Contents
Title
Copyright
Acknowledgement
CHAPTER ONE Chapter 1
CHAPTER TWO Chapter 2
CHAPTER THREE Chapter 3
CHAPTER FOUR Chapter 4
CHAPTER FIVE Chapter 5
CHAPTER SIX Chapter 6
CHAPTER SEVEN Chapter 7
CHAPTER EIGHT Chapter 8
CHAPTER NINE Chapter 9
CHAPTER TEN Chapter 10
CHAPTER ELEVEN Chapter 11
CHAPTER TWELVE Chapter 12
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Chapter 13
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Chapter 14
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Chapter 15
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Chapter 16
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Chapter 17
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Chapter 18
CHAPTER NINETEEN Chapter 19
CHAPTER TWENTY Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Chapter 25
Homecoming
By James Thornton
© 2018 James Thornton. All rights reserved.
Cover Art Rendered By Natascha Nielsen
Images created by Www.slon.pics - Freepik.com
ISBN 978-1-9831391-6-1 (Paperback)
To my friends and family for their support.
Special thanks to Vivien and Natascha for their input and creativity.
Final thank you to my mother, Joyce. For your unwavering support, care, and genuine curiosity.
CHAPTER ONE
Chapter 1
The taste of blood filled Forec’s mouth, it dripped from his nose and splattered on the paper below. Ink and blood mixed to make a brownish stain. His skin stung as if needles prodded every pore. The sensation only stopped when a chill ran down his spine. The low hum of life that usually kept him company within his chamber in the keep of Krux Aev’then had died. He was alone in the silence.
He pushed his chair back from the desk he sat at and stepped around stacks of loose papers and books scattered across his floor. The only books that were in place on his shelves were those in the ancient tongues that had yet to be deciphered. The only papers that were still stacked were those that he hadn’t yet had the chance to put ink too. Each time he left the comfort of his chamber, he cursed his slobbishness. And yet, each time he returned, he left the mess. It was much easier to stay in his chamber, behind the mess.
When he finally did manage to escape from the traps he had accidentally laid on the floor, he opened the door to the hall. Dozens of his fellow mages stood in the hallway. They all asked the same questions he had wondered to himself. It appeared no one had any answers. They huddled together and talked out the possibilities. They theorized about the many horrific things that could have occurred with a strange glee. They were excited over the prospects of war between the Five Kingdoms or some other tragedy.
Forec knew better than to include himself in those fruitless conversations. He never felt joy from calamitous events that so many of his counterparts did, nor did he revel in the failures of the average man. He pitied the common people. Life as a mage was superior in every conceivable way. They were not limited to the constraints of a single talent. Nor were they burdened by their tragically short lives. And to be one of the non-talents, well, he could hardly imagine the sense of powerlessness they must feel.
There was little reason for him to stay among those mages. Their conversations would only grow more loathsome. Yet he couldn’t just return to his chamber either. He wandered the maze-like corridors of the keep. He climbed the many staircases and absently observed the flawless masonry. It had occurred to him before that the workmanship was too perfect to have been made by hand. But the mages had not created Krux Aev’then, that sort of work was below them. They had not created it, but they claimed it as if they had.
His climb continued until he reached the snow-covered roof. Krux Aev’then towered over even the nearby mountain peaks the keep rested upon. Harsh winds whipped through the air and buffeted him with cold air and snow. He closed his eyes and raised his hands to his waist, palms to the sky. Around him, he created an orb of wind that pushed back in all directions. It kept both the snow and cold air off of him. Nothing more than a parlor trick, but one that he had found plenty of use for on his walks atop Krux Aev’then.
A bluish glow came and faded from the corner of his eye, enough to catch his attention. A figure stepped from it and turned its head to the sky. It turned its head toward Forec and revealed a grimace. But there was excitement in her eyes.
“High Mage,” Forec said, “My apologies for interrupting you.”
“Think nothing of it, Forec,” High Mage Insmith Crissing said. She stared at with cold gray eyes. “What brings you out into this abysmal weather?”
“The speculation from the others was a bore. They imagined war had come or that earth had split apart and other nonsense,” he said. “I thought atop the keep would be the best place to find some quiet. A place to think without distraction.”
“And what is it that you wish to think on, Council Mage?” she asked. “It seems there is something that troubles you.”
“The same as what disturbed the others, I would imagine,” he said. “What I assume brought you here as well.”
“Yes,” she said, “Something has happened, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, High Mage,” he said, “Powerful enough that all of us have felt it. Do you have any idea about what it was?”
“Oh I have my musings,” She smiled. It seemed sinister to Forec. “But I will leave the speculation to those under me. I am much more interested in your thoughts.”
“My own opinion?” he asked. “It felt as if the world itself shuttered. Though it had witnessed something entirely unnatural.”
“A fascinating assumption,” she said. The sinister smile was still on her lips. “Though by the sound of it, you think the world is somehow alive.”
“No, of course not,” He shook his head. “Just poor wording, High Mage. What I mean to say is that it was something powerful enough to get all of our attention. So strange that none of us could identify it. It was not the eruption of a volcano, nor the beating drums of war, yet it felt almost identical to both.”
“I see,” she said, cold gray eyes still fixed on him. “But you do not guess as to what that event was?”
“No, High Mage,” he said, “I do not.”
“Very well,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Gather the Council, Forec, and be in my chamber. You have two hours.”
Freedic stared up at a sky that glowed an unnatural purple. It was bizarre. The sky wasn’t supposed to be purple, he knew that much, but that wasn’t the only thing strange about his situation. It took him a few moments before he finally concluded what exactly was bothered him. He rolled off his back and climbed back to his feet and rubbed a pained spot on his head. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be laid down on the wall. He was supposed to be annoy Norvance.
Norvance stood behind a parapet and looked into the forest of the Warring Kingdoms. It didn’t look like Norvance had laid down at all, though that was typical for him. The man had too much work ethic. Freedic received nothing but a glance as he walked to the Captain’s side. It was more than Norvance usually showed in acknowledgment, especially when he was on duty. Freedic looked back to the sky. It continued to glow the eery purple. He followed the strange glow to where it was most intense, far off in the woods. The forest itself seemed illuminated by the same color as if a purple sun was somewhere within the trees.
“What’s happening?” Freedic asked. “Are the mages doing something in the Warring Kingdoms?”
“No,” Norvance said. “This is too showy for even a mage. Wrong color as well.”
“Then what is it?” Freedic asked.
“I know about as much as you do,” Norvance said. “About this, at least.”
“Why the hell was I lying down?” Freedic asked. “And why is the back of my head so damn sore?”
“Something knocked half the men on the wall down. Same time that the glow started,” Norvance said. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
“Oh, that makes sense I guess,” Freedic said. “I thought I had taken a nap on the job.”
“This isn’t your job, Freedic,” Norvance said. “You’re not paid.”
“I remembered that bit,” Freedic said and patted at his empty pockets.
“Do you see that?” Norvance asked. “Above the trees?”
“It looks like that’s the thing making the sky glow,” Freedic said. “Looks sort of like a mage’s rift.”
“Have you ever seen a rift that size?” Norvance asked. “That bright?”
“I guess not,” Freedic said.
“Where the hell is our chatter?” Norvance shouted.
A young man, barely old enough to be in the army ran to him and saluted.
“Sir, chatter here.” the boy said.
“Message for King’s Hand Ters Versing,” Norvance said. “There is reason to believe a rift has opened within the Warring Kingdoms. It’s larger than any of the ones I’ve seen made by a mage. We’re able to be seen over the tops of the trees. In addition, it’s discolored, purple instead of blue.”
“Yes sir,” the chatter said. “Any more, sir?”
“I’m requesting additional forces be readied in Quisen,” he said. “We may require reinforcements at the wall.”
Freedic rubbed his head’s sore spot and felt warm and wet. A bit of blood was on his fingers. He looked up and down the wall and watched many of the men do the same as him. They rubbed at their bruises and cuts and tried to stretch out their aches. Many others seemed the same as Norvance, as if they hadn’t been hit at all. What had happened that had only managed to knock out some of them?
Norvance walked to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Feeling okay?”
“Norvance, how long was I out for?”
“A little under an hour,” he said. “You hit your head damned hard, Freedic. Whatever that blast was was powerful.”
“There was a blast?” Freedic asked. “I know you said something pushed us but…”
“When the rift opened,” Norvance said, “you were between the parapets, swept right off your feet. Slammed your head against the edge there.” He pointed to the corner of parapet behind them.
“That explains that,” Freedic said. “What happened to you?”
“Knocked down,” Norvance said. “Just a few bumps. Didn’t even reach the back edge.”
The smell of smoke caught Freedic’s attention. In the distance, not far from the rift, gray pillows of it billowed into the air. The purple glow stained it as it raised over the treetops, and the wind pushed it towards them. Norvance squeezed his shoulder.
“I don’t know what this is either,” Norvance said. “But we’re in it together, at least.”
The words were meant to comfort Freedic, but they sent shivers down his spine. There was no telling what happened, but if it made Norvance that nervous, it wasn’t anything good.
“Hide yourself, Vyra. Now!” Vyra’s mother whispered. “Get away from here. Find someone who will help you. The other talents. Get to their village.”
“Mom,” Vyra argued in a whisper, “what’s going on? What about you?”
“Someone is attacking, Vyra,” her mother whispered. Her head spun to the door as the sound of metal clanked from somewhere outside. “There is no time for this. Hide.” She pushed Vyra behind her.
The sound of armor came closer—just outside the door—there was no more time for her to argue. She called up her veil and pressed herself into the corner of the room-sized house she shared with her mother. Massive men in armor—each stood over seven feet— ducked through the doorway and stood over her mother. They dwarfed her by at least two feet. Her mother screamed and swung her arms desperately. All it served to do was bloody her knuckles. An armored figure wrapped its arm around her waist and lifted her, then carried her out. He hadn’t spoken a word through the entire ordeal.
As the one who carried her mother out left, another armored giant ducked into the small house with a torch in hand. The helmet swiveled, and it said something Vyra couldn’t quite make out. Those who remained in the house left, and the final one threw the torch onto the bed she stood next to. She stepped away from the fire and followed carefully behind the armored figure out the door.
Dozens of them stood together surrounded the villagers and harassed them. They shoved and prodded them. The last of the villagers were dragged and carried out of their homes which began to burn moments later. As the last few of the villagers were collected, the things spoke in a language she didn’t know. It wasn’t all that strange for her to hear a language she didn’t recognize in the Warring Kingdoms. She lived in one of the last villages that still used the mage’s language, although she knew the Five Kingdoms still did.
As soon as the last of the giants joined the group, they began to walk away from the village and into the woods. She followed from a distance. It wasn’t worth it to get to close and herself if she stepped on something too loud or if she left a footprint somewhere they would notice.
They slogged through the woodlands and occasionally stopped to look around. Then they would once again restart with a change to their direction. It was clear they were foreign, but Vyra still couldn’t tell where they were from. She had never seen armor like that they wore, but she had barely seen armor before. She had rarely been far from her village, and then she had never been out of the Warring Kingdoms. As far as she could tell, one of the Five Kingdoms could have marched into the Warring Kingdoms.
When they finally reached their destination, the villagers were dragged off to the near corner. The armored figures gathered with more of their own. Many unarmored people walked around the clearing. It was the only clue of what they looked like under the armor.
They looked familiar, yet with differences to any person, she had ever met. They were tall, seven feet or more as far as she could tell. Pale and muscular, with sharp, angular facial features, but only because their faces looked near gaunt. They walked with a sense of importance, though most seemed to be just average workers. She assumed so at least, they were dressed in plain clothes that looked almost the same as hers. Their hair was a mix between black and brown,
She watched as an armored figure took its helmet off. Beneath the helmet was the same sharp features, though his face came with a patchwork of scars. His black hair was shaved close to his head, barely more than fuzz grew off his skull. He approached the villagers, each step deliberate. He spoke to them in the foreign tongue she couldn’t recognize. No villagers responded. He frowned, then lowered himself to the same level as the villagers. He spoke again, but no one answered.
In a flash of black metal, he drew a sword from his waist and sliced across the head of the villager. The villager never had time to react. The top of his head fell apart from the rest. Before the body had even fallen, the armored man had turned away and walked back toward the camp. The villagers were left to imagine their fates. Vyra could barely stand to stay, nor could she drag herself away. If they did the same to her mother, she decided she would run.
CHAPTER TWO
Chapter 2
Freedic paced up and down the wall as Norvance laid with his back against a parapet. There was little he could to calm himself. He couldn’t sleep as Norvance was. It shocked Freedic that he could manage to sleep through even the strangest of situations. But it wasn't a surprise, either. When Freedic had met
him in the swampy forests to the south, Norvance was already a prodigious sleeper. He could sleep through any possible situation. Little had changed since then. Freedic, on the other hand, had gone through the training of both a talent and a ranger. Paranoia was instilled in him from both. The smallest disturbance could keep him up for days. Never mind something as extreme as what he had seen.
Freedic must have passed by Norvance a hundred times before he so much as opened an eye. As soon as he looked up and met Freedic’s eyes, he let out a sigh and closed the eye again. Freedic knew what he meant, but didn’t much care to sit still like Norvance wanted him to. He continued to pace back and forth. The nerves wouldn’t let him do anything else. Eventually, Norvance would break. Freedic knew as much. It would just be a bit longer.
“Freedic, whatever could be wrong?” Norvance asked, eyes still closed.
“I’m glad you asked,” Freedic said, a grin grew on his face. “I’m quite concerned about what’s happening in the forest. Have you heard back from the King’s Hand? Is Sepherance mobilizing?”
“Has the Chatter come back to see me yet?” Norvance asked.
“No,”
“Then how would I know?” Norvance asked again.
“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Freedic said and kicked the wall.
“Then this whole conversation?”
“Absolutely pointless,” Freedic said and grinned wide. “So you haven’t heard anything? Rumors from the men maybe?”
“Have you seen any of them talking to me?”
“Well, yes,” Freedic said. “You talk to them constantly.
“That’s a fair point,” Norvance said. “But no, I’ve heard nothing.”
“This is awful,” he said. “If the world is ending I’d at least like to know about it.”
“Then go find out,” Norvance said. “There’s nothing stopping you from just jumping off the wall, you know.”
“It’s a bit of a drop, you know,” Freedic said as he looked over the edge. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Homecoming (Homecoming Chonicles Book 1) Page 1
