The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  At least she was here, behind bars, without her magic. Lorrek knew if she ever got out, she would want revenge on him for rendering her powerless, but it had been done for a good cause.

  Shaking his head, Lorrek withdrew from Athorim and sought out one more magic signature—Mordora. He wasn’t sure where this would take him because he knew she wasn’t in Nirrorm, Serhon, Athorim, or Cuskelom. He doubted she was in Jechorm, but decided first to look in Talhon since that was the last place she had been seen.

  In the magic realm, he hovered above the land of Talhon. It was a land of dense forests and canyons. While Cuskelom possessed the World Orb, Athorim had pure magic, Nirrorm crafted legends of tales, arts, and magic, Jechorm had technology, and Serhon had thieves and assassins, Talhon claimed the quiet possession of neutrality. It didn’t seem like much compared to the others, but when war threatened the kingdoms, Talhon was always the lurking unknown. Would it join the fight? Or would it not? For the most part, it maintained its peace, but Lorrek wondered how that would change if a fight was brought into their own land. There was always this unspoken fear of Talhon among all the kingdoms, which never made any sense to Lorrek. The kingdom was quiet and medieval much like most of the others, but there was something beneath the surface, something that demanded the respect of all the kingdoms—including Jechorm.

  Maybe he could find Mordora and get her out of Talhon before anything sinister was unleashed. However, that first required that he find her.

  He searched the land for her, scouring for her magic signature. He had a unique connection to her magic because he had been the one who had unlocked it for her. He had taught her the initial use of magic, so he knew what he was looking for, but he was surprised to find it muted. It wasn’t easy to locate—not in the shadows of the forest, yet she had left a trail of people turned to stone—people who had gotten in her way.

  Lorrek narrowed his eyes when he saw this. “I must find a way to reverse that spell,” he determined. Since Roskelem had gained his magic, the spell of statues had been used too frequently. Lorrek had hoped stripping the king of his power would prevent further use of the spell. Yet from what he understood, Roskelem had the opportunity to briefly train Mordora, and the one thing he successfully taught her was his favorite spell of turning flesh into stone. It was an ancient, dark spell, and Lorrek would have to converse with Anelm or Caleth about how to reverse it.

  However, all his searches did not yield Mordora, which surprised him. The magic of the kelliph bracelet must have been masking her, but Lorrek had learned enough. He had a better idea where to find her.

  Withdrawing out of the magic realm, Lorrek returned to his body.

  Pain flared in his hand, and Lorrek hissed, pulling his arm close to himself. He had forgotten that Theran had broken his arm. He hissed through his teeth and inspected the injury. Vixen’s splint and sling held well.

  Taking in his surroundings, he realized Vixen had been relieved of her watch, and now Theran kept watch. Lorrek had no desire to speak with his brother, so he leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes to sleep. He knew it would not be long before the others woke and they had to get moving again.

  7

  Erita held Heldon’s hand as they walked down the corridor to their chambers. She refused to release his hand because she knew what would happen if she let go. He would insist there was so much left to do that he could not go to bed yet, but she had determined it was time for him to sleep.

  However, as they rounded the corner close to their chambers, Erita suddenly halted and tilted her head as if listening for something.

  Heldon frowned at her abrupt halt and looked at her. “Erita?” His voice caused her to snap her gaze to him, but he could tell she was still listening to something that he couldn’t hear. He narrowed his eyes, making his hand a fist, ready to defend them against any threat. “What is it? What is wrong?”

  “Your mother calls me. She wishes to speak with you.” With that, Erita guided Heldon quickly into their room, closed the door behind them, gestured to the air, and a shimmering image of Lady Lorentha appeared before them. Since neither Lorentha nor Heldon possessed magic, Erita had to maintain the magic link so Lorentha could communicate with her son.

  Heldon saw his mother, and he fought back a sudden onslaught of tears. Although only a few months had passed since the last time he saw her at his wedding, there was so much out of place here, and Heldon only wanted his family back together. He wanted his father to still be alive. He wanted his mother to still be present in the palace, if for no other reason than he missed her calming presence. He wished Theran was back from Jechorm and was rightful king of Cuskelom. He wished Lorrek would return home for good and help them all. But Heldon especially wished his twin brother, Honroth, was still alive.

  Merely seeing his mother reminded him how shattered his family was, and he drew in a deep, pained breath, but offered her a smile. “Mother, what an unexpected but pleasant surprise. Are you well?” Then he frowned, concerned, because he knew she was the regent of the neighboring kingdom. “Is Nirrorm well?”

  Lorentha nodded, offering her son a warm smile. “Aye, Nirrorm is quite well. King Moren learns quickly and possesses more discretion than I have seen in many kings. Nay, the purpose behind my visit is because Lorrek appeared to me a little while ago.”

  Heldon and Erita shared a surprised look then turned back to Lorentha. “Lorrek?” Heldon furrowed his brows. “He is back?”

  “Aye…and nay.” The apparition of Lorentha began to meander around the room before she sighed and turned back to her son. “He seeks Princess Mordora. He seeks to untangle the wrongs of the past. I fear he may be unsuccessful, but it matters not. He is set on his path. However, he mentioned something to me that sounded familiar.” She locked eyes with Heldon. “Have you heard of Rykeldan or the thymords?”

  Again, the king and queen of Cuskelom exchanged another look, and this time Heldon shifted on his feet and sighed, folding his arms as he looked back at his mother. “The thymords—aye. Why?”

  “Lorrek said they are somehow connected to Mordora. I know not what it means, but I believe our library there in Cuskelom contains knowledge about them. Lorrek may need that information. Could you research it for me?”

  “Or we could simply ask them,” Erita interjected, causing Lorentha to frown.

  “What do you mean?”

  Heldon sighed. “The thymords—they’re here. Well, two of them.” Seeing he needed to explain himself, he pressed his lips together and tried to figure out where to begin. “They claim to be the creators of the World Orbs and the handblades.” He locked eyes with his mother. “And they are here to take them back.”

  Lorentha widened her eyes. For as long as she could remember, Cuskelom had possessed the handblades and the World Orbs—though somewhere in legend was rumor that these gifts were given to them and not created by Cuskelom itself. Still though, what was Cuskelom without those?

  Regardless, what Heldon said didn’t make sense. “But why? Why now? Do they know of Rykeldan? Of Mordora?”

  At her questions, Heldon shook his head and began to pace around the room, raking his hand through his hair. “I know not, Mother. I have been trying to negotiate with them these last several days, but they are incredibly stubborn. I could bring this matter to their attention—see if they are aware of anything. Did Lorrek say where he was?”

  Lorentha reflected on her conversation with Lorrek but then shook her head. “No, I fear not.”

  Heldon lifted his hand to reassure her. “All is well. Erita can search him out if necessary. For now though, Mother, I fear I must retire for the night. It has been a long day, and I know not what tomorrow brings. I must rest.”

  Lorentha nodded. “Certainly. It was good to see you again, my son.”

  He smiled softly at her and whispered, “I miss you,” but she faded from sight before she could respond, and Heldon sighed, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

  Erita came to him and sat
beside him, draping her arm over his shoulders and pulling him close. At first she said nothing, but then she had to break the silence. “Is it wise for me to search out Lorrek? If these thymords are concerned with…whatever Rykeldan is, then perhaps we shouldn’t tell them exactly where to go.” When Heldon looked at her with confusion, she explained, “If Rykeldan is more important to them than the World Orbs or the handblades, they will leave us alone in search for it, and they will be gone longer if we don’t tell them where Lorrek is—should he be near the Rykeldan. This would give us more time.”

  Heldon nodded as he came to understand. “Playing a game, are you?”

  Erita shrugged a little with a small, cunning smile. “We do what we must to survive.”

  This was a lot to take in, but her words made sense, so he nodded. “Very well, but reach out to Lorrek. Inform him of the thymords, so he is not caught off guard when they finally cross his path.”

  Erita nodded. “Of course, but you rest. I will find your brother.”

  Heldon grunted, too tired for further conversation, but bent down, removing his boots, then sat up, removing his belt and over tunic before flopping down onto the bed.

  Erita chuckled and patted his leg before she rose to her feet and moved away from the bed, so she wouldn’t disturb him while she sank into the magic realm to find Lorrek.

  8

  Back in the cave, Jaegar observed Skelton as Radella knelt beside him, channeling her magic into the injured sorcerer to keep him stable, and he frowned. When Radella pulled back from Skelton, Jaegar spoke with his voice lowered. “He is slipping away more and more with each moment.” He gestured to Skelton, who slept on his back on the floor of the cave. “If we continue to feed him our magic, he will become dependent on others’ magic, and I don’t even want to imagine the consequences of that.” Then Jaegar fastened his gaze on Radella. “I heard that Vixen had been gravely wounded, but you were the one who found a way to save her. How?”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Radella’s lips. “You care about Vixen, don’t you?”

  Jaegar’s cheeks blushed, and he became flustered. “Why...would you...say that?”

  “Because when you first saw her, you were very thrilled to see her, and then you insisted to become the bodyguard of a very experienced assassin. It’s a bit ridiculous trying to protect an assassin, especially one as capable as Vixen.”

  Jaegar crossed his arms and glared at Radella. “Well, apparently there was no one to protect her against Prince Lorrek at the Battle of Cuskelom, and suddenly I am to believe that the bad blood between those two no longer exists? I am no fool. I saw an opportunity, so I seized it—”

  “Yet here you are with me rather than at Vixen’s side.” Radella motioned back to Skelton, their temporary charge.

  Balling his fists, Jaegar narrowed his eyes. “I had no choice in the matter.”

  Radella smirked at him. “Lorrek rarely leaves anyone with a choice.”

  “Regardless of all that, you never answered my question.” Jaegar tried to steer the conversation back to the original topic. “How did you save Vixen?”

  “Simple.” Radella folded her arms. “I had found the land of the ancient kelliphs.”

  “You found Kellirothen?” Jaegar widened his eyes. “Are the legends true? Does one gain a new life with the turn of the new year?”

  “Technically it’s not the turn of the new year, but rather a year since you arrived, but yes—you do gain an extra life.”

  “Do you have an extra life?”

  “No.” Radella shook her head. “I made sure I didn’t stay for a full year. I didn’t care to have that responsibility. Nevertheless, I left Vixen there for a year, and after that time, I returned as the healers there removed her from life support. She died, but an hour or so later, she regenerated—completely whole.”

  “Why not take Skelton there? If he can remain there for a year, surely the same could happen to him.” Jaegar gestured at the unconscious sorcerer in the cave.

  Radella nodded when she heard this, but then she sighed and shook her head. “I had considered that, yet at the moment, he is dependent on others’ magic to live. Since he’s a sorcerer, mere machines cannot live for him, and magic and machines do not combine well.”

  “Unless it is the Guardians of Jechorm,” Jaegar pointed out.

  However, this caused Radella to pause.

  She hadn’t considered that. It was true that Jechorm had found a way to channel magic to fuel their technology. It was the reason why Radella herself was no longer in a coma, but she still didn’t understand it. All she knew was Jechorm has discovered how to extract magic from one person and infuse it into another, but applying this to Skelton’s situation did not make sense, so Radella shook her head and looked at Jaegar. “Since Skelton already has magic, a Guardian suit from Jechorm will be of little use. His magic is poisoned—not so much his body, but we cannot strip him of his magic without his consent. For now, we must continue as we are and hope Lorrek brings Mordora to us so she can reverse this.” With that, Radella moved to return to Skelton, yet Jaegar spoke, stopping her.

  “And if they are unsuccessful?”

  Radella sighed and cast her gaze across the way to Skelton once more, then she looked back at Jaegar and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Jaegar watched her return to Skelton. Knowing things were bleak, he sighed and glanced outside the cave into the darkness of the forest. He hoped Lorrek knew what he was doing. He wished he could have accompanied the Mage of Cuskelom, but his help was needed here instead. Shaking his head, Jaegar returned to Skelton so he could take over for Radella. Between the two of them, neither would be drained, but he wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep this up.

  9

  Mordora paced through a castle in Talhon. The place had been inhabited when she first arrived, but the people created too much noise in her head. They wouldn’t be quiet, so she forced them.

  She walked past the statues of men, women, and children without thought. Her only irritation was that although the people were now silent, they couldn’t move out of her way. She’d already blasted a few that had been in her path when she didn’t feel like stepping around them, but none of this satisfied her.

  Coming to a balcony, she went to the railing and took in a deep breath as she gazed across the city and the land beyond the castle walls. This castle had been built into the side of a hill, so the land stretched out far and long before her, but all she could see was woods—the tops of trees. Talhon’s forests made it difficult for any army to maneuver quickly, which allowed this land to remain isolated from the wars of surroundings kingdoms. However, they had not expected a lone woman to walk through and bring them ruin.

  Mordora shook her head when she thought this, and she lifted her hand to touch her forehead. When she did so, she noticed the bracelet on her wrist, and she glared at it.

  Ever since she had put the bracelet on, nothing made sense. She was more easily angered. Anything could trigger it, and that alone irritated her.

  “What is wrong with me?” She spoke aloud, looking at her hands in disgust and frustration.

  Suddenly a tall, pale figure appeared behind Mordora. He possessed many of the same traits as those in Athorim, but he was much taller. His long hair was white rather than blond, and he possessed an agelessness about him and also an ancient aura in his eyes. He leaned down to speak softly in Mordora’s ear, “You thirsted for more power, and that is what I have given you.” Then he added, “Nothing is ever simple.”

  Mordora clenched the sides of her head as if to try and shut him out, but she couldn’t. Finally, she dropped her arms and shouted, “I want peace!”

  Rykeldan tsked his tongue and smiled at her as he circled her. “Peace is a mere concept of the mind. If you want it...” He tapped her on her forehead. “You must accept your reality, and then you will be at peace. Because if you fight, if you struggle, then you will know conflict, and conflict is the opposite of peace
.”

  “And you know exactly what that’s like, don’t you?” Mordora glared at him, and he chuckled, but the sound had a shade of sadness to it.

  He locked eyes with her and said matter-of-factly, “I do.” He gestured to the room as if indicating to any who opposed her before he turned back to her. “You heard my voice when I was in the bracelet.” He motioned to it on her wrist. “And not many hear that. It is unique because you wanted power and control, and that is what I have given you—”

  “You haven’t given me control!” Mordora shot open her palms at her sides, and her hands flared with magic briefly before the glow faded. She glared at her hands, then at Rykeldan. “See? This is not control! I can hurt anyone without meaning too. I could hurt my own brother, and that is why I can’t go home. I want to go home. I want all of this gone! I don’t want to be a part of this anymore...”

  “Hush now...” Rykeldan drew near to her, lifting his hand to cup her cheek gently as he pushed aside a strand of hair then locked his golden eyes with hers. He offered her an encouraging smile, but it lacked warmth. “There is always chaos before the storm. Not only do you possess your own power, but you channel mine as well. That is why you lack control, why your emotions are so near the surface, and why magic responds so quickly to your emotions. You must trust me. I will never let anything or anyone harm you...or me.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t trust you. The last powerful sorcerer I trusted refused to accompany my father, and my father never came home. He died out there, and that could have been prevented if Lorrek had gone with him!”

  Rykeldan plucked the name ‘Lorrek’ out of the conversation and channeled it through magic, finding magic quite familiar with the name. As he did this, he came to learn much about the sorcerer prince of Cuskelom, and he looked at Mordora for a moment before stepping back. “Do you know the Prince Lorrek of Cuskelom who is responsible for your father’s death?”