Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing)

by Shannon M Yarnold

  Shade of Destiny

  Shade of Destiny:

  Book One of the Foreseeing

  Shade of Fire:

  Book Two of the Foreseeing

  Shade of Treason:

  Book Three of the Foreseeing

  © Shannon Murray Yarnold, 2010

  The right of Shannon Murray Yarnold to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this works may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

  taping and recording, without prior written

  permission from the copyright owner.

  Pronunciation and definition

  I include this mainly for my peace of mind, and to avoid confusion as to how to say the characters names and titles and their meanings. I have only included names that I feel people may pronounce differently to how I intended them to be said.

  Mage: May-ge.

  Magus: May-g-eye

  Wynn: Winn

  Arabella: Ara-bella

  Braelyn: Brey-lin

  Laken: Lake-en

  Ricedon: Rice-don

  Byron: Bye-ron

  Aerona: Air-ona

  Medea: Med-e-a

  Mage: Male variant of a human with the gift.

  Magus: Female variant of a human with the gift.

  Sorceress: Female title held only by those who have deviated from the true nature of magic, often by practicing black magic.

  Charmer: One of the ability to will male or female into a lull of security where they then attack and drink the blood to enhance their powers. Prefer those with the gift but will drink anything to sate their need.

  The Fallen: Aerona’s army of dead soldiers, their souls ripped from them, their bodies animated by black magic, they feel no pain and cannot die.

  Synopsis

  “There is an ancient prophecy, known by all who practise magic; it reached the four corners of our lands and was told to all so they too could pass it on. It spoke of a woman with black hair and emerald eyes who with her magic will free this land.”

  “So what you’re trying to tell us,” Rueben jested, his eyebrows rose, “is that this girl, this maid, is the key to defeating the army and freeing us all?”

  War is coming, one that threatens the lives of every inhabitant of the Nations. Most have forgotten the prophecy and live broken and without hope. Wynn is the same, a maid and prisoner in the harsh town of Woodstone; she has lived a hard and fearful life under Lord Oprend's rule. She is subjected daily to his cruel ways and it is only when he seduces her that she snaps and in defending herself kills him. She runs away, a wanted criminal, but her problems are just beginning. On the run she meets a band of unusual travelers, one a Gypsy who tells of an ancient prophecy. Following the Foreseeing leads Wynn to make difficult choices and sets her on a path she does not know if she can walk. Will she shoulder the Foreseeing and save the lands or will her past stop her from becoming who she was born to be?

  I

  This tale of old, mark it well,

  It speaks of the shadows,

  Where evil creatures dwell.

  Of a girl lost in time,

  A future untold,

  A vision we see, this tale unfolds.

  She walks in our dreams,

  And glows like fire,

  This girl of mystery.

  Alone and yet loved,

  Afraid and yet bold,

  Her name we sing; the Foreseen,

  Beware the girl,

  Beware her gift.

  Only those pure in heart,

  Can ever hope to win.

  Snow white of skin.

  Eyes like emeralds,

  Hair as black as night.

  Oh young listener,

  Do not dispute the fate,

  Of the girl with skin snow white,

  and hair as black as night.

  Prologue

  The lanterns swung gently in the wind, casting an amber glow on the cobbles. Laughter resounded through the streets and the sound of violins echoed into the night air. The cottages stood still against the music and birds perched on the thatched roofs as though watching the celebration. Crooked shutters were closed against the chill of the night, giving the cottages a sleepy expression. This was the town of Woodstone, and all had gathered in the square for the annual carnival to celebrate the New Year. As happened every year a band had been positioned in front of the tavern and was playing passionately, the music floating into the crisp night air. The tiny lanterns, which had been attached hastily to the straw roofs of the cottages, had attracted fireflies which darted around the square, like the very stars had fallen from the sky.

  Men, women and children of all ages danced in time to the music and the air was filled with happiness. From the open door of the tavern someone would walk in and then out, carrying mugs of ale, which they passed around their friends. The hours passed easily and time flowed as quickly as the ale but soon enough the violins screeched to a halt and the drums lulled, signalling for the crowd to become silent. Lord and Lady Oprend’s black carriage slowly came into view, from the shadows of the forest opposite the square, and into the glow of the lanterns. The horses that led it snorted in the cold night air and plumes of air rose around them. Behind the carriage Woodstone’s army of men marched in unison, hands on their swords and murder in their eyes. A murmur of unease spread through the nine hundred strong crowd, they noted that the army had never appeared at the New Year celebrations before; their presence this night brought shivers of mistrust. A sullen man with thinning black hair stepped out of the carriage, followed by a woman with a thin face and long curly blonde hair. They stared down at the crowd with disdain and the crowd stared back at their leaders.

  “Thank you Woodstone for attending the New Year celebrations,” the Lord announced monotonously, “it is one of special importance to my wife and I because of the birth of our baby daughter.” His face remained cold and expressionless despite the talk of his new daughter, “However, instead of the usual celebrations, there is a change of plan; I have just received news by hawk from King Dianis that Cairon has been attacked.” The crowd began murmuring but stopped when the army behind the Lord began unsheathing their weapons.

  “The General is certain that in the time it took the message to reach us Cairon, and therefore, by extension, Terra would have fallen and that the invading army would have plenty have time to continue through Inlo, to obtain hostages. I am viewing this act as a direct attack on our honour, for a foreign army to even try the might of the land is beyond forgiveness. It means we will need to fight to stop these monsters.” Lord Oprend looked around the tiny village, his face cold and hard as stone, “Every man must report to Oprend manor for further instructions and recruitment conditions... That is all.”

  The Lord turned his back on the crowd and stepped back into the carriage, flanked by his wife. The crowd broke out into frantic whispers; children clung to their mothers and wives to their husbands. Oblivious to the distress of his people Lord Oprend signalled for the carriage to move and it turned around and left, a black monster that had almost certainly sentenced every man in Woodstone to death. The army followed behind it silently, the sound of their footsteps like a frantic heartbeat.

  When the carriage and soldiers had disappeared from view, the band began packing away their instruments sombrely. The crowd now stood motionless, unsure how to feel. The happy, carefree atmosphere had been replaced by a blanket of fear and uncertainty, the beauty of the carnival was now misplaced. Utterances of love f
rom husbands to wives, fathers to children echoed around the square as the crowd began to disperse.

  As the confusion died away the tavern owner walked back into his tavern briskly and blew out the torches that lined the walls so that only candle light remained. He then began packing away the mugs, absentmindedly wiping the finger smudges from the surface as he did so. A woman followed him inside and walked over to the bar; she carried a baby, a few weeks old; it slept against her breast, a shock of black hair covering its head, to match hers. Around the baby’s neck a thin golden chain lay against the folds of her dress, a tiny star pendant dangling from it, glinting in the meagre light. The tavern was dark save the candles by the windows which flickered in the breeze.

  The woman rocked the baby rhythmically, unaware of the movement, “William, what are we going to do?” She asked after a long moment of silence, her voice was hoarse, “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

  “Nothing. We follow Lord Oprend’s orders, or face the punishment.”

  “What about Wynn?” She hugged the baby tighter to her breast instinctively, “Or me? What about us, when you leave who will we have? You’re not the man you once were; you would be much more use here, making weapons, or tending the fields.”

  William stopped packing away the mugs and stared at the woman. She was possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, it was unquestionable really, long black hair curled down to her waist, framing a heart shaped face which was as pale as freshly fallen snow. Yet it was her eyes that captivated him and any man who had the fortune to look upon her face. They shimmered in the sparse light, the most stunning and vibrant shade of green, he had never seen another set like it, more like liquid emeralds than mere eyes. They were wide now as she watched him and her full lips were pinched together stubbornly.

  He smiled weakly at her expression, “Elina, I do what is best for this town. Wynn will never know her father and I would have done my best to fill that role and support you, but you need to understand that I may be of service to Lord Oprend. You need to learn everyone has a place. I am a man and I therefore must fight.”

  Elina stared at him, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears, behind her, through the open door, William could see the crowds filing in the direction of Oprend Manor. There was a blanket of fear over the town, the very air tasted of it.

  “You have been my closest, oldest, and dearest friend William and when Andor died last year I wasn’t sure that I could survive. You and Wynn are all I have now, and I do not want to lose you because Lord Oprend cannot use his fancy army to defend this town! He is a heartless, cruel man and one day he will get what is coming to him.”

  William dropped the mug he had been cleaning in shock and grabbed her arm, ignoring the sound of glass shattering as it hit the ground, “You mustn’t say such things; such things will earn you twenty lashes from the General.” He let go of her arm quickly and began to pick up the pieces of the glass, sighing like a man whose will had been broken years ago.

  “The General would not harm me,” Elina said stubbornly, “Lord Oprend has many other men to fight for Woodstone; he has an army, they are there to protect us.” The tavern had become cold and silent, the merry laughter that had once resounded through the windows had gone, and William knew in his heart he would never hear it again.

  “You know better than I that those men are not there for our benefit! They have increased the taxes, forced every man, able or not, to tend the fields, forge in the blacksmiths...”

  “Do you not think it strange that over the past year they have been increasing supplies, making extra weapons, forcing more men to join?” Elina snapped, interrupting him.

  William sighed, “Who are we to say what these men are thinking, evil minds are at work here and if my fighting will help protect you and Wynn then it is what I will do.”

  Elina placed her hand over William’s and the skin she had touched tingled pleasantly. Placing his other hand over Elina’s he stared at her, taking in her expression, remembering it. She was like a daughter to him, the daughter he might have had if she had not died... he swallowed past the memory and looked away from Elina’s brilliant eyes. He could find nothing to say which would comfort her, and make her understand why it was his duty to protect and fight for those he loved.

  His silence seemed to upset Elina more, for she gritted her teeth, “Fine, go,” she snapped, snatching her hand away from William’s. Tears fell from her eyes as she turned on her heel and walked out of the tavern, the baby bouncing in her arms. William shook his head sadly, he had known Elina for ten summers and she had always been a fiery woman, with the most stubborn streak that not even Lady Fate would contend her. He closed his eyes and prayed for Elina’s safety before continuing to store the glasses away. With the final mug William held it up to the light and stared at his reflection. His face was distorted in the shape of the glass but he could make out a mop of grey hair which fell over his eyes, old, laughing eyes which now looked sombre. Elina was right, he was not the man he once was. He sighed and walked out of the tavern, locking the door behind him. The square was empty; the women and children heading back to their cottages, hearts heavy. In the distance the outline of men walking down the hill, through the woods towards Oprend Manor, was visible. William took a deep breath for courage and followed the crowd.

  The cold night air whipped the men’s faces. They walked silently, mulling over what Lord Oprend had said. Terra was a strong country and Cairon a formidable capital; it would have taken thousands of men to break its barriers. Woodstone only inhabited nine hundred people, the majority women and children; it would need far more men to stand a chance of defending Inlo’s border.

  “I bet Lord Oprend isn’t offering himself on a platter like us,” a young man shouted out. There was a murmur of agreement between the ranks. William smiled, there weren’t many of them but the few they had were full of spirit. These men worked the fields, made the weapons which Lord Oprend’s army practised with and built cottages; these were men who would fight for their families.

  “Lord Oprend didn’t say who had attacked Cairon,” another man said, “only that they was foreign and anyone that ain’t from here is foreign, ain’t they? It can’t be human, the King would have known if a rebellion had been planned, even if it weren’t from inside his kingdom. And Terra has thousands of men, with the most advanced weapons and defence barriers ever known, no army could have broken through that... no human army.” The men bristled as they walked, fear slowly setting in as the man’s words rung in their ears.

  “Maybe there ain’t no men at all, maybe it’s magic, or ghosts, or monsters,” a young boy whispered, no older than fifteen, close to William, “and I ain’t fighting no creature that can do magic, they can kill you with their eyes. Got skills they have.”

  William mulled everything over. He was a rational man, if he could not see it, it could not hurt him. He knew that Terra prided itself on being the most defended country in the land, having barriers and watchmen on its borders day and night. He knew however the lands were not all peaceful, and many of its leaders corrupted by power... and yet it would have been impossible for any other lands to have crossed Terra’s borders. The King would have found out about a coup in his own country and the other lands did not have enough strength to attack Terra with the force that would have been necessary.

  William had never left Woodstone, but knew Terra lay a considerable distance away to the west. The fighting surely did not concern them, but still the people of Woodstone had been called to defend Inlo’s borders. He thought of all the criminals, young men who would have been a valuable asset, who had been taken away for petty crimes to The Rune, across the Cold Sea. William thought of the stories his father had told him of The Rune, it had sounded so much like hell that for a minute he considered that the ghosts of the criminals had come to Terra for revenge.

  The night air had become foreboding. The trees which surrounded the beaten path seemed to be closing in on the men, bra
nches writhing, bark black and weather-beaten. Owls stood motionless, watching them with their small black eyes. The cold chilled them through their soft leather jerkins and thin breeches, as though death was stroking their very bones. Through the arch of the trees Oprend Manor loomed, a large impressive building made completely of black marble. It seemed like a fortress and to the inhabitants it symbolised punishment and pain. The villagers said that it was black to match Lord Oprend’s heart.

  William kept his head down and walked, trying not to think about what the young boy had said. Lost in thought he was startled when suddenly there was a blood curdling scream ahead of them. The moonlight and canopy gave little light and the men at the front of the troop ran forward to see who had screamed. Pushing through the throng William saw a young woman in a black cloak lying motionless on the ground. The men stared at her, unsure whether to help, the talk of magic and ghosts had spooked them, and on a full moon... things weren’t right. William slowly knelt down and shook the woman’s shoulder, the cloak was a thick wool and felt very expensive; she murmured and slowly came round, standing up with the help of William’s outreached hand.

  “Thank you kind sir,” the woman gushed, her head down and hood up. William murmured in acceptance and stepped back, waiting for the woman to reveal herself. She slowly lifted her head and her hood fell back. A few of the men gasped at her beauty, she had hair the colour of flames, with ivory skin and huge grey eyes which stared at them innocently. The wood suddenly became silent, time stood still in fear of the woman before them.