by D. L. Jordan
The Erlonan Tales: The Genesis of Destiny
Dominique L. Jordan
Copyright © 2017 Dominique Langston Jordan
Cover by Daniela at http://www.selfpubbookcovers.com/Daniela All Rights Reserved
DEDICATION
I dedicate this book to anyone infatuated with the power of words.
CONTENTS
The Beginning of Destiny…………………………………………………………………. 1
A Little Boy Named Dean…………………………………………………………………...8 The First Day of School……………………………………………………………… 13
The Fateful Night…………………………………………………………………………...18 The World of Erlon…………………………………………………………………………27 The Marble Palace of Avesia……………………………………………………………….40 Seven Years Later…………………………………………………………………………..48 The Sign…………………………………………………………………………………….53 A Fate Almost Forgotten…………………………………………………………………...55 The Story of The Lost Ruler………………………………………………………………..61 The Great Guardian of the Ice Waters……………………………………………………...71 The Truth…………………………………………………………………………………...79 Coming Back……………………………………………………………………………….83 The Letter…………………………………………………………………………………..88 Adversity Through Training………………………………………………………………..94 The Queen’s Memories……………………………………………………………………104 Books, Scrolls, and Riddles……………………………………………………………….116 An Expected Surprise……………………………………………………………………..124 Taken Away Once More…………………………………………………………………..130 Becoming One Step Closer………………………………………………………………..141 The Battle of The Mountains……………………………………………………………...151 A Destiny Fulfilled………………………………………………………………………..164 A Vacation Ending, A Journey Beginning………………………………………………..175
THE BEGINNING OF DESTINY
The beautiful and plentiful land of Pulchra was covered in blankets of white snow. Its usual purple sky was now gray and the yellow clouds were now as white as the snow that covered the ground. Winter had come to Pulchra, and a problem stirred in the mountains of Lanen, Pulchra’s capital city on the coast.
Pulchra was one of the most powerful places in its world called Erlon. Under the reign of its ruler, Pharaoh Amenhotep, Pulchra maintained a rich and prosperous heritage. The problem was that a large, fat, and monstrous creature with repulsive boils, the Mediskar, lurked in these mountains, terrifying all those who traveled through them. Legends had passed from generation to generation about the Mediskar’s appearance and monstrous tendencies. The way it devoured anyone who opposed it and its performance in battle only fueled its legend as a creature of great terror.
Pharaoh Amenhotep grew more and more aware of the problem of the Mediskar, fearing that the creature would somehow enter his city and destroy his people. He could not let this situation carry on and therefore sent six of his strongest warriors to remove the beast from its place. They were considered the strongest for their immense bravery and unrivaled ability to withstand even the most dangerous battles.
The warriors chosen to defeat the Mediskar put on their leather armor, gathered their best bronze swords, held shields the size of tombstones, and took spears, helmets, and bows and arrows for the journey. They took a long and narrow path that led into the mountains, wondering if they would ever see their families and friends again or feel the warmth of the sun in spring.
As they entered a dark cave in the mountains, there wasn’t any sign of the Mediskar’s presence. The brisk, cold air that slashed against them was unbearable. The strong and intense stab of the cold seemed to pierce through their armor, onto their bare skin. Small chill bumps appeared all over the warriors because of the cold’s crude and biting intensity. The warriors then heard the horrific cries of the five wise men of Pulchra. These wise men bore gifts of prophecy. Since they lived in the mountains, in the Temple of Lanen, these men had become accustomed to its harsh conditions.
The warriors held their swords in the air, ready to strike while the adrenaline flowed through their veins. They ran into the cave, unafraid of the terror that awaited them. All five of the wise men who resided in the mountains hurriedly exited the cave and onto a path that was just on the outside. While in the cave, the gallant warriors of Pulchra stopped running, determined to keep their feet in one spot. It was dead silent, the air was still.
At that moment, the Mediskar revealed itself from the back of the icy cave. It’s massive, sluggish body was exposed in the fire of the open pit that the wise men had made for warmth.
Every inch of the creature’s green skin was covered in repulsive bumps. From the top of its head were thorns that ran down its back, leading to a short tail. A rancid smell came from the Mediskar, and quickly filled the cave.
The Pulchran warriors were instantly revolted by its appearance. The Mediskar then looked at the six warriors with glaring eyes that were a malevolent yellow with piercing black pupils. It bared its teeth as they dripped with saliva.
Tales had been uttered about the Mediskar’s appetite for humans. According to legend it had once wiped out an entire, defenseless village in a single night. Assuming that the beast was hungry for human flesh, one of the gallant warriors ran towards the Mediskar with his spear. The other five warriors then quickly followed. The Mediskar moved sideways to the left against the wall of the cave with a jolt as the warrior tried to stab it with his spear. It shifted and maneuvered its body around as if it were a creature half its size. Surprised by the creature’s agility, the warriors then ran towards the Mediskar. They slashed their swords at the creature’s tough hide. It retaliated with a swift swipe of its horned head, trying to take out the warriors.
Another, coming from behind, tried to stab the creature. The sword merely sank into the creature’s body and disappeared. The Mediskar turned around and grabbed the soldier with its elongated tongue, wrapping it around the warrior like a python squeezing its prey. The Mediskar then plunged its tongue back into its mouth.
“That wretched beast ate Gravere!” cried one of the warriors, clearly outraged.
“We are not here to destroy it! We must only capture it and send it back to its original place,” cried Toric, a broad shouldered man and the warriors’ leader, reminding his companions of their task. The other Pulchran warriors paid no attention to their comrade’s pleas and continued battling to defeat the Mediskar.
One of the warriors emitted a spark of flame from his right hand at the Mediskar. The flame landed on the Mediskar and it gave out deep, gurgling wails of pain. The spark grew into a blazing fire that spread throughout the top of its body. It quickly crawled out of the cave and into the snow before falling off the edge and dropping back into the swamp.
After the tiring ordeal, the Pulchran warriors then went to the edge of the path where the wise men stood. The five wise men and the remaining warriors looked among themselves, grateful for their people’s natural ability over fire.
“We would like to thank you.” said Kriano, a deep-voiced man who was the oldest,
and therefore head of the Pulchran wise men. The top of his head was bald and his long gray beard reached his knees as he spoke.
“Even though you have lost your dear friend in the fight against the Mediskar,” began Kriano again, “the terrible creature has been returned to its rightful place. We are truly grateful.”
At that moment, the wind began to blow more fiercely. Its once cool and frigid touch had now turned to searing warmth. Kriano began to act strangely toward the warriors. His face had become vacant of any sort of expression, and his eyes began to widen as if he was seeing the Mediskar return once again.
The warriors looked at the other wise men and saw that they too were acting in this strange manner. The piercing wind and equally biting snow began to blow on them all, causing the side of their faces to become damp and frozen. The warriors lifted the hoods from the inside of their armor to guard their heads from the cold, while Kriano and the other wise men were still as they were before.
As the wise men continued to stand in the wind and snow, they finally spoke in baritone
voices.
“A destined child there will come, from another world he will be from. The heir to the throne he will be,
from the sight of evil he will never be free.
When his interest is found,
Upon the back of the Phoenix he shall be Yailon bound.
When the need of his people will be dire,
he will come to their aid with wind, earth, water, and fire.
From the Rulers of Yailon he shall be taught, And from his duties he will falter not.
He will journey to distant lands, with the fate of a people in his hands.
He will meet with allies in different regions, and they will be a part of his many legions. The greatest evil he will face will be grave,
And to succeed against it he will have to be brave.
When his great rule will succumb, the end of Erlon shall finally come.”
The wise men immediately broke out of their trance, trembling as sweat began to trickle from their foreheads despite the harshness of the cold around them. Their hearts were pounding frantically. The wise men then slowly placed their eyes upon the warriors; all seemed very confused.
“This is clearly a message from the Great Spirit,” spoke Kriano. His eyes glared at the warriors. He grabbed Toric strongly by the arm. Kriano’s forehead was creased in desperation as he yelled at the leader of the warriors.
“Listen to me and listen very carefully!”
Toric looked back at him. He was not going to miss a word of what Kriano was about to say, as if his life hung on every word.
“Send word of this prophecy to Amenhotep immediately! Have him send it far and wide to every ruler in our world. It is something that will change all of Erlon forever. Do not forget a word of the prophecy when you deliver it to him. I would take him the message myself, but we wise men are sworn to never leave the mountains because of our holy duty of tending to the Temple of Lanen. Now, go!”
Kriano let go of him and Toric took off down the icy, muddy path of the mountains, running back to the city as if he was escaping a firestorm. The other four warriors followed as the wise men watched.
When they reached the palace of Amenhotep, the warriors who had been chosen to defeat the Mediskar ran past the two large snow covered statues of the king and through the front doors into the throne room.
The room was magnificent, filled with many plants, flowers, and tapestries. A massive fireplace was burning on one side of the room, dwarfing the enormity of the place. Pharaoh Amenhotep stood at a table near his throne looking over an old map.
“My king,” cried Toric before giving a slight bow. The other warriors came in behind him, trailing snow that melted almost immediately because of the heat in the room.
“The leader of the wise men has given me a valuable task.” Amenhotep looked at the warrior and ordered him to present his task.
He recited the prophecy as the wise men had done before. Toric then told Pharaoh Amenhotep of what he was supposed to do as soon as he had heard the message. Amenhotep looked down at the shining floor of the room and obeyed Kriano’s demand. He ordered Toric, “Place the prophecy in many places where all can see, deliver messages to every ruler in Erlon immediately.”
Within a matter of hours, the task had begun. Amenhotep had sent his finest messengers to deliver the pieces of papyrus to the rest of the rulers in Erlon. The world of Erlon would soon be aware of the fate that was to come. From that moment on, everyone would wonder if the destined child the wise men spoke of would ever come to prove the prophecy.
A BOY NAMED DEAN
The year was 1968 and Dean Richardson, a young African American boy of seven, and his family, lived in an apartment building in New York City. Dean lived in the apartment with his mother, Alana, and his father, Richard Richardson, his older brother, Timothy, and his grandfather, who everyone called Granddad. Dean’s brother, Timothy, was a boy of twelve who always knew how to follow the rules…that is until he was caught disobeying them.
One day Mr. Richardson took Timothy and Dean to a local hospital to visit their grandfather.
When they stepped into Granddad’s room in the hospital, he’d woken up from an afternoon nap. Mr. Richardson and his children quickly walked over to the old man they knew and loved so well.
“Sorry for waking you up, Dad.” Mr. Richardson apologized as they stepped into the
room.
“Don’t worry,” Granddad replied with a youthful smile. “I was only resting my eyes.”
This statement made Dean give out a high-pitched chuckle, making Granddad’s youthful smile even wider. Dean was very happy to see his grandfather laugh.
The three of them sat there in the room talking to Granddad about matters that involved the family and Granddad’s health.
“Granddad,” Dean said, looking admirably into his grandfather’s eyes. “Tell me a story about that place again. You know the one, that faraway place you’ve always told us about!”
“I think Granddad is a bit tired, Dean.” said Mr. Richardson. “I think you should really…”
“Nonsense!” said Granddad, interrupting his son. He looked at Dean before saying, “I’m
always ready to tell a story to my favorite grandchildren.”
Timothy looked at him with a suspicious grin and said, “Granddad, we’re your only grandchildren.”
“Well then, that’s an even better reason to tell a story isn’t it?” Granddad gave out a chuckle before giving into Dean’s wish. For years, Granddad told his children and grandchildren stories about a faraway place called Erlon that was filled with mystical animals and legendary heroes. Proclaiming that they had been passed down in the Richardson family for generations, each one of Granddad’s stories became even more intriguing with time. Mr. Richardson was glad that his father still enjoyed telling these stories to his young sons, amazed that his father’s memory had not waned since he himself first heard the stories about Erlon when he was young.
Timothy, since he was older than Dean, began to no longer believe his grandfather’s old stories. He thought he had outgrown them, saying that they were “only for babies.” He was still very young. Timothy was beginning to go the way of all children who abandon childhood fables. His sense of childhood bewilderment was now being replaced with the cynicism of adolescence.
But his younger brother, Dean, had always loved to hear Granddad’s stories. His eyes would swell with amazement every time his grandfather began to tell one of the stories about the mystical world of Erlon, and that amazement remained even after the story was finished.
Just when Granddad was in the middle of telling Dean and Timothy a story about a flying tiger that soared in the sky for days without rest, a red-headed nurse in a white uniform entered the room.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Richardson!” she said with a southern accent and a welcoming smile. Granddad sat up in his bed, straightening his posture as his broken ankle rested in i
ts cast.
“I’ve just come in to see how you were doing.” She looked at Dean, Timothy, and Mr.
Richardson and said, “This must be your wonderful family? Mr. Richardson has told me so much about y’all. My name is Sheila.” She looked at Dean and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you little guy.” She held out her hand for Dean to shake and he soon took it.
Dean, Timothy, and Mr. Richardson smiled, and they exited after the nurse told them that visiting hours were now over.
As soon as they left the nurse went to the door, shifting her gaze in the hospital corridors from left to right in the hopes that no one was nearby. She closed the door before finally sitting at the foot of Granddad’s bed.
“You have a lovely family,” she said with an admiring gaze. Her Southern accent was now completely gone.
Granddad looked down and said, “Yes, they truly are wonderful. I love them very much.” “The youngest one, is he…is he the one?” she asked apprehensively.
“Yes, Edrana, he is the one. I know they will soon come for him. A friend has told me that they’ve been in our neighborhood looking for him.”
“Then the prophecy of the ancient Pulchran wise men is finally coming true?” she asked. “Yes, it looks like it is. Since we are both descendants of the wise men, we knew this day
would eventually arrive. For generations my family has dreaded this day. Now that it has finally come, I must do all I can to protect Dean.” Granddad’s mouth frowned and his once gleaming eyes were dulled with the worry of a grandfather who cared deeply for the safety of his young grandchildren.
