The Order of the Trident: Speculum (Eldarlands Book 2)

by Samuel Rikard

  Demetrix limped his way down the line of soldiers looking upon their seemingly young faces. In truth his didn't appear much different, but he was beginning to feel his years. Stopping in front of a young girl, narrowly old enough to apply to the border wardens, he scanned her from head to toe, studying the blue glow radiating from her. “What's your name, recruit.”

  “Rayel Santail, sir!” The young scout stood amidst the row of eager warriors, each one ready to prove their worth. She wore a brown leather skirt and matching armor. Twin short swords hung from her sides and fiery red hair ran down her back.

  “Santail, huh? What brings you to Marbayne, Rayel?” Demetrix waited for her response, as he had the previous soldiers. This one was different. She claimed name. If she truly was who she claimed to be, there would certainly be a place for her. But he had to be sure.

  “I aim to better myself in the ways of battle in hopes of ascending the ranks so that I might fight by my uncle’s side.”

  “What’s your uncle’s name, recruit?” She looked up at the crippled archer, unsure if she should answer correctly. “Ravion, sir.” The assurance in her voice carried through the trees.

  “Very good, Rayel.” Turning, he stopped in front of the next recruit. Staring him in the eyes, he began again. “What’s your name, recruit?”

  “Perrin, sir.”

  “What’s your business here, Perrin?”

  “I hear this is the place to train in the ways of magic since the tower left, sir.”

  “You’ve come to the right place. Do you think you've got what it takes to be among the elite magi we have to offer?”

  “I do, sir!”

  “Very good, Perrin. We'll make a battlemage of you yet.” Demetrix went down the line, learning all the new recruit's names and faces. It helped know the men he led. Their deaths didn’t sting as bad when he could put a face with the list. Finishing his introductions he opened a wooden chest and pulled out a handful of black sigils. Each one had a white trident carved in the center. Tossing one to each of the recruits, he closed the chest and paced in front of them. “These mark you as an initiate in the Order of the Trident. Have it with you at all times. With improvement you’ll receive a new badge and benefits. Let it be a beacon for you in times of need. Your brothers and sisters will always be there for you, just as you’ll always be there for them. Wear it with pride. You’re dismissed.”

  The group broke up, disappearing to their various duties.

  “Rayel, might I have a minute?” He hobbled to the young warrior. “What do you know of Ravion?”

  “Sadly, not much. I met him briefly before he had to go on some important mission. I was in Krondar not long ago and they hadn’t heard from him. Has he returned?”

  “Sadly, no. And he’s not expected to. Let me ask you this. I’ve known Ravion for a while now. He never mentioned anything about siblings. How do you tie in?”

  “My mother told me about him before she died. She said she thought he was dead. They got separated when they were little. Reputation of the Dreuslayers traveled to my homeland in West Korenthia. My mother suspected it was Ravion, but she couldn’t be sure. After she died, I tried to find my father and sister. A merchant told me he might have taken position at the tower, but it was gone before I arrived. Then I learned this was the birthplace of the Dreuslayers and I had to find out for myself. May I ask you a question?” She continued, refusing to wait for a response. “How do you tie in? I know you’re dalari. I can see your glow. Aside from you, and Ravion, I haven’t seen any others.”

  “It’s a long story full of many complications. Short form, my name is Demetrix Santail. Son to Marquel Santail and brother to Ravion and Alexzandra. This would make me your uncle as well. Walk with me and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  ***

  Demetrix stared out the window overlooking the bailey and the city beyond. He watched the new recruits training against the dummies, recalling a simpler time. Lost in thought he didn’t hear the door open.

  “You spend an awful lot of time lookin’ out that window.”

  Hearing Gareth's voice he turned, finding the man sitting against the edge of the table. “It helps me think. I look down at the men and women striving to be better than they were the day before. I see hope. Hope for the future. Hope that we’ve made a difference. I see their faces, free of mar and regret from years of battle weighing heavily on the soul.”

  “I didn’t come here to listen to you unburden yourself. I came to give you a lead on your raiders.” Gareth pulled a dagger from his hip and began scraping the dirt from beneath his fingernails.

  Demetrix chuckled at the warrior’s abruptness. “I enjoy these little chats. Won’t you take a seat and tell me all about it?” Forcing sarcasm into his words he limped toward his chair.

  “I’ve already got one.” Gareth smiled motioning at the table beneath him. Waiting a moment, ensuring his point was made, he stood and marched to his own seat. “I can’t prove it yet, but Erik has some hand in the attacks. I stopped by the pub in Shadgull last night.”

  “And by stopped you mean you stayed all night.”

  “I’m tellin’ the damned story! Anyway, I was makin’ my way upstairs with a fine young lass. When I passed by the back room, I saw Erik and his second-- oh, what was his name? Jem.” He raised his finger, denoting remembrance. “They were dressed in all black, talkin’ to a guy about a special dagger. I couldn’t stay real long for fear of drawing too much attention—”

  “And by that you mean you were distracted by the girl you previously mentioned.” Demetrix suppressed a chuckle, seeing the irritation build in his friend.

  “Do you want to hear what saw or not?”

  “By all means.”

  “You sure? Cause I can keep it to myself. I’d hate to waste your time.”

  Sighing heavily Demetrix waved him on, all humor lost. “Please proceed.”

  “Where was I? Oh yeah, I didn’t wanna’ draw too much attention, but I know a deal when I see one. I did manage to see a drawing of the dagger before my entertainment drug me off. I knew I’d seen it somewhere before so I stopped by the vaults before coming here.” Gareth reached under his cloak and drew a thin, wavy dagger of black and purple. He extended it toward the ranger. He released it, letting it fall into his hand.

  Demetrix took the kris, examining the runes running along the blade. “You think this is what they’re after?”

  “I do. And if they’re willin’ to kill their own citizens for it, somethin’ tells me they’d stop at nothin’ to get it. I’d hate to see the aftermath if they learned we have it.”

  “I wonder what’s so important about it?”

  Gareth watched in earnest. “Ravion killed the nightking with it. I don’t know its history before he had it. Ravion said to lock it away and keep it safe. On his words alone we can’t risk Erik finding it.”

  “I remember small pieces of Levithion talking about the dagger. He wouldn't ever say much, but I could tell he was afraid of it. I’ll send for Perrin. He’s quickly making progress. Maybe he can tell us a little more.”

  “I’d express caution. We don’t know what this thing does or why he wants it so bad. Best I’ve been able to find was a report of a dagger that can grant unlimited power to its wielder.” Gareth stood reclaiming the mysterious blade. “I’ll return it to the vault until we have more answers.”

  A blinding light exploded, illuminated the room.

  Demetrix shielded his eyes, turning to see the source floating above the council table. “Gareth. Are you seeing this?”

  “Aye!”

  “Ravion?” Grabbing his cane Demetrix stood, stepping closer to the glowing silhouette. “Ravion?” There was no mistaking the face staring back at him, though he seemed darker than he recalled.

  The light grew wider forcing them to look away. It wrapped around, surrounding them in a warm embrace. They couldn’t see anything it was so bright.

  Hearing the commotion on the other si
de of the council room door, William approached, slowly reaching out. It wasn’t alarming, but it didn’t belong. He pushed the door open peeking into the seemingly abandoned chamber. “My Lord? Are you here? I just received word the Black Lotus were offered a sum of two thousand gold for your head.”

  A loud clap echoed out.

  William stepped into the room. He saw the wooden cane lying upon the floor. “Highlord Demetrix?” Making his way to the table, keeping his eyes open for any sign of them, he reached down inspecting the gnarled wood. A purple sheen caught his attention. Abandoning the worn cane he secured the wicked dagger lying beside it. William, claim me! Hearing the whispers in his mind, he felt a jolt shoot through his hand. Turning toward the door dagger in hand, a purple glazed reflected in his eyes.

  The story will continue in

  The Order of the Trident: Exodus

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  Author's Notes

  I'm going to risk making an ass out of myself and assume that you've read The Order of the Trident (Eldarlands Book 1) prior to stumbling upon this one. If you did, you should already know that the story started many years ago in the mystical lands of the Misted Hills. That's the name of the Springfield chapter of the Eldaraenth© Live Action Role Playing (LARP) game. I met some of my closest friends in the fantasy world built in that small field north of town. We'd get dressed up in our finest (or whatever we were able to find/make that had a proper feel to it) garb and armor. We'd don a variety of weapons, and hop into the mind set of our various characters. Once there, the events of that fantastic and alluring world shaped our stories. We were the characters. Their actions were our own. We faced character rivalries, bandit attacks, and hundreds of other scenarios that could have arisen in any fantasy setting. I'd be lying if I said we never instigated said problems, depending on what we felt was needed at the time. There was more than one occasion where my friends and I would find out what the group of adventurers were after for that particular part of the world story line. We'd track down their objectives and depending on what we felt was best, we'd either make it easier or harder for them. There was one event in general that the adventurers needed the hammer of this particular dwarf. They weren't the most political of bands and we knew they would simply kill the dwarf and take the hammer. So we (The Order of the Trident) banded together and located the dwarf, putting numerous obstacles between ourselves and supposed heroes. We spent the entire event protecting and moving this dwarf all to preserve his life. In the end, we delivered the dwarf where he was needed and he happily did the forging that was required of his hammer, but he wasn't going to give up his tool, even if it cost him his life. We weren't always the good guys, but we were never the bad guys, at least not to our own perspective. Every action we took, good or questionable, was for the sole purpose of protecting the world we'd all grown to love. But this series of books is not directly related to that game world. A few of the character names and personalities have transferred between the two, but over all, this series is its own world. The events here-in were created my me, in my imagination, and should not be confused with the details that occurred in the Eldaraenth world.

  I released The Order of the Trident (Eldarlands Book 1) in October of 2016 at a small convention in Evansville Indiana, called Tri-Con. It's a fun little Con where the staff and guests feel like family. I'm happy to have been accepted into their ranks and grateful that they allowed me the opportunity to release my book there. I managed to nearly sell out of books, which is a goal I strive for at each show, and most of the time, am able to obtain. I'm extremely grateful that so many believe in me enough to read my work. And were able to give me a successful launch. But that small feat aside, it was nothing compared to what I learned when I returned home. My new book had climbed the charts of Amazon's Top 100 Hot New Releases. I checked it multiple times, day and night, for nearly a month, each time recording where it was sitting. Some days it climbed, other days it fell, but it was on the list and that's what mattered. I can't put into words my excitement in seeing this, but there was one detail that made it better than anything I could have ever hoped for. At one point, my book had climbed the ranks and taken position two points above J.K. Rowling's newest book, Fantastic Beasts. I hate name dropping. I feel it's simply a way to ride someone's coattail in measure of your own success compared to them. I try not to do it if at all possible, but in this case, I was ecstatic that my book was not only on the same list, but had somehow ranked higher. I, as so many others, fell in love with the Harry Potter books the first time I read them. In fact, I've probably read those books more times than I have any other title aside from my own work. I have immense amounts of respect for her and her work, and I hope one day my name can reach even half as far as hers. In fact, as an indirect tribute, I named one of the chapters in this book, Fantastic Beast.

  In all the excitement of this, there was one unexpected detail I was forced to take a long, hard look at. Statistically speaking, when a book spikes the way mine did, it puts the author on a time limit to release another book, lest there be lost momentum. That means I had extremely limited time to get the next book finished and ready to release. In my preliminaries, I had roughly 3 months to finish the next manuscript and be ready to go to print. Which is suppose to cause a secondary spike on the first book, and send this one up with it. We have yet to see if this is the case, but everything I've found suggest it will follow the pattern. But writing a new book so quickly isn't always possible, especially when the author works a full time job, is a single parent, and has many responsibilities to maintain. I had another book I'd been working on, which had to be finished before I could direct my attention toward this one. I went through the entire manuscript and did a near complete rewrite in two weeks. Once I'd finished that, I sent it out for what felt like the twentieth time. Though in reality, it was more like the fourth. I wasted no time. That day I went to work writing this book. I had a small part of the story left over from the ARC. But it was broken and in need of a complete rewrite. I did the only thing I could do. I set myself a goal. It had to be completed no later than December 31, 2016. I push
ed myself every day for two months, but in the end I made it. I finished the final words of the last chapter on December 30th and sent it to my editor, which is an awesome guy named, Edward Gehlert. He's an amazing horror author and I enjoy working with him. I recommend doing yourself a favor and checking out his work when you have a moment. Anyway, I reached my goal. I got the manuscript sent off, and I went to work writing all the filler materials, such as the words you're reading right now. But enough about what I did to get it written. I want to talk about what was going on while I was writing it.

  Being a professional author requires more work than people realize. Not only do we have to devote years to the craft in order to be able to write fairly well. We have to constantly train ourselves to be better than we were the day before. In this industry, things are always shifting, always changing. We have to be able to change with them, or we're going to be left behind in an outdated world. This means we have to study the market. We have to identify current trends. We have to maintain our public relations and keep the fans and readers we already have, all while trying to bring in new ones. And if you're self published, as I am with this particular series, there's so much more that has to go into it.

  A few months ago, I began writing a blog. I only post once a week, and I center the topic on things I've learned in this industry since I started. Fortunately, I'm always trying to learn something new, so I shouldn't run out of content any time soon. Though I must say, it's a bit of a chore finding time to post every week, especially when you're devoting as much time as possible to hit a deadline. Thus far, I've managed, and I'll continue to do so. Aside from that, I have to keep some focus on my social media pages. It's a sad thing, but this day in age we have to have them if we're going to grow our audience. I've learned a way to cheat a bit. Actually it's not so much a cheat as it is being efficient. I have all my pages linked together so I only have to post once. That single post automatically travels across to all other platforms, which keeps me active and adding content, and saving me a fair amount of work. Hell, anymore I rarely post on my personal page. I say what I've got to say on my author page, and share it to my personal. It draws more views to my author page, which boosts how many people can see what I've got to say. If only I could figure out how to get my blog, Amazon, and Goodreads to work with my Facebook and Twitter, then I'd be gold. But as it stands, I have some weird divide between the two that I haven't taken the time to learn how to fix yet.