Dreams of Darkness Rising
(Prism Volume 1)
Ross M Kitson
Copyright © 2012 Ross M Kitson
Printed by Fantasy Island Book Publishing
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
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Structural Editor: J Darroll Hall
The Prism trilogy
Volume 1: Dreams of Darkness Rising
Volume 2: Echoes of Empires Lost
Volume 3: Whispers of Worlds Reclaimed
Find more about the world of Nurolia at http://sites.google.com/site/worldofnurolia/home
Acknowledgements.
Firstly I would like to thank my family for all their support in the creation of this trilogy. Amanda, Charlie, Evelyn and Henry—I love you loads.
Secondly a big cheers to Nik, Giles and Dan for reading the drafts. It wouldn’t be half the book without your input.
Prism Volume 1 Dreams of Darkness Arising
Table of contents
Map of North-Western Nurolia. c 1920
Map of South-Western Nurolia. c1920.
Map of North-eastern Nurolia c1920.
Map of South-Eastern Nurolia c1920.
Map of South Goldoria and North Thetoria c1920
Prism Book 1The City of Mists.
Prologue The House of Preparation
Chapter 1 The Air Mage
Chapter 2 Kirit’s Eye
Chapter 3 The Carnival
Chapter 4 Dark Intentions.
Chapter 5 The Lamb
Chapter 6 Funerals and Forts.
Chapter 7 Cutting the Cord
Prism Book 2Chained
Chapter 1 The Dead City
Chapter 2 Trial by Fire
Chapter 3 An Unexpected Reunion
Chapter 4 The Half-Ogre
Chapter 5 Defiance
Chapter 6 The Crypt.
Chapter 7 Escape into the Mist.
Chapter 8 Darkness rising
Chapter 9 The Necromancer
Chapter 10 The Feast of Blood
Chapter 11 Blackstone Bridge
Prism Book 3Quest
Chapter 1 The Farm.
Chapter 2 The Wake
Chapter 3 An Unexpected Reunion
Chapter 4 The Barrowlands
Chapter 5 The Sanctuary
Chapter 6 Death in the chapel
Chapter 7 Spectres of the Past
Chapter 8 A Cold Future.
Chapter 9 A Low Profile
Chapter 10 The City of a Hundred Bridges
Chapter 11 Terror at the Ball
Chapter 12 Goldoria City
Chapter 13 Darkness in the City of Gold
Chapter 14 Childhood’s End.
Chapter 15 Blood on Steel
Epilogue The Realisation of Dreams
Glossary.
i. Map of North-Western Nurolia. c 1920
ii. Map of South-Western Nurolia. c1920.
iii. Map of North-eastern Nurolia c1920.
iv. Map of South-Eastern Nurolia c1920.
v. Map of South Goldoria and North Thetoria c1920
Prism: dramatis personae.
The house staff of the Keep.
Emelia—kitchenmaid
Sandila—her close friend.Housemaid.Azaguntan.
Abila—another friend from the Isles. Scullerymaid
Gelia—maid at the Keep
Annre—maid at the Keep
Tarn—maid at the Keep
Gedre—maid at the Keep
Quellik—maid at the Keep
MotherGresham—housekeeper at the Keep
Halgar—maid at the Keep
Torm—footman at the Keep
Captain Ris—Captain in the Garrison of Coonor
Sarik—a guard in the Keep
The inhabitants of Eeria
Hirfen—chief valet & butler to Lord Ebon-Farr
Tremen—head of Greypeak preparatory house
Talis Ebon-Farr—Lower Lord of the Eerian council and Warden of the Garrisons
Heler Ebon-Farr—his wife (born of the Farvous house)
Jular Farvous—nephew to Talis and son of the Farvouses (by Heler’s brother)
Elik Farvous—head of the Farvous family and Orla’s father
Hulgor Farvous—eldest son of Elik Farvous
Karak Ebon-Farr—eldest son of the Ebon-Farrs
Geldir Ebon-Farr—second eldest son, to join the Priesthood
Uthor Ebon-Farr—third son. To join the Knights
Erica Ebon-Farr—daughter to the Ebon-Farrs
Inkas-Tarr—Arch-mage of Air (gold sash)
Ekra-Hurr—Air-mage (brown sash)
Bardit-Urr—Air-mage (silver)
Lady Orla Farvous—Knight of the Air (captain: 3rd lance. Silver wing)
Highlord Cranston—Highlord of the Eerian council
High Cmmdr Taros—Commander of the Knights of Air
Sir Risstan Helminth—Knight of the Air (sergeant: 4th Lance. Silver wing)
Lord Hinteron—Lower lord on the council and mining magnate
Shkris—Netreptan envoy on the council
The Denizens of Kir
Jurges Innsman—proprietor of the Rose Tavern in Kir
Alfra’Te—merchant from Kâlastan
Olix—an Azaguntan assassin from Kir
Jelbettio—a Feldorian mercenary
Malik—apprentice assassin in Kir
Hunor—a thief and adventurer. Thetorian
Jem—his friend. Goldorian. A Wild-mage
Linkon Arikson—Guildmaster of thieves in Kir
Scarseye—thief and enforcer in the Kirian guild (West Avenue Boys)
Thintor Lemon-bite—Wild-mage in the employ of the West Avenue boys
The Denizens of Bulia
Igred—Northridge Guildmaster in Bulia, Azagunta
Hegris Grach—Azaguntan merchant and criminal
Olthik Slanteye—Inn keeper of the Lamb Inn
Varix Aol—East side guild master in Bulia
Vrhin—a guard at Grach’s villa
The Knights of the Air
Sir Ronen Unhert
Sir Robert
Sir Iyri Minrik
In Artoria
Marthir—a druid hailing from Artoria
Kervin—a tracker also from Artoria
Ygris—Fire-mage from Pyrios
Sir Tinkek—a former Artorian Knight
Ograk—a Feldorian warrior
Master Hü-Jen—deceased Shorvorian mentor to Hunor
Ebfir—acolyte druid to Marthir
Iogar—an Artorian warrior
Darklord Jüt—commander of the Knights of Ebony Heart
Darklord Klir—sub-commander of the Knights of Ebony Heart
Xirik—a dark wizard
Garin—a dark wizard
Vildor—The Darkmaster. The master of the Ghasts
In Thetoria
Aldred Enfarson—son of Baron Enfarson
Argon Enfarson—Baron of Thetoria
Livor Korianson—Aldred’s friend.
Hinkir—a stable boy at Blackstone Castle
Jirdin—Aldred’s servant
Quigor—advisor to Baron Enfarson. An Azaguntan
Kerd
ir Almsman—physician to Baron Enfarson
Holbek Gartson—a captain of the guard at Blackstone Castle
Arlana Gartson—his wife
Thrisk—a soldier of Baron Enfarson; Azaguntan in origin
Lord Jerstis—one of the Lords sworn to Baron Enfarson. Nr Greenford
Poris Longshanks—lordling from Enfarson’s Barony
Orlo Smithson—burghmaster of Eviksburg
Urgon Tannerson—Innkeeper of the Traveller’s Rest
Pastor Burker—priest of Mortis
Guntir Hawkskin—captain of the town guard in Eviksburg
Kindar Hawkskin—brother to Guntir. Soldier to Baron Benrich the Younger
Aargil Markson—(deceased) Lord to Baron Benrich the Elder
Inger Markson—widow to Lord Aargil
Hela Markson—daughter to Lord Markson
Orgar Markson—(deceased) son of Lord Markson
Uhurk Wangstane—a merchant from Kokis
Ekris—a mysterious troubadour and thespian
Urenst Enfarson—cousin to Baron Enfarson. Lord of Oldston
Argas Enfarson—cousin to Baron Enfarson. Called “the runt”
Ligor—dark wizard in Thetoria city
Ajacre—dark wizard in Nolir, South Thetoria
Jaan—a farmer in Nth Thetoria
Loral—his wife
Hinfer—their eldest son
Mek-ik-Ten—Galvorian monk and mentor to Jem
In Goldoria
Sir Krem Listerthwaite—a Goldorian knight of good standing
Gilert—a squire of mean disposition
Utrok—a dark wizard
Elbek-Trall—a Pyrian merchant docked in Goldoria
Prism Book 1
The City of Mists.
Prologue The House of Preparation
Sunstide 1911
Emelia dreamt of dark things. She stumbled down the expansive beach, the sands sticky beneath her bare feet. The waves thundered and the trees bordering the sand bent like old men as the storm whipped up. Rain lashed against her as she saw the lone figure knelt ahead. His sobs ripped through her chest like a knife.
“Papa? Papa, why are you crying?” she asked.
Her gaunt father made no reply but rather turned and with horror Emelia saw his eyes were two gold coins. Terror gripped her heart as she staggered back. The gold began to run, pouring in molten tears down his cadaverous cheeks, steaming in the driving rain.
Emelia screamed but the sound was flattened under the crash of immense waves. Her father dug his fingers into his smouldering cheeks and wrenched, tearing the skin off as if breaking open a crab. No blood ran as he shredded the flaps of flesh away but rather Emelia saw a grey hue beneath, like rock.
With a final wrench her father ripped apart the skin and a man made of stone remained. He regarded Emelia and then slowly began moving towards her, his sockets gaping voids.
Emelia scrabbled backwards in the sand but her legs felt like lead. Then she looked down and she saw: saw the sand become stone; saw the stone become dark and saw the darkness harden across the pale sands of the beach like a giant shadow. All around her, the island surrendered its colour, slipping beneath the featureless dark. Then the stone came for her too, began spreading up her legs, closing tightly about her chest, sealing up her mouth, her nose, her eyes with cold, uncaring rock.
***
The dormitory was pitch-black. The terror stayed with her as her sleep-caked eyes adjusted to the gloom. Emelia was shivering uncontrollably. She bit her lip hard, to stop her teeth chattering.
Had she woken the other girls? She cautiously lifted her head from her bed and checked. No—they all slept despite the chill of the room. Her hand slid beneath her single sheet and her heart skipped a beat as she realised she had wet the bed in her fear.
Hot tears flowed from her eyes. She would get the birch for sure. But even that would be as nothing compared to the taunts of the other girls. The Azaguntan girls particularly would seize on this as a sign of weakness.
A dozen fantasies ran through her six-year-old mind. She lay there wracked with indecision for half an hour, the cooling wetness of the urine feeling like a blanket of snow on her body.
Emelia rolled quietly from her bed and then carefully removed the wet sheet. She bundled it up then crept across the flagstoned dormitory. The other girls did not stir, lost in their own private dreaming.
Emelia stepped out into the corridor. Light from the blue Aquatonian moon, her moon, shone through the frost-painted window. Emelia shivered from cold and fear as she scuttled down the corridor. The stone walls of the servants’ quarters were a featureless grey and harsh to the touch.
She passed into the grand entrance hall. Warmth flickered from lanterns set in the ornate brass hooks which studded the oak-panelling. Dour faces of the still living and the long-time dead glared down at her from the portraits on the walls. Emelia forced her eyes downward as if to look back at one of those fearsome portraits would set them screaming an alert.
The linen room was adjacent to the entrance hall. She passed a huge tapestry, its threads as thin as the grease the servants spread on their bread in the mornings.
Emelia eased the linen room door open. In the safety of the dark room she stripped her nightdress off and threw it with her sheet into the large basket. Her skin became taut with the cold as she hurriedly donned a fresh dress and felt in the darkness for the pile of starched sheets.
Her task complete, Emelia stepped out into the hallway and returned to the entrance hall. A rush of terror erupted in her throat as she heard voices outside the main door.
The door began to open.
Her eyes darted between the stairs and the door back to the dormitory corridor. By Asha, she would not make it across the length of the hall.
Emelia ran for the stairs, taking two at a time. Each creak of the oak stairs seemed to peal like thunder in her ears. She achieved the upper landing and crouched, her heart pounding.
The three men were ascending the stairs.
Emelia scampered along the upper hallway, seeking a niche to hide within. She saw a small recess between a cabinet and the edge of an alcove and squeezed into the dark gap.
The voices were loud and unfamiliar. They spoke Eerian, the Imperial language. After five months of birch across the knuckles every time she spoke her own dialect instead of the master’s she had learnt Eerian soon enough. The owners strode into a room ten feet from her hiding place.
She knew she should return to the dormitory but then a tiny voice deep down bubbled to the surface: a naughty voice, a voice of rebellion.
Heart in her mouth, she snuck along the panelled corridor towards the voices. She could see three figures through the crack of the door: one tall, one young and one fat. The tallest she recognised as Master Tremen, the head of the preparatory house. His scanty grey hair covered his wrinkled scalp like dust.
The other two were sat in the room, sipping at what Emelia guessed must have been smoking wine. One was a young man, his nose angled like the beak of a large bird. He had the arrogance that came with wealth and power. The second was a short man with cheeks so flushed that it made Emelia think of a fat robin. His grey hair was pasted to his head with lacquer. Emelia began to concentrate, picking her way through the clipped tones.
“… suggest with this unseasonable snow that you take the opportunity to indulge my hospitality and stay the next few nights, Herfen,” Master Tremen said, sipping his wine. “It will give you an opportunity to select the appropriate girls for Lord Ebon-Farr.”
“You are kind as ever, Tremen, though I would speculate you have a fair idea what girls we require anyway,” Herfen said. “None the less it will allow Lord Karak here to further his education.”
Emelia stared in wonder. The fat robin had called him Tremen, not Master Tremen, but no blow or birch had followed.
Master Tremen turned to regard the younger man. “I am still uncertain as to why your father felt it pertinent to send you with Herf
en to my house, though of course it is an honour.”
The young man drained his wine. “Father seeks to dispatch me to study the Rolls in three years, as he was chosen to by his father. I suggested it would be of benefit for me to see first hand how the Statute of Servitude works in reality. Some of the chaps at school jest it is simply slavery for the faint-hearted.”
Master Tremen laughed and reached for a small gilded box from one of the bookshelves in the study. He offered the contents to his guests.
“Please indulge in a touch of non-liberal snuff. I think you’ll find what we and the eight other prep houses participate in is anything but slavery, Lord Karak. I mean of course there is a place for slavery in Eeria—after all who else would build our roads?”
The two guests both took pinches of the snuff and snorted it, concluding the act with a tiny shudder.
“In fact the slaves come on the same trade route as this delectable weed. Huge chaps, skin as dark as onyx and muscles like a mountain giant. But so, so primitive—they even worship the spirits of their ancestors.”
“The Galvorians and the Shorvorians both respect the spirits of ancestors, Tremen, so that’s hardly an indication of being primitive,” the one called Lord Karak said, wiping his beaked nose.
“No, no indeed—you would make a fine Lawlord, m’lord. I think my point is that they are far better off working as slaves in civilisation—it is a far better life they have. And that in itself was good enough for not just us now, but also for the Pyrians and the Artorians in their time.”
“Until the Statute came into being,” Herfen said. “It’s a charitable act, m’lord. We take these girls from their disadvantaged childhoods, give the parents a very reasonable sum of gold and allow them to work in some of our finest houses. And most choose to remain in service after they achieve their twenty first year.”
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