Mantle: The Return of the Sha

by Gary Bregar

  MANTLE

  The Return of the Sha

  Gary Bregar

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2015 Gary Bregar

  Original jacket art hand painted by:

  Brandon Hovet (www.WorpedStudios.com)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015949752

  Bregar Books / Gary Bregar

  Denver, Colorado, U.S.A.

  www.GaryBregar.com

  All characters, events, and locations are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Innocence

  Misfortune

  The King and the Trees

  The King’s Quest

  The Darkness of Balki

  The King’s Redemption

  Changing of Castles

  Truth and Lore

  Monarchs

  Queen

  Deception and Despair

  Journey

  The Joining of Forces

  The Children of Menagraff

  The Battle in Front of the War

  King, Queen, Heir, and Sha

  About the Author

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to the numerous beta readers who took the time to read my earlier drafts. You provided me with invaluable feedback, insight, and encouragement. Without you, this book would not be what it is today.

  To my long-time friend, Brandon Hovet, who hand-painted the jacket art for this book. You are a truly gifted artist. I’ve known your talents since we were in grade school and your work continues to amaze me today. Thank you for being awesome.

  And last, but certainly not least, I thank my young friends Delaney and Reese. Your excitement for my work gave me new reasons to write, and inspired this book. I never could have guessed that a single conversation at a baseball game would lead me to create an entire world.

  DEDICATION

  For my mother, Pat Giordano, who gave me daily encouragement throughout this process. Her support and confidence in my writing was exactly what I needed.

  Thanks, mom!

  PROLOGUE

  The Resurrection of Menagraff

  ENVELOPED IN DARKNESS, the children of Menagraff begin to take shape, slowly drawing the dust of evil from the womb of Mount Narciss. In the final stages of their development, it will be the distinctive singular horn that will complete their arrival.

  Their birth has been accelerated by the return of the second prince, and they require only the return of the third to complete their metamorphosis from soil to beast. Once complete, it will be their father and king who will hand them their ability to awaken.

  They will then pull themselves from the mountain to battle against the innocence and good virtue of the three allied kingdoms—returning balance between good and evil to the land of Mantle.

  Innocence

  IT WAS A PARTICULARLY crisp morning in the village of Terra, and eleven year old Lizabet Abbot, once again found herself daydreaming of worlds beyond her own.

  She was leaning against the hog pens, staring down at the dry and cracked mud. It wouldn’t be long, she thought, before the pigs would summon the rain. But that wasn’t likely to happen on a day with such a chill in the air. The pigs would not bring rain to the village until it was needed to replenish their pools of mud to protect them from the heat. The pigs, of course, thought nothing of their ability to create rain. But the farms of Terra thrived, in part, because of the additional showers that they brought, so the villagers thanked the pigs nevertheless.

  Had Lizabet been gifted with Animal-speak, she would have simply asked them outright, when rain could be expected. But sadly, she had not been gifted with Animal-speak, or any other ability for that matter, which often resulted in her loneliness.

  In the Kingdom of Forris, it was unheard of for a Forie to be born without any gifts, so the villagers didn’t quite know what to make of her—a girl born without magic. The adults of the village, who were always so warm and kind to her aunt and siblings, avoided her whenever possible. The children, when they weren’t being cruel, shunned her outright.

  Dorian Bellows, who lived with his parents nearby, was her only true friend. Unlike the others, he saw past her magical shortcomings, and visited her often on the small farm where she lived with her Aunt Roni, brother Jonattan, and sister Bella.

  But Dorian was not set to visit on this day. It was planting week, and at the age of thirteen, it was expected that he would work alongside his father. This meant that Lizabet’s day would likely be ordinary at best.

  As she continued to stare blankly at the dried mud, she caught a glimpse of her Aunt Roni from the corner of her eye. She was coming out to check up on her, and her reverie had led her to fall behind in her chores.

  “Lizabet, dear, what’s taking you so long? I need eggs if I’m going to prepare mid-breakfast.”

  “Yes, Aunt, I’m nearly through. I’ll be inside with the eggs in a moment.”

  “Thank you, dear. For a moment I thought that you had forgotten how to pluck eggs!”

  Lizabet walked down the long rows of wooden boxes that were home to each chicken. She reached into each box to pull out the eggs that had been laid overnight, and set each one carefully in her basket. The chickens seemed happy today, more than usual. They were clucking loudly and their clucking had a musical sound to it, as if in celebration of something. Although Lizabet didn’t understand Animal-speak, she knew immediately what that meant; there were new chicks that had hatched.

  She quickly collected the remaining eggs and made her way to the nursery, where they kept the expectant mother hens. There, the chickens were even more excited. In the last box of the row, there stood the farm’s most beautiful hen, standing over five new chicks. They were as fluffy as yellow cotton and made their own chirps of celebration. Lizabet could tell right away that they were glad to have hatched. How dreadfully boring it would be to be stuck inside of an egg, she thought. She gave the mother hen an assuring smile and bent over to get a closer look at the newest arrivals to the chicken coops. There were five chicks, each beautiful and yellow. But one chick stood out. It was beautiful also, but it was smaller than the others. In fact, it was tiny. Lizabet thought the new chick was at least half the size of the others. She was small, and Lizabet thought she was wonderful.

  She brought over some ground corn for the new chicks and ran back up to the cottage with her basket of eggs so that Aunt Roni could prepare mid-breakfast, and also so that she could tell her aunt all about the new chicks.

  “Guess what, Aunt!” Lizabet exclaimed as she rushed in the door of the stone and mud cottage. It had been a long time since anything unusual had happened, and she found herself bursting with excitement.

  “What is it, dear? Why all the fuss?” Aunt Roni replied.

  “Herrian’s eggs have hatched. There are five new chicks!” Lizabet said, catching her breath.

  “Splendid!” Aunt Roni said. “Herrian is our finest hen, so I’m sure her chicks will be beautiful as well. Everyone in Terra will want to buy them, when they’re a bit larger. I will discuss the matter with Herrian.”

  Aunt Roni had the gift of Animal-speak, as did many other Fories. She was able to talk with the animals, and frequently did. She didn’t talk to them in the traditional sense, and it
certainly wasn’t any language that Lizabet could understand herself, but she had heard it spoken many times before and was glad to know that her aunt would talk with Herrian about the new chicks to congratulate her on their arrival. It was always wise to discuss such things with the animals. Several years earlier, when Lizabet’s Uncle Tore was still alive, there was a very lengthy negotiation with the hummingbirds when he had proposed moving the hummingbird feeder to hang on another side of the cottage. That negotiation had lasted nearly a week before both sides were satisfied with the arrangement.

  But it was understood by the hens that their chicks would be sold at market. They held no ill will; it was just the way it was. Occasionally, though, either the hen or Aunt Roni would make a request that a chick be kept at the farm. That was discussed at great length before any decisions were made, of course.

  Lizabet ate her breakfast quickly, almost inhaling her eggs, greens, and raisin bread.

  “You shouldn’t eat so quickly dear—food should be savored,” Aunt Roni said.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt, but I want to go back out to look at the new chicks.”

  “They aren’t going anywhere, dear,” Aunt Roni said with a wide smile and a sweet giggle. She was a plump woman of short stature and when she giggled it seemed to light up the room. Lizabet calmed down a bit, or at least appeared to.

  When mid-breakfast was done and the dishes stacked neatly in the cupboard, Lizabet tugged at her aunt’s brightly colored flowered dress and looked up at her with her blue eyes.

  “All right, dear, we can go take a look at Herrian’s chicks,” Aunt Roni said, smiling.

  When they arrived at the nursery, Herrian was sitting toward the back of her box, while the young chicks were scrambling and jumping over one another to eat the crushed corn that Lizabet had set out for them. But Lizabet noticed the tiny chick that had caught her attention earlier was standing in the corner. None of the others would let her get to the corn, and with her small size she had no way of forcing herself into the bunch.

  Meanwhile, Aunt Roni went about the business of formally congratulating Herrian on the new arrivals. Lizabet couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it seemed clear that Aunt Roni and Herrian were also discussing the time frame for which the chicks would be taken to market. If any special requests would be made, now would be the time.

  Lizabet continued to watch the birds and became sad that the small one was being left out. She knew all too well how that felt, since she was often left out herself. She reached over to tug at Aunt Roni’s dress once again, this time pulling her down to whisper in her ear so that Herrian couldn’t hear what she was saying—not that she would have understood.

  “Aunt, can we keep the small one, if Herrian agrees? She looks so sad and I could raise her myself. She could be my friend.”

  “I don’t know, dear. That is a very odd request. On the other hand, I’m not sure what price I would be able to get for her at market—being so small as she is.”

  “Please, Aunt,” Lizabet said.

  She was nearly begging.

  “I promise that I will take care of her myself. The other chicks won’t let her eat and I’m afraid that she will go hungry. Besides, see how lonely she looks.”

  Aunt Roni looked at Lizabet, who was standing before her, wearing a light blue ribbon that held up her hair. She was now making her case by looking up at her with a delicate smile that she knew her aunt couldn’t resist.

  Aunt Roni let out a sigh of defeat. Lizabet knew that her aunt couldn’t win a battle against her smile and she had won the decision.

  “All right, dear, I will discuss the matter with Herrian,” Aunt Roni said as she shook her head and returned a smile to Lizabet. “You go wait outside and I will talk it over with her.”

  Lizabet stood outside the nursery for what seemed to her like an eternity. Discussions of this nature could take time and this was no ordinary request. Aunt Roni would have to make the case to Herrian that Lizabet would raise the chick, and Herrian, for her part, would have concern about her family line being carried on in the coops by such a small hen. But in the end, the negotiations concluded with an arrangement that would satisfy both sides. Aunt Roni was to keep two chicks; one that would become a new hen in the coops and would provide chicks of her own, and the small chick that would become Lizabet’s companion.

  When Aunt Roni went outside to reveal the great news, Lizabet was thrilled. She hugged her aunt fiercely, then began to run into the nursery.

  “Wait just a minute, dear,” Aunt Roni said, stopping her before she could reach the nursery door.

  “There are going to be some rules to go along with this arrangement. You will be responsible for raising the chick on your own—with no help from Herrian. She will never have chicks of her own, but the good news is that when she comes to the age when she receives her gifts, she will be permitted to contribute to the village projects. Do you understand, dear?”

  Lizabet now stopped to think about this arrangement. It was a badge of great pride for the hens that they should produce new chicks at least once in their lives. But Lizabet thought that anyone in Terra, who might happen to buy the chick at market, wouldn’t likely allow the making of new chicks from such a small bird anyway. Given that, she decided that this was still the best option for her newly hatched friend.

  At least the chick would be allowed to contribute to village projects. The feathers from the chickens of Terra contained the gift of elevation. The Fories used the feathers when they needed to elevate for one reason or another. Generally, they were used to assist in building large structures or repairing roofs. But there had been occasions when they had been used to elevate to great heights in order to locate a lost child, or even to hang decorations in the trees during the King’s Holiday. The fact that Herrian and Aunt Roni would allow this was a great relief to Lizabet. She thought how sad it would be if the poor chick was to grow up unable to contribute to the village at all. She knew how that felt also.

  When Lizabet finally got back into the nursery, she smiled and thanked Herrian for the chick (Aunt Roni translated). She then reached into the box and gently picked up the tiny chick, carried it to the opposite side of the nursery that wasn’t currently occupied, and set it down in a new box of its own.

  Once Lizabet procured the necessary straw, water, and crushed corn for the box, she pulled up a small stool and sat to gaze upon her new friend. She had never been so happy to have such a worthy companion. And even though she couldn’t talk to the chick in Animal-speak, she somehow knew that the chick understood her, and that they were now bonded as friends for life.

  She wasted no time going about her first order of business. “From now forward, I shall call you Carlotta.”

  Misfortune

  IT WAS A WARM DAY in Terra when Lizabet, Jonattan, and Bella, had been gathered by their Aunt Roni for a discussion that would alter their lives.

  After the death of her mother, Aunt Roni had been the parent figure in Lizabet’s short life and she was now explaining that she, too, was coming to the end of hers. Aunt Roni’s life was expiring and there was nothing that Lizabet could do about it. She felt helpless, but she had been through this conversation once before when her own mother had tried to explain her passing to her when she was just three years old. It was her earliest memory and by far the most confusing.

  People in Forris did not generally die of illness or disease since afflictions of that nature could often be cured through various methods, using whatever magic was appropriate. Fories had a finite length of time to live and when that time had expired, it was expected that they would leave life behind and simply live in the memories of others.

  War and accidental death could bring this on sooner, but it was a constant philosophical debate among Forie scholars whether or not an accidental death or loss of life during times of war was a disruption to the system of life, or if a person’s expiration was calculated against these unforeseen events naturally.

  Usually, a
Forie could sense that their time was up and would have several days to prepare and make their goodbyes. Some Fories dismissed this sense of expiration, or didn’t recognize it for what it was, but Roni wasn’t one of these people. She knew her time had come, and so she prepared her family the best that she could.

  Lizabet was overtaken with grief immediately.

  “Lizabet, dear, you shouldn’t cry for me. I have lived an extraordinary life. How can I rest knowing that you are more distraught than I am over my own passing?”

  Lizabet weighed her aunt’s words carefully because she knew that she had a point. After all, her Aunt Roni didn’t seem the least bit upset about her expiration and so why did she? “But Aunt, how can I not be sad that you will be put in the ground, never to be seen again?”

  “Oh, but dear, that isn’t true! You will see me whenever you like. You only need think of me, and you will remember my voice and see my face just as clearly as you are at this moment. As long as you think of me from time to time, you will never be without me.”

  “But Aunt, you will never see me grow into a woman, never see me get old!”

  “That is true dear, but I see you now. I see the kindhearted girl that I know will become an astounding woman. I don’t need to see it happen, I know that it will,” Roni answered.

  “How will you know if you leave us, though?” Lizabet asked through tears.

  Roni took Lizabet’s hand in hers and guided her over to the window of the cottage.

  “Look outside,” she said. “Do you see that young apple tree just beginning life on the far side of the meadow?”

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  “Well, I know that even though that tree is young now, it will someday grow big and strong. It will tower over its place in Forris and it will produce splendid red apples. I don’t need to see it grow to know that this is true.”