Fractured Past
A Talnarin Novel Series Book One
D.E. Chapman
Fractured Past
A Talnarin Novel Series Book One
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Copyright © 2017 by D.E. Chapman
All rights reserved.
Cover design by EarthlyCharms.com
Cover image copyright Shutter Stock
Edited by Hannah Bauman at Between the Lines Editorial
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For my friends, family, and parents who supported me and encouraged me throughout my life.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 1
Glossary
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Prologue
They always said that if we were too curious, They would come for us. Yet, humankind is naturally curious. How far does a human need to delve before they cross that invisible threshold only the Others can see? They never specified what They wanted from you either, or why They stole you away in the night like common thieves, never to be heard from or seen again. I never thought I would see it happen or have it happen to me. I never thought that I would become like Them. Something irreplaceable broke in me that night and the many long and torturous nights that followed.
That incident six months ago haunts my every hour, my every breath. To let my mind wander to those memories, even if for only a brief moment of time, leaves an even larger gaping and festering wound in its place. So, I shut myself down so quickly I feel as if I locked some part of my soul out in my haste to bury the pain deep. I feel as if I lose a part of me every time I open those blistering doors to the past. The thought of slowly losing who I am or who I was used to shred me apart. Now… well, now I couldn’t care less about what I have become and what I will continue to become. I’m no longer at odds with myself. Maybe that should frighten me more than the ghost that stalks me, but it doesn’t. I no longer have the capacity to feel fear over such a useless and hopeless matter. That is not to say, however, that I don’t feel fear for other things.
I’m running. From what I don’t exactly know. Perhaps I’m running from my broken past, perhaps I’m running from what I have become, perhaps I’m running from the terrifying unknowns of the future, or perhaps from that presence I feel surrounding me, choking me everywhere I turn. In my eyes, these are all the decent reasons to run, yet that doesn’t make me feel any less cowardly. But running is what I do best, because, well, it’s the only thing I know now.
Chapter 1
I don’t know how far I’ve run. I don’t even know where I am anymore. Shit, I’d simply bolted for the trees and rushed forward blindly in my panic. Eventually, the simple dol forest morphed into rocky terrain. Mountains rose in the distance and the trees grew thicker. The shrubs and flowers nearly disappeared, leaving the occasional bush to litter the forest floor. The temperature grew cooler but remained warm enough to not need a blanket. I hadn’t thought things through, and now I’m wandering the forest in hopes of finding food or shelter.
I’m not sure how long I can continue to move either. My wounds, once a distant pain with the adrenaline pumping, bring fresh tears to my eyes. No place on my body is free from abuse. My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt, and my muscles weaken as blood oozes from my open wounds. With the pain comes the flashes of my past, which may be the worst blow of all.
I stoop as close to the soiled dirt as I can. Whimpers escape my closed lips as the strikes across my back, legs, and arms persists. Every mark against my worn flesh makes me wince and tears leak from my eyes. I can’t bring myself to look my abuser, I can’t stomach the sight of the person who’s inflicting my current pain upon me. My mind rebels against the impossibility of today. This never should have happened and it’s all my fault. I made them this way. All because I went home. I should have run and not looked back. I try to fool myself into thinking that it would never have ever been that simple.
My mind needs rest. It’s all too much for me to see and feel. If I could just close my eyes and sleep, it will be all over. Like a bad dream and when I stir awake, my parents will be standing over me with a cup of warm milk to chase away the lingering nightmare. They’ll greet me with warm smiles filled with love. They would look the same as they always had before, not what they have become now.
Reality crashes down upon my weak frame with another blow to my back. I hear the distant laughter and my thoughts shift. I curse Them all. They did this. Everything is Their fault. If They didn’t exist, I would be free. If They didn’t steal us all, none of this would be happening.
Rage builds like a hot fire in my gut. I start to feed the flame inside in the only way I know how. But before I can feed the blaze more of my fury, another lash against my back leaves me gasping for air. The pain is immense and overwhelming. This one will scar. It’s an odd thing for a cut to scar; I wonder why it does that. How deep does the wound need to go before it’s etched into the skin for all to see? Why do boys and men brag about such things too? It’s a strange thing.
The laughter has subsided and I realize the abuse has stopped. Too faint to lift my head, I stretch my neck to the left where the creature once stood. Now, the grotesque, yet familiar form lay broken in the dirt among three other monstrous beings whose bodies have long gone cold. I can no longer recollect why they look familiar. I can no longer recall why I get the sense that I should be feeling something for them either. Instead, I feel blissfully empty at last.
I’m yanked to my feet and, unable to hold myself up, I sag under the hand pinching my arm. Suddenly the dirt walls have disappeared and I’m being dragged to my personal hell. My already quivering body convulses in terror as I see the familiar walls of my prison surround me once more. I should have known my sweet relief wouldn’t last long, my beloved emptiness. No matter what I do, that emptiness remains just out of reach.
We make a sharp turn to the left and I squeak in panic. I don’t want to go back there. Shit, I can’t. My mind isn’t ready yet. I always get time in the cell before going back. All too soon I’m once again strapped to the metal table in the middle of the room. The equipment around me beeps and hums in a terrifying lullaby warning me of what’s to come.
I gasp and stumble to my knees. I shake my head frantically as if the action alone could bury my past. I try to slow my breathing and calm my thoughts. I breathe in for five seconds, hold for three, and release for seven seconds. I do this repeatedly until my breathing finally steadies. I push my focus toward creating a plan of survival. Damn it, don’t think about it anymore. It’s done. I’m free. Settling my mind on the task at hand helps keep me from wandering into the darkness of my memories. I just need to focus. What’s the plan? What first?
The most important thing right now is finding food. It’s been two days since I left and I’ve only had a few run-ins with edible berries. It’s not nearly enough to tide me over and I’ll soon wither away to nothing. Without my bow, I can’t easily hunt either. I suppose the best bet is to find a human village soon, but I’m lost in unknown territory. It’s my biggest problem right now, and I can’t think about anything else or I’ll break down. That’s not something I can afford. One thing at a time, Alanna.
I look towards the sky, searching for the sun’s position. It’s only late morning, and that still leaves plenty of daylight for walking. Unseen wildlife rustles the fallen leaves in the distance and calls sound off in the forest. Unsure of where to start, I march forward. Anywhere but behind me is a good enough direction for me. My pace is slow thanks to the long breaks I’m forced to take. I walk for most of the morning, frequently checking the position the sun.
Exhaustion causes me to falter and I decide to take another break as I stumble toward a large rock resting amongst fallen leaves. Sitting down gingerly, I steady my breathing and keep my eyes peeled for anything or anyone. All that’s visible is the slightly twisted trunks of the dol trees and their ever-growing limbs reaching for the sun. At this time of year, their leaves are golden orange and brown and already starting to fall to the forest floor. On my third rotation around the forest, I spot a small inkberry bush stocked with ripe fruit to the left, half hidden behind a large dol tree. The small green bush—which reaches no higher than my shins—is littered with small black berries.
I ease up as fast I can and reach for the berries. Ecstatic at finally finding food again, I hastily snatch a few and shove them in my mouth. I barely stop to chew before I’m shoving more berries in my eager mouth. After my fourth mouthful, I pause my frantic eating to pull my thoughts together. I have no idea when I might find more food so I need to be conservative with my portions. Resigned to only feeling a slight ease in the hunger pains, I tuck my shirt in my pants to act as a small pack. After the rest of the berries are safely nestled between my stomach and shirt, I resume my rest on the rock.
A short time later, I realize something is wrong. My hands feel clammy and sweat is beading above my brow. My stomach is churning and it’s not from the hunger pains this time. The wave of nausea is sudden and strong. Next thing I know, I am emptying my meager stomach contents on the forest floor. On my hands and knees, my stomach continues to twist painfully. Shit, those weren’t inkberries after all. What a stupid mistake I made. Nightberries, while almost identical to the inkberries, have one small noticeable difference to them. In my rush for food, I failed to notice the shiny coating and instead ate the poisonous fruit.
Eventually the vomiting ends and the cramps ease. I untuck my shirt and watch as the small black berries roll away. Slowly lowering myself to the ground, I curl myself into a ball. The ordeal left me weaker and more exhausted than before. While I would like nothing more than to sleep the rest of the day away, I need to find somewhere less open and exposed. Harnessing the small amount of energy I have left, I crawl for another fifty paces until I spot a small patch of dol trees clumped closely together. While not ideal, it’s the best I have to work with right now and I’m in no position to complain. I wedge myself in the tight space and lean against the bark. My last thought before falling asleep is how much I hate Them for doing this to me and how much I hate the Gods for letting this happen.
*******
By some miracle in the form of poisonous berries, I managed to finally sleep through the night. I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than a few hours at a time. It’s bad enough that my days are haunted with the past, but so are my dreams. Nights are the worst. The darkness haunts me and the shadows of the night taunt me. There’s no escape from it. This constant fear and exhaustion is chipping away at me, bit by bit. I feel as if I’m losing my mind. Constantly looking over my shoulder for danger makes me feel as though there’s no place left on this planet, Bylir, that’s safe for me. It’s never ending.
This is not at all like the adventures I’d planned as a kid. I had always thought it would be filled with joy and elation, not fear and sorrow. Those books I used to read built life up to be something wonderful and magical. It was all an elegant and elaborate lie told by people with no personal experience in the matter.
I had always enjoyed getting lost in my books. Being transported to another world, another realm filled with great adventures, was my favorite thing to do. They were a way out, an escape from a safe and boring reality. The reality that my life may never turn out to be one with great adventures and unknowns used to strike hard and fast. In some ways, my temporary escape was actually worse. It could never be eternal escape. Yet reading on was all I could think about doing. But with a life like the one I used to have, most couldn’t afford the time it took to invest in novels nor could they afford the sweet and tempting escape it provided. To the villagers, this was just another reason to label me the Village Oddity.
Village life was at times harsh and unforgiving. Every day was the same routine over and over, a vicious cycle of monotony. Expectations were strongly in place in everything that was said or done in the village. The need to please those around me was often overwhelming, suffocating, and exasperating. There was always a fear of failure and taking chances. I was afraid that if I took a chance and dropped everything in my life in search of an adventure, I would only stand to lose everything instead. I felt trapped in a life I never wanted.
This endless cycle of doubt and hesitation only left me feeling like a cornered venhir, edgy and restless. It often led to impatience and frustration. Without an outlet for release, I lashed out at the ones I loved the most, my family. It left an ever-widening gap between us all. Every year it had felt as if the mounting tension steadily grew and consumed us slowly. This instigated arguments, resentment, and reckless acts of my part. This need for an adventure, this restlessness, this suffocation, and this discord perhaps spurred on my stupidity. Or perhaps, my curiosity combined with my awful luck is the reason why my life as it was, was brutally cut down all that time ago.
If there was a way to go back to those ignorant and restless days, I would give anything to do so. I want nothing more than to relive those simple days just for another chance to see my family again. I regret everything that happened and yet now it is far too late. Nothing I do will change that fact. My thoughts are swirling out of control. My rage and guilt consume me. My memories stir to life.
Chapter 2
A flash of lightning distracts me from my search of shelter for the night. My steps falter and I pause to listen for the thunder that follows in the wake of a strike. I hold myself immobile for at least a minute without hearing a distant rumble. Now more cautious, I continue forward another thirty paces before a second flash appears in the distance, just over the tree line. What the shit? My brows furrow and my lips turn down slightly at the corners.
I could go see what that is or I could keep looking for a place to rest. The safest option would be to move in the opposite direction and seek shelter. I have no idea what could be out here beyond the boundary line. It’s not safe to wander in the dark as it is. There were two flashes that time. I’d be insane to let my curiosity cloud my judgment. Really insane. I’ll just turn around and move away from the weird lights.
Yet, even as I think it, my feet start walking the wrong direction. No, no, no, turn around. This is stupid. Insane. No. My feet aren’t li
stening to me as they continue to my potential death march to the eerie light show. This isn’t happening. Stop. Stop. STOP. It’s like I have no control over body. What in the Hellvian is going on? My pace steadily increases with the frequency of the light show. It’s as if the two are in tandem with each other.
My heart is beating out of my chest. A small part of me wishes it would just so I stop moving closer to the blinding lights. As I step over a fallen log, the lights instantly die away. Before I can even wonder what happened to the light show, I feel a slight jolt through my body and although not painful, it’s surprising in its strength. It was like the static electricity I feel when I sometime touch my siblings after scuffing along a rug for a while. I refocus on my surroundings and notice a particular quietness has crept into the space around me. Yet at the same time, I am assaulted by new atmosphere that should have been perceptible before this moment. I feel an unnatural stillness as if the air itself was too scared to move. There is no longer a light breeze to push my hair away from my face. I can longer hear the subtle sounds of the wilderness.
Instead, where there were once dense trees touching the tip of the night sky, there sits a small village alight with torches and electricity in a clearing. There was no way I could have missed this during my walk and with this much light, this place would even be visible from my village. My instincts scream at me to flee as fast as my legs can carry me but my body still refuses to heed my orders. My body at last stops, but instead of retreating to safety, I remain frozen. Some unseen force grips me like a vise. My insides are frozen from the terror that leaches into my bloodstream like a steady spreading poison. My eyes see the truth, but my mind refuses to comprehend. No. This…this can’t…it isn’t…no. I don’t understand.
I shake myself free before I delve any further into that nightmare. I count my breaths, steadying my breathing while I dust the dirt and forest debris off my clothes. I steer my thoughts towards a more practical subject—survival. As long as I repeat my mantra, I’ll be fine. The most important thing right now is finding food. The berries yesterday set me back, but I’ll try again. It’s been three days since I escaped and I haven’t had nearly enough food. I need to find a human village. I need a bow to hunt. I need food and water. I need to keep moving. Shakily, I rise to my feet and stumble forward. Looking to the sky, I see that it’s only early morning. Thankfully I didn’t sleep too long; I can’t afford to waste the day.
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