Chronicles of Fen- Cernuin

by Y W Lumaris

  THE CHRONICLES OF FEN

  Book One

  CERNUIN

  Y.W. Lumaris

  Copyright © 2019 YW Lumaris

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  Cover art and design:

  Anndr Kusuriuri

  www.facebook.com/anndr.art

  * * *

  Editor:

  Sarah Grace Liu

  www.threefatesediting.com

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  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to people, places, events, or things are entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to Delyth Thomas

  Among my best, closest friends

  Without whom Fen would not be Fen

  Thank you for being awesome, amazing, and inspiring!

  Contents

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  “Down!”

  The troops knelt in unison. The speaker’s amber eyes darted from beneath a sweat-dripped brow.

  “Hawk, Rox, Harli!” he barked the names. “Six units south!” He gestured as the named men rose and twisted, firing into the smog. Hefting up his rifle, Ladon fell into stance and fired ahead, the shot burying deep into the skull of an Accursed.

  The wiry, twisted form – ten feet tall, with gray skin and vacant beady eyes – could pass for a skeletal giant in the distance. Up close, it was ghoulish, haunting.

  Yet these weren’t real. General Ladon had seen the real things – they were far faster, far stronger, and their sizes varied so much that there were almost no homogeneous traits except for the gray skin, vacant eyes, and the fate they dropped upon any unfortunate to fall into their grasp.

  “General!” a voice screamed. Jerking away, Ladon looked and fired, clearing his men’s heads and striking an Accursed that had managed to breach their formation.

  The twisted creature squealed in agony and collapsed in a pool of blue blood. Ladon’s men scrambled away from it, firing into the mass until it stopped moving.

  “Move out!” Ladon yelled once they recovered. They spent the next half hour advancing, stopping to shoot, and advancing again. The goal was for each company to reach the fort in the center of the valley.

  This was routine now. Ladon didn’t like how easy it had become.

  Soon, Ladon’s troop reached the fort, his men picking up the pace to a jog. The rusty gates stood open to receive the soldiers. Slowing down, General Ladon hung in the back at the doors to survey the rest of the small army in training. His chosen captains had arrived, with one of their troops lagging behind. Ladon checked his ammo and considered joining to help the men reach – then shook his head.

  They had done this game a thousand times. Hawk knew what he was doing, and would be there before long.

  Finally, the tall man reached him, a grin breaking his sweat-dappled face, and he lifted his chin in a nod to greet Ladon. He threw his rifle’s belt over his shoulder and slowed down, hollering at his men to march ahead of him.

  “Seems like we do this gig faster and faster each week,” Hawk stated, fumbling his pouches for a pack of smokes. He offered Ladon a stick, but the general shook his head. “Do ya think that mage up there even tries to think of real fuckin’ scum? These guys were relevant five years ago.”

  “They’re still relevant, for what it’s worth. Gets soldiers used to seeing ugly, twisted monsters.”

  Hawk snorted. “Ya, but we’re Aklon’s special forces. Don’t ya think we need like, I dunno, an accurate set of illusions to train against?”

  “I’ve sent several requests to King Norvan, but he’s convinced his court-mage knows what’s best.”

  Ladon could feel the man’s sneer without looking. He wrinkled his nose, partly at the smell of the captain’s smoke.

  “Well,” the captain drawled, “we lose a good chunk each cleansing mission we go out on.”

  Ladon agreed, yet arguing was futile. The king’s letter was burned in his memory. The death toll wasn’t “significant enough” to warrant any new funds to send mages out to build new illusion constructs. So they went with whatever his court-mage could engineer.

  “We do,” he said, watching as the last few soldiers jogged past. They turned to walk through the gates, which creaked as they began to close. “But this is the end of the training for our unit. No more skirmishes. I received a notice from the king.” At Hawk’s look, he flashed a crooked smile. “We’re finally moving forward.”

  Inside the massive courtyard, some thousand men laughed and found their friends and put away their weapons. Beyond them was a large interior building. Barracks and a cafeteria, an inner courtyard included. It was a resting place between here and the main military grounds.

  A rattly voice pierced overhead through rusted speakers. “Attention Army of Aklon,” it announced, “you have passed every exercise in the book. Please await new orders.” As the speakers repeated themselves several times, Ladon made his way to the front, exchanging grins and nods, until reaching the stage placed nearest the large interior building.

  It was a small stage, but tall enough for those in the back to see. An old man stood at the microphone.

  “Settle down, soldiers!” he bellowed. The sound screeched, inducing winces throughout the ranks. “General Ladon, up here.” Ladon trotted up the stairs and paused at the platform, eyeing the microphone uneasily. The din of battle still clamored in his ears, and he struggled to force his brain on track with what was going on. “Give them the news.”

  Ladon barely caught the paper in time, the material crinkling in his fist. He nodded and waited for the speaker to step aside. The speaker turned and made a motion behind him while Ladon tapped the microphone. Wincing at the loud noise, he laughed nervously. The sound of his own voice emitting from the speakers jarred him.

  Ignore it. He unrolled the paper and cleared his throat, scanning it first as pride filled him. Finally. “Men, women – ten years ago you joined this force as young recruits. Ten years ago, you – and myself – had no idea how to fight against the swarms living on Aklon’s doorstep. The Accursed who killed our people for the past thirty years will soon receive a painful awakening. You are part of the strongest arm of Aklon’s military.” He paused, looking over the data, and grinned. “After ten years, we are now being assigned the very mission we’ve been training for: to seek out and end the Accursed for good.”

  The crowd bellowed in cheers, fists raising and unloaded guns rattling.

  “This is cause for celebration! The court-mage and King Norvan recognize this army under my command as the leader in fighting to protect our people and their future. It—”

  “Excuse me.”

  Ladon realized the soldiers had silenced and were staring and murmuring, a couple gesturing discreetly at someone standing behind the general. Ladon turned and stepped back. Pastel-pink hair hung around a soft androgynous face, sharp hazel eyes scanning him bri
efly before moving on to survey the crowd. The slender male was thinner than most men, wearing fitted blue robes with black leggings and sleeves beneath. Purple trimmed the sections of folds, giving the attire a strange out-of-place look among the red metal armor pieces donning the soldiers, including Ladon himself.

  “I am Court-Mage Fen.” The man paused when murmurs flurried between people. He hissed into the microphone. “This may be our first meeting, but you will behave like adults, soldiers. I am the one who designed all of your exercises. I have sent out the illusion stones to create your games, your tests, your routines. And after ten years, the wait is finally over.”

  He paused, eyes only on the soldiers below, never once looking at Ladon – even when addressing him.

  “General Ladon was selected for his excellence in the Military Academy, proving with words and experience his ability to manage a battlefield. I appointed him, despite what rumors may be – I am your guide. This will not be easy.”

  Ladon steeled himself, washing away emotions as he felt eyes darting to him. This is a first. Court-Mages have

  always served generals. It’s never been the other way around. King Norvan gave no indication of this.

  “This will not be easy. Nothing in war is easy. But I am confident in the upcoming mission. We will save this world.”

  Soldiers fell silent. Ladon tightened his lips and hardened his gaze.

  Fen the outlaw, now our leader. This is outrageous. Wrong. Sick.

  Fen managed a smile that made Ladon burn. “Worry not, soldiers of Aklon. You fight for more than a king, a city, a banner. It is through you, your skill, and all that you have accomplished, that the world may wake to a day without a single Accursed alive. I look forward to heading out with you in three days, when we begin working together formally.”

  He paused, eyes widening as if a thought had occurred, and quickly raised his hand. “For Aklon!”

  Weak responses echoed, if only out of respect. Fen narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. He turned away from the microphone and stepped closer to Ladon. “General, I need to see you after dinner.”

  Ladon gave a curt nod before the lithe young man turned on his heel and stalked off.

  Dinner in the mess hall gave Ladon a headache. He sat with his captains, discussing the recent announcement.

  “Court-mages have never held authority like this,” Captain Hawk growled through a mouthful of bread. Ladon sat, leaning back with an elbow on the armrest of his chair and a mug of hot cider in his hand. “It’s an insult!”

  “The worst part is the king never mentioned this,” Captain Rox added, topping off her own mug of cider. Her dark hair was short and combed to the side, leaving in view the scars along her neck from an old wound in battle. “I’m disgusted that, of all mages, it had to be Fen.”

  The name silenced them all. Everyone, even the distracted soldiers beyond them, shared the same thought, wondered the same thing.

  “General, he’s the one, isn’t he? Thirty years ago...”

  Ladon’s eyes flicked to her and he gave a nod. “Yes. He’s the one.”

  The third and fourth captains gasped, shaking their heads. “Rumor’s true bout him, then, innit?” the female said. Harli, Ladon recalled. She was relatively new, but her experiences warranted the captain’s title.

  “That he found a way into the Between, made the gods mortal?” the other reprimanded. “Of course it’s true.”

  “Well I’m just asking the general – he was a scholar or something, wasn’t he?”

  General Ladon grimaced, the other apologizing quickly. He set his cider down and raised a hand, shaking his head. “It’s all right. I am still a scholar – when I can be.” He stared at the table for a moment. Scholar. He’d not held the title in so long, since being promoted to general ten years prior. “Court-Mage Fen did find a way to the Between. And whatever he did while there, he caused the Fall. Turned the gods mortal. Caused the beginning of the end of the world. He’d admitted it formally before the King of Haven. Then he was sentenced to death. And that should have been that.” Ladon scratched the stubble along his jawline as he recalled the documents.

  “But then our king’s father, King Nedeil, bartered for Fen’s life. I suppose Fen thought he could undo it all. Which explains why he coordinated our unit. Worked with the founding of it. I never knew it was Fen, just that it was one of Norvan’s court-mages.”

  “Explains why our exercises are gods-awful,” Hawk drawled.

  “And outdated,” Rox added, earning a grin from Hawk.

  “I don’t think the buffoon’s ever left the Tower.”

  Rox agreed in spirit, others following suit. Soon the captains were exchanging crude jokes about the court-mage and his incompetence. Ladon snorted and shook his head, running a hand through his short hair.

  “Nah, men. Women,” he added for Rox and Harli. “I know ya don’t like him. I hate the idea. Court-Mage Fen, of all mages, to be above us. But the king has faith in him. There must be a good reason behind it. Perhaps Fen knows something none do.” Doubtful, but Ladon was grasping at straws to make sense of it all.

  The captains fell into an uneasy pause.

  “He ruined the world, General,” Rox said slowly.

  “How can we trust him?” Harli added with a huff.

  He took a moment to respond to the captains. “During Fen’s trial, he pleaded guilty, but that it was an accident. He didn’t intend for this consequence. Perhaps, if he was able to find the Between and turn them mortal, he could find the way to end the Accursed for good.”

  Hawk rubbed his brow and grabbed another bottle of ale. “Whatever. I wanna get drunk and sleep solid. Rox, wanna fuck tonight?”

  Rox shrugged, taking a swig of her own liquor. “Why not. Probably the last good chance for a while.”

  Their relationship was casual, and Ladon didn’t know when it had begun. But he knew neither cared to commit to the other, and he’d seen Hawk flirt with other female recruits enough to know his thoughts without asking. He didn’t judge though, preferring to keep from ties himself. This wasn’t the line of work to find a long-term relationship – brotherhood was far better.

  Looking at the time, Ladon downed the rest of his drink and left the mug on the table. Standing abruptly, he nodded to his subordinates and excused himself. Stomach in knots, the general made his way out of the mess hall, in search for a staff member to guide him to Fen’s quarters.

  He hovered in the hallway until a young man ran up to him. Dressed in simple gray clothes, the boy was dirty and thin. The wristband brandished the Aklon sigil. A new recruit.

  “Right here, sir!” The boy knocked on the door and stepped away for Ladon to enter. He pushed the door open.

  “What? Who is it!” Fen’s voice started.

  Ladon jumped and pulled the door as a shield against a flailing bowl. It clattered against the door, and he poked his head inside. Fen, standing now, tensed. Then he relaxed.

  “Well.” He brushed his hair back and sniffed, recomposing himself. “Apologies. I’m used to being the one to answer the door, not...” He shook his head and beckoned Ladon inside as he gathered disheveled papers along the desk. Lamps flickered. “Sit – stand – whatever is your preference.” He coughed and turned around. Ladon noticed a spider on his shoulder he hadn’t seen before. The pink-haired man seemed oblivious.

  “I’ll stand.”

  The man stared at him for a moment before holding out his hand. Ladon noticed black clawlike nails. His throat tightened, and he couldn’t help but to glance at the man’s feet.

  Claws in place of toes. Wraps hid the rest.

  “General Ladon.” Fen cleared his throat, voice hardening. Ladon’s eyes snapped back up and held his gaze, before reluctantly accepting the gesture. The cold skin seemed harmless, frail in Ladon’s larger hand, but the claws grazed his skin, reminded him of the lore about this man. The

  reason he was over half a century old, yet looked as young as he did.

 
“Court-Mage Fen,” he managed, releasing the terse handshake. “King Norvan made you my superior, then?”

  Right to the point. No games.

  Fen chuckled a little, turning away and moving aside his robe to sit in one of the creaking chairs. He leaned on his elbow, fingers tapping a medallion hanging from his neck. Ladon could tell it looked old and worn, the brass dull and unremarkable. He didn’t care to study it any further, having a hard enough time trying not to stare at the damned clawed feet.

  “How much do you know about me, General Ladon?”

  Ladon snapped out of his thoughts, not realizing he was clenching his jaw.

  “Only what was chronicled in the college.”

  “Few read all the way through, and fewer yet have the right text on me. I didn’t ruin the gods because I’d planned to,” Fen stated thickly, a shadow over his eyes. Ladon had to admit, in the lighting and position, the man-creature looked imposing. “So before I get longwinded or say something you already know, enlighten me on who I am.”

  “And what you are.” Ladon took the nearest chair and moved it so he could sit. Guess I’ll need this anyway. Fen’s eyes followed him. “You’re a harpy. Age, maybe sixty, maybe a little older – your origin is unknown. Though you were found in the northern lands, lakeside near Haven. You joined the mages’ guild once outed and worked your way into court-mage status. There you broke into the Library of Morsath and stole a tome on the Between.

  “What happened after is unclear. I’ve read many versions, but none were good sources. All ended the same, though. The gods are mortal, and the world has paid for it. King Valen of Haven ordered your death, but instead King Norvan’s father bartered for your life.”