Preternatural (Worlds & Secrets)

by Lloyd Harry-Davis

  Worlds & Secrets

  - Preternatural -

  Book I

  By Lloyd Harry-Davis

  For Dad,

  “Our birth is nothing but our death begun.”

  – Edward Young; Night Thoughts.

  Copyright © 2013 Lloyd Harry-Davis

  All rights reserved.

  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 non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-78280-137-5

  Kindle edition

  First published 2013

  Cover by Spiffing Covers Copyright © 2013

  ACKNOWLDGEMENTS

  The biggest thank you goes to my parents, who motivated me and never ceased to show faith in my writing, and worked with me from the very first day to the end.

  To Michael S., Michelle, Joseph, Nathaniel, Crystal and Ektaa for having to put up with my constant rambling when the ideas bursting from my head were too much for me to keep to myself.

  To the “Hallett-Foquereau”s who have continued to encourage me from the day I met them and constantly shown their support.

  And lastly, to all the people (whether you know yourselves or not) who have inspired some of my characters by having some of the best and strangest personalities I’ve ever encountered.

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  CHAPTER 1.

  CHAPTER 2.

  CHAPTER 4.

  CHAPTER 5.

  CHAPTER 7.

  CHAPTER 8.

  CHAPTER 9.

  CHAPTER 10.

  CHAPTER 11.

  CHAPTER 12.

  CHAPTER 13.

  CHAPTER 14.

  CHAPTER 15.

  THE REVOLUTION

  “He’s killed Franz, Angwen. He’s going to kill me too because I’m protecting them,” Duana spoke, her voice quaking in absolute fear as her violet eyes sparkled with tears. She was secluded with Angwen in one of the many rooms in the Castle. Angwen had a naturally large stature that overpowered Duana’s smaller figure. He was aged and had a similar purple gaze underneath his bushy eyebrows. Looking at him was like being smitten by raw power, delved into a world of mystery where nothing made sense and falling into a chasm to another universe. This man seemed to be the epitome of all knowledge, face undisturbed and unmoved by fear – even with the castle collapsing around them. His face bore calm wisdom along with his paralysing stare, intimidating enough to make any man crawl.

  “Duana, you must stay calm, we must –”

  “Calm?!” she retorted in a ferocious hiss, the sound of tears rolling in her throat. “Angwen, he killed my husband and is going to kill my children once he finds out they are part of the nine Bonds. We have no hope once they’re gone.”

  They were soon interrupted by a loud rumble and the room shook vigorously, causing dust to gently float to the floor from the low ceiling. Duana kept trying to speak but the rumbles were getting much more malicious. Her sad eyes immediately found Angwen’s as she uttered: “the war’s starting.” Panic and anguish settled in but Angwen suddenly held her by the arms, encouraging her to believe that she was safe with him no matter what.

  Duana’s heart raced, her windpipe tightening and her lungs imploding on themselves.

  “Angwen, my children. He’s going for them. They’re all alone upstairs – we have to get to them,” she trembled.

  “I know, my child, I know. Today we leave this monarchy. This decision was made the instant he decided to turn on one of his own.” She nodded gently in agreement, touching the large diamond necklace fastened around her neck; at that particular moment, she would have done anything to draw the bravery and courage she so desperately needed.

  “I’m sure that Trailian has prepared this coup very well and made sure that everyone is after you,” Angwen breathed to her as they prepared to open the door and sprint out of the room. The war raging outside was between the ancient kingdoms of the Adalbheorts, in favour of good, who opposed the Balamirs – the kingdom where evil in all its forms prevailed. Duana and Angwen wanted no part in that life of deception and cruelty anymore. With the next loud vibrating rumble, Angwen swung the then dusty hood of his long black cloak over his head and Duana lifted the front of her elegant black and grey gown, as they broke out of the small closet room into one of the many corridors in the castle, with hallways bathed in sunlight from the right wall’s windows running down the corridor to the antique wooden door at its end.

  The floorboards were a well-polished sleek maroon, complimenting the wooden frames of the classic oil paintings and mirrors that were hung up along the left wall. As Duana and Angwen rushed into the corridor, guards appeared far behind them at the hallway’s entrance and tore across the room chasing them. They sprinted with anger as the pair ran down the corridor, train and cloak rustling behind them.

  Suddenly, a set of large boulders came crashing through the right wall of the hallway, tearing down half the face of the building. Angwen pushed his partner down and they both slid across the floor as another boulder came crashing through, debris and fragments of rocks flying everywhere and barricading the guards from them. Many times Duana stumbled but was helped up by her protector as more malicious boulder attacks were launched against the castle, which had by then a newly-created life-sized hole on its facade.

  Angwen’s eyes went into slits of rage and he shot his right hand out. Mystique wafts of purple-black spectrums of light circled his hands as he pulled out energy from the spirit plane and converted it into deadly dark magic. The instant the set of boulders came a few feet away from the duo, they were repelled by the power circling his hand and sent hurtling back to their senders with tenfold their previous speed and damage.

  “Come on!” Angwen cried through the bombardment of catapults against the building. The dancing bright sunlight was polluted with thick fiery smoke emerging from outside. As Duana struggled to get back on her feet, she then realised that the nightmare was only beginning. Her brilliant purple eyes caught the entire plain, running for acres and acres to go and completely crowded with Adalbheort soldiers – so minuscule they looked like scuttling insects marching for a glorious prize.

  They were tearing through the mystical forest planted of unnaturally large, gargantuan alien trees, which were burning in all angles as the soldiers set them alight with exuberant orange flames from their hands. These hungry-to-kill soldiers brought with them on land every natural catastrophe imaginable, from raging tsunamis to thunderous storms; even the sudden formation of volcanoes that spewed out lava. And their murderous roars meant only one thing to Duana: her imminent death.

  In a rush of adrenaline, the pair found themselves running for their lives up the many flights of stairs; as their attackers closed in on them, Angwen stopped and set up a force-field separating him and Duana from their enemies. The duo found themselves on another floor when they rushed to the room at the end. As they slid inside, they left the double doors ajar. The fraternal twin girls got out of their beds, scared and terrified of the loud noises that echoed in the castle’s damned walls. They looked at least five years old and had long waist-length hair just like their mother’s. Duana dropped to her knees as her daughters walked to her.

  “Girls! I –” she drifted off and realised: “where’s your brother?” At that instant, an approxim
ately three-year-old toddler with his tiny head hidden under bushy, vibrant russet hair, waddled out in his footed pyjamas, rubbing his glowing green eyes with his minuscule hands. He instinctively walked to Angwen and stood in front of him. In less than a second, he was scooped up and held in the man’s arms.

  “Mama, what’s happening?” one of the girls asked.

  “Is it raining?” the other asked, just as innocently. Both of their English accents were shrill and high-pitched like breaking glass. Immediately, the little one in Angwen’s embrace began to sob.

  “Listen,” Duana began, fighting to hold back the tears, “I want you all to go with Uncle Angwen, okay?”

  “But, mama –”

  “There’s no time to explain, Mickey,” she told one of the twins in a hasty but soothing tone. There was another loud reverberation and terrifying quake; the twins looked around frantically.

  “They’re coming…” Duana muttered underneath her breath. The youngest child stretched out his hands towards his mother, who only had time to brush his chubby cheek with a gentle kiss. The quakes grew louder. With the quakes intensifying, the end was close. The soldiers’ footsteps grew louder and closer, thundering the floors. There was no time to waste; they had to act and fast. With a bleeding heart, she backed away and put her children’s fate in Angwen’s hands.

  “Go, NOW!” she rushed them, herding them away.

  “I will be back for you,” he said to her in a fatherly tone. Duana didn’t know how to react. She was staring at Angwen weakly with her lips quavering and tears beginning to leak from her eyes.

  “Listen to me carefully, Duana, because this is the most important thing you need to know – they have captured a Bond –” Duana rushed her hands to her mouth in horror, almost on the verge of screeching when Angwen cut her again.

  “He’s in the dungeon! You must set him free –” The approaching footsteps forced him to end his sentence.

  “Come, little ones!” he said, grabbing the twins. With a look of promise, he turned one last time to look at the woman he was about to leave alone in that environment, where the only escape was surely death, before disappearing with all three children in a simple puff of light smoke. Alone in the room, with no means of escape, Duana stared at the entire platoon of Balamir guards blocking the widely-opened double doors, ready to attack her with their fists emitting evil black-purple fire that wove around their hands. The rumbling of the collapsing castle progressed as boulders continued to be launched from the catapults outside. All these men, for the capture of one woman. But she was ready, closing her eyes to receive the blow of mercy to the satisfaction of her pursuers that rounded her. But the sky darkened as though it were night; no one understood the sudden change, not even the guards, who were ready to inflict a blazing inferno on Duana from which she could never survive. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, irises looking as if they were bordered with what seemed to be glowing crescent moons.

  Outside, in the darkening sky, the actual moon was pulled out of oblivion and shone with an eerie river of light. Through the work of something dark and incomprehensible, the group sent to capture Duana started to be pulled out of the windows and walls violently, with nothing but a simple looming black fog. Their horrific, desperate screams and yells hung in the air and trailed after them. Before long, all the warriors had been snatched and murdered by the night, which had literally turned alive.

  Duana returned to her normal state and hid the monster that had briefly surfaced. She had held off a few guards, but how long would it be before another battalion came rushing upstairs with even deadlier powers than the previous? How long would this nightmare last? Her mind wondered from her body as she thought of all the different possibilities; maybe she should just allow them to capture her and do whatever they wanted. What else was there to sacrifice when she had to say that heart-shrouding goodbye to her innocent children as they quivered with fear? What else was there to lose, she thought?

  Another loud rumble sent a horrible jolt and vibration through the castle, even though it sounded from the other side of the building. Just like in a horrible game of hide and seek, Duana was trying desperately to make it out of her hiding place, but the blood-thirsty soldiers wouldn’t give up as more headed to her direction, trying to fulfil their agenda – which was, by all means, killing her.

  It was a matter time before they broke into the room she found herself in. She started to have mixed feelings; she did not want to die if there was the slightest chance that her children were alive somewhere. The time came when she had to defend herself; and she would use her best weapon, her powers.

  She opened her hands surreptitiously and watched as vicious black-purple flames curled into existence, emitted from her veins. Duana wrapped her hands around each other as the flames’ tips rustled into the air and danced wildly. She shot her hand out to both door handles and watched as a streak of black flames melted the locks and handles, infusing into one another. Panic-stricken, Duana looked around frantically, searching for an exit to escape her death. The glow of the very early alien sun reflected on her perfect face, framed with her exotic black hair and highly outlined by her lavender eyes and inhuman canines that were almost as long as fangs. But upon all her torment in that moment of fear and desperation, Duana remembered one of her more useful powers. She turned to face the windows, streaming with sunlight. Her eyes intensified and her voice dropped to a cold, echoing harsh whisper as she waved her palm horizontally in front of herself and spoke: “I summon a Roamer.”

  Suddenly – and quite viciously – a large dent broke in the air, as if there had been a wall for it to break into. From it, stepped a transparent-skinned, ice-blue-eyed, black-haired spirit.

  “You called, my Necromancer Mistress?” Duana panted and immediately walked to her servant, grabbing his arms almost immediately as the doors began to break down in splinters.

  “Take me to the dungeon,” she breathed to him. The young un-dead servant’s eyes lightened to a foggy white and he and Duana dispersed into wafts of smoke as the guards finally broke in. Lucky escape, because that room was immediately deteriorated and reduced to rubble by a set of murderous boulders. In an outbreak of mist, Duana appeared in the dungeon with her servant.

  “Thank you, you may depart,” she commanded, panting in fear and looking around fretfully, lifting the skirts and frills of her dress. Her transparent-skinned servant elegantly bowed and dissolved into thin air. The dungeon was a very large place that strongly resembled more of a large sewer pipeline than it did a room. The only sources of light in that room emanated from the hung torches in brackets on the stone walls, lit with blue and red flames and more strangely from the three large cocoons that glowed a strong white light as they floated metres away from the ground. They

  Duana had appeared at the far end of the room on a large uneven rock but hardly far from levelled ground. Suddenly, she heard a groan – a desperate groan of pain. She looked behind her and recoiled in surprise. Suspended a few inches from the ground with his arms outstretched and bound in chains connected to two pillars, was a man. His long, shoulder-length, crimson red hair was disorientated and drenched in sweat as it draped over his face. His uncovered muscular torso was dirty and beading with sweat or water; Duana was not sure, but it only made his skin look more pale and sallow than it already was.

  “You’re – you’re the Bond they captured. One of the nine…” Duana said to herself in a hushed tone of surprise. The man’s head fell backwards as his body stayed suspended. He languidly rolled his head around his neck to look at Duana. He kept taking long hard blinks and each time he reopened his bright amber-red eyes, he kept them widely open in a manner of awareness. This made him look dazed and drunk, or as if he had just woken up – but those were not the cases. He had in fact been drugged with some sort of concoction designed to weaken him. Without warning, he breathed out a heap of glowing orange fire that Duana reflexively evaded. For once, his eyes went into malicious slits of fury, angry that his a
ttempt to kill Duana was unsuccessful. Upon the end of the blazing inferno that regurgitated itself out of the man’s mouth, his head immediately drooped.

  “What do you want from me?” he croaked, rolling his head around and taking his wide-eyed blinks, “just kill me now,” he continued. Duana breathed heavily as a set of multiple rumbles sounded upstairs, followed by rancorous yells – the Adalbheort soldiers had broken in. Duana hadn’t much time left.

  “I’m here to set you free, not to kill you –”

  “Why?” he groaned, interrupting the woman in his broken voice.

  “Why? Because you’re one of the Bonds! If any of you die, all hope for all realms is doomed!” she retorted. But for the second time, the man showed emotion; his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perplexity.

  “Bond? I’m not a Bond…” he said calmly, but confused.

  “What?” Duana spat, feeling an anger growing inside her when she thought about how she risked her life to go and save someone that wasn’t even a Bond.

  “I was protecting my three children, it’s them. They are the bonds – my five-year-old girl and my three-year-old twin boys…” he groaned, his head still rolling around his neck. Duana looked even more puzzled and frightened.

  “They’re the only set at the moment I think –” the man breathed slowly, seeming to be having difficulty keeping his balance.

  “No, you’re wrong,” Duana swiftly interrupted. The man looked up at her with a look of insanity. “My children are the second set – I had to separate them so that Trailian wouldn’t find them. And those –” Duana flung a hand back and pointed at the three, large, glowing white cocoons on the other side of the cavernous dungeon, “– those are the third set! If Trailian finds out that the missing link is your children instead of you, he’ll find them all – all bonds – and kill them!” she said, startled as she began realising the abysmal truth.

  She plucked up some courage and lit both her hands with blazing purple flames. She aimed at both poles where the chains holding the man were connected and let out violent shots of flames from each hand and the man came plummeting to the ground. She quickly lifted him up by his arms.