by Matt Taylor
The Vault of Kings
A Light in the Darkness
Matt Taylor
Copyright © 2019 Matt Taylor Books
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-70-592887-5
Illustrated By: Blake Davis
www.blakedart.com
Dedication
To my family and friends, for always believing in me.
CONTENTS
1
Desperate Times
1
2
The Ancient Crypt
18
3
The Council
36
4
The Second Mind
53
5
Lessons of Light
81
6
A Warning to Shilvrst
107
7
Dark Visions
126
8
Confrontations
152
9
Sky
175
10
11
12
13
Gelendor
Enchantments
Army of the Dead
Sindmyr
205
235
264
295
Chapter 1
Desperate Times
What do you mean, potatoes are only five copper a sack?” Thren exclaimed. “Last year, it was fifteen a sack!”
“I’m sorry, Thren, that’s the best that I can do. You’re not the only one that’s struggling, you know.” The merchant Brandt replied.
Brandt was a tall, heavyset man with a thick black beard and deep brown eyes. He wore a pair of brown overalls and a long sleeve tan button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to the forearm.
“I need to make a living too, and I doubt that I’ll be able to even make very much myself this year, even with only offering five a sack.”
Thren frowned. “I don’t know if I’m going to have enough to make it through this winter if we don’t get more… please, you have to make an exception!”
“I’m sorry, it’s really the best that I can do.”
“Fine, I guess I’ll take what I can get,” Thren growled under his breath.
“I truly am sorry,” Brandt said as he counted out the copper pieces. “One hundred and three sacks, is that correct?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Thren said with a sigh. “We lost a lot of crops this year due to the increase in water taxes.”
Brandt finished counting out the copper coins and slid them across the wooden table.
“Five hundred and fifteen is our total then- five gold pieces and fifteen copper. Is that alright?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Thren said, scooping the coins off the table. The coins struck one another with a jingling sound as he placed them inside his pouch. A ‘thank you’ was all that he was able to mutter, wondering how he was going to break the bad news to his family. Brandt walked around to the other side of the table and put a hand on Thren’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, my friend. I wish that there was more that I could do, I really do. Maybe if I can get some good bargains when I’m in TrindJhim, I can come back and give you a bit more-”
“No!” Thren cut him off. “No, it’s okay…” he said, more softly this time. “You need to take care of your family too. I appreciate the offer, but we’ll be okay. We’ll figure something out.”
Brandt gave Thren a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck, my friend,” he said and returned to the other side of the table.
Thren turned around and left the tent that he and Brandt had been standing in. Arriving at a pile of goods that had already been traded, he unloaded the sacks of potatoes from his cart with a sigh. Leaving the market square, he passed several other people that were in line ready to sell what little produce they had been able to scrounge up this year in hopes to bring in enough money to provide for their families.
What am I going to tell Iriana? Thren thought to himself as he was pulling his cart home. How are we going to survive this winter when all I have is five gold and fifteen copper? He kicked a pebble out of the way in frustration. Curse you, Maelos… Curse you!
Sylas was sitting on an upside-down barrel just outside the front door of his family’s house. Wood shavings fell gently to the ground as he whittled away at a stick with his knife. He was trying to carve an owl for his younger sister, but so far it looked more like a beaver or a mole than an owl. Sylas had just turned fourteen, and although he knew there wasn’t a very good chance of him getting any gifts this year, due to his family’s low yield of crops, he didn’t mind. He wanted to do whatever he could to help his family, and if that meant no gifts, that was fine with him. He heard footsteps and looked up to see his father walking towards him.
“Hey, Dad, how was the merchant’s?”
Looking at his son, all Thren was able to mutter was “Hey, bud” and gave Sylas a quick smile.
Sylas dropped his knife and owl that he had been carving and opened the door for his father. Their house used to be a big, fancy home before Maelos had taken over, but over the years, its beauty had dwindled, and several parts of the house became unused in the wintertime as they couldn’t afford to heat the entire thing. His father used to be a captain of the royal army, and a swordsman. He didn’t know much about Magick but was an exceptional fighter. After Maelos had taken over, though, it had reduced almost everyone in the town to simple farmers, including him.
“Hey, Mom, Dad’s home,” Sylas called out.
His Mother, Iriana, responded as she descended the stairs. She was a short, skinny woman with almost white blonde hair and light blue eyes. She always had a kind smile on her face, even if she wasn’t happy.
“Hey Thren, how was it?” she asked hopefully.
Thren looked at her and then at Sylas before responding. “Hey, Sylas, can you go find your sister and play with her outside for just a little bit? There are some things that I need to discuss with your mom.”
Sylas began to worry but tried to keep his expression neutral as he responded. “Yeah, I can do that. Mom, where’s Arelia?”
“I’m right here!” Arelia said, skipping up behind Sylas.
Arelia was 10 years old and looked very much like Iriana- she had the same blue eyes and the same almost white-blonde hair. Even her personality was similar, she always seemed to be happy, even when days like this came around.
“Alright, Arelia, let’s go outside. Come on, I’ll show you the owl I’ve been carving.”
“Yay!” she said, skipping her way to the door. After they were outside, Sylas picked up his owl from the ground and gave it to Arelia.
“This doesn’t look like an owl…” She said with a twisted look on her face.
Sylas ignored the insult as he put away his knife. “Hey, stay here for just a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“You were supposed to play with me!” she complained.
“I will just give me a second,” he shot back. “I just have to see something really quick, then I’ll play with you.”
Ariela gave him a doubtful look as he ran to the other side of the house and pressed his ear against the outside wall of his parent’s room. He had done this many times before; his parents always talked about private matters in their room.
“I can’t believe he only offered you five copper per sack… how does he expect us to be able to survive this winter with so little?”
“I know, but he has to make a living too, you know…” His father responded in a still troubled voice.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do, Thren. That’s only a third of what we were offered last year, and we had twice as much crop then too!”
“Sylas! You said you would play with me!” Arelia said, stomping around the corner.
“Okay okay, we can play now,” he said, all the while trying to think of something, anything that he could do to help his family.
That night, Sylas couldn’t sleep. He kept on thinking of the events that had happened just over ten years ago. He was only four at the time, but he still remembered parts of it very vividly. Maelos, ‘The Dark Mage’ as others called him, had obtained an army and overthrown the capital of Evendreil, Azrindal and after defeating most of the major cities in between, he eventually came into Sylas’s town of Shilvrst. His father and the armies of the king of Shilvrst tried to stop Maelos, but his power was overwhelming. He had mastered the use of an ancient power called Magick, and with it, controlled the element of Darkness to bring the town of Shilvrst to its knees.
Sylas shivered in bed as he remembered the vivid memory of actually seeing him in the flesh. He had been on the top floor of one of the town buildings when it all happened. He couldn’t remember why he was there but remembered his Mother telling him to get away from the window, and not to look. He wished he had listened… The image of Maelos wearing black robes with a long hood that covered his head still haunted him at times. Although the hood made it difficult to see his face, Sylas remembered being able to see dark glowing eyes emanating from within his hood. His hands glowing the same eerie black and purple color as he used the elemental Magick of Darkness to wreak havoc over the town. It sent another tingle up his spine just thinking about it. After Maelos had killed the king and forced the armies of Shilvrst to surrender, he declared himself as the supreme ruler over all of Evendreil and placed a hefty tax over the people. He placed guards around all the major cities he had conquered so that no one could enter or leave without permission.
Sylas turned over in his bed as he tried to shake the memory from his mind. Forcing himself to change the subject, he thought about his most recent problems. I need to do something to help my family survive the winter… but what? He pondered the question for a moment longer, then the thought of the old crypt just outside of the town slithered into his mind.
He and his friends had already been there once before, it took some thinking and a cunning plan to distract the guards, but ultimately they weren’t caught. He remembered that it contained a lot of ancient artifacts that had been lost or forgotten and wondered if there might be anything of value down there that he could try and sell to one of the traveling merchants that were in town. Liking the idea, he decided that in the morning, he was going to talk to his friends about leaving the town and searching the crypt again to try and find something to sell. I’m sure that if we do find something of value, their families could use a little extra money too, he thought, and with that, he again tried to fall asleep without thinking of the soul penetrating image of Maelos.
He awoke the next morning a bit tired but determined. After completing his morning chores and eating one of the eggs that he had gathered from their chickens, Sylas asked his Mother if he could go out, and assured her that he would be home in time for dinner. She agreed but didn’t really seem to hear him. He could tell that the financial trouble that they were in weighed heavily on her mind.
I’ll find something that will help us through the hard times’ Mother, I promise. He thought to himself, and with that, he left his home and headed towards his best friend Torren’s house.
He, Torren, and Samara had gone to the Ancient Crypt before. It had been Torren’s idea. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he remembered Torren saying. “They catch us and tell us to go home?”
He also remembered Samara telling them that being told to go home was definitely not the worst thing that could happen, as she had heard stories of some kids who were caught trying to leave the town without permission, and they had been flogged several times.
We’ll make sure to be careful... Sylas thought to himself as his train of thought was broken by a familiar voice.
“Sylas! What’s going on, brother?” Torren said, walking towards him.
“Hey, Torren! How are you?”
Torren was a tall boy with long brown hair. He was muscular, athletic, and a ladies’ man. Sylas had always been somewhat jealous of him because all of the girls that he liked only paid attention to Torren.
His father had been in the king’s guard as well and had become good friends with Thren. The friendship passed down from fathers to sons, and Torren and Sylas found themselves doing almost everything together.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” Torren said, running a hand through his long hair. “Brandt ripped my father off at the trade yesterday, and now we’re worried about having enough money to get through this winter.”
“Yeah,” Sylas replied, “the same thing happened to my family too… That’s why I wanted to come and see you. I have an idea about how we can make some more money for our families, to help them out.”
Torren raised an eyebrow. “Ohh yeah? And what is this master plan? I hope it’s better than the plan you had that one time to spy on old man Uthren.”
Sylas punched Torren in the arm.
“Hey, something is going on with that guy! I don’t think he’s just an old man like you say he is. Plus, how was I supposed to know that Samara would see that snake in the garden just as we were about to get into prime spying position?”
Torren rubbed his arm and laughed.
“Hey take it easy, I’m only joking. All I’m saying is that you may need me to look over your master plan and fine-tune it, or it might end in us having to repair a fence all summer long again. So, what’s the plan?”
“We need to find Samara first, then I’ll tell you,” Sylas replied. “We have to keep it super secret, so I want to wait until we’re all together first.”
Torren gave Sylas a wry smile, “No, you just want to wait because you like Samara…”
Sylas punched him in the arm again, this time harder. “Shut up, no I don’t!”
Torren grinned and cocked a taunting eyebrow, “Yeah okay, sure thing buddy… we can wait until we find Samara to, you know, just keep it more secret then.” He finished his sentence with a wink, rubbing in the sarcasm that was already dripping from his words. Sylas wanted to hit him again but decided against it. Torren was a lot bigger than he was and didn’t want to chance getting slugged back.
“Let’s just go look for her,” Sylas said, starting off in the direction of her house.
Torren gave a slight chuckle, put his hands in his pockets, and whistled a tune as he followed Sylas.
Samara cleared her mind again and took in a deep breath. “This time… this time for sure!” She said, looking at the illustration in her book one last time.
“Thumbs together, palms facing away from your body, index fingers together making a heart shape. Got it, now the rest of the fingers together at a diagonal, making a diamond shape at the top.”
She closed her eyes and cleared her mind again, then reached deep, deeper than she had ever done before. She could feel something this time- a pool of energy deep within her core. Remembering the text of the book, she concentrated on bringing that pool of energy up into her arms. It tingled slightly as it rose from the middle of her stomach, through her arms and into her hands. A soft golden light met her gaze as she opened her eyes.
“I did it…” she said out loud, a smile forming on her face. The heart and diamond shapes that she made with her fingers glowed with a golden misty energy filling in where the air once was, the rest of her hands emanating a bright yellow aura. Ecstatic at her newfound success, she quickly looked at the book again to see what the next step was.
“Heya Samara!” a voice yelled out from behind her. Startled, Samara screamed and jumped forward, breaking the symbol she had made with
her hands. The yellow light faded into the air as the tingling sensation went away. Spinning around to see the culprit of distraction, her eyes met Torren and Sylas standing behind her.
“You idiot, Torren!” she yelled. “I was doing it! I had it that time!”
She stomped over to Torren, fists raised high ready to smack him. Torren quickly put up his hands in defense and took a few steps backward.
“Woah woah, hey now, I didn’t do anything. What do you mean you were doing it, what were you even doing? It looked like you were just standing there.”
She ignored his questions and took several swings at him, which Torren easily parried aside. It was times like this that Torren was grateful that he had trained with his father in hand to hand combat ever since he was a little kid.
“Stop blocking me!” Samara angrily growled. “You broke my concentration. I finally conjured some Light Magick, then you ruined it!” She swung once more, aiming for his face, but Torren easily caught her hand in his.
“Wait, what?” he asked. “You mean to tell me you actually saw Light energy in your hands?”
“Yes!” she spat back at him. “And I was about to see if I could use it on that beetle over there.”
She pointed towards a book that sat on a table where she had been standing. A beetle that looked to have been accidentally stepped on laid on its back, moving its legs back and forth slowly as if trying to run away.
“I was going to heal him!” She exclaimed.
