The Cradle of the Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1)

by Thomas Quinn Miller

  Ghile thought about what secrets Riff might be keeping. “Even the Sorcerer of Lakeside?” Ghile asked.

  Master Almoriz wrinkled up his face, engulfing his mouth in whiskers. “There are unfortunately some who would rather grow fat and actually become what the dwarves think us to be,” Master Almoriz said.

  “Those still loyal to our beliefs actively watch the stars and seek the Soulstones of Haurtu.” Master Almoriz motioned at the statue. “Those stones in his chest. Much like the one you now have.”

  “Two,” Ghile corrected.

  “What?” Master Almoriz asked, his eyebrows coming to life and racing up his forehead.

  Ghile took a deep breath and went on to explain about the encounter on the Horn. Ghile found once he got started he couldn't stop. Everything that had happened to him came pouring out. He spoke of Adon and his dream teachings. How Muk was now there and wished to teach him as well. He even told Master Almoriz about the strange girl who had appeared and spoke of the City of the Fallen.

  Master Almoriz listened patiently and only interrupted to clarify a point or to add a, “go on”, or an, “I see”.

  When Ghile finished he realized his cheeks were wet with tears. He did not know when he had started crying. He hastily wiped them away.

  “Our people have lost so much knowledge, Ghile,” Master Almoriz said.

  “I have never heard any stories about a type of limbo for those who died during the Great Purge and those who have been culled since, but that could explain why there are so few of us since then. Disturbing news if it is true.”

  “Do you think it is really Adon, Master Almoriz?”

  “I honestly do not know. Mother Brambles told me she taught you our histories as we know them. You will be taught more with each soulstone you acquire. With each soulstone, the more your strength and knowledge will grow. How this knowledge is shared with you, the histories do not say. But, when it comes to the gods, I would not rule any possibility out.”

  Ghile hoped it was really Adon. The idea that because of him his brother was able to escape from that limbo and reside in his dreams was comforting.

  “But understand this, Ghile, Haurtu's way is the strongest survive and the weak perish. It is through the stonechosen that Haurtu may return. You will be tested. The stones call to each other. Only one of the stonechosen will become the key that releases Haurtu. You will need to be strong to survive the trials to come,” Master Almoriz said.

  “The barbarians of the Nordlah Plains have great contests of skill and combat to determine who among them is fit to seek the soulstones. It is a great honor among their people. It is why they resist the dwarven yoke and openly war with them.”

  Ghile wondered what Two Elks thought of him. What a waste he must seem to the barbarian. Ghile realized something else then. “All those times you sent Riff into these ruins. You wanted him to find a soulstone.”

  Master Almoriz nodded.

  “He can have it!” Ghile quickly said. “I never asked for any of this. Can you not use your powers and take it from me?”

  Master Almoriz sighed. “Once you are stonechosen there is no turning back, Ghile. I am sorry this happened to you, lad, I surely am. The stars were finally right for the return of the soulstones and I hoped one might appear somewhere in this ancient temple.”

  “Your choices are few, I'm afraid. Become the key to Haurtu's release or have your soulstone taken from you as you lie on the brink of death by another stonechosen.”

  Ghile didn't care for either of those two choices. “What if I die before either of those things happen?” Ghile said.

  “The soulstones will prevent that from happening. Have you not noticed your body now heals itself of even the gravest of wounds?” Master Almoriz said.

  Ghile touched his ankle where the worg had savaged him. He remembered feeling the beast's fangs scrape against his bone.

  Only two days had passed since then and all that remained was some stiffness. He thought of the flash of light when the culler had struck him and the same light when he had struck Muk with a force stone. He asked as much and Master Almoriz nodded vigorously.

  “Those wounds were death blows. The soulstones protect you even from those fatal wounds. But, even the soulstones have their limits. The stonechosen are at their weakest then as both they and the soulstones must recover. That is the only time one stonechosen can draw a soulstone from another,” Master Almoriz said.

  As Master Almoriz talked, Ghile thought back to the two times he had taken on a soulstone. The pain of the stone crawling, almost bug-like, just under his flesh and then burning itself into his chest. Bile began to seep into his throat. He slid his tongue across his teeth, swallowing thickly.

  “Do not think this makes you immortal, Ghile Stonechosen. If you do not eat or drink, you will waste away like any of us, but you will not die. I would hate to experience such a fate.”

  “As would I,” Ghile said.

  “I said there were only two ways, but I left out your fate if you are captured by the cullers. Though the histories do not tell us their fate, no stonechosen ever captured by the cullers has ever been heard from again,” Master Almoriz said.

  “I think you also realize now that you must dream to learn. You also must sleep to recover from severe wounds. You cannot protect yourself at all times. This is why I have asked my apprentice to accompany you on your journey as well as the young druid and her shieldwarden.”

  “How many of us are there?” Ghile said, trying to think on something else.

  “That is the one thing none can agree on. It is not known. Though, I think there must be at least four,” Master Almoriz stated.

  “Why do you say that?” Ghile said.

  Master Almoriz motioned towards the statue looking down at them. A series of four stones formed the beginning of a spiraling pattern in the statue's chest. Ghile wondered who this stonechosen had been. Why had this shrine been built for him? Ghile wondered if he had been honored or hated among his people. He thought about the way his uncle had acted towards him. What did his uncle think about him now? What about his parents?

  “Why did my uncle separate me from my companions and sneak me into the ruins to see you, Master Almoriz?” Ghile asked.

  Master Almoriz blinked and looked away from the statue. He must have been deep in thought because it took him a moment to respond. “Your uncle?”

  “I would like to see my family now,” Ghile said.

  43

  Goodbyes

  They stood at one of the southern entrances into the old ruins. The sun's late afternoon rays climbed up the valley like clinging fingers trying to find some purchase in the deep crevasses of the wind swept stone in a vain attempt to keep the sun from sinking below the horizon.

  Ghile watched its slow descent toward the tops of the distant Redwood. Once it set, they would begin their journey. Ghile had so often dreamed of leaving the Cradle of the Gods. He always pictured himself striding gallantly out of Lakeside on some great adventure, all the gathered villagers cheering and waving as he went.

  Instead, he was sneaking out after dark, taking one of the few hunting trails that skirted around the mountain side of Crystal Lake and down out of the Cradle along one of the many rivers that flowed into the Ghost Fens.

  The others had decided it was a more direct route towards their destination and they were less likely to be seen going that way. Ghile could feel the ever-so-slight tug of the girl's soulstone in that direction and knew they were right on both counts.

  But, he also knew there were good reasons no one used that way to leave the Cradle. Places like the Ghost Fens didn't get those names without good reason. In addition, even if they made it through the fens there was nothing beyond but the deep woods, domain of the elves.

  Almoriz had heard of the City of the Fallen and knew that it was located in the middle of the elven forests, not too far from another human settlement like the Cradle. The settlement was their first destination where they were to
seek out a tradesman named Dagbar.

  Master Almoriz stood to the side with Riff, going through his pouches and over the many things Riff was supposed to remember. Riff listened intently, nodding occasionally and seeming impatient to be on his way.

  Ghile had not had a chance to speak with him since his talk with Master Almoriz. Now that he knew Riff was meant to be stonechosen, he somehow felt he owed him an apology or something.

  Two Elks leaned against one of the nearby rocky outcroppings, his stone axe and huge shield next to him. Even now he was watching their surroundings for any threat. Gaidel knelt near him, going through their provisions and trying to balance them among the many packs. She had not spoken to Ghile since the cave and Ghile had seen her staring at him from the corner of his eye more than once. He would have to find time to talk with her later.

  Ghile reached down and picked up Tia to hug her one more time, trying to commit the feeling to memory. He wondered how big she would be when he saw her next. He hoped he would see her and his family again.

  His mother had not stopped crying since Master Almoriz had brought Ghile to them. Her eyes were red and puffy as she watched her remaining two children together, her face a mixture of pain and pride. Ghile had hoped to say goodbye to some of the others from his hamlet, but many of them blamed him for their present situation, Gar's father Dargen, chief among them.

  This didn't bother Ghile as much as he would have thought, probably because a part of him had to agree. His father, on the other hand, had not stopped complaining about the fickleness of some of their relatives and wouldn't be returning to Last Hamlet to rebuild. He said what the dwarves had done could not stand and many of the others agreed, including Uncle Toren.

  Elana stepped forward and hugged Ghile and Tia. “I just got you back and I am losing you again.”

  Ghile sat Tia down. She took her mother's hand and looked between her and Ghile. She didn't seem to understand what was truly happening, but knew her mother was upset. She bit her lower lip and reached for Elana, who scooped her up quickly. Ghile was glad his mother still had Tia.

  “Take this,” Ecrec said, stepping up and handing Ghile his spear. “Remember everything I taught you, Son.” His eyes had that same serious look he had during lessons that demanded you pay attention.

  Ghile nodded. “Thank you, Father. I will.”

  Uncle Toren stepped up next to Ecrec and handed Ghile something wrapped in furs. Ghile's breath caught when he saw it was his uncle's fighting knife, the one he received after becoming a Fang of the Cradle. The long blade was steel and curved into a point. The handle made from deer antler, Ghile could see the thick rounded end where it had fallen off during a molt.

  “Uncle, I couldn't,” Ghile started to say.

  “No, Ghile. You will have need of it more than I. Two Elks can train you how to use it. Fangs were given those to help protect the Cradle. They are enchanted by the dwarves. Ecrec told me Mother Brambles chose you as a fang. It appears the All Mother has chosen you for something even more. You deserve it,” his uncle said.

  Ghile took the blade and felt the weight of it. It was heavier than he had expected.

  “Thank you, Uncle. Thank you, Father,” Ghile said.

  “I am proud of you, Son,” Ecrec said.

  Ghile swallowed hard and chose to simply nod. How long had he wanted to hear those words. His eyes burned as he fought back the tears he knew would flow freely if he tried to speak. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “It is time,” Master Almoriz said.

  Ghile nodded. Thank you for saving me, he thought. The others had already gathered and were putting on and shifting the weight of their packs. Gaidel handed Ghile his and he slid it on his shoulders and tried to balance the weight.

  Two Elks and Gaidel were already making their way down the rocky slope, Riff close behind, his everflame dancing in his open palm. Ghile hurried to catch up. His new vision allowed him to see as well in the twilight as if it was the middle of the day.

  Behind him he heard the two Valehounds barking. Ghile turned and felt a sudden need to call to them. They had never listened to him before and had even gone out of their way to torment him, but they were a piece of his past and he wanted them with him.

  “Ast! Cuz! To Me!” Ghile said.

  The two dogs continued to bark, but did not leave Ecrec's side. Ghile could see his father's face clearly and saw him glance down at the two dogs and then back at Ghile. His father couldn't know how clearly Ghile could see him. He was nodding.

  Ghile thought back to his dream and remembered what Muk had said. Yes, Muk will teach. I can teach you how to touch animals' minds and have them do your bidding.

  Ghile hadn't had any dream training, but the stone was there, firmly in his chest. Now was as good a time as ever. Clearing his mind, Ghile concentrated on Ast and Cuz and tried extending his consciousness out to them. At first he felt nothing, but then something small. It was barely perceptible, that feeling Ghile sometimes got when he was being watched or when there was someone right behind him. It was weak, but it was there.

  He knew something was happening because both Valehounds sat up straighter and focused on him. Cuz tilted his head to the side and gave a whine.

  “Ast! Cuz! To me!” Ghile said

  A proud smile appeared on Ecrec's face when both hounds bounded up and ran towards Ghile. They each circled around him once and then settled into a sitting position on either side of him as Ghile had seen them do for his father so many times before.

  “I'm not a wolf, but a fine lesson all the same, right boys?” Ghile said, ruffling their fur.

  Ghile looked back to his father. Ecrec nodded and put an arm around Elana, pulling her and Tia close.

  “Take care of him, boys,” Ecrec called.

  Ghile shouldered his pack and, with Ast and Cuz at his side, followed his new companions into the gloaming.

  Name Pronunciation & Race Guide

  Humans

  Adon ˈā-ˈdən

  Almoriz ˈal-mə-ˈriz

  Ecrec ˈek-rik

  Elana i-ˈlə-ˈna

  Gaidel gī-del

  Ghile ˈgē-lā

  Two Elks ˈtü-elks

  Dwarves

  Finngyr ˈfin-gir

  Obudar ˈō-bə-där

  Goblins

  Goblin Muk ˈmək

  Thank you for taking time to read The Cradle of the Gods. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author's best friend and much appreciated.

  About the Author

  Thomas grew up in a small town in Illinois where he spent most of his time enjoying scouting and playing role playing games. After graduation he joined the military, obtained a degree in Computer Science and saw the world. Since leaving the military, his job in IT continues to keep him abroad. As of the completion of this book, he hangs his hat in a small town in England, with his lovely wife and children, where he can be found spending most of his time enjoying scouting and playing role playing games. Some things never change.