Ebudae
John H. Carroll
Published by John H. Carroll at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 John H. Carroll
Cover Copyright 2012 John H. Carroll
Cover photography by Tracy Carroll
This book is dedicated to young women, who are stronger than anyone gives them credit for.
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
While in the gloomy ruins of an ancient city below Dralin, Ebudae and Pelya had discovered a temple dedicated to an unknown god. Within that temple was a book most ancient. Despite its age, the book was in perfect condition with gold and silver-filigreed bindings.
The cover opened of its own volition as the girls approached. Gazing upon pages that flipped before their mesmerized eyes, Ebudae and Pelya understood every word with a clarity never experienced from any other book. Neither left until the last page was finished and the cover closed.
The mysterious book told how the Gods of Ryallon came to be and a summary from it had remained sharp in the girl’s minds from that point on:
Chaotic energies swirl around Ryallon and its moons, extending far beyond to other suns and worlds, though they do not exist everywhere. The energies give us magic and shape the life of Ryallon, though they are not the source of life.
Those who we call Gods were once normal beings. When those normal beings drank of the chaotic energies too deeply, they gained vast powers. There are many Gods on and around the world of Ryallon. Some have great influence and power while others touch few.
The most ancient Gods have existed since before the beginning of humanity, but those are very odd to humans. They are called the Unreal Gods.
The earliest deities of humanity are the Van Gods. The oldest and largest temples are built to them in cities throughout Ryallon.
Others are new in the divine realm, spawned from people or creatures who attempt to control the chaotic energies. These are called the Crazed Gods, for when a being absorbs vast power too quickly, it can destroy the mind. The Crazed Gods generally burn out and their energies spread back into the chaos. However, a few grow to power.
Less common are the Hushed Gods. It is unknown when they came to be, but many believe them to be as old as the Van Gods. They influence the world in subtle ways and have few followers. This does not mean their power should be underestimated. Even Van Gods treat the Hushed Gods with great care.
And then there are the Dragons. They are not Gods, but all Gods fear them, for they are Dragons.
Chapter 1
“What are you doing with that chair?” Ebudae asked from the bed where she sat cross-legged while trying to read an old book of magical theory. She smoothed out a wrinkle in the expensive, forest-green material of her dress.
Pelya gave her a guilty look. The polished wooden chair was upside down in her hands and she was tossing it as though gauging its weight. With a dexterous flip, she turned it right side up, placed it on the ground and then sat on the soft cushion. “Commander Coodmur has been teaching us how to use furniture as weapons. It’s useful for fighting inside when we don’t have room to swing our swords. This one is just the right weight for hitting people over the head.” She patted the side of the chair while grinning.
“You are such a barbarian!” Ebudae laughed merrily. “If you go around breaking grandmother’s furniture, she’s never going to let you in the house again.” The thought sent a chill down her spine and she became serious. “Please don’t break the chair. You’re my only friend in the world and I don’t think I could live if you weren’t allowed to visit.”
In an instant, Pelya was sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of Ebudae with their knees touching. “I promise not to break the chair and no one will ever be able to keep us from being friends.” Her intense blue eyes showed nothing but sincerity. “Your sixteenth birthday is tomorrow. Is your grandmother still going to let us go to Carnival without an escort?” She pulled the waist-length braid of her black hair around and placed it in her mouth, a habit that bothered Ebudae.
“It’s hard to tell with Grandmother. She changes her mind so easily and she likes being cruel to me.” Ebudae ran fingers through her long brown hair, which was soft to the touch after the bath she had taken that afternoon. “I truly expect she’ll change her mind just as we’re about to leave tomorrow. It’s hard to tell though. She doesn’t like to be predictable. Is your father really going to let you go?”
Pelya removed the braid from her mouth. “As long as we’re together, yes. He’s mad at me again though.” She sighed and slumped her shoulders.
“Why is he always mad at you?” Ebudae asked with concern in her low, tranquil voice that Pelya always compared to a silk blanket.
“I don’t know. He gets silent and angry when he looks at me sometimes. I still think he’s mad at me for killing mother.” Pelya’s shoulders shrunk even further. She looked miserable and Ebudae could see moisture welling in the normally bright eyes.
“You didn’t kill your mother!” Ebudae was tired of her friend saying so. “She died in childbirth, which happens to women all the time, a reason I don’t think I ever want children.” Ebudae sighed in exasperation and put her hands on Pelya’s knees. “I honestly don’t think your father blames you for it. But he does seem angry with you and it doesn’t make sense. Sometimes he glares at you when you’re not looking.” Ebudae paused and shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe he is mad at you for your mother’s death, even though it’s wrong.”
“I don’t blame him.” Self-pity filled Pelya’s strong, clear voice. “Everyone talks about how happy they were together and how miserable Daddy was when she died. Then he had to raise a child in the barracks. It would have been much better if I had died instead of Mommy.”
It was rare for Pelya to be anything but energetic and happy. When she did become morose, it tended to be deep and sudden. Ebudae tapped her on the knee. “It would not have been better, because then I would’ve been left alone to deal with Grandmother all by myself. I’m moody enough as it is.” Ebudae hoped that would draw her friend out of despair.
Pelya shrugged shoulders that were strong and wide for a young woman. “Sometimes it’s easier to believe that I was a mistake. Nothing about me is normal. Even at fifteen, I’m faster with a sword than most. I hate dresses and I’m probably not even a real girl.”
Ebudae leaned forward and hugged her. “You are a real girl. Everyone loves you, including your father.”
The mood left as quickly as it had set in and Pelya hugged back for a moment. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Daddy seemed so angry when I asked if I could go with you.” Confusion crossed her face. “He growled when he said yes and his eyes glowed like they do when he’s mad. It didn’t make sense.”
“He still hasn’t told anyone what god made his eyes purple, has he?” Ebudae asked.
Pelya shook her head. “No. I’ve asked
him a couple of times, but he doesn’t answer or he tells me never to ask again. His eyes used to be the same color blue as mine before he became God-Touched. Most people don’t survive the experience, but Daddy’s not most people.”
“I don’t think your father is normal.” Ebudae smirked. “I like that about him.”
A laugh burst from Pelya’s throat. “You like anything that’s not normal.”
Ebudae grinned mischievously. “True. That’s why you’re my best friend.”
“Hey!” Pelya tackled Ebudae and they wrestled, laughing the entire time. As usual, the stronger warrior won over the smaller wizardess.
They sat side by side, catching their breath. “Your father is intimidating when he’s mad,” Ebudae said. “It’s not just that he looks dangerous, his reputation for being a deadly swordsman or the fact that his eyes glow purple, but there’s a primal sort of fury in him and it feels like . . . like he’s going to destroy everything in his path.” Ebudae paused. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about him like that.”
“It’s alright,” Pelya reassured with a hand on Ebudae’s arm and an understanding smile. “I know what you mean. He’s intimidating even when he’s not angry. His troops do their best to hide when he does get upset.”
“He’s a good father and he loves you,” Ebudae replied, her pearlescent pink eyes lending support and comfort. “I know that for a fact no matter how you may feel sometimes.”
“I guess.” Pelya shrugged. “I’m hungry. Should we get some lunch?” She stood and stretched her nearly six-foot tall frame. Pelya had more muscle than most women her age due to the fact that she had been training with wooden swords since she could pick them up. The sword at her side was made of light steel and it darted through the air like a hummingbird when she practiced with it. She was sharply dressed in blue leggings with a black shirt and silver embroidery. Her polished boots were sitting out by the main door of Ebudae’s sitting room; she didn’t wear them in the manor.
“You’re probably so hungry because of all the magic we practiced last night.” Ebudae stretched too and then followed her friend out of the bedroom. “Lots of food and sleep are needed to replenish the body.”
“I’ve noticed.” Pelya led the way out of the suite. “I eat more when you teach me spells than I do when I’ve been drilling all day.”
“The good news is that you don’t sweat as much or get so stinky. It gets bad in the summertime when it’s hot and humid like it has been this week.” She grinned when Pelya stuck a tongue out at her. “You’re actually getting pretty good at magic. The barriers you learned to cast last night should help you.”
“I’m nowhere near as good as you.” Pelya looked at her with respect. “You’re more talented with magic than any of the Guard wizards I’ve seen and that’s saying a lot.”
Ebudae shrugged in embarrassment. “I’ve been doing it since I was a kid and I have all those books from the wizard’s academy below the manor.”
They walked down the stairs from the third floor where Ebudae’s suite was to the kitchen on the main floor. Pelya shook her head and disagreed. “No. You have style and flair when you cast. You learn spells instantly and even make them better if you see a way to do so. It goes beyond books and time. Magic is a part of you.”
They entered the kitchen and approached Ebudae’s personal assistant, Tina. She was a pleasant woman with a very bad stutter and an eyepatch. The eye had been lost in some terrible childhood event no one ever spoke of. Ebudae believed her grandmother had hired Tina because it would make Ebudae’s life more difficult. The stuttering was so bad that the girl would have to wait for minutes whenever Tina delivered a message from her grandmother, which would make her late for whatever her grandmother needed her for. In addition, the eyepatch was unnerving because Lady Pallon had ordered one with a painted eyeball on it and insisted the woman wear it. Tina was a poor woman who had no other avenues of work, so did what she had to.
“Bring us lunch in the dining room, Tina,” Ebudae said pleasantly.
The woman avoided speaking, responding with a nod while running fingers through her dull-blonde hair. A minute later, Ebudae and Pelya sat at the table with cool fruit, vegetables, salted crackers, cheese and juice for their enjoyment. They ate quickly without tasting. Neither spoke until the plates were cleared and they sat back to let the food settle.
“Do you want to go exploring?” Ebudae asked. “We could go into the ancient city and fight monsters if you want, although climbing down all those stairs to the academy below the manor seems like a lot of work and I’m feeling lazy.”
Pelya shook her head. “No. I’m not in the mood today. Your grandmother keeps the house nice and cool, plus I don’t feel like getting blood and gore on me.” She rubbed her shoulders. “Actually, I’m kind of cold. Let’s go out to the fountain and get warm for a while and then we can practice more magic.”
“Alright. We can do that,” Ebudae agreed with a suspicious look. They stood and headed toward the backyard, using the kitchen exit. “You mentioned your mother earlier. Do you want to visit the fountain because that’s where her ashes were spread?”
“Yes,” Pelya admitted, not looking her friend in the eye. Instead, she looked around at the pond, rosebushes, willows and other large trees in the vast back yard. There were also ivy-covered buildings, a few of which had secret passages leading underground.
They walked to an old fountain with a small statue of a woman in the center. The statue’s clothing was painted bright yellow with gold lacework. Her hair was black and she leaned over, pouring water from a vibrant blue jug. The clear water within appeared to glisten with the radiance of the sun.
Rosebushes grew wild around it and the grass was green and fresh. The roses had three times as many thorns as normal and the blossoms were all dark violet, an extremely unusual variety not found anywhere else in the city. Pelya’s father had told her that the fountain used to be dry and the ground barren until the day after her mother’s ashes had been spread.
They sat on the edge of the fountain and ran their hands in the water, watching the ripples. Ebudae turned to one of the nearby rosebushes tapped her finger against a glistening thorn. She watched as a drop of blood welled up before putting the finger in her mouth and sucking on it.
“Why do you always do that?” Pelya asked in exasperation. “Every time we get near those rosebushes, you stab your finger and suck the blood off. It’s macabre.”
Ebudae shrugged and explained the best she could. “It feels good. They’re sharp and they leave a . . . stinging sort of burning sensation. I like it.” She poked the middle finger of the same hand to emphasize, and then the ring finger. The sharp stinging shot through the finger and into her hand and she held up the blood spotted fingers. “See? It’s not a real injury. It just feels good.”
“You are so weird.” Pelya shook her head. She couldn’t resist the urge to duplicate the action though and tapped a nearby thorn as well. “Ow!” She stared at the blood spot for a moment and sighed before sticking it in her mouth, glaring as Ebudae grinned impudently.
When she took the finger out of her mouth, the wound was completely healed. Ebudae’s healed as well. It was a peculiar trait of the rosebushes that the injuries didn’t last after the blood was cleaned off, although the two girls were the only ones silly enough to ever test that theory.
They sat at the fountain for an hour, soaking in the heat of the day and running fingers through the cool water. Occasionally they would chat, but mostly remained lost in their own thoughts. When the humidity became uncomfortable with sweat beading down their faces, they headed back inside.
Ebudae’s grand suite consisted of three bedrooms, a bathroom, an office, a library and two magical workrooms that Ebudae kept locked. The main workroom connected to the suite directly while the secondary one was only accessible through the first. Lady Pallon didn’t know what the rooms were for and preferred not to know the girl’s activities.
The large workroom
they entered had magical items scattered carelessly on tables, stands, chairs and shelves. There were old, comfortable couches that the girls liked to sit in while studying and a couple of writing tables with ink, quills and paper. Bookshelves against the stone walls held over a hundred books, a luxury few could afford. They were kept more neatly than anything else, showing an added amount of respect. The comfortable smell of book bindings and paper permeated the silent room. Unlike the library, which held tomes of history, politics and vapid poetry, the books in this room were from the ruins below the city. Many contained artwork and stories that would make adults blush, forbidden philosophies and more importantly: books of all things magic.
The girls went into the secondary workroom. A large rune of concentric circles drawn in silvery liquid on the floor of one corner took up a quarter of the room and had candles all around it. Other rune circles were drawn on the walls around the room, though they were in mundane colors. Three worktables had different components Ebudae used to make magical items. Bubbling liquids in various tubes, bottles and vials filled with colored liquids were scattered around a potion-making table. Odors from the long-brewing potions tickled Pelya’s nose uncomfortably.
“We’ll work on defenses against magic some more,” Ebudae said. “That’s going to be your biggest need in the Guard. There are wizards everywhere in this city and all of them know how to overcome someone with a mundane weapon.” Ebudae stopped in front of a table with a scroll on it. “The Guard wizards are good at their job, but it’s even better if you can take care of yourself too.”
“The problem is that using magic is tiring and I need all my strength to fight with the sword.” Pelya chewed on her lip and crossed her arms. “Casting also requires gestures, which means I can’t draw as soon. It also leaves me light headed for a moment when I need to be assessing the battle.”
“The spells I’m teaching you are ones you can cast when you know you’re going into danger, especially when you go alone.” Ebudae opened up a scroll. It would be a perfect spell for Pelya to learn.
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