The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1)

by Ethridge, Aaron J.

  The Tower of Daelfaun

  By Aaron J. Ethridge

  Additional info can be found at:

  AaronJEthridge.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Aaron J. Ethridge

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Printing, 2016

  ASIN: B01BICL1OC

  Kindle Edition

  Ethridge Publishing

  2311 Lake Drive

  Williston, SC 29853

  Aaronjethridge.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: This Old House

  Chapter 2: A Time To Haggle

  Chapter 3: Over the Hills

  Chapter 4: If Just A Cup Of Water

  Chapter 5: Getting To Know You

  Chapter 6: Ever Eastward

  Chapter 7: Up The Airy Mountain

  Chapter 8: Good Food, Interesting Company

  Chapter 9: Taking the Veil

  Chapter 10: A Hot Stake

  Chapter 11: What's The Magic Ward?

  Chapter 12: Name That Tune

  Chapter 13: A Hello To Arms

  Chapter 14: A Single Spark

  Chapter 15: Fan The Flames

  Chapter 16: A Little Light Reading

  Thank You!

  Chapter 1: This Old House

  “I can't do that,” Paul said, glancing over the top of his monitor. “You don't just walk up to a girl like that and start talking.”

  “I do,” Joey chuckled. “Like all the time.”

  “Well I don't,” the young man replied. “I mean, look at her. She's got to be a nine at least.”

  “Eight and a half, maybe. And that's only because she's got her makeup done right today.”

  “Well what I am? Like a five if my hair is perfect?”

  “I don't know,” Joey said shaking his head. “I've never thought of you in those terms. You want me to try?”

  “No thanks,” Paul laughed. “Anyway, my point is that she's got no reason to give me the time of day, bro.”

  “You got a degree and a good job,” his friend replied. “That's more than a lot of guys got going for 'em.”

  “Oh yeah,” the young man nodded. “Fresh out of college and six months on the job as a code monkey for a plant. That's really gonna impress her.”

  “She works at the same place, genius. And what is she? Like the coffee girl or something?”

  “Shut up,” Paul replied, glaring at his friend. “She's a secretary, which is a for real position. And she's working on a degree. I think she's going to be a nurse or something.”

  “Well that don't outrank programmer in my book.”

  “I ain't worried about your book.”

  “Either way, go talk to her,” Joey said encouragingly. “What's the worst thing that could happen?”

  “She could shut me down bad.”

  “So. Would it be the first time?”

  “No...” Paul said slowly shaking his head. “No, it wouldn't be...”

  “So, go to it then. The law of averages is more in your favor every time.”

  “Okay,” the young man sighed. “You're right. I might as well get the laughing in my face over with. That way I can get my mind back on my work.”

  “That's the spirit!”

  The young man rose and began slowly making his way across the cubicle filled floor. He quickly stopped to grab himself a foam cup filled to the brim with black coffee. He figured it would at least legitimize his getting that much closer to her desk and that she might find the idea of coffee without cream or sugar manly in some way. At least he did; he couldn't stand to drink it like that.

  His palms began to pump out their usual clammy sweat as he drew ever nearer the office goddess of his dreams. She was positioned in such a way as to look as if her attention was focused on her computer when, in fact, it was completely captivated by the phone in her hand. Paul wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing, but her current occupation was enough for him.

  She was staring into her hand, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders, her bright red lips moving hypnotically as she mindlessly chewed her gum. Her blood red nails were wrapped around one edge of her phone as she taped the screen time and time again with her thumb. Whatever it was she did, it was a pleasure just to watch her work.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice almost cracking as he spoke. “Can I get you some coffee while I'm up?”

  “Nope,” she replied without lifting her gaze, raising an empty cup from her desk. “Already had Starbucks.”

  “Yeah...” he nodded slowly. “So... I don't think we've met.”

  “Nope.”

  “I'm Paul,” he continued, slightly encouraged by the fact that she hadn't called security yet. “Paul Stevens.”

  “I wish they'd make y'all wear name tags,” she said with a sigh, still not looking up. “It'd be a lot easier to keep you all straight.”

  “Right,” the young man half chuckled. “Maybe I can mention that at the next staff meeting.”

  “Great...” she said slowly. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Yeah...” he replied, before taking a deep breath. “I think maybe you can. I'm going out to dinner tonight and thought it might be cool if you wanted to join me.”

  “Really?” she said, finally turning her gaze in his direction.

  “Really,” he swallowed.

  “Well, I'd love to hon,” she smiled, “but my stalker roster is completely full right now. You see what I mean?”

  “I think I do,” he nodded.

  “Good. I'm glad we could work this out just between the two of us.”

  “Sure thing. You'll let me know when you have an opening though, right?”

  “You're tenth in line, but I'll be sure to keep your place in mind.”

  “Thanks,” he nodded again. “Much appreciated.”

  Having said everything he could think to, he turned to slink away.

  “Oh, and Mister Stevens,” she said, her eyes locked on him. “If you end up being a doctor anytime in the next year or so you be sure to let me know.”

  “I'll do my best to keep you posted,” he replied, before returning defeated to his desk.

  “Well that seemed to go well,” Joey smiled as soon as his friend was seated.

  “Oh yeah,” Paul chuckled. “I'm pretty sure I'm not even gonna be facing any charges.”

  “That's a plus.”

  “And I want to thank you, bro,” the young man nodded, “for helping me make this day so very memorable.”

  “Any time,” Joey replied. “But you've got even more excitement lined up for tonight, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Moving out of Mama's. First night in the new house.”

  “Hardly new,” Joey corrected. “It's like two hundred years old or something and it's bad run down.”

  “Still, it's new to you. And it ain't Mama's. That's win-win, brother.”

  “I guess so,” Paul chuckled. “It is gonna be a little weird though. And the realtor said it's supposed to be haunted, but I ain't really worried about that.”

  “You ain't?” Joey asked incredulously.

  “Nah, man,” Paul replied. “I'm pretty sure he was full 'o crap. He didn't mention it until I happened to say something about watching Ghost Hunters. Plus I sleep with the lights on like half the time anyway.”

  “That's cool, I guess,” his friend said. “But I don't mess with no ghosts, man. That ain't my bag.”

 
“There's no such thing as ghosts anyway.”

  “Right... And we can discuss that fact first thing tomorrow morning.”

  The rest of the working day was uneventful with regard both to women and haunted houses, filled instead with one annoying bug after another. Shortly after five 'o’clock Paul was pulling into the driveway of his new house, located on the distant outskirts of good old Aiken, South Carolina. Spanish moss hung from the limbs of the many hardwoods that filled his rather spacious front lawn. The white paint that had once protected the ancient wooden home from the weather was chipped and pealing in a number of places and the boards that decked the porch were in serious need of replacement.

  Still, it was somewhere to hang his hat where his mom couldn't tell him to move it. And, of course, he had already seen to the real necessities. Two days earlier the super high speed internet had been hooked up, and a giant flat screen TV was already securely hanging from his living-room wall. Shortly after six he had already heated and consumed his microwave bounty, before diving into one of his truly massive multi-player online games. It was roughly midnight when he finally dropped his weary bones onto the sheet covered mattress that was currently laying directly on the floor. He hadn't even bothered to take off his clothes and almost instantly he fell deeply into the arms of sleep.

  After what seemed like mere moments the sound of thunder tore through the sky above. Paul opened his eyes on a very unexpected sight. It appeared as if he were laying on a dark stone floor sitting beneath a star filled canopy, twin moons shining down from above. Near his face he could make out a number of glowing runes and just in front of him, two rather unusual people stooped, their faces lit by torchlight.

  The first was a woman dressed in red leather armor, a sword hanging from her side. Her grey eyes were staring into his own, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail hanging over one shoulder. She was attractive, but clearly close to twice his age. Also, she was a good deal more muscular than he was, which the young man had always found to be a bit of a turn off.

  The second individual's most remarkable feature was that he was almost massive. He was covered in black armor, and each of his visible muscles seemed to ripple beneath his skin. His hair was short and brown, his eyes bright and green. There was a sword at his side and he held a poleaxe in his left hand.

  “Well,” Paul said, having taken a moment to consider the scene, “this is unquestionably the most vivid dream I've ever had. No more Salisbury steak and Mountain Dew for me.”

  “Noble, it,” the woman began in hushed tones, “we must flee this place at once. The dead are on the march and they'll soon be upon us.”

  “That sounds about right,” the young man replied, sitting up as he spoke.

  As he did so he could see that he was actually in the very center of a circle of glowing runes, their radiance slowly fading away.

  “Here, it,” the man in black said, drawing his sword as he spoke. “Take this. You may need it before we reach a haven of rest.”

  “Oh absolutely,” Paul replied, taking the blade he had been offered. “I'd hate to get killed before I see how all this ends.”

  Immediately the man reached out, taking Paul by his empty hand and helping him to his feet.

  “I'm Sarrac by the way,” he said with a smile. “And this is Alena.”

  “Pleased to meet you both,” the young man replied with a nod. “Call me Paul.”

  “Thank you, Paul,” Alena said with a slight bow. “You honor us.”

  “Yeah. I'm sure I do. So, are we just standing here 'til the dead show up or what?”

  “No,” she replied shaking her head. “We’re most certainly not. Let's go.”

  As soon as Alena finished speaking, she turned and began leading them from the ruins, holding the torch aloft in her hands. It seemed to Paul that the shattered structure they were marching through was what was left of an ancient tower. Although the floors above were completely gone, and the surrounding walls worn and low, he could see the fragments of a staircase leading upwards. And here and there pillars of stone rose toward the star filled sky. In just moments they reached a large, and rusted, steel door. Immediately Alena pulled it open, only to slam it instantly shut again.

  “It's too late,” she said with a sigh. “They're on the staircase.”

  “How many?” Sarrac asked.

  “Too many.”

  “I doubt that,” he chuckled, slapping the young man on the back. “Not with the it on our side.”

  “You could be right,” she admitted. “Paul, what do you suggest?”

  “Just throw the door open and stand back,” he said lifting his sword into a somewhat ready position. “I'll take 'em out as they come through the door Diablo style.”

  “That seems unwise,” Sarrac replied, his brows knitted in concern.

  “I agree,” Alena said. “But after all, Paul is the it. I feel certain he knows best.”

  “You're right about that, baby,” Paul chuckled. “Now throw the door open!”

  Immediately she did as he had asked. There in the doorway stood the decaying form of a large zombie, one arm already drawn back in attack. In a flash Paul leapt forward and sliced the creature across its face and chest, screaming out a battle cry as he did so. The monster completely ignored this assault, however, and dropped its fist with the force of a flying anvil onto the side of Paul's head. The blow knocked the young man face down onto the floor.

  The zombie stepped through the doorway and onto Paul's skull as it reached out toward the young man's companions. An instant later Sarrac's ax severed the creature's head while Alena dragged Paul away from the doorway by the ankles. In mere seconds she was back at the side of her ax wielding companion, trying desperately to stem the flow of undead quickly pouring through the portal.

  “This dream is quickly becoming a nightmare,” Paul observed, getting to his feet and raising his hand to his throbbing head.

  “This is no dream, it!” the female warrior screamed. “Fight or die!”

  “This has got to be...” Paul began, before realizing that one of the monsters was about to attack Alena from behind.

  Dream or not, he wasn't going to just stand there while some guy started beating on a woman. Even a dead guy and a large, muscular, sword-wielding woman. Once again he sprang into action, doing the only thing he could think of. He rushed forward and punched the zombie in the face. The young man was thrilled by the fact that this knocked several of the monster's teeth out, but was rather upset by the thought that he had probably broken his hand in the assault. And, of course, the undead aren't all that big on dental health. So, without any regard for its missing molars the monster knocked Paul to the ground and proceeded to stomp him to death.

  This time Alena came to his rescue, her sword flying one way and then another. In seconds the then lifeless corpse of the former undead collapsed on the prostrate form of the bruised and battered young man. He crawled from beneath this wreckage to see his allies slowly being surrounded.

  “We have to get out of here!” Alena yelled.

  “I agree,” Sarrac replied. “But how do you suggest we do that?”

  “We jump!”

  “That seems unwise!”

  “Do you have another idea?”

  “None spring to mind!”

  “Then let's go! Get up Paul!”

  The young man immediately did as he was commanded, as Alena reached down, deftly catching up the blade he had dropped.

  “Follow me!” she said, turning and flying into the relative darkness behind them.

  Moments later they were standing beside a section of low wall, impenetrable darkness the only view below, the ground hidden from the light of the beaming moons by the shadow of the fallen tower.

  “Jump!” she exclaimed glaring at Paul.

  “You're insane!” he said. “And this has got to be a dream!”

  “Then fly!” she retorted.

  “Even in my dreams I can't do that!”

  “
Well, it's jump or face more zombies!” she pointed out. “If this isn't a dream which way would you rather die?!?!”

  “Right,” he replied with a tone of resolve. “How far is it?”

  “One story, but the ground below is solid rock.”

  “Okay,” he said, nodding slowly. “Ladies first.”

  She glared at him, silently shaking her head before quickly leaping over the wall, followed immediately by her companion in black. Paul stood for several seconds gazing down into the darkness beneath him. Finally, a low groan helped him rise to the challenge. If it was break his neck or get beat to death by the zombies that were coming up behind him, he would take the fall every time.

  “Geronimo!” he yelled as he threw himself over the waist high wall.

  Fortunately for all of them, Alena's assertion had not been completely correct. Although much of the surrounding landscape was bare and solid stone the patch of ground on which they landed was covered with rich loam and thick, spongy moss.

  “Let's get out of here,” Sarrac said as soon as Paul was once again on his feet.

  The trio sped quickly and silently into the surrounding night. As the hours passed, Paul began to accept the idea that this might not be a dream. At least, he had never felt so exhausted in a dream before. They finally stopped for the night at what the young man felt had to be around four in the morning. In complete silence Alena and Sarrac built a small fire before collapsing on the ground, just feet from the little blaze.

  “He cannot be the it,” Alena asserted gazing deeply into the bright and merry flames.

  “He has to be,” Sarrac replied with a tone of complete confidence.

  “Paul,” she said, turning her eyes to the young man. “Are you the it?”

  “I honestly have no idea what you mean,” he confessed.

  “Is the title by which you are known it?” Sarrac asked.

  “No,” Paul replied shaking his head. “No one's ever even called me it before... Oh wait, that's not true. Jessica Matthews did once. Man, that was a rough day...”

  “So you have been called it?” Sarrac asked.

  “Yes, once,” the young man chuckled. “But I still have no idea what you two are talking about.”