ERAFEEN
BOOK 4
The Chronicle
David F. Farris
Copyright © 2018 by David F. Canfield-Farris
All rights reserved.
www.erafeen.com
Written by: David F. Farris
Cover illustrated by: Alessandro Brunelli
This book is a work of fiction.
All material was derived from the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to persons, alive or deceased, are simply coincidental.
It is illegal to scan, upload, and distribute any part of this book, digital or printed, without written permission from the author. Please refrain from participating in or encouraging acts of piracy out of respect for the people who create such works.
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Sphaira Publishing, 2018
*This is a 3D diagram of Erafeen’s world, Kuki Sphaira: a ball of air with floating islands and rivers. There are no landscapes or structures depicted within each kingdom because its purpose is a full-world view. Arrows represent flow of gravity. Dev, Cyn, Power, Still, and Prim Kingdoms (Dark Realm) hang on the underbellies of floating islands. Intel, Archaic, Spirit, Adren, and Passion Kingdoms (Light Realm) sit atop. More detailed maps of individual kingdoms ahead.
Light Realm
Intel Kingdom (mind, electricity):
Bryson, Simon, Lilu, Jugtah, Princess Shelly, King Vitio, Grandarion, Lars, Yvole, Frederick, Gracie, Limone, Jayce, Wendel
Passion Kingdom (heart, fire):
Olivia, Himitsu, Director Venustas, King Damian, Fane, Horos, Rosel, General Landon, Barloe, Jannis
Spirit Kingdom (soul, wind):
Jilly, Tashami, Director Neaneuma, Queen Apsa, Wert, General Minerva, Crole, Frina, Rayne
Adren Kingdom (body, speed):
Toshik, Yama, Director Buredo, King Supido, Toth, General Sinno, Saikatto
Archaic Kingdom (mind, ancients):
Agnos, Rhyparia, Itta, Prince Sigmund, Ophala, Vliyan, Musku, Captain Gray Whale, Kaylee
Dark Realm
Dev Kingdom (mind, psychic):
Vistas, Flen, King Storshae, Illipsia, Tazama, Warden Gala, Jina, Halluci
Still Kingdom (heart, ice):
Apoleia, Ropinia, Titus, Garlo, Valp, Leo, Gennaio, Moroza
Cyn Kingdom (soul, supernatural):
Pinako
Power Kingdom (body, strength):
Vuilni, Warden Feissam, Queen Gantski
Prim Kingdom:
Not all characters are listed
THE ERAFEEN SERIES
BY DAVID F. FARRIS
THE JESTIVAN
THE UNTENABLE
THE UPRISING
THE CHRONICLE
THE SACRIFICE (Autumn, 2018)
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Maps
Character List
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – A Spy’s Art
Chapter 2 – An Unexpected Asset
Chapter 3 – Torchtop
Chapter 4 – Cosmos
Chapter 5 – True Light
Chapter 6 – Black Bear’s Birch
Chapter 7 – Unboundants
Chapter 8 – Travolter
Chapter 9 – A Cloaked Ambush
Chapter 10 – Boarded and Seized
Chapter 11 – A Legend’s Inception
Chapter 12 – A Memory Forgotten
Chapter 13 – Lost Wisdom
Chapter 14 – Weapon in the Sky
Chapter 15 – Movement
Chapter 16 – Socioenergenic
Chapter 17 – A Chilling Acquaintance
Chapter 18 – The Key to the Dive
Chapter 19 – Realmular Tunnel
Chapter 20 – Throno
Chapter 21 – Number Eight
Chapter 22 – Mythmaker
Chapter 23 – Bryson’s Bolt
Chapter 24 – Power Moves
Chapter 25 – The Archaic Museum
Chapter 26 – Miracle Weaver
Chapter 27 – Confines of Consciousness
Chapter 28 – The Tethering
Chapter 29 – An Arsenal
Chapter 30 – Torture
Chapter 31 – A Refugee in Disguise
Chapter 32 – Shadow’s Omen
Chapter 33 – The Counter Attack
Chapter 34 – The Dive for Destiny
Chapter 35 – Waiting Game
Chapter 36 – The Blizzard of Blood
Chapter 37 – Fear’s Wrathful Wings
Chapter 38 – A Mere Number
Chapter 39 – The Cave on the Seafloor
Chapter 40 – Rings of Wings and Strings
Chapter 41 – The Chronicle
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The Erafeen Series
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1
A Spy’s Art
Archain Road served as a direct path between Phelos’s outskirts and the palace, cleanly cutting the capital in half. It was wide, glorious, and the only tar-paved road in the Archaic Kingdom—the second poorest of the ten. Such a distinction would hopefully change for the better with the induction of a new king. Fortune sat on the kingdom’s horizon.
A sea of people drowned the entirety of Archain Road, stretching out of sight and into the suburbs. A massive stage blocked the main gate of the palace grounds. Toth Brench, known as the Amendment Order’s Chief Merchant before the regime’s upheaval, sat in an elegant chair near the back of the stage. Next to him sat the former Chief Officer and Toth’s closest ally, Wert Lamay.
At the front of the stage, a young man addressed the crowd. He wore a scarf in the middle of summer, distinguishing himself as Prince Sigmund and the rightful heir to the Archaic Kingdom’s throne ... but who said anything about this ceremony being “right.”
Standing to the side, Tazama, a blue-haired, dark-skinned woman in burgundy robes, her blue eyes currently a deep red, recorded Sigmund’s speech. And somewhere in the distance, Jina and Halluci—two Dev Diatia whose purpose was to counter the Jestivan—were broadcasting the speech to citizens via holographic displays that hovered above the crowds.
While the royal heads around the realm already knew who would hold the throne, the Archaic citizens did not. The time had come.
“I know what you all are thinking,” said Sigmund through a bullhorn, an ancient lent to him by the man who commentated the Generals’ Battle. “You’re questioning the absence of my crown. Surely, now that the fraudulent Amendment Order has been disposed of, I would follow in my father’s footsteps, correct?”
Sigmund paused, lowering the ancient as he gazed across the silent masses. Toth leaned back in his seat, his elbow on the chair’s arm as he watched the young prince.
Raising the bullhorn again, Sigmund said, “But let’s not forget what kind of man my father was. He made catastrophic mistakes that put our kingdom in the position it is now. And his father—my grandfather—may have had a grasp of foreign affairs, but even he didn’t have the trust or respect of his own people.
“And I fear I don’t have what it takes to act as king. Like my fathers before me, I am flawed. I proved that when I sided with Chief Arbitrator Grandarion and Senator Rosel during the Gravity Trials. That decision alone worsened everything, and then I ostracized the only two men who had fought for a decision that would’ve avoided the disastrous night of Rhyparia NuForce’s failed execution.”
Sigmund turned toward Toth and Wert before
addressing the crowd again. “Therefore, this kingdom should belong to a man worth more than most royal heads. Ladies and gentleman, I present to you your new leader, King Toth Brench.”
Toth stood up to cheers few and far between, which allowed a smattering of boos to creep through. He buttoned his suit with one hand as he approached the front of the stage, pulling at his tie’s knot in the process. He wasn’t bothered by the crowd’s lack of enthusiasm; he had expected it.
Toth shook Sigmund’s hand before turning to the people. Eyes slowly raking the crowd, Toth nodded his head as he said, “I won’t wear a crown. It does not belong in my possession, nor do I expect to be glorified because of a garment that sits on my head. Instead, I’ll gain your trust by the meaningful actions I’ll take to better your lives. I’m allied with some of the most powerful and wealthiest individuals in Kuki Sphaira.
“The True Light alliance cannot hurt you. The combined strength of the newly formed Lamaylian Army, led by Wert Lamay—now known as Proxy to the King—and the Dark Realm royal heads: Dev King Storshae, Power Queen Gantski, Still Queen ...”
A mass of wings swarmed into the sky in the distance, stopping Toth mid-sentence. At the same time, Wert shot out of his seat. Falcons scattered into the air, soaring higher and higher. This wasn’t a freak accident, rather the act of a woman who had once been imprisoned in the palace’s dungeons. Toth had wondered what had happened to Spy Pilot Ophala following the uprising.
Glancing downward, Toth sought out Elyol Brekton, Garlo, and Dev Warden Gala, who were stationed in front of the stage. They each gazed back toward him. The instant he nodded, they took off toward the disruption with a battalion of Lamaylian soldiers in their wake.
Toth tried to recollect himself, but his nerves were now on edge ... Ophala Vevlu was still in the capital.
* * *
Elyol and his unit split away from Garlo and Gala as they each headed for different areas of Thriskia, one of Phelos’s outlying sectors. With everybody occupying Archain Road, the city felt like a ghost town. Streets and buildings were mostly deserted. The only civilians still in the sector were tavern owners. If Ophala ran, she shouldn’t have been able to blend in with a crowd, but the sheer scope of this city made spotting her impossible. Besides, as a spy, one of her greatest skills was her elusiveness.
“Comb the sector, search every building!” Elyol barked, sending soldiers in every direction. He studied the third and fourth floor windows of the taller buildings, searching for any hint of Ophala’s location. Typically, he’d pinpoint open windows, but in a place as poor as this, none of the windows had glass or shutters in the first place.
As he stood in an intersection, his staff of lava in his hand, a woman stepped out of a nearby tannery. “Are you looking for the birds?” she asked.
Elyol slowly tilted his head down from the sky. “Yes, a flock of falcons were spotted about ten minutes ago.”
“It was the strangest spectacle,” she said. “I saw them soar above the buildings from two blocks over.”
“That way?” he asked, pointing a finger to the west.
She nodded. After ensuring they weren’t falling victim to a misdirection ploy, he thanked her and scurried down the road. Turning left at the second intersection, he found a road bordered on both sides by old chapels—a street that had never left ancient times. Why hadn’t it been torn down or renovated centuries ago? Religion was a primordial practice only seen in the Prim Kingdom. The rest of Kuki Sphaira had abolished it during the first few centuries of the Known History timeline.
Elyol slowed his pace, feeling a shift in the aura around him. Goosebumps ran down the back of his neck and spine as his gaze absorbed every inch of his surroundings. This was why such practices had been forbidden so long ago. There was even a man and a tale that depicted the dangers: Gatal Accus, The First of Five. And now, over a millennium later, the effects still lingered.
The chapels were taller than most of the buildings in Thriskia. Stained glass windows, most of which were now broken, ran across their walls. Outside of the homeless, they had likely been uninhabited for centuries.
A pair of soldiers appeared at an intersection up ahead. “Give this block a thorough search,” Elyol commanded. “I have reason to believe this is the spot.”
The two women headed down the street, then stopped, reaching up to rub their eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Elyol asked.
“The light is blinding, sir,” one woman replied, trying to open her eyes, only to quickly shield them again. “It’s like the sun is sitting directly above us. How are you standing there so casually, sir?”
Elyol gazed up. The sun may have been bright and unforgiving, but that was typical of the Archaic Kingdom. This street was affecting the two soldiers differently than it did him. “Never mind,” he said. “Search elsewhere.”
As they disappeared around the corner, Elyol stared at a nearby chapel’s domed roof. The paint had eroded completely, leaving a surface of worn wood. His gaze dropped to the main doors. One was open, the other shut. As he approached them, black and white splotches on the dirt street caught his attention. A scattered trail of bird droppings, he realized. Glancing back at the building, he noticed it came from the direction of one of the building’s shattered windows.
He bolted up its steps and through the front doors, bypassing rows of pews, until he reached a staircase along the side wall. He skipped two steps at a time on his way up. Once at the top, he headed in the direction of the shattered window. Slowing as he entered the room, he stared at what was pinned to the far wall.
Elyol gave the room a quick inspection for any kind of threat before he finally crept across. His body shuddered upon reaching the severed hand—nailed to the wall as if it were a framed painting. The fingers curled inward, loosely grasping a scroll. Retrieving the paper, he untied it. A brown feather fell to the floor as he read the message:
Every painter’s masterpiece begins with a single stroke of the brush. The same rings true in the art of a spy.
Elyol’s gaze flickered up to the hand that belonged to Wert Lamay. They hadn’t been sure who the culprit had been. Under the impression that Ophala wasn’t someone capable of such an act, they’d believed it to have been one of the three Passion Assassins: Himitsu, Horos, or Fane. Perhaps such an assumption was wrong.
They were dealing with a different version of Ophala. The Spy Pilot had hardened into something as merciless as her adversaries. And she was willing to paint the entire canvas red with the blood of her enemies.
2
An Unexpected Asset
Weeks ago, Phelos had been overtaken, the Archaic Kingdom conquered. North of seven hundred soldiers had been killed on the night of the uprising, the vast majority of those deaths belonging to True Light, an alliance comprised of the Intel, Passion, Adren, and Spirit Kingdoms.
With the deaths of Rosel Sania and Grandarion Senten, the Amendment Order had perished, paving the way for Toth Brench to become king and marking the first time in Known History that a kingdom was ruled solely by a foreigner. With this change in leadership, the Archaic Kingdom’s loyalty had shifted from the Light Realm to an alliance composed of the Stillians, Cynnish, Archains, Powish, and Devish—otherwise known as SCAPD.
With these shifts, royal families were forced to operate in a way they hadn’t in decades. The focus of discussions transitioned from commerce and politics to military tactics. Nobody would win this war without infiltration, whether on a small scale with spies and assassins or on a grander one, involving fleets at sea or brigades through teleplatforms. It came down to who was brave enough to strike first.
Intel King Vitio knew this, but, more importantly, he understood the patience required when dealing with a situation of this magnitude. The strife of the past couple years between his family and the Archaic Kingdom following Itta’s betrayal of the realm was nothing compared to this. While that had been a feud between two kingdoms, this was a war between nine.
It was the e
nd of another day of arduous strategy sessions with advisors and military officials. Vitio finally got to enjoy the sweet bliss of sitting on his bed, kicking off his slippers, and feeling the softness of the carpet beneath his feet.
“Late night after late night,” his wife, Delilah, said as she removed her earrings and placed them on the bedside table.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Vitio said.
“Such a maxim doesn’t sit well with me these days.”
Vitio hummed, turning to face his wife. Delilah got up and pulled back a corner of the satin sheets. The roots of her leafy green hair were starting to gray. Even she couldn’t muster up the energy to maintain an appearance she expected of herself. He smiled.
Raising her brows, her forehead crumpled. “And what’s that about?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Nothing,” he said. But the truth was that he appreciated everything about the woman’s beauty, and that included her age. They had grown old together, and there was nothing more beautiful than that.
“Get some sleep, Vitio.” She sighed, situating herself under the sheets. “You must leave early tomorrow morning if you want to make it to Phesaw on time. And we can’t have you dozing off during the summit.”
Vitio stood up and adjusted his side of the blankets. “I fear True Light isn’t as strong as SCAPD. I know Queen Apsa and King Supido are playing nice for now, but they’ve had distance to scab their wounds. Tomorrow they’ll be in the same room for the first time since Gray Whale took out those Adrenian vessels.”
“Sleep, dear,” she mumbled, already falling into a slumber herself.
As Vitio began to lie down, something tapped on the window. Delilah bolted upright, clearly startled. Vitio approached the window to see a falcon beating its massive wings against the night sky. He pushed open the glass, allowing the bird to fly inside. Delilah pulled her knees inward as the winged beast circled the room and perched itself on the bed frame.
Its head twitched in every direction. Hurrying to the bed, Vitio snatched up the rolled parchment that it had dropped onto the covers. Reading through it, a smile widened on his face. Ophala Vevlu was still alive. Not only that, but she had contrived a system of communication between dozens of power players who were previously unreachable without a Dev servant.
The Chronicle Page 1
