by M. L. Greye
The Other Worlds
m.l. greye
Copyright 2010 m.l. greye
Prequel to Ethon
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
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
About the Author
1
---------------
Adreli Reien. That was my mother’s name. Although I never knew her, she must have been great. She was born into an age when the Other Worlds were divided. Where there had once been peace and unity, the peoples of the Other Worlds were in three separate groups: Craeles, Saerds, and Eves.
The Craeles were physically half-human and half-animal. They possessed the ability of changing in and out of both their human and animal forms freely. The most prominent members were the Velvitors. At the time of my mother’s birth, not much was known about the Craeles. They generally kept to their towers and rituals – allies to none.
Saerds were the normal humans, the ungifted. They were the general population of the Other Worlds. Saerds were subject to none, unless their world had been claimed by the Kendren brothers. My mother’s world had not been claimed. She was a Saerdian heir - one of the last. After the death of her father, she became queen of Caprith. She grew up knowing she was to protect and lead her world at any cost, and she was prepared to do so. She was not prepared, however, to meet my father, an Eve.
Now, Eves were from the world of Evedon, yet they were not subject to live only there. Many worlds were known to have Eveon blood. Also, just as with the Saerds, there was an evil hand seeking conquest of the Eveon worlds. Its name was the Vrenyx. Its armies, known as the Nagreth, captured Eveon worlds one by one and joined them to the empire.
In this age of warfare and broken allies, my mother was born and raised. When she took the throne at age eighteen, she thought she was ready for anything. Yet, anything did not include the Eveon warrior and prince who suddenly appeared in her court. He said he was visiting to learn more of the Saerds. It did not take long for my young mother to fall in love. She and her Eve were wed just prior to her nineteenth birthday. Their marriage was the first of its kind in generations - two royals from completely different backgrounds. It also created the strongest tie between the Saerds and Eves since before the fall of Balinorre. Caprith soon became a world of both Saerds and Eves, which in turn created a generation of Wends.
I am a Wend, as is my twin. We are the children of both Saerd and Eve, half bloods. In the Other Worlds we were a rarity, but in Caprith we were many. We were an ancient breed, extinct after generations. With the uniting of Caprith and Evedon, though, we were renewed. Now, one would naturally assume that a Wend would only be half as gifted as the Eveon parent, as a Wend was only half Eveon. However, a Wend was not only just as gifted as the parent, a Wend was more so, far exceeding that of the parent and dangerous to have for an enemy.
From the marriage of my parents, Caprith was transformed from a world of Saerds to a world of Eveon majority. The transition caused my parents to contemplate the destinies of their children. They sensed their children would have much to do with the future of the Other Worlds. They were right. Not long after my brother and I reached our first birthday, the Vrenyx attacked Caprith. In an attempt to protect her children, my mother sent my brother and me into hiding. We were to become slaves in separate Kendren worlds, where we would not be found until the time we were to be set free and told of our true identity.
Moments after our escape, Caprith fell to the Vrenyx. My parents never saw us again.
2
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“Terry!” Hilda screamed into the kitchen. “Where are those dishes?”
“Sounds like the old one needs more sleep,” Terry muttered, dropping the large silver platter onto the counter in front of her.
Dainy stopped beside her and began filling the platter with bowls of steaming food. “You’re going to get it, Terry.” She glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen door. “She sounds real mad this time.”
“Oh, relax.” Terry laughed. “You know you’re only in trouble if-”
“TERRY!” Hilda shrieked. “If you don’t have those dishes in my hands within the next-” The rest of her words were lost to a huge pot clanging to the floor.
“She’s mad.” Terry winced.
Dainy shoved the full platter into Terry’s arms. “Go!”
Terry dashed through the giant kitchen that served the Lantz Decapron’s castle. As she ran, she nearly tripped three cooks and bumped into four servers. But luckily she managed to keep the food upright and on the platter. She smiled and slid to a stop in front of Hilda. The fat grouch yanked the platter out of her hands before haughtily rushing out to the Lantz’s banquet, reminding Terry of an over-stuffed peacock far beyond its prime.
“Terry,” Dainy called out from the back of the kitchen, “I still need you!”
“Be right there!” Terry spun on her heels back through the crowded maze of servants.
Three hours later, but what seemed more like twelve, Terry made her way up to the turret she shared with ten other slaves, including Dainy. Night had begun its cycle hours before, and Terry wished she had been sleeping for most of it. Her shoulders ached from carrying heavy trays, her legs from climbing sets of stairs, and her eyes from being open. At least the Lantz hadn’t ordered her to sing. Otherwise, her throat might have ached as well. For some reason, the Lentz - the Lantz’s wife - preferred Terry’s voice above all the other musicians hired for special occasions. She had the silly idea that Terry had the voice of an Eve, going so far as to call Terry’s talent a gift. It was only praise. Terry was a Saerd, completely and utterly giftless. If she were anything else, there would be no reason for her to waste time singing at the Lantz’s banquets and balls.
It wasn’t the singing that bothered Terry, though. In truth, she loved to perform. It got her out of the kitchen. No, it was being ordered to sing that Terry hated. As a slave, Terry had no say in what she could or could not do. If she was told to sing, then she sang. If she was ordered to walk across the battlements on a tightrope while barefoot, then she had better be shucking off her shoes. It was the life of an orphan in a Kendren world.
A generation or two before, the people of Devrin joined themselves with the Kendrens. Their leaders had decided that instead of waiting around for an attack they would simply volunteer themselves into the Kendren kingdom. As a reward, Devrin royalty kept their positions as sovereigns, only answering to the Kendren brothers. For the most part, Devrin was able to remain as its own entity. However, some traditions and laws of the Kendrens were adopted, such as the use of Arthelian. It had become the acknowledged language of the Saerds under Kendren rule. True Saerds still spoke Saerdian. It was a sort of common tongue between the Other Worlds. But the Kendrens saw it as lowly. They chose to enforce their own creation of Arthe
lian as the new Saerdian. Thus, Terry had been forced to learn Arthelian from birth. She hated Arthelian. It was tiring and unpleasant. Thankfully, slaves only had to use it when speaking to their possessors. In Devrin, those who spoke Arthelian had political status, such as the Lantz and Lentz.
Another tradition Devrins acquired from the Kendrens was the abolishment of orphanages. Instead of orphanages, orphans were given as slaves to the richer inhabitants. In Terry’s case, she had been placed with the Lantz as a toddler. She’d spent her known life within the walls of the Lantz’s castle. Sadly, she couldn’t remember anything of her parents or life as a free child, and unlike the slaves who sought to erase their pasts, it bothered her that she didn’t have a single memory to cling to.
Terry sighed as she continued up the stone stairwell, watching out for the broken sections of the steps. The Lantz’s castle wasn’t exactly in the best shape, but Terry blamed that on his place in the line for the throne. In the Other Worlds, the system of royalty fell from king and queen to the eldest heir, the prince or princess. Below the heir sat the siblings – the Lantzes and Lentzes. The Lantz Decapron was the second youngest in a long line of twelve. Terry highly doubted the Lantz would ever be anything more than a Lantz, unless a sudden plague destroyed his entire family. But a plague was more unlikely than the Lantz becoming king. Thus, the Lantz’s stairwells were to remain in disrepair. He did not have the means to fix them, especially those used only by slaves.
At last, Terry reached the top of the last set of stairs. She let out a soft cry of relief and pulled a torch out of its mount on the wall. As usual, she had been the first to leave for bed. With a yawn, she walked the short distance to the familiar oak door and pushed it open. She wasn’t surprised to find the room dark and empty, not that it mattered. She could walk the room blindfolded; she knew it far too well. Terry turned to the mount beside the door and slipped the torch into it. The torch offered her enough light to see the outlines of the beds. Terry yawned again and headed for her bed at the far end of the room.
She slipped out of her worn leather shoes before collapsing onto her bed, still fully clothed. Terry let out a soft groan and rolled onto her side. It took her about three more seconds to realize that she wasn’t alone. She jumped up with a shriek.
“Relax, he’s not going to bite you.”
Terry whirled just as Crena, the servants’ nurse, entered the room with a bundle in her arms. Terry stared at her. “Who is he?”
“A new slave,” she replied, dropping her armful at the foot of Terry’s bed. “I told the men this bed was taken, but they said you could sleep elsewhere.”
There was a surprise. Terry grunted. The men Crena referred to were the slave traders. They were given orphaned children and expected to place them in homes. Terry hated the looks they gave the older slave girls like herself. She didn’t like the smell of ale they always carried with them, but apparently others did. Some slave girls chose to marry them.
“I need you to roll him onto his back.” Crena’s voice brought back Terry’s attention.
She blinked and repeated her earlier question. “Who is he?”
“I think they called him Teve. An Edyrion clan leader traded him for food and supplies.”
“The Wanderers were here?” Terry had only seen them twice in her life. They did not stay in one world for long.
Crena nodded once as she yanked off the top of one of her bottles. “Roll him onto his back.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Terry pulled at his shoulder.
“He’s contracted a minor case of sleeping sickness.” She grabbed a spoon from her apron and poured a thick, dark liquid onto it. “It’s an agony to the body.”
“Sleeping causes pain?” Terry ran her eyes over his face. He seemed so familiar, like a character from a dream.
“This kind of sleep does. Instead of taking energy from sleep, sleep takes energy from you.” She frowned, her favorite expression. “If the boy’s not treated, he could die within a week from exhaustion. Now, hold him up enough for him to swallow without choking.”
Terry obeyed. “What is that?”
“Lythion.”
She blinked. “I thought that was used on horses, to ease their birthing pains.”
“Well, today it’s his medicine,” Crena retorted, holding the spoon to his lips. It spilt along the side of his mouth. Some of the mess must have made it inside, though, because almost instantly he began coughing and spluttering. Crena poured another spoonful and shoved it between his lips. “He should be awake enough now to swallow it,” she said, retrieving her spoon from his mouth. Terry noticed it was empty. Crena tucked the spoon back into her apron. “You can lay him back down now.”
“Will he be well again?”
“By morning.” Crena picked up her bundle. “Lythion has more than one use.” She frowned. “Get to bed.”
“Where?”
“In your bed. Where else?”
Terry stared at her. “But he’s in it.”
“He’s asleep. He won’t do anything to you.”
“But-”
“I have more sick servants to tend to tonight.” Crena cut her off. “I cannot cater to your needs. You have two options, the floor or your bed. Just be thankful that you can go to bed.” She began toward the room’s door, muttering, “I won’t get to see mine for at least three more hours.”
“Great.” Terry grunted. There was just enough room at the foot of her bed for her to curl up. She groaned and dropped onto it once more, hoping sleep would come fast.
* * * * * *
Sadree Ald shook her head. It had been some time since Olinia and Zedgry had turned fifteen. Their time to be freed had come. If only she could find them. She and her husband, Denon, had been searching for the young twins for months now. Yet, they were no closer to finding them than when they had first begun. Sadree was nearing defeat. When she and Denon had accepted the honor of freeing the children upon their fifteenth birthday, she had not expected the task to be so difficult. She and Denon were Eves after all. Should that not give them some sort of advantage? Apparently not.
“Anything new?”
She looked up from the desk in front of her. It was covered with maps of the Devrin world. Her husband, Denon, stood in the study’s doorway, watching her work. She frowned and shook her head. “Where else is there to look?”
Denon joined her at the desk. “We have yet to visit every section of Devrin.”
She nodded as he leaned forward over the desk, his eyes scanning the maps she had just been poring over. “What about that?” He asked after a moment.
Sadree glanced down at where he was pointing. “Gwenen?”
“Yes.” His brow furrowed. “It’s only a few miles wide.”
“It is the dwelling of one of the Lantzes,” Sadree replied. “It is his allotted land.”
“Have we been there?”
“If we have, I cannot remember it.”
Denon straightened. “Then perhaps we should go and refresh our memory.”
* * * * * *
“Terry, get up.”
“Hmm?” Terry recognized Dainy’s voice, but it took her a moment to realize what she had said. Terry groaned and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “Why?”
“Because it’s morning,” Dainy retorted. “We’ve got to get down to the kitchen, as always.”
Terry groaned again. “Just tell Hilda I’m sick. I’ve caught the sleeping sickness.” She smiled. Hilda would like that one.
“I’m not covering for you again.”
“Wait,” Terry opened her eyes, “is today Thursday?”
“No, Friday.”
“Yes!” Terry laughed and shut her eyes. “I’m off today.” Slaves were entitled two days a week as their own, as a break from their limitless chores.
Dainy stood from her bed and smoothed her dress with her hands, sighing. “Lucky.”
“Bye.” Terry smiled as her friend followed the other slaves down to their individual assig
nments.
A few moments later, the room was cleared out completely, leaving Terry alone. She loved Fridays. Out of the eleven slaves who shared her tower room, she was the only one to have Friday off, and she enjoyed every moment of her silence. Terry yawned, lowering herself back onto the foot of her bed. The new slave was still fast asleep on her pillow. She was contemplating getting into Dainy’s bed. Her night had been a rough one – tossing and turning for hours. It had only left her exhausted.
“Why didn’t you have to work today?”
Terry leapt off the bed just as the new slave pushed himself up. He raised one hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough.”
Terry lowered her eyebrows and took in his features. She guessed he was around her age by the look of him. His hair was a light brown with slight highlights throughout. Terry assumed he got those from his hours in the sun as an Edyrion. What really surprised her though were his eyes. They were a dark brown, same as hers. She had never seen anyone else with her eye color. She had figured herself to be the only one in Devrin with brown eyes.
“My name’s Teve.” He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth.
“I’m Terry,” she replied. Orphans didn’t have last names.
“Were you the one who helped me last night?” His skin was tan. Terry envied him of the time he must have spent outside. She hated always being cooped up in the castle’s kitchen.
“Yes, I was with Crena.”
“Who’s Crena?”
“The servants’ nurse.” Her eyes moved from his face to his bare chest. He was much more muscular than she would have expected, but then, he was an Edyrion.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“Don’t know. You’ve only been here a-” She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes landed on his right shoulder. She gaped. There was no way he could be…
“What’s wrong?” He frowned.
