The Other Worlds (The Other Worlds Series Book 1)

by M. L. Greye

“You-” She took a step closer to him, her hand unconsciously raising – reaching out for his silver birthmark.

  In the Other Worlds, twins had matching birthmarks. Their marks came in many different shapes, but all the same color and in the same place. They were silver and sat on the shoulder, just below the neck. However, the birth order of a twin determined on which shoulder the mark was situated. On the left signified the elder twin. Teve’s was on his right, meaning he was younger.

  Terry rested one knee on her bed as her fingers brushed over Teve’s skin. He blinked up at her. “Have you never seen one before?”

  “No,” Terry let out a short laugh, “I’ve seen many a twin before.”

  “Then, what’s the matter?”

  “I’ve seen your mark before.” She smiled slightly. “I know who matches you.”

  “You know my twin?” Teve’s eyes widened.

  She nodded.

  Teve paused for a moment. Then, “Can I see yours?” Teve slowly lifted his hand to pull at the neckline of her dress, revealing her shoulder to him.

  She laughed as his fingers slid over her mark just as she had done to his. “It’s the same.”

  He stared at her. “You’re my twin?”

  She grinned. “Nice to meet you, Teve.”

  * * * * * *

  “Forgive me, but where was it you said you were from?”

  The Lentz had asked politely enough, but Sadree caught the distaste in her voice. Sadree forced a smile. “I am from a place called Sivean, m’lady.”

  “Far from here?”

  “Very.”

  “Oh.” The Lentz took another sip of her tea, giving Sadree enough time to look around the parlor.

  It was actually rather small. Sadree guessed this was the parlor the Lentz used to greet unimportant guests. It was on the darker side, having only one window and an unlit fireplace. Had it been lit, though, the room would have been sweltering. Devrin summers were mild, but not cool enough for a fire during the day.

  “So what brings you to Devrin?” The Lentz asked after a moment.

  Sadree set her teacup into its saucer. “We may be interested in buying some of your slaves.”

  “Indeed!” The Lentz tried to hide her surprise, but it was to be expected. In Devrin, slaves were not sold. Although it was not unheard of, it was rarely done. It was simply easier to receive slaves as newly orphaned from the traders. Slaves in Devrin served the same household they were taken to at the death of their parents until they claimed their freedom on their seventeenth birthday – their first day of adulthood.

  “Indeed, m'lady.”

  About three floors above Sadree’s head, Denon was climbing up a particularly long stairwell, alongside the Lantz Decapron and his steward. The Lantz was informing Denon of his many noble siblings, without noticing the lack of interest from his companions on such a topic. They were on their way to another turret that served as the slaves’ quarters. This was their second turret – the first had been devoid of any living soul. Denon frowned as he continued his flight, while the Lantz droned on without the need to draw breath.

  At last they reached the top of the stairs and entered the circular, stone room through its open door. The chamber was surprisingly well lit. Light streamed down from long slits on the walls located high above their heads, near the ceiling. Upon their entrance, a pair of slaves at the far end of the room jumped to their feet. Denon furrowed his eyebrows. The boy and girl wore the dull gray garb of older slaves, but they did not drop their heads as other slaves did when in the presence of their possessors. Was there a resemblance between the two, or was he imagining it?

  “Excuse me, milord,” Denon interrupted the Lantz mid-sentence. “May I speak with your slaves?”

  The Lantz searched the empty room until his eyes landed on the pair. He blinked, as if surprised to see them, before turning to his steward. “Call them to us.”

  The steward motioned towards them, but instead of using Arthelian as the Lantz had been, he ordered in Saerdian, “Come, slaves.”

  The two began forward together after a moment’s hesitation. When they reached the appropriate distance of five feet between slave and possessor, they dropped to their knees, as was required. Denon noticed them both clench their fists simultaneously. The steward stepped forward and cupped the girl’s chin with his hand.

  “This is Terry,” he said. “She is a fine scullery maid with a voice as lovely as her face.” Denon watched as the girl gritted her teeth. The steward then turned his attention to the boy. “The other is a new slave, traded from an Edyrion clan.”

  Denon nodded once. “Thank you. I would like to question them in private.”

  “Very well.” The Lantz shrugged, laying his hands across his round belly. “My steward and I will wait for you at the stairs.”

  Denon waited for them to exit before he crouched down in front of them. He smiled and said the Devrin greeting in Saerdian, “Fine weather on any day.”

  The girl stared at him. He could have raised them to their feet, but instead he lowered himself to their level. “You wish to speak with slaves, sir?”

  “Yes,” Denon nodded, “I’m searching for a set of twins. Do you happen to know any?”

  The two exchanged glances. Then, the boy answered, “We’re twins.”

  Denon smiled. “Would you mind showing me your birthmarks?”

  The boy removed his tunic, while the girl pulled down her neckline. Denon sank to his knees. There it was. The Balnorrean Knot. The ancient symbol that had once rallied entire worlds. Denon felt as if a massive burden had been suddenly lifted from his shoulders. The hope of the Other Worlds and heirs to Caprith were kneeling before him. Denon unconsciously released a sigh of relief. Then, “How would you like to be free?”

  The girl blinked. “What?”

  * * * * * *

  Will Patten watched the rain hit the pond below his window. It’d been three months to the day. Three months. Will ran a hand through his hair as the pain rose up again in his throat. Three months ago he had been fine with the way his life was going. Three months ago he’d been attending a great university, on his way into medical school. His grades had been perfect. He’d just been accepted into his father’s Alma Mater, the University of Southern California, in his beautiful home state. Three months ago, he’d intended to start there the following fall. But then, three months ago he’d still wanted to be a doctor.

  “Will?”

  He turned to find his great-grandfather’s housekeeper standing in his bedroom’s doorway. “Yes, Milly?”

  “Come down to the kitchen,” she said in her crisp British accent. “I’ve made some sandwiches and warmed up some milk.”

  Will straightened. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

  Milly gave him a small smile. She was in her mid-thirties and had young blue eyes. “Alright.”

  He watched her leave, but didn’t move for a moment. Truthfully, he wasn’t at all hungry – hadn’t been for months now. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t eat. But Milly had kept her eye on him since he had arrived. She was always making sure he ate something at the right hours. Will furrowed his eyebrows. He wondered if his great-grandfather had mentioned feeding him as a new duty for her. Will let his breath out in a rush. He took one last glance out the window at the rain and followed Milly to the kitchen.

  Once downstairs and fed, Will moved his attention outside, still remaining in the kitchen nook of his new home. He felt bored but didn’t have the drive to find something to do. From his seat at the table, he peered out into the woods behind the house. They drew his attention, as if offering him sanctuary amid their quiet expanse. He might go out once it stopped raining. One plus about living in the country was that no one was ever around to bother you.

  “I see you fancy my woods.”

  Will turned as his great-grandfather, Trenton Alridge, sat down across from him. He hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen.

  “Well, lad?” Trenton watched him expectantly.
/>   “The trees look old,” Will finally said.

  “That’s because they are old.” Trenton leaned back in his seat, his gray eyes sparkling. “They were even old at the time of King Arthur. Legend has it that men used those woods as a crossing into another realm, one of faeries and magic, just brimming over with adventures.” He smiled. “Go on out to them, lad. Catch yourself a faery.”

  Will stared at his only living relative through assessing eyes. Trenton was ninety-four, but from the way he looked and acted, no one would know it. He looked seventy and moved like he was fifty. He’d once told Will that he gave England’s countryside the credit for his good health. But he had winked, which made Will think otherwise.

  Trenton was watching Will expectantly again, so he said, “It’s raining, Grandpa.”

  “Now, where’s your sense of adventure?” Trenton glanced out at the trees. “Will, those trees don’t call very often; when they do, you need to answer. Otherwise, you miss your opportunity.”

  “Opportunity for what?”

  The stormy eyes that Will had inherited turned toward him, and in his rich accent, Trenton replied, “The opportunity for greatness, my boy.”

  “Greatness? In the woods?”

  The old man chuckled. “Why not? Use your imagination. Go out and fight a dragon.” Will blinked, but when he didn’t respond, Trenton said, “Alright then, stay inside. I’ll just sit and keep you company.” He grinned and adjusted his weight in his chair.

  “I’ll go out later, Grandpa.”

  “Then I’ll just keep you company until you do,” he repeated, his eyes sparkling.

  Will let his breath out in a rush. He knew Trenton wouldn’t stop pestering him until he consented. Will glanced out the window once more and then stood. “I’ll go grab a sweatshirt.” The rain seemed to be clearing up somewhat anyway, and he didn’t need to stay out for too long.

  “Good.” His great-grandfather stood as well. “Enjoy yourself, Will.”

  He nodded and headed towards the kitchen staircase leading back up to his room. “Lad,” he turned back to Trenton, “don’t feel like you need to hurry home if you wish to stay.”

  Will furrowed his eyebrows but only nodded. As he began his way up the stairs, he thought he heard Trenton whisper, “Goodbye, lad. Catch yourself a faery.”

  3

  ---------------

  A full turn and a half had passed. Olinia was now seventeen, an adult. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had called her Terry. It must have been on the day she’d left Devrin. That seemed so long ago now. She was Olinia Reien, princess of Caprith. She was royal by blood, and by birthright she was to be queen. Her parents had left her a world to rule and to love. There was just one slight problem. Her world was currently under Vrenyx control. In order for her to claim her throne, she would have to fight to free it.

  As if overnight, her enemy changed from Hilda, kitchen monarch, to Dagon, emperor of the Vrenyx. Fortunately, Olinia had Sadree and Denon as her guardians and mentors. Since the moment she had been set free, she had been under their care and instruction. It was from their countless lessons that Olinia had learned the Eveon ways, as well as basic warfare. She could now handle a sword well enough that when placed in harm’s way, she could defend herself. Her brother, Zedgry (once known as Teve), and Denon had praised her new skill as satisfactory, even though Zedgry could best her every time. But then, Zedgry had been taught the sword since he had been able to lift one. The Edyrions were great warriors.

  It was their skill with a blade that got them their food. They were wonderful mercenaries. By the time Zedgry was traded to the Lantz, he had already participated in a number of battles for different lords. He fought in whichever battle paid his possessor most. Unlike many slaves though, Zedgry continued to live. Thus, with age and experience, he grew in skill as well as in cost. Just before he had taken ill from the sleeping sickness, Zedgry had been a favorite with his possessor, showing the most potential. His possessor had been sad to trade him, but no Edyrion clan could keep a sick slave. They were always moving from place to place.

  Olinia smiled to herself. She was still ecstatic over her own freedom. She would forever be in Sadree and Denon’s debt, but not just for their rescue from the Lantz. They had been the ones to inform her of her true lineage and what she had inherited from it. Olinia was a Wend. All her life, Olinia had considered herself a Saerd. She’d never done anything to convince her otherwise. Sure, she’d had some experiences she couldn’t explain, such as her ability to not be seen whenever she wished to sneak by Hilda or how she had learned to ride a horse within a few moments of instruction. She just always attributed it to luck. She never once assumed she was anything other than Saerdian. Yet she had always been a Wend, the most gifted of the gifted.

  Through Sadree and Denon’s careful tutoring, Olinia had come to know of her true potential. The past turn and a half had been filled with experimenting and much practice to master her gifts. Fortunately for her, the gifts had come easily, as if acquiring them were second nature. All she would have to do was focus her mind and let her senses do the rest.

  The moving of objects through the air without ever laying a finger on them had been her easiest practice sessions, while complete invisibility and Globing had been her hardest. Not all Eves could turn invisible, and few could reach soundless and shadowless invisibility. But she could. It had taken her the better part of a turn. After working at it everyday, she had finally claimed the gift as her own. Globing, on the other hand, was another story. It involved the use of time, sense, memory, and foresight.

  Before beginning instruction in Globing, she had to have extraordinary senses. She needed to be able to know the thoughts and feelings of those around her without ever speaking a word to them, including communicating over great distances. This was the gift of sensory. For Olinia, sensory had come easy and quickly. Now she could even send her thoughts through worlds, a rare strength that neither Sadree nor Denon could match. Along with sensory, though, Olinia needed to bend time. This was where she struggled.

  To Globe was to literally create a globe around oneself. It was to open a scene from a dream, memory, place, or vision with just a wave of the hand, urging the scene outward through the fingertips. Globing was the rarest of gifts due to its heavy reliance on time. For an Eve who had not been born in Time – the world of the Fraers and Equilan – the ability to command time was difficult to acquire. There were few Eves who attempted it, and even less used it in Globing. For in order to Globe, one needed to pause time. Just to learn how to do so could take an Eve decades. As a Wend, it took Olinia only ten months to get comfortable enough to use it at will. Following her months of preparation, Olinia had finally been able to begin her training in Globing. That was four months earlier. Only now was she just beginning to Globe without it draining her entirely of her energy.

  Zedgry’s gifts were different. Unlike her, he struggled in mastering even the most basic of gifts. It often surprised her at how long it took him to obtain a gift that had taken her only a few short hours. He was a Wend too, same as her. Shouldn’t he learn at the speed she had? Or maybe he was going at the average speed and she was the one that was strange.

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead with one hand. It was a topic she thought far too much on. She had brought it up to Sadree once, but the Eve had simply answered that she and Zedgry learned differently, pointing out that even though it took Zedgry longer than Olinia he eventually mastered the same gift.

  Olinia rolled onto her back from her stomach. She was lying at the side of a stream on a flat boulder. The stream was only a twenty-minute walk from the tree her current home was carved into. Olinia let out a short laugh at the memory of when she had first arrived in the hidden world of Sivean, all wide-eyed and staring. She hadn’t been able to help herself. Sivean was breathtaking. The entire world was a forest, filled with ancient trees, vines, and moss. The trees were what Olinia loved most. They were huge, dwarfing the Lantz’s cast
le at its highest peak by at least a hundred feet. She was always wondering at exactly how tall the trees were. Their trunks were less of a mystery, but still hard to measure. For just one tree it had taken Olinia twenty minutes to walk the perimeter of its trunk. The tree’s massive size had come as a surprise to Olinia since in Sivean there was no sun. Apparently, these trees grew by moonlight. In Sivean, the only natural light came from the moon and stars. But the main source Olinia used was the little creatures called Astrilites.

  Astrilites were the size of humming birds, but had human forms. They spoke their own little language and had sparkling wings in different shades of gold. Their tiny clothes were golden leaves that shimmered even in the dark, while their golden hair glimmered and gleamed as well. They were playful creatures that delighted most in giving light to their world, for when they beat their wings together, light streamed outward. Olinia preferred their light over any candle or torch, and all she had to do was clap her hands for them to come to her aid. Sadree called them the guardians of Sivean because they tended Sivean’s inhabitants.

  Olinia sighed and pushed herself up, gazing down at the stream’s surface. Sadree and Denon were planning to leave Sivean soon. They said it was almost time for them to return to their home of Evedon. This meant it was almost time for Olinia and Zedgry to begin their quest of destroying the Vrenyx. How they were to do so though, Olinia wasn’t quite sure. Sadree had mentioned uniting the Silver Hearts, who were said to be indestructible when brought together. But Olinia had grown up thinking the Silver Hearts were nothing more than folklore. She wondered if they still existed.

  The task in itself was somewhat overwhelming. She had never dreamed of being involved in such an adventure. She had been raised a slave, lower than servants, barely higher than dogs. Her upbringing had been one of Kendren “charity” which meant she was left to fend for herself. Her one expectation in life had been to be freed at seventeen and then to find work as a scullery maid. She had never once imagined herself as a princess, maybe a wealthy lady, but never a princess. But, oh, how wonderful it felt! She was finally able to be herself all the time, no more pretending to be compliant. She could now do as she pleased instead of what others ordered her to do. Olinia smiled to herself, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. Her life had taken a dramatic change for the better.