The Godling Chronicles 02 - Of Gods And Elves
Page 1
The Godling Chronicles (Of Gods and Elves, Book #2)
by
Brian D. Anderson
Original Concept: Jonathan Anderson
The Godling Chronicles (Book Two) Of Gods and Elves
By
Brian D. Anderson
Original concept by Jonathan Anderson
Copyright © Brian D. Anderson 2012
Cover Design Salinde
Published by Mythos Press (An Imprint of GMTA Publishing)
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.
Contact GMTA Publishing, 2206 Wingate Road, Fayetteville, NC 28304
Printed in the U.S.A.
ISBN-13: 978-0615710044
ISBN-10: 0615710042
Dedication
In loving memory of Magdaline Panagos (1923-2006)
Prologue
Gewey felt cold, smooth stone pressed against his face, and a terrible wind roared in his ears. He opened his eyes. Nothing but pitch-blackness surrounded him. He remembered his fight with Harlondo. He felt his body searching for wounds the half-man had inflicted. No injuries!
“We have healed you,” said a voice from the darkness. It was soft and musical but neither male nor female.
Gewey tried to tell where the voice originated from, but it was as if it came from everywhere.
“Where am I?” He got to his feet as his voice echoed. “Who are you?”
“You are home,” said the voice. “You are with us. We have been waiting so very long.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“There is plenty of time for questions. For now you must take your ease.”
A light appeared, piercing the darkness several yards away. He stood on a raised stone walkway, surrounded by pure nothingness that went on forever. The only other thing he could see was a silver door at the end of the path. Gewey crept forward, careful not to step to close to the edge.
When he was only a few feet away the door opened, and the light dimmed.
“What’s in there?” he asked but received no reply.
He stepped inside the door and found himself in his own house. A fire burned cheerfully, and a hot plate of roast lamb and honey-split bread were on the table. Harman Stedding, his father, sat at the far end of the table smiling at him.
“Finally,” said Harman. “Did you have a good day?”
Gewey turned pale and tried to back out of the door, but it was no longer there.
“What's wrong, son?” Harman asked.
His father was just as he remembered him, tall, and lean with salt and pepper hair. Gewey had always thought he looked more like a teacher than a farmer. He wore the green linen shirt and trousers that he always had worn in the evenings after the day’s work.
“Who are you?” Gewey demanded. He reached for his sword, but it was no longer at his side.
Harman looked concerned and tried to walk over to him, but Gewey ran to the other end of the table looking for something to use as a weapon.
Harman sighed, shaking his head. “He told me this might happen. Gewey let me explain.”
“Explain what? You’re not my father. My father is dead.”
Harman backed away. “Son, please. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Let me help you.”
“Liar! Get away from me.” He found a knife on the table and snatched it up.
Fear struck Harman’s face. “If you’ll just let me speak to you for one second.”
Gewey tried to calm himself and focus. “Speak,” he growled. “But if you come near me, I swear
I’ll kill you.”
Harman slowly pulled up a chair and motioned for Gewey to sit as well, but Gewey backed away and put himself near the front door.
“You’ve been ill,” said Harman. “Very ill. Lord Starfinder took you to Gath for treatment.
You’ve been back for three days now.”
“Gath, eh,” said Gewey. “I was in Gath with Lee, and so far that's the only true thing you’ve said.”
“I’m not lying, son. This is the third time you’ve lost your memory since you’ve been back. It’s the medicine they gave you. Lee told me that the healer said this might happen.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Gewey snorted. “You’ve been dead for two years. I buried you myself.”
“Your fever is causing you to hallucinate,” said Harman. “Last time you lost your memory you thought you were a God. You even told me I wasn’t really your father.”
Gewey glared. “This won’t work. Tell me the truth, or I'll gut you right now.”
Harman bowed his head. “You’re not going to make this easy are you? We really hoped being here, and seeing your father alive and happy would be enough for you just to accept this.”
Gewey raised his knife and readied himself to attack. “What are you?”
“I’m here to care for you,” he answered. “You are with us now. Your body has been left behind.”
“My body? What have you done to my body?”
“Your body was destroyed. Only your spirit remains. However, you shouldn’t fear, we love you, and we will care for you. Anything you want is yours.”
“You still haven’t told me who you are?”
“We are the first,” he replied. “We are the lovers of the Gods. We have been waiting for you. We love you.”
“Return me to my body now,” Gewey demanded. “You can’t keep me here. You don’t have the right.”
“I cannot return you,” said Harman. “Please don’t worry. Soon you will forget about the troubles of that other world. Here you can be anything you wish. All we ask is that you love us as your kin had once done.”
“My kin? You mean the Gods? What do you know about them?”
“We were favored by them, above all others. When the Dark One trapped them, we were left all alone. We had you once and should not have let you go. But we were betrayed.”
“You’re not making sense,” said Gewey. “Who betrayed you?”
“Felsafell,” he said bitterly. “He convinced us to let you go. Then he left us too.”
“You’re spirits. That’s what you are. What do you want from me? I have nothing to give you.”
“We only desire your love,” he said. “It is everything to us. We need it. We are so lonely.”
“I cannot stay with you,” said Gewey as he moved to the door. “I don’t belong here.”
“You cannot leave,” cried Harman. “There is nowhere to run. Soon you will forget. Soon you will love us as we love you.”
Gewey couldn’t help but feel pity for the creature, but he knew he had to get away. He opened the door and ran from the house. The figure of his father appeared in front of him.
“Get away from me,” screamed Gewey. “Let me go.” He pushed his way past the spirit and ran in the direction of town.
“You are with us.” The voice of the spirit carried on the wind, following him as he ran.
Gewey ran until his legs burned. When he reached the village all the familiar faces he knew as a child were there to greet him, but Gewey ignored them and made his way toward Lee’s house.
The trees and bru
sh whizzed by as he ran at full speed down one of the many roads Lee had built. Gewey stumbled to a halt. He couldn’t remember why he was running or where he was going.
“Wait up.” His father ran up from behind. “I’m too old to keep up with you anymore.”
Gewey stood there scratching his head. “What happened?” he asked. “Why was I running?”
“We’re going fishing,” Harman replied. “Don’t you remember?”
It was then Gewey realized he was holding a fishing pole in his right hand. Harman carried one as well, along with a bucket of bait in the other.
“Yes,” said Gewey after a long pause. “Of course, I do. I’m sorry, I was just confused.”
Harman smiled warmly and threw his arm around Gewey’s shoulder. “That’s alright, son.” He laughed. “It happens to everybody.”
Gewey and his father walked for about three miles, to a spot along the Goodbranch River where they had fished since he was a small boy. The sun shone brightly, and the birds chirped merrily, as father and son sat on the bank near a large oak and fished throughout the day.
Gewey landed three nice-sized trout and Harman four others. His father always had better luck at fishing. As the sun began to sink closer to the horizon, Gewey lay back on the grass and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.
“Are you happy, son?” his father asked.
Gewey looked at Harman mildly surprised. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m glad.” He stretched his arms with a satisfied moan. “I think it’s time we go home and eat some fish.”
It was nearly dark when they arrived back at the farm. Gewey cleaned the fish on a wooden table next to the house, while his father prepared the stove and wash water inside. After they had both cleaned up and cooked dinner they sat down to eat. The fish tasted better than any Gewey could remember.
“I have a surprise,” said Harman, as he got up and brought a pitcher down from the cabinet. Gewey could smell orange juice as his father placed it on the table.
“Where did you get that?” asked Gewey.
Harman just smiled and poured Gewey a cup. “My little secret.” He winked and returned to the chair.
There was a knock at the door. Harman sprung up and looked out the window.
“Who is it?” asked Gewey.
“It’s no one. No one at all.”
“No one? Someone knocked.” He got up and started to the door. Harman rushed in front of him, barring Gewey’s way.
“I said it was no one,” said Harman, this time with more force. Again, there was a knock.
“What wrong with you?” said Gewey. “Why won’t you open the door?” Gewey tried to push his way around his father, but Harman shoved him hard, sending him flying across the room and crashing into the wall.
“I said leave it!”
Gewey stared in horror as his father changed and distorted, until he became a creature of quivering mass and swirling colors. “What are you?”
“She doesn’t belong here,” cried the creature. Its voice echoed loudly. “She must leave.”
Gewey felt panic grip him as the creature closed in. He bolted around the table and tried to get to the door, but the creature got there first. “You must stay. We love you.”
Gewey slowly backed away until he stood next to the window. He propelled his body through the glass and onto the porch.
“Gewey,” a familiar voice called out.
Gewey tried to focus, but the world around him blurred. “Who’s there?” he cried as he tried to regain his feet. A figure stood in front of him, but he couldn’t tell who or what it was.
“It’s me, Kaylia.”
As soon as he heard her name, it all came back to him and the figure cleared revealing Kaylia dressed in the same shirt and trousers in which he had met her in the forest for the first time. “Kaylia,” he cried, his voice filled with relief and joy.
She took his hand and pulled him from the porch. “Hurry,” she ordered. “We must get out of here.”
The door to the house shattered, splinters flying. Gewey and Kaylia ran as fast as they could, not paying attention to where they were going.
“You must not leave!” the creature screamed as it pursued them. It appeared to float just above the ground.
“Where are we going?” asked Gewey as they ran.
“How should I know? Anywhere but here.”
Gewey nodded in agreement, and they headed down the road east, away from town. After a few minutes, Gewey glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t see any sign of pursuit. “Hold on.” Gewey grabbed Kaylia’s arm and came to a halt.
“We need to keep going,” she said.
“But where? I don’t even know where we are; let alone where we should go.”
“We’re in the spirit realm.” Kaylia looked around for signs of the creature. “You became trapped here after your battle with Harlondo.”
“The spirit realm?” said Gewey frowning. “Then how are you here?”
“We took you to Valshara to be healed. But your spirit was lost. I used our bond to find you.”
“Valshara,” whispered Gewey. “How long have I been here?”
“Not long,” she said. “Two days. But time may not flow the same here. For all I know we’ve both been here for weeks…even months.”
“How do we get out?”
“You don’t,” called a voice from behind them. They turned and saw the form of Gewey’s father smiling at them.
“Who are you?” Gewey demanded. “And why are you keeping us here?”
“We did not bring her.” said Harman, looking at Kaylia. “We only want you. She does not belong here. She must leave.”
“We will both be leaving,” said Gewey. “Release us.”
“I cannot,” he replied. “We need you here. We have been so alone.”
“What are you?” asked Kaylia.
“We will not speak with you,” said Harman. His hand flashed from his side, and a dagger flew through the air at Kaylia’s heart.
Gewey shoved her out of the way just in time, and the dagger buried itself deep in his arm. Pain shot through him as he fell to his knees. Kaylia rushed over and pulled out the blade. Blood soaked his sleeve and dripped from the ends of his fingers.
“That was foolish,” scolded Harman. “But no matter.” He waived his hand, and the wound was gone. “You will come to no harm, but she must be destroyed. You cannot stop this.”
Gewey stared in amazement at where the dagger had struck. “If you hurt her I’ll kill you all.” He got to his feet and squared his shoulders.
Harman looked amused. “You cannot kill us. The dead cannot die.” He stepped towards Kaylia menacingly.
There was a blinding flash of light. When Gewey’s eyes adjusted, he gasped. Felsafell stood between Harman and Kaylia. He was dressed in his animal skins and carried his walking stick.
“Leave her be,” Felsafell commanded.
Harman’s face twisted in anger. “Traitor!” he shouted. “Leave this place!”
Gewey looked in Kaylia's eyes and smiled. “Are you okay?”
Kaylia nodded, still staring at the scene.
“Your heart is rotten,” said Felsafell. “It’s rotten and cold. You take what is not yours. You seal your own doom. Yes, you do.”
“You left us,” said Harman. “You broke your promise.”
“There was no promise,” Felsafell replied. “Oh, no. You are doomed and foul. I no longer care for your words. Our people are gone, and I will join you soon enough.”
“We will not let him go.” Harman clenched his jaw. “You can’t make us.”
Felsafell shook his head slowly. “I can’t make you. But I’ll tell him not to love you. Yes, I will. You’ll still be alone. Alone forever. Unloved and alone.”
“I will never love you,” cried Gewey. “Not if you hurt Kaylia.”
Harman shifted his eyes to Gewey. “You will love us,” he said. “Your father and mother loved us. So
will you.”
“You’re wrong,” said Gewey. “But I will release my mother and father. Then you can be with them again.”
“You see,” said Felsafell. “You are a fool. The fool of fools. You keep the one who can give you love, but if you do he will never love you.”
Harman turned his back and lowered his head. “Will you return to us, brother?” he asked.
Felsafell walked up and placed his withered hand on Harman’s shoulder. “I cannot. I must help free the fathers and mothers. And more there is to do for me. But I will join you soon enough.”
Gewey watched as Harman faded and disappeared. ”What happened?” he asked. “Is he gone?”
“Gone?” Felsafell replied. “No, not gone. Just far away.”
“Thank you,” said Kaylia. “I owe you a debt.”
Felsafell smiled. “You will repay,” he said. “Oh, yes. Then I can rest old bones and tired head.”
Chapter One
Millet, Maybell and Malstisos made their way toward Hazrah. The first snows began to fall just as they had rounded the western end of the Razor Edge Mountains. Luckily, the snow was light and didn’t bar their way, but Millet feared for Maybell’s health nonetheless. As strong as she was, he knew the long days of travel and the cold weather took a toll on her aging body. He and Malstisos kept a close eye on her and did their best to lighten her burden, though she didn’t make it easy for them. Maybell had an annoying habit of taking on extra work, especially if they tried to do anything she saw as her duties.
Aside from the dropping temperatures and light snow, travel was pleasant. Malstisos was open, friendly, and free with his humor. Millet couldn’t help being pleased to have him along, and his skill as a hunter came in handy, as did his ability to know when harsh weather was coming.
They had done well avoiding other travelers, and only once had they been forced to seek shelter at a village inn. Malstisos insisted on accompanying them, stating his desire to see humans from other parts of the world. At first Millet and Maybell objected, but soon realized that he could remain unnoticed even in a crowded tavern.
They were three days outside of Hazrah when they encountered the first indication that things had changed in the north since Millet had last been there. Malstisos stopped abruptly and led Millet and Maybell into the nearby brush.