The Castaway King Chronicles
AFTER THE DARK
SPENCER LABBÉ
Little Pieces of Paper Publishing
Contents
The Castaway King Chronicles
1. Questions
2. The End
3. Endurance and Speed
4. Teamwork
5. Combat
6. The Beginning
7. Tomorrow
8. The Outside
9. Lost
10. Alone
11. The Chasm
12. The Light
13. The Song
14. Fairy
15. Taken
16. A Dagger
17. Brixton
18. Giants
19. Found
20. Traitor
21. Dead
22. Night
23. Southden
Acknowledgments
ABOUT SPENCER LABBÉ
ISBN 978-1-948208-02-4 (E-Book)
The Castaway King Chronicles: After the Dark -Book 1
Copyright © 2017 by Spencer Labbé
Cover design by Franziska Haase
Cover Illustration by Spencer Labbé
Edited by Erin Young
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information
Storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Little Pieces of Paper Publishing.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Spencer Labbé
Visit my website at www.TheCastawayKing.com
Second Edition: March 2018
Little Pieces of Paper Publishing
Printed in the United States of America
NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
For Sierra, the girl
for whom I live.
For Jo, who showed
me the way
and for those who believe,
you are not forgotten.
The Castaway King Chronicles
Book One:
AFTER THE DARK
1
Questions
A haze of dim purple light, and pain. The poverty in lower town was grim and bleak, cold and fearful. The constant fight — for food — for territory — for survival — was never-ending. Elfin should not live holed underground like this, thought Pil Persins as he stared out over his small town. It isn’t right… it isn’t natural...
“What are you thinking about?”
Pil turned. It was Felicity. She had climbed the dirt hill so quietly he hadn’t heard her approach. She sat down next to him and stared out over Westleton. He looked at her, her curly short hair with her pointed Elfin ears sticking out. Pil knew it was a deep shade of purple, but in the dim light it looked black. Even her sharp white features and her keen blue eyes were dimmed. What might she look like in the light?
“Everything…nothing,” Pil replied, relaxing his position to see her more clearly. “Do you ever think about how things look aboveground?”
Felicity laughed. She replied, shaking her head, “how many times have you asked me that? Of course I do. But it doesn’t matter; it’s too dangerous for us. I’d rather be safe in the dark than be hunted in the light. Besides, we have near-perfect night vision; it probably just looks a lot more purple.”
Pil smiled. “I know. I just wish things were different.”
“Who doesn’t?” she replied, turning to look at him. “Things are the way they are, nobody can change that; we just have to accept it and do our best.”
Pil looked up into the blackness of the dirt ceiling that surrounded their entire world. “I’m nervous,” he admitted, looking back down to see his friend smiling at him.
“We’re going to be fine. I promise. If I can do it, you can do it.”
“That’s not the same.” Pil smiled at her.
She looked quickly away. “Still — I believe in you, Pil. You’re going to do great things… And it’s been our dream since we were kids, right? Me, you, and Dirk?”
Pil sighed and sat back, staring out at Westleton. It’s pretty from a distance really, he thought. The lights look like stars.
Pil got clumsily to his feet. “You’re right, as usual.” He smiled and helped her up as well. “Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of our lives.” He paused. “I’ll be happier when it’s over, though.”
Felicity laughed. Her laugh was like the tinkling of wind chimes, so free and confident. “So will I — trust me. I think I have to worry more about Dirk than you, though.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s always been strong, even if he is a bit of a baby.”
Pil and Felicity made their way back down the steep hill of dirt and along the path to their village. They talked idly about when they were kids, the three best friends, kings of the urchins in the lower town. Things had seemed much simpler back then, the whole world was open to them, unlimited possibilities. Now the reality of adulthood was approaching, even if they were only seventeen. It seemed to Pil like a wall he had once assumed would be easy to climb, but now as he approached it he realized just how unprepared he was.
Pil said goodbye to Felicity at the gate; she left him feeling slightly more confident as he headed off in the other direction, towards his hovel. The buildings he passed grew steadily worse as he walked down the dirt road. The wood that made up the houses was old and greyed. But that was just one of the many perks of living in Westleton — everything was old.
Westleton was one of the three last Elfin towns. Like the other two, it was located deep underground and composed mostly of dirt and rotten wood. The vast empty space had been clawed out long ago and the broken-down buildings divided into three different sections: the Castle where the King lived, Mid-town, and lower town. The three communities lived starkly different lives. Lower town was home to thieves, beggars, and drunks. The fight for freedom was a bloody one, though of course there were no deaths. Elfin did not kill Elfin — the thought of it seemed foolish. The Elfin that populated the three separate mounds were the last of their kind. To dwindle that number would only hasten their extinction. Even still, thought Pil as he looked around at the deadened dirt street, if things don’t change… Well, he could think of more than a few Elfin in lower town that were prepared to kill to survive.
Pil’s house was one of the most worn-down buildings in all lower town, which was really quite impressive. Located in the very farthest corner of Westleton, his was the poorest community. Yet even among the poorest of families, Pil’s house stood out as the oldest and most unstable. It was like a large shack put together by somebody who didn’t have a very good concept of carpentry, held together with wood that was entirely too rotten.
Pil pushed open the door — which was uneven and too small for the frame — and walked into the house. He went left towards the living room; there was no question of where his family might be — as a rule, they stayed downstairs as often as possible. Each of their rooms was upstairs, but it was silently agreed that walking around upstairs might put too much of an unhealthy strain on the house.
“Quite a long walk you’ve been on,” said Pil’s father, Peri Persins, from his chair at the table. �
��Felicity came by. Told her you were out thinking, she’s a funny one, that one. She said, ‘He’s thinking? Okay, I’m worried!’ An’ ran right off.”
Pil smiled. “Yeah, I met her over on the hills. No need for her to worry, I think I’m done thinking.”
Mr. Persins laughed, then his face grew more serious. He had a very serious face when he needed it. His piercing blue-green eyes lost the wrinkles which outlined a smile he so often wore; and his brow furrowed so low, it looked as though his shaggy white hair would cover his face. “You don’ need to go through with this, son.” He stood up, looking awkward and unsure, like he wanted to force Pil to stay but knew he shouldn’t. “Look, Pil —”
“Pa’,” Pil cut him off quietly. He knew what his father would try and say. “I’m going to do it. I have to at least try.”
“I know you can do it, Pil!” said Peach brightly, popping around the corner with a tray in her hands. “You’re going to be just like Mom. You’re my big brother, after all! You can do anything.”
Pil looked down, embarrassed. His sister, Peach, who lived up to her name, was a short and cute little Elfin with curly light-pink hair — the only one in the family without the trademark white-blue hair. She always had an optimistic smile and bright personality. She gave him more confidence when he needed it, just like Felicity.
Pil smiled. “Thanks, Peach. I’m doing it for all of us, Pa’, not just me —”
“I know tha’, son, I know. It’s my pain from what happened to your mother tha’ gets me. I have faith in you — always have. But there are other ways. I can’ work anymore with my back, but there are jobs less dangerous …” Mr. Persins faltered, pleading softly with his eyes.
“Thanks, but I know what I want. My mind is already made up.”
Mr. Persins laughed sadly. “Agh, yer too much like your mother for your own good. I won’ bug you any more ’bout it now. Not much good it would do me, anyway. Let’s eat; you’re going to need your strength for tomorrow.”
Pil sat down and accepted a plate from Peach. “I am nervous, though,” he admitted. “I mean, becoming an Exidite — it’s dangerous.”
“’Course it is,” said Mr. Persins around a bite of bread. “They’re the heroes of Westleton, of all the Elfin mounds tha’ are left. It’s no’ meant to be easy, it’s meant to be fulfilling. After all, what point is there to livin’ if we aren’t all looking after each other? You know the Elfin way, ‘live for the whole or die alone.’”
Pil thought about this for a moment. Living for the whole was certainly important in lower town. The poverty-stricken community wouldn’t have lasted so long without the support of everyone working for the whole. But even still, some Elfin became downright vicious when confronted with insufficiency. Elfin don’t usually die young, but times were not easy — at least, not in lower town. Exidite was the way to get out of all that, to escape from the suffering.
“Did Mom ever say what the Exidite tests were?”
“Pil, how many times must you have asked me that, eh?” Peri Persins chuckled. “Your mother once told me, ‘Pil asks more questions than there are answers in this world.’ No’ much was she wrong about,” he said, wagging a piece of bread at Pil. He sat back and sighed, looking up. “As far as I can remember there are four tasks, and you only need to pass three to become an Entri.”
“Endurance & speed, teamwork, combat, and capability,” Pil recited. “But what are the tasks?”
“I dunno. Reckon only Exidite know that. What I do know is tha’ no one has ever passed the last task: capability. Not since Harlem Havok took over …”
Peach sighed wistfully. “Harlem. The greatest royal ever, even if he is a Prestige.”
“If you were only a bit older you could marry him and become Queen Peach. That would get us out of lower town.” Pil laughed as his sister stuck her tongue out at him. “I bet the prince already has a wife assigned to him, though.”
“Reckon you’re right ’bout that,” said Mr. Persins knowingly. “Royalty don’ go around marrying anything less than Prestige. Prestige aren’t even allowed to marry less than Prestige. But if yeh work hard, and become a top member of the Exidite, well, who knows …”
“Prestige can’t even marry normal Elfin?” Peach pouted. “What’s the difference between us and them?”
Pil smiled. “No difference, Peach,” Pil looked away in annoyance. “Though they act like they’re better…Well most of them…”
“Prestige are the descendants o’ the firs’ King’s royal court,” growled Peri Persins. “The firs’ court was powerful strong. They buil’ all the mounds — they deserve respect. Bu’ I won’ lie, they are a bit bigheaded on the whole.”
Pil snorted. “That’s an understatement.” He pushed back from the table. “I’m off to sleep. ’Night, you guys. Don’t wake up early to see me off,” he warned.
Knowing his family, they had probably been planning on waking up just to give him a couple more words of encouragement, even if they didn't want him to go. His family had always been very close-knit, ever since his mother, Persilla, had died in an Exidite mission when Pil was seven. It was then that he had decided to become an Exidite, to provide for his family. But somewhere, somewhere deep down, he also wanted the chance for revenge. To face the thing that had killed his mother, the nightmare of every Elfin child. If he could kill just one of them…but he wasn’t even sure what he might do if he came face-to-face with a creature such as that. A creature of pure evil, something bred to kill.
2
The End
Pil awoke early the next morning. The only way to tell it’s early when you live in almost complete darkness is by the lamps in the street. The long-necked lamps were made of see-stone, which changes color as the day goes by. As the day starts the lamps glow steadily more and more orange, by mid-day they glow bright red, and then finally they transition to purple, before dimming slowly to black.
Recruits for Exidite had always been expected to meet in Mid-Town by clear orange. Pil had been waking up on early orange every day for a month to make sure he would be up in time for the trials. He still had a restless night of tossing and turning, causing his rickety hammock, which hung across the two walls of his room, to creak with strain.
Pil got dressed in the usual Elfin attire: a tunic made of leaves and Foxfir, and shorts made of a short-trimmed purple Foxfir. He walked over to the looking glass attached to his wall and inspected the reflection, forcing himself to take deep even breaths. It was finally here, the day he had been preparing for since he was seven years old.
A small meek Elfin stared back at him from the glass. His rumpled white-blue hair was untidy as usual, just long enough for only the points of his Elfin ears to be seen. His pale skin and shining sky-blue eyes worked well together to create the illusion of a scared Elfing child. Pil sighed. He supposed it didn’t help this illusion much that he was barely any taller than his eleven-year-old sister.
Pil’s father and sister must have decided to sleep in as he had suggested; he saw no sign of them as he creaked his way downstairs. But as he crept out of the house he noticed a note tacked to the door that read: Try your best! We love you! — Peach & Pa’, written in Peach’s clean handwriting.
Pil pulled open the door and headed out into the dark. It was a chilly morning, the kind that forces you awake despite the early hour.
“Pil!” boomed a deep and familiar voice. Pil turned — it was his childhood friend Dunken Dirk. He was trotting down the street towards him, looking extremely anxious.
Dirk was the exact opposite of Pil. Where Pil was unusually short, Dirk was unusually tall, especially for an Elfin. And while Pil looked as though he might have missed a few too many meals, Dirk, on the other hand, looked as though he may have eaten more than his share. Altogether, Dirk gave off a slightly frightening impression. Pil knew better, though — Dirk was a big, clumsy, nervous, and extremely kind Elfin.
“Today’s the day,” said Pil as his friend caught up, slightly pa
nting from the effort of running.
“Y-yeah,” said Dirk, shifting awkwardly. "I'm a bit nervous, to be honest. What if I don’t make it?”
“You are going to be fine, Dirk. You can throw all those other Elfin kids around like rocks.”
“It’s not just strength we need, though. What if I suck? What if I don’t get in, and you and Felicity do? I dunno, Pil —”
“Dirk! Honestly, we’ll all get in. Today’s the day we have been working towards our whole lives.”
Dirk smiled nervously. His smile did not quite reach his black eyes.
“Yeah.” He looked ahead at the street they were walking down, broken and old. “This is our ticket out of this hell hole.”
“Yeah.” Pil looked ahead where lower town began and ended. It somehow seemed brighter on the other side. Or maybe the houses were simply better-taken care of in Mid-town, even if they were still quite old.
Pil smiled up at Dirk. Dunken Dirk, who went by just Dirk, had an even worse home life than Pil. Growing up in one of the worst parts of lower town just like Pil, Dirk had to learn how to survive on his own. His father was an abusive drunk who refused to work for any of his four children. Dirk’s older brother, Dax, was a digger. He worked digging out the tunnels that connected the different Elfin Mounds and exploring new regions for habitation.
After the Dark Page 1
