Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1)
Page 1
Beyond the Core
K. R. Cunningham
Contents
Kingdom of Milarc map
Prologue
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About K. R. Cunningham
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by K.R. Cunningham
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address:
https://krcunninghambooks.com/
First e-book edition July 2021
Book design by Whimsy Book Cover graphics
Edited by Leanne Felton
Map created with Inkarnate
Printed in the United States of America
Formatted by Dragon Realm Press
http://DragonRealmPress.com
For mom and dad
Kingdom of Milarc map
Prologue
Elian glanced down the long, dim tunnel. Torches lined the passage, spreading firelight throughout. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding. The narrow corridor took the breath from his lungs.
“Pardon me, Elian,” muttered one of the council masters as he sidestepped him. Another man followed close behind.
“Apologies.” Elian cleared his throat, tugging at the soft fabric of his collar. The stuffy air was beginning to choke him. The deeper he descended within the catacombs beneath the citadel, the more tense he became. He shifted his eyes to the rocky walls of the tunnel glittering in the low light.
In front of him, the two masters padded along quietly in the dark green robes of the Council of Alacor. Embroidered threads of gold, the work of the finest tailors in all of Milarc, ran smoothly along their sleeves. Trailing behind Elian were the other two masters, whispering to each other as they shuffled along.
“If I eat that, I’ll get the burn for sure,” whispered Master Ormus in his mousy voice.
“I have a good medicine for afterward,” Master Sybil said deeply. “I’ll get you some after the ritual.”
“Oh, how indebted I’d be,” Ormus said, and chuckled.
Before long, the faint glow of mushrooms illuminated the walls and they came to a stone bridge that passed over a stream. Elian looked beyond the bridge as he crossed. Beyond the stream lay an elaborate labyrinth of tunnels from centuries back. It was said that the city of Alacor was built on the ruins of an ancient temple. Elian knew if one were to follow the stream downward, they would become lost within the depths below where skeletons lay beneath the surface of the freezing water.
At last, they reached two wide wooden doors. Elian remained quiet as he came into the catacomb’s deepest chamber, a lone circular room with a simple podium near the far wall. Hundreds of white candles lined the walls, the wax buildup of many decades serving as holders for new ones. In the middle was a circle drawn in white paint, where symbols of a language lost to all, save for Elder Auran and elite scholars of the citadel, spiraled outward to the edge of the room.
Elian stood to the side with the two chattering masters in a space untouched by the design. The others stood on the other side of the room, waiting.
“If this ritual fails, we’ll have to keep closer tabs on the Astrans,” Ormus murmured.
Sybil folded his arms. “If the ritual fails, Elder Auran will push the Wielders harder.”
They both looked at Elian, who ignored them, holding his chin high as he clasped his hands behind his back.
Several minutes later, Elder Auran came into the room, followed by two more masters of the council. Behind them, flanked by two guards, trailed Anna. She wore a simple, cream-colored shift. Her long, curly brown hair trailed neatly down her back. When she passed Elian, her bright blue eyes widened. She faltered in her steps, tripping over her bare feet.
A guard steadied her from behind. When she looked down, Elian cast his eyes away briefly, his spirit wavering. His heart clenched, as it did with every child brought to the ritual room, but out of all the times he had seen a Cleansing, he had never felt pity for someone as deeply as he did for Anna.
She was thirteen, and by law of the Legion, she had no choice but to undergo the Cleansing ritual. She was one of the few remaining humans who held power in their veins, a power that the goddess Yuna had bestowed on mankind thousands of years ago. Only those who held the power of the Astran were able to spread it to their children. There was a chance that Anna was Starborn, a full-blooded Astran whose lineage would lead all the way back to Yuna herself.
Elian had visited Anna several times over the course of three years. He had bonded with her in his brief visits every few months. The idea was to see that the child did not practice their mind abilities and keep them following the Legion until their Cleansing. A Wielder was not supposed to bond with the marked Astran they were assigned to, but Anna had been different. He had never expected himself to grow soft in his mid-thirties, but here he was.
As Anna walked to the center of the chamber where the circle of symbols began, the others lined the walls. Elian counted six council masters, three guards, and Elder Auran, who stood next to the girl.
When two of the guards closed the doors, a hollow, cold echo resounded. Anna was shivering, twisting her fingers in her hands. She turned to Elder Auran, furrowing her brow.
“I’m not sure about this,” she whispered, her cheeks streaming with tears already. “I don’t want to do this. I promise I won’t use my power if you let me go.”
Elder Auran smiled warmly at her, his pale face taking on the guise of pity. What was left of his hair was all white, and his back hunched with old age. His eyebrows were bushy. Brown spots from the sun had formed on his skin.
“Anna,” he said. “You were destined to be Cleansed the day the Legion marked you. You have always agreed to this ritual.”
Anna twisted her arm and looked at her skin, where wedged between two curved lines was a dark-colored circle—the mark of the Legion.
Elian tightened his jaw as he recalled guards holding her down and branding her with a hot iron rod. The painful memory of her burning flesh brought a wince to his face.
Elder Auran bent down to Anna’s level and looked at her seriously. “It’s all right to be afraid. That is why we’re all here for you. You won’t be alone.”
Anna looked at each of them. When her eyes landed on Elian, her fingers fumbled at her necklace, where a small moon charm made of ember stone lay against her chest—the charm he had given to her a few months ago on her birthday.
Elian broke his gaze from her, his shoulders stiffening. His face flushed as a hollow pang sank into his gut.
He had not
enjoyed bringing Anna back to the citadel to be Cleansed. The first time she displayed her ability, the Legion’s masters of the council had not hesitated in marking her and putting her family’s home under the careful watch of the Core Wielders. If she had been accused of using her power, she would have been taken as a prisoner instead.
“My parents always told me if my power stays in me during the ritual, I’ll be worthy of it,” Anna said.
“Of course.” Elder Auran squeezed her hand.
“But if you take it from me, you’ll keep it in a Core, won’t you?” She winced and looked away.
Elder Auran nodded. “That is how the ritual works. Either way, you shall be fine. If you are Cleansed of your power, it means the gods did not see you fit to have it.”
Elian’s brow darkened as he observed Elder Auran. The man was good at this. He had convinced thousands of children that if their power could be taken away with the ritual, they were not meant to have it. He coated his words in sugar so sweet that the children always took the bait.
Elian had attended a handful of rituals in his fourteen years as a Wielder, but so far, he had not seen a child die. The masters were careful in making sure those with Astran power did not meet an untimely demise, but Elian had heard stories from other Wielders of rituals going wrong. He only hoped he would never bear witness to such a thing.
“You have nothing to worry about.” Elder Auran petted Anna’s hair and then gestured to the middle of the circle. “Just stand within this ring. Do not cross, or the ritual will fail.”
“And then I’ll be able to leave the city with my parents?” Anna’s voice was loud now, her face fraught. “There will be no more Wielders to keep watch on me?”
Elian’s lips pulled taut. He knew the girl was afraid. Most children were once they came alone to the ritual room. All compliance turned to dissent.
“Yes, my dear. You will see your parents today. This should not take long.” Elder Auran left her alone and crossed to the far end of the room, where he came up to the podium and took up two bundles of herbs tied with twine. The Elder lit the ends with a candle and handed them to the two masters closest to him.
Moving the bundles up and down through the air, the masters circled the room in opposite directions until they came back to the Elder. They placed what remained on silver plates on the floor to burn.
Elian’s nose twitched. The strong smell of rosemary, thyme, and sage was overpowering.
Elder Auran opened an old book sitting on the podium and flipped to a specific page. “Core Wielder Elian,” he called.
All eyes fell on him. Elian walked carefully around the symbols. He could feel Anna’s stony stare, and for a moment, he forced himself to look at her icy eyes. She was angry with him, and he did not blame her. She had begged him not to take her to Alacor. Astran children were fine until the time for their ritual. None of them could ever admit it was really going to happen. But as soon as the day came, their tolerance for a Wielder turned to scorn.
“Ah, there you are,” Elder Auran said. “Your Core, please.”
Reaching into the pouch at his belt, Elian pulled out a heavy object the size of an apple. It was colored brass, with deep, sharp lines that ran all around the sphere at random sharp angles. The lines glowed blue, sensing the power radiating from Anna.
“I’m glad to see this new design is functioning properly,” Elder Auran whispered.
Elian nodded and handed him the Core.
“As is routine, no one will enter the circle until the end of the ritual,” Elder Auran said aloud. He pulled out his spectacles from the pocket of his plush, green robe and pushed them onto his nose. On the podium lay a small silver tray with a vial of Anna’s blood they had collected from her earlier. Elder Auran took up the vial and sprinkled her blood over the Core.
Elian had seen his Core marked with the blood of Astrans many times. It was the only way to extract the power into it. The extraction itself was a form of enchantment, initiated by old words within a dusty book. But without an active Core, the words were useless. His mechanical sphere was fairly new, no more than a year old, and held the power of three Astrans.
Elder Auran opened the book before him on the podium and looked up. “We will begin now.”
Elian stood beside him, hands clasped tightly behind his back. It took several minutes of Elder Auran reciting the language in the book before the symbols on the floor began to glow. As Elder Auran spoke, Anna sank to her knees and clutched her stomach, panting heavily. Her face drained of color.
“It hurts,” she cried softly. “Is it supposed to hurt this much?”
Elian’s heart quickened, his own breath catching in his throat as he watched Anna writhe in pain on the ground. He wanted to look away, to pretend she was not in pain. Instead, he clenched his teeth and forced himself to look.
The louder Elder Auran’s words became, the harder Elian’s heart pounded. Anna cried out, tears streaming down her face as her body resisted the extraction of her power.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Make it stop! It burns!”
But the Elder did not cease.
Anna scratched at her arms as if trying to dig something out of them.
Sweat built on Elian’s brow. He twisted his thumbs in his sweaty hands. His heart jerked, and with it he moved slightly forward as if he would cross the circle and save her, but he stopped himself immediately.
Anna scraped her nails down her face, trailing lines of blood along her skin. She pulled her hair until there were strands in her hands. Her screams filled the chamber, then she heaved, and the stone floor glistened with vomit.
Master Ormus turned his face away, as did a few others.
The minutes turned from ten to twenty. Elder Auran looked pale and distraught. A ritual rarely took this long.
Make it stop. Elian’s nails dug into his palm. By the gods, if she is one of you, let her suffering end!
Anna wailed until even the guards at the door flinched. She coughed up blood, her face pale. When she looked up, her eyes were distant. She could neither speak nor breathe. She was choking.
The Elder spoke louder and quicker. He held the Core out in his hand, his arm shaking. Determination lit his eyes.
Then it all stopped. The echo of the Elder’s voice was all that remained. In his hand, the Core no longer glowed blue, and in the center of the room, Anna collapsed, her body still.
Chapter 1
When Owen Greene gazed upon the statue of Yuna in his village, he noticed something odd. The chin and nose were chiseled perfectly, as well as the low cheekbones, but the eyes were out of place. The statue was painted in fine detail, from the golden hue of the skin to the dark hair, but the blue eyes did not suit the goddess of legend.
He was not the only one in the crowd of villagers who noticed the flaw. Hale Rivers, standing a head taller than Owen himself, squinted in the morning light as the others pressed nearer to the statue.
“This can’t be right,” Hale said. “I thought this was Yuna, not Neti. Can’t the Legion even get their own god right?”
This gained a few chuckles from the youth in the crowd. The Legend told that Yuna’s eyes were brown while Neti’s were blue. It was as if someone had switched them. The Legion held the fourth goddess in the highest respect, and they were adamant about resurrecting her temples and statues in the north.
The early risers had come to pay their curiosities to the new statue of Emberton. The coastal fishing village had never housed such an enormous statue before, but they knew the face of the fourth goddess well. It had been a gift to the people from the Masters of the Legion, or so it was told. Only yesterday, Legion soldiers had come riding along the road, carrying the statue by cart, and by nightfall they had placed it upright before leaving as quickly as they had come. But not before their commander gave warning that should anyone defile the effigy, they would be arrested.
“What a waste,” Hale said. “That stone could have been used to build a house. The paint given to on
e of these kids, no doubt.”
Owen smirked. “Since when do you care about children?”
“I don’t, since you asked.”
The excitement around the statue dwindled after several minutes. Some older women shook their heads as they turned to go, while some younger children threw small rocks at the still figure. A woman named Esther Crowe shooed them away before grabbing her two boys and making her way back down the path. Everyone else dispersed, some murmuring amongst themselves.
“Ain’t ever had a statue like that to worship before,” said Anton Warg, the general store owner, to the blacksmith, Clyde Andel. “Hope they don’t expect us to give up our coin and drink to it.”
“These are strange times, my friend,” Clyde replied, “to worship a god that’s been dead for centuries now.”
A hand gripped Owen’s shoulder, making him jump.
Hale laughed at him. “Always on edge, aren’t you? Always someplace but here.”
“I’m curious is all.” Owen crossed his arms and nodded at the goddess again. “About why the Legion wants to even put it here.”
“We’re all thinking the same thing. It’s a heavy chunk of rock to make the field ugly. Nothing more.”
Owen squinted up at him. “I suppose you’d know a thing or two about ugly.”
“You twit.” Hale punched his arm and both of them laughed as they walked down the hill.
“Want to go down to the beach with me later?” Owen asked.