My book: Chronicles of Azion: The Coming
I finally decided I'd post some of my book. Mainly just the prologue and chapter one though.
Please comment.
Prologue
It was a dark, rainy night. Water poured from the gutters into the streets as many ran to find shelter. Beggars slunk into doorways, shielding themselves against the downpour.
Galen limped towards the doorway on his right. His good leg was numb with cold, the crippled one flapping with his steps. Cock's bones, it’s freezing. He thought as he continued pulling his old guardsman cloak tighter around his shoulders. The middle-aged man was often pushed out of the good spots by the younger ones so he had to hurry.
Suddenly through the sound of the rain he made out a faint noise that sounded like a cat mewling, but he knew better. Was that…? He paused to listen and he heard it once again through the rain. Yes, it was indeed a sound he knew; it was coming from the alleyway beside him. Even though his soldier instinct flared up against him, he ventured into the narrow lane.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness away from the lamps he could make out the form of a corpse. Galen looked closer and saw it was a lovely young woman no older than twenty. Though covered with a black velvet cloak, her clothes were of fine material (obviously she was a noblewoman). A bloody red wound on her throat along with the contents of her pouch scattered about told him of her demise: robbers.
The beggar sighed slowly leaning on his crutch. Poor lass. Robbed blind and then killed. Why, if I was still in the Guard, I’d find those murdering sons of whores and-
Suddenly he heard the sound that had drawn him into the alleyway in the first place. On further inspection it seemed to be coming from the bundle in her arms. The man knelt on his good leg and looked closer.
A baby squalled, waving its tiny hands and feet in the air. She must have been at least three or four months old, judging by her size. Big eyes gazed at him, and then closed as she made another cry covered in her mother’s blood.
Galen’s heart melted at the sight of the little girl. He set aside his crutch and gently rolled the corpse over; clucking to the baby softly as he tenderly lifted her from the corpse’s arms. He cradled the infant to his chest as he closed the glazed golden eyes and whispered a prayer for the girl’s soul. Standing and picking up his crutch, Galen turned and hobbled out into the street.
“Hush now, little one. You’ll be fine.” He crooned as he shielded the baby girl from the wind and rain. She quieted at the sound of his voice, so he continued to talk as he made his may to a doorway that wasn’t occupied. “It’s all right now, Papa’s got you. We’ll have to find you some proper clothes and such. Ah, here we go.”
Galen sat down in the doorway, sheltered from the rain. The infant cried quietly, and he began to rock her back and forth. As soon as she fell asleep, Galen sighed and muttered, “Well soldier, what have you gotten yourself into?” He looked down at the baby, examining the features as he tried to think of where he could find food for her. You’re a former guardsman with a bum leg and no proper dwelling. How do you expect to raise a child? He sighed and watched as the baby slept her breathing slow and steady against his chest. Well, no matter. I found her, and she’s my daughter now. Daughter… he liked the sound of that.
“Now what to call you?” Galen said aloud as sleep crept up to claim him. As he slipped into the dreamland, he suddenly thought of a girl back in his village. She had had the deepest black hair… not unlike the baby’s peach fuzz of hair… black like the wings of a-
“Raven…” he murmured. Raven… he liked that. And without another thought, Galen fell asleep, holding his new daughter in his arms.
Chapter one:
Nineteen years later
The merchant removed his hat and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. Weather like this was common in the port city of Melon. He was so preoccupied with it that he didn’t notice the girl bumping into him. “Here now, watch it!” he howled at her. Smelly street urchins, he thought as he went on his way.
Said girl looked over her shoulder and grinned. Pigeon didn’t even see it coming; she thought as she took out his bag of money and hefted it in her hand. It would earn at least a month’s worth of food with a little leftover to buy some pretties with. She tucked the purse into her pocket and walked along whistling a tune, nodding politely to the ladies and the men.
By any sights, she was a normal girl: slightly taller than most girls at nineteen, she had shoulder length black-hair covered mostly by a black-wool cap. Skin tanned by the sun, bright electric-blue eyes smiled and looked about taking everything in. She wore an old guardsman cloak that covered her slender form with a tattered yet clean green shirt; her pants patched up and careworn.
Suddenly she stopped. Feeling a familiar presence, she looked behind her and sighed. “You saw that, didn’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm. I thought you promised Father you wouldn’t pick-pocket anymore.” The person said to her sternly.
The girl turned back and looked at her sister, hands on her hips. “Father doesn’t know I’m here. He and Tek think I’m off at the carpenter fetching his new crutch.”
“Then why aren’t you down there?”
She opened her mouth to retort, then closed it and looked sheepishly at the ground. “I’m sorry Belle. It’s just… you know we need the money.” She sighed, “And you know Father won’t let me hire on at the forges like I asked him to.”
Her younger sister smiled, “I know Raven. I know.”
Even though they were sisters, they couldn’t be more different (neither looked anything alike). While Raven was tall, Belle was shorter (for her eighteen years) with more rounded curves. Her short brown hair was pulled away from her hazel eyes by a blue band of cloth. She wore a faded red shirt with a grey bodice and a tattered and patched blue skirt.
Raven took out the bag she pilfered and held it for her sister to see. “Belle… what do you want me to do? If I give it back, I’ll get in trouble for thieving. If I keep it… you’ll tell Father where I got it and I’ll get in trouble with him.”
The younger girl’s brow wrinkled in thought as her sister continued. “Look, I know that Father doesn’t want me thieving anymore but we need this money if were going to buy food so we can use what we have to keep our room and board. You, Father and Tek’s little stall in the market gives us a little, but it’s not enough. This is my bit to chip in.” she walked up to her sister, putting her hand on her shoulder, “I promise: no more thieving after this. I’ll go and get an honest job with the leatherworkers, or at the forges. I’ll even try hiring on as laborer again. All right?”
Her sister looked up at her, eyes searching for the honesty in her claims. Seeing it there, she sighed. “All right then. You promised." Her sister beamed as she then admonished, “No more thieving, I mean it.”
Raven pretended to be offended. “Why, my dear lady, do I ever go back on my word?” she wiggled her eyebrows and then yelped when Belle jabbed her hard in the ribs.
“You do sometimes; now come on. Father and Tek will be expecting you, and the carpenter’s a twenty minute walk from here.” Belle chided. She began to walk, and after a minute her older sister joined her; linking her arm with hers as they sauntered down the street.
----------
“The darkness is coming, my king.”
Micah sunk further into the throne, his eyes lowered to the floor. “I know Taric.”
The prime minister watched the proud monarch; biting his lip as he debated whether to tell him the outposts had fallen when his master looked up at him. The electric-blue eyes were clouded with angst and age as he murmured, “the outer defenses have fallen, haven’t they?”
When Taric didn’t answer, Micah slammed his hand into the arm of the throne making the other man jump. “I have failed my people, Taric. I don’t have the power to defend them any longer.”
“My lord, the Elves…?
“The Elves have abandoned the Alliance and our people…” the king trailed off, his hand clutching reflexively at the front of his tunic.
Taric walked forward and kneeled on the dais, looking his king in the eye. “Surely master they don’t-“
“Dammit Taric, we can no longer expect any help from the Elves! They have deserted the Alliance and me!! We can do nothing!!” Micah’s eyes blazed with the old fire… but only for a few moments. They clouded again and he slumped back into the throne rubbing his temples. “We simply must wait for our destruction.” With a wave of his hand he dismissed his prime minister.
Taric got up and turned to leave. He looked back at his king and sighed. “Then sire, you have failed as king.” With that he left.
Taric’s words stung Micah, and he lowered his head in shame. He reached into his tunic and took out a locket, opening it and looking at the portrait. A beautiful Elven woman gazed at him, golden eyes smiling, her black hair shimmering in the enchanted portrait.
“Oh Aislynn… I wish you were here now. Your people have forsaken us and I can no longer hold back the Shadow from ravaging our land. My magic is gone and I’ve been abandoned… I don’t… I don’t know what to do…”
A single tear fell onto the smiling face of the portrait and for the first time in nineteen years…
…Micah cried.
----------
“Where have those girls gotten too?” Galen shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun and tried to see what direction his oldest daughters would be coming from. In the crowded marketplace where he sat selling his wares, it was no easy feat. He turned and said to his youngest daughter, “Do you know where your sisters have gone?”
Tek shrugged and smiled at her father. “You know Belle and Raven Papa. I’m sure they ran into each other at some point. They’ll be here soon.”
Tek was the youngest daughter the old guardsman had adopted, rescuing her from a slaver. She was sixteen, had long, honey-blonde hair that she wore tucked under a bandana and playful grey eyes that could make any one smile with their warmth and innocence. She wore a faded linen shirt and a green sash about her waist with black leggings and boots; almost looking like she’d wandered in off a pirate ship.
“Jewelry! Jewelry for sale! Fine leather bags, trinkets, all for cheap!” she called out, trying to lure passerby to look at their wares. “A pretty necklace for your wife, good sir?”
Galen chuckled as the man stopped and leaned over the blanket, examining the necklaces. His Tek was definitely the salesman. Thanks to her they had sold twenty items that day, more than they had in the past week!
Now his oldest daughters… that was a bit of worry for the old man.
Belle was a good girl with a firm presence of mind. She could keep calm in any situation and was a smart girl. She was the composed and level-headed one of the three; that was for sure. He’d taken her in when he’d found her wandering the streets at the wee age of three. He was certain that she would be able to manage when she went off on her own.
As for Raven… well, there was a bit more problem with that girl. She may have been the oldest of his daughters, but she certainly didn’t always act like it. Compulsive and outgoing, he was afraid of the troubles she’d get into when she left home. The magistrate had already caught her picking pockets once and he was afraid she would fall into old habits once she wasn't under his watchful gaze. However, Raven had a big and loving heart, and she had many talents. Perhaps she’d be all right after all.
But there were other things about his eldest girl on Galen’s mind.
He’d never told her how he’d come to adopt her; merely saying he found her as a babe. He didn’t mention the fact that she had shown signs of magical powers. No, he’d kept those signs hidden from her, even when she’d turned sixteen; the age magic-users were supposed to come into full power. There was the sort of men who would kill for that kind of power, he knew. Magic resided in the blood, and he discerned there were many who would be more than willing to bleed his daughter dry for a taste of the powers he had a feeling rested behind those startling eyes.
“Papa?”
Galen was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Belle. He looked up to see his three girls smiling at him. He smiled back and stood up, leaning against his crutch. “Well my girls, shall we pack up and go home?”
Please comment.
Prologue
It was a dark, rainy night. Water poured from the gutters into the streets as many ran to find shelter. Beggars slunk into doorways, shielding themselves against the downpour.
Galen limped towards the doorway on his right. His good leg was numb with cold, the crippled one flapping with his steps. Cock's bones, it’s freezing. He thought as he continued pulling his old guardsman cloak tighter around his shoulders. The middle-aged man was often pushed out of the good spots by the younger ones so he had to hurry.
Suddenly through the sound of the rain he made out a faint noise that sounded like a cat mewling, but he knew better. Was that…? He paused to listen and he heard it once again through the rain. Yes, it was indeed a sound he knew; it was coming from the alleyway beside him. Even though his soldier instinct flared up against him, he ventured into the narrow lane.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness away from the lamps he could make out the form of a corpse. Galen looked closer and saw it was a lovely young woman no older than twenty. Though covered with a black velvet cloak, her clothes were of fine material (obviously she was a noblewoman). A bloody red wound on her throat along with the contents of her pouch scattered about told him of her demise: robbers.
The beggar sighed slowly leaning on his crutch. Poor lass. Robbed blind and then killed. Why, if I was still in the Guard, I’d find those murdering sons of whores and-
Suddenly he heard the sound that had drawn him into the alleyway in the first place. On further inspection it seemed to be coming from the bundle in her arms. The man knelt on his good leg and looked closer.
A baby squalled, waving its tiny hands and feet in the air. She must have been at least three or four months old, judging by her size. Big eyes gazed at him, and then closed as she made another cry covered in her mother’s blood.
Galen’s heart melted at the sight of the little girl. He set aside his crutch and gently rolled the corpse over; clucking to the baby softly as he tenderly lifted her from the corpse’s arms. He cradled the infant to his chest as he closed the glazed golden eyes and whispered a prayer for the girl’s soul. Standing and picking up his crutch, Galen turned and hobbled out into the street.
“Hush now, little one. You’ll be fine.” He crooned as he shielded the baby girl from the wind and rain. She quieted at the sound of his voice, so he continued to talk as he made his may to a doorway that wasn’t occupied. “It’s all right now, Papa’s got you. We’ll have to find you some proper clothes and such. Ah, here we go.”
Galen sat down in the doorway, sheltered from the rain. The infant cried quietly, and he began to rock her back and forth. As soon as she fell asleep, Galen sighed and muttered, “Well soldier, what have you gotten yourself into?” He looked down at the baby, examining the features as he tried to think of where he could find food for her. You’re a former guardsman with a bum leg and no proper dwelling. How do you expect to raise a child? He sighed and watched as the baby slept her breathing slow and steady against his chest. Well, no matter. I found her, and she’s my daughter now. Daughter… he liked the sound of that.
“Now what to call you?” Galen said aloud as sleep crept up to claim him. As he slipped into the dreamland, he suddenly thought of a girl back in his village. She had had the deepest black hair… not unlike the baby’s peach fuzz of hair… black like the wings of a-
“Raven…” he murmured. Raven… he liked that. And without another thought, Galen fell asleep, holding his new daughter in his arms.
Chapter one:
Nineteen years later
The merchant removed his hat and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. Weather like this was common in the port city of Melon. He was so preoccupied with it that he didn’t notice the girl bumping into him. “Here now, watch it!” he howled at her. Smelly street urchins, he thought as he went on his way.
Said girl looked over her shoulder and grinned. Pigeon didn’t even see it coming; she thought as she took out his bag of money and hefted it in her hand. It would earn at least a month’s worth of food with a little leftover to buy some pretties with. She tucked the purse into her pocket and walked along whistling a tune, nodding politely to the ladies and the men.
By any sights, she was a normal girl: slightly taller than most girls at nineteen, she had shoulder length black-hair covered mostly by a black-wool cap. Skin tanned by the sun, bright electric-blue eyes smiled and looked about taking everything in. She wore an old guardsman cloak that covered her slender form with a tattered yet clean green shirt; her pants patched up and careworn.
Suddenly she stopped. Feeling a familiar presence, she looked behind her and sighed. “You saw that, didn’t you?”
“Mmm-hmm. I thought you promised Father you wouldn’t pick-pocket anymore.” The person said to her sternly.
The girl turned back and looked at her sister, hands on her hips. “Father doesn’t know I’m here. He and Tek think I’m off at the carpenter fetching his new crutch.”
“Then why aren’t you down there?”
She opened her mouth to retort, then closed it and looked sheepishly at the ground. “I’m sorry Belle. It’s just… you know we need the money.” She sighed, “And you know Father won’t let me hire on at the forges like I asked him to.”
Her younger sister smiled, “I know Raven. I know.”
Even though they were sisters, they couldn’t be more different (neither looked anything alike). While Raven was tall, Belle was shorter (for her eighteen years) with more rounded curves. Her short brown hair was pulled away from her hazel eyes by a blue band of cloth. She wore a faded red shirt with a grey bodice and a tattered and patched blue skirt.
Raven took out the bag she pilfered and held it for her sister to see. “Belle… what do you want me to do? If I give it back, I’ll get in trouble for thieving. If I keep it… you’ll tell Father where I got it and I’ll get in trouble with him.”
The younger girl’s brow wrinkled in thought as her sister continued. “Look, I know that Father doesn’t want me thieving anymore but we need this money if were going to buy food so we can use what we have to keep our room and board. You, Father and Tek’s little stall in the market gives us a little, but it’s not enough. This is my bit to chip in.” she walked up to her sister, putting her hand on her shoulder, “I promise: no more thieving after this. I’ll go and get an honest job with the leatherworkers, or at the forges. I’ll even try hiring on as laborer again. All right?”
Her sister looked up at her, eyes searching for the honesty in her claims. Seeing it there, she sighed. “All right then. You promised." Her sister beamed as she then admonished, “No more thieving, I mean it.”
Raven pretended to be offended. “Why, my dear lady, do I ever go back on my word?” she wiggled her eyebrows and then yelped when Belle jabbed her hard in the ribs.
“You do sometimes; now come on. Father and Tek will be expecting you, and the carpenter’s a twenty minute walk from here.” Belle chided. She began to walk, and after a minute her older sister joined her; linking her arm with hers as they sauntered down the street.
----------
“The darkness is coming, my king.”
Micah sunk further into the throne, his eyes lowered to the floor. “I know Taric.”
The prime minister watched the proud monarch; biting his lip as he debated whether to tell him the outposts had fallen when his master looked up at him. The electric-blue eyes were clouded with angst and age as he murmured, “the outer defenses have fallen, haven’t they?”
When Taric didn’t answer, Micah slammed his hand into the arm of the throne making the other man jump. “I have failed my people, Taric. I don’t have the power to defend them any longer.”
“My lord, the Elves…?
“The Elves have abandoned the Alliance and our people…” the king trailed off, his hand clutching reflexively at the front of his tunic.
Taric walked forward and kneeled on the dais, looking his king in the eye. “Surely master they don’t-“
“Dammit Taric, we can no longer expect any help from the Elves! They have deserted the Alliance and me!! We can do nothing!!” Micah’s eyes blazed with the old fire… but only for a few moments. They clouded again and he slumped back into the throne rubbing his temples. “We simply must wait for our destruction.” With a wave of his hand he dismissed his prime minister.
Taric got up and turned to leave. He looked back at his king and sighed. “Then sire, you have failed as king.” With that he left.
Taric’s words stung Micah, and he lowered his head in shame. He reached into his tunic and took out a locket, opening it and looking at the portrait. A beautiful Elven woman gazed at him, golden eyes smiling, her black hair shimmering in the enchanted portrait.
“Oh Aislynn… I wish you were here now. Your people have forsaken us and I can no longer hold back the Shadow from ravaging our land. My magic is gone and I’ve been abandoned… I don’t… I don’t know what to do…”
A single tear fell onto the smiling face of the portrait and for the first time in nineteen years…
…Micah cried.
----------
“Where have those girls gotten too?” Galen shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun and tried to see what direction his oldest daughters would be coming from. In the crowded marketplace where he sat selling his wares, it was no easy feat. He turned and said to his youngest daughter, “Do you know where your sisters have gone?”
Tek shrugged and smiled at her father. “You know Belle and Raven Papa. I’m sure they ran into each other at some point. They’ll be here soon.”
Tek was the youngest daughter the old guardsman had adopted, rescuing her from a slaver. She was sixteen, had long, honey-blonde hair that she wore tucked under a bandana and playful grey eyes that could make any one smile with their warmth and innocence. She wore a faded linen shirt and a green sash about her waist with black leggings and boots; almost looking like she’d wandered in off a pirate ship.
“Jewelry! Jewelry for sale! Fine leather bags, trinkets, all for cheap!” she called out, trying to lure passerby to look at their wares. “A pretty necklace for your wife, good sir?”
Galen chuckled as the man stopped and leaned over the blanket, examining the necklaces. His Tek was definitely the salesman. Thanks to her they had sold twenty items that day, more than they had in the past week!
Now his oldest daughters… that was a bit of worry for the old man.
Belle was a good girl with a firm presence of mind. She could keep calm in any situation and was a smart girl. She was the composed and level-headed one of the three; that was for sure. He’d taken her in when he’d found her wandering the streets at the wee age of three. He was certain that she would be able to manage when she went off on her own.
As for Raven… well, there was a bit more problem with that girl. She may have been the oldest of his daughters, but she certainly didn’t always act like it. Compulsive and outgoing, he was afraid of the troubles she’d get into when she left home. The magistrate had already caught her picking pockets once and he was afraid she would fall into old habits once she wasn't under his watchful gaze. However, Raven had a big and loving heart, and she had many talents. Perhaps she’d be all right after all.
But there were other things about his eldest girl on Galen’s mind.
He’d never told her how he’d come to adopt her; merely saying he found her as a babe. He didn’t mention the fact that she had shown signs of magical powers. No, he’d kept those signs hidden from her, even when she’d turned sixteen; the age magic-users were supposed to come into full power. There was the sort of men who would kill for that kind of power, he knew. Magic resided in the blood, and he discerned there were many who would be more than willing to bleed his daughter dry for a taste of the powers he had a feeling rested behind those startling eyes.
“Papa?”
Galen was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Belle. He looked up to see his three girls smiling at him. He smiled back and stood up, leaning against his crutch. “Well my girls, shall we pack up and go home?”