Chapter Two: Into The Wild

Credit: www.rupertkogler.com

"Ela." Ethan gulped. How long has it been since he last spoke her name? 

Despite her marred cheek, the tiny girl fashioned a beaming face. Her lips stretched from ear to ear, baring her stained teeth. She donned what appeared to be a decent attempt at a typical Shen'ay gown: long, loose in the wrists and wide around the neck. Obviously, it was a little too big for her. Fortunately, with that large grin, she'd easily pass for adorable anytime, at least to him. But the problem, quite apparent to everyone except her, was that her gown was made of burlap.

Ela reminded Ethan of everything his father fought for --- everything Ethan wanted to fight for, if only he hadn't been so...

"Did Ethan not miss Ela?" She glared at him, probably irritated by his serious countenance.

Ethan forced a smile on his face as he strode towards her. He had many things to inquire of her: if her cheek still hurt; how she's been all this time; what she's learned; how they treated her when he was gone; what on earth made her come to his Naming Ceremony; and most importantly, why burlap.

As usual, words won't escape him when it came to her, so he did what he did best. He pulled her close in an embrace and felt her marred face with his cheeks, before letting out what felt like a hundred years' worth of a sigh.

His face warmed after realizing that Ela has grown after all. Taller? Yes. Wiser? Hopefully. But more noticeable are a few areas that made her well...a lady. He pulled away gently and gazed into her eyes --- the color of the meadows in spring, the day he found her or rather the day she found him. 

She bared her teeth and hissed. She did love to cuddle, he thought. Ethan lamented the fact that Ela might be a tad bit too old for cuddles, long or short for that matter, with men in particular --- him included! He must remember to educate her with that before they part ways. He cleared his throat.  

It was hard to look at her now without appreciating her beauty --- the sparse freckles on her full pink cheeks, her square jawlines that made her appealingly youthful, her adorable snub nose, her bright red curls and her full lips.What am I thinking? Well, she certainly cleaned up nicely. Ethan thought as he cleared his throat.

"Ela, I have something important to tell you. Listen carefully." Ethan paused as he collected his thoughts. How many times has he rehearsed his speech. 

"There is a war in the Borderlands where many of my brothers are fighting and I must join them soon. The place is very, very, very far --- farther than Egula. And more importantly, I don't know when...nor if I will be coming back." There, he finally said it --- a big lump off his chest. He sighed in relief and waited for a response. 

A moment passed since his companion turned her face to the mountains. Still a moment more. Yet, she remained very, very still. The silence bothered Ethan. Did she understand? Did he need to explain everything to her bit by bit? 

Was I really  that  horrible of a teacher? In retrospect, Ethan was quite sure Ela aced her geography lessons; and war was definitely a word he made her use in the past. Very well . From the beginning then...

"Ela, there is..."He continued before being interrupted by her gesture of silence --- her finger on her plump lips. Plump lips???  Ethan, what in heavens are you thinking!?! 

Awoooo! Awoooo! Awoooooooooooooo! One after another howls echoed in the mountains running chills down his spine. Wolves. Large wolves. Thrice the size of Ethan. He has met them, of course --- a pack of three males.The leader was a large, black wolf and the other two were slightly smaller --- one had a white mane and the other a golden one --- Ela's father and brothers so she told him. 

Immediately, Ela leaped to the balustrade and squatted before throwing her head to howl back. "Awoooo!" A very awkward sight indeed.

Ethan did warn her not to do that in the palace grounds, as it made the Shen'ays detest her. Few knew Ethan's purpose for bringing the feral child into the palace, but even those who knew were reluctant to befriend her, fearing she may be a sorcerer of some sort. Ethan conjectured the latter as an impossibility, since it is common knowledge that the great mist in the mountains would not permit a sorcerer to enter Dakeldum, let alone live there.  

"Come, brother." The tiny girl demanded before grabbing Ethan's arm, almost yanking it off his shoulders. 

Before he could protest, Ethan observed his feet obediently leaping past the terrace, past the northern gardens with white collonades of overhanging racemes of wisteria lavender falls, off to a familiar journey --- a journey into the wild, into the Dark Mountains or Dakeldum in the Old tongue --- the place Ela calls home.

Two moons lit the path of their frivolous escape. It was the brightest time of day when the red moon of the night met the blue moon of the day.

Ah, the sweet scent of pine. We're almost there. Ethan's blue eyes gleamed of excitement.

A twenty-foot high wall stood before them --- the kingdom's northern fortress.

Glancing here and there, he sat facing the wall and using his feet pushed the large stone that had a marking. He poked his head through the opening before crawling out and gesturing she follow suit.

"Who goes there," shouted the man on the watchtower behind them.

"Why it's his highness the prince," answered another.

"What in heavens! The Emperor is almost here! Hurry! After him!" The first sounded the bell, signaling the lowering of the drawbridge, and called on the royal guards.

Arf! Arf! Ah, his mother's trusted hounds. They knew his scent all too well. Ethan wondered briefly if his mother raised them for that very purpose.

Wait. What am I doing? Heavens, what was I thinking? The fate of the kingdom and my people lie on my shoulders and here I am running away from all of it. Was it the thrill? Did I truly miss Ela that much? Or am I simply trying to escape my destiny? The young prince, a prodigy of of wisdom and ingenuity, a title that perhaps alludes to the possession of a certain degree of common sense, diagnosed his current state as nothing short of sheer insanity. His body simply moved faster than he could think.

Before he came to his senses, he'd already sat Ela on his shoulders; slid down the river cliff; scurried downstream to a familiar ford where the waters leveled his chest; and then, cautiously crossed the raging cold. This time though, the water only reached his waist. As soon as Ela was safe and dry on the other side, he quickly plunged himself into the water to wash off his scent.

He shivered as he hurriedly took off his snug-fitting black vest and white tunic to wring off the water. His chiseled torso, now proudly baring a decent number of manly scars, glistened in the moonlight.

Noticing her stare, he timidly put on his damp clothes and ran his fingers along his hair. She HAS grown.  He chuckled.

He strode towards her and bowed in a jest. "Milady, if you would be so kind." He motioned her to take lead.

Ela's cheeks turned pink, but before he could fully appreciate the sight. She dragged him along a little more eagerly than the first time resulting to a particular numbness on his right shoulder. 

Yep, damage done! Hearing his groan, she turned to him shortly. Did she just smirk at me? Ethan was delightfully taken aback. It 'has' been a while. Ha ha ha.

Ela knew the woods like the back of her hand. And so, although the shadows of the trees left little light through, she dashed in dragging along Ethan, who ran almost blindly.

The terrain was certainly unforgiving and the ascent quite taxing. One moment, they ran on soft, damp moss. Another, they were leaping off what Ethan hoped were dead tree trunks.

The smell of wild berries, pine and decaying foliage filled the air. And for a while, all Ethan could hear was the sound of cracking twigs, hooting owls, chirping crickets, and so on --- a beautiful monotonous orchestra briefly disturbed by Ela's occasional...

"Duck."

Too late. Poor Ethan fell flat on his back.

"That hurt." He grunted as he ran his hand across his spine.

Ela grabbed his hand and hastily whispered, "Brother, we...hurry."

He 'was' hurrying. Ela was simply too swift.

As they ran, Ethan reminisced their many adventures on the mountains: the time they rode on the wolves' backs, the time they went hunting for wild boars with the centaurs, the time he wrestled with the ogres, the first time he saw the red moon in the West Sea and so on. Staring at her from behind, he marveled at the power this tiny creature possessed to have alleviated him of such a tremendous weight --- his regret and his destiny. Was there nothing he could give her in return?

His ruminations were abruptly interrupted by his oblivious liberator who came to a halt before a large shadow, a large oak close to the treeline. 

"We here." She pointed up.

Ethan ruffled her fierce red hair in gratitude of many...many things. How he dreaded that she now tied her hair in a low bun like the handmaidens of the castle. She hissed at him for taking too long and motioned him to start the climb.

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Did you like this chapter? What do you think will happen next? Please be sure to vote this book on wattpad. Thanks everyone for the support. 

Not to forget, photo credit to: www.rupertkogler.com [Check out his amazing gallery.] 

World Map: Wielders of the North Series

Marking that to-do note done!

World Map Updated on Aug 24, 2015

I'll probably be editing this post later on to add more topographical details. Here are general notes on the territories:

Dakeldum/Dark Mountains: This is the land north of the Sullen River where powerful, immortal animal-like creatures reside. The land is said to be enchanted as a great mist protects it from sorcerers and humans with unclean hearts (those who deal with sorcerers). The mountains have dense forests and lush greenery. Unlike the rest of the continent, the soil in the mountains do not seem to be affected by the curse. The mountains are called dark because of its alpine peaks which appear dark, because of its tall hardwood and lushness. It is said that the way to the Northern Land/The Wielders of the North is hidden in the Dark Mountains.

The Empire of Two Moons: This includes the land south of the Sullen River until the tip of the Dry Lands where the Southern Wall was built (in the Second Age) to protect the Empire from the Outlanders. The Empire consists of five kingdoms or nations:

(1) Shen'ayim known for its wise, skillful and strong people

(2) Hariston known for its naval skills

(3) Anira is a plateau in the west coast --- the Empire's main source of grain

(4) Egula is the island in a lake in the center of Anira. It is the seat of the Emperor and the center of Education, Architecture and Weaponry. Boys are sent to Egula to train for war.

(5) Jarvis consists of a network of mining towns in the Borderlands, along the Southern Wall

Humans who have pledged allegiance to the Emperor are called 'citizens of the Empire' or 'Sons/Daughters of the two moons'.

The Dry Lands/Outlanders' Territory: This includes the land from the Desert of Maradi southwards. Any territory in the continent that has not pledged allegiance to the Empire. Being lawless, the residents of the Dry Lands are said to have a sinister nature and many practice sorcery. Humans who live in this area are called Outlanders.

The Lands Beyond the Sea: These includes islands and other continents in/beyond the West Sea and the Obisidian Sea. They maintain neutral relations with the Outlanders and the Empire.They are generally referred to as 'Islanders'.

Chapter One: An Enemy Called Regret

Art Credit: http://frloudwater.blogspot.com/2012/03/arya-human-female-renegade-red-wizard.html

I never should have left.

Ethan felt as though the dagger in his heart was twisted painfully slow. He flinched.

"The nerve of you! How dare you touch me? Don't you know who I am?" The scrawny woman struggled to pull her arm laden with extravagant trinkets from Ethan's grasp, but he simply wouldn't let go. Her shrieks amassed a rather much unwanted scrutiny from a mob of similarly dressed men and women. In silk, velvet, leather and fur. In various cuts and colors. Their bodies ornamented with gold, silver and precious stones. 

But the young prince couldn't care less. His eyes were fixed on the tiny red-haired girl in burlap whose cheeks were marred red by the scrawny woman's feathery pink fan. 

He struggled to hold back his rage. On another occasion, he would have hurled insults at her for her poor taste in fashion. A decollete would suit a woman with healthier stature milady. Or perhaps he would have chagrined her by reciting a few lines from 'Aldaram's Rules on Etiquette'. Or better yet he could have easily announced that he was the would-be King of Shen'ayim, the reason for the night's celebration. Oh that would do well. Or maybe he should have just slapped her in return. At the latter, Ethan desperately held back his amusement.

There were many things he thought he would have, could have or should have done had his father's last words not rung incessantly in his head: 'Know your enemy before you draw your sword. Know your enemy before you draw your sword.' No sooner did it ring,  did he release his grasp and bowed hastily. "Milady." 

His bow was befitting of a Shen'ay soldier --- graceful yet strong, gentle yet brave --- the bravest of the Empire of Two Moons as they were known. 

Of course, in his heart the gesture was meant for the tiny red-haired girl, but he owed no one an explanation. He turned his attention to the fallen girl. Her fierce green eyes welled up with unshed tears. Tears she was not willing to show nor he for that matter. He knelt beside her and gently ran his thumb along the corners of her eyes. 

Oh, but the scrawny woman was far from finished. She hurled her fan to the floor and continued her rant. "Savage! Savage! Why are savages like her ALLOWED in the presence of his imperial majesty?" 

"My prince." The woman's theatrics were surreptitiously interrupted by a stocky woman wearing a light purple surcoat with her salt-and-pepper hair fixed in a bun behind her neck. Directing her curtsy to Ethan, she proclaimed, "Her highness the Queen and his Imperial Majesty, Emperor Waramera, the Maker bless his throne, shall be arriving shortly." Her eyes rolled towards the postern gate, signaling the prince to exit. 

Her face was emotionless. It was business as usual for the castle's matron, Madam Serna, who used to be Ethan's nanny. 

"Of course Madam, please do carry on." Ethan subtly replied as he helped the tiny girl to her feet and with her hand in his made their way to the postern gate with little haste.

The scrawny woman composed herself immediately. Her face burned up in embarrassment after being aware of Ethan's identity. It was of course difficult to blame her as the young prince had a preference for more modest clothing.

As the prince walked past Madam Serna, she mumbled, "and please hurry back". She turned to the woman, curtsied in a less subservient fashion and half-heartedly spoke, "I apologize for the misunderstanding, milady. His royal prince's esteemed guest meant no offense." Then, she immediately turned to the fiddlers and clapped. "Music! Let's have some more music!" 

And so off they went to the postern gate --- a pair of dark leather boots followed by a much smaller pair of wearied brown carbatines. The crowd may have been appeased, but their encounter will surely be known to the Emperor who had eyes and ears everywhere.

There had to be an easier way to impress his Imperial Majesty than prancing around with a fake smile. Ethan sighed.

The young prince absolutely hated balls, weddings, parades or any of the sort that required him to dress up and tolerate the decadence, the ignorance and the hypocrisies of the world he lives in. This, all of it, was definitely the last thing he had in mind to celebrate his eighteenth naming day, but there was no helping it. Today, the fate of the Kingdom of Shen'ayim lies on how well he can converse, dance and show off his fencing skills. He was, unfortunately, only confident of the last.

In a few hours, the Emperor of the Two Moons, ruler of the five kingdoms will be arriving to the great halls of Shen'ayim's White Stone Castle. Ethan's mother, Queen Arithea, was with him, as she decided to fetch him all the way from the capital, Egula, the Emperor's City. 

Although Queen Arithea likewise was not fond of socializing, particularly, because the grandeur required resources their kingdom was not exactly in excess of, this was an exception. Tonight, instead of fish and potatoes, the Queen spared no expense in preparing a magnificent feast of age-old wine, meat of every kind, delicacies and grain. Tonight, the great halls of the White Stone Castle of the Kingdom of Shen'ayim will be filled with music and dancing, jesters and entertainers of every kind. Tonight, it would host the Emperor himself accompanied by the kings and queens of the other four kingdoms, along with their very long entourage of advisors, noblemen, scholars, courtesans and so on. 

For tonight, Ethan will be formally introduced as 'Prince of Shen'ayim, son of the late King Holyan who was the 267th King of Shen'ayim and 40th General of the Emperor's Armies.' 

Ethan's knees weakened and he felt teary-eyed as he remembered the tragedy that befell them three years ago. At that time, his father, King Holyan, led an army to fend off the invasion of the Outlanders, men who had not sworn allegiance to the Empire of Two Moons --- sinister men, many of whom practiced sorcery. The battle was won, but at a very high price.

Shen'ayim was bereaved of a king and the Empire deprived of a Shen'ay worthy General. Ethan's older brother, Agapos, should have succeeded his father as king, had he not also died along with him. Agapos would have been a great king and a great general, perhaps the greatest of the Third Age. At nineteen years, he already surpassed the greatest swordsmen who lived. His herculean stature matched his monstrous strength. And more importantly, Agapos was kind-hearted and like the lae king, he, too, was a military genius. 

The entire kingdom lamented the deaths of their beloved king and prince, but they hadn't the luxury of time to mourn. Since the law did not allow women to rule as they supposedly lacked the ability to lead a nation to war, the Emperor had in mind to marry off the Queen to a nobleman, and in the process hand over the kingdom to an outsider who had little care for the welfare of its people. 

Of course, the Queen protested and asked for time to groom her youngest and remaining child, Ethan, who was then only fifteen, to take his father's place as King of Shen'ayim and eventually  become General of the Emperor's Armies --- a post currently taken over by Prince Hauron of the Kingdom of Jarvis, a man in his fifties, a military genius in his own right, also a good friend of his father, but not at all on a par with the late king. In fact, in the last two years, the Empire has already lost more than a hundred men in skirmishes against the Outlanders, pushing their territory back to the mountains of Rehan. Even more alarming is the widespread talk on how a few sorcerers have infiltrated the ranks of the Royal Court.

In getting back to Queen Arithea's marriage predicament, it is no secret that not a few princes and noblemen schemed to become King of Shen'ayim and General of the Emperor's Armies. It was a position of power and influence, after all.  However, many of the Emperor's advisors held steadfast to the prophesy that only a Shen'ay blood can defeat the sorcerers of the south. The Emperor, of course, did not simply subscribe to the myth, but the Shen'ay's unsurpassed military prowess, bravery and skill in the art of killing throughout history spoke for itself.

However, to the kingdom's misfortune, there are few Shen'ay men close to the Queen's age who are marriageable and Ethan was not raised as a man of war, but as a scholar. And so the enthused emperor looked to other kingdoms for a worthy candidate.

But Queen Arithea will have no one but Ethan become King of Shen'ayim. The issue was he was not fit to lead the Emperor's Armies, which was why he was immediately sent to Egula to train for war. The Queen was granted time until Ethan's eighteenth birthday to present him as a worthy heir of the kingdom and a capable general of the Emperor's Armies.

Now, the reason why Ethan was raised as a scholar, rather than a man of war starts with the soil. The entire continent is cursed and Shen'ayim's land is practically dead. For centuries, nothing but potatoes, onions and rare species of flowers accustomed to cold and hard soil grew in Shen'ayim. Because of this, the kingdom became heavily dependent on the Empire for meat and grain. In return, Shen'ay men gave their lives to protect the Empire from the Outlanders. 

However, because there were a few Shen'ay kings who revolted in the past against the Empire, the Emperor was wary of the Shen'ay people. And so, he made sure that the Kingdom of Shen'ayim remained completely dependent on the Empire by (1) sending just enough food and supply rations; and (2) making sure all but a few men are deployed for military missions in various parts of the Empire, which left the kingdom defenseless.

The Empire's policy on dealing with the Shen'ays have changed little in the past decades. The Emperor simply have turned a deaf ear to the kingdom's pleas. The kingdom as it stands today has less than fifty men protecting its territories, and the women are left to do the men's work. Many of whom are widowed. Also, boys as young as ten were sent off to Egula to train for war; and were also enticed to be more loyal to the Emperor than their own people. King Holyan and Queen Arithea, in their wisdom, foresaw the demise of Shen'ay should the Emperor's schemes continue.

They believed the only way to preserve the kingdom was to overthrow the Emperor himself. But first, they had to some extent become self-sufficient particularly with food and weaponry. And so they engaged in secret trade with foreign lands, but it proved to be dangerous and unreliable. 

Then, one day, a few weeks before Ethan was born, a hermit called Ariel came to Shen'ayim. Because of him, the Queen was able to survive giving birth. And so he, soon, gained the trust of the King and the Queen. He convinced them that they can preserve the kingdom by finding a cure for the soil, which he believed is found in the mountains of Dakeldum, west of Shen'ayim. He also suggested that Ethan, who showed signs of great promise as a scholar, be hidden from the Empire's prying eyes. Together, the two would search for a cure to Shen'ayim's soil.

Now, Dakeldum or Dark Mountains is dense with trees and lush with greenery. The problem was its residents, the Dak'elis, are powerful, animal-like creatures who were not too friendly with men. There have been many stories about an enchanted mist that poisoned sorcerers and men with unclean hearts who tried to enter the mountains. There were also sightings of terrifying creatures such as man-eating ogres, centaurs, minotaurs, griffins and wolves thrice the size of men. 

Along with Ariel, Ethan toyed with the idea of convincing the Dak'elis to be more tolerant with his kind. Perhaps the creatures wouldn't mind sharing their land or even better the secret of the mountain's arable soil. But what would the creatures possibly want from the Shen'ay in return?

What stood in the way was no surprise. The Dak'elis despised the humans for their greed and selfishness, something the hermit said the creatures could sense from afar. On the other hand, the Shen'ays, feared the creatures and wisely so. How can the two possibly forge trust; let alone, communicate?

They were close to giving up when a fateful event anchored their hopes.

It was summer and a hungry ogre, twice Ethan's height, found them. He was sure they've met their end, until Ela and a pack of wolves appeared from nowhere to save them.

Despite their many obvious differences, his friendship with the feral child blossomed.

It was around that time, though, that Ariel hastily left after leaving a note saying he had to see to an urgent matter that presented itself. He found the wordings quite bewildering, not that anything about the hermit was anything else but that. He wondered if it had anything to do with his new friend.

Time passed and in Ariel's absence, Ethan devised a plan, a simple plan, so he thought: While King Holyan and Prince Agapos would meet the Emperor's military demands and keep their eyes off Ethan, he would transform Ela into a refined emissary of the Dak'elis to forge an alliance between their peoples. But the hands of fate, so it seemed, would not have it their way. King Holyan and Prince Agapos were killed too soon and Ethan was sent to Egula, far from Ela, to train for war.

To Ethan's further dismay, since he was sent away, Ela has become utterly miserable and less responsive. According to Madam Sena, who cared for Ela in his absence, she often left the castle and when she was there, she simply asked if Ethan was back, did the chores allotted to her and talked to no one in particular for she was often mistreated by the very people Ethan wanted her to help.

A dagger in my heart indeed. Ethan clutched his chest, despising himself for devising a cruel feat.

In his mind, he exceeded the emperor's sin of sending thousands of Shen'ay men to their deaths. For unlike the emperor, Ela gained nothing from helping him and she was completely oblivious to his schemes. He simply toyed with the life of an innocent child. Their time has run out and soon, whether or not he becomes King of Shen'ayim, he will be sent to the Borderlands to protect the Empire. It was all a waste time, after all. 

The weight of his frustration, his guilt and his new responsibility weighed heavy on his shoulders as he pondered on them. 

Get a grip man! Ethan soon caught sight of the mountains of Dakeldum through the tall glass windows. Stepping out of the postern gate along with his companion, he sniffed the air to relish the smell of pines from across the Sullen River.  

"There is no place like home." Ethan sighed. His mind was made up. He will protect his family, his kingdom and his people no matter what the cost. And right now, one of the costs was saying goodbye to his best friend, one whom he thought of using without remorse. If it meant the preservation of his people, he'd have no hesitation to do it all over again. It is time. 

Slamming the door shut behind him, Ethan silenced the deafening sound of fiddles and lutes and the muffled voices of the Empire's high and mighty. His gaze turned towards the tiny red-girl, whose smile now stretched from ear to ear. She was a picture of hope. Now, she was a bitter reminder of Ethan's lingering enemy.

'Know your enemy before you draw your sword.' His father's words echoed in his thoughts. 

"Now that I know, how exactly do I draw a sword against it, Pa?" Ethan whispered in the wind. How he wished he could just as easily silence this enemy...his enemy called 'regret'.

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Thank you for all for reading and perhaps sharing this chapter. ;)
Humm...What did you guys think of it? Would you call regret an enemy? How do you deal with 'it'? God bless everyone and really hope to hear from you.

Prologue: Songs of the Sea

Art: Night Cliff by Adioss on Deviantart (Thank you)

In a land where a blue moon sets and a red one rises, where the warmth of the sun is barely felt in summer and the winters are long and deathly; where the cloudless skies are filled with countless stars of yellow, blue and purple; and the great winds of the north stir the restless seas, in the Empire of Two Moons, the threads of destiny are weaved.

"Until when shalt I wait, oh king of the north. Ariseth from ashes and hie thee hither..."

A woman's hollow voice echoed along the rugged cliffs south of the Obsidian Sea. There at the edge knelt she, clothed in a long, scarlet velvet robe. Her gaze fixated in the dark waters as waves crashed against the rock where she stood...higher and higher the waters rose as she sang louder and louder.

"Tis' empty. Thy words art empty. Thou tarriest long in a land far, far from thy lover's arms."

Her voice trembled in anger.

Not far behind stood two fearsome figures clad in dark cloaks, black armor and leather boots.

The taller man was bald and had an eye patch. On his back was a mace, twice the size of his head. Yanking the cloak of the younger man next to him he asked, "The mistress' song, Cap'ain...'tis not of love, is it?"

The younger-looking man was well groomed. His face, clean-shaven. His brown hair was combed back, accentuating his sharp jawline, fierce dark eyes and aquiline nose.  He would have looked somewhat dashing had he been slightly taller. Placing his index finger over his mouth, he cautioned his companion to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Cap'ain, 'tis not of love, I tell ya. The mistress...she has no heart, no?" The taller man's face now overshadowing the face of the younger one. He raised his unibrow and widened his eyes while nodding a few times to try to get any sort of response from him.

Suddenly, the wind died down. The waves receded and the sea grew calm. Then, a drumming, a constant beating from beneath the ground caused the sea to pulsate. A spherical wave, followed by another, then another...

The taller man drew closer to the cliff to get a better look, while the other calmly shut his eyes and took a few steps back.

"Yes, yes..." The woman whispered in excitement. "Today, today perhaps..." She held onto the edge of the cliff as she peered closer to the water. An unexpected gust threw off the woman's hood unleashing her long white hair that fluttered for a moment before the wind died down. Her skin was porcelain. Her cheeks blushed in anticipation as her glacial blue eyes stared nefariously at the sea. Her youthful appearance, the epitome of beauty, ill-suited her raspy, hollow voice.

A light shimmered across the horizon and the earth soon trembled. One after another, rocks fell into the water. The entire cliff, not too far from where they stood, was swallowed by the sea. But the water had an enchantment, it only moved from where the spheres pulsated.

The tall man yelped, "Sorcer-." The captain quickly covered his mouth before he let out a scream. 

"Are you seriously trying to get us killed?" He growled, giving him a hard gaze. 

Truth be told, Dorvan, who was barely twenty, was likewise extremely terrified. The hair on his back stood and his heart could literally pop out from his chest. He wasn't afraid of the earthquake or the sea or...whatever horrible thing would come out of it. He has seen many a great strange and evil things, after all. Besides, he is a brave man and strong too, perhaps that is why she took him in, cared for him or rather fed him. That woman, whatever she is, has done more good to him than anyone ever did. Oh, but her temper...that is what he feared the most. 

He's accompanied her to this place far too many times...and each time, the same thing happened without fail: the thing, whatever it was, never came out and someone always ended up dead. This is why he always brought an imbecile. Oh, Maker's mercy. The poor chap sh-t his pants. Dorvan really did feel sorry for Fares, but apparently not enough. Dorvan simply wasn't ready to die...not yet. So, he kept still, still as that damn sea. Good Maker, just let out whatever it is she calls for.  

Lady Ria, that is how she wanted to be called, held onto the edge. Her lustrous hair now fluttered gently despite a windless sea. "Come-hither," she whispered incessantly to the waters.

Almost over...almost over. Dorvan repeated as he shut his eyes once again.

Then...there was quiet --- a deafening silence as the earthquake suddenly ceased. 

Almost over...almost over. Dorvan gulped as he struck his spear deep into the ground and held onto it.

"Gahhhhhhh!" The woman screeched as the north wind blew her away. Dorvan imagined she'd be a few feet from where they stood, the exact same spot, every damn time. He really didn't have to open his eyes. He knew exactly how this played out.

She'll whimper softly, holding back her tears. Then slowly...ever so slowly she'll curl up on the ground...It's alright, milady. It's alright. Just please...please don't kill me after. Wait for it, Dorvan...steady your heart, Dorvan. Wait for it...

"Ahhhhhhhh!!!" No matter how many times he's heard that ear-piercing scream, it still brings chills to his spine. Moments passed. To Dorvan, it seemed like an eternity. 

Fares probably fainted by now. Still no sound...no sound of Fares being killed.

Something is amiss. I can't hear anything. Where is she? Good Maker, I don't want to open my eyes. Wait...is she...is she gonna kill me today? No, wait, am I dead already? Maker's sake woman, say something!!! Say...some...

"Wake up, cowardly Dorvan." He opened his eyes hesitantly and found himself breathing her very breath. Her teary blue eyes stared into his. Her face no more than two inches away from his face. Good lord, she looked sixteen. Lady Ria smirked as though fully aware of his thoughts.

"My lover," she mused as she pulled back twiddling her thumbs. "He is not strong enough to come to me." Her muffled voice expressed regret. This was the first time she told Dorvan who it was she called for. 

Perhaps, it was a love song after all. Dorvan hoped his slightly offbeat pulse wouldn't count as jealousy. Good Maker, no...please no...

Lady Ria seemed amused. Her face hinting a smile now glistened with tears, making her all the more beautiful. 

"My sister...how she hated me! My sister built a very strong wall, you see." She pointed north towards the horizon." 

Staring at her back, Dorvan wondered how his mistress looked like an innocent princess in one moment and then in another, he'd find himself practically staring at the very face of death. 

"Tick-tock. Tick-tock. We've much to do. Come, my servants." She twirled gleefully. 

Why , milady's in a good mood. Mercy from the Maker. There be no death today. He almost let a smile slip as he watched the train of her scarlet robe as they walked to their horses. To his left, Dorvan caught sight of poor Fares who barely kept pace. He pat his back.The heavens shine on you man was what he wanted to say. To us both.     

"By the way, baldy..." She paused, looking back at Fares. Her blue eyes now blood red. "I am no sorcerer."

Suddenly, a sharp invisible force pushed Fares towards the sea. His feet dangled several feet from the ground as though he was held by the throat. The choking man gasped for air as he begged for his life.

"I. AM. A. WIELDER." Her eyes turned blue again as she smiled before playfully uttering the word: 'release', dropping Fares just above the cliff. His head hit the rocks a few times before his body fell lifeless turning the dark waters red. 

"Ooops. I really was in a good mood today, Dorvan. I really was." She giggled.

Dorvan knew for certain Lady Ria could hear his thoughts. He shuddered as he tried to recall the ruminations he had a while ago. I'm dea-

"Fear not, foolish Dorvan. Now...send capable men to Shen'ayim. Find me another female wolf. The seas tell me it is time."

She walked away singing to a livelier tune:

"Mine own child shall I keep safe until the third age awake

Lo, through a silver bridge past the mighty gates

A daughter of the wolves shall bring home

Mine only child, my firstborn"

To the north shall it be...steady Dorvan, steady your heart. He gulped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writing this gave me the shivers. This is the first time I wrote something slightly violent; and I'm probably not very good at it...yet. Anyhow, Daughter of the Wolves really isn't meant to be too graphic as I would like the younger generation to read it without too many nightmares. Take care everyone and let me know what you think of this chapter. 

Don't forget to visit the book on wattpad. Please vote for the book to help me reach a larger audience. God bless everyone.

Daughter of the Wolves Plot Summary [Book One of The Wielders of the North Series]

Dakeldum is home to many strange creatures: giant wolves, centaurs, griffins and more. For ages, the Dak'elis, searched for their way home, an ancient bridge north, beyond the dwelling of the griffins, but a mystical mist kept them from finding it. Kharul, chief of the pack, the oldest, wisest and strongest of the Great Wolves, knew there was a reason why they couldn't return..if only he could remember. Time is running out for his kind. For though they were immortal, should they die in the land of men, their souls will never return home. Many have already died in their sleep. A few were captured by sorcerers who desired their power, while men in search of precious stones plotted to drive the Dak'elis out of the mountains.

"Selfish, greedy, debaucherous liars." Kharul had little regard nor sympathy for humans or so he thought..

Then one fateful day, before the first snow fell, a woman came to the mountains. An army sought to kill her, but the mist or rather the mountains protected her. The ground shook and the mist that hid the ancient bridge in the north dispersed east to wipe out her enemies. The red-haired human desperately gasped for air as she leaned on an oak tree near the Sullen River, close to Kharul's den. Tears trickled down her face. In fear, she trembled as the wolves approached her. A few screams and a sharp cry ensued. Then, with bloodied hands she reached for the creature between her legs. Desperately covering it with her scarf, she brought it to her chest to suckle. The woman was dying, but before she breathed her last, she looked into Kharul's soul. In a language that required no words, she begged him to spare her baby. Kharul hated the humans more than anything, but he..his kind..they are not like them. So in his mercy, the Great Wolf lowered his head and made a promise, not like a human promise you see, but one that lasts..a promise not only to spare the child's life but to protect and to cherish it as his own.

I know. I know."Daughter of the Wolves" is a little too common, but my heart was set on it because it's exactly what the first arc is about. 

As far as commitment goes, I plan on publishing a chapter or at least some content (artwork, poem, song, map, character profile, etc) once a week. [Please do let me know if you find any grammatical or contextual errors. Also, if you have an opinion on the pacing, character development, etc, do share them with me.]

Two things actually kept me from publishing earlier: (1) The Cover; and (2) The Theme Song. That's right the series has a theme song. Yahoo!

The inspiration for the song/the book came one morning, while I was meditating with my husband. It came out so easily you'd think Jeff and I were pros. Really, it was the Grace of God. With God's help and of course a few talented buddies - Mex and Riz, the song came out really well. And I am so excited to share the song with you. :)

About the cover, I finally decided to just call it a 'working cover'/ a work-in-progress...hahaha. [She was supposed to face sideways, but the eyes...the eyes looked so horrible and this...well this happened ;)]

So to end, here's a link to the book on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/45148119-daughter-of-the-wolves

Feel free to read/reading is totally free, you just need an account. Also, please feel free to share the book with your friends, like, or comment.

As far as aspiration goes, I do hope to one day publish a print version (after all the much needed editing hehe) and God-willing the story would catch the eye of an awesome filmmaker and the story would reach even the not-so-avid reader.

Oh and here's the link to the book on wattpad ;)

Take care everyone and God bless :)

Excerpt from "The Horse and His Boy"

It's every Christian writer's to be able to portray the most important person in their lives in their writing. Really love this chapter :) Praise God for C.S. Lewis' life. Praise God that he never gave up and kept on going. :)

Credit: To Follow, Definitely not mine :)

Chapter 11: The Unwelcome Traveler

“I do think,” said Shasta, “that I must be the most unfortunate boy that ever lived in the whole world. Everything goes right for everyone except me...

And being very tired and having nothing inside him, he felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks.

What put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock.

It darted into his mind that he had heard long ago that there were giants in these Northern countries. He bit his lip in terror. But now that he really had something to cry about, he stopped crying.

The Thing (unless it was a Person) went on beside him so very quietly that Shasta began to hope he had only imagined it. But just as he was becoming quite sure of it, there suddenly came a deep, rich sigh out of the darkness beside him. That couldn’t be imagination! Anyway, he had felt the hot breath of that sigh on his chilly left hand.

If the horse had been any good—or if he had known how to get any good out of the horse—he would have risked everything on a breakaway and a wild gallop. But he knew he couldn’t make that horse gallop. So he went on at a walking pace and the unseen companion walked and breathed beside him. At last he could bear it no longer.

“Who are you?” he said, scarcely above a whisper.

“One who has waited long for you to speak,” said the Thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.

“Are you—are you a giant?” asked Shasta.

“You might call me a giant,” said the Large Voice. “But I am not like the creatures you call giants.”

“I can’t see you at all,” said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, “You’re not—not something dead, are you? Oh please—please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!”

Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face.

“There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.”

...

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

“Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta.

“There was only one lion,” said the Voice.

“What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and—”

“There was only one: but he was swift of foot.”

“How do you know?”

“I was the lion.” And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

“Then it was you who wounded Aravis?”

“It was I.”

“But what for?”

“Child,” said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”

“Who are you?” asked Shasta.

“Myself,” said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it.