Paragons of Ether

by Ryan Muree

  Paragons of Ether

  Kingdoms of Ether Book 3

  Ryan Muree

  Paragons of Ether © 2019 by Ryan Muree

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  First Edition

  Ryan Muree www.ryanmuree.com

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  Also by Ryan Muree

  The Last Elixir Series Boxed Set

  The Last Elixir (Book 1)

  The Fallen Gate (Book 2)

  The Shattered Core - Zoi and Aramil's prequel novel

  What Blooms in the Dark – Shenna’s prequel novelette

  Fairytale Retellings

  In the Garden of Gold and Stone - Beauty and the Beast

  Kingdoms of Ether Series

  Kingdoms of Ether (Book 1)

  Architects of Ether (Book 2)

  Paragons of Ether (Book 3)

  Contents

  Map of Izan

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Author Notes

  About the Author

  Pronunciation Guide

  To Mom & Dad,

  I promise that none of the parents in this series were based on you. Pinky promise.

  Map of Izan

  Chapter 1

  Neeria — Revel

  Emeryss watched the sea oracle, Callo, comb the beach below her cliffside perch.

  The old woman with frizzy black hair decorated with colored stormstones had been at it all morning, mumbling to herself and scaring the sea spiders away.

  Better them than Emeryss.

  Callo had been trying to catch up to her for weeks, but Emeryss had successfully dodged her questions and nudges to speak with her. It wasn’t clear if Callo knew she wasn’t a Scribe anymore, if that was something she could sense, but Emeryss wasn’t willing to test it and tempt the wrath of her parents questioning her motives for being home.

  Maybe it was from cowardice, but the longer her parents and her people went without knowing the truth, the better. They couldn’t help in a war the size of Ingini and Revel. They couldn’t face what she’d seen.

  The chilly, morning sea whispered with soft lapping waves and crisp gusts. Low clouds cast violet and blue shadows across the pale green surface of the water. With autumn nearly over, it was about time for her to ditch the gauzy, short linens she wore for fur and boots.

  Other than a few birds cawing overhead and picking off the straggling sea spiders Callo hadn’t shooed away, it was quiet, and she was alone.

  Perfect time as any to practice.

  She held a small pile of sand in her right palm and closed her eyes to center herself. She wasn’t on those waves or in the sky or leaping off this cliff. She was the observer of a beautiful world of ether.

  When she opened her eyes, the veil of the ethereal plane lay over her own—bright blue-green in the ocean, pristine white and gold across the sky, deep greens and coppers in the sand, soil, and plants. Ether was everywhere and in everything.

  She dragged her index finger over the sand in her palm into the shape of a simple sigil.

  Bronze-colored ether danced between the grains. It twisted and writhed, and as she pulled her fingers upward as if tugging on a string, the grains of sand began to stack on top of each other. First into a mound, then into a cylinder, and finally as a tiny humanoid-shaped… thing.

  It wobbled on her hand.

  “Jump,” she told it.

  It turned on its own—or by her will—and dove off of her hand into the soil next to her thigh. It broke apart and didn’t move again.

  She swallowed.

  It was becoming easier, and Lana, Clove’s childhood friend in Ingini, had been right.

  Things she’d come up with didn’t always manifest, but when she took the time to practice and work with them, she had more success casting whatever she wanted. She didn’t need grimoires; she didn’t even need predetermined sigils. She seemed only limited by her imagination.

  Something Revel, Stadhold, and Ingini would fear and want very much.

  “I know your secret,” Issolia said behind her.

  Emeryss jerked her head. “You almost scared me to death.”

  “I was sneaking up on you. That was the point.” Issolia sat next to her, legs dangling over the side of the cliff like they used to do when they were younger. Her sister’s eyes were a little swollen these days from being tired all of the time. Taking care of a brand-new baby did that. “I thought you were coming up here, and I was right. Is Hellina too much to live with?”

  “No, not at all.” She’d never be ungrateful to her sister and her husband for letting her stay with them until she figured out how and where she would live in Neeria. She’d been hoping Grier would have come by now and she wouldn’t have to make that decision on her own.

  “So, I was right, and you thought you could keep your secret from me.”

  Excuses, lies, fibs… What should she say? How would she explain—

  “It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

  Emeryss looked at her. A boy? She hadn’t seen her cast the little golem?

  Issolia shrugged. “Call it big sister intuition, but you’re up here pining for a boy, right?”

  “It’s just my favorite spot is all,” Emeryss said.

  “Right.” Issolia crossed her arms around herself. “Want me to pretend I believe you or do you actually want to talk about him?”

  She didn’t want to talk about him, but if she didn’t offer something, Issolia would make her own assumptions and it’d get worse. Mother had been looking at her strangely since she’d arrived. Father had been asking questions.

  Still, it hurt too much to admit.

  “You’re avoiding everyone,” Issolia continued. “We all see it.”

  “There’s nothing.”

  Issolia shook her head. “I know that look, Emmy. Don’t lie to me. We promised.” She bumped shoulders with her. “What’s his name?�
��

  She couldn’t say it.

  “Come on. I’m going to keep asking until you give it up.” Issolia poked her arm repeatedly. “What’s his name? What’s his name? What’s his name—”

  “Okay, ow!” She rubbed her shoulder. “You’re supposed to be an adult.”

  “Trust me, I’m an adult all the time. With you, I get to be me again.” Issolia stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes.

  Emeryss smiled at her.

  “What’s his name?”

  Emeryss took a deep breath. “Grier.”

  Issolia’s smile widened. “There is a boy! I knew it.”

  “He’s not a boy—”

  “Right, sorry. And?”

  “And what?”

  “Well? Who is he? What’s he like? What does he look like? Have you guys—?”

  “Oh, come on, Issolia. I’m not discussing that.”

  She gasped. “You have! I’m so proud of you.”

  “He wasn’t my first…”

  “I know, but he’s clearly important to you. So, why are you up here all torn up about him? What happened?”

  What happened? Nothing happened.

  Nothing happened.

  What was she supposed to say? That she had been home for two months, and there hadn’t been so much as a letter from him? She knew what it meant. She’d always known. She’d even predicted it before they left and said goodbye.

  “Come on, Emmy.” Issolia bumped her shoulder again. “You can’t hide this from me. I’m special, remember? You tell me everything.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Grier is home dealing with his responsibilities.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A… Keeper.”

  Issolia giggled. “Obviously not if he’s not here with you.”

  Emeryss glared at her with a grin.

  “Bad joke. But, seriously, I have no idea what a Keeper is.”

  “The guards of Stadhold.”

  Issolia leaned back and gave a long Oh as she did. “Let me guess: he was a guard, and while you were there, you two fell in love, and now he has to stay and do his job, and you got to go home. And you’re mad he didn’t come with you?”

  “It’s worse than that,” Emeryss confessed.

  Issolia’s face lit up.

  “He was my guard, my protector. They’d assigned him to me.”

  Issolia squealed. “That’s romantic.”

  “We worked together for a year, and then… a… few things happened in Stadhold and Revel, and we both admitted we had feelings for each other.”

  “And? Don’t tell me you walked away. That is not the Emmy I know.”

  “Of course not.” Emeryss grinned. “I told him what I wanted, but it couldn’t be forever because of who he is and who I am. I accepted it.”

  Issolia’s eyes closed. “Because we’re Neerian.”

  “No, he never cared about that.” Emeryss moved a piece of hair out of her face. “He, uh, is fairly important in Stadhold, and he’s required to marry someone that improves his lineage.”

  Issolia faked a gag. “Primitive societies, I swear.”

  “He promised that he didn’t care about the marriage thing, but we discovered some information about Stadhold and Revel with the Ingini, and he wanted to stay and tell them about it. To fix things.”

  Issolia nodded. “Honorable. So, what’s the problem?”

  “He was supposed to come here right after.” That last bit hurt to admit to herself, let alone say it out loud for once. Her eyes started to ache and water.

  Issolia’s smile faded, and the wind blew harder. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “I see.”

  “I mean, I knew…” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed. “I knew he had things he had to do, and I walked into the relationship fully aware that I might not have him for long. But his mother definitely hates me, and they sped up his marriage arrangement to make sure he stayed away from me. So…”

  One tiny tear dropped from her eye and was whisked away with the breeze.

  Issolia wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in, knocking her forehead against the side of hers. “I’m sorry, Emmy.”

  She tried to fight off more tears. “He said he would write, and…”

  Issolia clicked her tongue. “I’ve never seen you this hurt over a guy. Ah, my poor, Emmy.” She pulled her closer. “You loved him? Like really loved him?”

  Emeryss nodded. “And I believed him.”

  “And he’s that great? Does he have a cube-shaped head like my husband?” Issolia giggled.

  Emeryss burst with a laugh. “He’s pretty great. I think you’d like him.”

  “Then, maybe, he’s trying to get back to you and can’t. Maybe things are really tough there with the war starting and all the fights and battles—”

  Emeryss sat up from her. “You know about the war?”

  Issolia narrowed her eyes. “The war? The war that took out a piece of the wall? That claimed all those soldiers in the Revelian Caster Army? Of course, we heard about it. Did you forget we don’t live under a rock?”

  That made her feel a little better.

  “Honestly,” Issolia continued, “it just makes me feel sorry for those Casters. It can’t be easy fighting off people and killing them like that. Blessed life to a blessed night.”

  “You shouldn’t,” she mumbled.

  “Hm?”

  Emeryss shrugged it off. “Nothing.”

  “I have to warn you, Emmy. You might want to tell Mother and Father about this boy that’s been bothering you.”

  That was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “Mother thinks you’re lying to her about why you’re here, Father is disappointed that you’re different now, and it looks like someone else wants to speak with you.” Issolia pointed down at the beach.

  Callo.

  She was staring up at them. Her shawls and trailing cloth skirt fluttered in the wind. Though her shape had curled a little with age, she was the same short, stocky old woman she’d remembered.

  Emeryss sighed.

  “Does she want to talk to you?” Issolia asked.

  “Probably,” she muttered.

  “Then, you should.” Issolia stood and dusted her hands off on her shorts. “She’s getting up there in age, though, so be nice. I’m going to get back, but before I forget, Father wanted to see you. Do me a favor. Find him and talk to him, okay?”

  Emeryss nodded again. “Okay.”

  Issolia walked on, but Callo hadn’t.

  Emeryss didn’t want to hear what the oracle had to say to her. She hadn’t since she was a child. How could she face someone who’d claimed to predict her destiny only for Emeryss to change it?

  Emeryss stood and left the cliffside for her parent’s home and met her father on the main path.

  He was tall, broad, and still plenty strong for his age. His dark hair, threaded with gray, was messy and damp in places. He carried rope over one shoulder and a bucket in his free hand. “Emeryss?”

  She slid to a stop, feeling smaller than she was. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but nostalgia and the time spent at the library made her forget her age in her parents’ presence. “You wanted to see me?”

  He tossed the rope to her.

  She caught it easily, but the weight of it in her arms surprised her. She’d definitely lost some of her old strength in those years as a Scribe.

  “Last chance at a harvest,” he said. “You want to go or not?”

  A day trip on the sea. The last harvest. The best one of the season.

  A fishing trip was exactly what she needed. It’d put her fears on hold for a while longer.

  “Sure, I’ll go.”

  Her father blinked, seeming shocked she’d agreed. “Good. Be at the dock and ready in five minutes.”

  He walked away, and the shadowed woman was behind him.

  Callo.

  The old woman folded her hands in front of her, setting black eyes on Eme
ryss.

  Emeryss suppressed a sigh and tried to maintain a courteous tone. “Now’s not a good time—”

  “Never is a good time,” Callo said. “Always is a good time. Time is irrelevant.”

  She inched back. “Actually, time is really important because I have to go get—”

  “Death, Emeryss.” Callo’s shaky hand lifted in her direction.

  Crazy. The oracle was getting crazier with age.

  Emeryss took a few more feet toward her parent’s house. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but—”

  “Death, Emeryss, is what you’ve brought. Death surrounds you like a fog…”

  She wasn’t going to listen to this. “I’ve got to get going.” She turned for her parents’ home.

  “I know what you did, Emeryss. I know why you’re here!”

  Adalai had said Callo and people like her were a scam, preying on the weak-minded, and Emeryss wanted to believe that. She’d been the one to change her destiny, after all.

  But years of ingrained traditions and respect made it hard to loosen the grip on what she was expected to accept as fact. Was Callo a fraud? A figurehead for Neerians? Or could she really read the waves and speak to the spirits?

  Emeryss knew better than anyone that anything was possible. Still, Callo’s weird prophecies and clever words, however true they may or may not have been, wouldn’t stop the war. It wouldn’t bring back those they’d lost. And it wouldn’t bring Grier to her.