Echoes of Ashener

by David Partelow

  LORE

  Legacy of Revelation, Earth

  The Vallance War Series

  Book Two

  Echoes of Ashener

  By

  DAVID PARTELOW

  LORE: Echoes of Ashener

  Copyright © 2010 David Partelow

  Second Edition ©2019

  All rights reserved. . No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations or excerpts embodied within articles and reviews.

  Cover Art by OliviaProDesigns

  ISBN-13: 9781456329372

  DEDICATION

  For her profound friendship, for her amazing heart, and for invigorating my life in so many wonderful ways, this book is dedicated to Rachel Nagy. No matter life’s course, through the thick and the thin, you will always be within my heart and this shall remain completely true, ever and always…

  Because WE are Venom.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  1

  Echoes

  9

  2

  Hope

  37

  3

  The Journey

  74

  4

  Fractured

  98

  5

  New Beginnings

  144

  6

  Enfolding Darkness

  209

  7

  Storms and Revelation

  244

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank Olivia from OliviaProDesigns for her excellent work on my covers. She has breathed a new life into my books and for that I will always be grateful for her dedicated effort.

  Also, I need to say thank you for the fans, the ones that have been with this story since the beginning, the ones who asked and pushed and threatened me to continue as the craved to know more. I have to say it is the motivation that kept this story vivid and alive through the years. My hat is off to you and my thanks go out to you. I promise to keep pushing forward.

  Prologue

  In Dreams

  “The end was only the beginning.” Her words pierced the darkness, echoing hollow through the nothingness, through everything.

  Trapped behind closed eyes, Serra Landring found herself in a dream and a dream within a dream. Only silence replied to her, its indifference further fueled the fear to open her eyes. Memories were a muddled haze as she weighed the consequences of her actions. Though part of her realized this was a dream, she was loath to face any more of the constant horrors that ravaged her sleep.

  At last, Serra reconciled herself to the inevitability. Her dreams could take nothing from her, only open the old wounds of moments passed. Her nightmares could teach her no more of suffering, yet they seemed content on constantly reminding Serra of her torment, remind her of her past. And remind her of him.

  Serra thrust her eyes open then. She instantly felt the cruelty of her dreams as her view filled her with desperate longing. Surrounding Serra now was the glory of her home as the town of Bannar embraced her with warmth and remembrance. Tears shrouded her eyes as Bannar prepared for the Grand Harvest. The air was once again laden with sweet smells and rich laughter.

  Serra was powerless to stop the opening of her heart. It felt like ages since she had seen her beloved Bannar whole and living. The dimming hopes it stirred within her were undeniable. She tried to shield herself from it, to avoid further suffering but the act was a futile one. Serra knew deep down she would gladly take these moments, no matter how fleeting. She was desperate for a spark of life, even if it was only a dream. Serra gratefully welcomed anything that slowed the encroaching numbness that filled her days.

  “Yes, it was only the beginning.” The words invaded Serra’s thoughts mercilessly. Serra turned to that voice, another fragment of her shattered past; another piece to the puzzle that embraced her with misery. “But all beginnings must come to an end.”

  Serra was now oblivious to Bannar. All she could see was the hooded figure that stood an easy distance from her, looking on with cold eyes. Immediately, Serra’s pain was gone, trumped easily by the growing anger that pulsed with every beat of her heart. Her voice shook through clenched teeth as she spoke. “You have nothing more to hide, traitor. Show yourself, Rhoneck.”

  Rhoneck Ashener removed his hood, revealing familiar features that wounded and sickened her equally. Rhoneck was the image of his father but held a whisper of resemblance of his brother. It was this whisper that fueled more discord in Serra’s heart, making the young woman grateful for the anger presently consuming her. It took everything within Serra’s reserves to not rush to him now in anger.

  Rhoneck regarded Serra for a moment. His calculating eyes invaded her as his condescension mingled with what might have been genuine remorse. “Soon, this war will be over, Serra Landring. Then we will be able to forge a new and prosperous age for this land. Soon, your pain will be nothing more than memories.”

  Serra shook her head bitterly. “I want nothing from you. You can keep your poison. . . and your Thorne.”

  A sad smile crept at the corner of Rhoneck’s mouth. “You still miss him as if it were yesterday,” he mused, nodding at this sagely as he continued. “Believe it or not, his death was not part of the plan, Serra. I never meant to see–”

  Serra instantly cut him off. “Do not say his name. You lost that right the day you damned us all, the day you allowed yourself to forsake your own country and family.”

  Rhoneck disregarded her comments. “As I was saying, I never meant for Nor-”

  “Don’t,” she insisted.

  “I never meant for Norryn to die.”

  Serra’s teeth clenched as her heart flooded at the name. Every glorious childhood memory ravaged her thoughts. Serra was unable to stop the vision of his undeniable face, his indomitable smile, and will. Instantly, she felt the agony of his pain and the void left from his fall. Serra remembered feeling every second of his collision into the dark waters of the Lorne River. And then she had felt Norryn no more.

  Serra’s heart still longed for him, still cried for Norryn Ashener.

  Serra’s entire being shook as she addressed her lost friend’s brother. Her words returned as she again found the anger to strengthen her growing resolve. “You’ve done enough damage, Rhoneck. Leave my sight and this place. Bannar is no longer your home.”

  “Nor is it yours,” was his reply. “This place is dead Serra, as dead as the memories that sustain you. But that will change one day, when I return to Vallance and restore it to an image of my own glory.”

  Serra ignored his quick reply. “It is you who are dead to us, Rhoneck, you who couldn’t accept the future, you who burden those that once loved you with a future we will not accept.”

  “And yet I am very much alive, unlike Bannar. I am alive still and he is not.”

  Serra bit her lip. She knew he was trying to hurt her now. Rhoneck looked around at the streets of Bannar. As he did so Serra’s view slowly changed. Fire erupted from the walls, incinerating home after home. People ran screaming in the streets as darkness fell over the once great capital. In the distance, Serra could again hear the steady march of Thorne soldiers bent on claiming Bannar.

  Rhoneck motioned to his once home as he spoke. “It’s time for you to let go, Serra. It’s time for you to move on. Bannar is dead and Norryn along with it. It is with futility that you and Vallance hold on to vain hopes. You cannot win this war.”

  Serra held her ground as she replied. “I’ll never stop. And Vallance will never stop fighting you. You must know that. With every breath I breathe, I will never give in to your will or to Thorne.”

  Rhoneck chuckled harshly and with
bitterness. “It is a foolish quest at best, for you, like many others, refuse to accept the simple truth that you no longer have the focus to stop us.” He then held out his hands to emphasize his point. “Who of you has the strength to unite your tattered people? Esaundra?” At this Rhoneck chuckled again. “Every day she becomes more submerged in her own misery. You know it. I know it. And yet she leads Vallance because she is the last link to a broken bloodline. It is the weakness of Vallance, and it will be its doom. Who will save you now, Serra? For Norryn cannot anymore. You are, in fact, very much alone. But fear not. One day an Ashener will once again rule from Bannar.”

  Serra’s eyes narrowed. “That day will never come for you, Rhoneck.”

  He nodded at this. “So, we shall see, Serra. So, we shall see. Soon the remnants you cling to still will also be no more.” Rhoneck turned his back on her. As he departed, fire and darkness engulfed him.

  Serra took a step in the wake of his departure, eager to get her hands on him. However, an explosion behind her drew her attention. Turning, her eyes locked upon the smoldering remainder of Bannar’s Keep. Urgency returned to her soul as she gazed on a familiar balcony over the River Lorne. She was reminded of the precious moments she still had. Wasting no more time, Serra ran her fastest to the keep, toward Norryn Ashener.

  As Serra ran, the fires around her strengthened. She could taste the fumes as they gripped her lungs, choking her. Her ears could not drown out the screams now drowning her. Shielding her eyes, Serra ran on, refusing to stop, refusing to die. Time was growing very short now.

  Still running, her world became a blur. The agony meant nothing. The screams were silent in her heart as her focus honed upon a single thought and notion. She had to find him again before it was too late. She didn’t care about the future. She didn’t care about hope. All she cared about was seeing Norryn one more time.

  The view in front of Serra faded as she rushed forward, lungs burning, legs racing but never fast enough. She was uncertain of how long she ran, or how long she endured the torment of death and pain. Nevertheless, at long last she reached the doorway that opened to the balcony. It was the same balcony that began the ending of her world. Breathlessly she breached it to what awaited beyond.

  The anticipation did little to prepare her. Serra’s eyes widened as her view filled with the balcony and beyond. The sky was ominously dark. Below the tell-tale signs of a firefight continued. Even so, all this fell away from Serra easily. In front of her, his back to Serra was the familiar features of her best friend. Serra forgot to breathe as she looked on him, his definitive features and his rambunctious hair. His left hand rested easily at his side. His right hand clenched firmly to the amulet of his family. Ashener’s Calling pulsed with life as Norryn listened to the carnage below.

  “Norryn. . .” Serra lost her breath and words. Her heart longed to see his face once more. She was surprised to realize she was having difficulty recalling his features. It felt like ages since she last looked upon him. Serra waited with abated breath for her friend to face her.

  At the sound of his name, Norryn Ashener turned slowly. As he did, Serra’s heart skipped a beat. Norryn was exactly how she remembered him. The piercing, honest hues of his hazel eyes filled her as they looked at one another. Serra found herself absorbing every inch of him, every long-lost feature, grateful that her soul was alive for the first time in years. The shadow of a smile formed bittersweetly as Norryn looked at her sadly.

  It was then Serra’s gaze carried to his shoulder with horror. To Serra’s dismay slow blood was accumulating on his shirt. Instantly, Serra remembered every moment of the agony she could never be free of. Every excruciating second of that night devastated her heart as she found herself stumbling. Placing her hand over her mouth, tears danced down her fingers.

  Norryn watched her with unforgettable eyes, his grief over her sadness evident. He shook his head mournfully, frustration apparent from his inability to ease Serra’s torment. He bowed his head silently. A long moment stretched on as he again looked upon Serra’s face. The intensity of his eyes increased as Serra found the strength to meet his strength. In a second Serra saw the boy he was and the young man he would be as Norryn finally spoke.

  “I am so very sorry,” he said.

  Serra screamed as Norryn fell backwards over the balcony and toward oblivion once more.

  Time dragged on, painful second after painful second as Serra watched him fall. But even as he fell, something this time was different. While Serra felt the agony of that every moment, she refused to stand idly by as Norryn met his doom. Her mind was already decided as she watched him plummet once more.

  Serra Landring ran to the balcony ledge and jumped.

  The world swirled around Serra as she reached for her friend. She watched as Ashener’s Calling fell from his hand, watched as the strength faded from his limbs. Nothing else mattered as Serra struggled to reach him, her hand outstretched for his own. She refused to be denied this time.

  Somehow Serra’s hand found Norryn’s wrist. Using what strength she possessed, she pulled Norryn to her. Placing her arms around him, she hugged him fiercely, refusing to relinquish him after all this time. Her face touched his and in that touch a fire was born. At the contact Norryn opened his eyes.

  Only a breath apart, their gaze opened to eternity. There were no secrets, no reservations. An honest, open love burst from the hearts of both. On her lips were candid words contained too long from the light of the day. She longed to tell him once. Her only regret was that she had never told Norryn she loved him.

  “I. . .I. . .” Serra fought dizzying, overwhelming inevitability.

  The world swirled around them. The wind whipped across her face and through her hair. The dark waters of Lorne grew dangerously close as her voice and heart finally found unison. Taking a great breath, she screamed against encroaching oblivion. “Norryn I love–”

  But it was too late. The deep waters of the Lorne River met them in a violent embrace. The river took them fully, collapsing around them with relentless intensity. Their caress broke then. Serra felt Norryn slip from her grip as the strength of the water tore open her hands. Her lungs ached for the sweet nectar of the night air. Instinctively, she pushed toward the surface. However, as she rose higher, she realized that Norryn was not.

  Stopping herself, Serra watched as Norryn sank deeper into the murky depths. Peace covered his face as Ashener’s Calling found the bottom of the Lorne. Panic filled her as precious seconds passed. She was certain she could not reach him with enough air to pull him to the surface. There was no more time. With horrid revelation Serra knew that Norryn was going to drown. In an instant, her deepest instincts prevailed.

  Serra plunged downward into the abyss.

  Serra thrashed her legs with hopeless fury, uncaring now of her own fate. Her arms pulled her further downward as her ears popped in the increasing depth. Norryn’s hands floated above his head as he continued his descent. It became her only goal and it consumed her completely, to get her hands around those hands. Serra denied every single fate that told her his death was inevitable.

  With her lungs at the brink of surrender she used the last of her strength. With one final, great push, she reached outward. Futility laughed in her ears at her impending failure. Nevertheless, somehow despite her doubts, Serra found her hands entwined in those of her truest friend. Taking hold of him now, she sought his vivid, hazel eyes once more. She urged him to wake again.

  But Norryn did not.

  With reserves she did not think possible, Serra pulled Norryn upward. With horror, she realized he would not budge. As she tried harder, Serra discovered she was sinking along with him. She fought still, yet the more she fought the faster they descended. The safety of the surface quickly faded from her view. Unable to accept the inescapable truth before her, Serra took Norryn’s face in her hands. She wished for nothing else in those final moments.

  As Serra's lips met Norryn's, the waters around them swirled. Sh
e could feel it through her closed eyes. The nothingness surrounded her again. Serra was spinning, trapped between love and loss, heaven and hell. And before she could finally take no more, sweet, subtle nothing met her completely. Serra made peace as she fell into darkness.

  And then a symbol of hope reminded her she was not alone.

  Forgotten in the moment, Ashener’s Calling shimmered to life. As Serra relinquished control of her fate, the majestic amulet erupted in brilliant strength, devouring the darkness with fervent, unstoppable light. Serra could feel its strength, was lost in its power as she opened her eyes.

  And in the darkness the last thing she saw was light.

  Chapter 1

  Echoes

  The end was only beginning.

  Serra’s eyes tore open. Her body surged forward as her hands claimed the sheets upon her in an iron grip. Cool air met her damp skin and eager lungs as she took a moment to reorient herself. The dream had taken her fully, lingering with painful resolve as young Serra fought to chase away aching memories.

  Serra refocused herself by absorbing her surroundings. The familiar features of a cozy bedroom warmed her slowly. Serra remembered the long hours on the road and was grateful for the old farmers who gave her group refuge. The bed had been heaven, and she had welcomed it gladly. Even the lurking nightmares could not take that relief from her.

  Serra was startled when her door flew open. The light from outside her room flooded her groggy senses, as did the silhouette in the doorway. A deep, familiar voice filled her ears. Concern was evident as he regarded Serra with honest compassion. “Are you okay Serra? I heard you scream.”

  Serra nodded absently as she wiped at her sleep worn eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said dully. Serra still felt exhausted and knew it showed.