The End of Hatred
Etherya’s Earth, Book 1
By
Rebecca Hefner
Copyright © 2018
RebeccaHefner.com
To everyone who had a dream and was brave enough to pursue it…
Table of Contents
Title Page and Copywright
Dedication
Map of Etherya’s Earth
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Prologue
The goddess could remember the moment of Creation with great clarity. One minute there was nothing; the next, consciousness. Breath made of unseen particles filled her insides and she was alive and whole. Waking to her experience, she saw the parallel universes as they multiplied and expanded beyond infinity. Out of the multitudes of universes she was thrust into her own single galaxy, her own planetary system and finally, her own solitary world, where she would reign supreme in perpetuity.
The goddess Etherya was roused and resolute.
Knowing that she had been given a great power, she began to build her planet with care. Tall, sweeping mountaintops crested with snow melted to form powerful rivers that flowed to the valleys. Luscious green trees filled the atmosphere with oxygen. Powderpuff clouds absorbed the moisture in the blue atmosphere and returned it to the soil with loving care.
Etherya’s Earth was thriving.
But being a goddess was quite lonely and she found herself longing for companionship. She would breathe out long sighs of solitude that whipped the tree branches for hours and caused the waves of the oceans to slap upon the shores.
When she could take no more, she created intelligent life.
With immense concentration she spawned the Slayera and they were beautiful. Gentle, loving creatures with no room in their hearts for hate or conflict. Etherya blessed them with immortality and since they had nothing to fear they were assured to live long lives in the infinity of the Universe.
Or so Etherya thought.
Shortly after the creation of her beloved species the Universe made its displeasure known. Etherya had created a flawless species but she, being imperfect herself, was not allowed to create perfection from imperfection. This would cause a great imbalance. Etherya begged and pleaded with the Universe to save the Slayera and it took pity on her. She was permitted to create another species of immortal, one that would counterbalance the Slayera.
With her heart full of gratitude, she created the Vampyres. Huge, hulking creatures that were skilled at fighting, combat and strategy. They were all things that were absent in the Slayera. At the Universe’s command, she made both species interdependent upon each other. The Slayera would rely on the Vampyres for protection and the Vampyres would need to drink Slayera blood to survive. Although her world was currently peaceful, she now recognized that the Universe could be fickle and volatile. Since the Slayera were innocent and vulnerable, having the Vampyres’ protection gave her extra peace of mind.
They were two imperfect species living as one.
A yin to the yang.
The Universe also commanded that Etherya let humans exist and evolve on her world. They had done quite well on another planet, in a far-distant galaxy, and their ingenuity and intelligence would need to be tested in a new environment. The goddess had no need for humans, which she saw as bumbling and useless, especially in their mortality. But it was a small price to pay if she could keep her two beautiful species, both created from her womb, and envelop them in the harmony of her exquisite world.
Deamons also evolved, another species of immortal, but they were weak and chose to live in the darkness of their underground caves. The goddess regarded them as insignificant anomalies, beings that would never bother her precious species.
For thousands of years the Slayera and the Vampyres coexisted in peace. Etherya would reward them with blazing sunsets, good harvests and sun-kissed days that turned into long, balmy nights. She was grateful for the abundance of happiness she felt when she smiled down on her small, precious sphere.
And then, in what was perhaps the blink of an eye in the span of things, all was shattered.
The night of the Awakening had come.
Excerpt from The Ancient Manuscript of the Slayera Soothsayers
Book 3 – The Awakening
Death’s foul stench spread over the green grass of the Vampyre compound of Astaria.
Dense rain fell from the sky to mingle with the tears of few and the blood of many.
Hearts ceased to beat; souls that had lived so carefree were released to the Passage.
Lives of love and laughter perished, leaving behind only carnage and demise.
This was the night of the Awakening.
Our great and powerful King Valktor struck down our enemies, King Markdor and Queen Calla, with the Blade of Pestilence.
Once great allies turned upon us, choosing to call us “Slayers” instead of our formal name of Slayera.
Our people responded bravely and the War of the Species began.
The balance of Etherya’s Earth was destroyed.
Etherya was very angry and withdrew her protection from our people, showing her as the false goddess we always knew her to be…
Chapter 1
The Slayer Compound of Uteria, 1000 Years After the Awakening…
Miranda rode her stallion to the clearing by the river from where Kenden had radioed her. She probably should’ve stopped back at the main house and gotten one of the four-wheelers but she had already been riding Majesty and his large, black corpus felt reassuring beneath her. As she neared the clearing she softly nickered to him.
“Whoa, boy. We’re here.”
With a caress of his silky mane she jumped down and neared the few soldiers who were crowded around her cousin. Early morning light fingered softly through the clouds and she could barely see his thick, brown locks over the heads of the others.
“Kenden,” she called softly, “what do we have?”
The soldiers parted and her cousin motioned to her with his arm. As she neared she huddled down to kneel beside the girl. Hair, black as a raven’s wing, was down to her waist, wet and curled. Extremely pale skin covered her face except for the veins in her head, blue and angry.
“She’s a Vampyre,” Miranda breathed, struggling to keep her composure. “How did she come to be here?”
“She must’ve fallen in the river and hit her head,” Kenden said as he lifted the hair near her nape to show a deep purple bruise along her thin neck.
“How is she not dead? She’s been exposed to the sun.”
Kenden shook his head. “I don’t know but she’s alive. We have to figure out what to do with her.”
Miranda nodded and stood, wiping her hands on her
camouflage pants. “Get her to the castle and put her in the room by the gym. The one with no windows. No one is to see her and you are to bind her hands and feet. Understood?”
Kenden nodded, reaching down to pick up the Vampyre. She was large, as all Vampyres were, but he lifted her as if lifting a feather from the ground. Such was the strength of the cunning Slayer commander. “Do you want to give her blood?”
“Yes.” Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “Have Sadie bring some up from the infirmary. No one else is to enter her room but you and Sadie. I want you there with me when she wakes.” Walking up to her cousin, she added in a low voice, “And whatever you do, don’t tell Father. He’ll have a conniption if he knows there’s a Vampyre on the compound. She may prove to be useful and I want to question her before he has the chance to kill her.”
Kenden nodded and loaded the Vampyre woman into his four-wheeler as the soldiers piled in after him. Inhaling a deep breath, Miranda walked back to inspect the site where the woman had been found. The river flowed onto their lands from the main Vampyre compound of Astaria, which was located some forty miles north. It seemed impossible that she could’ve floated the entire way, but in the land of Etherya, these were strange times and peculiar things happened more and more often lately.
“Who are you, Vampyre, and why did you wash up on our shores?” Turning to Majesty, she nuzzled his mane and sighed. “Ready to go, boy?” she asked, jumping onto her saddle which rested firmly on the horse’s back. “It’s time for me to nurse a fucking Vampyre.”
* * * *
Once back at the main house, Miranda did her best to avoid her father until after she had spoken to the Vampyre. Although she had become more adept at concealing her thoughts over the past centuries, she didn’t want to lie to him unless absolutely necessary.
As she entered her chambers she pulled the black fleece over her head, throwing it carelessly on the large four-poster bed. Catching a glimpse of herself in the armoire mirror, she grimaced slightly. Large, almond-shaped eyes the color of ripe green olives stared back at her, tired and wary. Straight black hair fell to her shoulders and her slightly crooked nose bunched up in the reflection as she studied herself. With her black tank top, camouflaged pants and army boots, she looked more like a soldier than a princess. As it should be, she thought, giving herself a terse nod in the mirror.
Her mother had been a great beauty. According to the soothsayers who lived on the outskirts of the compound and told sweeping stories of days long past by the light of the campfires, Rina had been the most majestic creature that had ever lived amongst the Slayers. Void of vice, pure of spirit, and true of heart, she had been a vision of all that was good and perfect for her people.
Rina’s father Valktor, Miranda’s grandfather, had been the first Slayer King, created from the womb of Etherya herself. He had been a resplendent figure and a magnificent king until his fateful decision to murder his Vampyre counterparts in cold blood.
No one had ever been able to account for Valktor’s actions on the fateful evening of the Awakening.
Some said that he’d grown tired of having his people bank their blood for the Vampyres in exchange for protection and felt that he had the means to raise a strong and competent army himself.
Others proposed that he was looking for an alliance with the humans and when that failed he blamed it on the Vampyre King and Queen.
Still others postulated that he simply went mad. For, shortly before his murderous rampage, his daughter Rina had been kidnapped by Crimeous, the evil Lord of the Deamons. Until Rina’s kidnapping the Deamons had been the most inconspicuous group of immortals, choosing to live in the darkness and recluse of their underground caves. After the kidnapping, the Deamons became a serious threat. The Dark Lord was no longer content to live in the shadows and wanted dominion over all of Etherya’s Earth.
It sure hadn’t been a great time for the Slayers, Miranda thought as she headed into the bathroom to give her face a quick wash and brush her teeth. Her people had transitioned from a peaceful, loving species to a kingdom besieged by war with two powerful foes. One thing she knew for certain? If this Vampyre woman had any importance to anyone of note at her compound, she would sure as hell exploit it to her people’s full advantage.
The Slayers had lived in the shadows too long. Hunted by the Vampyres for their blood and by the Deamons because of their own sick, twisted pleasure. Circumstances had to change.
She couldn’t remember much of her grandfather, as she had only been eight years old when he’d perished after his murderous actions. But when she did reflect back on him she thought of the valor and strength in his deep green eyes, the same color as her mother’s; as her own. He had carried himself with the regal carriage of a great leader of a magnificent species and it was time that she helped her people regain their footing in this world.
No one was going to hand them back their dignity. She was going to have to grab it from the clenching fists of her worst enemies. And damned if she wasn’t up to the task. The time for cowering was over. Fate had sent them an opportunity in the form of a Vampyre washed up on the riverbank and Miranda wasn’t going to squander the chance to take the offensive.
With one more look of firm resolve at her reflection, she dried her face, threw the towel down on the bathroom counter and exited her chamber with a renewed sense of purpose.
* * * *
Arderin slowly came into consciousness with the knowledge that someone was nailing a hundred tiny screws into her brain. Any other option was unimaginable due to the splitting pain she encountered as she tried to suck in a breath. Finding that nearly impossible, she attempted to lift her hand to her throbbing head but realized after a brief struggle that she was restrained. Slowly, she lifted her lids.
As the room came into focus she could see that she was on a large bed with four wooden posts at each corner. The room was dark, save the dim light on the bedside table, and her feet and hands were bound with thick ropes, one to each bedpost. She was still wearing her dark blue dress from the party they’d been having in honor of Lila’s birthday. She tried to piece together how she’d ended up in this strange place.
She remembered drinking a bit too much. Sathan had approached her and told her that she shouldn’t have any more wine. Her oldest brother was quite protective of her. Although she loved him dearly, it sometimes infuriated her, causing her to overreact. She had spouted some diatribe to him about how she was her own woman and he couldn’t tell her what to do. Then she had left the party to go outside and get some air under the light of the full moon.
The last thing she could remember was standing by her favorite spot at the riverbed, in the shadow of the thick oak tree, wishing the gurgling water could take her anywhere but the Astaria, which sometimes felt like a prison. Looking up at the stars, she had begged Etherya to take her away…somewhere…anywhere but there.
And then she’d heard a rustling in the nearby bushes…hadn’t she? Perhaps a beaver or mole. And then…darkness.
Struggling to remember, she tried to sit up straighter, which was quite unfeasible due to her bound limbs.
Her head snapped toward the door as it opened and two people, a man and a woman, entered. Slayers, she thought ruefully. The situation had just gone from bad to worse. She was being held captive by her people’s sworn enemies.
“Who are you?” she demanded, wishing that her voice wasn’t so shaky. “Release me at once! You have no idea how powerful the people are who are looking for me!”
The female Slayer walked toward the side of her bed and studied her. “We were hoping that was the case,” she said, her eyes roaming over Arderin’s form, most likely to assure her bonds were still tight. “What is your name?”
Arderin kept silent, trying to determine what course of action was best. If she told them that she was the Vampyre princess, sister to the Vampyre King Sathan, she could become a powerful bargaining chip for blackmail. If she lied and told them she was no one, a commoner, then they might j
udge her as dispensable and kill her.
“I see you contemplating your options in your mind, Vampyre, and while I admire your spirit it will do no good to lie to us. We will find out eventually who you are and will employ every means necessary to obtain the information.”
Fear snaked around her heart, writhing and coiling, and she found herself wishing this was all a bad dream. How many times had Sathan warned her that her rebellious streak was going to eventually create a situation that he couldn’t save her from? Looking to the sky, she made a silent promise to Etherya. She would never argue with Sathan again. Hell, she would tell him a hundred times over that he had been right and she had been wrong…if the goddess would be kind and spare her life.
“Praying to your goddess will do you no good here. Etherya abandoned our people after the night of the Awakening and we consider her a false prophet. Appealing to her will only anger us more.”
“You know nothing of Etherya,” Arderin spat, enraged at the denigration of the goddess whom her people held dear. “She abandoned you because your people are sniveling weaklings who were only put on this Earth to be our food!”
The Slayer fisted a large mass of Arderin’s hair in her hand, exacerbating the pounding that already existed there, and lowered her face so that their noses almost touched. “Antagonizing me isn’t going to help you. Now tell me your name and your station at Astaria.”
Arderin studied the woman through her pain. How did she know that she hailed from the compound at Astaria? Was she bluffing? The Slayer woman’s eyes were the deepest green she’d ever seen and her hair was as black as her own, although it sat in a straight cut that fell to her shoulders, unlike Arderin’s waist-long curly tresses. Upon further reflection, she realized that the woman looked much like the Slayer Princess Rina, whom she had studied in her childhood when she was learning the history of the realm.
“You’re Miranda, the Vampyre princess,” Arderin said, her voice tinged with a bit of wonder and slice of fear. “If you think I’m going to tell you anything you are sorely mistaken. I would rather die than help you. Go ahead and torture me or kill me or whatever other plan you have because I swear to the goddess I’ll never talk!”
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