Ethereal Ascendant

by Luke DeSalvo

  Ethereal Ascendant

  by Luke DeSalvo

  © 2019 Luke DeSalvo. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in ant form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review. For permission contact through the following email.

  Systralas.books@gmail.com

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  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

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Acknowledgements

  For my family, friends and adventurers along the way.

  Chapter 1

  “The Seventh Season has many aspects both alarming and charming to the soul. An age of the enlightened and mystery. One cannot describe such raw potential. It is both secret and open. As if describing color to the blind. A dream of portraits.”

  Clairvona Aya, Sleet

  Scion of Systralas

  Jason Ildarachi awoke with his vision blurring from the darkness to a blinding light that slowly brought color to his surroundings. When his eyes adjusted, the man found himself laying on his side in a trinket filled eerie room. On the floor, lay a purple rune that was glowing in the shape of a star, he focused his eyes on this, finding that the seal in the center was a dragon, a frightful image that recalled familiarity. With the beast’s tail coiled into a full circle it made him wonder more about these ancient monsters.

  Sand was placed in the vicinity of the room in the form of a garden of sorts, it surrounded the ornate rune, that intertwined with the dragon’s tail. The desperate man fidgeted and shifted his attention to the walls that were aligned with bookshelves of tattered worn tomes from repetitive use that all glowed purple, mimicking the rune on the floor, their words of magic bringing solace to Ildarachi’s jaded mind. As the poor man switched to his back, he could see bright blue and pink charms dangled from the ceiling that glittered in use. The place was filled with rare magic indeed, as its fresh taste embedded peace that seemed to keep something lingering within Ildarachi at bay.

  The light above was dizzying at first, but as his eyes adjusted further, he noticed that in the near distance, by a shattered old wooden door, leading into this room, lay two shadowy forms huddled in mystery.

  He could hear their voices, but only one of them stood out. Not a voice now, but a crying whimper that pierced into his very heart. Each sob brought a deeper burden to Jason’s helpless frame. He recognized those tears.

  Aurora!?

  With his memory feint, a ringing sensation in his dulled brain brought shivers down his neck in a slow cold sweat abiding with the rooms altering dimness. The mind had lost all memory or recollection of recent past, however the sound of those cries seemed to deem a memory somehow that was tearing him to pieces as he shook in his bed.

  It was a dreadful tone, consuming him with lost thoughts mixed with pain from the disturbance of one’s own surroundings.

  When the tears faded momentarily, the man found himself laying still again, silent on an alabaster bed, the painful sensation paralyzing him into shock as he could not voice a remembrance at all. The room was a familiar, yet still unknown to him.

  Ildarachi’s vision blurred threatening to take him to the realm of unconscious. Fighting it, he focused harder and harder, trying to pull his spirit into one place, but his spine felt somehow dismantled as if cut on the chopping block and stitched crudely back together. He instead turned his attention to the ethereal sense of the chamber that was hard to deny as its own energy filled his nostrils and took him back to a sense of belonging. Ildarachi looked at the star like rune with the dragon in its center, calling as if fighting its presence was forbidden.

  Other than the now seemingly torturous sobs, no one said a word. All too quiet for Ildarachi's liking, but now, he could hardly move let alone cry for help, but he aimed to, being in this room was driving him crazy so he struggled with his own voice that came in shrill rasps. Every ounce of his entirety stated scream, scream now, but he could not. It came in waves, and as soon as the last one hit, a vomiting sensation occurred, where he tired back into bed. He attempted to call for help again, yet no air came, he just simply sat, upright, vision remaining a haze.

  Simply focus now, was all that he could command himself to do and with an urge of impatience he let out a graceful sigh, freeing the stress and responding to his instincts. He calmed his mind first, focusing on his inner eye, if he could feel for it, he could reach everything, the mind would respond, and it did so well. He let this guidance slowly pour throughout his entire nervous system, his aching back, sweaty palms, numbed feet. The process lasted for several moments, just waiting, breathing, until finally he just sat there, listening to the cries slowly change him to a somber, dire, and yet very calm demeanor. When consciousness was restored, a cloaked figure stood and climbed into the room slowly.

  Their eyes met.

  A cold displeasure at once, as if recognizing each other as an “intruder”. Ildarachi ignored the first impression and searched deeper within the shadow.

  The man was old and strange looking, he thought to himself. The old man’s wrinkles painted a picture of both immense suffering and tremendous joy, that the tortured man felt so acquainted to, yet so vague concerning the old man. It was not until he looked down at the magician attire when he noticed the ancient man's silver embroidered robes that matched his long and graceful beard.

  Shock finally took Ildarachi and he gasped in surprise.

  The guild master himself!?

  He would never forget that face. A wizard of immense power, the man that stood before him now was Phiamon, a man that grew folklore itself, a legend of the highest proportions. No one knew much of his distant past, but some say he started life as an ordinary child that played with magic and turned the world onto its heels from mere magnificence of miraculous power. A natural talent where he could move the tides of the ocean, who fought wars, saved kingdoms and created a new alliance among the neighboring kingdom of Thyne. Now, he was more of a wanderer than a shepherd to his domain of his guild, forsaking most responsibility for scholarly arcane works, however he still held the title to this holy ground, using this very site for the training, commission and employment of the most elite summoner's that Systralas has ever seen in history. This was his guild, by no means anyone else, his territory and his doing.

  Jason quickly managed a slight bow in reverence. He remembered his long-lost role as high summoner, taught by Phiamon himself. He was proud at those accomplishments, but he noticed something unfavorable in that gleaming stare before glancing at the sand dune drawings on the floor. Perhaps fear? It seemed unlikely, but it was there, he decided. To scare an ancient,
seem like folly at best, but there was no hiding behind those eyes, no illusion to be found.

  Just a night to forever change the very balance that all life had begotten.

  The ancient wizard urged his way closer, stepping through the maze, scattering the dust as he walked. The runes under his feet seemed to glow brighter.

  Phiamon appeared skeptical but nevertheless edged his way closer as if in greed, a hunger in his eye that claimed obsession. With nothing out of the ordinary to do, Ildarachi simply sat motionless, awaiting his old master's arrival with a solemn glee a child would have when a father has returned home. Then the emotion turned into fear as if a young one awaiting punishment all locked on from the look of Phiamon’s eyes. The face seemed venomous and Ildarachi could not find hope in his tongue to speak in any turn. He simply waited, hovered over a gloomy look that said nothing he wanted to hear.

  Then it all came back to him.

  Jason had murdered. Many of his fellow summoners were dead now. He remembered now as searing images flashed through his brain. Screams of blood mixed with agony screeched from a prehistoric being brought from the stars that consumed Ildarachi whole. It became him, he decided, looking back and that fateful night, it was he that was killing his brethren like sheep to the slaughter. Friend and foe alike meeting demise from a mirrored personality, a dark entity that arrived through him. A fallen angel, taking the seat of his very own temple, his body and everything from within. All due to those forsaken wyverns. They were attempting to revive Xyl’thos, the green dragon, and succeeded.

  The old withered man was now upon Ildarachi when he spoke silently.

  “It seems that you're not human anymore, Ildarachi,” The old man wheezed with piercing black eyes.

  Jason Ildarachi, sitting on his sweat soaked sheets, simply gulped in response wondering what fortune would beseech him next. Would he have a chance to live a normal life ever again? Or would he even out live the day?

  “Master,” Ildarachi choked. “I’m so sorry,” The summoner was moved by tears.

  Phiamon muttered something underneath his breath.

  A Spell?

  “Ildarachi,” Phiamon began. “You are haunted by Malifer, he is you. With your inhuman nature you cannot remain here any longer. This act was forbidden. Silver Aura is your home no longer.”

  The man on the bed, listened with his head down, filled with horrid remorse at the thoughts of his no being.

  “You are exiled!” Phiamon called.

  “Where do I go then!?” Ildarachi nearly shouted. His heart was broken in two.

  Phiamon crossed his arms, then smiled.

  “You will seek refuge with Golden Hearts,” He stated.” …With her.”

  The shadowy form that was once crying entered the pale lit light, a beautiful woman appeared that wiped away her tears. Jason and her eyes met with love and remembrance.

  “Aurora, you’re alright!” Ildarachi called, staggering out of his bed.

  She ran to Ildarachi and flung herself to the sickened man and embraced him long and hard, the sobbing continued.

  “Silly,” She snuffled. “You can never hurt me.” She said, hugging him even more tight.

  Chapter 2

  “I’ve heard the legend of the Guardians. The ever wise and powerful order amongst Thyne. Supreme beings of unnatural qualities. One would be foolish to take them on in the heat of battle. No doubt, the Emperor Taladori Nai’sen keeps them close to his own regime.”

  Kaeltrys Zalanga

  Archmagician of Golden Hearts

  Suzette Monroe breathed out one last gulp of air before firmly placing the last piece of her plated suit. The final fitting consisted of a rare gray magical entwined breastplate. A highly advanced technological achievement in modern society that was shining with magnificence. Altogether, the masterpiece suited armor would perform functions that were not commonplace for the public. A tracker device was included that scanned every centimeter of the user's movement pattern, breath intakes, magical defense, in addition to specialized observance of heart rate, with a special design that implemented stamina regeneration for the wielder. On top of all its features, the set seemed as light as a feather. The ultimate cardiovascular suit for the best of warriors.

  This equipment was issued out to Suzette months prior to this upcoming task and was finally specified into completion a few short days ago, hurrying the process of the final trial even more so.

  She was ecstatic with the results, it fit her well in every regard and soon she would be an adept wielder of the special device.

  As of now, she gazed upon herself in the mirror, located in one of the various training materials in the holy order’s temple, designed for clerics, but secretly also the home base of the epic Guardians.

  Handsome material, she had to admit to herself, but however, looking closer, she analyzed the mystery within the reflection. Who was this young blonde woman looking almost too girlish gazing back at her? She could not recognize her own face that stood behind the armor.

  Suzette stood alone from a highly estate locker room for the almost sophisticated soldiers in of the entirety of Systralas. The room was dank, wreaking of sweat of her own hard practice, but she did not mind, she had showered now for her endeavor and besides, she smelled her fair share of perspiration and it did not phase her after the many years from the warfront. The compartments all along the walls were gray and hardened with tarnishes meant for holding huge items and stood ten feet wide by twenty feet tall, treasure vaults installed to the walls. Floors underneath her boots were made of marble with areas of carpeted soft spots for safety purposes, all in a blend of bright with warm colors, including dark grey, creamy yellow and rich brown, that was supposedly therapeutic for the eye, an invitation to those that entered.

  Free weights aligned the corners of the vast room, surrounded with treadmills that mimicked the Guardian armor capabilities. Rock walls and athletic designs was implemented past the small yet big commodities, such as a vast hot tub, champion sized pool, drinking fountains of mineral water, as well as showering rooms with private curtains ordained the place. Flowers and candles were built all along sink counters to hide some of the stench of training. There was even a wide screen television set that was ever popular among the nation of Entos. A perfect preparation essential before any mission.

  Being Suzette's first time here, she waged on taking advantage of the whole facility in the morning, leaping from all the devices in a harsh frenzy.

  It was hard to believe that actual Guardian attire was being commissioned to her all so suddenly. Easily a billion Genie suit. The price was so expensive that it was mind boggling, even to her, born of nobility with much success and wealth. Her head was spinning with pleasure and excitement that was felt when adolescence took place many years ago. She thought of the other features available to her in this new exciting career start, tight muscle compression making her as strong as an ox, higher wages, a new mind born into her. For all lack of words all she could do was let her childish nature flow out again.

  “Nice!” She whispered with enthusiasm, over exemplifying her mouthing and drawing the word out in one long breath.

  Looking back over the years, she had always been financially sound and even a military brat had its perks. Like her father, Adama Monroe, he was headstrong and dreamt heavy to bring out the ultimate purpose in life. A lifelong learner in war that was addicted to progression. Adama, being the high general of the entire empire had won many battles tiredly using his own daughter as a frontline defense soldier. She did not care or mind these advances for it only proved her strength time and time again.

  Her father, being an elect for the new presidential democracy, that would be in place after the death of the Emperor Taladori Nai'sen, was a blessing to both of their potential. Dreams were in fruition changing to realities to even grander than themselves. Even with her father's outstanding influence, Suzette had earned her way to the top, reaching lieutenant at seventeen and advanced further beginning
training for the Guardian program three years later only to have half a decade to pass in a blink of an eye through instinctive training.

  Joining a secret organization, was hard for the young Suzette, a vow of secrecy was taken with a reluctance that was commenced when used as a special ops’ agent apprentice. This act enabled the young woman to defend the region of Thyne, with superb tactics, that was included in the most difficult missions.

  The Guardians consisted of masterminds with genetic altering abilities that enhanced the user into super intellect beings, a succession of hyper senses and a huge upgrade on physical strength. These sophisticated battle masters were super humans upon Systralas, and their combat artistry was deemed worthy even among the most powerful of the world. Rumor had it, that they were supposedly as strong as one could ever possibly be, and Suzette was the first to be deemed worthy at such an early age. Being in her mid-twenties now the world was underneath her and at such a ripe age.

  She had to admit to herself, still looking at her reflection in the mirror, the glazing suit of armor pieced together fit her quite well. It was even fashionable, with its faded brown stylized woolly leather straps, not only provided comfort, yet complimented her already sun-bleached blond hair. The rarity of silver consisted of silver gauntlets, sharp bracers, ivy etched grieves and lotus fixed breastplate all matched perfectly well with her pale gray eyes that was penetrating in her now in an almost greedy fashion.

  Never used to looking at herself, Suzette often forgot that she was indeed pretty in the definition of ladyship, however she never took a break long enough to notice her own features at times. Appearing to be strong, even in the battle suit, tender small lips, a few bronzed freckles remained on her pale, but pink blushed face. On the battlefront, a soldier never perfected their make up or hair while in the trenches from the War of the South. The Pits of Gomugaltha brought death and blood where appearance meant nothing. Being commissioned at that horrid place, she knew too well, that only comrade was blade and ally, everything else were nonessential.

  Ignoring the image, almost out of habit, Suzette closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer underneath her breath. She asked out from the Maker for a victory for this last and final stage process so that she might enter the order of true Guardianship. There were now only two more further processes that were demanded to deem her acceptable for such a magnificent role.