Origins
Page 1
Origins
A Seventeen Series Novel Book Five
A D Starrling
Copyright
Origins (A Seventeen Series Novel) Book Five
Copyright © AD Starrling 2017. All rights reserved. Registered with the UK and US Copyright Services.
Revised first eBook edition: 2017
www.ADStarrling.com
The right of AD Starrling to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the prior written consent of the author, excepting for brief quotes used in reviews. Your respect of the author’s rights and hard work is appreciated.
Request to publish extracts from this book should be sent to the author at ads@adstarrling.com
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people (living or dead), events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used factitiously. All other characters, and all other incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Editor: Right Ink On The Wall (www.rightinkonthewall.com)
Cover: Streetlight Graphics (www.streetlightgraphics.com)
Dedication
To the real heroes
Contents
Want A Free Boxset And Exclusive Extras?
Immortal Empire Map I
Immortal Empire Map II
Family Tree I
The Royal Cities
Prologue
I. Part One: Genesis
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
II. Part Two: Defiance
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
III. Part Three: War
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
Family Tree II
The Reborn Souls
Thank You
Your Free Boxset And Exclusive Extras
Acknowledgments
Facts and Fictions
About the Author
Also by A D Starrling
Mission:Black Extract
Want A Free Boxset And Exclusive Extras?
Find out how at the end of the book or click the link below now.
http://bit.ly/1YndWmB
Immortal Empire Map I
Immortal Empire Map II
Family Tree I
The Royal Cities
Uryl – Capital of the Empire
Larraak - Navia and Malachi
Marii – Jared and Beatrix
Lagaesh – Baruch and Hosanna
Issin – Mila and Kronos
Larsaa – Tobias and Ysa
Urim – Rafael and Phebe
Lunar month – one month
New Moon – first day of the month
Full Moon – fifteenth day of the month
Half Moon – one week
Quarter day – six hours
One league – approximately three miles
Prologue
And as he walked through the Kingdom of Heaven, God came upon an Archangel looking down at the Dominion of Earth.
When He sensed the musings of the Archangel, He stopped and spoke thusly, ‘I see that you are much troubled by the Fate of Mankind, oh wisest and oldest of my Angels. Speak your mind and I shall listen.’
The Archangel was quiet for some time.
'My Lord, I have seen the Future and the End of Days,’ he finally said. ‘I foresee a Holy War unlike any we have ever seen, between the most powerful of all your Creations. And I fear it may unleash an Era of Darkness that will consume all that was and all that will be.’
And God said, ‘Do you have so little Faith in your brothers and me that you believe us unable to face such powerful foes?’
The Archangel bowed his head.
‘No, my Lord,’ he said. ‘That you and my brothers will triumph is not in question. But the Creations you put so much love into bringing to life will perish. All of them. And that would be a great pain to bear for all who survive. Even as we speak, those who have fallen into Darkness and live in the absence of your Divine Light are filled with hatred for your other Creations, above all Mankind, whom you made in your image. I sense their growing determination to destroy Humanity, in order to avenge themselves upon you.’
God gazed at the Archangel for a while before speaking. ‘Mankind failed me once, when they succumbed to temptation. Since then, Sin has been a part of the daily life of Man. Your words lead me to think that you believe them worthy of redemption.’
The Archangel looked at his maker and saw both the challenge and the answer in his unworldly eyes. ‘Yes, my Lord, I do. For they are born of you, as am I and everything in existence. We all carry your divine essence. As such, we are all worthy of redemption, even those who have fallen. That Mankind was created in your image makes them even more so. It is for this reason that I believe they should be given the chance to earn their rightful place at your side, at the End of Days. I believe their existence and their potential should not be denied.’
God smiled at the Archangel and said, ‘Of all my Creations, Mankind is the weakest, both in body and in mind. Do you truly think they can stand on an equal footing with an army of Divine beings?’
The Archangel smiled back and replied, ‘If you allow me, I will lend them my hand so as to make them worthy of such a station, my Lord.’
And God said, ‘Then find me a man who can earn my forgiveness and who deserves your strength and wisdom.’
Part One: Genesis
Chapter One
‘In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the Angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.’ Isaiah 63:9
3750 BC
The man gazed at the fiery sun blazing down upon him and the desert all around. At the edge of the horizon, sky and land merged, palest blue and whitest sand twisting in a rippling mirage that threatened to engulf the entire world. He wiped his brow and took another step, the staff at his side aiding his laborious trek across the shifting ground.
Seven days and six nights had passed since he left his village in search of a cure for his dying children. He had travelled east, as advised by the Elder who had spoken of a place where he could find salvation. A mountain lost in the wilderness, known to few and treacherous to reach. And inside the deepest, darkest cave within this forbidding mass of rock, a spring whose waters were said to be endowed with the power to cure all.
The Elder's words were ignored by most of the villagers, who chose only to see an old fool whose mind was lost to time and age. Even when disease befell the surrounding settlements and burning pyres darkened the sky, none believed his words. But when illne
ss crossed his doorstep and started slowly killing his children, the man who had lived for longer than most went to the Elder to find out more. For no prayer or sacrifice could sway the sickness that had darkened the land from east to west, a plague borne on the wind that few escaped, an illness unlike anything he had seen in his extended life.
And so, four days after his sons collapsed from the fever ravaging their young bodies, and two days more after they fell into a slumber so deep none could rouse them, the man bade his wives goodbye and set off on a perilous journey from which he knew there might be no return.
This thought never deterred him, for he had faith. Faith that he would find a way, somehow. Faith that his sons would be cured. Faith that there had to be a reason for this plague and that time would tell what that reason was.
Into the desert he walked, one lone man, his father’s staff at his side and a goat-skin sack across his back. Inside the sack were water-filled gourds made from sheep's bladders, dried fruit, bread, and a blanket.
The first three days passed without event, the landscape devoid of any threat bar the blazing heat and the cold nights. But as the mountains to the north faded into nothingness and he entered the true desert, the man discovered he had been lulled into a false sense of security. Soon, dunes as tall as twenty men soared in his path and vicious sandstorms whipped at his skin and clothes, slowing his progress and sapping his energy. When darkness fell and a wintry cold pricked his skin, the calls of creatures he could not see kept him awake for most of the night. Serpents and scorpions proved to be yet another, more silent threat. To pause in the shade of a rock or sit under an acacia tree meant tempting their deadly bites and stings.
As dusk descended upon his seventh day in the desert, the man discovered he was down to half a gourd of water. He had come across a shallow, dry streambed two nights previously, close to some rocks where grass and a handful of spiny shrubs grew. An hour of painstaking digging had unearthed a shallow pocket of water deep beneath the sand. The next day, he had saved his rations further by drinking from the fat leaves he had picked off the plants, which were heavy with a thick, bitter fluid that went some way toward quenching his thirst. He was also running low on food, a fact reflected in his increasingly weakened state.
When darkness fell, a full moon rose to the east and bathed the desert in an eerie light. The man stopped for a moment, startled by the sight. He had not expected the moon to be so plump and bright for another five days. Puzzled, he counted slowly on his fingers. His gaze shifted back to the white disc in the star-speckled sky. There was no doubt in his mind. Unless he had lost time in the desert he was unaware of, this was an unusual phenomenon indeed.
All thoughts of the moon were wiped away by the wave of lassitude that suddenly washed over him. He swayed where he stood. Shadows rose from the ground some fifty feet to his right. He stumbled over and discovered a clump of trees and shrubs. A scattering of dead branches and twigs lay on the ground. It was as good a place as any to stop for the night. He collected kindling and soon had a meager fire going.
It was the growling that woke him. Deep and feral, the sounds reverberated through his bones and roused him from the heavy slumber that had claimed him. He bolted upright, heart pounding in his chest and sweat drenching his skin despite the coolness of the night. For a moment, he thought he had dreamt the noise. It came again, low and guttural. A shiver danced down his spine, scattering the last of his fatigue. He peered into the dark and tried to see which direction the threatening sounds had come from.
A short distance behind him, something blocked out the lower section of the sky. It was a sand dune. A roar suddenly shattered the air, bringing him unsteadily to his feet.
There was little doubt in his mind that whatever was making that noise lay behind the shadowy ridge.
The fire had died down. The man threw more kindling upon it and lit the stoutest branch he could find. He hesitated, debating his choices. He could either walk out into the night, away from whatever danger lay behind him, or he could try to scare it away, whatever it proved to be.
The fact that traversing the land would be doubly perilous in the dark sealed his fate. He could also only go so far before weakness got the better of him. So the man gripped the flame torch and his walking stick and headed for the sand dune.
The ridge grew in stature the closer he got. By the time he reached the base, it rose some fifteen feet tall, curving away at the edges. He pondered his approach. Height would be an advantage against whatever he would face on the other side. He started to climb.
The sand shifted languorously beneath his sandals, wrapping around his legs almost to mid-calf in deceptively smooth sinkholes eager to halt his every step. He grunted and forged ahead, his determination growing, the torch throwing his shadow across his rapidly filling footprints. He knew he was wasting the last of his energy making undue haste, but he wanted whatever was going to happen over and done with.
He reached the summit of the dune and gasped at the sight that met his eyes.
Chapter Two
The moon sat directly in the sky above him, ghostly light cast in a stark beam that lit up the incredible scene below and highlighted every ghastly detail.
To his right, a stranger stood with his back facing the west wall of the ridge. A pale, hooded cloak covered his body, masking his face in shadows. There was a simple staff in his right hand and a crow perched on his left shoulder.
Had his gaze not been drawn to the frightful beasts prowling the ground a short distance from the stranger, the man would have found the sight of the bird somewhat incongruous.
Claws stabbing sand, maws parted to reveal sharp, glinting teeth half the size of the man’s hand, two large lions stood facing the stranger. The beasts were some nine feet long and almost half as tall, with luxurious, dark manes that flowed from their brows all the way down their backs. Though terrifying in appearance, they were stunningly beautiful creatures to behold.
The stranger stood still, fingers loose around his staff, his posture relaxed. The bird was similarly motionless, beady eyes focused unflinchingly on the giant creatures, feathers glossy black under the moonlight.
The man swallowed and glanced at his torch and walking stick. They seemed paltry weapons indeed against the fearsome animals below him.
One of the lions suddenly danced forward and pawed the air in front of the stranger’s face, jaws open in a terrifying growl.
The man found his feet moving against his own volition. He was down the dune and into the fray in a matter of heartbeats, his path delivering him between the beasts and the stranger. And there he stood, torch held aloft in one hand, staff grasped tightly in the other, stance wide and steady despite the tremors running through his body.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered what insanity had possessed him to think he could fight off these creatures. Then he looked into the animals’ snarling faces and his fear faded.
He was a man who had always done the right thing, for as long as he could recall. Though he had lived beyond the time that should have been his, on account of his exceptional ancestry, his was a simple life. On the piece of land that had been in his family for hundreds of years and that abutted the place he had called home, he grew crops and tended a mixed herd of animals. It was enough to feed his wives and his two young sons, and there were even leftovers with which to barter with the traveling merchants who came through their valley, granting them rare goods they would not otherwise find in the village.
One of the principles by which he lived was to do unto others that which he would have done unto himself. It was a life lesson indoctrinated in him by his father many years past, one that been passed down the generations of long-lived men and women in their family, a canon he was now teaching his own sons.
And this, right here, was the virtuous thing to do. Even if he died, even if it meant never finding a cure for his sons, he knew he could not live with his conscience if he did not do his utmost to save the life of another.
/> So he straightened, took a step toward the creatures and waved the torch, calling out, ‘Away with you, beasts!’
The lions blinked, as if in disbelief. The man took another step, his resolve unshaken, and shouted the command again. The lions surged forth, deadly bodies coiling tightly for the spring. The man stood his ground, his heart drumming rapidly in his breast.
That was when the stranger spoke.
It was a sound unlike any the man had ever heard. A song reaching down into the depths of his soul, it danced down his spine and raised the hairs on his arms. It also stopped the lions in their tracks.
The beasts dropped on their haunches. Ears flicking back, they stared at a spot just beyond the man’s right shoulder, where the stranger stood.