Queen of Rebels

by Karim Soliman

  EPILOGUE

  Wang knelt when the wind almost blew him off the rocky ridge. He waited until the wind calmed down somehow, and cautiously he resumed his walk, trying to resist the compulsion of looking left at the deep valley of Jopen and right at the roaring waves of the Edge. Many curious adventurers before him had died because they forgot one important advice: keep your eyes looking ahead.

  The sun was falling down and yet he could not see the end of this ridge. Was his destination that far or was he walking too slowly? He did not let the thought distract him for long and kept his mind and eyes preoccupied with the next spot he should step over. When the sky darkened and the sun was gone, he sat where he was, his back as straight as he could strain it. He wanted to sleep, but he knew if he did he would end up sleeping forever, either at the rocky foot of the mountain or at the seabed of the Edge.

  Night was shorter here than anywhere else, yet after an arduous journey from Kyoto to the easternmost part of Gorania, he lacked the strength to prevent his heavy eyelids from falling down. It was a battle between exhaustion and fear of death, and gradually, exhaustion was winning. No, Wang. Your vision didn't bring you here to die. Would it be the first time his gift deluded him?

  Silence was not helping, so he loudly intoned his prayers to the Light, the Lord of Sky and Earth. "Don't let me lose the way. Don't let my ignorance shake my faith," he repeated countless times between his prayers.

  He was awake, alive, when dawn was breaking. "Forgive me for doubting Your arrangements." He gazed at the horizon, watching the orange color slowly taking over the dark blue canvas of the sky. Now able to see where he set his foot, he rose and resumed his walk. It was less foggy this morning, and to his surprise, the mountain he was trying to reach was only a couple of miles away. My prayers are answered.

  The first thing he did upon finishing his passage over the ridge was feasting his eyes on the majestic sight of the foamy waves crashing on the rocky coast hundreds of feet below, of the endless blue sea which was ironically called the Edge. He could not help imagining what lay beneath that edge. Another sea or a whole new world? Now he could understand the curiosity of those who wanted to sail east, hoping they could have a look at the farthest point of their world. Shame no one had ever returned to tell what they had seen. How can you reach the shore in the first place? The sides of the mountains facing the sea were too steep to descend on your own, let alone with a boat.

  "You have arrived at last," a feminine voice came from behind him. Realizing that he was standing at the cliff, he stepped back before he turned and warily studied the short lady who had seemingly come from nowhere, her black hair ponytailed. Over her slender frame, she wore a long orange cloak that made him wonder what weapon she might be hiding underneath.

  "Nobody catches me unawares."

  "You don't seem surprised though." She folded her arms. "You know why you are here?"

  His visions usually did not provide him with all the answers. "I only know that I was fated to be here." He peered at her. "You surely know more than that."

  "I know that the Last Day is about to begin, and that I shall prepare the one who finds me to warn the Goranians."

  Wang wondered if she knew more than what was written in the ancient scrolls about the Last Day. Because he had not just read about it; he had seen it. The images were so vivid and the voices were so clear that he could swear they were all real. White sand covered the ground and the mountains. The sun was ten times brighter than it was now, spreading a huge white curtain over the entire sky that you could see the sky and the sun as one, if your eyes endured the glow in the first place. Coming from everywhere were the scariest cries he had ever heard. He did not see those crying "creatures", but he knew it was them; the residents of Si'oli.

  "The Last Day is inevitable," he told her. "It will be pointless to warn them while they have no means of stopping it."

  She sighed. "Stopping the Last Day could be someone else's purpose. We should only worry about our own."

  "How do you know it is not your purpose to warn them? You were surely told about the beginning of the Last Day for a reason."

  "I can never survive Gorania, but you can. You will always see your chasers coming."

  Why couldn't she? "Aren't you...?"

  "Gifted like you? I wish. Yes, I can occasionally see, but unlike you, I can't do that without assistance."

  There was only one sort of assistance to help you foresee. "You are a mage. A demon summoner."

  "Is it that a reason for you to distrust me?"

  Was she serious? "Your evil art is the root of the impending doom you want me to warn the Goranians about."

  She peered at him, leaning forward. "And you shall learn that evil art to serve the purpose you were created for."

  The higher the gift you have the harder the test you get, he thought to himself. The path the mage was guiding to was a path he should walk away from, he always knew that. But here was where his gift had led him. Was that the start of his downfall?

  Don't let me lose the way. Don't let my ignorance shake my faith.

  "You are going to teach me how to summon a demon?" he warily asked her.

  A hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. "The demon has been summoned already."

  Kingdoms and People of Gorania

  Bermania

  There are many reasons for the Bermanian Pride. They are the descendants of Goran the Great, which makes them—as they claim—the rightful heirs of the Goranian throne. The greatest city in Gorania is their capital; Paril or the Jewel of Bermania. The finest knights and strongest horses are raised in their lands. Their weather is neither Murasen-hot nor Rusakian-cold.

  Along thousands of years, the Bermanians' stance toward other realms has varied, but their long-standing enmity with Byzonta has been an exception. The mountainous realm used to be part of Augarin, Bermania's southernmost region.

  It is always a debate whose cavalry is the best; Bermanians or Murasens. There is nothing in the ancient Tales of Gorania about a battle between the two mighty kingdoms.

  PEOPLE OF BERMANIA

  From the noble houses warring for the throne

  RONA, daughter of the late King Charlwood

  GRAMUS, General of Queen Rona

  DARRISON, lord of Neldon

  JEREK, duke of Kalhom

  EDMOND, Captain of the garrison of Neldon

  JONSON, senior lord from the Ramosi region

  NORWELL, Jonson's nephew

  LANARK, lord from the region of Kalhom

  DI GALIO, the Fox, Duke of Ramos, the Lord Marshal of Bermania

  ABERTO, Di Galio's brother, lord of Subrel

  WILANDER, King of Bermania

  FOUBERT, Duke of Karun

  DAVAL, Duke of Augarin

  ANVIL, Captain from Ramos

  From Herlog

  DOLY, Masolon's wife, Nell's daughter

  SMIT, village's elder

  BEN, one of the Brave Lads

  MAAT, one of the Brave Lads

  EDD, one of the Brave Lads

  TED, one of the Brave Lads

  Murase

  Murase is blessed with warm winters and cursed with hot summers. Some attribute its weather to its proximity to the sun that rises from the east. Others believe that the hot air in Murase comes from the gate of hell that lies at their southern borders; the Great Desert. According to the Tales of Gorania, the Great Desert is ten times hotter than Murasen desert, making the Murasen desert a paradise if compared with it.

  Most of the Murasen terrain is sandy, except the Green Crescent that surrounds the Blue Crescent River. The castle of Kurdisan was built to defend the arable land against the endless raids of the Mankols who claim their ownership to the Green Crescent.

  The nomadic tribes are actually the rulers of the Murasen desert, making travelling from a city to another without strong guard a suicide. One great clan among them is the fearful Ghosts, who resemble night beasts in their ability to see in the dark.


  Rusakia

  Rusakians have a special bond with snow. Snow is part of their blood (literally, they believe so), and it is their protective shield that has always defended them against their enemies. A city like Durberg was built a long time ago far north to be always the Rusakians' last shelter in case an enemy invaded them. According to the Tales of Gorania, it happened thousands of years ago that the Mankols once pushed the Rusakians north beyond Pyotsberg. But when winter came, Rusakians marched from Durberg and the castle Sabirev, and vanquished their frozen invaders for good.

  The tension seldom settles down between Rusakia and its neighbors, especially with Bermania, because of the eternal dispute over the great fortress of Karun that was named after the first-born son of King Goran the Great. It never happened that the great fortress had remained more than two decades in a row in the same kingdom. Rusakians claim that the fortress had always been a Rusakian land before the age of the Goranian Empire.

  Byzonta

  Byzonta is named after Baizent, who declared himself the first King of Byzonta, ending decades of the Bermanian sovereignty over this southwestern mountainous pocket. For centuries, the Bermanians had tried to reconquest this realm, but they were never able to make use of their powerful cavalry on the Byzont bumpy lands. The Byzonts, on the other hand, have proved themselves the masters of defense. They used to have their own cavalry force until their crushing defeat, hundreds of years ago, in one of the rare occasions they fought away from their homeland. Since then, infantry and sharpshooters have been forming the majority of the Byzont army.

  Byzonts are also masters of spices and herbs, which makes them the most skillful chefs and the deadliest assassins in Gorania. Their merchants rule the naval trade business alongside the Skandivians, but their smugglers are unrivaled.

  Skandivia

  Skandivians call themselves the Sons of Giants. Although their tales about their ten-feet-tall ancestors seem to be exaggerated, Skandivians remain the tallest men in Gorania.

  Skandivian armies do not rely so much on cavalry; a sort of honoring the legacy of their ancient grandfathers who never used horses in their wars. A giant never needs a horse, they say. Which makes them the deadliest foot warriors in the lands of Gorania.

  An entire map of Gorania was drawn one thousand years ago, thanks to the bravery of Skandivian adventurous explorers. However, they never knew what lied beyond the Great Desert—which is believed to be the end of the Goranian world.

  The war between Rusakia and Skandivia at their borders occasionally stops, but the case is a bit different with Bermania, where their history together is full of ups and downs.

  Characters from Skandivia

  GALARDI, merchant from Kalensi

  Mankola

  Mankols are warriors by instinct thanks to their bloody tribal conflicts that tore their lands apart. But that reign ended one hundred years ago when Sanjar united the clans and called himself the Kaan of all Mankols—which means 'king' in the old Mankol tongue. Since then, the Mankol realm has become a threat to its neighbors with its huge army and endless gold.

  The Mankols stand out from all other Goranian factions with their own beliefs and values. First, the majority of them do not worship the Lord of Sky and Earth—a fact that makes them loathed by other factions. Second, horses are essential components of their lives since their early childhood. It's said that: "You may find a Mankol without a house; but not without a horse." A Mankol who can't ride a horse is not a Mankol. It's not strange, then, that the Mankol army has no infantry. Even archers are mounted. According to the Tales of Gorania, Mankols can speak the tongue of horses.

  Third, unlike other Goranians, Mankols don't trade internally with gold—which is of little value to them. They only use it in their trades with other realms.

  Strangely enough, Mankols don't rely on castles to defend their lands. However, any foreign commander, who may think of invading the Mankols, must put into consideration that he's going to face the masters of open field battles. He has to survive endless hordes of the fastest cavalry in Gorania.

  Koya

  Most of Goranians do not consider the islands of Koya part of Gorania. The fact that it's the only kingdom that was never conquered by Goran the Great could be the reason for that.

  As they were never involved in big wars with other factions, Koyans are believed to be peaceful people. Still they have the biggest fleet in Gorania to watch over their shores.

  The only bond between Koyans and other realms is naval trading. Generally, they don't live outside their islands, and in return, no outsider is allowed to live in Koya. Another reason for Goranians to ignore the existence of Koyans, and also to weave a lot of myths around the Koyan's mysterious life in their isolated islands. To name a few of those myths: Koyans teach sorcery to their kids; dragons, rocs, and mammoths do exist in their islands; Koyans' boats can sail unharmed through the Boiled Eyes and they know secret gates in the water that take them to the Endless Sea.

  Acknowledgments

  Huge thanks go to my Wattpad readers who made me believe in Masolon and Rona's tale. Your relentless support was the fuel that kept me going in my writing journey until Masolon's serialized tale became a 'real' book.

  Thanks to my wizard Stefanie Saw for her brilliant artwork. Again, she did it.

  Thanks to my mentor and editor Yasmin Amin. Working with you was a real pleasure.

  My tireless support team and advisors: Katrin Hollister, Gaby Cabezut, Debbie Joelz, Jessica Fry, Rosa Aimee, and Sandra Grayson. Writing is a long journey that needs friends like you.

  Thanks to my dearest friend from the good old school days Ahmed Khaled who was taking Masolon's business in Gorania as seriously as I was. I enjoyed our debates over the phone about my plot twists.

  Last but not least, a million thanks to my family; my wife and cheerleader May whose faith in our dream keeps me going forward, my sweet angel Soojy for tolerating my mental absence while writing this series, my baby Groot Mostafa for allowing me to work on my own laptop without breaking it, my mother for nurturing my love of books and writing, and my father for providing a five-year-old child with his blank yearly planner to write his first story.

  About the Author

  Karim Soliman earned his first writing commission through his contribution in the first and last issue of his classroom magazine. Twenty years later, he earned his next commission from Sony Pictures.

  Born in Egypt, where he lives with his wonderful wife and two children, Karim works as a brand manager of neuropsychiatric drugs. He holds a Master's degree in Business Administration, just in case he decides to pursue the CEO pathway.

  Through Wattpad, Karim has built his fan base since he started serializing his fantasy and sci-fi novels online. When he is away from writing, he struggles with his insomnia and continues his search for his next favorite dessert.

  Where to find Karim Soliman

  Website:

  https://authorkarimsoliman.com

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/authorKarimSoliman

  Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/Kariem28

  Instagram:

  https://www.instagram.com/kariem28/

  Wattpad:

  https://www.wattpad.com/user/KarimSuliman

  Coming soon

  THRONE OF RUINS

  BOOK THREE OF

  TALES OF GORANIA

  KARIM SOLIMAN

  SANIA

  "A spy in the palace?" Sania was alarmed by Qasem's news. That malicious Dehawy had started his war for the throne in such a critical hour. It's no coincidence, she thought. Byzonts amassing their army near the western Murasen frontiers, rumors about a probable Mankol attack from the north, and now a spy in the royal palace of Kahora; that had been all arranged from the beginning. Rasheed must be informed. Taking her brother and her uncle with him, her husband had already set off for the castle of Arkan, but he could not have gone too far. A rider on a swift horse would catch the marchi
ng troops in less than an hour.

  "I will send a word to King Rasheed," Qasem announced his decision, not waiting for her opinion though. How dare he? She was the only ruler of this palace in the King's absence. The captain should rather ask, 'Shall I send a word to King Rasheed?'

  "How can you be so sure that she is a spy?" Sania asked firmly, just to challenge Qasem, to make him know who was in charge. Yes, truly, how can he be so sure? Now she was weighing the matter more seriously than she had started it. Her husband should not be bothered by any sort of nonsense. "I will not disturb His Majesty with a ridiculous tale of some maidservant, who acted foolishly because she was scared of his guards."

  "Your Majesty, we are sure she's not one of our maidservants," Qasem confirmed. "Nobody knows her except our Bermanian guest. He is waiting outside already if you want to ask him."

  Rona's messenger? Astounded, Sania's eyes widened. Was it possible she was involved in Dehawy's treacherous plot? But that would make no sense. If she was one of Dehawy's dogs, why would she warn her and her husband from the Byzonts?

  "Besides," Qasem continued, "she was armed."

  Sania gaped when Qasem produced the dagger he had found with the maidservant—as he said. Thanks to what her brother had taught her about weapons, she could tell the dagger was not Murasen at all. It even looks familiar. She was not sure, but she felt she had seen a similar dagger once. Only one man could confirm her doubts.