Spirit Followers

by Lydia Redwine

  They had to remain focused.

  Owen was the recently appointed leader of Medulla. He had people to lead towards truth, which was a daunting task seeing how the Medulla Realm citizens had lived under the manipulating rule of Silva and Kazbek for decades. Silva and Kazbek had given the people what they wanted, even their own daughter. As for Cam, she had been journeying through Mirabelle for the past few months, visiting the realms, acting as the Royalty Realm's diplomat. The Medulla Realm was her last and by far her favorite. During the day, when the nightmares were prevented from haunting her, she delighted in the company of Adria, Mista, and Amelia.

  "We'll venture into the villages tomorrow," Owen told her, changing the subject. "It would be prudent for them to see you, especially those who know you."

  Owen was right. Ever since the new government of Mirabelle, consisting of Spirit Followers, was instituted, several riots had erupted in Medulla and Gnosi. Those who were on Apollyon's side were in the minority but refused to yield completely to the values the Spirit Followers held. As Owen pointed out, if the people of the Medulla Realm realized that some of their own people were on the Spirit Followers' side, they may follow such an influence. Cam's purpose in the Medulla Realm wasn't just to gather information. If she showed the people that she was allied with the Spirit Followers but still cared for their well-being, they may come to accept the new ways of their nation.

  The only problem was, Cam was not a Spirit Follower. She did not yet possess the knowledge and understanding to make the decision to dedicate her life as one. All she knew was that she had been against Apollyon and any alliances he had had.

  "Maybe you can give a few words of encouragement." Cam accepted Owen's suggestion. What she would say tomorrow would give her something to think about when she went back to sleep if she would even dare such an attempt. For a long moment, both Cam and Owen kept quiet. Only the trickling of a nearby fountain resounded in her eardrums until she spoke up.

  “How is the progress of the Crown coming?” She and Owen had not spoken of the sought-after Caelae Crown since his first mention of it. Owen put a finger to his lips. The topic of the crown was supposed to be secret. But this was the dead of night, in a place only her family ventured in. Cam was assured they would be safe here.

  "Nothing much has happened really," Owen replied quietly, gazing at the ground. His thoughts seemed to be swirling madly. "We have a lead, though. Queen Elizabeth of Nazeria has found information that would lead us to believe that someone east of here knows the whereabouts of the crown."

  Cam locked her gaze with Owen’s, attempting to search his thoughts. “TheApollyon ordeal will never be truly over until we find the truth. There is more to him and the crown than we know. And Leviathan...he has vanished.” She said it as a statement but it was more of a question. Owen understood and nodded in agreement.

  “The rumor isn’t much, but it’s all we have. It’s a risk but we’re prayerfully considering forming a new group to search out this person…if he or she is even in existence.” Owen paused, sweeping his eyes to the magical tree, blossoming in the center of the garden. “And who knows, this person could have the answers to everything we need to know about the Crown.” Cam soaked in Owen’s words.

  The crown’s value was difficult for her to comprehend. If there truly was such a thing and it was important to keep it from the clutches of evil, Cam desired to be part of such a purpose. She was young. There were many years yet to fill with adventure and perhaps her intention in life was to seek truth in every situation.

  Eventually, she and Owen fell asleep in the garden. She had no more nightmares or dreams that she could recall.

  An hour after the morning meal with her sisters and Amelia, the two set out to the nearest village. Owen informed her that the trip would be nothing special. They would simply converse with the villagers. The village, as usual, was awake and moving by the time they arrived. Men, women and older children were scattered in the forests and village walkways. Their homes were sturdy structures built high in the trees with bridges crossing overhead. More people were overhead than on the ground. The Medulla Realm had eleven villages, most of them quite small. The one nearest the center of the realm was the largest. Several of the smaller ones were near the fields and vast, open plains where the food of the nation was cultivated.

  Cam and Owen decided to travel to the far reaches of the realm to a village on the edge of a stretch of farmland. The farmers were scattered among the crops and yellow grasses, which due to the spring rains, were turning a bright green. Some of the people glanced up from their work to view the passers. Some halted in their work to soak in the sight of the two young people walking side by side. Owen, Cam knew, made frequent visits to all parts of the realms. But these people hadn't seen Cam in months. Most knew her because she had grown up among them. To her dismay, they did not all offer amiable smiles and waves. Instead, they offered blank expressions. Owen had purposely brought her to a part of the realm where those still loyal to Silva and Kazbek, their former leaders, dwelled. The rebels, as she now called them, had segregated from the rest of the realm.

  Cam and Owen passed field after field before entering another village in which they halted for an early mid-day meal. Most villagers ate in their own homes, but there were a few taverns, built mainly for the hard workers to indulge in after a long day of work. The tavern was filling up quickly as the sun reached its pivotal point in the clear sky. Cam and Owen both ordered rabbit stew and a small flask of ale. Cam hardly ever drank, but she accepted the liquid to relieve her of recent stress. The man behind the counter was young, perhaps mid-twenties. His blond hair hung over one side of his face.

  “You’re Camaria Briar, right?” he addres sed Cam. “Caddell actually. I’m Camaria Caddell.” Most people in the Medulla Realm knew her by her adopted parents’ last name. After the institution of new government, she had taken her father’s and her true last name.

  “Don’t see why you would even show up here,” the young man remarked, leaning over on the counter. His eyes were dark and calculating. Cam glanced sideways at Owen who was distracted by a woman he was conversing with. “Silva and Kazbek should be our leaders not him.” The man, or as Cam saw him now-the boy shot Owen a snarky glare.

  “For your information, Kazbek is dead and Silva…” Cam trailed off but maintained the low voice she was implementing to mimic the boy. The boy’s jaw tightened for a moment as his gaze fixed upon her. At this point, Owen turned back to Cam, leaving the woman to go.

  “They always gave mewhat I wanted,” theboy remarked, his cocky countenance returning. Cam looked at him with puzzlement. “Your sister was well…should we say, desirable? Her name was umm…Terra, Ibelieve. Ican't quiteremember." At his words, Cam's stomach clenched, and her fingers balled up into a fist.

  “Y-you are from her past,” she accused. He raised his arms defensively.

  "Not me, my father, though."

  Feeling sick, Cam turned away from the boy only to be confronted by an extremely confused Owen. Though she knew he desired an explanation, Cam pushed past him. She could hear the snickering of the boy and Owen slipping off his stool.

  She broke out of the tavern. The appearance of the village had darkened now. An unexpected overcast sky loomed overhead. Cam's arm was pulled back. She turned, seeing Owen, grabbing at her. "Don't run away from me, Cam," he commanded, gently. "What's wrong with you?" She glared at him. She was suddenly angry with herself. She should have told Owen, one of her closest companions, the truth about Terra. Instead, he had to hear it from some arrogant bastard.

  Owen grasped her shoulders, forcing her to stand still. Her eyes glazed over as she watched the words of the young man form a realization in Owen’s mind. “What about Terra? Tell me!” he was almost shouting. Cam stuttered, trying to force the words out. They stood in a crowded street with eyes trained upon them. Owen didn’t seem to notice, however, as Cam did. His mind was spinning with terror-stricken thoughts.

  That
night, it was Owen who needed more comfort. They found

  themselves in the garden again at night, wrapped in blankets. Cam related to Owen everything as soon as they had arrived home. When she left him, he was slumped over, fighting tears.

  The next morning, Cam prepared to visit Owen’s mother Asta before her departure from Medulla. The visit to Medulla as a whole had proved to be more painful than delightful. She bid farewell for the time being to Adria and Mista, pulling them each into a tight embrace. Amelia wrapped Cam in her arms and whispered words of encouragement. Owen squeezed her shoulder as he left her at the realm’s border.

  “Comeback soon, Cam,” hesaid ina quiet tone. Theyshared a sadness no one else knew. Adria and Mista both had knowledge of Terra’s past but both were too young to realize its terrible significance. Cam wondered how she would ever explain such an incident when they began inquiring.

  From the point of Medulla’s border, Cam was left on her own to travel by horseback. She had traveled alone to the Royalty Realm but that was in the dead of night. In the brightness of day, one might think she’d feel safer on such a trip. But the truth was, the haunting feelings she had collected from her Medulla Realm visit only weighed on her like a burden.

  “The Mineral Magic of Mirabelle can only be destroyed in two ways both of which use the higher kinds of magic. The first, is Caelae, that which is the ultimate good. And the second is that of the Infernal Cities which is the ultimate evil.”

  -From the diary of Cassia Caddell written during the Third Age

  Epilogue

  At mid-morning, Cam swung open the front door of her stately

  home without knocking. The house was a peaceful quiet, as it usually was with only she and her father occupying it. She rushed to put her baggage away and changed into clean clothing before calling for her father.

  “He isn’t here,” a low voice told her. She whirled in the hall lined with ornate decorations and dark paneled wood to see Peter standing yards from her, hands thrust into his pockets.

  “Peter,” Cam breathed, surprised to see him. “What br ings you here?”

  He neared her into two quick strides. “I need to speak to you.” She nodded slowly before leading him into her own private sitting room. She poured herself a cup of tea and offered the same to him. He waved it away.

  “How was your journey?” he inquired. Peter had yet to hear of her visit to Medulla. She only told him it was successful, sparing him the details of her most recent realm visit. “And the rebels?”

  “Few but persistent,” Cam replied with a sigh. “Owen does a good job at keeping them at bay. How are you and Saffira faring?”

  Peter shook his head. "Not as well. The riots are larger and more frequent every day." He drew in a long breath as he leaned to peer absentmindedly into the hearth, which danced with a merry fire. "We are beginning to become far more concerned about them. Turns out Apollyon's revolt could be the spark to start a war."

  “I thought we won the war,” Cam replied.

  “Those were only a few battles. No onehas truly won yet but the Spirit Followers do have the upper hand.”

  Cam glanced into her cup. “As I told Owen, Apollyon’s rebellion will never be truly over until we find the truth.” “And I suppose Owen told you about the rumor we’ve heard,” Peter added. Cam nodded. “I think it’s too risky. I wouldn’t join the Seekers.” The Seekers is what they now called the group of people being assembled to evacuate Mirabelle in search of someone who had answers.

  "I would," Cam stated, without remembering deciding to say such a thing. She didn't actually know if she would join the Seekers. All she knew was that she desired to discover the truth. Another question arose, however. How could anyone outside of Mirabelle have answers to their own problems?

  Peter frowned. “Don’t do it, Cam. Don’t even think about it. That is why I came here; to bid you not to do so.” A spark of indignation ignited in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t his place to command her of such a thing. He continued, “It isn’t safe, Cam. Who knows what is out there.”

  The way he said her name...as if she were a child. “Oh and I suppose the Shadow Prison was safe and so was the entire journey during the revolt,” she retorted, raising her voice to a height she hadn't intend. A hurt expression flickered across Peter’s blue eyes.

  “I’m not sayingyou’reincapable, Cam…Ijust don’t want you to go. We don’t get to see each other much as it is…” he trailed off, gazing steadily at her.

  “Then come with me,” she replied quietly. Although he shook his head he did not press the subject further.

  The conversation could not continue, for a sudden bang of the front door rumbled down the hall. Cam rose quickly to her feet as a disheveled looking figure burst into the room. Once the man realized her had found occupants in the house he halted.

  Hastily, he dipped into a brief bow before asking, “Where is Lord Caddell?”

  “On the river with some of the Royals,” Peter replied.

  The man seemed to hesitate, wavering on the edge of spewing great news and running hastily away. “What has happened?” Peter inquired. Cam’s brows furrowed.

  The man seemed to recognize Peter all of a sudden. “Wait...you are Lord Adriel. Haven't you heard?” Peter shook his head. “Mirabelle’s magic...all of it...it has v-vanished!”

  Cam’s mind buzzed as though it had been struck by lightning.

  Mirabelle magicless? How was such a concept possible?

  The questions of who, when, where, and why the incident occurred, turned over in her mind in a constant cycle. The ceremony of magic consumption in each of the realms was only days away.

  "Is it merely a coincidence that the magic disappears right before the ceremony?" Cam wondered. She thought not. Before she or Peter could question him, the man himself had vanished from the room and the house entirely.

  Cam could only stand in shock. She turned her widened gaze to Peter, and she was sure that their magic had been stolen.

  Acknowledgements

  Spirit Followers has been molded and shaped by many contributors. This is where I recognize all they have done to aid in the completion of this novel.

  To Sher Jenkins and my mom for reading and editing for me. To Emma, Cassandra, and Faith for being the best friends I could ask for. To my parents and siblings.

  Even though I’m not the biggest fan of cats, thank you Zane for letting Emma and I demonstrate scenes from this book by using you. (Aka the scene where we decided that Apollyon should take tango lessons. Don’t worry. It didn’t make the cut.)

  My most profuse thanks goes to God (Elyon…one of the many Hebrew forms for Jehovah) for granting me the talents of writing, imagination, and unending ideas. Thank you for keeping Your promises, for loving me, and for sending Your Son to pay my ransom. Without you, I am lost.

  Lastly, I want to thank the readers because without all of you, writing wouldn’t be (quite) as worth it. I can only hope that my writing impacts you and gives you a refreshing adventure.

  And don’t miss... Instruments of Sacrifice: Keepers of the Crown

  Camaria is chasing the sparks of a war and trying to put them out before her world erupts into flames and all is gone. The vanishing of the magic of Mirabelle is only the beginning and the Seekers are formed to find its captors. Camaria, her sister Fiera, the young huntsman Caleb, Cinis Lumen leader Tyron, former Gnosi heir Riah, and two others are sent east to find their stolen magic, but each has a mission of their own. Cam, having been banished from two of Mirabelle’s realms, is determined to redeem herself by locating the legendary Crown of Caelae, prophesied by the Watchers, one of which was Peter’s father. Riah continues his secret quest to become one of the unidentified master’s seven warriors. Fiera still holds the wooden ball with its strange message inside, and Caleb has a secret past of his own. Peter, who remains in Mirabelle, is on the brink of discovering all of his father’s secrets and forming a plot of revenge on those who had killed Daniel years ago. Their
own ventures are put on hold when they suddenly cross paths with an unexpected enemy in the perilous land called the Valley of Poison.

  About the Author:

  Lydia Redwine is a young author from Cincinnati, Ohio who completed her first novel by age 11. She writes in aims of producing work that is both refreshing and impacting. She is the author of a middle grade novella Eva Goes Swimming For Hope, a poetry collection Essence of An Age, and the Instruments of Sacrifice series.