The Elemental Union: Book One Devian

by Shanna Bosarge

Sterling grimaced as she forced herself to stand. The woolen fabric of the Severon uniform pulled at her wounds that crossed her back and the burn marks. They throbbed constantly, but there was nothing she could do about it until she found safety in Kai’Vari. On wobbly knees Sterling scanned the horizon to the south. Somewhere the border between Duenin and Kai’Vari waited for her. She’d prayed every day that it would just be over the next ridge, but her prayers went unanswered as another sweeping plain after sweeping plain had met her.

  Sterling approached the horse and tried to urge it to its feet but it lay with its head amid the grass, “Come on,” she said as she tried to get it to stand, “you’ve had enough time to rest.” But the horse refused to budge. When it refused again and morosely whinnied, she gave up and sat down with her back pressed against the animal. “I’m sorry,” she absently apologized to the beast before standing. I am cursed. Yet another being who has helped me and been hurt, she thought. This animal has given me it’s all. Being around horses all her life, she knew it was exhausted, but that it should recover. But it would take time she didn’t have to wait on the horse to regain its strength. “You will be fine in a bit,” she told the great animal as she leaned over to place a kiss on its head. “Thank you for helping me.” She stood and started in the direction of Kai’Vari.

  The boots she’d stolen from Helios were heavy as she trudged through the tall grass. Too big, they had rubbed her feet raw causing blisters to form. But she could not risk taking them off, else she feared she would not be able to get them back on.

  As she walked the sun slowly edged its way closer to its zenith. How many hours have I been trudging through these damnable fields? Would she make it to Kai’Vari before it sank below the western horizon? She was begrudgingly thankful for the uniform she’d taken. It had kept her warm during the cold nights. She wanted to discard the heavy clothing, the mere thought of having it against her body disgusted her. She knew what she really wanted more than anything was a bath.

  As if her prayers were answered from the heavens the sound of running water reached her ears. A smile cracked her parched lips as Sterling quickened her pace toward the sound. She was running by the time she reached a small stream that meandered across the wide plains, and nearly fell head first into the shallow water. It was just narrow enough for her to jump across. She knelt along the bank and dipped her hands in the icy stream and scooped up a mouth full of clean, cold water. The cold liquid slid down her throat calming the thirst that had dogged her since she left Sionaad.

  Sterling examined her hands – dried blood was caked under her fingernails. So much blood, it still clings to me days after leaving that place, she thought. She scrubbed her hands in the water, but the caked-on blood was stubborn and was difficult to wash away. Helios’s blood. What had happened in that cell? All she remembered was the pain and then waking up to find them dead. Their bodies had been mangled as if some great beast had thrown them across the room.

  She tried hard to ignore what had happened in her prison, but her continuing nightmares would not let her forget. Each night Engram would visit her in her dreams, and even though she had escaped the walls of the prison, as she slept she was still locked away in the dark. No amount of rest would ease the anguish she felt. Her body and her mind ached and all she wanted to do was sleep, but she knew with sleep came nightmares.

  Sterling sighed, no amount of scrubbing would cleanse her hands of the blood. She pushed away from the stream and stood, for as far as the eye could see was an ocean of brown grass. The vastness of the Dueninian plains made her feel insignificant. She looked back across the limitless horizon and where she had already walked was a trail cut through the grass. She could see the path weaved back and forth aimlessly. It was hard to judge progress in the fields of wheat, but looking back she realized how far she had walked since leaving the horse behind. Sterling turned her back on where she had come from and faced forward toward Kai’Vari.

  The land began to rise under her feet until she reached a small ridge. Once at the top the sight before her took the breath from her exhausted lungs. She had fully expected another in the unending series of grassy plains. Is it true? Can this be? She excitedly thought to herself. She couldn’t contain the smile that creased her dry, cracked lips.

  The Kai’Varian border lay before her – the Sandori Forest spread across most of northern Kai’Vari standing guard against any invaders that dared to cross the border. A rush of excitement and a renewed burst of energy coursed through her broken, tortured body. A glimmer of hope nudged in as well, a feeling she hadn’t had in quite some time.

  Hemi had told her of the immensity of the forest, but never in her dreams did she imagine this. The tall trees of the Sandori spread out before her with no end in sight. She started down the ridge when she felt the shaking of the earth beneath her. She looked back over the ridge and her blood turned to ice. Severon – half a dozen in their menacing black and red uniforms were galloping full on toward her position. She ducked back down below the ridge line and thought. I only have one chance to make it to safety. If she hesitated they would be upon her in no time.

  She pushed off from the ground and started down the shallow incline at a full run. She knew the moment they saw her, as they spurred their horses. Damn my luck, she thought as she sprinted toward the safety of the border.

  Sterling dared one more glance over her shoulder. The demon among the Severon, Engram, was leading the charge – whipping his horse into a frenzy in his attempt to run her down. Sterling stumbled but regained her footing. Her lungs burned as she struggled to run in the heavy uniform. Her blistered feet screaming at every step, but no amount of pain would slow her down. No, not when she was this close to freedom.

  Frantic, like a wild animal, she ran and scrambled and leapt and crawled and ran again. She pulled strength from a place she didn’t know she had. I would rather die like a fox with the hounds, than have that foul, evil man touch me again, she thought. The tree line seemed to get farther away the more she ran toward the safety of the Kai’Varian border. She could hear the hoof beats closing in, and she imagined the hot breath of the war horses touching the back of her neck. Stumbling for a second, she feared exhaustion was near, but the thought of the terror filled night, that first night, when Engram had first tortured her, spurred her forward in a sprint.

  Engram was almost on her when the blessed safety of the trees swallowed her and he was forced to pull up or risk injuring his mount. She darted between the wide trunks of the trees that stood watch over the land of her father. The forest was thick and her pursuers had a difficult time keeping up with her.

  “Come out Sterling!” She’d lost sight of them but Engram’s voice echoed through the dense forest. “There is nowhere for you to hide.”

  Sterling stood with her back to a tree, breathing in deep breaths hoping to steady her heart rate. “No matter where you go we will find you.” His voice seemed to come from every direction. She edged around a tree looking over her shoulder checking for the evil man. As she started forward she walked into a uniformed chest. A Severon stood in front of her, a vicious smile on his thin lips. He held her upper arms in a vice like grip, “Found you.”

  Sterling struggled to free herself, but his grip was too strong. “Be a good girl and behave,” he whispered maliciously in her ear. Anger welled up in Sterling. Anger at every hurt the Severon had caused; anger for every time Engram had taken her unwillingly. Anger at the death of those she loved and anger at Kellen’s betrayal. With all her strength Sterling brought her knee up into the man’s groin.

  “Let go of me, you bastard,” she spat out at him. He instantly went to his knees clutching himself. He let out a mouse like squeak as he toppled over onto his side, eyes rolling back in his head. She ran, pushing through the brush, her hair catching on twigs and pulling painfully at her scalp. Tears of frustration blurred her vision. She could hear her pursuers charging after her. Will I ever be free from the Severon?

  16

/>   Brom Da’Gaihen

  Northern Kai’Varian Border

  Pan’Dale Hold

  The graekull hunted, sniffing the air for its prey. Ironic, Brom thought, because today, demon, you are the prey. Brom silently tracked the monster through the Sandori forest to this root filled clearing. This graekull was all that was left of an attack that started two days ago. The hunting pack of five graekull had emerged from a deep well, wreaking havoc on a small village that was nestled along the border between the Pan’Dale and Da’Gaihen Holds. The Manuk horns had sounded throughout the forest and Brom, along with other Veillen guards stationed in the lookout towers, had managed to kill all but this last one. It had split off from the rest of the pack and had slaughtered a farmer and his family while they worked their land.

  Brom had been traveling with Gavin Da’Gaihen, the second prince of Kai’Vari, and Conal Fal’Barbner, a Master Archer and second in command of the Regular army. The three of them had been riding toward Pan’Dale from Sela’Char. Along the way they had come up on a group of Veillen battling the hunting pack of graekull. Brom had ordered Conal to take Gavin away from the battle to a safe distance. The young Prince had argued that he wanted to stay and watch, but Brom had put his foot down with his cousin. While Conal and Gavin retreated to safety, Brom had lured the remaining graekull away from the village. Now it was caught in Brom’s trap.

  Brom breathed in slowly, filling his lungs with air. He stood perfectly still, waiting for the graekull as he spoke the ancient words that called to his Velkuva, Raiken.

  “Kerbodia for’velki,” Brom spoke, the ancient command of his forefathers calling the Velkuva.

  I will be with you, Raiken’s deep voice resonated in Brom’s mind as he responded to Brom’s request.

  Brom slowly faded into the Veil. The sun glowed with an eerie blue brightness. The sounds of the forest were muffled as he completed the fade. In this realm of the dead, Brom’s senses were heightened and his movement speed was increased threefold of a normal human. But he dared not linger in this realm. His body was screaming for release from the spirit world where only the dead should ever walk. He would remain here in the Veil until he spoke the words that would end his hold on Raiken’s power.

  The graekull lumbered through the forest, paying no mind to the trees before it. He’s a big one, Brom noted.

  Watch those claws, Raiken warned.

  The graekull’s claws were indeed impressive. The long black nails were cracked and broken by a myriad of unseen battles. But the claws alone were not the graekull’s only weapon. Teeth, green and sharpened by the countless humans and animals it had eaten. Raw. That’s how they liked it. Its gray mottled skin was pulled taut over powerful lean muscle and bone that was exposed where the skin was charred away. Those powerful arms could fell ten men in one swipe. Large trees that would impasse any man, this graekull simply pushed them out of the way.

  The blued sun highlighted the sinew and bone that were exposed where the flesh was charred and curled, leaving visible holes in its skin.

  The demon beast stopped just a few steps in front of Brom, sniffing the air through its blunt nose; eyes closed trying to find Brom’s scent that lingered in the forest. Though he couldn’t image how the beast could smell anything past its own putrid scent.

  Brom silently reached above his head and unsheathed Tryg, his bloodsword. Razor sharp, the bloodsword was made to slice through graekull flesh with ease. Brom raised Tryg, ready to strike, when a whirlwind of arms and legs came barreling into the clearing colliding headlong into the graekull. Both graekull and girl went tumbling to the ground. The beast was the first to recover. Lumbering to its feet it stood over the girl and growled, baring a mouth full of grotesque teeth. The girl who appeared to be young, perhaps fifteen summers, crawled backward from the monster, scrambling in the dirt and tried to stand and run. Before Brom could react, the graekull grabbed hold of the girl’s leg and flung her across the clearing and into a stand of trees. She hit a branch, then the trunk, and collapsed at the base of a tree, limp as a child’s doll.

  “Klute’wer.” Brom said the words that would release his hold on Raiken and emerged from the Veil, yelling out to get the graekull’s attention off the girl, “Here!” It turned at the noise and watched Brom for a moment before charging. Long arms ending with sharp claws reached out for Brom, but he deftly side stepped the ungainly beast and brought Tryg down, slicing through the beast’s flesh. Roaring in pain the demon quickly turned on Brom, its red black eyes watching Brom as they slowly circled one another. Attacking a graekull head on was a potentially lethal move that brought death to many young Veillen warriors. Its claws could slice through flesh with little effort. Brom had witnessed many warriors make the mistake and pay the price of having limbs severed or their chest opened. Or both.

  Brom goaded the beast, “Come on, dull stone. What are you waiting for?” He doubted the demon understood the words, but he had to keep the monster’s attention off the girl. The graekull growled, bits of spittle and debris flew through the air as it lunged toward Brom. He swiveled out of the way and in one fluid motion drove Tryg deep into the graekull’s back. The point of the blade was so sharp it sliced through bone and sinew. The graekull roared in pain as black blood seeped from the deep gash in the demon’s back. Brom quickly withdrew his blade and retreated before the demon could swing its arm around. As the demon spun, its arm outstretched, it struck one of the large bareq trees that made up the Sandori. Wood and bark went flying as its claw gouged the tree. Those claws were indeed deadly.

  Taking a stance, Brom raised his sword and eyed the demon down the length of the blade. Brom circled the beast slowly, waiting for the moment when it would charge again. It followed Brom with its dark eyes, and as Brom circled around to its back the demon turned to face Brom. With a violent roar, it pounded its chest and charged. Brom, in turn, charged as well and just as they were about to collide Brom evaded the massive claw and sliced Tryg through the demon’s arm severing it at the elbow. It howled in pain and lashed out with its uninjured arm. Brom raised Tryg and deflected the demon’s claws, then went on the offensive. With a quick move he spun around and drove the blade into the graekull’s chest, piercing its heart with ease. The beast collapsed to its knees, but even mortally wounded it was still dangerous. Brom pulled Tryg from the leathery flesh and in Veillen tradition he raised his bloodsword high in the air, swung it downward with might and precision, and sliced the head off the graekull. “Vare takk.” He thanked Raiken as he wiped the blood off the blade.

  Well fought. Raiken responded to Brom’s words.

  He turned his attention to the girl. Brom stepped over the monster’s corpse, which would soon disintegrate into the soil, and hurried to the tree where the girl lay limp. Stooping, he brushed dull, matted hair out of her face. No broken bones, that’s good. He was surprised by the amount of dried blood that covered the girl. He carefully rolled her over on to her back, a Severon uniform? The jacket had come unfastened and the large white shirt had pulled away, revealing a smooth olive shoulder. Upon further inspection Brom could see a myriad of scars, both old and new, crisscrossing the tender flesh. “What happened to you?” he asked as he checked her pulse and found a strong beat. Alive, thought Brom, despite having been slammed against a tree. The impact alone should have killed her.

  Brom pulled the shirt and jacket into place and noticed an angry mark on her forearm. He pushed the sleeve further up and found a long, slender brand burned into her forearm from wrist to elbow. He pushed the other sleeve up and found a matching brand on her right arm, “Damn Severon.” Brom spat the name.

  His head came up as the sounds of footsteps drew closer. “Hand over the girl, she is Severon property.”

  Brom stood and faced the intruders. Five Severon stood in the clearing, their brushed silver buttons contrasted against the deep black and red of their uniforms. Each man stood before Brom with sword drawn, a stance that would be their last if they choose to attack.


  “Any ownership you may have had ceased the moment she stepped onto Kai’Varian soil,” Brom said as he sheathed Tryg. The Severon’s’ irritation evident in their scowls when they realized he did not fear them. After all the Severon fed off the fear of their victims.

  The middle Severon took a step toward Brom, raising his sword to Brom’s chest. A sneer curled his lip, “Listen savage, I am Commander Remus Engram, Severon Commander of the Northern Arm and Emissary of Orom Tydar, we have tracked this girl for more than a week from Sionaad. She is an escaped prisoner wanted for the murder of two Severon and that of a dozen orphans. She will be punished for her crimes.”

  “It appears as though she has already been punished beyond measure,” Brom said, stepping forward so the tip of Engram’s blade pierced Brom’s skin. Blood pooled at the tip before dripping to the leaves below. The other four soldiers took a step back at Brom’s bold action. He glanced at the sword piercing his chest. “Whatever crimes she may have committed in Duenin do not exist in Kai’Vari,” Brom said as he placed his hand around the blade hilt, forcefully removing it and pushing Engram back three steps.

  Brom quickly stepped back, away from Engram and spun around while unsheathing Tryg. In one motion, he held Tryg to the Severon’s neck that had tried sneaking up behind Brom. But Brom had been aware of the man’s presence even before Engram’s glance had given the man away. Brom forced the man toward his fellow Severon with the tip of his blade. “Leave now before I have you executed for trespassing on Kai’Varian land.”

  “Executed?” Engram scoffed, “On what authority? Yours? You are nothing but a savage.”

  “On my authority,” Gavin, Brom’s cousin, answered the Severon as he rode into the clearing.

  Brom sighed and glared at Conal. “He insisted,” Conal shrugged.

  “And who are you?” Engram asked.

  Normally an immature fifteen-year-old, Gavin put on a haughty air and looked down his nose at the Severon, “Gavin Da’Gaihen, Second Prince of Kai’Vari.”