STARSTONE
By
Denise M. Main
World Castle Publishing
http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
World Castle Publishing
Pensacola, Florida
Copyright © Denise M. Main 2012
ISBN: 9781937085995
First Edition World Castle Publishing January 12, 2012
http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com
License Notes
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Artist: Denise Main
Editor: Maxine Bringenberg
Acknowledgements
As ever, for the three men in my life – Bryce, Chris & Shaun!
With many thanks to Karen, Maxine and the folks at World Castle Publishing.
And for Judith – one wacky pensioner and a wonderful lady!
THE STRUCTURE chronicles – Book One
STARSTONE – History of...
Sub-section i – Creation of / Subsection ii – Akashii
A variation of excerpts from the texts of many world ‘Histories’…
...In times past and upon many worlds in the Structure, crime grew rife and flourished. Certain criminals raised their particular areas of ‘expertise’ to that of an art form – developing their skills and associated ‘talents’ to the highest degree. These were not the amicable thief, the accidental con-man, the type of criminal forced by circumstance to law-break in keeping the wolf from the door. No ‘take from the rich and give to the poor’ mentality would ever flourish here. These were the hardened and hardcore, worst of the worst – the slime at the bottom of society’s ditch; psychopaths and sociopaths – genocidal and homicidal; child rapists and torturers – sexual sadists and cannibals. The ones who reveled and gloried in bloodshed exquisitely performed. They were those who relished and devoured the terror and agony of their victims– men and women to whom evil was merely another word. For whom the rest of humanity was simply there to be used as desired.
General Histories – Thesa Academy
They were the ones, who by any method, did not want to be changed to fit in with the rest of society; the ones who couldn’t be changed, except by brain death; which many advocated, as these specimens would never be made into anything resembling the ‘norm’.
There being no world without crime, the rulers of these many worlds – the Prime Lords and their Seconds – rightly concerned, gathered to assess the situation. After very little discussion, it was decided to join forces and hunt these creatures down; to collect them in a single location then exile both criminals and prison.
Cellan – ‘Times Past’
Whilst the best hunters from 15 worlds were occupied with the former, a place to keep the criminals was located: a small moon already possessing the potential to sustain life. By the time the final few of the undesirables were being restrained, the little moon had been terraformed to general specifications.
Given the name of Danaach, the moon – now habitable – was designated as the prison world and readied to receive its population. In high-tensile body-shackles, in cryogenic pods, in stasis, in containment suits, they were shipped or otherwise transported to their brand new home. Without weapons – save for whatever each individual carried within them. Without shelter – save for very basic materials. Without nourishment – save for one month’s rations. Without fish, fowl or fauna – save for that smuggled in. And so, the worst of the worst, the vilest of all, were contained on Danaach.
Saybel – Archives E – D Section/ iii Crime
Despite the despicable crimes against humanity, there were some brilliant minds among the prisoners and plans were constantly being hatched to escape that world. Some rulers were of the opinion that now the criminals had been caught and imprisoned, they, and their fellows, should be put to death. Some said that now they had been rounded up on Danaach, the world itself should be destroyed. Some were tempted by both ideas. Others said to do that would bring them all down to the same level as the criminals themselves. Arguments raged and a solution had to be found before the ultimate decision was taken away from those in charge.
Carnaté – Histories / 5 – 113
The Primes and their Seconds numbered the most powerful in the known universe. And they came to a logical conclusion; Danaach would be sent not into another dimension, but between the dimensions, and locked there – exiled forever.
Using science, magic and technology – all names for much the same thing – they called on the power and energies of their own realms and worlds, raised them up and bound them together– condensed them until even the space around them bent and warped. Created and controlled the key to banishing Danaach; a physical object, a gem the size of a man’s hand, and in the shape of a six-rayed star – the Starstone. Marbled with gold, it was the purple of amethyst, though made of neither, and glowed with a life very much its own. With that as their focus, and working in concert, the Primes opened a way between the planes, Danaach was sent through to non-space, the place separating the dimensions, and the way closed behind it.
Afterwards, those same Primes instrumental in the venture from its conception, specifically from Saybel, Anraun, Iantii, Cellan, Carnaté, Lammia and Tindal, fragmented the Starstone, making of it six thin triangles, faceted and dagger-like – shards: and the hexagonal centre – the heart. These sections were taken and hidden on the same seven worlds.
Iantii – Archives 20c – 21c
When the question was posed – why not destroy the key? – the reply was obvious. Crime had not been obliterated, only the worst offenders exiled. Eventually the sheer power and audacity of those actions – the mere threat of Danaach, and being exiled, would not be enough. Over time, when that happened as it surely would, action would be required.
Lammia – Histories ae2x961/113
The stone could be re-assembled and the way opened again. Perhaps foolishly, considering how the futures could change, but to facilitate access, the seven Primes adapted the Starstone. Only four sections would be necessary to activate the key and bring Danaach back into phase with the rest of the worlds. Then, new blood could be infused into whatever remained on the prison world.
Tindal – ‘Lost Words, Lost Worlds’
For many decades, Danaach was apparently forgotten, until a greedy, second string lord on beautiful Iantii desired to become its Prime. Originally, the Iantiians shared their world with a similar race of people, the Akashii, and while not as forceful as the dominant Iantiians, the two races managed to exist in relative harmony. Then, the lord Dalran, head of the Akashiian’s second most powerful house, desiring the position of Prime Lord of Iantii, one he would never naturally come by, called for aid from Arath, the Doman of Saybel, Prime of the Darkworld; rumored, quite rightly, to be rapidly becoming the most powerful race of them all.
Arath, master of complex machinations, intrigued by the proposition, played him along, knowing the Iantii would never accept anyone like Dalran as their leader. Eventually realizing this, Dalran Shan'Ghian sought another alliance; perversely, one more difficult and dangerous to pursue, yet containing infinitely more power; an allegiance with the banished prison world of Danaach
.
Saybel – Archives E – D Section/ ixia Crime
A new type of renegade Nightlord from Arath’s own Darkworld of Saybel had been included in that original exile. He was one of the Stealers of souls, outlaws who took the souls of others, bleeding them psychically and emotionally dry, ‘tasting’ their every experience, storing it and growing ever stronger for the taking. Whether the Akashiian lord imagined he could force these exiled ones to do his bidding was never recorded, but in all likelihood, they would have turned on him and easily taken whatever they wanted, including his soul and those of any with him.
Anraun, Thesa Academy / ‘Historical Warnings’
In preparation, Dalran had already managed to steal the shards from Iantii, Cellan and from Tindal since the guarding of them had become surprisingly lax. He needed only that from Saybel to complete the number required to activate the opening. Despite that, and with the help of a powerful mage, Dalran succeeded in contacting one of the survivors on Danaach. Calling himself a warrior-priest, this creature, without Dalran’s knowledge and with the help of the mage, stole the shard originally belonging to Tindal. Since the mage mysteriously died shortly after, this was not realized until much later.
Meanwhile, Dalran had raised himself an army of Akashiians and forced the help of their slaves, the Raylor. Thankfully, he succeeded only in slightly weakening the dimensional barriers to non-space between the worlds before Arath, remembering all his forefather had done to help exile that world, retaliated.
Lammia, ‘Warfare Remembered’ – c509
Using the New Races – a combination of fledgling peoples from emerging worlds– as a vast living weapon, the Doman of Saybel turned them against the Akashii. Because of Dalran's double-dealing, his people were virtually wiped out. The gateway to the Danaach world was returned to its former, limited accessibility.
But during the vast and bloody fight, one of the shards, that from Cellan, was utterly destroyed: not even dust remained. The stolen one from Tindal was never reclaimed, regrettably. A few Akashii managed to flee into another of the many parallel dimensions, closing the way behind them. Fewer escaped to Anraun and an island there off the coast of Thesa, which they encircled with dangerous currents and wreathed with mind-warping mists. Most were slaughtered by the New Races in unreasoning hatred, not all of the Doman's making.
Long hating the Akashii, the Raylor turned against them, visiting bloody retribution upon their once-masters, relishing the brutality and terrible vengeance a hundred times greater than anything done to them. But the majority of New Races, so long ago, had little idea why they suddenly turned against their masters, who at times had been almost like gods with their powers of illusion, their mental abilities and use of what had seemed then to be magic of the highest order.
Iantii – Chronicles of Houses
The massacre of the Akashii eventually came to be considered a shameful, if necessary, episode in history. For their part in it, the Raylor were also exiled onto Danaach...
Carnaté – ‘Forgotten Times’, Otherworld Chronicles
Chapter 1 – Varen’s Keep
In the northeast corner of Anraun was a somber, bleak moor of tough grasses and sparse, stunted trees. Beyond the dark hills rose high tors, massive crags and deep, ice-cold tarns. Their silence was only broken by the moan of wind and harsh cry of hawks. There were caves in the towering, black cliffs, forbidding places, shunned by all humanity– and other races.
Near the foot of the dark hills, standing in isolation, was a black-stoned keep. Some distance – a safe distance – away, a handful of cottages huddled together as if for protection. Roughly built, poorly maintained, they housed the vassals of Lord Varen. They were herdsmen for the most part, who tended the hardy sheep that roamed the moors; neither herdsmen nor sheep ever strayed too near the keep, or very far into the hills behind it.
Outside, a thin wind whipped the air like the voice of a child keening for the dead. From a low grey sky, rain lashed against the black weathered stones and iced the ground.
Inside, Lord Varen raged. His lips barely moved as he spoke, but the emotion in his dark voice was painfully clear. His green eyes narrowed, blazing, while strong pale hands gripped the girl's shoulders tightly, thin fingers gouging into soft flesh.
“I want you, Omell!” he snarled, lips curling in distaste at the words he had to speak – like a character in some trash a woman would read.
“No,” she whispered, slowly shaking her head.
The lord of the keep curled his fingers deeper into her shoulders, bruising down to bone. “Yes,” he hissed. “Willing or not, I will have you! You belong to me! You were created for me!”
The green fire in his eyes doubled in intensity, and Omell felt her resistance fade as though her blood was being leeched away. Muscles involuntarily relaxed, fingers opened from tight fists and dangled uselessly at her sides. Her vision blurred, Varen's face receded. Only the staring green eyes and crushing fingers remained. Her head grew heavy, sagged backward, sinews standing out tautly in her slender neck.
Then burning lips touched her cool flesh. She screamed, galvanized into action. Hands jerked upwards in hooked claws towards the angular cruel face above her. Tight-stretched skin parted beneath her fingernails. She twisted violently and kicked out with soft-shod feet. Amidst this, a deep voice called curses upon her, and a hard fist connected with the side of her jaw. Color burst in a pyrotechnic shower before her eyes. Stunned, she dropped to the cold stone floor.
Varen glared at the crumpled figure, while thin blood trickled from his cheek and neck to soak into the black collar of his shirt. The feeble candle-flames lighting the dim room were overshadowed by the thunder flash of fury in his eyes. His thin face was set like cold marble, pale, flawless but for the livid, triple-row of nail marks down the left side. Thick black hair curtained his face as he bent and effortlessly drew the girl to her feet. Arms, legs and head dangled limply as he carried her to a brocade covered couch, and carelessly dropped her down.
Slowly, minutes crept by, and his fury ebbed away.
I need her.
Need, in particular, that which is hidden deep in her mind.
But she thwarts me at every turn.
He could snuff out her life as easily as blowing out a candle should he choose. And part of him was very close to doing just that. During the four weeks of her stay, the girl had ridiculed him, belittled his considerable powers, scorned his Darkworld heritage, and now physically attacked him. Gently, he touched the bleeding welts she had etched into his skin.
Many women and girls had passed through the keep, far too many for him to recall. Most were beautiful, exotic creatures, eager to satisfy his every whim. But this one, the one he wanted, needed, and had to have – she refused him.
He could easily force her to do his bidding, but there was no guarantee that in doing so, the vital link between their minds would come about, allowing him the object he craved. And he would only have one chance. As soon as the girl lost her maidenhead, no one would be able to claim her other, far more valuable prize, the one Varen sought.
As he watched her, his face softened into a slightly gentler expression, one rarely seen on features hard and unforgiving as the land. And his mind wandered through years long past, to when he had been the willing pupil of a tall, purple-and-gold eyed woman – a sorceress who had taught him the ways of her people, the Akashiians.
Once they had been mighty. But the dominant Iantiians were rulers of the world they shared, until Lord Dalran, head of the Akashiian’s second most powerful house, desired the position of Prime Lord of Iantii. His greed signaled the downfall and virtual destruction of the Akashii.
Varen’s Saybelese blood, however dilute, had allowed him to 'walk the worlds’ from Anraun to Saybel in the manner of Nightlords. There he had searched the vast archives until he came across this ancient information – once taught to many – heeded by only a few.
The massacre of the Akashii eventually came to be considere
d a shameful, if necessary, episode in history. Varen's keep mimicked all that was left of Lord Dalran's great castle Ghian, moved away from its original site on the world of Iantii to the bleak Anraunian moor. The immense Forest of Dor, where the original castle had been raised, still remained in all its vast glory, and Iantii’s capital city – beautiful Cymori – thrived and grew as the home of the ruling family, the Kamutecs of the House of Analys.
Varen's teacher, whose family had been one of the few to escape to the island, stayed with him for seven years, molding his mind and talents into the shape she desired. Relleshom had been a strong woman, despising her people for being fools deserving of everything they got. She considered the two powers in the land, the High Lord and High Priestess, also to be fools, and Anraun ripe for invasion.
Just before she left, Relleshom told him she was going to look for a man to father her child. Quelling Varen's objections, she stated that the child would be sent to the keep on her sixteenth birthday – the age of consent – and she would have something for him. But it would be something that must be given willingly.
It would form part of a key to unlock the pathway to another dimension, another world, and ultimately call the inhabitants of the prison world Danaach to Anraun. Another part of the key would give him the power to control those beings. It was typical of the sorceress that she would give him the power to open the path first, and the method of controlling the descendants of those vile criminals last. Included in them were the descendants of the first rogue Nightlords – the single most devastating evil-doers – the Stealers of souls. They never wondered what changes all those centuries had wrought on those who remained – and ruled – on Danaach.
For almost two years, Varen carried on Relleshom's dark ways until she returned suddenly one stormy night and told him the child had been born.
“Within her mind, Varen, is the first portion of the key. Take her virginity, and you take that. But,” she had smiled, “both must be given willingly, without recourse to drugs, or beatings, or threats. And remember, Varen, although she was conceived for this purpose only, she is still my child. The next part of the key she will find for you, when the pathway is partly opened and the two worlds moving into phase.”
Starstone Page 1