by Ben Hale
Her face hardened. “Then a man named Orn appeared, and used memory magic to curse us all. Those that fought the enchantment were killed, and my betrothed was one of them. I watched him die and was helpless to stop it. The memory was so vivid that Orn’s magic could not take it, and so I remembered.
“I could have fled but he would have sent someone after me. Instead I remained, and sought to learn all I could about the man. When he sent me to steal the map I learned the truth, and instead of returning to the guild, I kept it. Shortly after I sought a druid friend. He'd always loved me and so he took me in. As time passed my heart changed and I accepted his offer of marriage.”
She sighed and looked away. “He is a good man, but the knowledge that he was not my first love eats at him, and he has taken to a bottle. I hope by the time you're grown he can return to the stalwart friend I remember.”
Jack snorted in disgust at that. “He let you die, Mother.”
The memory continued, “In spite of him I love my life here,” she said. “And I love you. I never understood a mother's strength until now, but I would fight like a dragon to protect you.”
“You did,” Jack whispered, his heart suddenly aching.
“But I fear it will not be enough,” she continued. “Orn will not rest until he has the map, and sees me punished for my betrayal. I plan to take the map to Denithir, a captain in the elven guard. He's an old friend, and I hope he can request the queen to store the map in her vault.”
Her features tightened with worry. “I will leave instructions to find this orb inside our home so that one day you can find this memory. Orn may come for me before you are old enough to understand. If that happens you must swear to me that you will not follow in my footsteps. Do not join the guild. You must swear it.”
Her eyes bored into his as if she were present, causing him to answer. “I swear it,” he murmured.
She passed a hand over her face as if it would ward off a great evil. Then she looked to him again. “If the thieves come searching for the map, I won’t leave you ignorant and unable to defend yourself. To that end you must learn the nature of the threat.”
She lifted the orb closer, bringing her face into sharper focus. “For some time I thought he wanted to find the ancients. I thought he wanted their secrets so he could use them, to gain the power they would bring. Then I was sent to an ancient vault to retrieve the map. There I found several images displayed on the wall. To my shock Orn's face was one of them, and I finally understood. Orn doesn't just seek the ancients . . .”
Jack felt a chill as he realized her meaning, and he spoke the words with her. “He is an ancient.”
Epilogue: The Guildmaster’s Secret
Gallow exited the gates of Terros and strode into the night. Wrapping the cloak about him to ward off the chill, the assassin stepped off the road and followed a trail deep into the forest. An hour later he approached an old temple. Coming to a halt in the depths of shadow, he fingered the triangular blade he favored for his kills and scanned the structure.
Vines covered the decrepit walls, their strands clinging to the weathered stone. Elements and vandals had broken the windows, allowing for beams of moonlight to fall into the interior. On the outside, the well for donations contained polluted water, with moss and frogs growing within.
Gallow circled the temple, searching for signs of an ambush. He was early, and used the time to listen and watch. When he was certain none were outside, he glided to the entrance and stepped through the broken doors.
Leaves covered the floor, the older layers reeking with the stench of rot. A rat scurried away, rustling the carpet of leaves as it fled. Gallow slipped to the wall and examined the interior for potential threats.
The paintings on the walls were all but worn away, leaving streaks of color on the plaster. Among them he saw the customary depiction of Ero raising his staff above the fallen devil. Benches had once occupied the center of the space, but the remaining stands were rife with termites. At the front of the temple two statues were just visible in the shadows.
“Your caution is unnecessary,” a voice called.
Gallow's eyes snapped to the figure as it moved, and realized the second statue was the man he'd come to see. Cloaked and cowled, the figure swept a hand in invitation.
“I'm sure you've heard of the events in the Thieves Guild?”
“I have,” Gallow said. “Are the rumors true?”
The man growled in his throat. “It does not matter. They are all animals.”
“I cannot help you,” Gallow said. “The assassin's guild will not start a war with them, even for you.”
The figure stepped out of the shadows with a dark chuckle. “I think you will.”
“You want to be the guildmaster again?” Gallow jerked his head. “They will not take you back, not after what you have done. And I hear your memory artifacts have been destroyed.”
“The guild has served its purpose,” the figure said. “I found the thief I need.”
“You cannot mean Jack Myst,” Gallow said. “He's the reason for your downfall.”
“And the one capable of stealing what I require.”
Gallow heard the bitterness in the man's voice but shook his head again. “I cannot help you.”
The man reached up and pulled his cowl back, allowing the moonlight to fall upon his twisted features. Gallow sucked in his breath and recoiled at the sight, shocked to the see the extent of the damage.
Claws had raked across his face, leaving jagged wounds from temple to chin. They had been healed, but the healer had been too late to forestall the scars. They cut across his dark eyes so close Gallow was shocked it had not blinded him.
“You want your revenge,” Gallow said, and his hand slipped to the triangular blade. “I can understand that.”
“You don't understand,” he said, his voice harsh and grating. “None of you understand.”
“Your name is known by many now,” Gallow said, and eased the blade free. “You have no reason to guard it.”
The man burst into a mocking laugh. “You are a fool, Gallow. You are the head of the assassin's guild and yet you know nothing.”
Gallow sneered at him and decided he'd heard enough. “Jack should have made certain you were dead,” he said, and whipped the blade into the air.
Enchanted to curve in patterns depending on how it was thrown, the blade flipped through the air in a sweeping arc, aiming for the fallen guildmaster's throat. Impossibly fast, the man reached up and caught the blade.
“You think to kill me?”
The question was quiet but laced with malice. Retreating toward the door, Gallow came to a halt when Orn flung his blade back at him. It swept past his cheek, drawing blood before plunging into the doorframe.
“If you weren't useful I would leave you to the rats,” Orn said.
Gallow yanked it free and held it ready. “Useful for what?”
“Jack will not do my bidding willingly,” Orn said. “And so I will require sufficient leverage to compel his obedience.”
“What sort of leverage?”
“He has friends now.”
“You want me to kill them?” He imagined Beauty's pretty face twisted in agony, her eyes wide with horror before going dark. The image brought a smile to his lips.
“I need him to obey,” Orn snapped. “Killing his friends would serve no purpose.”
Gallow scowled but didn't disagree. “Why use him at all? Surely your past cannot be so haunting it requires such lengths to erase it.”
Orn stared at him, but then his eyes shifted as if looking through him. “My brother betrayed me, but didn't have the courage to take my life. Instead he imprisoned me as if it were a mercy.” His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “When I find him I will do what he could not, and cut his heart from his chest.”
Gallow did not lower his guard. “You must have lost much to feel such hatred. Who were you? A noble? A prince?”
Orn abruptly caught his throat and
slammed him into the wall, lifting him up until his feet hung off the floor. Gallow instinctively reached for a blade but the rage in Orn's dark eyes held him fast.
“You want to know who I am?” he snarled. “An image of me sits in this very temple.”
He yanked him from the wall and lifted him higher, forcing Gallow to look at the tattered paintings. The moonlight fell upon god and devil, fighting for supremacy over the race of man. The moonlight shone upon Ero but went beyond it, illuminating the devil’s features.
The blood drained from Gallow's face when he realized what he meant, and his attempt to break free faltered. The fallen guildmaster brought him down until his dark eyes glowed before Gallow's face.
“Have you finally realized the truth, assassin?”
Gallow nodded.
“Say it,” he hissed.
Gallow struggled to quell the terror rising in his gut, knowing that if he spoke it would shake the very foundation of what he believed about the world. His jaw worked but no words came out.
“Say my name, assassin.”
Gallow cast about for escape but there was none. He was the youngest assassin to ever lead the guild, and even at age sixteen he'd killed hundreds. Now he trembled like a frightened dog staring into the eyes of a cruel master. In that moment he realized his life was over, and the man before him would forever command his fate. He wilted, and spoke the true identity of the fallen guildmaster.
“Skorn,” he breathed. “Your name is Skorn.”
The Chronicles of Lumineia
By Ben Hale
—The Master Thief—
Jack of Thieves
Thief in the Myst
—The Second Draeken War—
Elseerian
The Gathering
Seven Days
The List Unseen
—The Warsworn—
The Flesh of War
The Age of War
The Heart of War
—The White Mage Saga—
Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)
The Last Oracle
The Sword of Elseerian
Descent Unto Dark
Impact of the Fallen
The Forge of Light
Author Bio
Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for learning almost everything. Driven particularly to reading caused him to be caught reading by flashlight under the covers at an early age. While still young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself to play the piano. This thirst for knowledge gained him excellent grades and helped him graduate college with honors, as well as become fluent in three languages after doing volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he started and ran several successful businesses that gave him time to work on his numerous writing projects. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful wife and five beautiful children. Currently he resides in Missouri while working on his Masters in Professional Writing.
To contact the author, discover more about Lumineia, or find out about the upcoming sequels, check out his website at Lumineia.com. You can also follow the author on twitter @ BenHale8 or Facebook.
Table of Contents
The Chronicles of Lumineia
Map of Lumineia
Prologue: Lord Saris
Chapter 1: Hunted
Chapter 2: Invitation
Chapter 3: Morissa
Chapter 4: The Dragon’s Fire
Chapter 5: The Machine
Chapter 6: The Guildmaster
Chapter 7: The Amazon Assignment
Chapter 8: Thalidon
Chapter 9: Forlana
Chapter 10: Secrets of the Evermist
Chapter 11: Stealing a War
Chapter 12: Desired
Chapter 13: Thera’s Secret
Chapter 14: The Assassin Assignment
Chapter 15: The Assassin Guildhall
Chapter 16: Sentinels
Chapter 17: Enmity
Chapter 18: The Smuggler Assignment
Chapter 19: Nightfall Gorge
Chapter 20: The Eye of the Deep
Chapter 21: Shattered Pride
Chapter 22: Into the Gorge
Chapter 23: Reckoning
Chapter 24: Enlisted
Chapter 25: The Gate
Chapter 26: Kuraltus
Chapter 27: Longblade
Chapter 28: The Seeker
Chapter 29: The Elven Assignment
Chapter 30: The Lecherous Prince
Chapter 31: The Hall of Records
Chapter 32: The Queen’s Vault
Chapter 33: Identity
Chapter 34: Nine, Kiki, and Lorth
Chapter 35: Becoming Ten
Chapter 36: The Guild Assignment
Chapter 37: Unmasked
Chapter 38: Trapped in Memory
Chapter 39: The Fallen
Chapter 40: Rayths
Chapter 41: Jack of Thieves
Chapter 42: A Last Promise
Chapter 43: Morissa’s Truth
Epilogue: The Guildmaster’s Secret
The Chronicles of Lumineia
Author Bio