Isle of Wysteria:
The Monolith Crumbles
By Aaron Lee Yeager
Contents
Acknowledgments
The story so far:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
About the Author
This book has DVD extras. When you are done reading be sure to go to www.IsleOfWysteria.com for Bonus chapters, Bloopers and Outtakes, Cast and Crew Commentary, and leave a question for your favorite character to answer.
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Acknowledgments
This book was written using entirely organic computer and editing equipment. No faeries were harmed during the writing process. A Gnome stubbed his toe, and a goblin got a stomach ache, but that’s it.
Wow, look at this, the third book in my debut series. It’s been a long crazy journey getting this far, and it’s been a lot of fun taking this journey with Athel, Alder, Privet and Spirea. There’s something truly wonderful about taking something that was only an idea, a little twinkle at the back of your mind, and watch it take shape and grow into something real. There is something deeply and profoundly satisfying about the process of creation, something that transcends time and death. When I look out into the world, I see a world filled with things that were at one time nothing more than an idea in someone’s imagination. In other words, everything that is, everything that has ever been accomplished by anyone, came about through this process of imagination and creation. I wonder if they too faced opposition and rejection along the way? I wonder if they too faced crippling doubt and feelings of inadequacy? We grow so accustomed to listening to, and using the language of, the critic, but ultimately the critic does not create, does not add to this world. Brings nothing to the table. In a world of critics, nothing would be accomplished.
With this, I take my place among the creators of this world and add to it. I realize the ego behind that statement, and I apologize for how self-important it must sound. But, when I look back at the tens of thousands of hours I have spent crafting these stories, I cannot help but feel pleased at the result. I hope these come to mean as much to you as they do to me. I hope they resonate with your own life, and bring meaning and satisfaction to you as well.
Long before mankind conquered the seas and the skies, long before we put brush to canvas or shaped stone, we told stories. Sitting around the fire, passing along the legends and stories, and creating new ones. It is our oldest art form, and it continues to this day. Why do we still tell stories? Because they resonate deeply within our hearts. Because they give expression to the hopes and fears and experiences of our souls. We tell them because ultimately we are not different, but because we are the same. All of us share the same human heart. We hear stories of love, and they enrich us, because we also know what it means to love. We feel the thrill of overcoming adversity, because we have also felt what that means. We pass the cup of human experience from one generation to the next and drink deeply of its contents, sharing the simple reality of being human. A reality we all share.
I pass this book onto you, the rising generation, and to all those who pass through this life as part of the human family.
Dedicated to Stephen
The story so far:
After years of scheming and preparing, even going so far as to bribe the sexy palace guard Privet to train her in swordplay, Athel Forsythia renounces her claim to the throne and escapes from her forest homeland of Wysteria to join the federal navy, only to be stopped by her mother the Queen, who allows her to leave with an impossible caveat: She must take her new fiancé with her.
Alder is everthing she didn’t want in a husband, short, bony, and formal, but she drags him along anyway so she can wallow in her newfound freedom. They are assigned to the Dreadnaught, along with Spirea Sotol, the only member of a criminal family being prosecuted by the authorities back on Wysteria to have escaped. The crew of the Drednaught is odd, but welcomes them, until they discover that her captain has been captured, and they hatch an unusual plan to free him. While helping the Dreadnaught crew, Athel discovers that they are not freeing him from pirates, but from a navy prison.
Revealing themselves as ex-pirates, the crew of the Dreadnaught take them along to Umor Guild headquarters, where they plan to return to their old ways. While there, Spirea betrays Athel and reveals her royal status, earning her a seat on the Guild Council again, but condemning Athel to being a hostage.
But it was the pirate Guild itself that was beguiled. The Dreadnaught crew put them all to sleep with an ensorcelled brew, and turn them in to the federal authorities in return for having their records expunged. Athel is freed, and is prepared to leave the treacherous Spirea behind, but Alder pleads for her life to be spared.
Spirea cannot understand why Alder would stick up for her, nor can she comprehend why he is so nice to her, even as she insults and mistreats him. For the first time in her life, someone has treated her with kindness, and she does not know how to respond. Despite her resistance, she begins to fall in love with Alder, and that terrifies her.
As they travel to Thesda, Spirea hatches a plot to force Athel to sell Alder to her, but the plot backfires, and her tree Sumac rejects Alder. Nevertheless, she continues to pine after him, even though she can no longer marry him.
At Thesda, Athel uncovers a sinister plot. People are being kidnapped in broad daylight, and shipped away to places unknown. Along with Spirea, she leads a team to capture those responsible, but they are defeated, and both of them are infected with a magical spell that begins altering their personalities.
Back on Wysteria, Athel’s mother and the other leaders are summoned inside the royal tree, where they make a startling discovery. The acidic seas are eroding the edges of all the islands in the world. If something is not done to stop it, all dry land will disappear. But, as she contacts the Stone Council, she finds their reaction to the news troublingly blasé. Fearing for what is to come, she dispatches Privet to find Athel and bring her home.
Meanwhile, Athel finds herself forming an unlikely friendship with Spirea, but before they can overcome their families’ rivalries, Spirea is captured by the authorities and sentenced to be returned to Wysteria, where she will surely be executed.
Not willing to leave her to her fate, Athel and the Dreadnaught crew hatch an unusual plan. They travel to Stretis, with the intention to steal the Eye of the Storm necklace, an heirloom of the throne which will grant royal status to anyone crafty enough to claim it, but more importantly, it also conveys diplomatic immunity.
They all pitch into the ill-conceived plan and Athel finds herself growing jealous of the way women are fawning over Alder as he plays his part. The magics they unleash go completely haywire, and in the confusion, they manage to make off with the necklace.
As they travel back to Thesda to present the necklace to
Spirea and save her life, Athel’s behavior becomes bizarre. She fawns over Alder, takes up the cooking and the cleaning, and begins wearing a maid’s outfit. By the time Privet catches up with them, she is almost unrecognizable as the person they knew.
Alder finds himself conflicted. He is falling for Athel, and feels guilty because he knew something was wrong, but was too pleased at her attentions to say anything. Luckily, Privet realizes what spell is upon her, and they are able to restore her just in time to get the terrible news: Athel’s mother is desperate to warn everyone about the advance of the seas, and in protest of the Stone Council’s attempts to silence her, she formally withdraws Wysteria from the League.
They reach Thesda, but it is too late for Spirea. Her family’s curse, which passes along a demon, possessing each head of the household in turn, has fallen upon her, and she is utterly consumed and replaced by the dark presence. They discover this has been happening for generations to her ancestors, but something is different this time. The spell cast upon her and Athel has interfered with the transfer, and a sliver of her remains within. Athel and the others take her to the man who placed the spell on them, and force him to modify it, allowing the real Spirea to slowly replace the demon which has possessed her.
Athel decides to stop fawning over Privet and propose to him. Alder helps, even though his feelings for her are blossoming into love. He decides that he wants her to be happy, even if it is not with him, and gives his all in preparation of the courtship dinner.
Athel proposes to Privet, and although he does have feelings for her, his own emotional scars and trauma of the past get the better of him, and he rejects her. Athel is deeply hurt. As Alder consoles her, she begins to truly appreciate his companionship, and the seeds of her own feelings for him begin to grow.
When an agent of the Kabal that controls the Stone Council captures the crew of the Dreadnaught, they find themselves utterly powerless to stop her. She casts a dark spell on many of them, bringing out their deep, hidden feelings. When she casts it on Captain Evere, it reveals that he deeply hates his wife’s people for what they did to him. When she casts it on Privet, it reveals that while he is strong physically, he is a coward inside.
The agent Mandi casts it on Alder, expecting him to murder Athel for all the mistreatment he endured as her slave, but instead he manifests pure love for her. Shocked, Mandi stumbles and falls to her death, and Alder kisses Athel, who finally opens up her heart and realizes that she loves him, too.
Athel and Alder are married through her tree, Deutzia. During the wedding Spirea wakes up; the demon inside of her thrashing about in confusion as its memories merge with hers. It escapes the Dreadnaught and leaves, taking the Eye of the Storm with it.
Fearing for her friend, Athel sent Tigera, the man whose magic resided in Spirea, to find her and continue to make adjustments to the spell in the hopes that the real Spirea would eventually reemerge.
Making good on its threats, the Stone Council gathered together a massive fleet of ten thousand airships to attack Wysteria. Caught behind enemy lines, Athel and the Dreadnaught crew embark on a desperate plan to destroy a secret communications tower that would force the fleet to withdraw and regroup. The forest of Wysteria fought valiantly to defend itself. Even the goddess Milia manifested to protect her children, and during the fight she was wounded to the point of death.
Athel’s plan worked, and with the tower out of commission, the fleet temporarily withdrew, leaving a crippled forest behind. Deciding to take back the initiative, Athel and her mother devised a daring plan to stage a raid against the federal treasury in an attempt to bankrupt the navy into calling off the offensive. Gathering together the leaders of the largest pirate guilds on Aetria, including the conniving Setsuna, they emptied the vaults, only to be trapped inside with the authorities quickly approaching. Setsuna and Privet fought an honor duel, which he won, forcing her to help them escape, and unwittingly becoming her fiancé according to the laws of her people.
Through their actions in the tower and the vaults, they came to the horrible realization that the magic used to make airships fly and communicate over vast distances was actually void magic, created by sacrificing living souls. They also discovered that ruper spice was the means by which the Kabal were harvesting those souls.
In an attempt to cut down the flow, they ventured to the dangerous dragon isles, only to be attacked by the dragons themselves. Learning that the dragons were being hunted by the Stonemasters, they fought to free them, and led the dragons on a raid, destroying the enormous facility that manufactured the spice to begin with.
Back on Wysteria, things were falling apart. Athel’s mother had fallen into a coma, and her older sister’s madness led her to squander away their resources and resolve in her absence. Despite their economic collapse, the Stone Council managed to force the navy to return to Wysteria, unpaid, unsupplied, and starving, with orders to destroy it utterly.
As Athel returned to her homeland, the Stormcallers of Stretis, in a particular act of cruelty, conjure up a tidal wave that hit Wysteria’s east coast, destroying huge swaths of the forest and several cities. Athel arrived to find her homelands in ruin, her people scattered, her hopes dashed.
Making the ultimate sacrifice, Athel entered a cocoon and fused with the forest, becoming the new Queen. She emerged, rallying her people, and pushing back the weary and exhausted attackers, and infecting them with a plague that could not be easily cured without the Wysterians’ ability to grow massive amounts of special healing herbs.
When the Stone Council denied the navy’s repeated requests to pull away and heal themselves, and realizing that their own lands were in danger of falling into the sea, their morale broke, and more than half crossed the line, pledging their allegiance to the newly formed Wysterian Alliance, and giving the island such a huge influx of warships and personnel that further attack became impossible, effectively ending the invasion.
On the eve of victory, Athel and Alder were present for the birth of their first daughter, born through her tree, Deutzia. However, as the fruit is picked and the baby removed from within, they discover that it is not a daughter, but a son.
Now our story continues…
Prologue
“A boy?! How can Arolla be a boy?!”
The courtiers whispered to one another as they milled about the great hall of living wood, exchanging worried glances and hushed accusations.
“Is it an ill omen?”
“Have we displeased Milia?”
“Surely taking in those disgusting foreigners has caused this.”
They all snapped to attention as they felt the Queen draw near. Her honor guard stepped in first, clad in glistening armored gowns of silver and white. Even in her own throne room they checked every inch and covered every exit. During a time of war, no precaution was too great.
Queen Forsythia glided purposefully into the hall, a picture of regal beauty and dignity. With a graceful wave of her hand, the living wood that made up the walls and ceiling pinched closed, sealing off the sunlight from outside. The crystal chandeliers responded by humming to life, bathing the hall in a gentle amber light, reflecting off the pearls in her flawlessly braided auburn red hair.
The courtiers studied her closely. A hundred eyes searching for any sign of distress or worry on her face, but her calm and icy demeanor betrayed nothing. Forsythians were famous for that. Even at funerals, they shed not a single tear. The courtiers reached out through the living wood beneath their feet and touched her heart, probing for any doubt, but they could find none, or if there was any, she kept it hidden too deep for them to see. They met only her confident resolve, her indomitable will to protect the forest. Without a word, she reached back into them and soothed their worries. Her unwavering spirit steadied the heart of every woman on the island, reassuring, comforting, harmonizing. Within moments, the song of the forest was restored, and while the mystery of a mal
e-child being born of a tree was still present, it was now accompanied with the faith that in time the mystery would be solved.
Queen Forsythia stood before them, a pillar of strength, and a monolith of purpose. She had saved the forest from complete destruction at the hands of the navy. They could not help but feel a beloved trust towards her.
For the benefit of the men in the room who could not link through the trees, she spoke aloud. “Metheren of the court, citizens of Wysteria,” she said in the same commanding feminine tones her mother was famous for, “I want to thank all of you for coming to witness the sprouting of new life into my house. We will be planting my child’s Ma’iltri’ia seed this afternoon. In the meantime, I hope you will understand my desire to spend a few minutes alone with my newborn.”
The courtiers bowed respectfully and began to file out of the hall, many of them carrying stacks of scrolls and papers, urgent matters that required attention, but they would have to wait for a few minutes. Dahoon and the other men of the court scrambled out as well, frantically trying to reschedule the rest of the day to fit everything in.
Queen Forsythia sat on her throne and watched them with her penetrating hazel eyes until the last of them left. The guards took up positions outside the exits, leaving her alone. Only once the doors closed did she remove herself from the link.
Her staff fell from her grip, rattling to the floor.
“A boy?! How can Arolla be a boy?!” Athel asked herself, the panic coming through in her voice. She brought her knees up to her chin and hugged them, sweat forming on her brow. She wanted to run, but where could she go? Her eyes darted about. For a fleeting moment, she thought to sprint down to the catacombs beneath the palace where the Goddess Milia lay. Surely she could explain this to her, but Athel rebuked herself. It would be a wasted effort. Milia was at the point of death, and beyond communion. She vainly thought to run to her mother and ask for her counsel, but she again scolded herself. Her mother was in a coma, and was not expected to recover.
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