by Jann Rowland
On Lonely Paths
Earth and Sky
By Lelia Eye and Jann Rowland
On Wings of Air
On Lonely Paths
On Tides of Fate*
*Forthcoming
On Lonely Paths
Earth and Sky Trilogy
Book Two
By
Lelia Eye
&
Jann Rowland
One Good Sonnet Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are products of the authors’ imagination.
ON LONELY PATHS
Copyright © 2016 Lelia Eye and Jann Rowland
Published by One Good Sonnet Publishing
All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1987929071
ISBN-13: 9781987929072
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, digital, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dedication
Table of Contents
On Lonely Paths
COPYRIGHT PAGE
Dedication
Sanctuary
Beginning
Gift
Questions
King
Future
Jealousy
Bloodthirst
Clash
Nobility
Travel
Farewells
Aid
Mountain
Abomination
Devotion
Unease
Discontent
Fauna
Waterweavers
Chosen
Waves
Betrayal
Anger
Tutelage
Yearning
Nightmare
Protection
Cliff
Schemes
Stealth
Capture
Promises
Altar
Escape
Withdrawal
Excerpt from On Tides of Fate
Social Media
For Readers Who Enjoy Pride and Prejudice
Also by One Good Sonnet Publishing
Acknowledgements
About Lelia Eye and Jann Rowland
PROLOGUE
Sanctuary
A wind moved through the trees, stirring the verdant leaves clinging to their branches. It was a mere wisp of a wind, hardly enough to cause more than the slightest rustling and creaking of the trees. But it was foreign, nonetheless, for a being who had rarely found herself exposed to such elements.
There was beauty in this land, a purity of emerald woods and jade foliage, brown earth and varicolored stones, and the impossible cyan of an endless sky. But it was not her home. And though the home she knew and loved was one that her people had been forced to live in by circumstances and hatreds as ancient as time itself, it was still home. It was beauty. It was familiar.
But here the presence of the Goddess permeated everything, and for that, she could be thankful and revel in the vast and sacred presence of the Almighty. And in these moments of tranquility, she could occupy her mind with the simplest of activities, doings that meant nothing in the grand scheme of the world, but that calmed and soothed any tumult of the mind. The time for important events and heroic deeds would arrive soon enough.
With infinite slowness, she drew water into the moist air from the small stream running through the sanctuary, watching the crystalline liquid gleam in the scattered light that fell through the canopy of leaves above, moving her arm through the air in a series of undulations that the water imitated precisely. It was when she stood within the bounds of the sanctuary—merging tendrils of her mind with the element beloved by her people—that she always felt most at peace. Yet she knew such peace could not last, and as the odd quiet of the forest pressed inward on her, her heart felt heavy with the knowledge that soon nothing would be as it had been.
While she was thus engaged, the tenor of the wind altered slightly, whispering wordless warnings in the air and causing the normally vociferous birds and energetic rodents nearby to pause in their activities. The whole wood seemed to hold its collective breath for a long moment, wondering, waiting, watching. Important events were afoot, and soon she would be required to intervene. The Goddess had commanded it.
Though she glanced at the nearby trees and frowned, she did not cease what she was doing, knowing it was not yet time for her to act. She could enjoy herself a few moments longer.
The Goddess had ordered her to guard the sanctuary until it was time for her to return home, and while she had not been provided much information, it was not her place to question the commands that were given to her. Understanding was not required. She knew only that this sacred place would not be breached by the hand of Skychild or Groundbreather that day. Still, it was her place to obey. The Goddess would let her know what was necessary in time.
As she leaned down to touch the ground and bring a strand of water into her hand, the earth began to quake beneath her feet. She paused, and then, with a slight movement of her hand, she returned the water to the stream. The time for serenity was over.
Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward, following the stream, leaping over nearby rocks with all the grace and surefootedness of a deer. Already, she heard the sound of the earth breaking and the wind whipping at the surrounding terrain.
And then she burst through the trees into a clearing. Two men were locked in battle.
One man was obviously a Skychild, with short and unruly hair that stuck up in curls every which way about his head. While his was a face that might have often looked kind, there was no kindness in his eyes as he snapped whirlwind after whirlwind at his opponent.
The other man threw stakes formed from hardened dirt at the Skychild. Despite the manic nature of his attack, his face was almost expressionless, with only a slight tightness visible about the eyes. His long black hair was pulled back in taut braids that twisted this way and that as he moved in a sort of dance, sending forth a volley of attacks. Through it all, he remained calm, yet there was a hidden fury underlying his actions which bespoke of his solidness of purpose. As she gazed further at him, she noticed wounds on his face and hands, and she wondered whether the Skychild had caught him by surprise.
A large stone flew up from the ground, forced upward at an angle by an explosion of dirt. The Skychild twisted to avoid the rock. But he was too slow, and it rammed into his side. He gasped and put a hand to the injured area, hissing in pain. Several smaller stones shot forward and pelted him.
She wondered for a moment why he had not flown up into the air to escape, and then she saw the mounds of dirt entrapping his feet. He could not have moved if he had wanted to.
“You might as well give up now,” the Groundbreather taunted as he continued his assault. “I will destroy the pretender’s precious little sanctuary, and I will destroy you with it.”
“Considering the ineptitude of your god,” the Skychild said, “I’m surprised you had the wherewithal to make it this far.”
The Groundbreather chuckled. “The chimera kit has claws, I see. It is a pity you shall not be able to use them before I kill you.”
“You’ll find that you aren’t dealing with a chimera, but a dragon!” the Skychild growled, shooting a whirlwind forward.
The Groundbreather had apparently grown too complacent, as the funnel caught him by surprise and knocked him against a tree. A large rock, catapulted by the wind, flew upward, striking his cheek and drawing blood. He grunted and ap
peared to be struggling to breathe as he stumbled forward a few steps.
The Skychild gave a harsh laugh and shot off another gust of wind.
This time, the Groundbreather was prepared, and he used the soil beneath him to hold his own feet to the ground and keep himself from lifting in the air. Once the small funnel had passed, he said, “You think you are anything like that mythical creature? I dare say the Skychildren are deluded indeed if they believe they have anything in common with such imaginary creatures as dragons!”
“You are wrong. I know it exists, and soon its devastation will be turned upon your people.”
The Skychild threw his hands out and sent a dozen small whirlwinds carrying the debris of the forest—rocks, nuts, tree limbs, leaves, dust—toward his opponent.
A wall of dirt sprung up around the Groundbreather, and though the earthen structure was buffeted, it remained intact.
While the other man was occupied, the Skychild took a few moments to yank at his feet and use rough bursts of wind to remove the earth holding him in place. He succeeded in freeing one foot, but the other remained stuck to the ground.
As the wind attack waned, the dirt cage disintegrated, falling into dust at the Groundbreather’s feet. The man gave a grim smile. “You may feel yourself to be skilled among your kind, but compared to me, you are nothing.”
“Pretty words for one who worships filth,” the Skychild spat.
The Groundbreather did not respond with words; rather, he formed a sharp spear from the earth and tossed it forward, unfazed when the Skychild batted it aside with the wind. This happened time and time again, with the Groundbreather thrusting spear after spear forward, and the Skychild deflecting each aerial weapon.
But the Skychild, in his desperation to take to the skies, let himself become too distracted by the prospect of freeing his other foot, and as the Skychild glanced down, the Groundbreather seized the opportunity before him.
A platform of dirt shot up in front of the Skychild. Then it rammed forward.
As the platform hit the Skychild, it jolted him loose from the earth’s hold and knocked him into a tree. He cried out in pain. If his chest had not been crushed, it would be soon.
The time had come to intervene.
“Enough!” she shouted, drawing the Groundbreather’s attention to her. With a wave of her hand, she called water forth from the nearby stream and pushed it at the Groundbreather in a small wave. He cursed and jumped backward, avoiding the water and allowing the platform of earth he had been controlling to crumble back into dirt.
The Skychild fell to the ground, clutching at his chest and struggling to breathe.
She surveyed his injuries with a quick glance. Though he was seriously wounded, she believed he would live. It was well. He still had a role in the events to come.
“So, you are one of those who play with water, are you? You and your kind think you can stop us?” the Groundbreather scoffed. He was standing in a stiff-backed manner, and one might have never known he had been battling were it not for the slight sheen of sweat on his brow.
“You must stop fighting the inevitable,” she told him, refusing to rise to the bait. “The place you seek is inaccessible to one of your kind, much as it is to one of his kind.” She gestured to the injured Skychild. “Try as you might, you shall not gain access, and it is pointless to attempt to do so.”
“Who are you?” the Skychild gasped as he struggled to stand. “You can control water?”
“It does not matter who I am,” she replied, glancing at him in pity. “What matters is that even should you defeat me, you will not be able to enter the sanctuary. It is barred to you and any who follow those who are enshrouded in falsehoods.”
“You should mind your manners, godless one,” the Groundbreather spat, “or you might find the god of my people falling upon you with his righteous wrath and divine fury.”
She did not bother to enlighten him. She knew exactly who he was—she knew who they both were—and she was aware they would not listen to any of the truths she protected.
“I will take my chances,” she said wryly.
“Terrain shall reward me if I deal with you here and now,” the Groundbreather snarled. “Your kind should have been extinct long ago.”
Noting the Groundbreather’s raised hands, she braced herself for his attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Skychild rise from the ground and then make a swift retreat. No doubt he had realized that he had no hope of accomplishing his mission while injured so badly.
A spear fashioned from the earth at her feet caught her attention, and she dodged to the side. The spear was followed by several more in quick succession.
She lifted her hands, and from the very air about her, a massive wall of water appeared, absorbing the flying spears as though they were nothing more than paper. She motioned her hands forward, and the wall rushed toward the surprised Groundbreather, crashing into him and bowling him over. He tumbled until he hit the base of a large oak.
The man was dazed, but he managed to roll over, planting his feet on the ground, bent at the knees, with one hand steadying himself. He sucked air into his lungs in great gulps, and he glared at her with murder in his eyes.
“Are you ready to cease this pointless struggle?” she asked mildly.
“I shall find you again—you and your kind,” the man spat. “And when I do, it shall be the end of your people, as it should have been eons ago.”
“Go,” she told him with a wave of her hand. “Go, and do not return.”
For a moment, she thought he might attack again. He glared at her as if he wished her to die; it must have infuriated him to be dismissed so casually, given his supposed position of authority. But he seemed to realize he was overmatched in this place, and a few heartbeats later, he had left her sight in the maze of trees and underbrush.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She doubted that either man would make such an attempt again. At least not alone. But no matter. She understood some of what was to come, and that gave her comfort. There was much to be done before all was made right. But it would one day be so. The Goddess had decreed it.
Darkness.
Darkness and the nothingness.
Terrain filled the darkness. There was no existence but Terrain. There was no beginning. There was no end. There was only Terrain.
Terrain commanded the universe to appear, and it did. That moment was a beginning.
A wave of Terrain’s almighty hand set a spectrum of colors dancing across all of existence. A call from his expansive voice filled creation with sound.
But it remained unformed. Chaotic.
CHAPTER
ONE
Beginning
It was night in the sky realm. And what a night it was.
The dark sky was clear, and the stars could be seen with such clarity that it seemed as though there was nothing in between the firmament above and the earth below. The wind shifted and swirled about the settlements of the Skychildren, the setting calm and peaceful, yet giving a hint of a world which, though no longer flush with youth, was alive and rich with life.
On the ground world below, the night was equally fine—warm, as dictated by the summer season, yet possessing no hint of the sometimes spectacular storms which plagued the area during the summer.
But the world below was of no concern to the two who rested upon the soft grasses of the sky realm. Here and there, hints of nearby foliage, though not as lush and green as that found on the earth below, could be seen in the darkness. Heathers, brush, and even the occasional stunted trees covered the landscape, bringing life to what would otherwise be a blasted land.
The two people themselves were a study in contrast that would not have been seen anywhere in the world some months before. The man was tall and slender, with short locks of straight blond hair and cobalt-colored eyes. He was intelligent and kind, but quick to anger and lacking patience, something his companion often teased him about, though always with the utmost of
affection.
By contrast, the woman was small in stature, though her determination and intelligence more than made up for her short height. While she did not possess a particularly fiery personality, she was not to be trifled with. As for her looks, they were the opposite of his, for she sported a mane of long, rich, chestnut hair and had a lovely face with amber-colored eyes.
The fact that the Skychildren and the Groundbreathers had been the bitterest and oldest of enemies had been all but forgotten by the young couple gazing up at the stars, though the two peoples were not as quick to embrace one another as the two lovers were. Still, both the man and the woman believed that a change in attitudes and relations would make their world a better place. This belief and their love for each other drove them to continue their course in spite of the obstacles that arose before them. They were determined it would always be thus.
The woman shifted, gazing fondly at the man beside her for a moment before turning her eyes upward once more. She loved the look of peace and contentment upon her fiancé’s face. Their patience had been sorely tried of late—in large part due to their impending wedding—yet these stolen moments were theirs to enjoy together in relative solitude. At present, there was no need to worry about family members and advisers or handling the variety of problems that had cropped up as they attempted to facilitate peaceful trade relations between their peoples. This night was theirs. They could afford to be selfish for a brief time.
“One of the things I love most about the sky realm is how I can see the stars so clearly,” Tierra said softly, breaking the silence between them.
“A Groundbreather who also fancies herself a stargazer? I fear you may be disowned by your people for heresy,” Skye teased.