by Ravek Hunter
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book without permission are a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact us at [email protected].
Thank you for the support of the author’s rights.
First Edition, March 2018
Copyright © 2018 Ravek Hunter Literary LLC
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-948782-07-4 (paperback), 978-1-948782-05-0 (ebook)
For Mrs. Wife,
who gave me two incredible boys
that I hope will be proud to read their father’s work one day.
Books by Ravek Hunter:
Red Wizard of Atlantis
Saving Eridu
The Fallen
The Imaziɣen Druid
If you enjoy reading any of the books in the Worlds of Atlantis Series please remember to leave a review!
Learn more about the Backstory, Mythology, Character Development or view World Maps at http://www.WorldsOfAtlantis.com!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: Awakening
Chapter 2: Graduation
Chapter 3: Departure
Chapter 4: The Naos of Kronos
Chapter 5: Going Home
Chapter 6: Lessons
Chapter 7: Paein
Chapter 8: Aquilon
Chapter 9: The Sylvan Forest
Chapter 10: Beasts of Legend
Chapter 11: Chasing Ogres
Chapter 12: Braetling
Chapter 13: Anesidora’s Pithos
Chapter 14: Avalon City
Chapter 15: Visions
Chapter 16: The Hjaltadans
Chapter 17: New Friends
Chapter 18: Child of Gold
Chapter 19: Shadows
Chapter 20: The Grove House
Chapter 21: Belthagore
Chapter 22: Recovery
Chapter 23: Shrine of Metis
Chapter 24: Confrontation
Chapter 25: The Departure
Cast of Characters
Glossary
About the Author
Connect with Ravek Hunter
It was from the stars they came, out of the vast darkness of the Primeval Cosmos, falling from the sky in a wingless creature. Consumed with fire and thunder, it crashed to the earth and plowed a long rift before coming to rest on the lush green grasslands. The beast lay shattered and bent, yet many crawled through the smoke and death out of the mouth of what remained and onto the land they would call their home. Although none could remember who they were or where they came from, they knew that they were alive. However, the silver beast that brought them was dead, and they had no knowledge to heal it. Thus they removed its shiny scales piece by piece to make their own shelters from its body while they buried their dead.
They were a people determined to survive and make a place for themselves. From the entrails of the beast, they also brought glowing red crystals. The crystals provided light and vibrated with a hum at a frequency that soothed many of them to their soul. Those crystals they carried to a safe place deep in the empty caverns of a long dormant volcano in the spine of the island they were soon to settle. Eventually they would understand that these crystals gave them power, and they endeavored to learn what they could of them.
In time they gave themselves a name. They called themselves the followers of Atlas, the one who led them here and gave them hope for a new future. In time, the strange blue people became known as the Atlanteans who dwelled in the place called Atlantis. And they thrived.
Recorded in the Fourth Age of the Golden Aspen
by Watcher CrellianRafkarSil of Avalon
Prologue
Sylvan Year - 4088
“Hold the damned shield, Laghfrin!”
“You worry about that Demon, Dhroghan! I will see to the shield!” Laghfrin had to scream to be heard above the noise of battle. She glanced over at the nine other Tuatha De wizards maintaining the enormous bubble that was the shield holding all the Demons but one. Already they had lost seven of their number, and with each loss, those who were left had to work that much harder to keep the shield from failing.
Laghfrin could feel each one of them through the link they shared. She knew how much strength they had and which ones would fail first. With their losses, she couldn’t afford to lose even one more. It was a race against time; either the last Demon would be trapped or one of Laghfrin’s wizards would fail, and the shield would fail with them. There wasn’t much time left. Everything depended on these Tuatha De of the Blood, pure born with no corrupt interbreeding with humans or any other species. They gave their lives dearly for this world, knowing that there were no others to replace them. Not since the Breaking had a pure-born Blood been born.
“Zamfer!” Dhroghan yelled to the Atlantean emperor. “Watch your flank! The Demon is sending beasts against you!”
The Atlantean emperor, tall and beautiful, his blue-tinted skin slick with sweat running down his elongated skull and his Aurinium sword coated in the black blood of Demons, led his warriors against a group of indescribable creatures. The Demon Lord could summon these beasts, all horns, teeth, and claws, and they fought mindlessly without regard for their own lives.
Laghfrin felt helpless. All she could do was focus on the shield while the others battled the last Demon Lord. If they failed, she would die standing there, wasted and useless. She had no choice. Over the past several days they had lured thirteen Chaos Demons and six Demon Lords into the prison she and the others held, but not without a terrible price. Thousands of bodies littered the battlefield over at least a league. Most of them were humans, but there were a few Dwarfs, Elves, and Atlanteans scattered among them . . . and seven of her own.
“Brak!” Dhroghan cried desperately. “To the north!”
A company of Dwarfs charged around her, led by the Mountain King, Brak Iron-teeth, lord of the Dvergr Dwarfs. They were tasked with defending the Tuatha De wizards keeping the shield from failing. So far, they performed valiantly against the terrors conjured by the Demon Lords. Laghfrin reluctantly acknowledged that without the protection of the short, ugly creatures, many more of the Blood would not be alive.
For nine days they had battled the Demons. First, the Chaos Demons were rounded up. They were a breeze compared to what was to come. Dhroghan brought them in groups of three or four until all thirteen were rounded up. Then he lured the Demon Lords in one by one.
Each of the Demon Lords brought new horrors that had to be overcome. They were physically powerful, with the ability to conjure minions to aid them in battle and conjure powerful magic. Worst of all, they had psionic power—mental control that allowed them to dominate and destroy another’s mind. Atlantean wizards of the Yellow Hall had similar abilities, and they kept the Demon Lord’s psionic command at bay. Now they were facing the last; all but one was imprisoned behind the shield she and the others held.
“Dhroghan, take care with your fire! My Tree Guardians are coming in!” It was the Sylvan lord, High King RalnapianCalithIlon of Avalon that spoke.
The Demon Lord was close, she could feel him. Glancing quickly to the east, Laghfrin watched what looked like a forest moving into position in front of a fearsome beast that towered over the trees by a factor of three. Its body was red, like the crimson of human blood, with a muscular, humanoid body that bore no clothing at all. And just like the others, it was the head of the creature t
hat sparked the fear in one’s soul. Laghfrin looked away quickly, but she wasn’t quick enough not to remember forever the dreadful visage bearing down on them. The great mandibles that clacked mercilessly over a wide maw filled with rows of teeth longer than the longest broadsword, eyes bloodred and split in the center like those of a snake and long horns protruding from the top of its head to complete the perfect nightmare. All the Demon Lords were distinct from one another in their appearance in terrible, unnatural distortions of the physical world, and Laghfrin knew she would have horrendous dreams that could be attributed to each one. If nothing else, Laghfrin had the satisfaction of knowing that the process of trapping the Demons in the bubble stripped them of their corporeal state, leaving only their consciousness or spiritual essence alive. That was the best that they could do short of sending them back to the Infernal Planes, and that was now impossible with the rift permanently closed.
Laghfrin checked the link with her people and adjusted the balance and flow of the magic they shared to give relief to the weakest. It would just be a little longer. She knew that Dhroghan and the others were preparing to bring it in. Already, the Demon Lord had sent waves of conjured Demons that nearly overwhelmed them. She feared that many more would sacrifice their lives before this last horror was contained in her prison.
She regretted that they did not have enough time to learn about the Demon Lords. She was aware that they all had a True Name but had no clue as to what those names might be. Knowing the True Names would have made their task much more manageable. A Demon Lord could be quickly banished back to the Infernal Planes if his True Name were known. As it was, the best she and her confederacy could do was trap them so they didn’t cause any more harm in the world.
A group of a hundred human warriors moved to confront the Demon Lord, supported by a few dozen Atlantean wizards and Elven archers. Dhroghan was right in the center of them, conjuring lightning and doing his best to keep the Demon focused on him and moving forward. It wasn’t an easy ruse. If he overplayed his deception, the Demon would suspect he was being led, and their plan would fail. That’s where all the other combatants came in . . . to execute a charade.
The Demon Lord waded through the Tree Guardians, setting many of them ablaze, and still they fought on. Dhroghan’s overall strategy was a retreating action to draw the Demon Lord into the invisible bubble that held its brethren. Fortunately, the ego of the Demons worked against them, and they couldn’t see past the illusion of their quarry in retreat—even when it was a methodical withdrawal.
“Forward to the line!” Brak Iron-teeth commanded his company, and they rushed forward to join the fray. They just finished clearing the field of minor Demons near the shield and were needed at the front line.
Laghfrin felt a sort of relief that the Demon Lord was almost within their grasp. It had been nine days of constant battle, no sleep or reprieve, and she was exhausted. She desperately wanted it to be over.
Only ten days ago she stood at the edge of the rift that had somehow formed between the Infernal Planes and their world—she and fifty more of the Tuatha De Blood. No one had been able to say why the breach was there; only that it was and it had to be closed. The thirteen Chaos Demons and seven Demon Lords that had escaped through it caused havoc across the globe. If they hadn’t worked to close the rift quickly, there would have been no force on earth that could stop them all.
The rift was a remarkable thing, spanning over three hundred leagues northwest to southeast and fifty leagues roughly east to west. They knew it would take everything the Tuatha De had to close it. The fifty Tuatha De Blood had taken positions around the whole of the rift and cast their power upon it. The vast energy that they applied caused vitrification of the entire area, creating, in effect, a glass sea. Even still, the evil pervaded the section they had covered, and Laghfrin knew that any civilization, even twenty thousand years to come, would suffer the blight of its corruption if they settled close to it.
The humans who had been sent to defend against the minions conjured by the Demon Lord were all dead. Such a pitiful, primitive species. Thought Laghfrin. And yet we give our lives for them. The Atlantean and Elven warriors were skillfully falling back with Dhroghan and the Dwarfs. They were so close.
Another contingent of several hundred humans was brought forward. Some of them ran immediately, as was expected, but this group had a charismatic leader at the front urging them forward, and they followed. The Demon Lord sent fire into them, and still they came. Fighting with spears and clubs, the humans gave their lives heroically. Six times before, Laghfrin had seen this same display of courage. Each time she was impressed with the fortitude of the humans and their selfless determination. They knew what was at stake instinctively, like animals, and they feared the consequence of loss. If ever a people deserved admiration, it was this strange race, and if Laghfrin lived to see the end of this endeavor, she would weep for these people and devote her life to their evolution.
She felt heat on her back and had to look to see what was happening. There was fire everywhere, but Laghfrin and her Tuatha De were harmed by none of it. Dhroghan was protecting the bearers of the shield who had the Demon Lord almost right on top of them. Just one more step, and it would be over. The Atlanteans, Elves, and humans fell back along the perimeter of the shield that only they could see while Dhroghan stood immediately in front of it, taunting the Demon Lord forward. It came. It came willfully and with fury.
Laghfrin watched helplessly as Dhroghan seemed to disappear into the confines of the shield. He had not done that with the others. It horrified her to watch him vanish into the swirling mass of energy. The Demon Lord followed. They had him. But what of Dhroghan? They had no way of knowing what was happening inside the bubble prison.
“It is time.”
Laghfrin was shocked by the sudden appearance of a woman standing next to her. “Who are you?”
“I am Metis. And it is my task to watch over and protect the confinement of the Demons.” She waved her hand, and a beautifully engraved pithos the size of a human man appeared nearby. “Force the Demons in here.”
“What about Dhroghan?” Laghfrin heard herself screaming. They couldn’t leave him to the fate of the Demons.
“He has made his choice . . . and his sacrifice,” Metis replied.
Laghfrin was overcome with emotion. “No! We cannot leave him!” Only she knew that they were lovers, and the pain of his loss would be intolerable.
Metis was unrelenting. “Do it now! Your wizards do not have much strength left, and the loss of even one will cause the barrier to fail!”
Recognition dawned on her. Laghfrin knew this woman, and she also knew that Metis was right—they had to finish this. She looked down the length of the line of wizards holding the shield. Laghfrin had no choice. Two were already on their knees and would collapse at any moment. They stayed upright by her will alone. As much as it pained her, she issued the command to release the shield into the pithos.
The audible screams from the Demons forced into confinement were almost maddening. Especially since one among them could have been Dhroghan. When it was done, Laghfrin collapsed to her knees from exhaustion and despair, weeping bitter tears.
Metis quietly completed her part, applying the final seal, trapping the Demons in the pithos forever. “Over time you will learn more about these Demons, maybe even their True Names. Fortunately, with prolonged confinement and the rift closed, they will weaken and lose much of their power. Pray that this world will never experience their kind again.” And then Metis and the pithos holding the Demons were gone.
Laghfrin stared at the spot where Metis—she knew that woman by another name—stood for a long time, and then she was startled by a hand touching her shoulder. Turning to see who it was, her heart nearly leaped from her body. It was Dhroghan.
“Where did you come from?” Laghfrin jumped up and hugged him tightly. “I thought I trapped you with the Demons when we collapsed the shields into the pithos!”
Dhroghan kissed her passionately before he answered. “Aww, dearie. I teleported myself away just before the Demon Lord was on me. I guess I went farther than I expected. It took me until now to get back.” He winked at her flippantly. “I am touched by the display, though. Unless you are mourning another of your lovers?”
“So sure of yourself,” Laghfrin chided and kissed him once again before turning serious. “Phalaeh was the one who brought the pithos. She called herself Metis. I thought she died in the Breaking.”
Dhroghan shrugged. “She escaped the Breaking and spends most of her time in Hellas now. They worship her as a goddess there. You know how vain she is. Besides, these humans need guidance.”
Laghfrin knew well his vanity also. “And what do they call you there?”
The question apparently caught him off guard, and his cheeks flushed a little. She expected him to lie, but to her surprise he was forthcoming. “Aether, god of light.”
“Perhaps I will accompany you to Hellas sometime and become a goddess as well,” she teased, barely suppressing a giggle. “But first, we must honor the men and women who died here.”
“Yes,” Dhroghan agreed sadly. “I will mark this place so that no one will forget what has happened here.” He turned and barked orders to his human commanders standing nearby, “Collect the dead and bury them a pace apart, in rows of ten. When you are done, I will mark their graves.” The commanders thumped their chests with their forearms in salute and hurried off to carry out Dhroghan’s orders.
Two days later Laghfrin was standing beside Dhroghan, looking down at the shallow graves of thousands in rows that stretched at least a league to the east. Laghfrin didn’t need to say anything. She knew Dhroghan was just as upset about the loss of life as she was. No Tuatha De wanted to revisit the stain of the Breaking, which cost them so many lives less than two thousand years before.