Euphoria
By Scott J. Kramer
A Territories Novel
Euphoria
By Scott J. Kramer
Copyright 2016 by Scott J. Kramer
Smashwords Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Prizm Books, and imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770
Euphoria by Scott J. Kramer Copyright 2016
Editor, Deelylah Mullin
Cover by Kris Norris
Published with permission
www.prizmbooks.com
ISBN: 978-1-944449-62-9
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Prizm Books, an imprint of Torquere Press, LLC, P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770
First Prizm Books Printing: June 2016
DEDICATION
To my sister, Kerri, who could conquer any demons while still having a great hairstyle.
To Evelyn, the world is yours for the taking. Take it now before your sister claims it.
Euphoria
The kingdom of Faldoa has thrived under its new queen. Euphoria has changed the land, yet evil lies in wait. During a mission to dispose of the last pieces of the magic mirror, she is attacked by a dark elf assassin using a mysterious box. Taylon, her captain of the Royal Guard, is able to fight off the assailant, but not before the queen is wounded.
Deep in the Territories, a strange prophecy comes forth from the elves, and Council Member Gantha travels on a mission to find a wizard of races. Little does he know that this little foretelling speaks of the resurrection of pure evil.
Taylon, with the help of a local medicine woman, seeks out a cure for the queen’s sickness in the far reaches of the kingdom, while the pieces of the magic mirror cause their own havoc. Previously published by Turquoise Morning Press.
Prologue
Guilaud of Deharem, powerful wizard that he was, wept. The evil only slept. Only contained, not destroyed as he had hoped. And at what cost? His beloved wife gone, her body ravaged by that...wraith. His powers significantly drained. And what to show for it? A cursed mirror.
Regret swallowed all. Sadness overwhelmed, sucking the life out of him as the wraith had. Cold stone welcomed him as he curled up on the floor, feet away from the cage. This cage now held the withered corpse he had once called Rose, his wife.
This place would be his tomb. That he was sure of. Nothing enticed him outside this dimly lit cave. Everything was here. The mirror, the box, the necklace, the ring... Time passed—minutes, hours, centuries. Guilaud didn’t know and didn’t care. His heart could weep forever and still not find forgiveness.
Slowly, he stood, every muscle aching, reminding him of what the wraith had taken. A last look at the cage, the carcass—a shell of someone he loved—brought another clenching fist about his heart. Failure. His plan to restore Rose to the person he loved, shattered and lost. He turned away, wanting to leave those memories behind.
To his left stood the mirror, now a possessed object. Temptation urged him to smash the looking glass, punish the thing inside. Hideous cackles echoed in his head from the beast, and his grief quickly changed to anger. His balled fist raised and began the arc, but Guilaud seized control, knowing to fracture the mirror would unravel everything.
He forced himself to turn away, but his reflection shouted back at him.
Come!
The command shook his inner core and he even swayed forward. But Guilaud’s will remained resolute, staying his raised fist. Slowly he regained control of his whole body. His emotional mind coaxed him forward to yell, to fight, to hurt the thing trapped, but his soul held him solid.
“No.” A single word, but enough to cast the mirror back into shadow again.
The effort exhausted him. His fist unclenched, a piece of crystal dropped to the floor. He stared down at it, puzzled as to its purpose. The wraith, even though trapped, still had power.
His hand slid down his face, wiping away sweat, filth, blood. Too much was left undone, especially if this was to be his tomb. The mirror needed to be covered, tucked into a corner away from it all. Not even a single glimpse could he permit.
Guilaud straightened and walked away from the mirror and the cage to a cabinet that told it all, if one knew the story. His eyes roamed over each piece as he recalled its role in the attempt to save his wife. They skimmed across the box, before fixing upon it.
If he could go back, to that....
But then all this would be different.
The box would remain untouched by him, stored away. Seen, a memento of his failures, but permanently closed. That demon need not torment him again.
The ring, foolishness, yet another folly to correct his mistake.
And the necklace.
He turned, facing the cage again. Around the shriveled, dry neck of the woman, the pendant glowed blue. Rose, his Rose, trapped. This he knew, and he was powerless to bring her back. To even speak to her. To say he was sorry.
The necklace, too, confined, put away. Too dangerous to wear. But it would be displayed as a token. Not of his failure, but a marker of his first sin, his first mistake. Guilaud, the most powerful, defeated.
Slowly he walked to the cage, a somber, mournful pace. He laid his head against the bars of the cell, closed his eyes, and wept.
Chapter One
Euphoria laughed as her horse sped past Taylon’s. He waved away the kicked-up dust. His grin became mischievous as he rode his steed faster.
It was fall finally, his favorite season—not too hot, but definitely not too cold. And the colors were fantastic. Frequently on the ride, Euphoria slowed her horse, gazed up into the trees, marveling, like a small child, at their vibrant colors.
Taylon stared, amazed by her. Six months ago, the woman before him ordered, directed, commanded him like a slave. That Euphoria was a spoiled, rich girl, not caring about anything or anyone within the kingdom she would rule. But now, after Kara, the shard, the wraith...all that changed and for the better.
Euphoria pulled her horse to a nearby tree and quickly dismounted. A playful innocence came with every move she made. This queen was definitely not like any royalty he’d ever come in contact with.
He rode up a second later. “I see you are letting me win again.” She raised a waterskin to her lips and drank deeply, closing her eyes, visibly enjoying the drink. Taylon’s breath caught. She saw him staring but winked.
Taylon dismounted. “It would be wrong for the captain of her new royal guard to best his queen.”
“Oh, would you stop with servant-and-master talk? It is just us around here.” She spun around on the spot, her arms outstretched. Her dark hair caught the sunlight, and again he felt his heart flutter. This time Taylon broke from the spell before she noticed him gawking.
“Yes, milady.” He mocked a little bow.
She threw the waterskin at him playfully, which he deftly caught, flashing back a grin of his own. Her laughter filled the air, and he joined in too.
Oh, how times had changed. A new magic set upon the land with the breaking of the mirror. Reigning now as queen, Euphoria lifted the spirits of the oppressed people living in Faldoa. No more witch hunts, no more unfair laws. And now, maybe a blossoming relationship.
Taylon took a long, cool drink. Riding was thirsty work. They might have to fill up again at the next spring. This skin would definitely not last them until the fall
s of the YiYi, their destination.
Euphoria strolled, her eyes drinking in the array of colors displayed by the trees. He watched her childlike awe, mesmerized by her newfound beauty. To think, six months ago, Taylon would not have dreamed of being this close to Euphoria, to admire her this much, to even…dare he say it…love her.
“I’ll be glad to be rid of the thing finally.”
“Pardon?” His reverie broke as she addressed him.
She turned to him, a quirky smile set on her lips. “Maybe you were not the correct man for the job. Already daydreaming. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” And she winked at him. “I was saying that I will be happy to be rid of the shards once and for all.”
This made him glance to his saddlebag, doubting the sack of mirror pieces was still there. He was still uncomfortable around magic, especially something that had caused so much trouble. “But we won’t be able to sneak away on these secret missions any longer. How will you fill your days?”
Euphoria spun around, a playful gesture. Taylon took in the delicate features of Euphoria; her button nose sprinkled with a smattering of freckles, her twinkling, blue eyes—framed by deep black lashes that feathered across her cheekbones when her eyes closed, and the liquid movement of her limbs that was altogether graceful and mesmerizing. Maybe it had something to do with her necklace. It glowed faint blue in the sunlight.
“I will have fun playing with my tigers, Daisy and Figaro.” She kicked her chin up, a fierce grin spreading across her doll-like features.
“Oh yes, those man-eaters.” Taylon rolled his eyes and laughed. It felt good to laugh. For so many years the oppression of Faldoa suppressed magic and laughter. At least among the Witch Guard.
But now with Euphoria succeeding the now-deceased King La’ard, something was different. Maybe the whole magic-mirror thing had changed her.
“Don’t you…?” Euphoria turned quickly and bumped into Taylon. His hands deftly gripped her upper arms to steady her. He didn’t realize he was so close, but his senses focused on the queen’s every move.
He held Euphoria in his arms, lingering moments more than a simple steadying catch could justify. His eyes locked with hers, and he got lost in the azure pools. His sensory system overloaded—all in an instant.
Yes, he could stay like this forever. Their faces were close, closer than they had ever been. Taylon stared and then inched forward, waiting for a reaction. When none came, he slid his lips in gently to meet hers. Euphoria’s eyes closed as they kissed.
Their lips parted as an instance of doubt caused him pause. Was this too quick? Was it right? He did not want to ruin the moment or even the chance to be with her.
Taylon stared, waiting for her to speak. She stared back, unreadable yet leaning toward him. Such beautiful eyes….
A bird cried out loudly from above, and both of them jumped. Taylon looked back at Euphoria, but she turned away, hiding her beauty and grace from his view. His heart pounded. Had he ruined their budding relationship? Had he been too forward?
“We-we should get going.” She mounted her horse, the laughter from a moment ago lost in the breeze.
Taylon hesitated but a moment before he sat astride his horse. He wanted to know more, to know if he had crossed a line. How was he to take her reaction? Putting his questions and uncertainty aside, he kicked his horse into gear. Later he would ask.
***
Hoof beats. At last.
Katrena listened again. Yes, definitely horses.
A rush of pure adrenaline surged through the dark elf. Her hand tightened on a mahogany box, her weapon that would make the poor human queen scream.
Katrena closed her eyes, calming the intense feelings that raced through her. Finally, after these past six months, she would exact some of her revenge. True, it wasn’t upon Kreitan—former Witch Guard captain. He lay decaying somewhere. And it wasn’t upon the king who sanctioned her capture and torture. He, too, was dust.
But La’ard’s daughter.... She was still alive and could feel pain.
Logic played no role in her need for blood. A dark elf never forgot or forgave. The Opi’Chi reputation was known far and wide, thus making them a feared race. Soon, very soon, Euphoria would have her comeuppance.
Carefully, Katrena planned this ambush; she’d picked a perfect vantage point—a tall oak that still held on to its foliage. Camouflaged here, she would strike like a Lire Wolf, pounce upon the queen’s “guard,” and then take her time torturing her true prey. A bolt for the captain and the demon for the queen.
Katrena stroked the lid of the box, feeling the power contained within—the demon. It had been tricky to command, but after a little practice on a few test subjects, Katrena had mastered the skill.
Soon, all of this waiting and planning would come to a head.
A stick snapped nearby, causing the dark elf to jerk toward the sound. Anger flooded her. Assassins did not surprise easily. Again, she closed her eyes, muttering a calming mantra to herself. Katrena would not ruin this moment.
She allowed herself to listen, take in everything, and be aware of her surroundings. Calm filled her.
A deer fed nearby. She heard tearing at leaves from a bush. A bird, no two, fluttered overhead. And then horses. Two of them. Approaching her location.
Katrena opened her eyes, smiling.
Soon.
***
Euphoria’s dark, chocolate-brown hair flew wildly in the wind as the horse freely galloped beneath her. She held back a laugh, enjoying the ride, trying to let her emotions regarding the kiss go. But they would not be suppressed.
Ever since she attained this body upon the cracking of the mirror, life had been strange. No longer trapped inside a necklace, Rose possessed someone else now. Euphoria. She didn’t understand the magic behind it. Her husband Guilaud would have, but he….
The horse jumped a fallen log, jostling her thinking into disarray.
The feelings alone of being alive again were extraordinary. But at what price? Her true husband was dead centuries ago. I am queen. A vibrant, beautiful woman. But even with all that, Rose felt something was missing. Sure, she was attracting handsome, young men, in a different time, in a different land, posing as someone else. As happy as she was, sadness rooted deep within.
Taylon knew the truth, of course. They had been through the wraith ordeal together. And they were even closer now. She felt their attraction, and she wanted it. But was she betraying Guilaud?
Her horse swiftly took the corner, and a tree brushed her shoulder. Thoughts scattered again. Taylon pulled up beside her as the trail widened.
“Next town is only a little farther. We can stop there.” He flashed a smile. It soothed her worried mind.
Thunk!
One moment Taylon was there, and the next only his horse. Euphoria brought the reigns taut. Her horse neighed, threw its head back in retort, but quickly heeded the command. Taylon lay in the dirt clutching his shoulder, a crossbow bolt protruding.
What was…?
But those were the only two words she could muster before a scream filled her head. A piercing wail, shattering active thought. Suddenly, fire flooded her body. Fire—burning, scorching agony ripped through her heart. Her own voice echoed the scream.
A force jerked her out of her saddle, and she fell to the hard-packed ground. Her eyes wildly danced about, unable to focus through the tears. She heard Taylon, but another torturous scream erupted from within her. Something like needles traveled through her skin, poking and tearing. She swung her arm up, expecting to see cuts, blood, but there was only dirt and pain.
Euphoria thrashed, arms and legs splaying out at all angles, trying to shake away the hurt. Chaos convoluted her senses, a taste of something foul, putrid; an aroma of burning wood, and another obnoxious odor filled her nose. Above her, sky and forest blended into one.
“Euphoria!” Taylon was over her, his brow creased, and his eyes roaming erratically over her. In a second between bursts of agony, she locked her gaze with him, p
leading. She heard someone laugh from the trees.
“What have you…?” But the rest was lost as her own banshee cry drowned all else out. Death would be a terrific release for her.
Seconds, minutes, maybe hours passed as she released her anguish through tears and screams. Why? Who? When? All were questions that briefly formed before they were shattered, lost.
As suddenly as it’d begun, it stopped.
Swords clashed near her, but Euphoria barely registered it. Every cell throbbed and waited, anticipating the next wave of pain. Her mouth hung open, ready to scream. But nothing came.
Except someone did scream.
For a moment, Euphoria thought the pain was back, and she screamed. But it wasn’t her. Turning her head, black spots danced about her eyes. The cry stopped and now someone yelled words. To her? Was it Taylon?
And he appeared at her side, fresh blood dripping from a cut on his cheek.
“My queen!”
She looked up, trying to answer him. The dark spots grew, and she felt herself slipping away. She wanted to say thank you, and even I’m sorry. She wanted to say so many things, yet her mouth wouldn’t respond.
Her eyes closed as the darkness took her.
Chapter Two
Hazel arched her back until she heard a pop. Relief flooded her body as her tense muscles and sore bones moaned from the released pressure. She was not a spring chicken anymore—well past spring, more of an old clucker. A heavy chuckle erupted from her. It always made her laugh, even though it was the same joke every time her back cracked.
The medicine woman looked eighty-seven but was really sixty-three. A bad skin pox back in her forties ravaged her complexion, making her appear ancient, decrepit. Sometimes she felt as bad as she looked. The residents of Smead came to her for anything that ailed them; she cured them, birthed their children, and even gave last rites over those dying. Only once did she have to tangle with the crown and the Witch Guard. A local boy spread the rumor she possessed the talent to do magic. Smeadians were gullible people. The Witch Guard came in, but Hazel stood her ground. Spooks came to investigate, but in the end Hazel was cleared. The town went back to normal.
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