Ursus Borealis: Book One

by D. L. Lewellyn

  The Starlight Chronicles - Book One

  Ursus Borealis

  D. L. Lewellyn

  Copyright © 2021 Darci Hayden

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: Darci Hayden

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Preface

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  The white ship

  Preface

  Selena Aires grew up virtually alone. When her only friend on his deathbed encouraged her to find her community after he was gone, she could not refuse, and she found the perfect artist bungalow in the woods, and the denizens of the Starlight bar in a mountain town called Quincy.

  But Selena could never have imagined that a prophetic destiny awaited her there. A destiny that would make her the target of an ancient enemy, and the object of desire for three powerful men, men who were much more than her mundane life had prepared her for.

  Prologue

  2212 BC

  “My name is Zigan Nirgal. Jaruk Garza and I are reborn souls that exist to bind with the soul of a human female upon completion of our training as magi with the Order of Hala, to unite in our purpose against three exiled Anurashin princes. There are thirteen such pairs that form every three hundred years. We are in the middle of one of those cycles.

  “Are you ready for sparring today my friend?” Jaruk issued his invitation cheerfully as I reclined on my prayer mat on a rise of ground that perched over verdant fields undulating in rows down to the river’s edge.

  Dozens of laborers were grouped in family batches, clothed in swaths of white, dark heads reflecting the morning light, while they steadily filled colorful baskets with bundles of wheat.

  I rose to greet my friend, who had been asking a question much like this every day for almost one hundred and fifty years, which meant our training was nearing its end.

  The temple of the goddess, Ishtar, was backlit by the rising sun to my left, the direction I had just been facing in my meditation and prayer. The river wound as far as I could see, and I could see for miles beyond the city. The glowing vista reinforced the mood. The big sailing ships perched in the wide harbor like winged birds inspired serenity as well

  Jaruk, discerning that I was not yet ready to give voice to this early tranquil morning, joined me silently to take in the scenery, allowing me to linger a bit longer in peace.

  While most of the citizens of this land went about their mundane activities unaware of the mechanizations of a supernatural kingdom that hid among their own city and was expanding its influence throughout Mesopotamia and into Asia, I was all too aware of the weight of my destiny that stretched out before me as a magus.

  The Order and the prophecy of the marked maidens was a safeguard that the High Council of the planet Anurash put in place, using the powerful forces of its three moons to mitigate the damage of the three wayward princes who had been banished to Earth for their crimes.

  I stooped to roll up my mat then slung it over my shoulder, stretching one last time, inhaling the air laden with morning dew and the scent of cypress trees, figs, pomegranates, and pear from the thick orchards behind me. To the right of the wheat fields was a vineyard sloping gracefully towards the river.

  Though it was still early, the inhabitants of the mudbrick huts at the top of the vineyards were already busy at their various occupations, tending to sheep, beating out rugs, or baking bread, which yeasty smells mingled with the ripening fruit.

  There was even a smelting shed with smoke rising from a hole in the roof just behind the cluster of huts where a metalsmith and his apprentice were busy at a stone workbench under the shade of an ancient olive tree. Even this industry produced a peaceful air this time of morning.

  “Good morning, my friend,” I said finally clasping shoulders with Jaruk. “Impatient as usual I see, for me to beat you at swordplay.”

  “And when have I not been?” His eyes sparkled as he gave me his familiar response.

  Our presence on the hill had caught the attention of some of the laborers in the fields who raised their hands in a greeting. As I acknowledged them, my eyes rested on a woman who straightened from her basket and quietly gazed at me. It was Hulla.

  My gaze lingered on her longer than it should, as I admired her face and form, remembering her as a small child and one of my closest friends before I was sent to the Order. Releasing a sigh of determination, I turned with Jaruk to walk back to the monastery.

  The half mile walk was another welcome part of my morning and Jaruk again remained quiet as we strolled through the fields, enjoying the breeze through the grass and the sounds of birds.

  I thought about Hulla and hoped that she would find a man who would give her the love and family she desired, the security she deserved. She knew as well as I that my destiny lay elsewhere.

  I could not dwell on what could not be. Instead, I thought of the impending meeting with an infant girl child that I will mark as my soul bonded, a child who will grow to become a woman who will shine like a beacon rallying those around her to rise up against a powerful enemy. Then the purpose for my existence would truly begin.

  Jaruk spoke as if reading my mind, “Master Eldohir would like to meet with us before we begin our research this afternoon. It is time my friend.”

  When we arrived at the monastery, we headed immediately for the training yard. Jaruk was excited as always to spar with me. Battle training was his favorite part of the morning.

  “We will see if you have indeed improved your skills,” I teased again. Another daily exchange in answer to Jaruk’s enthusiasm. We never tired of our daily sparring and, even after all these years, we challenged each other. Jaruk was a friend whose skill was worthy of my efforts.

  Next, we would train in the art of spacetime manipulation, telekinesis, and other forms of mental exercise, followed by the much-anticipated meeting today with Master Eldohir, then we would research amid the vast archives.

  I thought about the Anurashin princes once more. They were aware of the prophecy of the marked maidens but had never put much stock in it, always thinking they were invincible and could outsmart any opponent.

  They were unaware of the Order of Hala however and the fact that it had been created by their own High Council forged with the power of the three moons, the source of their own power.

  The magi have maintained the secret order well for a
ny advantage that might give us, as each three-hundred-year cycle played out. Unfortunately, the efforts of the magi, the maidens and their mates had only been enough to hold the princes back from achieving their mysterious goals, but the magi had faith that destruction was inevitable, just not how long the inevitability would take.

  The only other challenge the princes faced in addition to the prophecy was their need to return to Anurash every three hundred years to draw power from the three moons and regenerate their immortality.

  The long-lived princes could afford to be patient and they were relentless, as they hid themselves and their means of space travel within their central colony on their new planet, only appearing when they wreaked havoc over its inhabitants.

  My brethren and I were born of the Anurashin, but here on Earth. We were given to the Order at seven years old to begin our training. But soon we will each follow our own destinies, destinies entwined with the maidens we will mark to unite our souls.

  Once our destiny is fulfilled, we will grow old and die because, unlike the originals, we will never see the home planet, never regenerate. But we will be reborn to start again the prophecy of the marked maidens.

  1120 AD

  I am a marked maiden, a human who was born with a destiny entwined with an alien species, to fight alongside my mate against the three rebellious princes who were banished from the planet Anurash.

  After exile, the Anurashin princes quickly turned their ambitions towards Earth and established hidden colonies, while they engaged in a constant campaign to dominate its races.

  Apparently upsetting kingdoms and monarchies was a preferred method of chaos the princes liked to employ, and the results from these catastrophes somehow increased their power, though they had yet to use what they were amassing.

  Still, my job was to hinder the Anurashin’s plans during my time on this earth, and my mate and I had been working hard in this last year to do just that.

  “Aldric! We must reach the ship before it passes near the Quilleboeuf!”

  The beautiful man standing at my side, who had come to mean everything to me, said, “It has nearly reached the Point. You must call Zigan to us, my love.”

  We had just reached the port at Barfleur after having confirmed the location where the Anurashin prince’s current scheme would take place. Aviel Enair was the oldest of the three banished princes and the most powerful.

  I had learned he meant to somehow sink the White Ship, a ship known for its speed and beauty, and which was now carrying the only legitimate heir to King Henry I across to England.

  We stood virtually unnoticed amongst the throng of bodies rushing towards their duties on the bustling docks, the salty air encasing us, as I breathed in deeply the briny scent, to sharpen my mind as I considered our options.

  Aldric drew me into his side, his big body offering warmth, as I shivered slightly from the chill, and mostly from the urgency of our task.

  The only option available to prevent a disaster was to get on board the ship, but we had missed its launch. Even if we could get aboard her, we still had to discover how Aviel was planning to execute the disaster.

  There were three hundred souls aboard that ship, other nobles as well as the heir and his half siblings. It would be a catastrophic loss to the newly established English monarchy.

  I only came upon the scheme by my own near tragedy at the hands of the ruthless alien prince and his two brothers, Airzoih and Ahno. Aviel had captured Aldric and I when we invaded his stronghold in Normandy, an encampment really, that he had temporarily set up for his latest operation.

  Of course, my mate and our Pack had not let us get captured without a rescue plan, which was executed perfectly, setting us free. But before we had been rescued, the prince had spent some time taunting me with his intent to keep me for himself, taunting Aldric that he would soon be without his true mate, while inflicting pain on both of us as we were bound to steaks on the edge of the encampment.

  Aviel was fascinated with me, and I used it to our advantage, gaining time to manipulate his brothers into letting go of bits of information on the plan to sink the White Ship. The captivity had been painful but productive.

  Unfortunately, we could not escape Enair’s clutches fast enough to get us to the Port on time. So, responding to the urgency in my mate’s voice, I quickly laid the insides of my wrists together and my tiger appeared, as an image on my wrist, and to stand in front of us as a man in a swirling mist of grey.

  Now my soul bonded magus, a holy man trained to aid me in my destiny, Zigan Meshara, was patiently awaiting my request. His calm dark eyes appraised us, his beautiful markings glowing gold against his dark skin.

  “Thank you, Zigan, for answering my call. Aldric and I have discovered that Enair is attempting to sink the ship carrying the king’s son. Can you get us on board?” I pointed to the sails that were disappearing north along the coast nearly to the point at Gatteville.

  When I had learned that the king’s seventeen-year-old son, William Adelin, desired to sail on this elegant vessel while his father sailed ahead of him, and that Aviel had set his sights on it, I had considered the hazards.

  The ship had a good reputation and so did its captain, Thomas FitzStephen, whose father had taken the prince’s grandfather, William the Conqueror, across the same sea.

  The only risk I could see was sailing past Gatteville, where hidden rocks like the Quilleboeuf lay waiting for careless sailors. But FitzStephen surely was used to navigating such hazards.

  Zigan said, “I can get you both on board, but I may need to regain my strength for a return trip. It will require a lot of energy to haze you both there and back. Are you prepared for the risks?”

  Aldric said, “Let me go in your stead Cynthia. The risk seems too great. If the ship were to sink and Zigan cannot return us both…” He let that thought trail off as he looked at me in that fierce way that melted my heart.

  The powerful love I had for this man, this larger-than-life Norman-born warrior who shared the spirit of a mighty bear, still overwhelmed me. Five years together and our love only grew stronger, our souls more intertwined each day.

  “I must be the one on that ship Aldric. It is my destiny.”

  Making a good point he said, “But you would stand out and be prevented from completing the task, whereas I would blend in and can quickly discern the situation. Zigan and I will return to you as swiftly as possible. We must go now. There is no more time, as they approach the rocks.”

  My hands cupped his face so I could peer into his deep brown eyes, noting that his bear was also gazing out at me from within, a magnificent beast that Aldric could transform into at will. I kissed my love soundly. Then I stepped back and nodded.

  Zigan wrapped his arms around Aldric to make sure he did not let go as they were transported, and they disappeared. I took shelter on the docks and waited.

  In less than thirty minutes the two of them reappeared and Aldric stepped towards me to tell me that nearly everyone on board had been drinking and betting on a race to beat the king to England, while the ship sailed fast, pushing its limits.

  “Not more than ten minutes after we appeared on deck, the ship hit the Quilleboeuf and foundered.” I gasped in dismay at our failure.

  Aldric and I were reaching for each other as he assured me that he had been able to assist with getting the prince to a lifeboat. But before I could lay hands on my mate, strong arms grabbed me. Anurashin appeared all around us and Aldric roared in rage, lunging for me as dozens of them, swords drawn, engaged him and Zigan.

  I cried out as Zigan was pierced by multiple blades before he could pull his sword from the ether, a final blow taking his head, and I felt an unbearable agony as his soul was wrenched brutally from mine.

  Aldric stepped into a blade, not bothering with the pain, to reach for me.

  I looked at the face of my mate one last time, telling him I loved him, before I disappeared, the last sound, that of a mighty roar of a wounded and broken be
ar.

  1988 AD

  For thousands of years, I have been reborn, to train as a magus and warrior in the secret Order of Hala, and my one-hundred and fifty-year training was now complete, which had brought me to the one with whom I must bind my soul to begin the next phase of my mission with the Order. My name is Zigan Enkara.

  Though rain pounded against the window, the damp smell mingling with the pungent ozone of lightning, which was currently blending its harsh light with the soft glow of the halfmoon, the children seemed peaceful enough in this little sanctuary.

  I approached a crib, and looked down at an infant girl, smiling at the delicate heart-shaped face staring back at me, framed by a halo of dark hair, her arms waving and legs wiggling in reaction to the magic that surrounded us.

  Her four-year old brother slept soundly in his bed against the far wall, oblivious to the magic or the storm. It was good she would have an older sibling to help look after her.

  Touching my forefinger to her tiny left shoulder, I pressed it softly. A halfmoon on top of a four-pointed star and my wind symbol tucked in the crescent formed on her infant skin.

  Her brilliant eyes sparkled as she watched my smiling face, making no sound, as our souls connected. This tiny human would one day play an important role in thwarting the plans of a powerful alien race intent on dominating the Earth.

  “Grow well, and I will see you again soon, my precious one.”

  She was named Selena. I would find her again when she was grown and had found her mate, and our journey would begin.

  Chapter 1

  Selena

  My mug was halfway to my mouth when a man as tall as a tree and whose power commanded attention, walked by looking intently at me, then nodded his head in a greeting.

  Casually, I set my mug on the table and gave him a curious nod in return, as my cheeks heated, pondering for the dozenth time over his strange, cryptic attention. It had gone on much like this for weeks, and it puzzled me because it was the extent of the contact this man allowed, though it was clear he wanted more.