by Walls, Devri
Wings of Arian
Copyright © 2012 by Devri Walls
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.
StoneHouse Ink 2012
www.StoneHouseInk.net
Boise, Idaho 83713
First Paperback Edition 2012
First eBook Edition 2012
Book cover design copyright © 2012 Phatpuppy Art
Published in the United States of America
StoneHouse Ink
Acknowledgements
There are far too many people to thank in this endeavor. To my Father, who read the very first version of Wings of Arian and encouraged me to continue despite its rough state. To my Husband, who had endured more tears, hysterics and frustrations than any man ever should. To Ciera, without whom I can honestly say this would not be happening right now. To all my early readers and cheerleaders: Jen, Lindsay, Amber, Rachel, Caryn, Ashley, Caitlin, you were there when I needed you. And I really needed you.
I would also like to thank Aaron at Stonehouse Ink for taking a chance on me. And Claudia at Phatpuppy Art, for the amazing cover.
I would like to dedicate this book to my amazing husband who has supported me in every crazy thing I have ever tried to chase. I cannot imagine a more supportive amazing person to have by my side. You give me strength beyond my own.
PROLOGUE
BOOK IN HAND, ALERIC headed quickly towards the king’s study, his footsteps echoing down an empty stone hallway. Turning abruptly to the right he pushed open two large doors, giving a passing nod to the guards at each side. Purely ornamental, the guards were a tradition from times long past.
Behind his desk, the king casually leaned back, his crown slightly askew on his graying hair. “What can I help you with Aleric?”
Aleric deliberately, and somewhat dramatically, dropped the book onto the table with a bang. The dust billowed out and around the king’s head from its tattered pages.
The king swatted at the onset amidst a fit of coughing. “Are you trying to kill me?!”
“Of course my king,” Aleric replied dryly with a shrug. “Lucky for me your guards failed to check for dusty old books, carried by murderous old men.”
“Very funny,” he said still swatting at the dust cloud. “Now what is it that you...” His eyes widened as he noticed, through the clearing dust, the symbol on the front of the book. Two wings set on a stand, the one reaching for the other, leaving an empty circle between them.
“I see you recognize the symbol of the Ancients.”
“Of course I recognize it,” the king snapped. “Why did you bring it here?” he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Aleric should have relished this moment, but he couldn’t. Being right didn’t make it better. He cleared his throat. “It is time, the prophecy has come to pass my king. It is coming.”
The king’s eyes began to bulge. “That...” he gripped the arms of his chair tightly as red flushed over his face, “that is not possible.”
Aleric was usually even tempered, but at the moment anger bubbled up within him. “It is of course possible. We have been telling the royal family for hundreds of years that evil would return and yet you have refused to teach the people. We have warned of the dangers and you have ignored us. The prophecy was given, recorded in here.” Aleric tapped forcefully at the book. “And then, hidden in a corner of the library where it could acquire a thousand years of dust.”
The king’s face retained its usual redness that appeared whenever he didn’t like what he was hearing. Looking at the book as if it were a viper about to strike he said, “How do you know that evil is returning?”
Aleric let out a deep breath. “I felt it. It’s what we of the magical community call a thread.”
The king looked at him as he normally did whenever magic was discussed, like Aleric had sprouted a second head.
“This world is inhabited by many creatures both magical and non magical, all with threads. It is the essence of our life force. These threads” Aleric explained, clasping his hands behind his back, “weave themselves together in a beautiful tapestry. Each thread shines with different intensities; each is unique to its master. A thousand years ago, after the battle and before Arian made his prophecy, the dark threads that had been woven in were finally silenced.” Aleric frowned. “But this morning, one wove itself back in.”
The king relaxed back into his chair, crossing his arms calmly in front of him. “Just one? Is that all this is about Aleric?” He shook his head with a half grin. “One is easily contained, don’t you think?”
“No, this was not any thread, your Majesty. This was the thread.” He could still feel it, like a black snake weaving itself in and out of the other threads, marring the tapestry he knew so well. “The power was… impressive. I have no doubt it was Dralazar. He will call his people to him, and then everything you have tried to hide from this people will be marching through the village square,” Aleric gestured out the window, “including magic.”
Shoulders tight, the king breathed heavily through his nose. “What does the prophecy say? How are we to defeat this ‘Dralazar’?”
“There is one who will be called to fight just as one was called in all past battles; the prophecy refers to them as the Solus. This Solus is monumentally important,” Aleric stressed. “The prophesy states that if evil is defeated it will be the final battle. I need to find and train this Solus.”
“Who is it?”
“I have no idea!” Aleric wasn’t sure if it was the situation that was infuriating or the king’s complete lack of knowledge on a subject that he had willfully chosen to withhold from the people. “I have to find them first and then they will need to be trained on everything! They will not know evil, or magic, or anything that goes along with either of those because you have forbidden it!” He clasped his hands behind his back again to prevent an accusing finger from flying forward.
“Watch your tone!” the king warned, leaning in. “Generations have passed away living in nothing but peace and harmony with each other, not ever knowing evil. Thousands have benefited from this choice.”
“Yes, I am very familiar with the Kings of Meros’ opinion on the matter. And as I have consistently argued, you cannot control how that choice will affect future generations.” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking deep breathes. “How many of them will pay for the simplicity of life the others enjoyed?” He continued, “This people… they are trusting, they believe anything you tell them. What is going to happen as evil starts to infiltrate and tell lies? What will happen as it tries to turn neighbor against neighbor? And they will,” he emphasized, “I have seen it.” Aleric stepped closer to the king’s desk. “Don’t you see? Evil stayed gone this long to lull them into a state of ignorance ripe for the picking! And now, how many generations will fall under evil’s control because of the ignorance of their parents?”
The king’s face had grown red again under Aleric’s rant. “There is nothing that can change what has been done, we will find the Solus and train him, and he will defeat Dralazar just as Arian did a thousand years ago.”
“Are you trying to convince me of that, or yourself?” Aleric walked over to the window that looked out into the village shaking his head. “It is not going to be that easy.”
“You will train them and they will do what
they have always done, defend the people,” the king said with a nod, clasping his hands together in front of him.
Aleric leaned on the windowsill, his white hair falling forward as he took a deep breath. “How can we expect them to do as they have always done, when nothing is as it has always been? Look at them your majesty, they are like children.” He waved out the window with exasperation.
The village teemed with people moving from the bakers to the farmers market and everywhere in between. Running in every direction, children waved colored ribbons in celebration of summer. There were no unkind words or worrisome glances from parents wondering if their children were safe. No concerns over whether they had received proper change or not. No, they were a people, happy in blissful ignorance. It was a beautiful, unnatural sight.
The king was silent, his knuckles white. “We cannot go back,” he finally repeated. Flexing his fingers, he added, “There is no purpose in lamenting our situation. How will you find this Solus?”
Aleric walked back over to the table and pointed to the picture on the front cover. “The Wings will tell me who it is. They are located in the Forest of the Ancients. If— “ he stopped, pushing his lips into a thin line, “If, I can convince this Solus to accept the calling, we will return to the castle and begin the training.”
The king jerked forward, “Why the castle?”
Aleric turned away from the king, taking a deep breath. “I have to start somewhere. Dragging them into the forest to see Guardians, pegasus and magical golden wings seems a bit abrupt.” His sarcasm was biting. He knew the king’s patience was waning thin, but so was his. “I will keep them here for a few days, long enough for them to begin to grasp the idea of doing magic. After that I will have to take them to the Guardians, and then, the Wings.”
The King peered suspiciously at the cover of the book, “What good will the Wings do?” “The Wings show the past, present, and occasionally, the future.” Aleric walked back over to the window, leaning again on the sill, staring at the innocence beyond. “Trying to explain evil will be like me trying to explain black to someone who has only ever seen white. The true density of it would be incomprehensible. The Solus will need to see it, all of it…” Aleric shuddered, “…every vile thing that has ever been committed by man under evil’s name. One cannot fight what one does not understand.”
Chapter One
The Wings
IN A CLEARING SURROUNDED on every side by the encroaching forest, the smell of pine on the air, Kiora stood before two of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Two golden wings stood sparkling in the sunlight, so large they were humbling.
“They’re so big.” Kiora said craning her neck upwards. Each wing must have reached some thirty feet in the air, arching around, reaching for the other. They were separated at the top by just inches, leaving a sense of longing, one wing for the other.
“Yes.” Aleric said. He had been very quiet since Eleana had announced it was time to visit the Wings.
Turning her attention back to the structure before her, Kiora ran her fingers over the fine craftsmanship, each feather on this masterpiece was unique, slightly varying from the next. The space between the two wings sparkled and shimmered like a mountain lake. Her dark hair and green eyes rippled with it, dancing as if her reflection was secretly amused about something she didn’t understand. She smiled back at it. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes feeling the sun on her face and the cool breeze as it tickled her skin. It had been so long since she had felt free, without the watchful eye of her sister.
And then Eleana approached, her copper hair flowing down her back.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“The magic is so strong. I can feel it pouring through me.” Kiora whispered, her fingers still lingering on the feathers.
“It is.” Eleana gently set her hand on her back. “Perhaps you should sit down.”
Kiora turned back to the three chairs Eleana had called out of the ground, her fingers reluctantly dropping back to her side. The chairs were a mess of twisted roots and grass bent to Eleana’s will, beautiful furniture set neatly in the middle of the clearing and facing the wings. Aleric sat smiling with a smile that did not reach his eyes. Kiora frowned, it was strange. Aleric’s eyes usually twinkled when he smiled. It was one of her favorite things about him.
Suddenly nervous, she said, “I still am not sure that I understand why we are here.” She searched Aleric’s face for clues as she sat down, gripping the twisted roots that served as arms for their chairs.
“Since evil does not exist in the world you know, we must show it to you.” Eleana explained again. “The wings can show us the past.” Reaching out she touched them, instantly the void between the wings snapped into solidity with a thunderous crack. Kiora jumped. Pictures of the past began to roll in front of her, more horrible than she could have ever imagined; even more horrible than her old visions. She turned her head away with a gasp as Eleana moved to sit in the last remaining chair.
“Kiora,” Aleric touched her arm, his voice thick with guilt, “Please, you have to watch, it’s necessary. As the Solus, you must understand what it is we are fighting.”
Kiora looked up at him, bewildered. His blue eyes were laden with apologies.
The Solus. Up until now it was just a title. One that had finally enabled her to make some sense of her past. But now, she had seen what Aleric had been hinting at. With great effort, she turned her eyes back.
In a towering picture a man stepped over his wife, screaming, spittle flying over her and the room. With a grunt of anger, he pulled his hand back and slapped her across the face, sending the woman flying. Kiora recoiled in her chair as if she had been slapped. Her mind was reeling, searching for understanding where there was none.
The wings moved on to the next scene, a man stealing into the home of another in the middle of the night.
“What is he doing?” she whispered again glancing back and forth between Aleric and Eleana, who were not watching the scenes before them but watching her instead.
Eleana’s head turned reluctantly back to the pictures, focusing Kiora back on what was playing before her.
Pulling a dagger out of his shirt the man stood over his victim,
Her hands flew to her mouth, “No.” she whimpered looking frantically at Eleana and back to Aleric.
The man plunged the dagger silently into his victim’s heart, swiftly, deftly and without remorse.
Kiora groaned in pain, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
Aleric reached over again touching her arm in reassurance. Blood was seeping out of the dying man’s wound when the picture changed.
“Aleric, I can’t,” she groaned. “I don’t understand.”
“It was the only way,” his voice cracked, “to show you evil, to help you understand.”
She could tell he felt pity for her, but it didn’t stop the pictures. On and on they rolled. Pain racked her body with each terrible event rendered before her. Her stomach lurched, threatening to empty itself, her muscles aching with tension. Lying, stealing, hatred, murder, detailing things that had been no more real to her than the fairy stories she had been told as a child. The happiness she had felt as she trailed her fingers across the wings were now gone. She was drowning in a sea of pain that was so much deeper than she had believed possible. How could something so beautiful show such evil?
The wings moved on, a small child was being sold into slavery. Men moved around him probing his body, examining his teeth as they would an animal. The boy’s terror was palpable to Kiora as though he was next to her. The boy’s new masters soon prepared a brand, searing it into his tiny back.
“No!” Kiora screamed, surging to her feet. “Stop!’
The wings ignored her pleas and the pictures marched on relentlessly before her.
“Kiora please,” Eleana begun reaching for her.
But Kiora didn’t hear the rest. With a whimper of panic she turned, and ran.
She could hear Aleric and Eleana shouting for her, she didn’t care. All she cared about was escaping. Soon their voices vanished, then their threads vanished, and all that was left was the wind whistling past her ears.
***
Kiora ran further and further into the forest. The branches reached out in an attempt to stop her, ripping at her clothes and hair. She tripped, stumbling over fallen tree limbs and rocks as she ran. Her pants were ripped and her knees were probably bleeding, but she didn’t care. Sobbing, she pushed through the branches, her throat and lungs burning with the combined effort.
In her naivety, she hoped that escaping the meadow would mean escaping the pain, but no matter how far she ran the pain would not stop. The screams and cries of those she had seen rang in her ears, and the memory of it ran with her, side by side, holding her completely and utterly hostage.
Lurching to a halt she finally she gave in with a scream, collapsing on the ground, sides heaving with exhaustion and pain. She sobbed into the forest floor, pounding her fists into the ground until they ached. With a groan, she finally wilted, allowing the numbness to grab hold.
Limp, she lay there on the ground with pine needles and rocks digging into her face and hands; wishing silently to reach into her mind, pry the images from her brain, to wipe her memory. The thought almost made her laugh. That was the problem with memories; they were impervious to any attempts to erase them. No, memories nag at you, never allowing you to forget. She had learned that lesson well.
A new hopelessness drug itself over her like an unwanted blanket. What she had just seen would be with her, always. She had never known of her own innocence, but it had just been stripped, taken, and she was acutely aware of its absence.
The next day dawned and Kiora was pulled out of nightmare-filled sleep to singing birds. She blinked a few times before remembering where she was, she hadn’t remembered falling asleep. Groaning she rolled over, aware of a throbbing in her face and hands. She brushed at the pine needles and rocks she had ignored yesterday that were now firmly embedded in her skin from the long night on the ground. Once the offending objects were removed she recognized the tiny thread slipping through her heart. This one was magical, good, and belonged to a Guardian. The Guardian’s threads vibrated faster than anyone else’s she had come across.