by Elle Wolcott
The Awakening
DRAGONBORN
~Book One~
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be used in any manner (digital, print, etc.) without the written consent of the author.
Each character and each event within this book are entirely fictitious. Any likeness to a real person, whether alive or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.
Text ownership belongs solely to the author.
Elle Wolcott
Cover design by Ira-Rebeca
Wild Woods Press
November 10, 2020
Dragonborn, The Awakening
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Author’s Note
Chapter One
“Where’s my sweater?” I rummaged through my dresser, tugging all the pieces out and onto the floor. “Charlotte!”
I knew she had taken it. She thought she looked better in green than me.
“What do you need a sweater for, anyway?” she rolled her eyes as she passed by my room. “It’s like, seventy degrees out there.”
“Some people get chilly in seventy-degree weather, Char. Besides, it’s a thin cardigan, anyway,” I followed her to her room. “Come on, he’s going to be here in ten minutes.”
She plopped onto her bed and started scrolling through her phone. Without looking up, she said, “By the window.”
“You could have at least put it on the bench,” I reached over and grabbed the sweater from the floor.
“You’re welcome,” she sassed as I left.
I hurried back to my room to check out how I looked in my jeans and pale-yellow blouse. The sweater was just perfect, matching the little green dots on the silky blouse. I slipped on my flats and put a smudge of lip gloss on my bottom lip. Rubbing my lips together, I grabbed my shoulder bag and ran down the stairs.
“Plans tonight?” my Aunt Cressa teased. She knew exactly what I was doing, and she might have been just as excited as me.
“He’s going to be here any minute,” I said as I peeked out the window. The sun had just went down past the horizon and the entire bay area looked blue. It was springtime—the last Saturday in April. For some reason, it had been a humid start to spring, but that just meant juicier tomatoes later in the year. Or, at least that was what my aunt would say.
“Your mother would be so proud,” Aunt Cressa leaned on the bookshelf and smiled. She reminded me of my mother a lot; they had the same little nose.
“Thanks,” I smiled.
“Did you do your blessings?” she asked.
“Ooh, no,” I made a face. “I’m sure everything’ll be fine.”
My aunt dropped her smile.
“Not everything needs magic,” I tried to reason, but she was sighing. I let the air out of my lungs. I didn’t want to have this conversation right now—not that night—but there it was. I turned eighteen months ago; I wasn’t coming into my powers anymore. They just weren’t there. “I’m not like her, and I’m not like you.”
“Irene,” she started, but I kept talking.
“I’m not an enchantress. I don’t understand the writings in the books, I can’t make things dance in the air. I’m just a human.”
“Your blood is different from other people,” she said to me. “I know you can feel it.”
I shook my head.
“Anything can be true if you believe long enough,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s true for everyone else.”
“Oh, if only she were here,” my aunt mumbled to herself.
“But she isn’t.”
Outside, there was a car pulling into the drive, and it drew my attention from the current conversation.
“Don’t let it bother you,” I smiled to my aunt. “Some things are meant to be just how they are.”
“Well, you’re certainly her daughter, I’ll say that much,” she raised a brow. “But there’s more to you.”
“Really, Aunt Cressa,” I tightened my grip on my bag and readied to grab the door handle. “My dad wasn’t an enchanter, right?” She mumbled a lengthy no beneath her breath. “Then I’m probably like him.”
“More than you know.”
“Irene,” Lydia came in through the front door just as I pulled the thing open. With a soft look in her eyes, she handed me a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Just read it,” she said.
“Where’s your brother?” I asked her. It was no secret that I was looking forward to our first date.
“He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Read the note,” she repeated.
I took a deep breath, then I went and sat on the couch and read his words.
Irene, please don’t be angry. I have to leave home for a while, and I honestly don’t know when I’ll come back. I know I have no right to ask you, but please, wear the necklace I gave to Lydia. It’ll protect you until I return.
I crumpled the paper and left it on the cushion, then got right up.
“Irene?” my aunt stopped me with her concerning, kind voice just before I went out the door. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to clear my mind,” I told her. Looking to Lydia, I said, “Thanks for coming over.”
“Here,” she handed me the necklace she had been holding in her hands the whole time. “It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it.”
“But he said—”
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I don’t need to be protected. I just need him.”
I went outside and stood on the porch and took a deep breath of the evening air. I felt stupid for spending so much time on my outfit. I’m not the kind of girl to dwell over my looks too much, but I wanted to be pretty. I felt pretty. At least for a little while.
I shouldn’t have been so surprised, really. Cole had been traveling a lot lately, visiting places overseas and meeting with people he said were interested in his family’s investments. His dad wanted him to run the office in Willoughby Bay, but even Christian Clark was rarely ever home. And with their mother Audrey keeping social engagements, it was just Lydia and Cole most of the time.
“Irene,” Lydia joined me outside. “I left the necklace inside. I’ll let you know if he calls.”
“That’s okay,” I wrapped my arms around me with a chill. “I don’t care.”
Lydia nodded and went to her car. “I’ll call you later,” she said.
I gave a nod, then I waved as she drove away.
I stood there for a few more minutes, then I went back inside. My aunt was in the kitchen flipping through one of her spell books, and I plopped onto the couch and turned on the television.
“Irene,” she called to me. “You need to come see this.”
I huffed. The last thing I wanted to do was invest the little energy I had left on something that had anything to do with magic. I mean, Charlotte was starting to recite the Galdorvore—the magical book of spells that was handed down from our ancestors—like it was first grade English. She was understanding the symbols, writing them on the co
rners of her homework. Even our older brother Dylan was able to conjure water into any shape he wanted. Honestly, I was starting to believe I was adopted.
“What?” I hunched over at the table, waiting for my aunt to explain whatever idea she had just set her mind to.
“Look, this is the stone,” she said to me. “I knew I had seen it before.”
I sat down and studied the drawing in her compendium. The stone that Lydia had brought over resembled the one in the sketch, but there were things that didn’t add up. The coloring was off, the size compared to the string it was tied to was disproportionate, and it seemed to be missing a little chunk. The whole thing just looked like the wrong stone.
“I don’t think it’s the same one,” I shook my head.
My aunt flipped through the pages to find more information, but by her grunting, I was sure she wasn’t getting her answers.
“It’s an opal… I think,” she said.
“I’m going to go for ice cream,” I got up. As I stood, though, my aunt grabbed my wrist and held me still. “I was going to offer you some,” I joked, but her eyes told me how serious she was.
“Wear it.”
I laughed.
“Irene, you must.”
“Why?”
“I can feel it pulling toward you. It wants to be near you,” she spoke. When she looked to my eyes, it was like she was looking through me. Like she was having a vision.
“Okay,” I nodded.
“Always,” she finished, loosening her grip.
Chapter Two
I had a terrible nightmare. In it, my father was reading from an old storybook, and the room was full of shadows. My brother and I were little, and Charlotte was just a baby in our mother’s arms. I guess, in a way, it was like a memory. But the beast in the darkness wasn’t ever there before.
Sitting in bed with my eyes clouded, the thought of Cole entered my mind almost within the second. Cole. I hadn’t seen him all summer. He went to Europe, went away. Only a letter from now and then to Lydia, never a call, never an attempt to speak to me. I huffed, and my bangs waved in my view.
My bedroom was mostly dark, but the curtains were open enough to let in the moonlight. It was nearly a full moon, nearly bright enough to see each leaf among the vines that encased my home. I could look over the bay from my bedroom window. The city was alive at all hours. It often kept me dreaming of what life is like in lands far away.
I got up, stretched, shook out my arms, but Cole’s impending return wouldn’t leave my thoughts. Sixteen hours and nineteen minutes, his flight was inevitable. I wanted to be angry with him, everyone thought I was anyway. I had been so thrilled to go on that date with him, and all I got was a stupid necklace.
Lydia was my closest friend. We went to school together, spent the weekends together. And, of course, I fell for her older brother. I don’t know what it was, but I was always drawn to him. Like a moth to a flame.
I sighed, threw on my sweater and socks, and then stepped quietly out into the hall. Past Charlotte’s room, I was careful to avoid the fourth stair from the top. For some reason, it only creaked in the middle of the night. It wasn’t like I had to ask permission to leave the house. I was an adult, and better yet, my aunt was a liberal guardian. Still, I wasn’t in the mood for questions. I unlocked the front door, grabbed my shoulder bag, and stepped outside.
The sky, full and dark, twinkled with a thousand stars. I took in the chilling air and held it in my lungs for a few seconds before watching it billow out. I reassured myself—even if it was brief—that seeing him again was a new beginning. I didn’t need to be nervous; he and I had always been friends. Just because we were about to start dating, and just because he left without telling me himself, didn’t mean I needed to panic. My body didn’t get the memo.
But really. He couldn’t have said something to me? I know it was stupid, that I was probably holding onto the moment, but if I mattered to him at all, why didn’t he show me the respect of coming to my door himself? It was almost like he was in a hurry to leave.
The engine of my ’93 Mustang, often waking the dogs at the end of the road, never seemed to affect my sister. My aunt was probably up and peeking out the window at me as I backed out. Dylan was a light sleeper, too. I remember leaving the house in the middle of the night when I was fifteen. I don’t remember why, but I was crying and didn’t want to be around anyone. He ran after me, catching me within seconds. Magical people are annoying sometimes. Especially when you feel like the only human around.
Backing out, I peeked around the trees and saw nothing on the road. I put the car in drive and flipped on the headlights. Holding the thin, worn steering wheel, I drove down the winding road.
Trees lined the path overhead. Some leaves were still green, but a lot were yellow and orange. A soft mist coated the edges of the road up ahead, like a fog that I never seemed to breach. Something hidden, something deep in the trees, seemed to be watching me. At least that’s how it felt.
I shrugged at the fog and blinked away my thoughts. Coming to the bottom of the enormous hill, I yawned and thought about going back home. Behind me sat the rolling hills that gave my hometown its name. Hallow Hills, small by population, the town was wide and covered acres of wildlife. Most of the homes were cute inviting places with stonework and flower gardens. The glowing streetlights throughout the hills made the sky a little brighter, and a little more comforting.
And ahead of me sat… well, I don’t know. It’s not like I was seeking something in particular, but there I sat, daydreaming and wondering and second-guessing myself again. Come on! Do something for once.
I always wanted to be a great adventurer heroine like the women in my favorite books. Traveling the world, saving the day, having strength unmatched. To be honest, I read more fiction than I should have. My aunt was always lecturing me about the grimoires and the magic books. The books about genuine magic stories. The ones that lined the tables at the bookstore in troves. I barely picked them up anymore. When Charlotte found her power back after mom died, I lost hope.
I think my mother loved this town more than her bookstore. She had no problem talking to people, helping them find the things they were seeking. She even cast a few spells for some of her closest customers. I remember one woman who couldn’t conceive a child. She and her husband tried everything they could for two years. My mother made the woman a special tea, and the next month she was pregnant.
Growing up, these were the spells I knew. Each one involved the elements, herbs, stones, usually a certain moon cycle. And, of course, a lot of chanting. Charlotte would tell me it’s like praying while uniting with the materials you’ve chosen. She explained it as using her energy to bind her wishes to the items. Thus, a spell is born.
I’ve never been able to cast a spell. Charlotte has performed a few of them, but I know she’s excited to get her hands dirty, so to speak. She can’t wait to reach her full potential. But that’s the tricky thing about magic, it comes when it knows you’re ready. Not at any certain time. And definitely not if you try to force it.
My sister had always known what she wanted. She wasn’t uncertain of herself or the things she was working toward. Me, on the other hand… I didn’t really know what I wanted. I guess I was just waiting for something to happen. It might have been foolish, but I was pretty happy with working at the bookstore and spending my weekends with my friends. I wasn’t eager for something big to happen, not anymore.
Sitting at the stop sign at the base of the hill, I thought about why I left home. I was running from my nightmare, from seeing Cole again, from all the magic that was letting me down. The only positive thing I could think about was the bookstore. Whenever I felt lost or uncertain, I could always count on it. I could spend days there, breathing in the binding and old parchment, staring over the trinkets and herbs and oils. It’s always been my home away from home, but I couldn’t go there just then.
I went down the road and turned into the parking lot to the groce
ry store, then I headed back toward home.
The fog had gotten thicker, blanketing the road entirely. That same feeling of being watched came over me, and so I slowed down to examine the woods better. I rolled down my window and peeked out. The cool air fell over my neck and made me shiver. The woods weren’t big enough to be a forest, but they were thick enough not to see through. In autumn, the fallen leaves and bare branches gave the wooded area a chilling feel. Feathers ruffled overhead, and a piercing squawk hit my ears and scared me enough to stop the car.
I put the car in park and rubbed my face, and when I looked out the window again, the fog had closed in on me. I couldn’t see anymore than a foot past the edge of the car. I unfastened my belt, turned off the car, then got out to look. Thankfully, I grew up on this road and so I knew it like the back of my hand. I was just a minute or so away from Mr. Siebert’s house, and in the other direction sat the McClure’s. Still, I didn’t feel entirely at ease, to say the least.
I got up on my toes, as if I could see over the fog, and then huffed. I should be at home sleeping. I grabbed the door and climbed back inside and then heard a rustling in the leaves across the street. I sat still for a second, listening for more sounds, but the air was silent now. Gripping the door, my ears caught the rustling once again, and it was safe to say it piqued my curiosity.
“Hello?”
Something flew around above me, and I leaned into the car and ducked. It came so close, whipping the wind over my hair and giving me the chills. When I was sure it wasn’t near, I got out and looked around, but the creature disappeared into the dark sky before I could make out what it was.
Standing there in the quiet, I felt like the woods were closing in on me. Like everything—the air, the sky, the mist—was moving closer and closer to me and me alone. I couldn’t see anything in front of me anymore; even my car was fading behind the wall of white mist. I reached out to grab the car door but could feel nothing, and it starting to seem like I had wandered away from where I had parked.
The fear of it all came on fast, and in seconds I was trying to talk myself out of yelling for help. Instead, I shook out my hands and centered my thoughts, and I tried to ground myself like my mother had taught me as a child. I slid off my sandals and put my bare feet to the ground, and the cool earth pulled me down. Well, it pulled my anxiety straight out and helped me think clearly, anyway. I took a deep breath and then opened my eyes.