Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon)

by Appleton, Scott

  Praise for Offspring:

  “I was swept away by Scott Appleton’s engaging tale. He has achieved the rare feat of creating strong, unique characters who follow their own path instead of trying to recreate old legends. Many books claim to be ‘in the tradition of Lewis and Tolkien,’ but Appleton has earned that distinction by blazing his own path in modern fantasy. I look forward to more books by this original author.”

  —Julie Dick (age 19 from Wisconsin)

  “I was overjoyed to be given the opportunity of reading Swords of the Six in pre-release. Then I read Offspring electronically and tore through it just as fast if not faster than any other compelling book I’ve read. I was completely engrossed in all aspects of the story, from Oganna’s young childhood on up to the tough trials she has to face. Of the whole book, one thing I couldn’t get enough of, the Megatraths! So intuitive and natural. Scott Appleton is fantastic in his storyworld blending and his aptitude to create trends, not follow them. Offspring is chock full of awesome storytelling completely free of typical fantasy cliches. I followed the book breathless to the end when it. … oh man. I can’t ruin it for you all. I have one caution for readers… do NOT pick up this book if you intend on getting anything done in the next 12 hours. It’s dangerous.”

  —Leighton Hajicek (Missouri)

  “As the next book in the series started by Swords of the Six, Offspring, by Scott Appleton, delivers another action-filled story. Containing huge battles, lonely vigils, incredibly imaginative creatures, and the forces of light and darkness clashing in a tangible way, Offspring is a welcome addition to the fantasy genre.”

  —Sam Jenne (age 17 from Oregon)

  “Scott Appleton truly writes from the heart. The story he has created is wonderfully magnificent. The beautiful spiritual themes woven throughout blessed me. I cried with the characters and rejoiced with them and felt like I was there with them every step of their journey. Forewarning: this story is not a story for the faint of heart, but is a story of the heart.”

  —Ryan Paige Howard (California)

  “What drew me into Offspring is how it’s not at all like our world in appearance, but in an allegorical sense it is like our world in every way. Few authors can write like Scott Appleton. … This book took me into the world of Offspring and I finished it in just one weekend. It has some of everything: adventure, humor, suspense, and a little bit of romance.”

  —Josh Ryner (age 12)

  “Appleton weaves an exciting story with an imaginative world, unforgettable characters, and a suspenseful plot. I found myself lost in the story and did not want to put it down. A definite keeper and a solid follow-up to Swords of the Six!”

  —Joseph Ely (age 15 from North Carolina)

  “Oddly, the only fantasy books I really seem to find in bookstores are the Narnia books by C. S. Lewis. If you’re over the age of 17, and are looking for a more mature Christian fantasy novel, then check out Scott Appleton. The characters in Offspring are deep. … it was as if the author actually interviewed his characters as he was writing the novel; kind of reminded me of old friends sitting next to you and telling you their story. The plot of this novel is a lot more intricate than the first novel. The story is bigger and more epic in scope—a hybrid style between the action-packed cinematic writing of R. A. Salvatore, and the morality of J. R. R. Tolkien. Perfect for sitting in the living room after a hard day at work. The story may be Christian, but it would appeal to anyone who loves a great fantasy book well told.

  —Jake Scholl (age 19 from Idaho)

  “Scott Appleton tells stories like no other. And Offspring is a tale of wonder that will keep readers daydreaming about its imaginative characters, creatures, storyworld, and mystery long after they close the book.”

  —Jill Williamson, Christy Award-winning author of By Darkness Hid

  Offspring

  Volume 2 in The Sword of the Dragon® series

  Copyright © 2011 by Scott Appleton

  Published by Living Ink Books, an imprint of

  AMG Publishers, Inc.

  6815 Shallowford Rd.

  Chattanooga, Tennessee 37421

  All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in printed reviews, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (printed, written, photocopied, visual electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the publisher.

  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 persons, either living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  First Printing—September 2011

  THE SWORD OF THE DRAGON is a trademark of AMG Publishers.

  Map Illustration by Nichole White

  Cover illustration by Kerim Beyit

  Cover layout and design by Daryle Beam at BrightBoy Design, Inc., Chattanooga, TN

  Interior design and typesetting by Kristin Goble at PerfecType, Nashville, TN

  Edited by Rebecca L. Miller, Christy Graeber, Jennifer Salveggio, Bonnie Appleton and Rick Steele

  Look for Key of Living Fire—the next book in

  The Sword of the Dragon series, releasing spring 2012

  Printed in the United States of America

  16 15 14 13 12 11 –B– 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Kelley,

  The star in my life

  Who fell from the sky to

  Perfectly complete me

  CONTENTS

  Pronunciation Guide

  Prelude: The Angel’s Promise

  One: Guardian of the Dragon’s Offspring

  Two: Rise of the Lord Warrior

  Three: Demise of the Serpent King

  Four: An Epoch’s Beginnings

  Five: Swords of Light

  Six: The Ghost of Mathaliah Hollow

  Seven: Lord and Princess

  Eight: A Sword Called Avenger

  Nine: Incursions

  Ten: Token of a Promise

  Eleven: Advent of the Megatraths

  Twelve: Redeeming the Fallen

  Thirteen: Tomb of the Ancients

  Fourteen: Part Dragon

  Fifteen: Allies

  Sixteen: Love’s Watchful Halo

  Seventeen: When a Good Man Falls

  Eighteen: A Presence of Evil

  Nineteen: Renewed Man

  Twenty: Netroth, City of the Giants

  Twenty-One: The Tolling Bell

  Twenty-Two: Wrath of the Megatrath

  Twenty-Three: Battle for Ar’lenon

  Twenty-Four: The Ultimate Sacrifice

  Twenty-Five: A Just Recompense

  Twenty-Six: The End of Sorrow

  Acknowledgments

  PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

  Ar’lenon: ar—leh—non

  Burloi: bur—loy

  Crysallis: cri—sal—is

  Gabel: gabe—el

  Garfunk: gar—funk

  Gwensin: gwen—sin

  Hersis: her—sis

  Linsair: lin—sayer

  Mazmodel: maz—mo—dull

  Megatrath: meg—a—trath

  Netroth: neh—troth

  Nostravium:

  nah—stra—vee—um

  Osira: oh—sigh—ruh

  Poonie: pooh—nee

  Razes: raze—ez

  Resgeria: rez—geer—ee—uh

  Vectra: vek—truh

  Veil: vale

  Vortain: vor—tane

  Yimshi: yim—she

  PRELUDE: THE ANGEL’S PROMISE

  After Prince Brian fell to the traitors, the dragon prophet arrived on the battlefield … too
late.

  The white dragon’s teeth knifed into Clavius’s body as it raised him high off the ground, breaking him in half. The traitor’s sword clattered to the ground as the dragon’s claws raked the earth, breaking stones as he faced the next traitor: Letrias.

  Auron stood nearby, unable to move; his mind begged him to escape while the moment allowed, but his body refused. The dragon’s lips parted, dripping the blood of Auron’s former accomplice onto the stones. Flames roiled in the dragon’s half-open mouth, and Letrias’s eyes widened with fear.

  Letrias dropped his sword and spread his hands. Energy sizzled along his palms. His lips trembled. “You are not all-powerful, Albino. Hermenuedis is more than a match for you … and he has taught me”—bluish light amassed between Letrias’s fists—“how to wield mighty power!”

  The energy shot from Letrias’s hands in the form of bolts that sped toward the dragon’s chest. But the energy passed through the scaled creature’s body as if it was not really there, as if it had no physical presence.

  Dark clouds rolled overhead, joining each other until the sunlight faded.

  Albino the dragon spoke. “I will waste no more breath on you.” He drew back his head and fire streamed from his mouth.

  A cloud spiraled to the ground and a dark humanoid entity passed from the heavens to the earth, landing betwixt Albino and Letrias. He crouched for a moment, then straightened like a bird prepared to take flight. The wind played along the Art’en creature’s back, ruffling the feathers of its voluminous, furled wings. Auron swallowed, recognizing the wizard Hermenuedis.

  The Art’en held out a black sphere that absorbed Albino’s flames, swelling to the size of a boulder.

  The white dragon’s hard gaze riveted on the wizard, and Hermenuedis flapped his wings as the flaming barrage slid him backwards. The dragon took a step toward the Art’en.

  The Art’en wizard would lose this battle … and the white dragon would come after him next. Auron turned and ran. His sword grew heavy in his hand and he dropped it like a lead weight.

  The dragon roared and the ground quaked. As Auron fell, he glanced back.

  Albino rose in terrible majesty and flung a black dragon down the slope, its dark body digging a rift in the hard earth. So, Valorian had joined the battle.

  Auron stumbled to his feet and raced eastward. For five days he fled. The sky remained cloudy, and rain pummeled him night and day. Eventually he found shelter on the forested slopes of a mountain. That night he fell into an exhausted sleep. But something cold pressed against his throat. He opened his eyes. The tip of a stone dagger played at his throat.

  A familiar face stared at him over the blade. The clouds must have thinned, for moonlight fell through the trees. “Letrias? You’re alive! How did you survive?”

  Letrias clamped a hand over Auron’s mouth and withdrew the crude weapon.

  “Silence, Fool!” Letrias’s gaze darted about the trees. “Someone has been following me.”

  At that moment a fair-skinned man with blond hair stepped from behind a tree. Letrias bounded to his feet, prepared to run. The man raised a hand and said, “Stay in thy place. I know who thou art, Letrias. And I know thy companion Auron.”

  “I don’t know how you found me, but I’m warning you—” Letrias eyes widened, and Auron’s own body froze in place. There was nowhere he could look except at the stranger.

  The man’s body glowed with holy light. It hurt to look at him. The heavenly being’s eyes blazed like small suns from his glorious face. Spotless white robes covered the man from head to toe, and his hair radiated light as golden as Yimshi’s rays.

  “God, the one and only ruler of the universe, has seen thy wickedness and the innocent blood you shed. Thy deeds will be returned upon thy heads. This night He has sent me to deliver a message and a curse, for in turning from his holy law you have brought His wrath upon yourselves.

  “Thus says the Lord: ‘I tarry for the redemption of the wicked, I plead for their souls. They shall not find rest—for wrath abides upon them. Age shall not change their bodies; they shall see the years pass and remember their sins until they repent or fall upon the sword of the righteous. I am the Lord. I Am forever.’”

  The angel vanished. Letrias ran into the forest.

  Trembling, Auron stepped to a tree and leaned his forehead against the rough bark. He should have listened to Albino and followed after righteousness; now he had fallen beyond redemption. Killing the prince should have secured for him a place at the side of the all-powerful Hermeneudis. But, if what he’d last seen of that wizard’s battle with Albino was any indicator, the wizard would be fortunate to escape with his life. He scraped his skin along the bark, warm blood dripping down his face. He should have stayed on the side of the prophets.

  A hundred years passed. In his heart it felt longer. Believing himself to be beyond redemption, he let the power of guilt solidify his rebellion against God and harden his conscience.

  At the end of the hundred years he set out, eastward, to find the last remaining wizard, that pupil of Hermenuedis: Letrias.

  “Letrias, a stranger has come to the valley.” The stump of a man cowered before his master and bit his thumbnail.

  Letrias regarded the man in silence. His slender figure would have deceived any stranger into believing him weak, but in his hand he held a metal staff. At its head the dark metal separated into several bands that wrapped about a small orb. He clanked the staff on the floor and calmly eyed the penitent figure. “Do not let your lips quiver, Mazmodel. Tell me what you know.”

  “Forgive me, mighty one … I”—the little man bit his other thumbnail and kept his gaze to the floor—“the stranger reported he knew you—a long time ago.”

  Letrias looked over Mazmodel to the massive chamber doors, then stepped down to the man’s level. “Place your hands on the stone.”

  Trembling, the little man positioned himself on all four limbs with fingers splayed.

  Letrias walked forward and landed his booted foot on Mazmodel’s hand. The man cried out, but Letrias stepped past him, not even glancing down. “Ah, Mazmodel.” Letrias laughed. “You must always be ready to give me a quick answer. Otherwise, if your usefulness is at an end, I will have no choice but to remove you from my protection—and your daughter as well.

  “Now, tell me, who has come to my valley.”

  “He said his name is Auron.” The little man’s lips trembled. He spat on the floor as if to ease tension.

  Letrias lifted his staff. It thrummed a deep tone that filled the room, and harsh, unintelligible whispers joined in—an otherworldly, evil sound that bespoke condemnation. Letrias laughed and faced Mazmodel. The evil he had fostered in his soul these thousand plus years had given him what he’d always desired: power.

  Mazmodel’s body rose off the floor until his limbs hung loose in mid-air. His toes dangled two feet off the stone. Tears sprang from the man’s eyes.

  “So, Auron has returned to me.” Letrias smiled while the power of his staff continued to hold his servant a prisoner. Swift-flowing lava spilled from a nearby hole in the rock wall, flowing through a channel carved at the wall’s base to his side. The molten rock curved against the back wall and streamed past him on the other side, forming a perfect U of hot liquid glowing orange-yellow.

  Forcing all his fingers into his mouth, the little man stuttered, “I … I, he … he is … Auron wants—”

  Letrias angled his ear toward the chamber’s twin doors. A familiar presence entered his perception, and a smile creased his face. His leather clothes creaked as he lowered his staff to the floor. “And I had thought he, too, was dead.”

  Letrias let the staff’s power drop the little man to the stone floor. Perspiration rose on the man’s forehead and dripped down his cheeks. He took his fingers out of his mouth and licked his lips. “P … please, Master, I … I … I … you pr … promised”—he choked on his words—“promised me home.”

  A chorus of muffled hissing and uninte
lligible words arose in the shadows behind Letrias. “Home? You were warned against mentioning this in my presence.” Letrias sighed. “Your fate is in my hand, Mazmodel. As is your daughter’s. You are my trophy—though a disappointing one you have proven to be. You are my trophy of war, a constant reminder that piece by piece Subterran is falling into my palm. But your pleas weary me.”

  At that moment the chamber doors lumbered open. Two wizards wielding scythes entered, their bodies garbed in heavy black leather. They stood aside as four broad-shouldered men shuffled inside bearing a man on a litter. Each of the litter-bearers held a wizard’s staff and wore black cloaks.

  Letrias addressed Mazmodel without looking back at him. “If the whole land of Nostravium is filled with idiots such as you, my followers will feast on their corpses.”

  The staff’s head glowed harsh-gray, and energy blasted from it into the little man’s chest. Letrias ambled over to the litter as Mazmodel’s body crumpled to the floor.

  Letrias glanced at the litter and the man that lay on it. Auron’s sand-encrusted face returned his gaze. “At last you have come. Welcome to the Valley of Death!” He frowned. “What has it been, Auron? Only a thousand years? Age has not touched our bodies, nor has time dulled my memory. Xavion is long dead and forgotten, and his master has not appeared, nor have I heard rumor of him in all this time.”