Aerdan: Sci-Fi and Fantasy Romance (Zhekan Mates Book 1)

by E. A. James

  “Of course,” she said quickly. “Apologies. My sincerest apologies.”

  Wind shoved her back against the wall, fiery light exploding in front of her. She choked on her breath as her chest went aflame with panic, eyes watering and stinging. And then everything went dark and quiet.

  Mathsus was gone.

  She blinked hard a few times, a tear crawling down her left cheek as her vision cleared. She couldn’t move—couldn’t think—could barely inhale and exhale over and over again.

  A god…the god of fate…her? Why her? What made her worthy for such an important task?

  Her stunned state vanished instantly, and she jumped before dashing out of her bedroom.

  The guards outside her door jolted. “Young Duchess,” one of them gasped. “What—?”

  “Mathsus,” she said, grabbing the man’s plated shoulder and shaking. “Mathsus. Mathsus—” She shook her head and ran down the hallway, toward her parents’ bedroom. “Mama! Papa! Mathsus!”

  The guards hurried after her, their armor clanking with each step.

  The guards who stood outside her parents’ bedroom doors frowned at Leonie—manic as she must’ve looked—but they didn’t stop her as she burst into the room far bigger than her own. Guided by memories more than sight, she ran through the darkness until her shins bumped into the large bed. “Mama! Mama!” She grabbed her mother’s forearm.

  Her mother jolted and gasped, her hand snapping to Leonie’s fingers. “Wha?”

  Her father jolted next.

  “Leonie?” her mother croaked, her grip on Leonie loosening. “Leonie, what’s wrong?”

  Leonie spluttered out what had just occurred, though she still wasn’t completely sure what had just occurred. A vision? A physical visiting from the god?

  By the time she was finished, both of her parents had sat up in their bed and her six siblings had gathered by the bedroom doors. The guards stood stock still in their positions, though their pinched expressions betrayed their obvious discomfort.

  “That was quite a dream,” her father said, yawning. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his bearded jaw. “I’m glad that even as an adult now, you still dream so fantastically.”

  Her face fell. “It wasn’t a dream!”

  Her mother patted Leonie’s shoulder. “My dear, I’ve had lucid dreams before—some involving the god fate, others involving the goddess of love—and I understand how cathartic the experience can be. I’m afraid you get your vivid perception from me. A blessing and a curse, truly.”

  Leonie’s shoulders sagged, heart sinking.

  Her little sisters giggled and whispered to one another, one of her brothers loudly saying “madness” before laughing.

  Leonie clenched her teeth and spun toward them. “It’s not madness! I know what I saw and heard, and it’s important!”

  Her mother sighed. “Janette,” she said, waving at one of the nannies, who lingered in the hallway, “please take the children back to their rooms. The excitement has come and past.”

  Janette curtsied in her nightgown like it was a lavish dress. “Yes, Duchess.” Then, whispering her commands, she motioned for the other children to move down the hallway.

  Leonie tensed when she heard her siblings laughing harder, the brats.

  “Go back to sleep,” her mother said, squeezing Leonie’s shoulder. “Everything will be clearer when you’re well rested.”

  Her father stretched, yawned again, and then sank beneath the covers. “We’ll all have a good laugh in the morning,” he murmured.

  Leonie’s eyes darted between both parents. “You…you really don’t believe me.” She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

  Her mother raised her hand from Leonie’s shoulder and placed it against her cheek. “We’ll discuss this more in the morning, dear. Everything’s alright, I assure you.”

  Leonie pulled away, her gaze lowering.

  Her mother called over another nanny—Leliana, an elderly woman who remained with them in their gorgeous pine mansion even after retirement. The old woman, who had also been lingering in the hallway, walked past the guards and approached Leonie.

  “Come now, dear,” Leliana said. She wrapped her arm around Leonie and guided the young woman out of the room. “Your mother is always right, is she not? Let’s heed her advice now.”

  Their steps were slow and small, bare feet padding over cold wooden floors. Leonie stared at the floorboards and allowed Leliana and the guards to walk her back to her bedroom. Once there, the guards returned to their posts outside the door as Leliana tucked Leonie in—like she used to do so many years ago.

  Leliana patted Leonie’s head. “Would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”

  Leonie clenched her teeth, but she forced herself to smile. “No thank you, madam.”

  “Very well. Goodnight, dear.”

  “Goodnight, Leliana.”

  The old nanny shuffled her slow, exhausted frame out of the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

  Leonie glared at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes before she blinked them away. For a few excruciating moments, she considered everyone’s doubts—thought about her own state of mind, if it was damaged somehow.

  Then she huffed and got out of bed.

  She had stepped around the squeakier of floorboards as she packed, got dressed, and prepared for the journey ahead. Outside her bay window, Asawiss—the kingdom on top of the world’s snowiest mountains—stood in sheer darkness. The clouds blanketed the sky and prevented starlight from shining over the pine forest and the crisp snow.

  Dressed in several layers—her head covered by a thick brown hood—she shouldered her pack and crept over to one of her smaller windows. She opened it, an icy breeze rustling her clothes.

  Her chest tightened. She glanced over at the door, images of her family tormenting her mind.

  No. She must do this. It was a holy calling, after all. If her parents wouldn’t believe, then she must rebel—for the time being, at least.

  She took a deep breath before facing the window again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She trudged through the snow, wandering past her village and then entering the dense forest. The scents of pine and moisture—the sounds of skittering creatures—she was familiar with it all. She breathed with ease as she trekked through the darkness. Though her compass was useless at night, the slant of the land reassured her that she was traveling in the right direction.

  Down.

  The light was sluggish—and then rapid—as it rose above the horizon and colored the sky. The clouds, massive and puffy as they were, had gaps within them where sunlight peeked through and touched the land.

  By the time Leonie walked on moist grass instead of snow, the sun was fully above the world of Olnorma.

  She beamed at the grass—the bushes—everything—as she entered yet another forest, the chill refreshing her lungs rather than freezing them over.

  It had been ages since she had seen any living foliage other than pine trees.

  Leonie stopped beside a slanted tree and crouched down, her gloved fingers running through the patches of grass. Delight tickled her breastbone.

  She was no doubt out of the Kingdom of Asawiss now, but did she reach the border of—

  “Halt!”

  She went rigid before forcing herself to turn toward that deep, gravelly voice.

  There stood a man with the flesh of stone, his eyes like washed brown pebbles. His cheekbones were high, as were his shoulders, each step making his rocky muscles grind against one another. It sounded like it should’ve taken a great effort for him to move yet he moved with ease. He wore a dark green uniform with a thin hat placed on top of his spiked head.

  A Gargan. It had been beyond ages since she had seen one of their kind.

  Slowly, Leonie rose to her feet while keeping her hands open. Even if she could punch the Gargan without hurting herself, it would be wise to appear unthreatening to a law enforcer.


  He stopped before her and narrowed his eyes. “Are you leaving the Kingdom of Sasawa or are you entering it?”

  She swallowed. “I’m entering it.”

  He glanced in the direction she had come from. “So you are from the Kingdom of Asawiss. What is your business in Sasawa?”

  Like a fool—like an idealistic, tired, hopeful fool—she told him the truth. She told him about Mathsus, the upcoming war—all of it, despite her family’s reactions warning her to be silent.

  The Gargan frowned at her, his glare softening as his eyes expressed an annoyed kind of pity. “I see. Well, I’m afraid it is my duty to blaspheme against your holy mission and send you back home.” He pointed up the mountain. “Go, or I must detain you for trespassing with harmful intent.”

  “Harmful?! I just said I mean to prevent a war!”

  He nodded. “So you did.” He kept pointing up the mountain. “Now, be on your way. See a healer of some sort if you can.”

  Her nostrils flared, her hand trembling with the urge to slap away his pointing hand. “Why is everyone so faithless? Miracles happened in the old tales, did they not? Why is it so preposterous that a miracle could happen again?!”

  The Gargan rolled his eyes and lowered his blasted hand. “The old tales were merely tales, nothing more. If you wish to make something more of them, fine, but leave others free from your insanity. The rest of us don’t need to suffer the preachings of a madwoman.”

  “Looks like you’re suffering enough already.”

  “Exactly. So go.”

  She crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her throat. “You—you know what? I feel sorry for you! You heathens are the reason Olnorma is in such pain.”

  He rolled his eyes again. “Yes, yes, the doubters of the gods and of the angels destroy all happiness and cheer – time to leave.” He flicked his hand toward the mountain. “I’m doing a job so that I can get paid, nothing more. You disrupt my job, you disrupt my pay. You see my predicament?”

  She took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down—to think. Her blood was too hot, though, moving too fast in her veins and dizzying her. It was instinct, of all things, that had her saying, “Fine. You win. But why does that man get to cross the border freely?”

  The Gargan’s eyes widen before he turned around.

  She dashed past him. She raced through the forest—leaping over ditches and logs, ducking beneath low thick branches and weaving around trees.

  Heavy footsteps assaulted the ground at a swift pace behind her.

  The Gargan shouted at her to return and face justice as he barreled his way through the serene environment. The forest floor rumbled with each quick step.

  He was fast for someone so large, but she was nimble. She would lose him at any moment.

  Leonie jarred her body left, sprinted, and then some shape walked past a tree and right in her path.

  She crashed into it, the two tumbling over the grass and dirt until Leonie’s side hit the trunk of a tree. She hissed, hands snapping to her hurt hip. As she massaged it, she looked up to see what she had unintentionally assaulted.

  She swore her heart stopped.

  The being rose on its hands and knees, pointed ears pointed to the crook of her neck. She shook her head and blinked at the ground. Her face expressed no emotions, no soul, her entire body translucent as if to represent her own emptiness.

  A Fader. An elven Fader.

  They weren’t real, though. They weren’t supposed to be real.

  Leonie pushed herself to her feet, her shoulders pressing against the bark behind her. She gaped at the Fader as it, too, stood up. Leonie sucked in a breath, heart hammering and blood roaring past her ears.

  Distantly, she heard the Gargan running toward them, the forest blocking him from view.

  The Fader slowly turned its head to Leonie and blinked.

  Leonie went ice-cold.

  “Mathsus,” the Fader whispered. It sounded in awe. “You saw a god. You spoke to a god.” It took a step toward her and reached out. “That light, that memory…it's sweeter than mice and honey. It's brighter without the pain of it. You saw the god of fate and you still live.” It took another step toward her.

  Leonie pressed herself further into the bark.

  The Fader opened and closed its mouth repeatedly.

  The forest was quiet.

  “You saw a god and listened,” the Fader said, eyebrows rising. “My, the memory—the intoxicating memory is pure. So pure.” It took another step closer. “I can’t pull away. I don’t wish to pull away. This memory of Mathsus—it must be mine forever.” It clasped its hands onto Leonie’s face.

  She kicked its gut and then elbowed its nose.

  The poor thing reeled back, palms pressed against its crooked nose—not bleeding. It turned and rubbed its face, strangled sounds escaping it.

  Leonie rushed over and planted a hard kick against the Fader’s temple.

  It collapsed, eyes closing and clear liquid dripped from its opened mouth. It shivered for a few seconds before becoming still, save for the gentle rhythm of its chest moving up and down repeatedly.

  Leonie stared in awe at the Fader. It was…it was too much. A god and then a Fader. She shook her head and stumbled forward, her gaze sweeping over the ground in search of her pack.

  There, to her left.

  She went to it, picked up, and then straightened.

  The Gargan stood a few meters away, his eyes bulging and his face a lighter shade than it had been before. Could Gargan’s get pale?

  They stared at each other for a long moment, the Fader breathing between them and the wind brushing past them.

  “So,” he said at last, “you said there would be a war between Sallimor and Maylorn?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “What? You believe it now that you heard it from—?” She glanced at the Fader. She wanted to be resentful, she really did, but hearing about religious things from a mythical creature did make seem all more plausible for some reason. Leonie sighed and shook her head. “Well, fine then. Does this mean I can cross Sasawa without you chasing me?”

  His face scrunched, creating small wrinkles around his lips and face. Wrinkled rock…she stepped closer, wishing to observe this amazing sight. Her eyes softened as she did so.

  His face scrunched further and he leaned back a little. “What are you doing?”

  She blinked and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Her tone was too indifferent to convey sincerity, so she cleared her throat. “I just…nevermind. I’ll be leaving now.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  She nearly laughed. “What? Why? Not five minutes ago, you thought I was a loon.”

  “To be fair, I still think that.”

  Leonie crossed her arms.

  “But,” the Gargan continued, raising a hand in appeasement, “I do believe you now…” He motioned toward the unconscious Fader. “That means my home and my family are truly in danger. I wish to aid them in any way I can.”

  Her eyebrows rose, the tension within her ebbing. “You’re from…?”

  “Maylorn.”

  The smallest kingdom in Olnorma—the size of two cities, really. How it had not been swallowed by another kingdom yet, no one was sure.

  Leonie frowned, doubt flickered within her mind. Still, if it was her family and kingdom in danger... Her neck stiff, she nodded. “I suppose if you’re polite toward me, I could use the company.”

  “You could use the company regardless. You fight well, but you cannot match my strength.”

  She scoffed, lips curling upward. “I don’t think I’ll be needing any kind of brute force, but that’s good to know, Mr.…?”

  He took off his hat, his scalp made of thousands of tiny spikes pointed behind him. Pressing the hat against his chest, he used his free hand to reach for her own. “You may call me Adrik Shabalin.”

  She shook his hand—cold, rough, though his grip was rather gentle. “Leonie Dupont.”

  “The
Young Duchess of Asawiss?” He smirked as if joking.

  “One of them.” She shrugged, releasing his hand before she walked away—Adrik walking right beside her with his head canted to the side. “We’re smaller than Maylorn, you know. At least half of our citizens have some kind of royal title.”

  He hummed in stoic acknowledgment, his eyes aimed forward and his hat held by his side.

  She eyed him. He said nothing as they continued onward, the birds fluttering wings and soft chirps the only sounds disrupting the silence between herself and this Adrik. He blinked slowly, gaze distant as thoughts—perhaps utterly boring thoughts—clouded his expression.