by H. R. Rekow
Unki the Firm (Un-ki) – The Head god of Wilder culture, specifically the god of war. Unki is made of stone and rests in the holy caves of the Cave Kin people. The only time Wilders permit other Kins through their land is when they pilgrimage to Unki’s Cave and worship their barbaric god with fire and chants. The phrase, ‘Unki strike your jaw’, refers to the god’s fist made of stone breaking someone’s jaw and conquering them.
War of the Royals – Ages ago, there was a prince named Jesmon who led a rebellion against his heir twin brother, Prince Debilongo, in order to gain the throne. The war lasted ten years, dividing the realm in two: the Sulphuros and Charnelics siding with Prince Jesmon and the Lunaris and Sylvaines taking up arms with Prince Debilongo. The war ended with Prince Jesmon being killed by Witch Rippers, his eyes blinded, and left to die alone in what is now known as Deep Wilds. Those who aligned with the rebel prince were deemed lower class, slaves, or outcasts whereas those who fought with Prince Debilongo were granted higher positions throughout society.
During this time, Nauvoo Iles was a Suvarian prison and work camp, yet the rebellion weakened Suvarian’s hold over the island chain. Thus, the prisoners escaped, killing their wardens and guards, and claiming Nauvoo Iles for themselves. Suvaria’s realm nearly crumbled, yet King Debilongo restored order and the elvish kindreds continued on.
Warmonger – Suvarian soldier with the leather between metal joints dyed to distinguish between elvish kindreds: Solaric, marigold, Lunaris, blue stone, Sylvaine, juniper green, Sulphuro, pale yellow, and Charnelic, black.
Werewolf – Highly regarded citizens of Han Ci, werewolves are known for their ability to shift between a human and animal form with wolfish characteristics. Their wolf form is a bear-sized monster walking on all fours with clawed, human-like hands and crushing jaws. Their human form is comparable to humans, yet different enough to be recognizable. Their human form is muscular, taller than most humans, their personality overbearing and domineering, and eye color keeping their dog-like character. They sometimes howl at the moon and, for those without shame, feast on others within the realms, may it be elf, human, dwarf, Hart, and others.
White Dwarf – Type of dwarf, found along Flavency’s wastelands, flourishing amid the ice and blizzards. They are the most civil with humans and other beings, sometimes trading with other nations. They are short, stocky creatures with pale skin, white hair, and pasty eyes.
Wilder – The term used by every people group besides Wilders themselves. This one word sums up the entire KinFolk and generalizes each Kin into a stereotype half-naked, barbaric stone worshiper.
Wolf Folk – The largest Wilder tribe is Wolf Folk, comprising of four Kins: Fang Kin, Claw Kin, Howl Kin, and Moon Kin. They are known for their robust, hulky sizes, dressed in wolves’ hide, and fearlessly charging into battle simply for the enjoyment. They are feared, honored, and avoided by most.
Wraith – Immortal demon whose sole purpose is to overtake, consume, and destroy the lives and minds of mortals. They come in various shapes and sizes, all having gray eyes. Though invisible to most, mortals can sense their presence by chills, their breath frosty clouds, and fires dancing in wild winds when the sky is calm. The Wizard is the only force that can conquer a Wraith.
Wraiths are called different things between the realms. In Tulaun, they are called Wraiths and seen as monster-like forms or humans. Suvaria called Wraiths the Night’s Chasm, depicted as phantom, dark apparitions appearing in the night. Han Ci names Wraiths as Yin Yah’s Demons, or Fire Demons, in the embodiment of raging, uncontrollable fire. In Flavency, they are called Frost Ghosts, seen as dead, frozen dwarfs walking aimlessly.
Wraiths cannot die.
Wraith Eyes – Once a Wraith conquers, controls, and/or owns a mortal, that individual’s eyes will turn a shade of distinct gray.
Highest Melodies References
John 10:10 – “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy, I [God] have come that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
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Romans 8:28 – And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
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Genesis 2:18 – The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”
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Psalms 91:5-7 – Fear not the terrors of the night nor the arrow that flies in midday. Do not dread the disease that stalks in darkness nor the disaster that strikes in midday. A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand may be dying around you, but these evils will not touch you.
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Hebrews 4:12 – For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.
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Coming December 5th!
Into the Hollow
Chapter 1 Sneak-Peek
Olivia’s hands clenched as she hugged her scuffed knees against her chest, her shaken form huddled in a darkened corner of her cell. She tried to cover both her shoulders with a murky, old goat’s hide, but the cold still reached her. She did not make a sound, and stayed as small as she could, her dress torn and smudged with dirt. Her long hair was matted, and hung in filthy flaxen strings as her red-rimmed eyes stared aimlessly.
The air was damp and stale. One flame drooped its head in a lantern high out of reach. The lone flicker cast a pale orange over the room, and sent mangled shadows along the walls. A wooden door faced her, its iron lock and bolt impenetrable. Muffled, sporadic cries shrilled from behind the door, but were always short-lived. Steady pounding thudded around her, above, outside the door, and below. Footsteps tramped past, time and again, but never stopped by her door.
The room consisted of a bed, made of a reed-woven mat, and a stool which teetered on its legs. A bowl of cold soup sat on it by the door, left untouched. There was no window, thus no air worth breathing as each day passed unnoticed in the constant, unchanging gloom. Never before had Olivia hungered for sunshine as she did within the room.
Olivia closed her eyes, and her chin trembled as memories of her abduction flashed through her mind. It was all a blur and foreign, as though she was remembering someone else's story and not her own. No, this could not be her story. It was too terrifying to be real.
She recalled armed knights escorting Prince Theron and her on their journey to Henricien. They were going to marry and she would become princess, and in turn, queen. And she was in love. She could still taste Theron’s captivating kiss on her lips, reliving the moment as to not let it fade.
Then, without warning, they were attacked during the trek through Wraith’s Hollow. Amid the chaos and cries of pain, someone had grabbed her from behind, pulling her away. She struggled and kicked, but nothing hindered the stranger. Olivia swallowed hard, her chin trembling in the dark cell. Not even Theron had come to her salvation . . .
When she was hauled away from the fray and thrown to the ground, she’d seen her assailant and an unwavering horror had seized her throat. A man with red hair and the flaming, enchanted sword stood over her, beaming maleficently. The blade of hissing fire quickly slew the lone knight racing to her aid. He had fallen in a crumpled heap, his body twitching as death overshadowed him. The mystic man had chuckled and pinned Olivia to the ground, amused by her futile struggles. Yet, he had not had his way with her and simply laid a hand on her head.
The next thing she knew, a rat was tickling her nose with its whiskers as she lay in the locked room. She had screamed and frantically swatted away the filthy rodent. She’d looked around, confused, running a shaken hand along the solid stone walls and locked door. It would not budge no matter how hard she pulled. With tiny fists, she had beat the door with screams, pleading to whomever could hear. No one came to answer he
r cries. Exhausted and terrified, she had crawled to the dark corner and sat huddled. With a mournful gasp, she’d buried her face in her hands and wept until there were no more tears to cry.
Now, dry-eyed, Olivia sat and stared, her hands bruised from her desperate pounding and her throat raw. She thought of The Wizard and wondered where the sovereign protector was. Not here, that was certain. She swallowed hard. Wasn’t he supposed to protect her? To be there when dangers came? Olivia hugged her knees to her chest as though they would shield her.
Where are you? she thought. Why are you letting this happen! She heard no response and her emerald eyes dropped to the dirt-scuffed floor. Her glass heart shook as dread snatched it in a firm grip.
“Dearest.”
The lantern flickered as though in a gust of wind at The Wizard’s hushed words.
Olivia sniffed and looked up at the ceiling. She did not hear the whispered voice, but instead searched for a Sacred Creature, anything Red signifying The Wizard’s presence. A cardinal, fox tail, oak leaf, or any sign, for that matter. Where was he?
Gone.
He was gone.
Olivia looked down, her shoulders slumping under the weight of defeat. She closed her eyes as a tear fell, then another, and another. She choked and began to cry again with gasping whimpers. Her shoulders shook with each sob and, a long line jutted across her glass heart and cracked down the middle.
“Where are you?” Olivia whimpered. There was no reply—that is, none she heard. He spoke, yet she was not listening.
Deep within the shadows of the room, between the door and lantern’s flame, was a child. The five-year-old boy studied Olivia, knowing she was incapable of seeing him. His cheeks were round and rosy, and cocoa strands of hair fell across his gaze. He wiped his runny nose with a frumpy tunic sleeve and, with a sneeze, lost his balance and stumbled against the wall. He stood to his tiny feet and glanced back at Olivia, streaks of snot now on his pants.
The child keenly watched Olivia and could guess what she was thinking. His wide eyes breathlessly darted to and fro as anxiety creased his brow. The lad saw nothing scarlet, nor any sign of the One in Red. He took in a deep breath to smell the air, but did not sense The Wizard’s odor of power. The child relaxed with relief and refocused his attention on Olivia. He took a step forward, but hesitated. If the One in Red was there, it would be dangerous to go to her side; almost fatal. The child gritted his teeth with youthful, almost adorable, determination. He narrowed his eyes, a shadow darkening their gray depths.
The gray eyes of a Wraith.
The child-disguised Wraith knew she could keep it safe against The Wizard. If only she allowed it to come to her. Permitted it close. “Poor, pretty lady,” the Wraith said from across the room, its voice small and innocent. “Poor lady. All alone.” Olivia closed her eyes as tear after tear fell. She heard the Wraith’s words, but mistook them as her own thoughts. “The Red One’s not here.”
Olivia shuttered and her breath misted from her lips in a white cloud. All alone, that’s what she was. Left with the darkness and cold. And so lonely . . . so very lonely . . .
The Wraith-child, Eversio it was called, grinned. It stepped forward and crept across the floor. Its dead gray eyes leapt to and fro, yet nothing Red was seen. “He’s left you to care for yourself,” Eversio whispered. “Why? Why’d he do that? It’s mean!”
Olivia glanced around helplessly. “He’s left,” the Wraith whispered as it moved closer. “Just like Da.”
Olivia closed her eyes heavily, remembering her grief-stricken father sending her to Uncle Quinn’s estate for the duration of her childhood. “And he’s mean, like Uncle Quinn. He won’t help, just like Theron.”
Olivia could not speak as the child’s words pressed her fragile heart. The glass shielded itself with all its might, but its strength dwindled.
Eversio reached Olivia’s side and knelt next to her, its child-like eyes wide in youthful gentleness. “He’s mad at you,” it whispered. Olivia choked, and tears stained her dress. The Wraith inched closer. “The Wizard’s mad. You did something wrong.”
Olivia nodded and clung to her knees. “Did something . . .” Her parched lips parted in a silent gasp. “I did something . . .”
The Wraith lifted its chin and leaned against the wall beside her. “Right when you needed him a lot too, now that you’re caught by bad people.” Eversio watched each tear fall, like a victor counting spoils of war. “Shhh . . . it’s okay,” it cooed as it lifted a hand. “I’m here.” It stroked her hair, though she was unaware of its touch. A grin curled its lips upward. A sharp crack shattered the room’s silence and the Wraith glanced at her heart; a new jagged line marred the glassy surface. Olivia twitched and laid a hand over her chest with a groan.
“I’m here. . . .” The Wraith moved closer still and wiggled under one of her arms. “Shhh . . . it’s all right.” It reached toward her chest, its small, greedy fingers clawing. It gazed at the wounded glass heart and licked its lips hungrily.
“Be gone!”
Eversio screamed and recoiled from Olivia’s side. It slammed into the wall and crawled to the far side of the room. It hunkered behind the stool, almost kicking over the soup, its eyes wide and face pale. The lone flame’s orange glow morphed into a fierce Red light which bathed the walls, turning everything crimson.
Olivia, though Red was brushing her features, noticed nothing, blinded by her consuming despair. Eversio frantically searched for The Wizard. It could not see him, which sickened the Wraith more. Where was he, the Red monster? Why won’t he show his face, that coward—
A figure flashed between Eversio and Olivia. Tall. Strong. Dangerous. Fiery silver eyes and long white hair. And Red. A Red robe that filled the room with unmovable power. He stared down at the shaken child-like Wraith, his gaze of flaming silver burning Eversio’s flesh. The Wizard. In an instant, the sovereign immortal flickered into nothing, yet Eversio knew he was still there.
The Wraith shrieked and darted to the wall, fading through the solid barrier. It collapsed against the wall outside, its chest heaving and tiny hands covering its eyes. That was close. Too close! Eversio looked up, its child-like eyes wide, and glanced back. It swallowed hard and moved away, yet its gray eyes stayed intent on the locked room.
It peered through the thick wall, seeing the Red-hues, yet no Wizard. But he was still there with that girl, Eversio knew. The Wizard was never far from his followers, even when they doubted his loyalty. The Wraith heaved a sigh and sat down to wait. It knew Olivia could not see The Wizard or the Red-soaked room. With time, she would welcome Eversio again to her side.
All the Wraith had to do was wait.
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