Veiled Empire
Page 42
More nods.
“Third,” Yandumar paused, “she will eradicate the Hardohl academy, and return all students to what family of theirs can be found.”
At this, eyebrows shot up around the chamber, and a flurry of whispered conversations sprang to life. This, he had not discussed with anyone but Slick Ren, Derthon, and Ilyem herself.
For you, my son. The best that I can do. The best I know how.
Yandumar thought he’d shed all the tears he would, but he was wrong. His chest tightened as they carved their way down his cheeks and dripped silently to the floor. Everything he’d done had been for Mevon. To have come so far, and lost him anyway, seemed the cruelest sort of punishment he could think of.
So, right there in the audience chamber in the ruins of the palace, he made a new vow—one that only he and God would ever know—to honor his son’s memory, and his sacrifice, above all else.
He led Slick Ren back, and together they sat on their new thrones, beginning a reign that would, he hoped, remove the oppression and persecution and sorrow and blood from the land and replace it with freedom and acceptance and joy and life.
Our veil has been lifted. Now, it’s time to see who we truly are.
Epilogue
DRAEVENUS STROLLED, ENJOYING the last of the day’s sunshine as it streamed through evergreen boughs. He breathed in the unmolested scent of a spring breeze. Leather straps squeezed on his shoulders, his pack shifted in rhythm with each step upon the verdant forest floor.
He carried with him everything he would need. Food and water, spare clothes, coin, tools for a life on the trail. Besides a hatchet and a skinning knife, he possessed no other weapons. He’d rolled up his blades inside his chain mail and left them behind. Where he was going, he would not need them.
He’d said his good-byes to his sister and mother. Vashodia knew, of course, what he was getting up to, calling him a fool. There had been no embrace to mark their separation nor words of encouragement, but he could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she wished him well. Angla, though, had practically squeezed the life out of him. She warned him to be careful. Staying within the empire’s borders after all their kind had been ordered to leave presented hazards, both to himself and the tenuous peace that kept the populace from their throats. He’d told her not to worry. He was, after all, very good at hiding.
My disguise could probably use some work, though. More than ever before, he would need to interact with people, hear their stories and tales and legends. A hood to hide his face would not be enough. He needed a wig, paste to color his skin, gloves that more thoroughly concealed his claws, and a convincing story about his identity.
These thoughts and others swirled gently around his head. There was no urgency, no strict timeline, no lives or souls at stake. The quest before him would likely take years, if not decades, yet Draevenus had never felt more content with his life. Never felt more at peace.
Night soon fell. Draevenus knew the forest well, and trudged towards a place nearby where shelter could be found. A hill loomed before him. On the other side was an alcove protected on three sides by stone and trees. Treading through the game trail, Draevenus circled around to the entrance.
An orange glow illuminated the place.
Instinctively, he halted and began turning away. But he stopped himself. I’ve got to start thinking differently sometime. Might as well begin now. He began humming and shuffling his feet, making noise to warn the alcove’s occupant of his approach.
He stepped into the firelight and paused. A big man sat on a log, his face turned slightly away from the flames and concealed by a raised hood. Draevenus smiled. “Greetings, traveler. I see you have found the best shelter within a league of here. As night has already fallen, would you mind if I shared your fire?”
The man gestured at his makeshift bench of wood. “Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” Draevenus sat down at the opposite end of the log. He shrugged out of his pack and laid it before him, digging through to find his cooking pan. He put it on the fire, then unwrapped a slab of salted venison. After a moment, he took out a second. “I have plenty, friend. For the gift of your fire, I would gladly share.”
The man dipped his head. “That would be most welcome.”
Once the steaks were sizzling and their savory aroma filled the alcove, Draevenus turned to the man. “So, where are you headed?”
The man shrugged. “West, I think.”
“Any particular destination?”
“For now? No. Not really. What about you?”
“I am heading west as well, towards the Andean Mountains.”
“Ah. I hear they are quite beautiful this time of year.”
“Quite. I hope to get there by summer, when the snows are least, and make my way through one of the passes.”
“You seek the far side?”
Draevenus nodded as he flipped over the meat.
“It’s a dangerous trek,” continued the man. “What lies beyond the mountains that is worth such a risk?”
“Perhaps nothing. But I seek stories, and the people settled there may have some that no one else has heard.”
“Stories? About what?”
Draevenus sighed. “About the fall of a god.”
The man grunted. “You seek Ruul.” It was not a question.
Draevenus nodded. “He and I have some unfinished business. And it is long past time that we met.”
The steaks finished cooking, and Draevenus retrieved them from the pan. The man skewered one on a long dagger and began taking bites straight off the blade. Draevenus, rather than retrieve a plate and fork, laughed to himself and did the same. The man produced a skin of wine, took a drink, then passed it to Draevenus. They ate their meal in silence, washing down each bite with a swig of wine and wiping the grease from their mouths with the backs of their gloves.
When finished, the man slumped to the ground with his feet towards the fire and leaned his back against the log. “It occurs to me,” he said, “that your journey will be a lonely one.”
“I suppose it will be,” Draevenus said. “But that is something I’ve grown used to.”
“Used to, perhaps. But not fond of.”
Draevenus shook his head.
The man leaned forward. “Your quest seems a noble one, friend. It has . . . purpose. Something I find that I am lacking at the moment. Perhaps we can help each other out?”
“You mean, solve the problem of my loneliness and your aimlessness at the same time?”
“Precisely.”
“Then, my friend, I cordially invite you to accompany me on my journey. What say you?”
The man stayed silent for several beats, drumming his fingers in the dirt. “Before I say yes, I have just one question.”
Draevenus waved his open palm towards him.
“Will there be blood?”
Draevenus did not need to think long. He slipped to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest. “Not if I can help it.”
The man flipped down his hood. In the flickering firelight, Draevenus watched as Mevon Daere curled his lips up into a smile.
Glossary
Locations and Terms
Abyss—slang term for death
Adjudicators—mierothi and daeloth sorcerer-assassins, led by Marshal Adjudicator Jezrid
Agoritha Plains—the breadbasket of the central territory
Andean—long chain of mountains on the extreme west end of continent
Andun—weapon used exclusively by Hardohl, a metal rod with long blades at each end which are bent into the shape of open diamonds
Beat—unit of time equaling approximately one heartbeat (.86 seconds). A hundred beats in each Mark.
Blade Cabal—group of ten Hardohl who serve as the personal protectors of the emperor and his palace in Mecrithos
&n
bsp; Brightwisp—hovering swarm of particles held together by pure light energy, released from the body of a caster (valynkar-blooded) upon death
Caster—generic term for a wielder of magic/sorcery. Male: sorcerer—Female: sorceress
Cataclysm, the—event marking the end of the War of Rising Night, in which the continent was broken, raising the elevation by almost a kilometer in most places, and erecting the Shroud
Chasm, the—a deep canyon formed on ground zero of the Cataclysm, forms three-way border between the central, northern, and eastern territories
Daeloth—half-human half-mierothi, bred by nefarious means to act as commanders in the Imperial army
Darkwatch—zealous and skilled group of humans and daeloth, assigned as personal bodyguards to each mierothi in the empire
Darkwisp—hovering swarm of particles held together by pure dark energy, released from the body of a caster (mierothi-blooded) upon death
District—one of five regions divided from each prefecture
Elite—best of the best, assigned to a Fist under a Hardohl, wear heavy armor that is enchanted to minimize the effects of direct sorcery
Energize—to gather energy before casting a spell, also called charging, pooling, gathering, etc.
Evervine—bioluminescent vine that was cultivated in old valynkar dwellings
Fist—small unit led by a Hardohl and his/her selected captains, consisting mostly of Elite with a smaller number of Rangers, specializes in hunting down rogue casters
Frozen Fangs—a chain of long, sharp peninsulas jutting out into the icy southern sea
Fyrdra—the westernmost prefecture of the southern territory
Godsreach—chain of mountains in the eastern territory
Hardohl—humans who are completely immune to direct applications of sorcery, they wield an Andun and lead a Fist into battle against rogue casters
Lightfall Square—the ceremony grounds outside the palace in Mecrithos
Mark—unit of time equaling approximately a minute and a half. Fifty marks in each toll.
Mecrithos—capital of the empire, located in the central territory
Mierothi—humanoids covered in dark scales, with pale faces and claws, masters of dark magic, rulers of the veiled empire
Namerrun—prefecture in the northern territory
Panisahldron—nation outside of the empire
Prefecture—one of five regions divided from each territory, ruled by a mierothi prefect
Ragremos—nation that existed before the mierothi conquest
Rashunem Hills—foothills in the easternmost section of the Godsreach Mountains
Sceptre—nation outside of the Veiled Empire
Shelf, the—the massive cliff that marks the entire border of the continent
Shenog Ravine—southern offshoot of the Chasm
Shroud, the—a magic barrier around the entire continent, erected as a result of the Cataclysm
Silverstone—shiny stone that the valynkar used to build their floating cities
Taditali vineyards –landmass covering nearly all of the Namerrun prefecture of the northern territory, owned and operated by the Taditali family of wine merchants
Territories—names of the five geographical and political segments of the empire (north, south, east, west, and central)
Thorull—capital city of the self-named prefecture in the eastern territory
Toll—unit of time equaling approximately seventy-two minutes. Twenty tolls in a day.
Valynkar—humanoids defined by typically tall height, hair all colors of the rainbow, ethereal wings that can be summoned at will, masters of light magic
Veiled Empire—unofficial title of the continent ruled by the mierothi
Verge—prison/medical facility on the southern tip of the Andean mountain range
War of Rising Night—the conflict between the mierothi and their subjugated allies (notably the nation of Ragremos) against the valynkar and the nations of men nineteen hundred years ago
Dramatis Personae
The Fist
Arozir—Elite captain
Idrus—Ranger captain
Ivengar—Ranger lieutenant
Mevon Daere—Hardohl (magic void), leader
Ropes—Elite lieutenant
Tolvar—Elite captain
The Revolution
Bellanis—former Imperial sergeant, commander
Calla—sorceress
Derthon—bandit king, former Hardohl
Gilshamed—valynkar, leader of the revolution, “Golden Man”
Jasside Anglasco—sorceress, knows the secret weakness of Hardohl
Orbrahn—cocky young sorcerer
Slick Ren—bandit queen, sister to Derthon
Yandumar—Second to Gilshamed, former Elite captain
The Mierothi Council
Grezkul—supreme arcanod
Jezrid—marshal adjudicator
Kael—elderly Hardohl, Voren’s warden
Kitavijj—mother phyzari
Lekrigar—high regnosist
Rekaj—emperor
Truln—chronicler
Voren—valynkar prisoner
The Outcasts
Angla—captured mierothi, mother to Draevenus and Vashodia
Draevenus—mierothi assassin, brother of Vashodia
Harridan Chant—former Elite captain, uncle to Idrus
Paen Taditali—son of wine baron, Vashodia’s lover
Shadow—former Ranger captain
Vashodia—puller of strings, keeper of secrets
Others
Abendrol Torn—mayor of Ragremon town, uncle to Tolvar and Arozir
Brefand—Jasside’s half brother
Hezraas—mierothi, prefect of Thorull
Ilyem Bakhere—Hardohl
Kaiera—Yandumar’s wife (deceased)
Lashriel—captured valynkar woman, life-mate to Gilshamed
Masri Gensrasco—daeloth, general of the Thorull Host
Naeveth and Mosnar—Hardohl
Samaranth—mierothi, phyzari in charge of Verge
Sarian Thress—Ragremon historian
Tursek—daeloth, in charge of Verge tribute caravan
Historical Figures
Analethis—valynkar champion
Elos –god of light and the valynkar
Heshrigan—valynkar arbiter
Murathrius—valynkar mediator
Ruul—god of darkness and the mierothi
About the Author
Born in 1983, NATHAN GARRISON has been writing stories since his dad bought their first family computer. He grew up on tales of the fantastic. From Narnia and Middle-Earth to a galaxy far, far away, he has always harbored a love for things only imagination can conjure up. He counts it among the greatest joys of his life to be able to share the stories within him. He has two great boys and an awesome wife who is way more supportive of his writing efforts than he thinks he deserves. Besides writing, he loves playing guitar (the louder the better), cooking (the more bacon-y the better), playing board/video/card games with friends and family, and reveling in unadulterated geekery. Veiled Empire is his first novel. You can follow him on Twitter at @NR_Garrison.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
VEILED EMPIRE. Copyright © 2015 by Nathan Garrison. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusi
ve, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition MAY 2015 ISBN: 9780062418258
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062418241
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