The Sons of Animus Letum

by Andrew Whittle

  The Sons of Animus Letum

  By Andrew F. Whittle

  © 2015 Andrew Whittle

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying form without written permission of the author, Andrew Whittle

  For my family:

  When I was broken, I didn’t rebuild me…

  We rebuilt me.

  Special Thanks To:

  Marc Plamondon, Ph.D.

  It is impossible to measure the amount of work you contributed to this project. I could not have done this without your help. Thank you so much for your insights and honesty

  Evin Bekeschus (Cover Artist)

  Thank you for your creativity. Your artwork pinpointed the style I was looking for

  Sarah “Sarock” Cotnam

  Thank you for getting the ball rolling

  Meg Parker

  Your insight helped shape the novel into what it is

  The “So Crazy It Feels Like Home” Peddle Family

  Grimey … Dougie Pacino … The list goes on… Thank you for being in my corner

  Denis Stokes

  From start to finish, thank you for your contributions to this project

  Dr. Jean Guy Gagnon

  Who would have thought that the kid you met twelve years ago would write a novel? Thank you for all of your help.

  And Last But Not Least, Pat “The Restless Hobo” Kirk

  Thank you for your editing and Photoshop expertise. See you on Wednesday

  Cast of characters:

  Serich Lyran (SER-itch LEER-an) – King of Animus Letum

  Rhea Lyran (RAY-ah LEER-an) – Serich’s queen

  Charon (SHAR-on) – historian of Animus Letum

  Perian Lyran (PAIR-i-an LEER-an) – ancestor of Serich

  Jerub Lyran (JARE-ub LEER-an) – father of Serich

  Odin (OH-din) – son of Serich and Rhea, brother of Galian

  Galian (GAL-i-an) – son of Serich and Rhea, brother of Odin

  Forneus (FORE-ni-us) – Serich’s general / Serpent Messiah

  Haren (HARE-en) – young Deathrider

  Morello (mor-ELL-o) – Haren’s brother

  Tholyk (THO-lik) – cleric of Haren’s village

  Aeroh (AIR-oh) – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Igallik (i-GAL-ik) – head monk of the Throne’s Eye monastery

  Wylak (WHY-lik) – Throne’s Eye herbalist

  Raine – Throne’s Eye warrior

  Losik (LOH-sik) – Haren’s father

  Yilas (YIE-las) – Haren’s mother

  Usis (YOU-sis) – Raine’s apprentice

  Nile – Logic totem of the Throne’s Eye High Order

  Bysin – Instinct totem of the Throne’s Eye High Order

  Raeman (RAY-ah-men) – Justice totem of the Throne’s Eye High Order

  Palis (PAL-is) – Mercy totem of the Throne’s Eye High Order

  Eiydia (EYE-di-ah) – scout in the rebel faction

  Tyrik (TEER-ik) – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Jasil (ja-ZEEL) – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Cole – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Lizin (LY-zin) – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Shylam – leader of the rebel faction

  Malum Ludus (MAL-um LOO-dis) – embodiment of evil

  Symin – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  Craine – monk of the Throne’s Eye

  The MacEnrow – family of miners

  Evelyn – head mistress of the Sisterhood

  Chloe – nun of the sisterhood

  Sykos (SYE-kose) – leader of the Scale

  Adara (a-DAR-ah) – member of the afterlife’s resistance

  Azean (AZ-i-en) – member of the afterlife’s resistance

  Rysan (RYE-sen) – member of the afterlife’s resistance

  Lilas (LYE-les) – member of the afterlife’s resistance

  α

  There is a world that awaits you – each of you. By your breath you are promised it. By your death you are given it. I speak of the afterlife. My pen pledges this truth, for, dearest reader, I am dead. I write to you from the hereafter. With only the scythe between us, I write to you from a short distance – much closer, I assure you, than you realize. Time, the inescapable venom of death, promises our meeting. But you know not what you are destined to enter. Many of your earth realm’s mystics have claimed knowledge of the afterlife. I tell you now that your prophets are false. The faiths of your earth realm demand surrender and penance. They choose to breed sheep instead of shepherds. My world cannot afford such a price. When the swords of good and evil clash in war, a sheep is of little value. God lives in my world just as He lives in yours. He is the invisible presence of which we are born. But make no mistake: He has grown tired of your realm’s endless strife. It is true that your religions are the rivers that lead to His Ocean, but you have sieged your rivers with blood. You have warred upon fallacy and died upon delusion. Your religions have blinded you to what is next. Allow me to lift the veil: there is no heaven, there is no hell. There is only Animus Letum.

  Animus Letum is not estranged from the politics that reign in your earth realm. Government is necessary; but where your governments employ mediators, Animus Letum employs warriors. We need our kings to wield more than words. War was the trade of our gladiator kings, and by their brawn, our ironclad rulers were the great compass of the afterlife. The land heeded to them. Just as a righteous soul on the throne brought us heaven, a wicked soul would bring us hell. It was that simple: so simple, in fact, that wars were repeatedly waged to claim the throne. However, there exists only one royal lineage incumbent to the throne: the House of Lyran. Never once defeated, the House of Lyran have proved themselves to be the invincible guardian of the afterlife. The truths of the Lyran kings’ power are disgraced by the limits of my pen, for they, the great tenders of the throne, are more god than man. Heavy but worthy lie their crowns.

  In Animus Letum, the most important detail of any king’s reign, in fact the defining element of his dominion, is the Soul Cauldron. The Cauldron, a massive ninety-foot high cylinder in the king’s Throne Room, contains the greatest energy in the afterlife. It is so powerful that its condition affects the entire hereafter. The Cauldron is an exact representation of the king’s thoughts and actions. Every act the king commits – good or evil – is reflected by the Cauldron’s nature. Depending on the king’s actions, the Cauldron could grow to be a source of great virtue or malice – it could spread heaven or hell across the entire afterlife. Through the House of Lyran, the Cauldron had brought ages of heaven.

  The Cauldron is also a refuge. In my realm, time does not reap its due consequences – we are in an age of forever. Yet, we still fear Death. Death and his scythe could strike their second blow. The only form of asylum for the souls having twice died is the Soul Cauldron. For these souls, the Cauldron is the last state of existence – a final resting place. Like the land, the souls in the Cauldron are completely affected by the Cauldron’s nature, and they, depending on the king’s morality, would become either angels or demons in his service. By the House of Lyran, only angels were formed in the Cauldron. As each reign of the Lyran House stretched over thousands of years, the Cauldron became the great icon of the Lyrans’ righteous reign.

  Millennia had passed before the House of Lyran’s lineage led to Serich, son of Jerub. No king was more powerful than the Great Serich. His reign, succumbing to no vice, to no fault, embodied the spirit of the throne. He was our king, our saint, and our idol. Serich’s might was without equal, and in the portraits of our kings, he was the rendering of the divine stroke. Serich was the perfect incarnation of his bloodline – and this was proven
the moment that he inherited the crown. The great power of the crown was that it held all the powers, thoughts, and memories each king of Animus Letum had ever possessed. With each new reign, these powers were passed down from king to king. However, the crown could heed to only one man – it knew intimately its wearer and obeyed only him. If the crown were worn by any man or woman who had not been anointed, then no power would be inherited. In Animus Letum there are only two ways to be anointed: the first is to be awarded the throne by the will of the king, and the second is to kill the king. Being of the most royal Lyran house, Serich was willed the crown by his father. His inheritance was great. By way of Jerub, his father, the crown bestowed patience and wisdom. From Perian, the great warrior king, Serich inherited incredible skill in combat. But to his greatest credit, Serich possessed a unique power of his own – he held mastery over his own soul. This power was limitless. Serich could see into the hearts and minds of all within his sight. He could move objects without touching them. He could even lift the very soul within himself: he could fly.

  Under Serich’s rule, Animus Letum shone with the might of its king: it was heaven.

  Not long into Serich’s reign, the great king took his queen, the beautiful and graceful Rhea. In any world, Rhea’s beauty humbled even the most stunning horizon of earth, sea and sky. It was not only a beauty of form, but of mind and soul as well. Like Serich’s Cauldron, Rhea seemed to shine more brightly upon each new day. Her spirit was so radiant that upon touch, her emotions were transferred to other souls. Any life that brushed against hers became better. More than any power or possession, Rhea was whom Serich held dearest.

  Centuries passed under Serich and Rhea’s rule. And as the afterlife thrived, the king began to desire the one thing he was without: an heir. Thankful for the blessings of his blood and monarchy, Serich wished to sire a child in his world. He hoped to continue the cycle of his lineage. And soon, by God’s grace, our land rejoiced as Serich announced that Rhea was with child. It was I, however, while tending to Rhea, who discovered the great blessing of her pregnancy. The queen was carrying twins – both male. I brought the news to Serich. Any lesser king would have delved long and hard into the problems posed by two heirs, but our king was joyous, refusing to challenge the hands of fate.

  The people of Animus Letum eagerly awaited the arrival of the new royal blood.

  But I speak not of all in our kingdom.

  With great regret I must introduce you to the dark shadow of Animus Letum: the Dark Pool. The Dark Pool is an evil cavern that is determined to bring anarchy to the afterlife. It remains the great bane to the throne of Animus Letum.

  The Dark Pool’s soldiers are known as the Vayne. The Vayne are not people, they are not human. They are serpents in the guise of man. They are the drones of the Dark Pool, and they serve their master’s malice with callous execution.

  The Dark Pool and Vayne, having warred with the House of Lyran for ages, despised the possibility of another royal heir. So as news of Serich’s heirs reached the Dark Pool, acts of gruesome violence began to grow closer and closer to the throne. The Vayne, so absolutely pathetic and futile in their attacks against Serich, took immense pleasure in manipulating the only thorn they had managed to dig into Serich’s side: corrupting the people of his kingdom. A small number of attempts – all by men who were spellbound by serpent whispers – were made on the Queen’s life. The king was easily able to neutralize the threats, but the Vayne’s methods had become a growing concern.

  The king, no longer believing the Queen to be safe in his absence, turned to his most faithful ally: Forneus. Forneus had been the king’s lifelong friend, and aside from Serich, he remained Animus Letum’s strongest warrior. Forneus spoke few words, but his was a silence deep in thought. Having read the hearts of all in his quarters, Serich knew that Forneus was endowed with the strongest of all. And so it was that Serich requested a service from his great friend. The king asked Forneus to suffer the descent into the Dark Pool so that he could destroy the threat posed by the serpent menace.

  Forneus obliged.

  Animus Letum would never be the same.

  In service to the king he admired, Forneus took up his duty with vigilance. As he trekked into Animus Letum’s shadows, he believed himself to be the hunter – the opposite was true. The Dark Pool had targeted his heart with weapons of corruption. While stationed at the Dark Pool, Forneus delivered countless Vayne to their deaths and, on the surface, he appeared to be depressing the morale of his serpent foe. However, with weapons of shadows and whispers, the Dark Pool and its Vayne were making tactical advances on Forneus’s mind. What a pleasure it would be for them to twist Serich’s most trusted ally. With great regret, I must inform you of their success. In the wicked hiss of the Dark Pool, Forneus was driven mad. He was robbed of his loyalty, and soon his corrupted heart began to beat with a rhythm of anarchy. Forneus came to despise his king. Insanity led to initiative, and in his weakness Forneus offered himself to the Dark Pool. The denizens of the Dark Pool received Forneus as their messiah, and then, with thousands of the slithering Vayne, Forneus marched on the throne.

  War was upon Animus Letum.

  The first and only night of war swayed between the extremes of virtue and vileness. The pendulum of Animus Letum’s soul, swinging to Serich and then swiftly to Forneus, seemed to possess no allegiance. The tides of war seemed uninterested in right or wrong – there was only madness. Blood was shed. It still pains me to report that ours was spilled more than theirs. The trail of destruction that Forneus left on his way to the crown was merciless, and as the Serpent Messiah grew closer to the Royal Throne, the task of the kingdom’s defence fell solely on Serich’s shoulders – Forneus and his hundreds of Vayne against the king. Serich was outnumbered at least three hundred to one, and still I favoured our king. That is a testament, without boast or ignorance, to Serich’s might: pit against the very devil of his land, with his opponents numbered in the hundreds, the king would overcome.

  Forneus led his three hundred Vayne up the grand staircase to the Throne Room. His dark skin blushed a hellish orange against the smouldering hail that fell from the stormy skies of Animus Letum. His orange eyes – no pupil or iris – raged with the blazing hue of the falling debris.

  Those eyes had set their mark on the prize.

  The throne was the massive golden centerpiece within Serich’s roofless court, and it stood directly in front of the luminous blue Soul Cauldron. The azure glow of the Cauldron dominated the Throne Room’s pallet, reflecting an electric blue onto the Throne Room’s dark marble base and forty surrounding pillars.

  With his orange eyes burning through the blue, the Serpent Messiah was followed by his hundreds of malevolent Vayne.

  The serpent soldiers marched under the comfort of darkness. Thunderous flashes of orange light snaked down from the storm clouds above and coloured the serpent army with a haunting amber. Under the harsh light, the Vayne’s muscular pale gray bodies lit up, highlighting the ancient symbols that were carved into their skin. The Vayne’s faces, all masked from the eyes down, were also carved with the sacred symbols held by their serpent brotherhood, and as the orange light cascaded from above, the symbols burned like hot coals. Above their masks, the Vayne’s eyes were solid and soulless yellow, and above their brow their hair emerged like thick, black, serpentine dreadlocks. The Vayne, armed with swords and spears, followed Forneus into view of the great king.

  Rising from his throne, Serich’s mighty voice boomed through the very core of his kingdom.

  “Forneus,” he bellowed. “What have you done?”

  As the king’s eyes burned an electric blue, he stared fearsomely across his court, his long gray hair blowing madly in the ripping winds.

  “Answer me!” he demanded.

  Hunched in his vile madness, Forneus offered his reply.

  “Destiny awaits a new king, sire.”

  After spitting upon the court he once served, the Serpent Messiah ordered his Vayne to con
verge upon Serich. Like a wave, the Vayne spread methodically throughout the Throne Room.

  Serich paid them no attention.

  Instead, with the flare of betrayal burning in his eyes, he managed one mournful look at his great friend. But as the king read Forneus’s soul, he knew: Forneus was truly dead.

  The king’s ensuing rage, brought by the pain of losing his great friend, would be ruthless.

  As I stood in hiding with the queen, even we were startled by the great pain that streaked across Serich’s face. As Rhea’s hand braced my shoulder, her heartbreak swept through us both.

  “God have mercy,” she prayed.

  “The king will be fine,” I assured her.

  “Not on Serich,” the queen said, “on the Dark Pool. They have killed my king’s best friend and for that Serich will seek retribution,” she said. “They have no idea what they have unlocked.”

  As I looked back over the courtyard, and watched Serich bow his head and shoulders to the earth, I understood the queen exactly. It was not mercy that the king had decided upon for the Vayne – it was extinction.

  With furious eyes, Serich knelt and crashed his massive fists into the marble beneath him. As the floor cracked and fractured, sparks began to flare from the king’s hands. The sparks quickly grew, and as a torrent of blue light spewed from the king’s fists, an electric fire began to scorch around his entire body. The flames circled the king like a windstorm. The Cauldron began to churn, and suddenly, with the Throne Room painted entirely blue, Serich erupted upwards, and an explosion of blue fire blasted across the Throne Room. As the massive wave of flames barrelled over the royal court, every Vayne member within forty yards of the king was incinerated.

  Forneus and those of the Vayne not destroyed by Serich’s great power were tossed to the Throne Room floor. As Forneus and the Vayne rose back to their feet, Serich summoned his mighty staff and moved deep into the center of their numbers. Foolishly, the Vayne again attempted to converge on the king, but Serich tore through their ranks with vicious, precise, and powerful strikes of his mighty staff. After dealing dozens and dozens of the Vayne into death, Serich focused himself even deeper into the well of his wrath. The great Lyran smashed his staff to the ground, igniting it with blue fire, and with a powerful leap, he launched himself high above the Throne Room. With his foes scrambling beneath him, Serich descended out of the skies and slammed his staff mightily into the floor of the Throne Room. Like thunder, another blue shockwave erupted from the marble base of the king’s court, and again the Vayne and Forneus were thrown to the floor.