The Shadow Watch
Page 36
Tori was the only one left standing in the chamber. She felt uncomfortable. She wished she could escape her own skin and disappear. These people were fools to put their hope in her. Tori could do nothing for them. She was the one who needed their help to survive, to escape the Teeth.
Finally, she found words. “Thank you, good people of the North, for letting me join you here in the safety of these caverns. I am honored.”
“It is we who are honored,” said Alyk, “that she who was sent by the gods would grace us with her presence.”
And it was then Tori realized how much bigger than her all this was. This band of Northern refugees had lost everything, but at the sight of the Gallows Girl, they were smiling, hopeful. She had heard it said so many times, from Ren, from the chancellor. But she had never understood. Not until she saw their wide, hopeful eyes.
The Gallows Girl was a symbol of hope for these people. Their livelihoods had been stripped away from them, casualties in a war they never asked for. The Alyuts and the Crooked folk had all fled the Oshan Empire, turning to harsh, secluded environments for the semblance of freedom. But they were not free. And for hundreds of years, they had possessed little to put their hope in.
Tori understood now. She was not just a girl who could wield magic. To these people, she was the hope of Restoration, sent by the gods. The Gallows Girl was an idea that transcended the bounds of reality. She was larger than life. Perhaps in the same way the old gods had been. Maybe the gods had symbolized that same hope, all those years ago. The same hope that the Gallows Girl gave these people now. Maybe the gods had merely been people like her. Ordinary people with extraordinary destinies.
Tears filled Tori’s eyes. Looking out at the wide, hopeful faces before her, she could not help but be filled with an overwhelming sense of awe and duty. She felt a responsibility to these people to become the hope they needed, even if she did not believe in it herself.
They needed her. The surviving Watchers needed her. Darien needed her. This was why she had felt led to the North. She knew it now. This was her path. Whether it was a destiny set by the gods or not, she knew it was what she was meant to do.
Finally, Tori found words. As she spoke, it was all she could do to keep her voice from cracking. She raised her hands high, the way the gods did in all her mum’s old stories. She wondered if her mum had known. If that was why she had abandoned her all those years ago. So that, one day, she would be here.
“Good people of the North, I will journey with you to the Icelands. You have been trodden upon, left alone in this world for too long. But your prayers have been heard. The time of the chancellor is drawing to an end. The age of the Restoration of the North is now!”
The words were not her own, Tori felt sure. They seemed to come from outside her, from some other person, from the Gallows Girl. The refugees of the North cheered and rose to their feet. As Alyk led her through the crowd, hands stretched out, just to touch her and know she was not an illusion, that the Gallows Girl was real. They swarmed around her, offering her food and water, which she took eagerly, though she tried not to let her frailty show.
To the people of the North, she was a god, invincible. They did not know that her neck was still sore, still healing in the place where Alyk’s blade had nearly taken her life.
Tori was not invincible. She gave these people hope, but in reality, they were the very source of the hope welling inside her own heart. The hope that things might still become better. That her friends might still be alive. That they might be set free. That the chancellor’s vicious reign might truly come to an end.
And with the help of the North, and anywhere else where hope remained, they would rise up against the chancellor’s empire of cruelty and injustice.
The company of Alyut traders and Crooked refugees rested for two days in the chamber, and then Tori marched alongside Mischa and Alyk dul Baruk into the Northern night. A procession of hope-filled followers streamed through the snow behind them. Together, they left the Crooked Teeth and set out across the expanse of the Grey Waste, toward the snowy plains of the Icelands.
The Sisters shone down like twin torches from the gods to light their way. Their thousand daughters twirled their nightlong dance across the sky, an intricate choreography that led Tori and her followers on, to the Great White North.
END OF BOOK ONE
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
You’ve reached the end of Book One of the Shadow Watch series, and I would like to take a moment to thank you for taking a chance on the debut novel of an unknown writer. I know that is a risk on your part, and I am most grateful you chose my book to read. I hope you enjoyed it.
If you did, I would greatly appreciate if you considered leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. As a debut author, every review, blog, social media share, and recommendation to a friend counts more than you might imagine. Your support means the world to me!
To keep up-to-date with the status of my writing and receive special access to bonus Watcher content, please visit my website, authorsaklopfenstein.com, and sign up for my newsletter.
I hope you’ll come along for the second book of the Shadow Watch series: The Rage of Saints (Coming Early 2019).
Thanks for reading,
S.A. Klopfenstein
Magic of the Watchers
In the Old World, magic was partitioned according to the dominant gift of each Watcher. This helped bring order for the purposes of sorting and training young Watchers in their budding abilities. On occasion, a Watcher would defy the neatly segregated order of magic. These multifaceted Watchers, known as Magi, were gifted with multiple abilities. They were seen as especially blessed by the gods in the eyes of the people they served.
However, the Watchers did not look upon these Magi so fondly. To their fellows in training, they were seen as threats, Watchers who sought to rise above them. To the masters of the Order, they were seen as overly ambitious, even dangerous.
Contrary to common belief, the magic of the Watchers did not belong only to them. Though the Watchers were the most famous and practiced wielders of magic in the Old World, they were not the only ones with access to such knowledge and power. Magic could not be confined to the realms of the Watchers, nor to their orderly systems. Before the fall of the Old World, one Watcher sought to defy this system. It did not end well.
Nevertheless, here are the orders of magic, as they were known in both the Old World and among the remnant at the Watchtower:
CORPOREAL ORDERS
Medici: the healers
Regenero: the regenerators
Cerebro: the mentalists
Metamorphi: the shapeshifters
Enduro: the ultra-swift
MATERIAL ORDERS
Conjuri: the manipulators of matter
Fieri: the manipulators of fire
Lumeni: the manipulators of light
Sonora: the manipulators of sound
Acknowledgments
The people who have shaped this story are many, and their names could fill volumes. The Watchers evolved from projects for Creative Writing classes I took many years ago. Though those particular stories found their rightful places in the garbage bin, I owe a great thanks to my fellow students at BHSU for the critique and encouragement they gave in those formative days.
Two professors impacted my future as a writer more than I am sure they realized at the time. Dave Diamond encouraged me to give the scary beast known as The Novel a try. His workshops kept me at it, and in the process, I developed a passion for creating strange characters and new worlds. Kent Meyers taught me to love the craft and the process, and he always asked if I was still writing. Yes, Professor, I still am!
Amy and Ryan, thanks for the old Perkins sessions, and for being great friends and critique partners in the early days. Keep using your “non-gunhand-arms,” and keep writing. Kelcy, thanks for your encouragement and for wanting to test-drive my stories.
Bailey South helped me dig deeper fo
r Tori’s voice, and she is an awesome critique partner and an outstanding writer. Alec Hutson and Claire Merle kindly shared their own self-publishing experiences, answered questions about where to begin, and inspired me to give the journey a shot myself.
Thanks to the fine editors at the Ink and Insights contest, whose feedback greatly improved the opening chapters of the book.
The Shadow Watch would likely remain dormant in a pile of unfinished manuscripts in the dark basement of my hard drive had I not posted the first draft to Wattpad. I owe a huge debt to the early readers who followed the story as the chapters were written and kept begging voraciously for more. A shout-out to Nidhi Shetty, Zuko, Sarah K.L. Wilson, M. Dalto, Francesca Grandillo, and the wonderful folks at Fantasci for their support.
A special thank you to the amazing members of the Shadow Launch team: Mesha, SueAnn, Sophia, Pippa, Ishana, Kaylee, Lucy, Nidhi, Sylvia, Jo, Daphne, Adele, Calla, Annette, Emily, Adam M., MaryBeth, Amber, Renee, Noubar, Reuven, Genevieve, Brooke, Ritika, Francesca, Lauren, Parker, Christy, Ember, Mari, Avi, Chloe, AJ, Anna, Mehvish, Barbara, Jerica, Mary, Rusli, and Adam G.
Sebastian Breit is the wizard who brought the New World to life. Gwenn Danae made the stunning illustration of Tori and the Watchtower. And Stefanie Saw is responsible for the final design of this book’s amazing cover. My editor, Tamara Blain, polished up my words and helped the climax pack an even greater punch.
A big thanks to my family, who have lovingly supported me over the years, and who never complain when I sneak away to write and edit during family gatherings.
Finally, a massive thanks to my wife, Kaitlin, for early story criticism and artistic perspective, and for all the love, patience, and encouragement throughout this grand adventure, both in writing and in life.
About the Author
S.A. Klopfenstein grew up on a steady dose of Tolkien and Star Wars. As a child, he wrote his first story about a sleepwalking serial killer. He lives in the American West with his wife and their dog, Iorek Byrnison. He can be found exploring the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, or daring the halls of the middle school where he teaches Language Arts.
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Visit authorsaklopfenstein.com
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