by D. E. Morris
Don't miss the exciting beginning to the “Age of Valor” series,
“Heritage!”
“The story hits the ground running ... before building up again to a colossal climax. The action and adventure scenes ... are well-drawn, suspenseful, and engaging, and Morris definitely knows how to keep readers on the edges of their seats during moments of high tension and crisis.”
~ Alex Genetti - Medium/Message.org
“I laughed, I cried...and She took my heart and placed it inside each and every character, making me feel as though I was a part of her story.
I HIGHLY recommend this to all people of all ages.”
~ Lisa Kerekish – Business Office Manager
“Great adventure book; starting from page one.”
Nancy Clement – Financial Guru
“The characters are captivating. The journey is expansive. “
Marie Landrosch -
“The descriptions are vivid enough to make the reader feel as though they're standing next to the characters themselves...”
Benson Ray – U.S. Air Force
“Those who enjoy Fantasy fiction would do well to give this book and its sequels a good look. D. E. Morris is injecting a new vision into the genre even while she continues to use some of the well worn staples. “
Alledria Hurt – Author of Chains of Fate
Age of Valor:
Awakening
D. E. Morris
CreateSpace
Copyright © 2016 D. E. Morris
Cover art by Niken Anindita
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: April 2016
ISBN: 1530600529
ISBN-13: 978-1530600526
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
To Mom,
Thank you for always believing in me.
Acknowledgments
There are a lot of people without whose help I might never have gotten this book finished. They all deserve recognition and many more thanks than I could ever properly express.
First and foremost, I thank God for this incredible story He has trusted me with. Without the inspiration He gives me on a daily basis, all of my stories would be stuck in my head and never shared with the world. I'm so blessed to be made in my Father's image – a creator like Him.
Huge, ginormous, ridiculously enthusiastic thanks must also go to my editor, Jessica. Thank you for putting up with my whining, hysterics, and horrible grammar. You made a dusty old stone into a polished diamond, even when I fought against you. I love you so very much! In this department, thanks also go to Nancy, who saw this story before anyone else did, and gave me the encouragement I needed to continue.
I have to give a shout out to my amazingly creative nephew, Connor. When I was battling some serious writer's block, he came along and cleared some things up for me in ways I couldn't have expected. Thanks, Little Bear!
To my dad, who never got tired of my questions and helped me try to keep certain things authentic. You're kind of okay. I'll keep you awhile longer. MWAH!
Lastly, I have to give a rather large shout of thanks to the “Age of Valor: Heritage” audio drama cast for inspiring so very many things in this book. Each cast meting we had gave me new ideas, and I'd be stuck in a rut without you. Love you all, and remember, it's “FOR ALL THE LENTILS!”
Chapter One
There was a dull taste in her mouth of old blood and dried saliva. Her neck was stiff and more energy was needed to lift her head than she possessed. Nealie wanted to open her eyes but exhaustion was a terrible weight upon her. She could feel the hard surface of the chair she sat on; the rough abrasiveness of the rope around her wrists. The gag in her mouth was pulled so tightly that her teeth bore into her cheeks and the knot where it was tied put pressure into the back of her head.
Somewhere close by was the distinct and rhythmic sound of water dripping. This gave her hope. She was, after all, the Elemental Dragon of Water. Whoever was holding her captive must not be aware that water was the very thing from which she drew all of her strength. If there was enough she could disappear through it. The thought, however, came much more easily than the action itself. As it was she couldn't even muster the strength to summon fyre, as action as easy as breathing to an Elemental, and free herself.
Nealie finally opened her eyes through sheer stubborn will. A curtain of red hair covered half of her face, but with one emerald eye unobstructed she was able to get an idea of her surroundings. Everything was blurry and swam before her, making her stomach turn. The stone chamber she occupied was no bigger than a prison cell, yet there appeared to be no door.
In a sluggish roll of her head, Nealie managed to muster enough motivation to keep her head up and get a better look around. She was desperate to find the source of the dripping sound. It didn’t matter that she was tied to a chair and didn’t have energy enough to struggle, let alone shift her form so she could break away. If she could find the water it would be one step closer to freedom.
Behind her, the elusive door she’d sought opened and sent in a cold rush of air that made her shiver.
“So you’re awake.”
Nealie gave her head a single hard shake to move her hair from her face and immediately regretted the decision. Her stomach tightened and convulsed. Her gag was pulled down in time for her to be sick all over herself, but at least she wasn’t forced to keep it in her mouth.
A man crouched before her, young and attractive. He had brown hair and scruff on his chin and cheeks. His eyes were a mossy green and the look he wore would have been sympathetic were it not for the glib smile on his lips. “A side effect of your injection.”
“What have you done to me?” she demanded hoarsely.
“Drugged you, tied you up, brought you here.” His head tilted to the side, eyes glittering with laughter in the torchlight. “Do you not remember me?”
“Should I?”
The man clutched at his heart, a quiet gasp passing his lips. “Nealie. Beautiful, intelligent, spicy Nealie O’Dwyer. How you wound me!”
“Untie me and I'll do better than that. Promise.” Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?”
“You didn’t think this was just a random kidnapping, did you?” The man reached up and gently tucked the hair in Nealie’s face behind her ear. “I have known you for weeks now. What with your paranoia I would have assumed you would have noticed. Then again arrogance can be a strong condition, and why would you suspect someone as innocent looking as I?”
Nealie wet her lips with her tongue, cringing at the taste of vomit upon them. If only she had her full capacities. Hands tied or not, she could summon a liquid whip so sharp and so fast that he'd never see it coming. “How about some water? Even the harshest of prisoners is granted that luxury.”
The man made a clucking noise and shook his head. “Do I really look that stupid to you?” The humor on his face abated and his eyes turned cold. “At first I thought you were just too trusting. You accepted my help at the market without so much as a second glance at me. When you took the fruit I offered you, the peach that I said was the sweetest you’d ever taste, and bit right i
nto it I realized that it wasn’t trust. You thought yourself so far above everyone else that the very idea of someone seeking to do you harm seemed implausible.”
Watching his face, Nealie searched her memories. The market. It was one of the last things she could clearly recall. It had been a warm summer day and the farmers were out with fresh fruit in their stands. A man with a winsome smile and a delightful Ibayish accent had offered to carry her basket for her. He was not hard on the eye and looked a lot like someone she used to know, which had gone a long way in lowering her defenses around him.
Noting the look of recognition that lit her gaze, the man nodded. “You remember me now, don’t you?”
“I remember,” was her quiet reply. She held his gaze evenly, working her fingers at the binds on her wrists, feeling the bulk of the knot that held them secure. “You had cabbage in your mustache but wore the jerkin of a lord. Which means you either stole your clothing or no one in your house thinks highly enough of you to tell you when you look a fool in public.” Calculating, her eyes swept over him carefully, coldly. “Or perhaps you are both a thief and a fool.”
“Perhaps.” His lips twitched upward ever so slightly. “Try all you want to free yourself. Those are hawk jesses around your wrists. You won't break them with your nails alone.”
Frustration made her tug at the thick leather strips once more before she snarled and sagged back in her chair. Several words of condemnation flew through her mind but her lips only managed to form one word: “Why?”
“The answer to that is not uncomplicated. It would take a great deal of time to explain everything to you, and...” He trailed off, glancing around her to something out of her line of vision. “By the look of it you don’t have enough time left for the whole story. So, since it is truly a pity for anyone to die without understanding why their life is being taken, I’ll sum it up for you. Dragon meat is very expensive and the going rate for a seller these days is enough to buy me a lovely plot of land back home.”
“I am no ordinary dragon.”
“Oh,” he crooned, “I know. You’re the Elemental of Water.” The surprise slackened her jaw and made the man grin. “What do you think I’ll get for your bits then, eh?”
Nealie recovered quickly, brows drawing together in disgust. “Really? You’re going to kill me to sell me for meat? Better men than you have tried before and failed.”
“For meat, yes. And scales for armor, innards for potions and elixirs, heart for immortality. What I'm really after is your blood.” He took a tendril of her hair and twirled it around his finger. When she jerked her face to the side to try and snap at him, he only grinned and snatched his hand away. “That beautiful rare blood that can only be harvested from a shifted Elemental.”
She spat on the ground beside him. “I will not shift for you.”
“No need to worry about that one, love.” He winked. “I’ve got it all figured out.”
As he stood and walked around to the back of her chair, Nealie followed him as far as she could with her eyes. “You don’t really believe that consuming my heart will give you immortality, do you?”
“I know that. We both know it's just superstition, but the people that believe things like that are the ones willing to pay a disgusting amount of money for what they want.”
Something cool was forced through her veins, sapping what energy her anger had given her. She sagged against the chair, head dropping once more. “Don’t do this,” she whispered.
He came back around and squatted before her. Gently, he lifted her chin and examined her face. “So beautiful,” he said, his voice no louder than hers.
“Eat dwarf dung.”
“Sassy, too. Shame. Give me everything I want and I will consider letting you go. Eventually.”
She didn’t have enough strength to pull away from his touch so she stared into his eyes. “What else do you want?”
“The book.”
Her eyelids were getting heavy and Nealie fought to stay awake. Her thin brows came together as she blinked sluggishly. “What book?”
He shook his head, a smile running fleetingly across his lips. “You have very little time to play games with me, Nealie. As we speak your blood is being drained and replaced with a powerful elixir that will only keep you alive long enough to obey whatever command I give you.” She tried to jerk away, fear replacing anger and sending currents of adrenaline into her veins, but he grasped her chin tightly. “Tell me where the book is before you have been given too much and I may yet save you.”
“I don’t know what book you’re talking about!” The tears that filled her eyes were stinging and embarrassing, even in her current situation. Nealie had never been emotional and it had been well over fifteen years since she’d last shed a tear.
Her answer clearly disappointed him and he frowned. “That’s too bad.” His hand dropped and he rose once more to go to the back of her chair. “I guess now I’ll get to find out if immortality truly does exist or not.”
The coolness in her veins turned icy and she whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. When it abruptly went from ice to a blazing fire, she screamed louder than she knew was humanly possible.
Chapter Two
The Isle of Mirasean sat in the middle of the triangle that Ibays, Siness, and Caedia formed, almost fully enclosed within the protection of the bigger nations. The entirety of the island could be traveled in one day and there was always a salty breeze wafting off the ocean. Ashlynn Stuart, High Queen of Siness, had never been to Mirasean before. Standing on one of its many beaches, she finally understood what she had been missing. With only elves living in the small country she hadn’t been sure what to expect. Tasarin, her oldest friend and the most trusted adviser for three generations of her family, was the only elf she’d ever really known. As far as she understood, there was not much difference between the way he lived and the way she lived. Yes, the elves were sleek and beautiful, and had distinctly pointed ears. She knew they had enhanced senses and could live forever if they were not killed. By nature they were passive, choosing peace over war when possible. Yet Ashlynn knew there was much more to this serene race than met the eye.
For an outsider or someone lacking knowledge, arrival upon Mirasean would show numerous acres of forest. Passing the boundary of the trees would reveal an organic village of homes and rivers, all worked into and around the natural habitat of the island. As a rule, the elves took as little as they could from the earth that could not somehow be given back. They cherished all life as though it were their very own and their gentility sometimes led people to believe all elves to be lacking in both personality and wit.
Tasarin had a sense of humor and Ashlynn was worried at first that it was only because he’d lived among humans for so long. She was pleased to find this was not the case and rather enjoyed the lengthy conversations she’d been having since her arrival three days ago.
There was no High King or Queen on Mirasean. A chain of government held themselves above the rest of their people in only the most dire of circumstances. They were alone in their own world and Ashlynn would have been lying if she said she didn’t envy their peace.
Before the evening's events on her last full day on the island, she’d decided to take a walk along the shore. The sun was high, but the breeze kept her comfortable. Still, she tired easily these days and didn’t walk far; rather, she sat in the sand to enjoy the sound of the ocean waves. In her arms was a baby with golden hair and big blue eyes. He looked up at Ashlynn and grabbed at the dangling pearls in her ears, determined to pull them into his mouth.
“You can't have those,” she cooed to the baby, adjusting him so he sat on her lap. He babbled and flapped his arms, hitting her rounded stomach. “Easy.” The baby laughed and flapped his arms again, this time kicking his legs so that his chubby little body bounced. “Look at you, already trying to launch yourself into the sky.” She drew him close and showered kisses onto his face. “Flying is in your blood,” she whispered, smiling. “
You'll get there soon, little one.”
The baby giggled and squirmed, grabbing for her earrings again.
“Careful, you’ll lose an ear.”
Ashlynn looked up, hearing a familiar deep and rumbling voice. She smiled at Cavalon walking toward her but quickly turned her attention back to the baby she held. “He can't help it,” she said in a lilting voice. “He just wants to put everything in his mouth. Right, little one?” The baby screeched and smiled, loving the attention he was getting. “I thought I saw you flying around up there,” she said to Cavalon. Looking up at him once more, her expression was reserved. “Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked lightly. Reaching down, he took the baby from Ashlynn and tossed him in the air, stubby little white feathered wings on the baby’s back fluttering madly as he screamed his delight. “I just needed to fly. Sometimes you just have to fly, don’t you, little man?”
Ashlynn sighed and leaned back on her hands. “He's getting so big.”
“I know,” Cavalon rumbled. He tossed the baby in the air once more, then snuggled him close. “Every time I look at him it’s like I’ve missed a growth spurt.”
The baby nuzzled against Cavalon as the Badarian sat next to Ashlynn. She smiled softly. “He loves you.”
“I love him,” Cavalon admitted easily. “I didn’t expect to get so attached.”
“Everyone loves Lucien,” sang Ashlynn.
Cavalon chuckled. “You say his name like a Caedian.”
“I know.” Adopting a thicker foreign accent, Ashlynn said, “I simply do not have the ability to say it like Nuala.” She ran a hand over Lucien’s fine golden hair. “I love his name, though, and that it means 'light.' His father would have approved.” Her smile slowly disappeared. “How is Nuala? I haven't had much time to speak with her.”