by Alex H Singh
Lamp of Light
Fallen Kingdoms Chronicles
Alex H. Singh
Edited by
Sara Miller
Illustrated by
Sanja Gombar
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
About the Author
This series is dedicated to those who want to lose their thoughts into a world full of magic, love and adventure.
And it all starts when you flip the very first page.
Enjoy :)
All Rights Reserved.
Lamp of Light © 2017 Alex H. Singh
Edited by Sara Miller
Cover art by Sanja Gombar
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, product names, or featured names are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
With the exception of quotes for the purpose of reviewing this book, this book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher/author.
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Prologue
Present Day: Kingdom of Tibethia. Forest.
The leaves danced in the breeze as the wind picked up. From a distance off, an owl ominously hooted as if it sensed a sudden shift in the overall atmosphere in the serene forest. Nocturnal creatures of the woodland scampered around as they began their search for food and other forms of sustenance, having risen from their daytime slumber. The moon overhead cast a silvery glow across the forest, which set the stage for the night. The whistling wind carried the scent of pine and wet grass, mixed in smoothly with fresh, moist earth. Birds of prey flew overhead, using the cover of night to hide their attacks. Even blanketed by the shadows of darkness, the forest was never truly asleep.
A snake slithered deep into the grass and caught sight of a potential meal. The target, a squirrel, innocently gathered some fallen nuts, unaware of the danger about to befall it. Up above, another predator eyed the squirrel, putting it squarely in the middle of the devil and the deep blue sea. Sensing that it was not the only one gunning for this quick meal, the snake lurched forward to make its attack, but in the blink of an eye, the predator, an owl, swooped down from the skies. In the most theatrical of fashions, the squirrel was snatched from sight. Accepting this defeat without a hint of regret, the snake slithered away to search for an alternate source of nourishment.
The snake was startled as a branch cracked just beside it, diverting its path into the nearby lush greenery. It sought shelter from what might possibly prove to be another predator after nourishment of its own.
A woman breezed past, unaware that the snake was mere inches from her feet. She was running from something far worse than the serpent, and she knew it. She gasped for breath as she struggled against her own body’s need for rest. The woman labored on and her lungs screamed as she sought to put as much distance between herself and the evil on its way intent to destroy her. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and the salty bite of sweat as she soldered on. She crashed into extended branches and stepped on stones in her bid to escape. Her hair billowed all around her face, partially obstructing her vision, but she ignored it, and her bare feet throbbed with pain as she ran, and she ignored that, too. What was a sore foot in the grand scheme of things? Her sense of self-preservation was high as she bounded through the thicket like a woman gone mad.
Blood slowly trickled down the side of her face. A cut on her cheek had barely registered to pain receptors that were now coated in adrenaline. As the blood trailed down, some of it was caught by loose strands of hair, and tiny droplets splattered onto her tattered shirt. As she pressed on, a low-hanging branch scraped her leg and abraded the skin, but she didn’t stop. She clenched her teeth against the pain and continued running. She intended to give her pursuers as wide berth as her body could possibly allow, and her muscles screamed in pain, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. The necklace she wore around her neck had an eerie glow, seen clearly once it had been struck by moonlight, but she couldn’t stop to admire its light, as she was certain by now that her absence would have been noticed. She leaped over a fallen log, but she mistimed her lunge and tripped, crashing into the muddy floor. Without much thought, she jumped back up and brushed the dirt and leaves off her body as she made her way toward her destination.
As she ran, the blood thrummed in her ears, and her mind strayed far away, at the beginning of the string of events that led to her current predicament. There was no way she could have envisioned this turn of events. What had started as an effort at solidarity and peace, a joining of powerful families to save a dying kingdom, had steadily dissolved, and revealed an evil of tremendous proportions that she could never have anticipated.
They say evil comes in many forms and she knew now that she had met its true form.
As she made her way through the winding forest, Queen Esther Anna flashed back…
Chapter 1
Four years prior: Kingdom of Dormality. Castle grounds.
King Maurice stared at the report with a grim expression overlapping his normally somber features. He dropped the parchment on his throne and dismissed the chief of accounts who bowed and left briskly. It was clear he didn’t wish to remain in the king’s presence for much longer… not after delivering such terrible news. He watched the man leave, unbothered by his haste, but he was not in a good mood. He strolled over to the window and looked down. The throne room window was positioned in such a way that he had a beautiful view of the palace grounds as well as a good part of the kingdom as if it were his own personal eye in the sky.
Activities carried on normally down below: Farmers carted their produce to the market, traders opened their stores to receive the goods, and customers made their way to the market to go about their daily shopping as a routine, a cycle of life. The king watched a particularly enthusiastic youth pull a cart with vigor as he made his way to the market. Soon enough, he crashed into an equally enthusiastic youth who was on his way out. The king looked away for a moment as the impact sent the cart of produce toppling over. When he looked back, however, he was pleased to see them assisting one another, like comrades, and they rearranged the goods back on the cart.
He smiled slightly, unable to stop the comparison that arose in his head. He was the enthusiastic youth running his kingdom with vigor that came with that age, not minding all the many things that could go wrong. Not that he was a bad youth, just a tad careless at times. Now, just as the cart had fallen over rather unceremoniously, his kingdom… He shook his head, unable to continue down that train of thought. The deed was done, there was no going back, now, what he had to do was find a way around the issue.
Yes, solutions. That was exactly what they needed.
He directed the guards to call the chief of accounts back, requesting that he bring along his man in charge of revenue generating policies. The king looked through the window once more and the guards went away to carry out their king’s demand.
The youths had finished cleaning up, and were now conversing, exchanging jokes amidst hearty laughter bef
ore going their separate ways. The king took solace in their small encounter. Everything would be fine. With a little quick action on his part, nobody in the kingdom, or outside of it for that matter, would know that the Kingdom of Dormality was insolvent.
Nobody had to know.
The chief of accounts fidgeted where he stood as he wondered how the king would react to the proposal, and his partner stood beside him and looked equally nervous.
The king was a good man, but he would have to make the challenging decisions that came with his title, and this was one of them. He was to ensure that his people were as comfortable as possible, often reducing taxes when his routine disguised walk across the kingdom showed too many people suffering in these grim times. At this rate, even the palace was going to start experiencing the hardships of cutbacks.
Over and over, King Maurice read the proposal and felt a squeeze in his chest. He never expected that a tax increase would be the only way. As far as he was concerned, his people were already overtaxed, and a further increase would cause some families to go hungry. On a good day, he would have immediately torn the proposal and sent its bearers out, but this was not one of those days. The king was grateful that his account handlers noticed it early on, though he wondered what would have happened if the matter had gone unchecked.
He sighed, if only they knew. Revealing the true state of the kingdom would cause panic. He cringed inwardly as he began to analyze the positive side of the tax increase, as he knew the people would not see it that way. They would be quick to assume that the king had fallen prey to the manipulations of members of his council.
One of the men cleared his throat and shuffled a few steps forward. “Y… your majesty?”
The king looked up briskly and the man jumped back, mistaking the steely expression for anger rather than what it truly was: Pain. He stared at the man wordlessly, and then returned to his silent scrutiny of the proposal and how the money would be appropriated. It was a long-term plan, but in the long run his people would be better for it. Wasn’t that his job as king? To make sure they had the best, no matter the cost? Now more than ever, he wished that the queen were still alive. His late wife had been his rock and had a real eye for things like this. She would have taken one look at the proposal and known if it was something to pass or discard. Her unwavering support in times of crises had always been something he missed terribly.
Then, his mind went to his daughter, Esther Anna. He knew if anyone missed his late wife as much as he did, it was her.
Maurice just hoped that in a couple of years his actions would be justified.
He sighed and looked at the man standing before him. He could see the hopeful glint in his eye and he sighed again, and signed the document, before handing it over.
“Do it.” The king finally spoke, and the two men hurried out. King Maurice stared after them, wondering if he’d truly done what was best for the kingdom. He consoled himself with the knowledge that if there had been any other way, he would have taken it. After a moment, he straightened up and adjusted his expression. He was king, doing this for their own good and if they complained, called him evil, then so be it. In time, they would realize the folly of their ways and sing his praises once more.
Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.
It was overcast in the Kingdom of Dormality, with a grey tinge that was less of a reflection of the weather and more like an aura among the people. A year had passed since the taxes had been increased, and things had only gotten worse for the people. The land had depreciated so terribly that the more spiritual members of the kingdom attributed it to the gods; deities that claimed the people had sinned and somehow offended them, requiring various means of appeasement. The ground seemed to be angry with them, as the crops it produced were either too small or less than appealing to the taste buds. The palace was flooded every single day with members of the community and numerous complaints about the poor state of the land.
King Maurice sat on his throne and watched as his guards escorted in the next citizen in line. It could have been the hundredth person, but he lost count. It was a young man who looked bedraggled at best. His clothes hung off his shoulders as those on a scarecrow would and his cheeks were sunken, as if he would topple over at any point. The boy looked vaguely familiar, but with other concerns on his mind, the king overlooked that thought. He instantly ordered that a chair be brought in for the boy along with some water and cheese and some slabs of homemade bread, and the youth immediately ate the meal and gulped down the water, and soon after fell to his knees to thank the king.
“Thank you, your majesty.” He said, bowing. After the king waved him up, the young man rose to his feet, and after the meal it was noticeable that he was standing a bit better now. “My King. I know that for the better part of the day, you have been given complaints about the kingdom. I am not here to do any of that. Your majesty, my father was a farmer of honest means. Taxes increased, and things became very difficult for us. Soon after that, he became ill and not long after, he died.”
As the king stared at the boy, he resisted the urge to shift in his throne, as he had to maintain his regal air. The boy’s face seemed familiar still, and he struggled with the memory of where he’d seen him before, but he couldn’t remember. He felt terrible for the boy’s father. His tax policy had failed miserably and soon enough, the king needed to open the castle stores to at least assist the people, but even that had proved insufficient. Now the kingdom survived on weak crops and most could not afford to pay the taxes, which were still very much in effect. It seemed rather odd that things could have gotten so bad in just under a year.
You know what you must do, an inner voice said, referring to something his chief advisor had told him the previous day. It was something he didn’t even want to consider. But do you really have a choice?
The king shook his head, returning his attention to the boy. His face was in his memory, but the recollection of his face eluded him. He prepared himself for whatever it was the boy wanted to say, not expecting it to be good in any way. Nobody had anything good to say all day.
“Your majesty, I’m here to tell you that I trust in your judgment. My father told me many stories of how you’d saved the kingdom even before I was born, and I know things were not always this bad. He had faith in you, and so do I, your majesty. I know you have a plan to save us once more, I only ask sir, with all due respect, that you do it with haste, sir, so no other family should suffer through the same loss. Thank you for granting me an audience.” The boy bowed and turned to leave.
The king stared at him in awe and open admiration, losing the cool demeanor with which he had addressed everyone else. He suddenly remembered where he’d seen that boy before. Just a year ago, while he stood at the eye in the sky, the king watched as two boys collided carts in the market. That had to be him, he knew. The king was stunned. He had expected some form of respectful admonishment, a plea for assistance or questions about his plans for the kingdom. Anything really, except from what he’d just received, as the boy had just praised him. Even in this time of crisis, there were still people who trusted in his judgment. He couldn’t help but smile. This created urgency in finding an alternate plan to help the kingdom survive. He could not let such hope fall to waste.
King Maurice noticed then that everyone was watching his quiet reminiscing and he cleared his throat. “Send in the next one.”
Esther Anna laughed as Adam told another one of his jokes. This was one she’d heard many times, but it never seemed to get old. Perhaps it was the way Adam told it, or the story itself, but it always seemed fresh every time she heard it.
“Oh Adam, what would I do without you?” she asked as she hugged him.
Adam grinned. “A lot actually, I do tend to hold you back sometimes. You know how amazing you are right dear sister?”
“You’re amazing too.”
Esther Anna was twenty-four, and the spitting image of her late mother. It was so strong that sometimes her fa
ther slipped and called her the queen. She always smiled and took it as a compliment. The queen died giving birth to her, so she never had the opportunity of knowing her mother. Sometimes, her father would talk about his wife’s famous stubbornness. The stories always made her feel closer to her mother and he knew this, so he always told them. Her only brother Adam also told her tales and adventures and about other kingdoms. They always made her feel the need to travel and explore unfamiliar places and eventually she’d voiced this interest out loud. Adam promised to take her on his next outing, but sadly they hadn’t gotten around to it.
“Father is on his way up.” Adam said.
Before long, the king stepped into her room “My queen.”
Esther Anna smiled and rose to greet him. “Hello, father.” She hugged him and led him to a chair. “You’re finished talking to the people?” When she asked, she could see her father visibly flinch.
“Yes, my dear, for now. I shall continue tomorrow. It’s the least I can do, because at least like this, they feel like their voices are being heard. Giving them a sympathetic ear helps them.” King Maurice said, more to himself than to his daughter.
She nodded. Esther Anna was a very observant girl, aware of the suffering in her kingdom. From time to time, she left the palace under disguise, accompanied by Adam, and set out to hand out food to children on the streets and saw the deterioration of the kingdom before her eyes. She looked at her father and sighed deeply. He was starting to look older than he was, and the lines on his face seemed to grow deeper the more he worried about the state of the kingdom. Matters of state weighed heavily on him, and she wished there was something else she could do. She didn’t realize how long she’d been staring at him, and when his gaze caught hers and he looked away. He always looked tired these days, but as she examined her father’s expression now. It was clear that he was going through something else, bothered about something new, and she was curious to know what it was.