Shadow of the Arisen: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel (Lands of Wanderlust Book 1)

by Paul Yoder

  “In my land, we call underlings, Oni. They are rare, but there are tales of them from centuries past, and they were horrible creatures of fear and destruction.

  “The wielder of an illimoth blade only stabs those who they see as a powerful opponent or as a potentially useful ally.

  “Telenthlanor is said to have a breeding pit of praven in his plane of ash, a hellish place where he breeds underling praven. They have their own name for praven type underlings—greyoldors—which we all already know a bit about. He uses greyoldors for his servants in other realms. The greyoldor we fought was one of those servants, brought here to this plane to serve his master.”

  Pausing for a moment, a gut-churning look of disgust clear on his face, Nomad pressed on to finish his thought.

  “Though Lashik is gone, it seems his mission of death is still afoot in me.”

  Reza, refusing to accept defeat over the dire explanation, said, “Well there must be a way to reverse its effects. Henarus showed us that it can be done. We just need to find someone with greater capabilities than he.”

  “Henarus is a prophet of Hassome—no small deity,” Nomad said, frustration beginning to sound through.

  “Even in my lands, we know of Hassome. The only ones in Henarus’ order above him are the five seers. If the curse is reversible at all, it would require the aid of those with incredible influence in the realm of divine hexweave. Who else can I go to for such a tall request? Henarus had reason to grant audience to me, but to anyone outside of the Plainstate, I am but a wandering passerby—a nomad. I have no connections to gods and goddesses.”

  Dropping Arie’s held hand, Nomad slowly made his way to one of the empty sofas, falling into its cushions for a soft rebound, the rest of the group giving thought to the difficult case against hope Nomad had made against himself.

  Cavok’s voice almost made the group collectively jump as he loudly proclaimed, “Just cut that chunk of flesh out.”

  Nomad’s response was quick, as though he had already considered the option.

  “The taint runs deep. Henarus told me during the cleansing that it remains momentarily dormant on the outer edges of its spread, which bores deep into my core. It seems I waited too late to come to him. He said that if I had visited soon after I received the wound, that he might have been able to completely remove the curse, but now it’s too prevalent.”

  Resting a sun-sapped hand over his eyes, trying to rub away the weariness from him from the short time he had been out in the blaring desert sun, Nomad let out a sigh as Reza took a stab at a solution to his condition.

  “You may not have connections to the gods, but I do.”

  Meriting an interested look from everyone, Reza continued.

  “Even the youngest amongst my kind have extraordinary healing abilities, that is what my people are best known for. Though I wasn’t able to completely heal your wound, I am young, and to be honest, never focused my studies on my kind’s innate ability to heal. I am still quite inexperienced there, but I know many in my order, and they, I’m sure, could help. I’ve never heard of an ailment that Sareth has not been able to heal.”

  Nomad looked up, a glint of hope in his eyes, daring for a moment to consider an escape from his doomed future.

  “There is a monastery in the Jeenyre mountains. It’s a month-long journey northeast of here, but it’s the closest Sareth establishment I am known at. The high priestess there would grant me the favor of healing you if it is within her power to do so. I would make the trip with you. You, after all, trekked with me on my mission of your own free will. I am, to a degree, responsible for the weight of that wound you now carry. I’ll do anything I can to help you see it removed.”

  Reza’s tone was determined, her mind, Nomad could tell, already made up that that was the course of action they were to take.

  “A month’s journey there, a month back, perhaps more depending on the weather. Winter is coming on soon, and the Jeenyre mountains receive a great deal of snowfall during the end of autumn. That, along with recovery time, you might be stuck up there through the winter months,” Fin offered, figuring through the details of the trek with the group.

  “What do you mean, you? You meant we, right?” Cavok corrected.

  “No,” Nomad ordered, shutting down Cavok’s offer for help, adding to try and soften the disapproval, “If I am to go, I prefer it to be only Reza that comes on that journey. You all have lives here now. Arie, you have a two-week long expedition coming up in three days. Fin, Metus has been using you extensively to expose high-priority criminals and illegal operations. Cavok, you have rank in the military’s ranger branch. You have people that rely on you, jobs that need doing. Reza and I are the only two that don’t have obligations or duties currently. I could not ask a half of a year of your lives.”

  “Well, say the word and the military be damned. Too stiff a lifestyle for me anyways. We’ve got your back if you wanted us along. Just know that,” Cavok replied, Fin giving a wink and a smirk to let Nomad know that he held the same sentiment.

  The offer and ready response from his two friends left an unwitting smile across Nomad’s face.

  Slowly looking over to Arie, wondering how she was taking all the talk of the quickly developing plans and journey, he immediately saw that she was not pleased with some aspect of the discussion.

  Her speckled, striking silver and green eyes were boring into him, calculating, her usual playful, caring personality that she only rarely showed to others besides him, that he had come to so enjoy, was a distant trait, her keen haltia half figuring how she would respond to him.

  “Arie, you should stay. Metus depends on you a great deal, and with luck, I will be back with Reza within a few months, healthy. I prefer not to ask the hassle of this trip upon anyone else,” Nomad said, placing his hand in hers.

  “Anyone else, but Reza,” Arie was quick to add.

  An uneasy stillness settled in the lobby, Nomad looking down for a moment before voicing, “Yes. If she is willing to show me to her superiors, then I will gladly accept the offer.”

  Arie, gently releasing his hand from hers, said, “Then perhaps it is best that you two go alone. I would hate for you to inconvenience any of your worried friends whom willingly offer you their companionship.”

  Arie, departing even before she finished her statement, left the room once again in a stillness, that this time, no one readily broke.

  Looking over to Reza, a strain of gloom peeking through Nomad’s attempt at composure, Reza leaned forward, somewhat awkwardly offering him a reassuring hand and a comforting look.

  “Well,” Fin finally said, getting up, Cavok following his lead, “if you reconsider your travel company, let us know. If not—well—best of luck to you, Nomad. We’ll see you when you get back.”

  Walking out the door, the two men left Nomad and Reza alone in the lobby, Reza’s warm hand still in Nomad’s palm.

  49

  The Open Road

  “Ready?” Nomad asked Reza, standing before her chamber door, well before the sun had risen.

  His disposition was actually bright for a change, she noticed. Anymore, the times that she had seen Nomad around the palace grounds, he was either continually warn out, or depressed. It was a nice change to see him beaming.

  “Yes, I packed last night. Let me grab some fruit for the road. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

  Rushing back inside, snatching a handful of figs and apricots, she threw some in her satchel before looking herself over in the mirror to double-check that she was wearing everything she needed for the long journey.

  She had not yet taken Metus up on his offer for his finest blacksmiths to craft her a personalized plate armor set, but thankfully, she wasn’t going to need it on their journey. They were not expecting battle, and traveling in plate armor was awfully cumbersome and unnecessary for travel along well-used roads.

  She had, with a small portion of her reward from Metus,
bought some durable traveler’s garb. A fine, thick, compressed cloth gambeson covered her stomach and hips, creating a lower tunic, with her upper chest donned in a very light chainmail, fitting over a black velvet top upon which a thin, silver gorget rested, connecting to a pair of scale pauldrons.

  Tugging on her long gloves and her thigh-high leather boots, securing her wide belt where her longsword that Metus had given her and a newly acquired dagger she had had crafted from the leftover ingot of the same steel the sword was made from to accompany the elegant sword, she hopped out of her door for the last time for months to come.

  Her braided hair bobbed as she passed Nomad, who himself seemed to have also obtained a new outfit just for the journey.

  She was used to seeing him in local, traditional style apparel, usually loose, flowing silk that opened freely to show his toned, tan body, but now he wore a leather harness that was tied over his neck and chest, thick stitching weaving around key curves to accentuate a fine figure. Thick leather protected his shoulders and hips, large belt loops hanging down from his waistband to help carry plenty of extra pouches and gear. The harness seemed to take the weight of his load from his whole upper body rather than just his hips. From beneath his harness ran a handsome aketon and undergarment, trim and sloped downward in a V shape. His arms and legs were covered by regional loose, soft fabrics, his old sword still by his side, which she rarely saw him without, even when out and about in the city.

  The two made their way to the city’s borders, Nomad chatting with her a little here and there on the way, Reza noticing that his grasp of Callatum, the regional language, had over the past few months become more familiar and natural to him.

  Leaving Sheaf on horseback, they trotted out along the hardened sand road to the north.

  The last of the cool, pre-morning air swept over the two, the last remaining stars disappearing from the brightening sky, deep pastels accenting the red and yellow landscape that stretched out for miles before them.

  They’d be crossing it all—all they could see and more before making it to the Jeenyre mountains so many miles and weeks away.

  Their beginnings along the desert road had been quiet, neither saying much as they began the first few hours of their journey; but Nomad, just before the sun began to rise to their left, said something offhandedly.

  “A fair night it was,” he offered, looking lazily over to her, locking gazes for a moment before the newly cresting sun caught her eye, causing her to squint.

  “The sun is not nearly as forgiving these days, is it,” he spoke in a low tone, grimacing through the brightness of the morning sun.

  As he turned back to face the road, Reza could discern the slightest hint of discontentment at the coming of the new day.

  From THE AUTHOR

  I’ve been dying to publish this novel from the very start of it. Somewhere around chapter five, I realized that this world, this cast of characters, this genre, was what I was going to stick with for a very long time. I became enchanted with the idea of this series and realm quite early on.

  This first book is only the beginning, and that thought is an exciting one. I can’t wait to see what comes of these characters, and what of the new ones that’ll be introduced in the following books.

  I hope you enjoyed the first novel as much as I did. More books in the series soon to come! Follow me at the links below!

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