The Chosen (64 page)

Gagging, he threw his cup and spewed liquid all over the table, drawing shrieks from several of the girls and sounds of disgust from Luke and Daniel. But he ignored them for in the middle of the table, covered in water and his saliva, sat Lacey. His family erupted into laughter.

"If only you could see your face right now!" Luke laughed.

"B...but, how?" Matt asked flabbergasted.

"Gotcha!" Natalie crowed from several seats down.

Two Months Later

Generations of planning, destroyed. He hoped that whatever grave had been dug for the idiot Tanner had been shallow and ravaged by wild animals.

Lord Tanner should never have been recruited into the Brotherhood of Fire. His dying words to the Guardians when they had rescued Lady Kathryn had alerted the Guardians to the presence of his previously invisible society. And on top of all that the idiot had let another of the swords fall into their hands, letting the Guardians know that they weren’t the only ones with unstoppable weapons.

He hoped Lord Tanner burned forever in some fiery pit with no mercy.

Events that weren’t supposed to happen for years, events that had been planned for almost a score of years, refined countless times and worked out to the minutest detail, he had been forced to reevaluate and reorganize. His spy on the Guardian Council had kept him abreast of the developments of their investigation into his organization, including the ruling that had ordered all inquiries into the matter over. However, his spy had warned him that there were certain parties within the Council who didn’t agree with the ruling and were quietly continuing the investigation. He needed them distracted.

He hated the Guardians with every fiber of his being. They had taken everything from him and given him nothing in return. His life was nothing to him, the Brotherhood was everything. The Guardians needed to be destroyed and this was the first step.

Crawling slowly he made his way to the top of the ridge. When he reached the trees he stood slowly, blending in with the forest. This was the first execution he had scheduled for today. Tonight there would be one more. He waited patiently.

There! His target was walking with his wife through the royal gardens, no doubt celebrating something. The Queen always liked to celebrate something.

Taking a deep breath he pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it. Slowly he pulled the bowstring back and took aim—

That night, Selvin slowly picked his way along the narrow path. To his back, sharp stone ripped into his skin as he kept his body pressed tightly against the cliff wall. It was pain he was willing to endure considering the alternative. The path was barely half a meter wide and wound along the side of the sea cliff with an ancient shoreline high above. Below he could hear the sharp slapping of the waves as they hit the base of the cliff, but even more ominous he could hear the roaring crashes of the waves breaking over the multitude of rocks and sea stacks jutting up from beneath the tumultuous water. The pain in his back was a small price to pay to avoid being broken on the rocks below.

He felt his way along the cliff, darkness hid the path and neither of the moons were visible through the heavy cloud cover cloaking the landscape in blackness. Finally his searching fingers felt a hole in the cliff. Pulling himself inside, he breathed a sigh of relief. He hated the trip necessary to reach the Brotherhood’s gathering place.

More confident now that he wasn’t a heartbeat away from falling to his death, Selvin moved quickly through the tunnel
his footfalls falling dully on the damp rock. During his initial visits he had broken his nose several times before he had learned when the tunnel changed directions. Now, he easily navigated the dark path until, after turning a corner, his eyes were blinded by the sudden appearance of torches along the walls.

He had never learned how their leader kept the light of the torches from spilling around the corner, but he had also learned not to ask insignificant questions. Shivers ran up his spine just thinking about it. He vowed he would never make the same mistake that Talbor made. The dolt couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Resisting the urge to cover his nose to block the stench of rotting sea life and dank mold, he hurried forward. To be late would be to forfeit his life.

Three more turns and a long hallway found him standing before an intricately carved wooden door. While the craftsmanship was breathtaking, the scenes depicted on the door would have unnerved even the most experienced of campaigners. There were images of men and women being tortured in various ways. Vines that had the heads of snakes curled around victims, their fangs a heartbeat away from the fatal bite. There were other images of creatures and tortures that Selvin had not recognized, but just looking at them made his skin crawl.

He opened the door and stepped into the room beyond. It was a circular room with blood red curtains hanging on the wall every four meters. In the center of the room a stone fire pit had been dug out. As near as Selvin knew, the fire that burned within the pit never went out. The flames licked out of the pit and reached upward several meters, illuminating the room.

Directly across from the door was a raised platform, upon which one lone throne stood. The stone the chair had been hewn from was as black as the tunnels had been, but it was covered in blood and fire jewels. Blood jewels, deep red with black veins running through them, were highly prized by the noble class, but fire jewels were forbidden to all but the king. At first glance, fire jewels appeared to be nothing more than a clear crystal, but when one looked closer, the observer would see a raging fire contained within the crystal. The flames ranged from red to white to blue. The black background of the chair enhanced the flames of the gems and made them normally visible, even from across the room.

But tonight he couldn’t see the gems, he couldn’t even see the chair. Instead, his attention was drawn to the three cloaked figures, standing on the dais, obscuring his view of the throne. He knew these men, they were the leaders of the Brotherhood. Their cloaks were black but were covered in flames that refused to burn through the cloth they covered. As he approached, Selvin could feel the heat from the fire pit on his back and the heat from the cloaks on his face.

Selvin knelt and touched his forehead to the cold, wet stone beneath his feet. “My Liege.”

“I am disappointed in you.”

Selvin winced. The cultured voice was carefully controlled, not allowing him to glimpse just how disappointed his master was.

He opted for the ignorant approach. “My Liege?”

The voiced hissed, “You have failed me.”

“Please, My Liege…” Selvin started to protest but cut off his protest when fire coursed through his body in waves.

“Your assignment was simple, destroy the Dragons and keep Lord Tanner under control,” The voice said harshly. “Instead the Dragons are stronger than ever and Lord Tanner’s actions have cost this Brotherhood dearly. And you have lost your sword…again.”

“I found it the first time,” Selvin protested weakly.

“I found it,” his master corrected. “And I gave it back to you without requiring blood payment.”

Selvin winced. To create the magical swords that could withstand the attack of a Guardian sword, the Brotherhood had resorted to old magic thought to have been lost for centuries. It required the new sword’s owner to sacrifice part of his body during the smelting process. It was the blood of the owner that gave the sword the red veins and only lived as long as the one who donated the blood. Once the owner died, the sword would dissolve into blood. Selvin had given the tip of his little finger and at his master’s reminder the phantom tip began to throb as it had the day it came off.

“I will not fail you again, master,” Selvin promised. He waited in silence for several long moments before his master uttered two slow words.

“I know.”

Two simple words. From a teacher to a student they could have been seen as words of encouragement, but from master to servant, they were deadly ominous.

Before Selvin could reply he heard the flap of heavy fabric and the room was suddenly filled with the strong scent of Gredenia flowers. A low growl sounded from behind him and he couldn’t help himself. Selvin turned to look.

His blood froze in his veins and all the strength fled from his body. “Wh—wha—what…?!”

“Do you like my new pet?” His master asked softly. “It has taken me years to find it. All but the Brotherhood believed it to be a myth, but we knew better.”

Selvin felt terror unlike anything he’d ever imagined. “Tha—that’s…impossible!” He turned to face the hooded figures on the dais in time to see his master nod.

In the space of a heartbeat the nightmare was on him and its claws were wrapped around his body. “Master, please!” Selvin begged as he desperately struggled.

Pain blossomed in his lower back and then nothing. A glance down showed that despite Selvin’s mental commands, his legs remained as limp and unmoving as a doll’s. More pain, just below his neck and Selvin found himself paralyzed from the neck down.

Helpless he could only watch in horror as the creature unhooked its massive jaws and force them over his head. Selvin could feel the hot wet sticky salvia as his body— no, its body was pulled over him. The curved needle-like teeth dug deep furrows into his scalp. The pain flared once more, and then darkness

The Master watched silently as his new weapon finished with his worthless servant. Satisfied with the display he ordered it back to the holding pen.

“You have come a long way with it,” one of his companions observed.

“With it at our side, we cannot lose,” the second said confidently.

“Now that my earlier mission has been completed, we are ready to begin the next phase,” The Master agreed. “It is time to unleash our new weapon.”

Radian—A unit of time similar to an earth hour

There are 26 radians in one day

The calendar is comprised of thirteen months, each with twenty-eight days. Once every four years there is an extra day added at the beginning of each year. It is considered a free day and not a part of the yearly day count. The twenty-eight days are divided into four weeks.

Two moons are visible in the sky. Firea is the smaller of the moons, purple in hue, with a three week cycle. Niea is the larger of the moons, red in color, with a six week cycle.

Days of the week: Lumbar, Nénar, Ambar, Tancol, Carnil, Elemmírë, Luinil

Months of the Year:

Spring
:             

Narvinyë—Dark Moon

Nárië—Growing Moon

Cermië—Flower Moon

Summer
:

Urimë—Mead Moon

Lótessë—Lightning Moon

Víressë—Honey Moon

Fall
:

Hísimë—Storm Moon

Narquelië—Blood Moon

Súlimë—Harvest Moon

Winter
:

Nénimë—Winter Moon

Yavannië—Frost Moon

Nénarë—Old Moon

Airë—New Moon

There are seven major holidays in each year:

New Year’s Day: First day of Narvinyë

Festival of the Moons: Third day of Cermië

Girl’s Day: Fifth day of Lótessë

Boy’s Day: Seventh day of Hísimë

Festival of Stars: Ninth day of Súlimë

Festival of the Solstice: Thirteenth day of Airë

Day of Cleansing: Twenty-eighth day of Airë