Haze of Dusk (A trilogy)

BOOK: Haze of Dusk (A trilogy)
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Haze
of Dusk

A trilogy

 

 

Copyright
©
2012 by Immer C.H

 

All right reserved.

 

 

This Novel is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

 

 

Any people depicted in the cover imagery is provided by Depositphoto and are models. Such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.         ©
Depositphotos.com/Heckmannoleg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-1- Rose to amend

-2- Converting

-3- Beyond ordinary

-4- Surroundings

-5- Distortion

-6- Disastrous actions

-7- Problematic

-8- Discontinue

-9- Finding truth

-10- Preparation

-11- Capricious

-12- Judyala’s Verdict

-13- Deadly Flames

-14- Breakable

-15- Haunted

-16- Manners

-17- Conflicts

-18- Untouchable

-19- Surge

-20- Falsehood

-21- Distance

-22- Deadly burden

-23- Opposite directions

-24- Territory

-25- Ally

-26- Discomfort

-27- At long last

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Nani and Alex

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

I didn’t think
running away from home would drain my life. The suns disturb my inhalation. I can’t breathe—I can’t move. I’m gradually vanishing with the heat rays, but it doesn’t matter anymore because if I die, I can be with Papa again. It’s because he died I left home. I overheard my step-mother cry to my instructor. She doesn’t want me.  She thinks I’m reckless. She only loves Jorsay, her real son. Without Papa I’m alone, without Papa there is no home. 

It’s been five days,
lacking food, and water, walking far from hometown in search of nothing. Perhaps for a moment I sought freedom from the tenderness my chest carries, but that can’t go—it won’t go away. It hurts too much, nothing can take it away. I drop to the filthy ground. I lie down with no strength. My beige dress and body is cover in dirt. My white skin is flush, irritated by the heat waves of the suns.

“Papa come back…please…don’t leave me alone…please,” I whisper. My eyes blur. My life gradually is being pulled from this world.
Dusk approaches, the sight is beautiful. The main sun is bigger, illuminating a prettier sight. The second sun is smaller, yet it is brighter. I think it’s what makes the world hotter.

My eyes
fall in exhaustion—a thumping on the ground boosts me back up. I squint around the pale ginger field. Fuzziness overtakes my sight. Even so, I see a figure rushing to me. I gasp, almost glad. Can it be someone sees me and came to save me?

I gaze at the figure. It’s near, but the closer
it comes, the faster I distinguish the being. My heart pounds in my chest and I swiftly stare stupor by my fright. I was wrong. Nobody came to save me but to bring me harm. Hurrying to me is a ten feet ogre with an axe.  His body carries such weight it shakes the earth. I wish to fight, use my special abilities, but my fear and fatigue won’t allow me to do anything but wait for the outcome.  He runs to me, swinging his axe—roaring as he heads my way. His skin is a dirty golden color, his face is frighteningly fiendish. I can see his teeth, all sharp like a lion. The ogre’s jaw sticks out, from below long fangs obtrude.

“Papa,” I whimper. I expect the worst, when a fearless boy appears from behind me. He runs to the ogre and jumps high—both his feet on the air. He smashes his feet on the ogre's chest, dropping the ogre to the ground in a shot. I
gawk, petrify by his skill, questioning his ability of putting down a nine hundred-pound monster. The boy runs back to me. I watch him speechless by his courageousness.

“Hurry, a lot more of them are coming,” his accent
is deep, like the people from the north, like my guardian Srogeri. I hold his hand, and I scuttle, but exhaustion catches up with me dropping me to the ground. He holds me. He doesn’t know me yet he worries for me. The boy takes me in his arms and carries me like a shining prince. His gentleness startles me. I feel good with him. I feel protected…even loved… like when with Papa. “You need water...” I’m not sure if he's asking or he's suggesting. We ascend to a high hill. I stay in his arms. I gape at him, still taken by his strength.

“We are safe now,” he murmurs, softly
putting me down. I look around.

We reach a mount far from the field, a place with many ston
e towers. “Are you good to walk?” he asks in a low voice. I blush, dreamy by his kindness. I push a nod. He grasps my hand and leads me to an alleyway. I’m taken by his good charms. His long straight-black hair is wet from the sweat. We walk further into the towers. Passing some dried trees we enter a place that takes my breath away.

My eyes capture the unreal, a waterfall. A place where the bit of water recklessly drops from above like a never-ending rainfall, streaming down the narrow pale blue river with colorful rocks that
obtrude from the water—laying on the ground as if making a pathway. The water that falls from the top scatters on the river dusting a smidgen of its life to the dying land.

“No-way!
Water.” I run to the water and drink from it. The water is fresh, nothing like the well from Duolic. The refreshment is so overwhelming I want to soak into the river. “This is wonderful. Is this real or magic?” I stop to ask. I heard stories of waterfalls that are maintained by elf magic, but never did I think to be fortunate enough to see one with my eyes. He squats down to my level and takes a handful of water, splashing it to his face.

“What is a girl doing here
on her own? That ogre would’ve cooked you alive.” He glimpses my way, now drinking from the waterway.  It’s the first time a boy other than my little brother stands near me. My cheeks redden. His attractive face gives me butterflies in my stomach. “You must have a death wish,” he murmurs. “I could’ve handled him,” I snap with lies, heaven knows how pathetic I was that moment. He grimaces. 

“By healing him to death,” he ridicules me. I stand straight, lift a hand and point it at the river. The water elevates and I gently twirl it
, turning it into a twist. I put my hand down dropping the water. I conceitedly look at him. He chuckles. “You’re a sorcerer…thought there weren’t any female conjurers but the creatures—”

“I’m not a creature!” I hiss. He mocks
me with laughter and sits down on the edge-surface of the waterway. “What is a little girl doing here by herself? Where are your parents?” His eyes remain on the stream.

“I’m not a little girl.
” I argue. I sit next to him. “And, I ran away from home.” I confess. His small eyes rise. He fixes his eyes on me.  “You… too…” he utters, again gazing at the water that sprinkles on our feet. “What do you mean? You ran away from your home too?”

“No,
I never had a home or parents. I was abandoned when I was born.” He establishes with such sadness it breaks me apart. “I ran away from Doomsvell. I’m a warrior there, but people die…everyone is dying. I guess I fear dying as well.” I pant noisily knowing what Doomsvell is, and understanding his tenderness.

“My father
, a great wizard died there too. It's why I ran away, because…I’m also alone. I have no one,” my eyes watered just thinking about it. His eyes meet mine.

“Sorry for your loss,
” he sinks his feet in the water. I partly smile and also stick my feet inside the water.
"Want to go for a swim before dark?" He asks in a rush, breaking the hopeless cycle. I timidly nod. I wish to feel released by the dirt that my body withholds. “By the way, I’m Khysso,” he shouts and jumps inside the stream.

I giggle. “I’m Judyala,” I say bashfully, contemplating on whether to enter or not, the water isn’t deep. It's his companionship I fear. “Judyala, it is strange but I like it. It's pretty,” his compliment brings out my boldness. “Come Judyala, what are you waiting for?”  I take a deep breath. I cover my nose and thoughtlessly hop i
nside the water. The refresh-sense stimulates my life.

Fifteen year old Khysso and I play around in the river by splashing water, and betting who can last longer underneath the water,
except, he always wins. When my fingers wrinkle because of the wetness, I get out of the river and rest my body on the ground. “How is Doomsvell?” I ask looking at the murky sky. He lies next to me, his hands behind his head.

“Irrational…I am hoping to get out of there soon. Travel the world, go to all plac
es.” I gasp. I sit up in a rush. “Me too, I want to travel the world! Can you come and get me? I will go with you. We can go to the north lands, east…west—” his laughter interrupts me. “What!”

“Do you know the danger that lies out there? The world out there is not for a girl. Besides, there are no female travel
lers.” I shake my head.

“I’ll be the first then. I can do it. I don’t fear. Can I join you,
pleaseee!” I insist. I set my hands together as if praying. “Alright, alright, you can come with me.”

“Yay, pinky promise,” I pull out my pinky. He sighs, and interlocks his finger with mine. “Done
, now let me take you home. It is getting late.” I bow down my head, sadden that it has come to an end.  I do miss Jorsay, and even Morgan.

I
gape around. I seek for something to keep as a memory. A bit more obscurity and the darkness will blur our figures from our vista. I stand and stroll to a dry-tree near us with many lengthy branches. I pull out my hair pin and with trouble I try to engrave my initials. Khysso walks towards me. He takes out a knife from his boot, and without questioning me, he initials my name, then his.


This tree is the reminder of your promise to me.”  


Very well, one day we shall meet. Now let us go,” he intends to obtain my hand, but I relax them on the tree. The pale-brown color slowly converts into a deep brown. The branches grow leaves that spread round the spot. The energy I give to the tree bushes me. I think I might stop. Ready to pull my hands away, he lays his hands on top of mine. I smile at Khysso. Combine with mine, he sends out to the tree a unique power. It’s there I grasp he’s also a sorcerer;
magic can be used without a staff.
The alteration ends. I scowl, what began like an oak tree, ended up being a palm tree.

“Huh…a
palm tree,
why?” He’s obviously stronger than me, because his idea possessed mine. He partially smiles. “It’s a coconut tree, where I come from there were plenty of dead ones. They are extinct. It does not matter. Nature’s magic law will eventually dissolve it. Why waste our powers in something that will fade?" I sigh and seize his warm hand. He stares at me bewildered. His green eyes fix on me. “In my heart, it won’t fade.” I whisper. His lip rises from a side. He says nothing but leads me far to his ride. To a beautiful blue eye creature that brings me curiosity. It’s not a horse, but a draghorn—a horse that resembles a dragon; with sharp claws, leathery wings and skin, and a long neck— a rare animal gifted to the apprentices of Doomsvell. 

What took days on foot, took Khysso a few hours. He lends me a hand. We rest by Duolic entrance. I get down from his
draghorn and stare at him sappily. He somewhat smiles. “So I guess… this is farewell,” he says.

“Not really, we’re
going to travel together, right?” He scoffs.

“That is if I make it out alive…people die in Doomsvell…” he says uncaring. As if death is amusing. I sh
ake my head in panic. “You cannot die, not after making a promise…” I gasp. An idea blossoms in me. “Wait…I have something that will protect you. My father gave it to me before he died…” I dig into my dress pocket and pull out a bright gem. “This is the Siren stone, it’s rare and—”

“Wow!” he stares
astonish, his eyes glimmer.

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