Zoran Chronicles Volume 1 A Dragon in Our Town

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Authors: Vic Broquard

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Zoran Chronicles Volume 1

A Dragon in Our Town

 

 

Vic Broquard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2008, 2009, 2012, 2014 by Vic Broquard

Third Printing

ISBN: 978-0-9801260-8-2

 

All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise)
without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

Published by:

Broquard eBooks

http://Broquard-eBooks.com

[email protected]

103 Timberlane

East Peoria, IL 61611

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Morgan and L. Ron Hubbard

 

 

Contents

 

 

Chapter 1 Decision Reached

 

Chapter 2 Starvation

 

Chapter 3 Many Meetings

 

Chapter 4 The Picking

 

Chapter 5 Beginning Lessons

 

Chapter 6 A Service

 

Chapter 7 Sholov Province

 

Chapter 8 Revelations and Actions

 

Chapter 9 Janos Lavos

 

Chapter 10 News from Home

 

Chapter 11 More Studies

 

Chapter 12 Kidnaped

 

Chapter 13 Fall’s Ups and Downs

 

Chapter 14 The Funeral of Baroness Katerina Vladislov

 

Chapter 15 Yuletide

 

Chapter 16 Activation

 

Chapter 17 Court Education

 

Chapter 18 Preparations

 

Chapter 19 The High Council

 

Chapter 20 Spring’s Problems

 

Chapter 21 Asami

 

Chapter 22 An Unexpected Visitor

 

Chapter 23 The Yeller Problem

 

Chapter 24 Enlightenment

 

Chapter 25 A Long Summer

 

Chapter 26 Fall High Council

 

Chapter 27 Winter’s Treason

 

Chapter 28 Aftermath

 

Chapter 29 The Spring High Council Meets

 

 

Chapter 1 Decision Reached

 

Cold and black was the night. An icy rain fell; rivulets ran down Zoran’s grey outer cloak
depositing even more water on his already soaked boots. The eighteen year olds pace
was rapid; all thoughts were on the Coddle Inn — its warm fire, its warm ale, and his two
friends. Well, okay, his thoughts also drifted more than once onto the barmaid Beta and
her golden hair and intense blue eyes. The cobblestone street sloped to either side
draining water into the sewers beneath the city. He passed Flagstone Hall; only two
more blocks and he’d be out of this miserable early spring rain.

            
Out of nowhere his inner sense blasted his full attention on this instant of time
forcing his head to look upwards. His eyes focused on a large stone block that was falling
directly towards his head! Instant reactions from his youthful training kicked in; he dove
to his left and rolled as his shoulder hit the cold, wet, unforgiving cobblestones. High
atop Flagstone Hall through the opening made by the falling stone, he saw a cloaked,
hooded figure suddenly vanish. Crash! The three foot by one foot chunk of polished
granite smashed into the street crushing cobblestone, shattering the block itself, and
missing his leg by mere inches.

            
One quick fighter movement and Zoran was on his feet, his sword drawn. His
eyes darted in all directions, but the street was deserted. No one was venturing out on a
night like tonight unless they had urgent business. “Damn!” he cursed. He shook more
water off of himself; his pants were now soaked as well. A minute later he entered the
Coddle Inn, shaking off his cloak and clothes at the door. Stale pipe smoke and spirits
assailed his nostrils along with that of burning pine logs.

            
“Hey, over here, Vladislov,” the cheery, but slightly drunk voice of his friend
Miklos called out to him using his surname. “Come over and warm up by the fire. Ale’s
waiting!” Miklos and Kornel had the table closest to the inn’s large fireplace, perfect for
nights like tonight, Zoran thought, and joined them.

            
“Hey, what happened to you? Fall into a puddle did we?” Kornel joked, noticing
that his friend was rather drenched.

            
“Gimme an ale! Someone just tried to kill me again,” Zoran replied angrily,
downing one mug in a single guzzle.

            
“What? Did you see who it was this time?” Kornel suddenly came to attention,
struggling to fight off the effects of the three ales that he had already consumed.

            
“Are you all right?” Miklos added, also becoming alert, his eyes scanning
everyone in the inn as if they might be an assassin as well.

            
“Gonna have a sore shoulder in the morning. No harm done — missed me.” Zoran
related his narrow escape with death minutes before.

            
“Damn, you sure are the luckiest guy I know,” Kornel stated. “Incredible of you to
just happen to look up when you did! Grey cloak and hood — not much to go on this
time either.” He refilled Zoran’s mug.

            
Zoran was the youngest child of Baron Kazimir and Baroness Katerina Vladislov,
the rulers of the main continent of the planet Adapazan. His twenty-one year older
brother, Radek, was already named by Baron Kazimir to be his heir to the throne. Like
peas, Zoran always said, ruthless tyrants, controlling the planet with an iron glove. In
stark contrast to their harshness, his twin nineteen year old sisters, Rayna and Lida,
were like gentle flowers in the spring. Yet they were not without power; they chose to
use it wisely, from Zoran’s point of view. Baron Kazimir ruled from this huge city of
Dorum and his giant stone castle Dorumova in which Zoran had his own room.

            
While the fire began to warm him on the outside and the ale on the inside, he and
his two friends chatted about this new attempt on his life. Zoran’s mind could not help
but drift back to the previous two attempts. Three weeks ago, at dinner, he took a chunk
of bread that was on the table before him. However, his inner senses had warned him
something was not right. So startled by the suddenness of his surprise warning, he had
dropped the bread on the floor. His old pet dog had eaten it and immediately began
vomiting and died within two minutes. Someone had tried to poison him at his own
dinner table!

            
Baron Kazimir laughed off the whole incident, but did at least investigate. He
found nothing of significance, even though the Baroness insisted that he leave no stone
unturned to find the assassin. Assassinations were commonplace within the Federation
of Planets.

            
Then, last week, as he was practicing his combat skills, going hand to hand with
the Baron’s sword master, Josef, once again, his inner sense kicked in; he reacted by
making a rolling dive into the dirt. Just in time, an arrow thudded into the ground where
he had been standing. Josef called out the guards, but the archer simply vanished. Other
than the arrow, no trace of the assassin could be found. Well, that was to be expected of
an assassin, if they knew their craft. Now tonight the unknown assassin had tried it
again and almost succeeded. Zoran was more than a little annoyed and upset; he
bordered on hostility. Who could possibly want him dead?

            
“Probably Radek’s behind it,” Kornel was speculating, as Zoran’s mind finally
rejoined his friends. “Everyone knows that Zoran is just the opposite of him and the
Baron.”

            
“Why? I am not in line to be heir to the throne,” Zoran pointed out for the tenth
time to his friends. “Look, the Baron,” he had long since stopped referring to Kazimir as
his father, “has already named Radek as his heir. Even if something happens to him,
more than likely it would fall to Rayna or Lida. I’m fourth in line at best, if the Baroness
doesn’t claim it before it comes to me. I can’t see any reason for Radek to want me dead.
Sorry fellows, I don’t buy it.”

            
“Well, someone sure does, Zoran. This is the third attempt! Sooner or later, they
are going to succeed. What the devil are you going to do about it?” Miklos asked,
concerned for his childhood friend.

            
Perhaps it was the ale talking. Zoran found himself saying, “Perhaps I ought to
just disappear for a while until I can figure out who is after my head.”

            
“Say, that’s not a bad idea,” Kornel replied, then hiccupping loudly from the ale.
“Go undercover and all that. I like it.”

            
“Yes, but he is Duska. He can just go anywhere in the Federation just by magic.
We sure can’t go with him and protect him, now can we, Kornel,” Miklos replied, rather
annoyed that Zoran was suggesting what sounded like a grand adventure and that the
two of them, being only Adepts, that is beginning wizards, could not follow. Not unless
Zoran chose to magically bring them along. He was hoping his slight hint would register
with Zoran who would then offer to take them with him.

            
“Sorry fellows. If I go, I have to go by myself. If out there something happens to
me, you both would be stranded! I could never live with that, sorry. I must do this
alone,” Zoran replied to his friend’s subtle hint. They knew that he was right. Zoran was
Duska; they were not. Four years ago, he’d come of age and had been given the
Ceremony of Ascension, during which his special gland at the base of his body’s brain
activated. Through the guidance of the Priestess, he’d been initiated into the Shadow
Walk, which allowed him to walk through space to any of the sixteen planets within the
Federation. His first trip was nauseating, but by the last walk, he had mastered his fears
and was now a true Duska, a Shadow Walker, which was his birthright. All those who
ruled throughout the Federation were Duska.

            
Duska were special, multi-talented, different human beings, gifted by birth with
an oversized gland, which, upon puberty, set them apart with special powers and
abilities. Perhaps the greatest of these was their ability to Shadow Walk, in which they
could transport themselves and others, if they chose, from one planet to another within
the sixteen in the Federation of Planets. Their reaction times were phenomenal, and
males usually made use of this by becoming master swordsmen. All male Duskas were
given standard fighter training from about the age of six onwards.

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