Mundahlia (The Mundahlian Era, #1)

Mundahlia

1. Something given off or by the moon.

(i.e. The moon given land/The moon

given language/The moon given

energy/The moon given light...etc.)

2. The land centered in the area of the Bermuda

Triangle inhabited by the Mundahlians.

Prologue

June 6th, 1902

Rain cast its way onto the cold, damp sand. A ferry, not docked for long, rocked over the black water that mirrored the moon above it.

“You need to leave, hurry!” A woman cried. She was covered from head to toe in a long dark cape that flowed onto the wooden floor of the watercraft.

“And you?” A short man, who’s features stayed hidden in the shadows, questioned. “Come with us.” He and another tall man had just finished hopping out of the small vessel and onto the wet sand. Moving their feet around to prevent from sinking into the saturated shore.

“Don’t worry about me. I need you all to be safe. Take the children, and settle somewhere far—far away from these parts.” She tossed him a sack, filled to the top with things for her children. A profusion of small trinkets to remember her and the land they came from incase they grew curious within the years to come.

“Ludenia, you must come with us. Staying with him will curse you with a life of misery.”

“If it will keep him and his army from searching for you all, then it is for the best. I only wish I had thought of it sooner, maybe then the others would have been here with us as well.” She brushed a few tears away before helping a set of struggling triplets off the boat. Passing them—two young boys and a girl, one after the other, to the tallest man as he reached his arms out to receive the children that belonged to him. Behind her, a sobbing young boy with hair of gold, stood cradling a dark haired infant in his arms. Confused. She wept at the thought of how both their parents were gone. Killed while trying to protect the last of their kind.

“May I hold him while you get helped off?” she asked the golden-haired boy.

The little boy looked up to her, his eyes—red, with sadness. A face of both despair and confusion. “Okay,” he spoke in a voice filled with adolescent innocence. It only added to the sorrowful emotion running feral throughout Ludenia’s bruised and aching body.

After the little boy was on the shore, she passed the wailing infant down to the man, who in turn returned it to the little boy. As if by instinct, the little golden-haired boy began a task to soothe the baby into a soft coo. It was then, at that very moment, that Ludenia felt the gentlest nudge on the side of the cape. A tiny tug, easily dismissible if it weren’t for the soft sniffle that followed. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, knowing exactly who it was at the end of her cape, then turned—eyes dampening, to the sight of her own children standing before her. Still growing in their miniature bodies, and watching her—waiting for what she’d do next. She was going to have to let them go for their own safety. Not by choice, but by force. If things were different, she’d hold on to them until the end of time.

Nothing hurt more than saying goodbye to her own blood. The two beautiful children she had given birth to. Her own pride and joy. They had given her a reason to live, even when times grew dark in the past. The vibrant colors to her dull world. But even after all the things she has been through, Ludenia knew none of those horrible, tragic days in the past, had ever been as dark as this one.

“Momma, what’s happening?” her young son asked. Beside him, a toddler, not yet old enough to speak in a complete sentence, looked up to her with wide-set eyes and a thumb in his mouth.

Ludenia got to her knees and brought both into a tight hug, wanting to keep them there forever. She whispered into her son’s ear, “Mama needs you to be a big boy and take care of your brother, okay?”

The young boy, oldest of the two, pulled away with a question on his face. “Why? Where are you going?”

She couldn’t muster up the courage to break his little heart. “This isn’t good-bye,” she wept. “You’ll see me again. But until then, uncle Martin is going to take care of you.” She paused to swallow a whimper, “Okay?”

“Mommy?” the little boy began to sob as well. “Please don’t leave us.” As much as she tried to deny it, she knew her son was slowly putting things together. He was too smart to be fooled by any little lies she tried to make him believe so he wouldn’t fully comprehend what was going on.

Once more, she embraced the thumb-sucking toddler beside him, too small to understand, and watched as the tall man took him into his arms. The older boy, barely at the height of an average six year old, still gazed at his mother—trying hard not to let the walls of tears in his eyes slither down his cheek.

“My little Jett,” she whispered again, planting a kiss on his soaked head, then lifting him into her arms. He had long dark hair and eyes of light brown. Her other son, however, had light brown hair—almost a deep blonde, and dark eyes. Almost nothing alike because they indeed had different fathers. One of royalty, and one of poverty—but she loved each one the same.

“Mommy?!” he jerked. She encased him tightly against her chest so she could take in his very scent. Storing it in her memories for as long as she could keep it there, until it would eventually fade with time—along with the faces of the last of her family and friends that she was now bidding farewell.

His legs flailed as he started crying out, “No, momma! No!”

“I’m sorry,” she broke quietly, holding back a painful cry that clawed at the lining of her throat, trying to escape. She made sure the other man’s hands were around him before she let go. Feeling his tiny hands, for quite possibly the last time, grasp for her’s in air.

For her, time stood still in the very moment she let go. As if the following seconds of the man struggling with her son were in slow motion.

“Momma!” her son yelled. She heard the muffled word as if she were underwater. Drowning and feeling the life being sucked out of her. She was distant in her mind. Back to a few weeks before, when things were perfect. “Momma!” he tried again. Back to those many nights when she would tell stories to her children before bed and hear Jett exclaim, ‘Tell it again, momma!’ And the weekends that she would take him into the village and watch him devour his favorite meal with a fork that appeared giant in his minuscule hand. But what she would miss most, were the days—when for no absolute reason, her little boy would squeeze himself around her and smile as he would say, ‘I love you, momma.’

“Momma! Please!” his little voice was now hoarse and full of desperation. Ludenia was pushed back from her sunny past into the gloomy present. From the distance, within a thick wall of fog, a low dull horn went off. She took in a deep breath and began untying the rope from around the post that kept the small compact vessel from drifting away. It was them. They were coming for her. The man who’d lent her the ferry said she’d only have a few minutes to bring them to this world until the King’s men would come searching for them, or at least pretend to so they would please the council. It was illegal to be fleeing their land—the council would issue a bounty on all their heads if they’d found out about this.

She’d begged the King to look the other way and let her bring them here. She even took the abuse he’d unleashed upon her when he went into a bout of rage. “This is madness!” He’d spat at her as she lay on the floor holding her cheek from the slap he’d cast across her face. “Do you know what the council will do if they found out I let you smuggle Mundahlians to the human world?! They’ve been waiting centuries for the idiotic humans to break the pact. I’m sure they will not take it lightly if one of your family members or friends slips up over there and kills a human.”

“Please, Kincade! They are all I have left! They won’t kill any humans, I swear to you! They aren’t savages!” Ludenia knew her pleas would melt his heart. After all these years, his heart couldn’t beat the same with another woman as it did for hers. And oh did he try. His mistresses from all sorts of clans bore him children, but in the end, he sentenced them for execution after they’d proven to be only after the title of being Queen. Ludenia was different. Accustomed to living a low-end life. Doing the most she could to get by. Never craving the royal life. Seeing it more as a curse rather than a gift.

“The council has already decided on their fate. I am just the puppet and they—the puppeteers. They make the final decision, I just enforce it! But you—you and the boy—
our
boy, shall be spared. So long as you both live in the castle. I can convince the council, they'll spare you both since you are mine. Bring the boy and your belongings here. You shall live with me and my children the way it was meant to be the first time around. Only this time, you
will
accept my proposal.”

“I cannot just let the rest be exterminated!” Ludenia cried, getting to her feet.

“And why not?”

“They are my friends and family, Kincade! Your men have already taken the lives of dear friends of mine. What am I to do with their orphaned children who are crying nonstop back at my island? Don’t you see how senseless this decree of killing the last members of a clan is? You should be helping them, not wiping them from our land as though they’ve never existed!”

“What more do you want from me!” The King stammered, slamming her against a wall, the nails on his massive hands prodded her skin.

“I just want them safe and unharmed. In exchange for it, I’ll stay with you.” Something sparked his interest. “Just let me get them away from here,” she whimpered. “And I’ll stay.”

Kincade—the older image of their son, Jett, with long dark hair and soft light brown eyes—looked into her eyes. Digging deep into them in search for a sign that would signify that the words she spoke were of the truth. “All right,” he said, after giving it a thought. “But you will never see them again after tonight, do you hear me? You are mine now, Ludenia. And only mine. Just as I am only yours now. Now go! You have only two hours time before I send my men after you to make sure you keep true to your word and stay. Take the cape from the hook and keep out of sight.” Ludenia rushed to the door, removing the long dark cape from a metal hook, and flung the fabric around her. “But,” she heard and turned to face him once more as she tied the strings around her to keep it from falling. “If the council learns of their escape, I will be forced to do whatever I have to do to keep my throne. Understood?” he said. “I will not lose my power on your behalf. My family has ruled for centuries and I intend to keep this dynasty going for many more years to come.”

Ludenia paused for a moment and thought to herself. He used to be a pleasant man. Never once laying an abusive hand on her. A stern man—but still tolerable. Back then, he was someone she could see marrying someday—and almost did. He was kind, handsome, and a gentleman. But something changed—he changed. He chose power over her. He chose the council, over her. It was like something else was controlling him and turned him into a new power-hungry, abusive man almost overnight. Would she ever be able to be happy with him now that he was like this?

“Understood?!” Kincade roared, waiting for her reply.

“Understood.”

Ludenia was thrust out of the memories of hours before. She looked over to both men holding on to her tireless son. He was still reaching for her—crying hysterically, as he tried to push the grown men away so he could run for her. She felt her heart sink. Nothing meant more than safety for her family. Even if it meant sacrificing her happiness for it to happen.

“Take care of my boys, Martin,” she said to the short man whom she’d been talking to before. Thunder roared and lightning flashed in the sky as if a photograph of this farewell had been taken. A vivid image to remain heavily imposed in the back of their minds, forever.

“I will,” he replied softly, glumly looking into her eyes. “I will.”

She gave him a tight hug as well. “I love you, brother.”

“I love you too.” Martin helped shove the small ferry back into the water to set it into motion.

Ludenia watched as they stood at the shore watching her vanish on the bobbing wooden craft into the fog toward the land she too wished she had fled. She nodded them farewell, nearly losing her strength at the sight of her adamant son still screaming rampantly for her.

Rain masked the streams of warm, salty tears pouring down her face as she gave her final wave. In truth, she didn’t know when—if ever, that she would see them again. All she knew, was that this painful farewell was all for the better.

“My little boys,” she whispered to herself. “I love you.”