The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian (44 page)

"
For seven days the light will fight the dark, with all races gathered against the endless night. If night should fall on the last day, with darkness still undefeated . . . it will be eternal. The end of days will have come and all light will be extinguished forever, never to return . . ."

He shuddered at the image of evil stronger than good and
clenched his teeth against the
wave of panic that threatened to engulf him. Liri quivered beside him and sought his hand in desperation. Together they fought to hold onto their hope.

Siarra abruptly growled and smashed a fist into the stone battlement, snapping them out of their despair. "I will NOT let us fail," she said so fiercely that Taryn and Liri jumped. Immediately the swirling magic dispersed back into the night, leaving the three of them alone with their thoughts.

"I hope so," Liri replied in a voice so small that Taryn put his arm around her and squeezed her hand, vainly trying to ward off the premonition with his grip.

 The brooding silence stretched between them for over an hour with the three of them staring mutely at the lightning storm in the distance. Finally Siarra pushed herself off the wall with a deep sigh. "I'm going to have dreams tonight, I can feel it. I just hope they're pleasant."

Her voice held no hope, but Taryn wished her well anyway as she bid them goodnight and headed towards the House of Runya, where Liri's mother, Lariel, had invited them all to stay for the night. She trudged away and Taryn slid down to sit with his back against the parapet. When Liri sat next to him he put his arm around her and she snuggled into his chest.

Taryn broke the silence first. “Denithir didn’t die right away.”

Liri leaned back, her expression quizzical as she asked, “What do you mean?”

Taryn winced at the memory. “He said to tell Eressa that he loved her. Now I have to find his wife and tell her I failed him.”

Tears sprang to Liri’s eyes as she choked out, “Eressa isn’t his wife . . . She’s his unborn daughter.”

Taryn’s throat tightened and his eyes lifted to the heavens, his heart unable to bear what he had just heard. How could he tell a daughter why she would never know her father?

“I’m sorry Taryn,” Liri murmured. “I will help you tell them if you wish.”

Clamping down on his surging emotions, he accepted her offer. “Thank you Liri. I don’t think I could do it without you.” Reaching out, he pulled her to his chest and hugged her.

She sighed and shifted to get more comfortable. "I wish we didn’t have all this going on," she mumbled into his tunic.

"I feel the same way, Liri," he said.

"We have to leave in the morning, don't we?" she asked tonelessly.

"
We
?" he asked in surprise.

She thumped his chest with her hand. "Of course.” —Her expression displayed frank annoyance. “—Did you expect me to sit around here?"

"Um, sort of," he said, half-heartedly wishing she would, at least for her own safety.

"Not likely," she scoffed. "Where you go, I go. We're in this together."

He took a moment to respond. "You know . . . what happened to Lakonus . . ." He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought, so he tried to explain a different way. "Something tells me anybody with him died too."

"This time will be different—I am sure of it." Liri's voice sounded almost confident, like she was struggling to convince herself. Then she leaned away from him and her eyes locked with his, her expression so intense he would have backed up if his head wasn’t already against the stone.

"One thing I am sure of, Taryn: I
know
you can kill this evil. If there is one thing I have learned, it's never to doubt your ability
.
"

Her complete and unwavering confidence in him was honest and genuine, so he smiled and pulled her back to him. "Thank you for trusting me, Liri." He hesitated for a moment, and then relented. "And I'm glad you'll be with me for the journey."

Even though he couldn’t see her face he could feel her smile. Sighing, he said, "So tomorrow the gathering begins."

She stirred and said softly, "Riders are already being dispatched." She looked at him with eyes full of profound sorrow. "The gathering has already begun."

###

Exerpt from The Gathering

Siarra forced herself to breathe as she advanced between the snarling fiends on either side of her, knowing they were only held in check by their absolute fear of her—and that it wouldn’t last long. She just hoped it was long enough. With cautious steps she worked her way past the various evil creatures trembling in their desire to tear her asunder.

Quare dominated the vicious army. The man-size fiends boasted a mane of dark red fur that barely showed on their ink-colored skin. Although they carried no weapons, they had slaughtered thousands with their bare hands. Rippling muscles bunched and clenched throughout their bodies, and their fur stood on end as she passed, their manes flaring in anger. She knew they could tear a man in half, and they would try to do the same to her.

Sipers, dogs the size of lions, growled and snapped at the air swirling in her wake. Lightning fast, they were the first to close off her path behind her, blocking her in. The hard, arrowhead scales that covered their bodies shimmered from pure black to deep crimson as they sensed the kill. Opalescent eyes glittered as she passed through a pack of them, and she willed herself not to shudder.

In between the Sipers and Quare, the Kraka captains towered over the other fiends.  Blanketed in white bone armor that grew from their own flesh, they dragged massive obsidian swords as if they were too heavy to carry, until they whipped the sword through an elf like the snap of a whip. Earlier in the battle she’d seen a single Kraka annihilate an entire company of humans before a lucky ballistae bolt finally took it down. A hundred dead in a matter of minutes, and there were hundreds of thousands of Krakas around her.

Lastly came Skorpians, huge beasts as large as a wagon with tails that grew black bone spears in minutes, spears that could be launched with a snap of their tail to embed into solid rock. If that wasn’t enough, their dual pincers could cut through armor and bone like it was parchment. Their exoskeleton had prevented all but the most powerful attacks from penetrating . . .

A Siper lunged at her, fury overcoming its fear. As quick as thought she sidestepped the lunge and lifted a spike of earth to impale it mid-flight. She turned from the dying creature and stared at the black horde, until once again their fear overcame their boiling hate. For one brief instant she relished in the feeling of power. She had faced down an army of billions, and they had retreated.

But the thought was fleeting, and her courage waned, so she resumed her steady walk forward. Heat blossomed in her chest as her fear spiked, but she clenched her jaw and focused on each step as she worked her way further from the broken gates of Azertorn. Each precious step moved her farther from the city, but it wasn’t distance she needed, it was time.

The cliff and city had been under siege by an almost unlimited host of fiends for less than six days.
How could so many have died in six days
? And they still had to survive for another thirty-six hours before the light fell on the seventh day. Part of her recognized it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't shake the great weight that hunched her shoulders. As the Oracle of Lumineia, she was the most powerful mage throughout the kingdoms, and had guided the races to unite.

Somewhere, somehow, she had failed.

Before her thoughts could continue, a ripple coursed through the army and she came to a halt. Like the wind had shifted, she knew. This was the spot of her last battle. The fiends around her  snarled and growled, roared and pawed the ground, each waiting for her to attack. She stood firm, hoping the extra seconds might make a difference. If she moved first it would only be a matter of time before they overwhelmed her. She had to give the allies time to fortify again, to prepare for the next onslaught.

Deep down she knew it wasn’t enough, that her desperate bid to give them time would fail. She knew she couldn’t hold them off, but it just wasn’t in her to give up. She knew she would die, and then everyone in Azertorn would perish. Looking at the curled muzzles and dark, bloodthirsty mass surrounding her, she wondered where they had lost, where she had made a wrong decision.

What in heaven or earth could have turned aside this holocaust?

Siarra took one last look upward at the vast cloud of black that had enveloped the sky, leaving only a column of sunlight from the city to the clouds, piercing the encroaching darkness and causing the heavens to shine on Azertorn. Even as she watched the black roiled and pressed against the waning light and she knew it was time.

Bringing her tired gaze back to the roiling sea of black, she listened to the fiends gathering their courage and readied herself for the fight of her life. The unnatural peace lasted only a few seconds, until a huge Kraka began to charge. From deep within the enraged army he roared, a bellow of rage that echoed off the scorched and broken cliff as he began to pick up speed. The entire host seemed to take a breath in unison, ready to strike when the armored warrior reached her tiny elven form.

Barreling towards her the massive fiend captain roared in defiance and pumped its legs faster. Its obsidian blade bounced through the dirt behind him, kicking up a spray of soil as he thundered across the ground like a galloping steed. Fifty paces away . . . then twenty . . . then ten, and finally the huge beast snapped the giant sword high—but Siarra was quicker.

Lifting her fingers she raised the ground in front of the beast only a few inches, and tripped him before he could get within range. The fiend’s roar turned to a cry of pain as it slammed into the unforgiving ground and tumbled towards her. Before the impending wave of creatures could descend she used a gust of air to push the dark blade underneath the rolling body, forcing him to land on his own sword. When he finally came to a stop, he didn’t move . . . but Siarra wasn’t there to see it.

The catalyst had shattered the calm, and billions of fiends flooded towards her, bent on wiping her from existence. In an instant she became a whirlwind of action. Her hands blurred into motion and air flew into enemies, knocking them flying. With a stomp of her foot the ground exploded outward, thundering into anything nearby and crushing them into each other. Clenching her fist she sent waves of ice missiles lancing through armor and bone alike. The sharp ice dropped them where they stood, but more fiends jumped over their twisted forms before they had even stopped breathing.

Siarra spun and twisted, blasting magical attacks into the bodies of her enemies. Fire exploded and burned when she pulled heat from the air, lightning jumped and arced as she gathered the charge from the surrounding area, stone rose up to obliterate dark forms at her command, and the very light from above scorched them where they stood . . . but it was not enough.

Bit by bit the encroaching wave pressed inward, over the bodies of hundreds of their dead comrades, and slowly grew closer. Each strike now came within feet of hitting home, then inches . . . then it was too late.

A Siper dodged every attack and leapt at Siarra from behind, taking her down. Tasting her fear, she rolled and blasted him away, but other claws were already descending towards her. She called on what was left of the forest of Numenessee and long roots sprang up from the ground to crush the nearest fiends, but they came too late. Something had gouged into her leg, causing her to cry out in pain. Seconds later her arm was almost ripped out by a Quare, and she burned him to ash. The heat from the magical fire shimmered off her skin before another form materialized through the dust and smashed into her, throwing her backwards.

Her frail body tumbled through ranks of fiends, barely protected by a thin film of energy that shocked anything that tried to strike her, but some of the more determined attempts made it through. When she finally came to a stop, her right side had gone numb, two ribs were broken, and she could feel blood seeping from her body in too many places to count.

A giant Kraka stood above her as she coughed and fought to bring her magic to bear. Shrugging aside her effort to throw him back, he took a moment to cut down a Siper that had slunk past him. Fighting for breath she squirmed as he brought his black weapon up. His roar caused her to flinch and lose what semblance of focus she'd regained.

She had probably killed several thousand in the last few minutes, but now she could do nothing but scream and watch the blade descend towards her neck . . .

The Gathering
is currently available for purchase on Amazon. Look for the explosive finale to be released,

Christmas 2012

Author Bio

Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for learning almost everything. Driven particularly to reading caused him to be caught reading by flashlight under the covers at an early age. While still young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself to play the piano. This thirst for knowledge gained him excellent grades and helped him graduate college with honors, as well as become fluent in three languages after doing volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he started and ran several successful businesses that gave him time to work on his numerous writing projects. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful wife and three beautiful children. Currently he resides in Florida while working on his latest writing and business endeavors.

To contact the author, discover more about Lumineia, or find out about the upcoming sequels,
The Gathering
and
Seven Days
, check out his blog at
Lumineia.Blogspot.com
. You can also follow the author on twitter
@ BenHale8
or
Facebook
.