Age of Souls Read online

  Age of Souls

  The Vulthrodin Archives

  Garrett Stevens

  Copyright © 2019 Garrett Stevens

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Editing by Garry Hoffart

  Map artwork by Antonio Rafael Garcia Hernandez

  Book design by ebooklaunch.com

  The Vulthrodin Archives

  Age of Souls

  *Tides of Bone

  *Forthcoming

  For my wife and family for their

  understanding and patience

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 1

  A burst of light erupted from behind the bushes, shooting upward into the night sky tearing apart the darkness. Brightening the dark night as if the sun jumped out in surprise. The sudden illumination brought forth all manner of critters, animals and insects scurrying away from the shock. Even the plants which grew around the lake shook like littered trash. As quickly as the flash came, it faded back into the black of night, calming the darkness from sight and sound. The moon twinkled in the slight ripple of a lake as if to wave to the stars that everything was ok.

  Standing on the edge of the clearing, Mya watched as the rippling water faded back to glass, calming her mind with a deep breath. The forest was quiet again, the clearing void of all motion or sound. There was something not natural about the air, something was not right.

  Skirting the lake Mya moved with quick seamless steps as if she were a phantom in a tomb, floating just above the cobbles without a sound or bounce. She reached the briar along the edge of the clearing to come to a soft skidded halt. The air in the area felt dense and almost hurt to breathe as if the tomb had been kept closed for centuries and oxygen burnt in the souls of warriors held onto the hope of living too long.

  As the darkness of the night began to shadow about her, holding her to its chest in the hopes to drain the life from her soul as well. The hair on the back of her neck stood up with the feeling of someone watching her.

  Peering over the growth around her, Mya set her deep green eyes on a small white marking that moved like it were alive, as if the spirit of the Dragon had taken it as its own. The strange arrangement of runes and unrecognizable markings crisscrossed each other, cutting through roots and earth, the feeling of a footprint left by Necrolin himself.

  The foot-wide configuration shaped itself into what looked like a cluster of six stars forming around three hoops, almost touching but never connecting. The rings spun slowly, growing into a more ornate layout with additional rings and lines finally encasing the stars into what looked like six more rings with thorns protruding at the apex of the ring. In the middle, being perfectly spaced in a triangle formation, the circles were no more than a sliver apart and spun around a small strange twisting symbol that took the shape of two dragon heads about to devour each other.

  Mya pushed her way through the briars to get a better look, catching loose clothing on the thorns making her flinch slightly with one stabbing her legs and hips as she moved. Her black cloak perused behind her jumping from thorn to thorn, taunting them with their meager attempts to ensnare it.

  High dark brown leather boots were strapped tightly to her legs with multiple buckles that grasped an earthy toned leather legging. The tight leggings hugged her thin lower body as if they were a second pair of skin only to crumple under the back of her knees as she walked.

  A thin black belt strapped near the top of her waist wrapped into itself past a small worn gold buckle with a second belt that was obviously too large for her waist which rested slightly down her hip, bouncing with movement. Two similar belts twisted their way around her small waist. Clasped together with another golden buckle just behind her hip that rested on the other side of her hips in a similar fashion. A tight green tunic tucked into her leggings showed off her figure well. Aside from the grime and dirt stains there were a couple of new tears from the current expedition through a thorny endeavor.

  As she knelt, Mya placed a small dark brown travel pack down from her shoulder. Fading from the light of the moon, she slipped behind the plant life to leave the tomb of a lake and let the deathly scene rest once again. Sliding a clump of her long brown hair behind an ear, Mya never took her eyes from the shifting rune.

  The entrancing allure it had, being but a pearl in the darkness, gave off a light but never illuminated even an few centimeters beyond itself. Extending her hand out, slowly extending a forefinger, Mya traced the lines of the symbol slightly above, as her finger spun from line to line, she made her way to the center finally coming to a rest just above the two heads. Queer as they were, the rune and all its markings would never be forgotten. There was something familiar about it, like she had seen them before, somewhere in her past someone had drawn them for her, back when she was a child.

  “Mya. Mya, where are you?” A young voice called out from the beyond the still water, shaking the stillness of the night.

  Slowly standing, Mya shifted her eyes towards the night sky through a clearing in the branches as if looking to the stars for their response. Like the dead, the sky rarely answered. The small crescent of the moon could barely be seen behind the canopy above which she knew was frowning at her for the delay in response.

  An odd night to have the sad moon watching them. Lifting a hand slightly below shoulder height, she opened her palm igniting a small blue flame, as if a soul from the lake were coming to life. Not bright enough to count as a beacon or to disturb the souls of the tomb lake, but low enough that it could be seen from a fair distance. Even with the illumination from her hand the voice faded into the darkness beyond showing no sign of the living.

  “Over here Faer.” Mya spoke with a calm voice, trying not to disturb the dead air around her.

  A shadow moved around the edge of the lake, a phantom creeping through the land of the living, only to hide from the light of the moon. It moved as if it could move through solid rock, nothing got in its way. The figure slowed and stopped just before the line of briar that Mya stood behind.

  “What did you find?” Faer asked.

  “I think these are Old Uridine markings. The one in the middle I am unsure of, but it really looks familiar.” Kneeling back down with the fire in her hand, the phantom of Faer slithered in through the brush gathered in the darkness, slowly being illuminated from the fire in her hand.

  “It doesn’t look familiar to me either, Turi should know more if it is Old Uridine.” Unmoving Faer spoke while keeping his gaze on the symbols carved into the land.

  His features were very similar to Mya; skin tone, young smooth features, and garb with not near
ly as much dirt. The elven features could barely be seen in the darkness but with the way the light of the blue flame hit his face, you could easily tell. Aside from the two being opposite sex, they would be thought the same person if their hoods were up. A small sword protruding his cloak out on his back side making it harder for him to push his way through the briar and the thorns held back his cloak far enough that it wrapped around the blade sheath.

  Mya nodded after Faer spoke, reaching into her pack, pulling out a small bound leather book. It was almost as if someone took a tome and shrunk it half size of what it should normally be. The elaborate etching and engravings on the cover had a movement to them, something of very magical qualities that made a feint humming noise if you got close enough. The binding that held hundreds of pages together looked as if it were dipped into a boiling pot of gold and hung to dry, making ripples of refinement clinging to the knowledge within.

  Flipping through the pages, sketches could be seen molding together in a torrent of adventure. Beasts and places from top to bottom, writing and charts whirled by until finally an empty page near the back. There was a crude drawing of some sort of rodent like creature, it looked like a rat had mated with boar and kept all the horrible features. There was a small description of the grey colouring of its fur to the way it slithered along the ground when it moved. Small dimension lines could be seen on a couple sides of the drawing, giving it the size of a small dog. Below the words ‘North Darken’, a single word written in italic at the bottom of the page, Scridule.

  Stretching with her other hand into a side pocket, she brought out a small pencil shaped piece of black stone and began to sketch the pattern in front of her. Faer peered over her shoulder as she flawlessly made matching circles and shapes, moving as if her hand were the initial scribe, taking no time at all to mimic the runes on the page. Mya slowed slightly as she worked on the detailed center holding her breath as she bounced from edge to edge.

  Finally finished, Mya stretched her back and let out a sigh. With a quick shot with her eyes back and forth between page and forest floor, she nodded to herself with the satisfaction that it was accurate.

  “I think that it is about time we got back to the keep.” Putting her tools away, Mya stood and turned to Faer in the night.

  Faer nodded and spun quickly, pushing his way back through to the lake, swearing under his breath as his cloak and weapon lurched him around with his clunky movements. Mya couldn’t help but laugh a little under her breath with hearing him mutter his curses and his frustration. Following his path through the thorns she found it easier now that he had broken majority of the trouble spots.

  Nearing the edge of the lake Mya glanced over her shoulder back to the area where the runes were and pulled her hood up with a small bounce of her pack. Turning to look at Faer, who kept his eyes on the stillness of the tomb like lake, holding the moon as if it were watching them from a mirror. Mya placed her hand on his shoulder for the acknowledgment of her readiness. With a gentle lean forward, Faer started off into the night.

  The two of them made their way around the waters quickly, reaching the forest edge and never hesitating before pushing their way into the far side growth. For near an hour of holding back branches and dodging spider webs, the path they trudged along through suddenly stopped and opened into a muddy road. An assortment of tracks scattered the trail, from horse, beast, or humanoid, the footprints and tracks still flooded with water from the previous night’s rain.

  Turning east, the trees caught a small brush of wind that whispered caution of a secondary storm closing in. Faer stopped briefly to look up at the night sky and scan for how long they had. Maybe a few hours before something came close, but still, the moisture in the air started to change.

  Returning his gaze back down to the road, the edge of rainfall could be seen in the distance, something the average humanoid would not be able to see, but with the clear weather and his elf eyes, the wall was present. With a quick glance over to Mya, she nodded the confirmation that they needed to hurry before things got too wet. A quiet rumble of thunder echoed along the path around them, quickly fading back to silence.

  Their pace was quick, but still quite an easy pace for the two of them. Faer was used to travelling with Mya at this pace, they had been away for so long and she was always determined on whatever they were doing. There was rarely a word from her during their travelling portions, but she always carried a kind of aura around her, something very friendly but frightening at the same time. It kept a lot of strangers at bay.

  Silence between the two elves was rudely interrupted from time to time by the thundering storm, failing at creeping up on them. It was not shy about letting them know that they were going to be caught in the torrent it had in store. The weather behind them rose with a crescendo on the last slam of thunder, forcing a larger jump to their step.

  The mud under their boots began to thicken with the rising moisture in the air, an omen of heavy rains pushed them on harder. Faer kept his eye on the horizon for any sign of travelling wagon or place to wait out the storm while keeping his ears on the drum roll of rain gaining on them. It was hard to see through the density of the rain that fell.

  Mya had caught up to Faer without him knowing, another thing she was good at, being stealthy. Faer gave a side glance to her from under his hood, checking on her from time to time. Always the same strength and determination, he constantly felt that he was the weak link of the group. There were a thousand other apprentices in the keep, she could have taken anyone with better skills or urge to be outside, so why him? They had not been home in over a month and that sickly feeling of longing for home was settling in, becoming thicker and thicker each day they were gone.

  Every day was long, and the nights trudged on as they spent all their time searching and cataloging, the Emerald Mountains were not a hospitable place. With the close call on Mount Guul and the strange artifact near the beginning, their return trip with every step closer and closer made walking stretch out and take forever and ever. The latest finding was the only break in the past weary week of finding rodents and strange animal carcasses, the only excitement during their trip was the bar fights and stories in odd little towns they stopped in.

  Townsfolk always has some sort of exciting tale or adventure to be had. Thinking back to some of the songs sung and stories with the Halflings brought a smile to his face. With their visit to the Halflings capital of Gurglin and the Dwarves capital of Murdone, there was nothing to put into her book, it seemed more of her way of giving him a break.

  Coming to the end of their journey people started to keep away from them, the innkeeper kept saying they looked like washed up gang members from Bardain. The dirty clothing and radiated smell about them was the first indication. With another glance to his side, Faer was bewildered why Mya rarely carried any sort of notable weapon; no sword, no axe, no shield. Only a little dagger.

  A couple of herb pouches and hard leather pockets at her side along with her small pack was all she ever had. The only proper sharp weapon that was in the group was the one he carried. And, it had come in use in more situations then he cared for.

  Many of the trials they went through and information they collected; Mya had always followed up with the phrase ‘we still need more’. There was no indication of how much they required or when they were on their way home or even why she needed to get what she jotted down in her book.

  Lightning shot across the sky forcing Mya to look up into a barrage of water drops, blinking against the splatter on her cheeks. They had to start thinking more about their footwork now, the monsoon had finally caught up. Thunder broke the silence for a final time with flood of rain pounding down, filling all the tracks across the road even more making them spill into the less full divots.

  The road was going to be even sloppier and began to slow them down. The sounds of the storm got harder and heavier with every minute. The only thing now lighting up their journey was the feint haze of fire coming from the city in
the distance. The moon had been taken over by the storm, swallowed by the monster tormenting their footsteps.

  Surprisingly through the storm, the torches of the city and market below it, lit up more of the gloom than they should. It was almost as if the fire dragon Incinolin had blessed the light himself and beaconed them home. The palace lights twinkled through the rain, reflecting through the drops as if they were dancing in excitement for their return.

  The dark palace walls could barely be seen, like shadows against shadows, faintly formed through the storm and blinking into the night from time to time behind blankets of rain. Lightning was becoming more frequent now, giving some welcomed additional light to the path, allowing them to dance from side to side in the hopes to dodge the deeper pools and eventually get to the fringe of the road for more stable footing.

  To the side of the path they trimmed along, a drop off quickly formed and generated a break in the forest around them to open a panoramic view into the valley. Nothing but darkness and rain could be seen and the odd glimmer of flame against the massive lurking shadow of the keep against the colliding mountain range behind.

  Torches scattered the valley below, flickering behind tents and huts that barely could be made out through the rain. The mountains behind the palace started to take shape through the precipitation along with the gigantic shadow palace, collecting the clouds to make a more concentrated storm over the city, the increased rainfall was noticeable against the edge of the mountains, blocking their view of anything beyond.

  “Looks like we might have to get out of this rain tonight and start out rested in the morning.” Mya broke her voice through the drizzle, perking Faer up suddenly. Shifting her eyes over to him, she could see his silhouette pointing to a nearby umbrella styled tree.

  “We are close to the Journey Tree.” Faer’s voice trembled against the beating of the storm.

  Mya’s pace quickened again, almost slipping on the mud gathered on the side of the road. Faer pushed himself with a sigh and followed her with haste. Stepping under the branches of the tree, Mya took off her pack and ducked under a low-lying branch near the entrance, almost as if she knew it was there. Faer mimicked her movements through the branches and dropped his pack, setting it near the middle of the space.