Secrets Of Serised

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:54:00.000-07:00

The man had striking features, pale blond hair, and a strong build. His arms and face were tanned nearly black from the strength of the sun, probably from working hard each day in the fields. But his eyes, Xander saw as he had passed, were deeply troubled, and as he hurried towards the other house, it seemed a sense of urgency guided his steps.

He knocked on the door, barely pausing before knocking again, louder. Xander almost didn’t believe what he was seeing. Could it be possible?

It was possible. Xander’s heart nearly leapt from his chest to his mouth as another man, roughly the same age, with curly brown hair and brown eyes, opened the door and beckoned the first man into his home. Xander knew this man well, though as he remembered him, the face had been slightly more wrinkled, the hair tinged with gray, and the body a little more frail. The man who had answered the door was his father.

Hewhay had appeared behind the children, and he placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder, leaning close to his ear and whispering, “Follow them.” It took a few minutes for the shock of what he was seeing to wear off enough for Xander to comply, but he moved forwards cautiously towards his old home, and the others followed. A strange emotion threatened to burst from his chest. Since Sraet had been destroyed, there had been little time to mourn the loss of his parents. Seeing them again made his eyes begin to mist, and fresh pain gurgled up into his throat. He knew that they were safe and sound in Ne De, but seeing them here was different. This had been before the fateful night that had stolen their lives. They had been young, safe, happy. Still, he knew it was only a vision, and that they were all right. This place, these things, were not real.

He reached the house. The door had been left open, and all five of them entered. It was exactly how Xander remembered it. But there was no time to reminisce. The two men were already deep in conversation as Xander and the others entered the sitting room.

“She’s weaker every day, Casmir, and I fear that neither her nor the baby have any other chance.” The first man was speaking, pacing the room nervously. Casmir, Xander’s father, appeared to be trying to persuade him of something.

“Come now, Simon, come now. This is the only home you’ve ever known. We all would gladly do anything in our power to help you and Bria—you know that. Do you really want to leave all that behind?”

Simon stopped pacing and turned to face the other man, and Xander could see the desperation in his eyes. “Casmir, my wife is dying. My baby will die with her. I have heard so many rumors of the advanced medicines and magic of Serised. I believe it’s the only way to save her. I must save her, Casmir. Bria is all I have.”

Casmir’s face was a mask of pain and worry. He nervously fingered the ring on his finger, the ring Xander now knew stated his membership in the society of the Drow.

“Your plan is foolish, Simon. You know what I think of Serised and its wicked ruler. How can you forget so easily? Hewhay is the true king; Sefil is an imposter. To turn towards him now would be resigning yourself to the side of evil. Can you really live with that? Can you really give up everything because it is convenient?”

Simon looked angry, and his next words were more growled than spoken. “She’s dying, Casmir. I don’t have a choice!”

Xander’s father raised his voice to match Simon’s. “There’s always a choice!”

“Tell me, oh faithful one,” snarled Simon with sarcasm, “tell me what Hewhay has done for you lately—for any of us. Look around you! Isn’t there more to life than this? Is this your reward for faith in a dead land and a dead king?”

“He lives!”

“So you say! But I’ve had enough of being ruled by apparitions. I will go to a kingdom where I can see, touch, smell the power. Where I can save my wife and my unborn child. I will go to what is real. You may stay in your dream world.”

Both men looked up at the approach of footsteps. Xander’s mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. In her arms, she was rocking a small child, and Xander realized with a start that it was in fact himself. Her eyes were sad, but she nodded to her husband.

“Casmir, they must go. Simon is right. I cannot live with myself if Bria dies when there might have been a chance to save her.” She turned to the other man, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Simon, you and Bria have been good neighbors and kind friends.” She stopped, choking on her words as sobs threatened to overtake her. “You must go! We will miss you, but you must. We will look after your fields and pray for your safe return, however long it may be.” She rushed forwards to hug him. “But know this. Take no oath of loyalty to Sefil. He is dangerous. You must go, find help for Bria, and come back to us.”

Simon’s face softened at her sincerity, and he sighed. “Thank you,” he said simply. He then turned to Casmir and shook his hand firmly.

There was a flash, and though Hewhay did not tell them so, the children could tell that some time had elapsed. Simon and Casmir had just finished loading supplies into the back of a small wagon, and on the front seat, wearing a hood and bundled in blankets, sat an extremely pregnant woman whom Xander assumed to be Bria. The whole town had come out to wish them well, and he recognized Lily’s parents among the villagers, their eldest son, Riley, in tow—and judging by the girth of his mother, Lily well on the way. The men were speaking to Simon as he mounted the seat next to his wife, nodding down at them.

“Whoever is in need of the house is welcome to it,” Simon said, “for I fear that this may be the last you see of us. Perhaps one of your sons, Damien; they are nearly old enough to live on their own.” He spoke to another of the villagers, an older man Xander did not recognize, but he knew the two sons. However, by the time he was old enough to know them, they had become adults with families of their own. The eldest, Felden, had indeed moved into Simon and Bria’s home, and Xander had never known that someone had lived there before him.

But the greatest shock had yet to come. Lily’s mother approached the carriage, and as carefully as she could, she reached up to grasp Bria’s hand in both of hers. Bria, with her free hand, pulled her hood away from her head and spoke, but Xander, nor the others, never heard what she said.

She was beautiful despite the sickness that threatened her life, but that was not what came as such a surprise. It was that every one of the children recognized her. There was no mistaking it.

Her jet-black hair and liquid gold eyes spoke volumes. This woman was Julian’s mother.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:51:00.000-07:00

“So everyone is waiting on me. It’s all on my shoulders.”

“All you have to do is pick up the staff, Xander. It’s that simple. Pick it up; take what I’ve offered you. For once trust something that doesn’t quite make sense to you.”

Xander was pacing back and forth now, not once letting the staff out of his sight. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t understand why it was so hard. He just had to believe, right? Why couldn’t he believe?

“It’s just a staff. I should be able to lift it.”

“It is a staff that brings a heavy burden on the shoulders of its bearer. To pick it up takes courage . . . faith. A willingness to walk a path that seems very difficult.”

“But once I pick it up, I can give it to you. Then it’s not on me anymore.”

“You will be set free of your burden, Xander. But you must accept the staff first. You cannot give me something you don’t have.”

Xander yanked at his hair with both hands now, pacing quicker, grinding his teeth, and looking skyward. Why was it so hard? He stopped. He turned back to where the staff lay.
I just have to pick it up. It’s that simple. I can save Lily, save us all. I just have to pick it up.

“Forgive yourself, Xander, for your inequities, as I have forgiven you. Let them go.”

“But I have!”

“Forgive others for the wrongs they have done you.”

That was it! He couldn’t pick up the staff with anger and resentment in his heart. Julian’s face loomed in the forefront of his mind. He thought of his betrayal, his hurt, his hatred.

Let that go? How?

The only way to save Lily was to forgive Julian. He knew it with absolute certainty. But how could he forgive the traitor who had been leading them straight into the clutches of the man to whom all evil paid homage?

He thought of the Nomed, how bravely he and Julian had fought it, together. He thought of the Snagap. Julian had saved Xander, yes, but it hadn’t stopped there. He could have made it to El Bib. He could have. But he went back for Lily and Thaladria. Xander thought of Elt Sopa, speaking about El Bib. “I know that you are no danger, for if you were, than you could not have entered here.” Elt Sopa was a servant of Hewhay. He had allowed Julian into the forest. Why?

He remembered fighting with Julian. At the time, he had felt unspeakable power in his anger. But he’d seen Julian fight before, and he was no match for that boy. Julian had bested him . . . and let him live. Why?

Why, on several occasions, had Julian risked his life for Xander, if all he was after was Lily?

“How could I have been so blind?” Xander cried. The speaker did not ask to what Xander was referring. He already seemed to know. “Whatever his intentions had been, whatever evil he has committed, surely he was trying to start anew. Probably trying to tell us. Xander shook his head, a disgusted scowl marring his features. And I-I turned him away. I drove him out. I was blind then, as I am blind now. But no more!”

He walked slowly, purposefully, to the staff. He bent down. “I can see now! I forgive him. I can see!” He grasped it with both hands and tugged on it hard, but his efforts proved unnecessary. The staff came away from the ground as if it weighed no more than a feather. A powerful glow that reminded him of the Messengers began to emanate from its crystal, and as he turned towards where the voice had been, joy and triumph written on his face, his gaze did not meet an empty field.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:48:00.000-07:00

Several times they were jerked forwards uncomfortably as the current rounded a curve that the boat couldn’t negotiate fast enough. They lost track of time as minutes seemed to stretch into hours, until a single thought seemed to consume them: staying beneath the boat. The only light was the faint glow of Alden’s crystal-tipped staff, which had burst into light at his whispered words. They didn’t talk, unsure how much farther they would have to travel or even how long the air would last.

Xander, given the choice, thought that he would rather die quickly, dashed against a large rock, then slowly drown or suffocate. He forced himself to push the morbid thoughts from his mind; he had to be a leader. But they kept creeping back to the forefront. With no breath to talk and nothing to do but let himself be helplessly carried away by the Ssorc, he found there was nothing else to think about. What would death be like? he wondered. Frightening? Lonely? Peaceful?

No. Think about Lily. Focus on her.

Maybe it won’t be so bad . . .

Focus . . .

Xander realized that his thoughts were spiraling slowly out of control. He felt fuzzy, dazed, and tired. Though it took a great deal of effort to speak and hold himself afloat at the same time, he forced himself to do so. “What’s happening?” he said, his words sounding a little fuzzy, just like the rest of him.

“We’re running out of air. Do not speak. Calm your heart rate. We have to conserve it as long as possible, or we’ll lose consciousness and drown ourselves.”

Thaladria’s voice was matter-of-fact, and although Xander’s state made him want to ask more questions, something in her tone kept him silent. He was vaguely aware that this was a life-or-death situation, but as the minutes stretched on, he began to stop caring.

“Xander . . .” Estelle’s voice came from far away. It was so difficult to hear over the creak and groan of the boat raking at the rock above them. Xander wasn’t sure how long it had taken him to realize something was wrong.

That’s when he understood what it was. The lethargy brought on by the lack of oxygen wouldn’t let him act with the speed he knew he needed.

“Thaladria,” he croaked. “Thaladria, the roof is collapsing!”

But it was too late. He turned to look and saw that the girl was already unconscious, Alden holding her around the waist, fighting to keep her head above the water even as his eyes fought to close.

“No. No!” Xander exclaimed. “Got to stay awake. Got to do something.” But there was nothing they could do. The boat was roaring in protest as the cavern finally forced it to give way. Wood splinters shattered and rushed towards Xander’s face, carried by a wave of water that crashed down on their heads. The boat was torn apart and the four of them, tied and tangled in their rope, were thrown under the surface. Xander’s last thought as the darkness overtook him was of his failure.

Lily, I’m so sorry.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:46:00.000-07:00

They threw him unceremoniously into a cell, slammed the door, and left.

Julian scrambled to the bars, peering across the hall. Nothing. He looked to his right. It was very dark, but he could make out the dim silhouette of Lily, curled up in the corner of the cell beside him. “Lily,” he whispered, then a little louder. He didn’t care what she thought of him. He had to make sure she was okay. “Lily!”

A faint reply came after a long hesitation. Her voice was weak. “Julian?”

Julian breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, Lily. It’s me. Are you okay?”

There was no answer for a long time. Julian wanted to ask again, but he was afraid he’d miss her response, so tired and small was her voice. Then it came from the corner, so quiet he almost could have been imagining it.

“Julian, I’m scared.”

His stomach twisted into a knot as a wave of protectiveness washed over him. He knew he’d done nothing in his life to deserve her friendship. He knew she was only talking to him because she was too weak to remember what he was. He scooted as close to the bars as he could, pushing one hand through, but she was out of reach and looked in no condition to move closer. He didn’t care if she hated him until the end of time. He would find a way to save her. “Lily, it’s okay. I’m here, okay? I’m going to be here all the time, watching out for you. Your friends are coming to rescue you. Then you can go wherever you want. Make a new home. Forget this place, forget me, forget this life. It’s going to be okay.” He knew he was feeding her a lot of false hope. But he knew it might be just enough to make her keep fighting. “How’s that sound, Lily? Sound good?”

“Duncan?” For a second Julian thought she’d forgotten who he was. Then he realized she was too weak to form a full sentence. She wanted to know about Duncan.

“I’m sorry, Lily.”

With an extreme amount of effort, she lifted herself onto all fours and crawled weakly across the cell, only to collapse again on the floor beside him as the strength left her. The action had been small, pathetic. But to Julian it was the most valiant deed he had ever seen accomplished.

Then she spoke again, so softly that he had to position himself closer to the ground in order to hear. “Duncan’s okay?”

“Lily . . .” He didn’t know what to say to her. Bile rose in his throat, and he fought to find the words. Did she truly not know? Did he really have to say it?

“Duncan okay?” she said again.

“No, Lily. Duncan’s gone.”

There was silence, then the sound of sobbing. Julian steeled his heart and leaned against the cool stone wall of his cell. Slowly, gently, he reached out, putting his hand on the soft, tangled mass of hair. He had expected her to recoil at his touch, but she was too weak to do anything but cry and nod. She knew it was true. She’d seen Duncan, seen his body, seen his actions. She knew that the young man that now threatened her very life was not her brother. Her brother was dead. This was just an imposter.

Shivers ran up Julian’s arm as she trembled, and he stroked her as soothingly as he could.

Slowly the sobbing subsided, and then there was silence again. But try as he might, Julian could coax nothing more out of Lily. He realized that it was not the pain alone draining her life. It was also the despair. She’d lost Duncan, failed to rescue him, and she knew it. She blamed herself even more than she blamed Julian, or else she wouldn’t even be talking to him. She was dying of a broken heart.

Please, Xander, you’ve got to hurry. She’s not going to make it much longer.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:41:00.001-07:00

Elt Sopa studied Xander, long and hard. “You know Lily much better than I, Xander. Tell me. Do you honestly believe that she would save her own life at the price of thousands of others?”

Xander hesitated and then shook his head slowly. The old man was right. She would give all of herself for the cause. “No, she wouldn’t. She’s not that kind of a person.”

“I didn’t think so. But as we speak, she is being forced to choose: the mark or death.”

“Lily would never take a mark that meant she was a slave to evil.”

“They will torture her until she does, and if she doesn’t, they’ll kill her. You must not waste time. You must find the Lost Kingdom before it is too late.”

“Yeah, well, sea serpents and whirlpools in the river don’t exactly help!”

“Nah Taivel is a servant of Sefil. That creature was sent to stop you but fortunately did not succeed. Teamwork and self-sacrifice saved you all.” At that, Xander’s heart skipped a beat. At the same time that he was infinitely proud of his companions and their bravery, he was disappointed in himself. He had stood by and done nothing in a time of dire need.

“But, Xander,” Elt Sopa said, “the whirlpool was not the river’s. It was yours. It grew out of the true feelings within your heart, your doubts and fears. They were strong indeed. Stronger than your will to go on.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. It disappeared!”

“That is because you chose to do the right thing, despite your fears. Just as you made it appear, you also forced it away when you decided to jump. Quite literally, you took a leap of faith, and your friends followed. Do you know why they listened to you, Xander?”

“Because they were faced with jumping or getting sucked into a swirling vortex of death?”
Sopa shook his head, a small smile appearing at the corners of his lips. “They feared death either way, so that is not it. They followed because they trust you. They will listen to your orders. Hewhay has given you the gift of leadership, yet you throw it away.”

“I’m no leader,” Xander mumbled, ashamed of himself.

“Only because you do not wish to be. Hewhay does not force things on people! Just as Lily wished not to be able to read the symbols that she herself carved, so you wish not to take on this burden of responsibility.”

Xander didn’t want to talk about it. He looked instead at the Messenger. “It was you who saved us! There was no way we would have made that jump. You helped us, didn’t you?”

The Messenger hummed on, neither answering nor even acknowledging the question.
“When the Messenger last appeared to us, in T’Sol, it said that it would not help anymore.”

“The first thing you should know,” explained Sopa, “is that it said it would not speed your course anymore, not that it would no longer aid you. The second thing is that it helped only because your intentions were pure, and because you did the right thing.”

Xander felt himself being drawn backwards, away from Elt Sopa. “Wait . . . I have more questions!” He was speeding quickly, faster and faster, leaving Elt Sopa behind just as they had when they’d set off in the boat.

“And they shall be answered!” Elt Sopa cried. “If you will only listen!”

“Elt Sopa!” Xander cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly. “What is the true name of the Lost Kingdom?”

Elt Sopa did not answer, but a strange crackling in the air behind Xander made him twist around. The Messenger was there, and it had opened one of its mysterious holes in space. Xander was speeding toward it at a dizzying pace. As he felt himself being sucked through, a voice in his head answered him. It was the Messenger’s voice, speaking clearly in a language that Xander could understand without Lily’s help.

“You seek the Kingdom of Ne De, child.”

Then he had passed through the hole, and he felt someone shaking him by the shoulders. As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the sky. To his surprise, he realized that the sun was in the same position it had been in when he’d drifted to sleep. It could not have been more than a few minutes ago. But why was he being they awakened so soon, when he had hardly slept the night before? He was about to complain angrily that his very important dream had been interrupted when Thaladria cut him off at the pass.

“Xander!” Thaladria whispered harshly, still shaking him. When she saw that he was now paying attention, she pointed west, behind him, and he turned to follow her gaze.

The sight before him drove all weariness from his body.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-23T04:34:00.000-07:00

Xander was torn away from his thoughts as he noticed a slight change in their motion. A few hours in a boat on a river, and you begin to feel accustomed to the flow of the water, but something had happened. He looked at Thaladria, who met his gaze with a look of understanding

.
“What was that?” he asked, knowing she had felt it too.

“We’re slowing down.” She looked over the side of the boat, and he did the same, trying to find the cause. Estelle shook Alden awake.

“What is it? What . . . what? I’m ready! We’ll take them!” he said, groggy and not quite awake. But it didn’t take him long to notice it as well. “Why are we going so slow?”

Thaladria shook her head. “There’s nothing under us; we’re not dragging. I don’t understand.”

“Nothing on this side either. And look!” cried Xander, using a rock on the river’s edge as a landmark, to test what he feared. “We haven’t just slowed. We’re going backwards!”

The four children turned as one, fear filling their hearts. Behind them, as if from nowhere, a great whirlpool had formed in the middle of the river. It was sucking them in.

“We’ve got to do something!” cried Thaladria. She and Xander took up the oars, which up until now had sat useless. Now they paddled with all their might, but it only seemed that they could still their movement, not push forwards. And they were quickly tiring.

“Quick, Alden! My staff!” Estelle shouted, and Alden turned to rummage by his feet for it. He found it, and they pushed and shoved themselves, trying to face the back of the boat. Xander glanced over his shoulder to see what they were trying to do, but he couldn’t help but look at the whirlpool swirling menacingly behind them. Where had it come from? Surely the river wasn’t deep enough to create something so powerful.

Estelle put the crystal tip of her staff into the water and spoke some of her ancient words. “Tnionau oyseim eneymf oecnes . . . ,” she began, crying loudly, eyes closed, body tensed. “Neserpeh tniem erofeb elbata eraperpu oy!” A sudden jet of water burst from her staff, so powerful that it nearly shot out of her hands, and it took both her and Alden to wrestle the tip back under the surface. Thaladria and Xander stopped rowing hesitantly, but it seemed that for the moment they were safe. They were not moving forwards, but at least they were no longer headed backwards.

“This is not getting us anywhere,” Estelle warned them. “We have to think of something!”

“We’ve got to row to shore!” Alden cried over the din of Estelle’s magic, doing his best to keep her staff under the water.

“We’ll never make it. The river’s too wide. We’ll be pulled in.” Thaladria’s logic was obvious. The whirlpool was not far. If they turned the boat, there was no way they’d make it all the way to the river’s edge before being sucked in and capsized.

“What if we jump out?” Alden said. “If we can make it most of the way, we can jump to shore. It’s a risk, but it could work.”

“No way!” cried Xander. “I am not losing this boat again! If we lose this boat, we’re never going to find Lily. We can’t build another; there’s nothing to build it with. We’ll never find the Lost Kingdom in time!”

“Please, Xander,” Estelle pleaded, sweat beading on her tan forehead. “This whirlpool isn’t natural. It’s too powerful for my magic.” The staff was clearly pushing hard to remove itself from where they needed it to be.

“No!” Alden exclaimed. “We’ll never even have a chance if we’re all dead!”

Xander only had a moment to make a decision. He thought of Lily, of what she would do in his shoes. He knew they wouldn’t survive being sucked into that swirling pool of death. Branches that had fallen into the river were being swallowed by it before his eyes, sucked into the middle and ripped to shreds by the sheer force of the water. He bit his tongue. He knew what he had to do. The lives of the other three were in his hands. He couldn’t let them down.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he whispered, praying in his heart that she would somehow hear and understand. Then he yelled, trying to make himself heard over the growing roar of the swirling vortex. “All right, we don’t have a second to waste! Thaladria, grab that oar! Alden, Estelle, when I tell you to, use the staff to push us so we’re angled towards the edge. We’ll use the oars and the staff to push us close enough to the side to jump out. If we don’t do this quick, we’re going to be pushing ourselves right in. You understand?”

Thaladria’s eyes were wide with fright, but she had the oar in hand, ready to follow his orders without questioning. They all knew what they had to do, and they were not complaining.

Xander took up his oar and started rowing as fast as he could, building a steady, hard rhythm with Thaladria’s. “Ready?” he called back to the twins. “Now!

With difficulty, the two managed to drag the staff around to the side of the boat. In the split second that it took the boat to turn slightly, they shot towards the whirlpool like an arrow. “Get it back behind us! Now!” cried Xander, and the twins did so. They were now dangerously close, and the swirling current threatened to overtake them. Row, row, row! Xander’s mind cried. We have to make it. Come on! Row! “Okay, let it drift in a bit. Good, keep it up!” Now they were skirting the outer arm of the vortex, using it to speed towards the river’s edge. But if they weren’t careful, they’d simply fly past and lose any hope that they had of reaching safety.

They were approaching fast. “Quick! Straighten it out!” They were just in time to stop themselves from whirling around too far. But Xander’s arms felt as they were going to fall off, and no matter how strong she was, Thaladria couldn’t row them alone.

His heart was pounding. The staff and their oars made little headway against the dangerous current, but at least they were moving, inching, towards the shore. A little farther. Almost there! But Xander’s heart sank. Try as they might, they seemed just out of reach of the shore. The boat groaned, threatening to burst into pieces as two powerful forces tried to pull it in opposite directions. Even if they jumped, they’d never make it. They’d fall into the water and be crushed to death.

They had no choice.

“We have to jump now!”

“Are you crazy? We’ll never make it!”

“We don’t have a choice! We’re not getting any closer!”

The staff quickly sputtered and died. There was no time to think.

“Now!” cried Xander, fear wrenching at him like a dagger being twisted in his gut. He’d done the right thing by his friends, he knew that. But there was no way they would survive. All four of them jumped at once, pushing off from the floor of the tiny boat with all their might, and it sped out from under their feet. In his mind’s eye, he could see them, four fragile bodies falling into the water, being sucked into the whirlpool like so many tiny sticks, torn apart and swallowed up, never to be seen again.

He shut his eyes. So did everyone else

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-10T17:45:00.001-07:00

He trailed his hand in the cool water racing alongside the boat, lost in his thoughts. The next few minutes happened so fast that when he looked back afterwards, he would hardly be able to describe what had happened.

Something firm and smooth brushed against his hand, and he jumped. Thaladria and the twins eyed him as if waiting for an explanation, but he could give none. He looked down into the water, trying to peer through the frothy white surface, but it was no use. “I felt something,” he said cautiously.

“A fish?” suggested Estelle.

Xander shook his head. “No. It was big. Hard. It must have been a rock or something . . .” His voice trailed off at the doubtful look on Thaladria’s face. He followed her gaze from one distant bank to the other.

“We’re out much too deep for there to be rocks,” she said. “It would have to have been enormous.”

Xander shrugged and scrunched himself back down into his crowded seat. “You’re right. I guess it must have been my imagination.” He paused, looking over the side once more before assuring himself there was nothing there. “A lot on my mind.” He didn’t need to go on. The others nodded sympathetically.

Suddenly something rocked the boat so violently that everyone had to grab hold to keep from falling in the water. “What was that?” cried Alden, but no one had time to answer. A great blue-white snout broke the water’s surface and sped upwards with a deafening roar. Giant teeth flashed like gleaming swords in the sunlight, and as the head raced heavenwards, more and more of its long, serpentine body was revealed.

“It’s a sea serpent! It’s huge!” screamed Thaladria over the roar of the creature, trying with difficulty to get her footing in the tiny boat as the waves threatened to capsize them. The creature’s upper body crashed back down into the water in an enormous arch.
“It’s Nah Taivel!” cried Estelle.

“Introductions later, Estelle!” Alden quipped. “Xander, what are we going to do?”

“What?” Xander shouted back. “How should I know? Think I’ve battled many giant snakes in my life?” But their arguing ceased as the true mass of the creature was revealed. All around them, the arching curves of its body broke the surface in such a multitude that it looked almost as if the river were boiling. The simple fact that it could move around was astonishing, given its size. They were surrounded in a churning forest of blue-white scales, and not one of them could tell from which direction the head might reappear, or how soon. Xander had managed to unsheathe his swords, but his balance was so precarious that he feared he was more apt to skewer himself than have any hope of wounding Nah Taivel.

“Elt Sopa might have warned us of giant sea snakes!” cried Alden in despair.

“There’s no time to argue about that! Suggestions of any kind, on the other hand, are welcome!”

Xander hollered to his companions just as the creature’s tail appeared from the water.

“Watch out!” cried Thaladria as the tail whipped towards them. But it didn’t knock them out of the boat as Xander had feared, instead smacking the side with such force that the wood splintered, leaving a gaping hole where the side of their boat had been. Nearly falling out, Xander dropped one of his blades into the bottom of the boat. He scrambled for it, but Thaladria grabbed his arm.

“It’s no use, Xander. You’ll kill yourself before you hurt him. There’s got to be another way.”
“Any ideas?”

She looked at the mass of slithering scaly hide that surrounded them and her face hardened. “Just one.” She bent low, preparing for something. Estelle looked at her, wide-eyed and fearful.
“Thaladria, what are you doing?”

Realization came too late for Xander. It was immediately right before them, a giant head like that of a dragon. For a split second, it hung suspended far above them. Then it opened its cavernous mouth and flashed towards them with an incredible speed.

“Thaladria, no!” cried Alden, reaching out to grab her, but he was too slow. With one agile motion, she leapt into the air, dagger in hand. She landed right above the serpent’s muzzle and, without hesitation, drove her knife straight through its left eye.

If the creature was angry before, now it was furious. It screamed with rage, a sticky silver substance that must have been blood spurting from its blinded eye. It shook its head with great heaves, trying to wrest Thaladria from her perch, but the Tehporp girl knew no fear. She scrambled for support, hanging onto Nah Taivel’s giant nose for dear life. Xander watched with bated breath, completely helpless. He knew she was waiting for a chance to jump, but that chance was not forthcoming. The monster thrashed without pause, screaming and roaring as it tried to dislodge her. All three of them in the boat ducked as the head swooped low, threatening to knock them all overboard. As Xander stood again, he caught Thaladria’s eyes. In a single moment, her eyes said more to him than she could have spoken in an hour. His heart cried out for him to do something . . . to stop her.

“I’m sorry,” said her eyes.

“No,” he whispered. “Please . . .”

But they sparkled with determination, brilliant green emeralds among a sea of blue and white.
In an impossible maneuver, Thaladria let go of the creature’s muzzle and spun herself around in a final desperate attempt to save her friends. She lashed out, and the sun caught the edge of her blade just before it was buried deep in Nah Taivel’s other eye. The creature roared louder than ever, and with a final wicked thrashing of its head, the beast threw Thaladria. She hung

suspended in the air for a moment, helpless, and then it was over. She plunged into the coils of serpent surrounding her friends . . . and disappeared.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

Xander walked up to Julian and stood an inch away, glaring into his face. “He said, ‘Tell Julian I have succeeded where he has failed, and that our master is very displeased with him.’”

Without warning he grabbed Julian’s right hand and ripped off his glove.Thaladria gasped. “The mark of loyalty. Then it is true. It was all a lie, everything.”

“Thaladria, wait . . . everyone. Please. I was going to tell you. I know I was wrong; I was just coming to tell you—”

“Forget it, Julian! I’m not falling for any more of your lies. I didn’t trust you, but you let me blame myself, and sure enough, I came around. I even started to like you! Can you imagine?” He shoved Julian, and Julian didn’t fight back. He felt defeated, terrified. Alone. “I should kill you for what you’ve done. I should kill you for Lily. We’ll find her. We don’t need you. We’ll find your master, and then I’ll kill him, too. And if he harms her, if he touches her . . .” He didn’t finish.J

ulian looked to Thaladria, raising his arms, but she looked away, tears on her face.“Just go, Julian.”

He backed away, looking at the twins, looking for any of the warmth that had been there just hours before. But not even Elt Sopa would meet his gaze.

Something inside him got defensive. So much for friendship.Xander was watching Julian with rage. He reached up and drew both swords off his back, breathing heavily, and Thaladria stepped forwards to calm him, but he shrugged her off.

Julian turned to go.

“Don’t you turn your back on me, Julian!”

He felt an icy cold feeling in his heart, and a scowl came over his face like a storm cloud. He faced Xander, throwing Lily’s bow to the ground and unsheathing Duncan’s sword, which felt heavy and cool in his hand. “You don’t want to do this, Xander. If you fight me, I’ll kill you. You know that.”

A roar of anger escaped from Xander’s throat, contorting his face until it was unrecognizable, and he lunged at Julian with an inhuman strength that only pain can bring. But Julian was faster. As Xander’s blades neared Julian’s chest, he parried with ease. He dropped back, then thrust forwards, perhaps just a hair slower than he was able, and Xander dodged. Back and forth they fought, blind rage controlling Xander’s arm, and a bitter cold controlling Julian’s.Xander’s anger fueled him, but he was no match for Julian’s swordsmanship. Blow for blow, the other boy blocked, threatened, and defended his space without ever advancing. The clash of metal as time and again blade met blade filled the forest glade as Xander spun. He was almost dancing, the points of his blades now trying to puncture the flesh of his traitorous comrade, despite how many times the two had fought side by side. Xander had forgotten the Nomed, the Snagap, the words of trust he had shared with Julian. All he could feel was the hatred and betrayal that filled him near to bursting. He slashed at Julian with his left blade, twirling in a circle with the full force of his blow and coming round again to bring his right hand down in an arch for the kill. He had a height advantage, and he easily could have driven his blade to the hilt into Julian’s skull if the other boy hadn’t brought his sword over his head and swept Xander’s blade to the side. Julian felt the cool edge of the blade as it glanced across his cheek, drawing blood, but he didn’t feel any pain.Julian’s anger was growing too.

“Are you really ready to do this, Xander?” he cried angrily, filling the clearing with a voice full of despair. Now he was an enemy to both sides, with nothing to live for on either. Maybe he should just stop fighting, let Xander have what he really wanted. But was he really ready for the end? “Are you truly ready? Because if you don’t kill me, I will kill you. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. Can you?”

But Xander didn’t answer. Julian realized that the boy was deaf to his admonitions, everything he said drowned out by the anger.How could he have ever felt that he could belong here, with these people? How could he have risked his own life to save Xander’s?

His thought was interrupted when he felt something hard against his back. He’d been cornered against a tree. Xander really thought he could beat him, eh? Julian had different plans.Xander was pressing hard, both blades flush against Julian’s sword. Julian could feel the rough bark biting against his back, but now the other boy seemed unsure what to do. Julian felt certain that Xander had never dealt a killing blow before, and so he took advantage of that. He let his pressure wane, allowing Xander’s blades closer to his body. Sure enough, Xander hesitated, just as Julian had anticipated. He pulled in his own blade, raising his foot and kicking Xander in the chest, throwing him backwards. Xander scrambled to his feet, but they both knew he had lost the advantage. Julian swung heavily, forcing Xander to block, not giving him time to recuperate before bringing another angry blow down on him. One after another the attacks rained down, and it was simply a matter of time before Xander tired enough to drop his guard. Finally he backed up and snagged his heel against a rock, falling heavily to the ground, one of his swords flying from his grasp and into the trees. Julian was beside him in an instant, the blade of Duncan’s sword at Xander’s throat, his heart pounding, chest heaving. Xander glared defiantly, unafraid, pressing himself against it so that a thin trickle of blood escaped from beneath the point of the blade.“Go ahead,” he growled. “Kill me as you have wished to all along. As you have Lily. For now she’s sentenced to death! And you are the cause.”

Thaladria ran forwards. Julian had forgotten that she was even there. “Julian! No! Please no!”

But Julian was already backing away. These children were no match for Sefil. They’d be sacrificing themselves if they tried to get anywhere near the castle. He sheathed the sword and spoke again. He had to make them turn back.“You can’t beat him, you idiots. Turn around and go home. How could you ever think that someone like me would be friends with a bunch of sniveling fools like you? Don’t come anywhere near the castle. If I see you there, I won’t show the same mercy.” He glowered at Xander.

Julian was walking backwards as he spoke, and something began to happen. Everything that had fought its way to the surface over their journey together was smoldering inside him, until nothing remained but a pile of ashes.

He disappeared into the woods, leaving the others behind him. Xander ran after him, shouting and crying. But he was gone.

It was almost as if he’d flown away.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-06T17:09:00.001-07:00

“I made a promise to myself that no matter what, I’d do my best to stay strong. I don’t want everyone to treat me like a kid. I don’t want them to tiptoe around me, worrying that they’ll make me sad. You know?” Her voice shook as she continued. “But no matter how hard I try, it seems I just can’t get it right.” She tried to appear nonchalant as she wiped the tears off her face. “Stupid sand,” she mumbled unconvincingly before she looked at him again.

“I’m sorry, Julian. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” She laughed nervously. “Probably because I know you’re the only one who won’t really care. Oh!” she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. Please don’t take that the wrong way. I just meant that you’re always so blunt. You would never worry about hurting me. And that’s okay. It’s good that you’re honest.”

Her words hit him like a boulder. You would never worry about hurting me. It’s good that you’re honest. Half was the truth, and half was a lie. All lie, the little voice whispered. Shut up, he told it. He realized then that she was expecting him to say something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what.

He stopped walking and faced her, taking in her tear-stained face as he spoke. He could smell her pleasant, feminine smell. It acted on him like a powerful drug. He felt taken in. At ease. Almost trusting. Her hair whispered across her face like a shadow, the breeze dancing with the delicate locks to an unheard song. The words he spoke next came from deep inside him, from a part of himself that he could not remember ever being there before.

“Lily, no one is expecting you not to be sad.” Something twisted in his stomach. He remembered the storm, her frightened hands clenching his arm, the shiver that had spread from her fingertips to his spine. He wanted to reach out, to touch her hair. It looked so soft, so beautiful.

“No one in your position should have to be strong, not in times like these.” What was happening to him? “But you’re a lot stronger than you think. You have to believe me. That’s the truth.”
She was looking at the ground, blinking hard to keep the tears back, but they managed to break free, falling like crystal raindrops to the sand below. Instinctively, he reached out and touched her face. Lily’s heart leapt from her chest to her throat. His palm was warm and dry . . . and so gentle. She had never expected such from Julian. Not him, not the cold, calculating boy who didn’t really seem to care about anyone. She looked up at him. The emotion on his face was so powerful that she nearly stepped back. His icy gaze had melted away, and concern and longing were etched into his face, his eyes. He brushed a single tear from her cheek with his thumb.
He wanted to hold her close to him, he realized now. He wanted to keep her safe. Protect her. Die for her. There was nothing he would rather do. He wanted to . . . kiss her.

Sharp pains overtook his chest, and he set his teeth to keep from flinching. He clutched at it with both hands, unconsciously brushing his one hand against the glove covering the other, reminding himself of his true purpose.

I’m a monster, he realized. Pure and simple.

He turned swiftly and walked back towards camp, leaving her behind him, angry with himself.

Idiot! Where did all that mush come from? If she knew what you were really like, she’d probably try to stick a sword through your chest. You’re responsible for all her pain! Don’t you know that? What were you thinking? She’d hate you if she knew you! She’d hate you. You’re a monster. You don’t even deserve to speak to someone like her. The pain in his chest and the voice in his head both got stronger, and he clutched at his heart, falling to his knees, a groan escaping his lips. Lily caught up to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Julian! Are you all right?”

He was grimacing, but he struggled to his feet. “I’m fine,” he snapped. “Don’t touch me.” She backed away at his tone. “Just go back to bed. You can’t expect to rescue anyone if you don’t sleep.”

Much better. It was as if he were a completely different person than the one who had just spoken such kind words to her. The pain started to recede, and the voice quieted. In its place came a real noise, far off in the distance. Lily heard it too, and there was fear in her eyes, though whether it was because of him or the noise, Julian couldn’t be sure.

“What is it?”

“No . . . not now. Not now!” Julian’s words were a fierce whisper, meant only for himself. He grabbed Lily’s arm and shouted over the din that was growing louder by the second. A large black cloud was approaching them. “Run!” She never questioned but broke into a sprint towards the camp. They were actually approaching the cloud, but they had to get to the others. Lily didn’t know what was happening, but she knew it was bad. She nearly kept pace with Julian, but her chest felt ready to burst. She hadn’t realized how far they’d gotten from camp. She looked up into the sky and saw individual shapes in the cloud now.

No, that isn’t a cloud. But what? she thought, fear consuming her.

They reached the others, who were up, covering their ears. “What is it?” called Xander.

“Snagap! It’s the Snagap! We have to get to El Bib!”

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-06T17:06:00.001-07:00

“It’s delightful,” said one of the nomads, “to have unexpected company. Few in your villages trust us completely; they suspect dark magic in that we travel safely through the wooded terrain of your countryside.” He was a portly bearded man whose level of kindness was matched only by the size of his belly, which he patted absentmindedly as he spoke.
“Are you fearful of traveling here, though, sir?” asked Thaladria, matching his enthusiasm and managing to keep the warning tone in her voice from sounding hostile. “We have seen many strange things in these forests, not all of which are friendly.”
“Aye,” came a voice from behind her, and they all turned as a kind-faced woman approached, a teetering tray balanced on one arm and an infant squalling in the other, which held a pitcher as well. The woman came and stood beside the man, whom had introduced himself as Warren, placing the tray before the children as she reached up to give him a loving peck on the cheek. She matched his height, and her rotund nature was not unpleasant. It gave her a rather matriarchal look. She bounced the infant up and down on her hip, trying to quell his screams as she continued.
“We have ourselves seen a number of strange things. Not the least of which,” she added with a large smile, “is yourself, young Tehporp.”
“Indeed!” cried the man with a jolly cheer. “You are the first of your kind that I have seen with more than a fleeting glimpse. It is quite an honor to meet you.” He then wrapped one large arm around the woman and squeezed her and the child close. “And this is my wife, Laurine, and my youngest son, Ethan. We are all honored to make your acquaintance.”
Thaladria smiled and nodded her thanks. Then she looked at the woman and held out her hands. “May I?” she inquired gently.
“Oh, by all means,” said Laurine, handing over the pudgy-faced infant with a look of relief evident on her face. “I’ve got three more of the squirming rascals running around, and I would love to get my hands on them. They wander off, see, and I don’t like ’em getting too far from the wagons.” She hurried off then, leaving Warren to entertain their guests as she bustled about, grabbing her charges as they darted out from between the wagons amid a wave of other small children. Lily laughed, enjoying the sight of young people running around, carefree and not yet fettered by the harsh truths of the world. In her village, there had been few younger than Duncan, who was sixteen. Most of the villagers were too old to have children, and those who weren’t feared mixing bloodlines too often. It had been, she decided, a dying village. Everyone unwilling to leave, and few to carry on the traditions to the next generation. Though a warm feeling eminated from the traders’ camp, the thoughts of Duncan and her village left her cold inside, and she shuddered as she clasped her wooden cup of ale, wondering how he fared.
To clear her mind, she focused her attention on her comrades. Julian had remained quiet and sullen since reaching the camp, lost in his own thoughts, so Lily didn’t bother him. Xander seemed relieved and gladdened by the traders. He was turned on his stump, speaking in animated tones to a boy about their age, maybe seventeen or eighteen, who had appeared from one of the wagons. Thaladria had become entranced by the infant in her arms, cooing softly to him as his chubby fingers explored first her fiery hair, then her fur-covered ears. She laughed aloud as he wrenched her head at an uncomfortable angle, and Lily reached out to unclasp his tiny fistful of hair so that the other girl could move again. Thaladria took it as a signal that Lily wished to hold the child, so she handed Ethan over and took out her flute. Drooling slightly in his happiness, the child clapped and squealed with glee at the new, exotic sounds that she produced. Lily smiled. It was a nice feeling, holding the baby.
“Ah,” said Warren with a cheerful grin and another pat on his generous torso, “ready at last!”
Several traders laid before their guests a wide array of dishes, including steaming fowl of a variety of shapes, warm bread loaves, cheese, wine, milk, butter, potatoes, stew, and a variety of more exotic foods that looked and smelled delicious. The seemingly wild pack of children that had been trying desperately to evade Laurine’s grasp now came rocketing around the corner of one of the wagons, jumping at the food as their mother screamed helplessly, “Manners, children! Manners!” They settled down around the visitors, gawking openly at Thaladria and at Julian, who had an uncomfortable look on his face as one of the children, a girl, pressed herself up against him and smiled warmly. He tried to scoot farther down the bench he was on, but he bumped into Lily, who, seeing his predicament, grinned widely.
“I see you’re making friends, then, Julian?” She and the others laughed, but Julian remained stone-faced.
“Loft a toof!” said the girl brightly, pointing at the hole in her smile and drawing herself up proudly. Her lips and nose were covered in a thin layer of white powder, evidence of the cake she had spent the last hour trying to find and eat in secret.
“Good for you,” said Julian uncertainly, looking around for an escape route. There was none.
“My brofer loft free of ’em, but I’ll catch up!” When Julian said nothing, she stood up on the bench, her full height reaching just about as high as Julian’s head when sitting. She cupped a hand around his ear and whispered conspiratorially.
“I’m older ’an him, but he only loft ’em ’cause I knocked two of ’em out!” she confided with glee.
“Not true!” shouted a boy next to her, and they began pushing each other back and forth, knocking Julian around as he tried to eat.
“Children!” tried Laurine again, a note of resignation in her voice.
After eating, the girls helped Laurine clear the plates and platters as some of the men broke down the table, loading it back into the cart. Warren stood before Julian and Xander, both hands on his round belly, nodding and clucking his tongue as he looked around.
“Well, I guess that’ll be that, then, eh?”
“Indeed,” said Xander, speaking for all of them. “Thank you so much for your hospitality and for selling us these fine horses and supplies. We are much in your debt.”
“Jes doin’ my job, boy, doin’ my job. No need to thank me, although it has been a pleasure. Glad that at least once in your life, you got to try some of me wife’s cookin’.” He held out one of his arms, offering it to Xander, who shook it firmly. The girls returned with Laurine, who gave each of the four a fierce hug before waving them off. As she hugged Julian, who accepted awkwardly, the pudgy-faced child squeaked and grabbed his ear, yanking as he chortled with delight. The others laughed heartily, and then the two groups parted ways. The traders were making their way to Des Ruc, and the children had no desire to turn back that way. Instead, they continued their trek south, with fresh horses and a load of new tack, food, and tools. Lily had even replenished her quiver, and each had come away with several new sets of clothes, compliments of Warren. He insisted that they take them, saying that anyone who flattered him as much as they had deserved something back.
At long last, and not soon enough as far as Julian was concerned, they broke through the tree line and into the sun. They had reached the plains of Eci Fircas.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-05T17:08:00.000-07:00

“Why!” exclaimed Thaladria, then more quickly and with a strange enthusiasm: “Imbir Seugn’ot ruvo’c?”The twins stopped talking then, and the girl cast her head to the side, looking worriedly behind Lily and her band at the storm. The boy was the one who actually spoke first.“Yes, yes—we speak many languages. But now is not the time for idle chitchat, I’m afraid.

A storm approaches.” His brow was furrowed in a manner that seemed unbecoming of his features, and Lily was sure that something more than the storm was bothering him, though she wasn’t sure how she could know that.“Yeah, we noticed that, genius,” said Julian unkindly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re trying to find shelter.” Julian’s tone was sarcastic and cold, but neither twin noticed.“Syro-cu? It yama?”“Alden! Ekul’a! Ekul’a!”“What are they saying?” Lily whispered quietly to Thaladria, whom the twins had seemed to forget.“She wants to do something. But he says it’s too risky.”“I know the word ekul’a. It means ‘the same,’ right?”“Yes. In the context, she is saying that we are all the same.” Thaladria looked Lily directly in the eyes. “I tell you this, Lily, I sense that the storm approaching will be unlike anything we’ve ever experienced—and these two know that.” A huge light filled the quickly darkening sky, followed by an enormous thunderclap. Lily instinctively cupped her hands over her ears. The sound was tremendous, like nothing she’d ever heard before, and the flash had blinded her. Though she had experienced storms in the past, they were nothing like this unbridled tempest, the light and sound erupting around them like a sudden downpour that had caught them by surprise. In the past, she had always had a home to run to. Now, here in this wide-open place, there was nothing at all. No shelter, no protection, no feeling of safety. A pure, primal fear ripped at her gut, and it took everything she had to keep herself from running.“We have to secure the horses!” yelled Lily to the others. She had nearly been thrown from her mount when the horse heard the thunder, and she wasn’t about to be crushed beneath the mare’s hooves after all the distance they’d traveled.As if unaware of the storm that was now threatening to crush them all, the twins kept talking in Seugn’ot. Finally, after long minutes, Alden hollered over the roar of the wind. “Fine!” he shouted. “Fine!”Julian could tell that whatever happened, it wouldn’t be good. The storm was an angry mass of broiling black clouds, and it threatened to converge on them at any moment. He helped stake the horses down and tried to calm them, but it was no use.As for Xander, he didn’t think they were going to make it. “Can’t we outrun it?” he screamed over the fierce wind, not really asking anyone in particular. There was no hope of that now. The storm stretched to the eastern horizon and was moving so quickly that he knew they’d never get far enough fast enough.“You can’t outrun one of these!” said the male twin. “Trust me on this! But don’t worry; everyone gather around the horses!”Julian didn’t like taking orders, especially from strangers, but the boy’s voice had a commanding quality to it that made him obey. They huddled close to their steeds, and everyone turned to watch a giant wall of water approaching. It was a hundred yards away now, coming down like solid sheets of rain, blanketing the parched earth. Eighty yards. They could see more lightning dancing from cloud to cloud with deadly speed. Sixty yards. It struck the ground in the distance, leaving a glassy sheet steaming beneath the rain where sand had once been. It was so close. Fifty yards.And it was closing in on them without mercy.Ever closer.“Now, Alden!” cried the girl.Twenty yards away now. They could see the flash flood that the storm had created; several inches of water built up in a matter of minutes. What can he possibly do? thought Lily. Even if the flooding didn’t become terribly dangerous, the lightning could kill them all in an instant.Alden raised his staff, yelling words that no one could hear now; they were washed away by the sounds of the storm. The green stone at its tip began to glow with power, and the girl, Estelle, pulled their own horses and the donkey closer to the others, encouraging everyone with wild gestures to pull closer to her.Ten yards.Alden jabbed the staff into the ground in front of the group.The storm crashed down around them, but none of them felt the rain. They were suddenly cloaked in darkness, rain pounding whatever encased them with a furious thump, thump, thump. The only source of light was Alden’s green stone, which bathed the terrified faces of everyone in a pale glow.Julian couldn’t believe what had just happened. Before anyone else could understand, he knew. This boy, this teenage kid, had just used . . . “Magic,” he said aloud

The Secrets of Serised

2009-04-01T05:57:00.000-07:00

“Where did it go!” cried Lily. “Did you see that? It was one of them!” Everyone nodded, but as they all looked around, they could not spot the creature anywhere.Lily suddenly felt sluggish.Xander commented on it. “Do any of you . . . feel strange . . . at all?”Julian’s eyes came to life.

“It’s hiding from us. It’s using its powers. Quickly, you idiots, move. We’re blocking its escape!” But it was too late. The creature had been threatened and cut off from its tunnel. Without warning, a giant hand knocked Thaladria to the ground, and with a roar, the Nomed easily grabbed her around the ankle and began to draw her away. Thaladria swatted at it uselessly as the sluggish trance shifted the creature in and out of their vision.“Focus on it! We can’t fight it like this. Focus on the creature. We know it’s there. That’s half the battle. Do it now!” Julian’s sword was out, and he fought the desire to sit. Xander drew his blades too. The creature was already inside the mouth of the tunnel. Lily somehow managed to break free of its magic and rush forwards, grabbing Thaladria by the arms.“Don’t let go!” she shouted.“Excellent plan! Any more brilliant ideas?” Thaladria’s voice was terrified. Now all of them seemed a little more able to move freely, but Lily couldn’t hold Thaladria alone; the Nomed was just too powerful. She was being dragged in too. Julian and Xander were trying to come to their aid, but the creature’s magic was strong, and their movements were slow, ackward. It seemed very much like they weren’t moving at all.“Lily!” Xander cried. “Quick! Your bow, use your bow!” Of course! Lily’s eyes met Thaladria’s, and they exchanged a nod of understanding. They both let go at once and Lily drew her bow with lightning speed. “Come on, you can’t miss him,” she mumbled to herself. “Here goes.” She aimed into the mouth of the tunnel, unable to see the Nomed, and let her arrow fly.The arrow seemed to stop in midair, its tip invisible, buried in the unseen mass of the creature. The Nomed appeared suddenly, filling the cavern entrance, its spell broken by the pain of Lily’s arrow, and Thaladria’s back end hit the ground with a thud as its roar of pain and anger echoed off the tunnel walls. Lily had hit him in the back of the head. The creature had dropped Thaladria, and she scrambled out into the opening as fast as she could, but the heavy footfalls of the Nomed were right behind her. Lily grabbed Thaladria again and dragged her farther from the cavern. Julian and Xander met the creature with weapons drawn.The fight was trying. Lily got off a few more shots, but it seemed that the head of the creature was the only vulnerable part. Whenever she hit it anywhere else, the Nomed simply snapped her arrows and tossed them to the ground, as if they were nothing more than thorns. Finally she gave up wasting them in order to tend to Thaladria, who had crawled off to the side, out of the way of the battle, nursing a fast-swelling ankle.Lily tried to push her fear for Julian and Xander out of her mind. They were two armed young men against a demon with no weapon but incredible strength. Julian repeatedly thrust his sword, and Xander had more than he could handle just keeping the creature from grabbing him by throat and snapping his neck like a twig. His blades seemed useless, slicing at the creature’s arms to no avail. They continued piercing its mismatched skin but it seemed the creature could not die. A powerful blow knocked down both of them down. Julian’s sword was inside the creature, but with no more ceremony than someone pulling a splinter from his finger, it took the sword by the hilt and drew it out, snapping it in two with ease and throwing it to the ground.“It just keeps going!” Xander cried, awe and fear in his voice as he scrambled to his feet.“I noticed!” hollered Julian, looking around for something to use as a weapon while the creature shuffled toward him, arms outstretched.“Julian! Here!” Lily was beside him, handing him a sword.“His head, Julian. That’s your best shot!” Thaladria was still on the ground, cradling her swollen ankle in both hands.Julian nodded and motioned for Lily to get back. The Nomed was coming to finish the job. It was so angry that it was nearly bursting at the seams. With its arms swinging back and forth in great, sweeping arcs, it didn’t seem as if he’d be able to get close enough to it. But just then Xander appeared behind it, driving both of his swords deep into its side. The creature roared and started to turn, momentarily forgetting to swing. It was all the invitation Julian needed. He planted his right foot, grabbed the hilt of the sword in both hands, and stepped forwards, swinging upwards with all his strength. As blade met flesh, the sword sliced right through the neck of the horrid monstrosity, severing head from body. Both pieces fell, still at last, to the ground

The Secrets of Serised

2009-03-27T16:33:00.000-07:00

He stopped quickly, surveying the bank on both sides of the stream. There was something amiss. He sensed someone, or something, watching him, but it was too stealthy to be a human. He made his way to the edge of the river, his senses on high alert, and stooped down to fill the water skins. He removed his left glove so as not to get it wet, but he did not dare remove the other, as he was fearful of being seen by whatever was watching him. It was a new experience for him, being able to sense someone but unable to tell where he was.

When the first skin was full, he tied it and set it aside. As he was reaching down to fill the second one, something appeared out of the air above him, two feet in front of his face. It startled him so badly that he lost his footing and fell headfirst into the shallow waters of the river. He emerged, coughing and sputtering and uncharacteristically shaken, dragging himself back onto the bank and rolling onto his back, gasping for breath. The individual, it turned out, was not human; she was a forest creature, one of the Tehporp, a race that looked similar in face and form to humans, but with the ears, tail, and senses of a fox.

Julian hated the Tehporp.

Her sewn clothes and powerful muscles did nothing to take away from her striking features, despite the fact that she was dressed like no woman Julian had ever seen. She wore a sleeveless shirt that looked as if it had been hewn out of grass fibers. Her pants were rough and worn, the color of tree bark, hugging tightly to her body and ending just below her knees. A braided leather belt was tied around her delicate waist, holding a small pouch and an exotic dagger snugly in place. She was laughing uncontrollably, hanging upside down with her back legs around a tree branch, her hands hanging down and swaying like the fronds of a willow.

Julian’s natural character slipped back into place, and anger furrowed his brow. He stood, trying unsuccessfully to brush the sand from his drenched clothes, as the creature before him continued to laugh, clutching her stomach to try to contain her convulsions.

“Come down from there, you mangy stray, so I can kill you. What in the name of all that is sacred did you think you were doing?” Julian used the phrase without thinking, and if circumstances had been different, he might have snickered. For him, nothing was sacred. He was still wiping angrily at the sand as she managed to stifle her laughter; she dropped gracefully, turning in midair to land on her feet before him. Her bright green eyes sparkled with life; dainty, fox-like ears peeked out shyly from a shock of red hair that framed her small face. She moved with surprising freedom, not at all like a lady, but instead as careless as the wind.

“I like you!” she said, circling around him once, eying his sand-encrusted frame up and down.

He ignored this, keeping his eyes down, instead studying the dagger at her waist. It was a strange design, not straight but with a blade that curved several times before coming to a point. The hilt was carved from cherrywood and engraved with vines that led to flowers made from inlaid jades, sapphires, and emeralds. Julian knew that the Tehporp did not have any type of monetary system. They didn’t care about the value of the stones, only that they were pleasant to look at. They were excellent hand-to-hand fighters, extremely fast with incredible reflexes. Even still, Julian was certain that this creature was no match for him, armed or not, and he almost wished that he could take the opportunity to prove it.

She finished examining him, coming full circle to stand in front of him again. “My name is Thaladria, of the Tehporp.” She bowed deeply and a little dramatically, her fluffy tail curving around her legs, its tip twitching back and forth as if with a mind of its own.

“I don’t care about your name, and I know what you are. You’re lucky you weren’t dead before you hit the ground. You should be more careful of who you sneak up on. Now get out of here.” Julian gave up on his sodden clothes and bent down to fill the second skin. He didn’t look up. “You’re still here. Go away.”

She repeated him mockingly. “You’re still here. Go away!” She laughed again, a laugh that Julian found most singularly annoying. “But I was curious! What are you doing here? These are my woods.”

He stood, replacing his glove, taking both skins, and beginning to walk back towards the camp. “The woods do not belong to you. Now leave me. I have more important ways to spend my time than talking to you.”

“Oh really?” she said, looking quite surprised and innocent. “But if you have so many more important things to do, why did you sit up all night, just staring into space?”

Julian stopped, turning to stare at her. How could she . . . ? How could he not have sensed her? She’d been watching him? She didn’t seem suspicious; only genuine curiosity showed as he searched her face. “You couldn’t know that. I would have sensed you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I sensed you by the river.”

“Only because I allowed you to. The dumbest beast in the forest would have sensed me at the river.”

Julian grew angrier. Was she trying to provoke him? Had she no idea how dangerous he was? “I am no dumb beast.”

“Of course not.”

“If you do not go, you half-breed, I will kill you. Don’t doubt it, for I will not warn you again.”

“Thaladria.”

“What?

“My name is Thaladria, not half-breed. Why did you stay up all night?”

“I was . . . watching the camp.”

“You’re a poor guard.”

“You’re a pathetic mutt.”

“You do not look tired for not having slept.”

“And you do not shut up!” Julian increased his speed, and the Tehporp made no move to follow. Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief.

He should have realized that even his inhuman abilities were no match for a creature who made its home in the forest. Thaladria appeared before him again, from behind a tree, and he nearly dropped the skins he was carrying.

“Leave, you foolish creature!”

“Thaladria!”

“I don’t care what your name is!”

“If you say it, I will go.”

Julian trembled with the urge to detach her head from her body. But he was too close to camp, and if he made a bloody mess of his clothes, there would be questions to answer. Not to mention that he had heard of the Tehporp before, and they most often traveled in packs. He didn’t want to deal with a whole family of the little brutes. He breathed a slow, calming breath. “Leave, Thu-lay-dree-a.” He said it slowly, pronouncing each syllable with great care and grinding his teeth, as if it were physically painful to do so. He glared at her, wishing with all his might that looks could kill, but she didn’t look him in the eyes. She was studying his lips as he said her name, as if making sure it was really him saying it, and not someone else. A playful grin broke out across her freckled cheeks.

“All right!” she cried gleefully. Almost faster than he could register, she leapt into the trees above him and disappeared. He looked all around, but he could not see her anywhere. Satisfied, he sighed in relief.

Julian prided himself on self-control, but there were certain things that he simply could not tolerate. One of them, apparently, was the mocking of a cute, wide-eyed half-breed that escaped without a proper punishment. Proper, in this instance, referring to the fuzzy beast being sliced in half. But as he strode, purposeful and tense, into the clearing where their camp lay, his train of thought was completely wiped away.

Xander was smiling in amusement, and Lily was gasping in delight as Thaladria performed flips and cartwheels in the grass for them. She bowed, and Lily clapped her hands with genuine enthusiasm.

“Oh, that was amazing! Wasn’t that amazing, Xander?”

“It certainly was.” Lily stepped forwards. Noticing Julian, she beckoned to him. “Hello, Julian! Did you see that? Oh, what happened to you? You’re all wet!”

"Dawn of Affliction" Teaser

2009-03-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

Things are continuing at a steady pace on the editing front, but today was a day for average things- like grocery shopping and hunting down lost toys and washing the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink. So I didn't edit a chapter of SoS for you. However, that means I have something else to post! A short excerpt from DoA for you to enjoy as you await further progress on book one. I hope you like it! There'll be more SoS coming tomorrow.

He hadn’t meant to kill it. Remorse overwhelmed him as he knelt down to pick up the lifeless form that lay before his feet. The nevet had attacked him, flinging its small, furry mass at him from a tree branch when he wandered past its nest. It had only been protecting its young, but his reaction had been one of instinct. Hearing its warning cry, he had spun to his left, pulling a dagger from the sheath on his belt and thrusting towards the noise. He hadn’t had time to analyze the situation, to register that there had been no real danger.

The creature’s blood matted its soft, white fur, clumps sticking to his hands as he turned it over, hoping somehow for some sign of life. There was none. Its large pointed ears were limp, the strong tail used for balance swaying gently in the breeze beneath it. Nevets were docile creatures for the most part. Their attacks were only in defense, and generally a bluff at that. Now the small cries of its young filled the forest, and he looked up from the body in hopes of finding the nest.

Elt’s heart rose higher into his throat as he approached the sound, finding half a dozen tiny nevets, newly hatched and still blind and helplessly dependent on their mother for protection. “Now what am I going to do with all of you, eh?” he said softly, partially to sooth the wailing babies and partially to block them out. Slowly, purposefully, he pulled a pouch from his belt. He began emptying the supplies from it. A half a loaf of bread, a jar of preserves, a chunk of cold beef from last night’s supper. He turned it over, emptying the crumbs from the bottom, then gathered up some grass to make a soft cushion for the little creatures. One by one, he placed them into the pouch, then he closed it up, leaving a small opening so that they could breathe, and secured it back at his waist. He used the broad side of his dagger to dig a shallow hole in the ground, and he buried the mother there, placing her nest upon the tiny grave. “I’m so sorry.” He said aloud. “I promise I’ll take care of your children for you.” He stood, brushing the dirt from his hands, and turned to begin the long trek home.

It was an easy walk. He’d planned it that way on purpose, hoping that when he returned, he’d be carrying game for his family. But instead of bringing home dinner, he was bringing home six more mouths to feed. Mother’s going to be disappointed, he thought despairingly. Was there anything he could think about that wouldn’t make him feel guilty?

Distracted by his thoughts, Elt walked straight into a Gangian tree, the sharp pickers scraped at his face and neck, and he pulled back, cursing and pulling a tiny thorn from his lower lip. The coppery taste of blood trickled into his mouth, and he wiped at his face angrily with the back of his hand, ducking this time to avoid the branch. But his startled movement had woken the tiny creatures at his waist, and they once again began to wail for their mother. With a resigned sigh, he stopped on the side of the path and slid down the side of a mossy rock, pulling the pouch onto his lap. He looked around, searching for something to feed the squalling infants. A flat stone caught his eye, and he pushed it over with the toe of his boot, revealing a roiling mass of tiny insects that scurried to and fro, trying to get out of the sudden light. He swept a few into his hand before they could escape, and stuffed his whole fist into the pouch. He peered inside as the insects scrambled to find a place to hide. The tiny nevets seemed to sense them, though, and their wails soon diminished as they found the bugs and shoved them eagerly into their mouths. Elt smiled, forgetting for a moment the reason why he was now getting the chance to enjoy these small bundles of fluff.

Then he was startled. When he’d put his hand in the bag, most of the babies had edged away from the foreign smell of him. But just then, as he sat staring while they ate, one of the critters tumbled onto his hand, grasping one of the insects in both paws, holding its struggling body above his head in seeming triumph before shoveling it into his mouth. Elt laughed, and the nevet’s unseeing eyes turned in his direction, its long ears, far disproportionate to its tiny head, swiveling toward the sound. Slowly, with great caution, it began to crawl from his palm to his wrist, and from there to his elbow. It sniffed at the end of his sleeve, testing it with miniature teeth. Then, uninvited, it scurried up into his shirt and came to rest upon his shoulder, where it proceeded to curl into a ball and sleep.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-03-25T06:21:00.000-07:00

The room was just slightly larger than one of the stalls where their horses were to be bedded down, and a thick layer of dust covered the bed, the floor, and the small table. It was obvious to Lily that no one had stayed here for quite some time. She wondered why the barkeep had been so unwilling to let them stay. She shrugged it off and went about lighting the lamp, absently sweeping the dust from the table onto the floor. When she sat on the bed, a cloud of dirt rose into the air, only to settle slowly down around her once again.

Xander eyed the boy warily as they both sat at the table, facing each other. Not once did the boy look at either of them, but he instead spoke to the floor, as before.

“My name,” he said at length, “is Julian. I am a wanderer. Where I came from is not important. But I am headed south. I have not stayed in one place for many years. I seek adventure, but no matter what challenges I find, they never seem enough to thrill me. I have no friends, only the wolves for companions, and the forest as my home. To see others like myself, without a home to return to, aroused my curiosity. Forgive my intrusion, but I beg you do not try to pay me back. It is a gift in exchange for your story.”

Julian was pleased with his pathetic sob story. He was nothing if not an actor. It seemed to satisfy Lily, who was about to speak, but Xander was quicker.

“That’s quite a purse for a nomad.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the boy’s eyes flash, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Pretty full of himself, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, does he? He had no more time to ponder before Lily chastised him for his brazenness, giving Julian no time to reply.

“Xander, please! That is no way to treat the man who has saved you from sleeping in the rain beside the horses this night!” She turned to the stranger, and her face softened. “Please, sir, forgive my friend. We have both lost a great deal, and he is still hurting from the loss of his family, as am I.”

Julian nodded. “It’s quite all right, perfectly understandable. Perhaps I should go . . .” He rose as if to leave, but Lily motioned for him to sit.

“No, no, it’s fine, really! You see, we too are on an adventure, though not of our choosing, and it gives us no thrill. We were in the woods when the dragon attacked my village, but we arrived back in time to see the end of the destruction. The dragon took my brother, alive, and flew off with him towards the south.”

So that’s where you were hiding. No matter. This is a better plan anyway. He glanced up for just a moment at the quivering in her voice, then quickly looked back at the floor. She had not seen him do so, but he had seen the sadness in her eyes, which had clouded over with tears.

“We’re off to find him, Xander and I. We just don’t know where to look. We were hoping to find help in the village but . . .” She let her voice trail off. All three of them knew what she was thinking. Julian made a scornful noise and finished her thought for her.

“There’s no help for you here. These men are no more than ghosts of who they might have been, so monotonous and dull are their lives. They’re as likely to spit on you as to talk to you, so jealous have they become of anyone whose manner speaks of a life with meaning.”

He continued, his words dripping with disgust. “No, these men are not what you seek.” Though his purpose there was a lie, his words rang true. He had seen the filth and wretchedness of the villagers here, and it simply added to the hatred of mankind that lay heavy on his heart. But he had a role to play, and so he did his best to soften his tone. “But perhaps . . . should you both be willing, I could accompany you. I am familiar at least with these woods, and I know a great deal about the south. I could tell you what I know about the dragon. Maybe it would be of some aid to your just cause.” He laughed inwardly. No amount of knowledge could save these two fools.

“You know of the dragon?” cried Lily and Xander simultaneously. The statement made Xander briefly forget his dislike for the boy, but he was ashamed at his outburst and withdrew again, sulking. Julian continued as if he were speaking only to Lily, though he still refused to look her in the eye. His humble act was already getting on Xander’s nerves, but Lily was eating it up.

“A bit, yes.”

“Well, then,” said Lily after a short time, “though not because of this information, but simply because of your generous offer, we would welcome your help.”

Xander shot her an unbelieving look. Had she really fallen for this guy’s fake charm? His “oh-pity-me-I’m-a-lone-traveler-with-nowhere-to-turn” act? Sure, he reasoned with himself, we need help, but certainly there’s someone better than him. Anyone.

Julian didn’t wait for Xander’s rebuttal but rose with a flourish. “I shall take my leave of you and let you get some rest. We will have a lot of traveling and plenty of time for stories later.” He nodded politely to Lily from the doorway. “Until tomorrow, then.” Before they even had time to inquire as to where they would find him in the morning, he was gone.

Xander and Lily were both too tired to talk it over, and Xander let his anger churn in his stomach. He loved her, but her problem was that because their lives had been so sheltered up until then, she saw good in everyone, even when it might not be there. He wrestled with himself, trying to understand his feelings. Could this Julian character really want to help them, for no reason other than to further his adventures? Why? It just seemed too convenient. Where had he come from? What kind of crazy idiot traveled alone through these woods without cause?

Outside in the dark, Julian was also struggling. The boy was a surprise, certainly, but how could he have expected the girl to travel alone? Valiance in people of their upbringing most likely extended only as far as their circle of comfort. He allowed himself a wry smile. He knew that Xander didn’t like him, but that didn’t bother him. Lily was the only one who needed to follow him, and if Xander didn’t agree . . . there were a number of unfortunate events that could take place in the forest. For now, though, he would suffer the lovesick young man in order to gain the girl’s trust.

Julian did not require sleep. He walked towards the trees, where the inky blackness of the woods split his face in two, like a mask. One side lit from the faint moon, the other bathed in the shadows. For a single moment in time, he was two people: half a human boy and half a slave of darkness. Then he stepped completely into the forest, and the moment was gone. He melted into the shadows, becoming one himself.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-03-24T09:52:00.001-07:00

Please be sure to note that although I love sharing these excerpts with you, reading them without knowing the entire story will undoubtedly lead to spoiled plots and not-so-surprising surprises when you get around to reading the whole book! Keep it in mind!

When night fell, the scattered villagers began appearing around the edges of the village, mourning the loss of life and home. Those with enough strength worked through the night, digging shallow graves for the victims of the dragon who had not been devoured by the flames. Xander watched as Lily worked through her tears, pouring her energy into the ground with each motion, digging as if she might find an answer to her grief somewhere beneath the scorched earth. But there were no answers to be found, and when the final shovelful was placed upon the final resting place of the lost villagers, last respects were paid, and the survivors turned to go, casting fleeting glances behind them at their ruined homes. It was as if they were desperately trying to recall them as they had once been, to burn a memory of happier times, to console them until at last the rubble faded from view, and the glances stopped.
Next to nothing had survived the holocaust that had destroyed the village of Sraet, and so that morning, with the last five horses carrying the worst of the wounded and the rest walking slowly and painfully behind them, Xander and Lily took a last look at the ruin before leading the way towards Mraw Ekul.

In the past, the dragon had never desecrated their village completely. It had always seemed that it had come more with the purpose of instilling fear rather than utterly destroying it. This time, however, had been different. There was no chance of rebuilding; there was nothing left to rebuild with. The crops had all been burned, and even a handful of people would not survive long with nothing to eat. Deep down, the fear of the dragon’s return had always haunted the two children, but in their eighteen years, it had slowly slipped deeper into the recesses of their minds, clinging as a nightmare clings to the memory. They’d thought that perhaps their parents’ generation had seen the last of the dragon.

They’d thought wrong.

The road was badly maintained, as trade between the villages was scarce—they had long ago become largely self sufficient—but by following the meandering curves of the Ssendam River, they were able to make their way slowly towards the nearest village.

Xander’s hands constantly forced their way to the forefront of his mind as he tried desperately to make himself useful. There were people barely clinging to life, strapped to the back of the horses, and lost somewhere in their own pain-induced stupor. Yet here he was, completely healthy and fit, save his hands, and he found himself unable to do anything. Something as simple as feeding himself was embarrassing and slow—leading a horse or clearing underbrush nearly impossible.

Lily hardly spoke. She led the way beside Nola, forcing branches out of the way and always on guard for danger, a quiet determination etched in every step she took. She barely slept during the journey, and Xander knew that the energy she was feeding off was fueled by anger and grief. When it wore off, she would have to find some other way to keep herself going. Xander had no doubt that she would. The two women seemed to have become the unelected leaders of their small band, leading the way and helping the others along. Lily used Duncan’s sword to forge a path through the overgrown trail, and it hung always by her side when not in use. A constant reminder of her reason to be. Those who were able-bodied would hunt, Lily among them, and when it was time to eat each night, she and Nola would walk among the last of their people and help where they were needed. When they did, Xander would sit back a little from the fire, awkwardly shoveling his food into his mouth, his fear that Lily would see him and pity him, despite what the others had been through. In a few days, all of them had grown a little older, a little wiser, but her most of all. She had shouldered a great deal of responsibility, and Xander was determined not to add to it if he could help it.

On the third day, the silent spirits of death claimed another life. The body was untied from where he had lain precariously across one of the horses, and because they had no tools to dig a grave, they built a hasty funeral pyre in a clearing by the river.

Xander watched the flames slowly devour the man and shuddered, images of Sraet, burning, flashing angrily before him. It brought the reality of what had happened into stark relief, and Xander felt as if at last he had been slapped in the face by the truth of his mortality. Was this truly all that awaited them? In the end, were they nothing more than ash and dust, subject to the whim of the winds that would carry them until the end of time? He tore his gaze from the fire and saw by the looks on their faces that the others were experiencing the same feelings that he was. He nearly jumped as a smooth, warm hand grasped his wrist above the bandaging. He looked down and saw that Lily was rigid with terror, clearly remembering in gruesome detail their encounter with the dragon. In all their combined wisdom, no one had thought through the consequences of paying their last respects to the man in this way. One by one, they turned their backs to the pyre and made their way back to the horses.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-03-23T05:19:00.001-07:00

Please note that although all of chapter one was included on the blog, from this point on you'll only be getting tasty tidbits. As I finish editing a chapter, I will add a favorite or exciting excerpt to whet your appetite here. However, if you wish to read the chapter in its entirety, you will have to procure a book for yourself! You are welcome to wait until a final version is published, as it will be much better than the original, or you can purchase a copy of the original self-published work if you just can't hold your excitement in any longer!

She traveled quickly, unaware of Xander, who could keep up with her easily but was hindered by his efforts to stay quiet; he could not move with both speed and grace at once, as Lily could. Her silver mane flashed like a stray moonbeam behind her, her brother’s hunting leggings and tunic flowing gracefully around her like the most delicate of gowns. Lily slowed and so did Xander, allowing himself to smile as he did so. She must be the only girl in the world who could look so beautiful in the tunic and slacks of an archer. He nearly laughed but caught himself. Lily shrugged her bow off her shoulder and strung it, then drew an arrow from her quiver. Xander tried to listen for the sound of hooves, but he could hear nothing over the heavy pounding of his heart. Whether it was from the running or from the soft, indescribable beauty of the girl before him, he was not sure.

Lily paused, hesitating, a puzzled look furrowing the delicately arched brows above her piercing violet eyes. Xander reached down with one hand and crept closer to her, ready to take up his swords and fight if anything threatened her. It was probably not a good idea to sneak up on someone who looked as taut as the bow she was holding strung and drawn before her, but Xander was careful, quiet, and ready to call out if necessary. He managed to maneuver just behind Lily to see what had startled her. As he looked, she let down her bow and walked into a small clearing.

Now, it is not at all uncommon to find a clearing where a group of deer or boars or other such creatures have bedded down for the night, crushing the grass and undergrowth of a fairly large area. What had struck Lily about this particular clearing was that there was no crushed undergrowth; there was simply nothing at all. A perfectly circular area covered with nothing but short grass stood open before her, and in the middle of it, something hovered in the air: a small, brilliant fiery spot. What happened next is difficult to explain, for how does one go about explaining a tear in space? For that is exactly what it seemed to be—a tear in space, filled with light.

It did not appear to either child that the light was an object floating in the air. Before their eyes, the tiny spot grew, but instead of the light growing bigger, they had the distinct impression that a hole was growing bigger, a hole in midair from which the light emanated. A strange crackling sound seemed to come from all around them as the space grew—and with it the light. It seemed as if an invisible someone was drawing back the air as easily as he would the curtains of a window, and the light of his lamp was shining through into the black of night. Yet this light did not simply shine; it spilled like liquid out of the crack, flowing out and around her to fill the clearing. And there was something pure about it, something powerful and cleansing. She took another step forwards, the light flowing around and through her, and as she did, a booming crackle came as the tear grew to half the size of a man, and the place before her exploded with the brilliant amber light.

Lily stumbled back several steps and knocked into Xander, who had thrown his hands up in front of his eyes and fought through the undergrowth to come to her aid, blind though he was from the strange light. Lily cried out, at first uncertain what she had hit and then, deciding it was indeed a human form, wondering if it was friend or foe. Sheltering her eyes since she now faced away from the clearing, she was able to make out Xander’s form, and she threw her arms around him in relief.

His heart leapt from his chest to his throat, nearly choking him. So foreign and strong were his emotions at the feel of her fragile warmth against him that the strange light could nearly have been forgotten—except for the fact that it was so very, very bright.

Lily let go of him and turned to face the source of the light once again, her bow forgotten on the ground somewhere in front of her. As their eyes began to grow accustomed to the beautiful but frightening experience, a strange shape seemed to appear, silhouetted in the middle of the clearing. It was quite nearly indescribable. It seemed to Xander that it was made of spheres. No . . . not spheres. Wheels. Wheels within wheels, whirling softly, pale green and somehow generating the brilliant amber light that surrounded them.

Hesitantly at first, then with more confidence, Lily began to walk into the light, her hand outstretched as if to touch the strange creature hovering silently at the center of the clearing.

Xander, realizing what she was doing, made no move to stop her, sensing somehow that the whirling thing before them, whatever it was, meant them no harm. At the edge of his mind, Xander realized that besides the obvious, there was something different about this light. As Lily stepped completely into it, he realized what it was. The light did not silhouette her, but rather swallowed her so it appeared to be shining right through her. It was both solid and liquid, not straying beyond the boundaries of the grove but crashing against the invisible barrier like waves upon the shore. She almost became one with the light, a luminous, fiery figure. The image burned itself into Xander’s eyes. How perfect she was just then, enveloped in that light, seeming to shine herself now. But his reverie was broken just as Lily was about to touch the strange being. A huge voice broke through the silence. It came from the strange creature, and it spoke only one strange word.

“Amahsem!”

Meet the Illustrator

2009-03-21T17:00:00.001-07:00

An important member of our team has sat patiently in the wings, waiting while I took a hiatus from writing to welcome the newest, littlest member of my family. That teammate is Erin Gorham, the awesome artist who is illustrating The Secrets of Serised series. Her art is a wonderful reflection, almost always matching exactly what I had in mind when I wrote any given scene, and it is also an inspiration. Bouncing ideas back and forth between us has given me insight into my own work, allowing me to expand and better my writing as we work together to bring you a fully engrossing experience. When we started the blog back up, Erin was ready and willing to get back to work. So enjoy the illustrations that we have on the site now, and look for new pictures as we march ever onwards towards our goal of publication!

"Dawn of Affliction" teaser

2009-03-21T06:14:00.000-07:00

Please enjoy this excerpt from "Dawn of Affliction," the second book in The Secrets of Serised trilogy. It is in the works right now, and takes place one thousand years prior to the first novel. That's right, it's a prequel, George Lucas-style. :-)

Elt’s heart pounded in his chest. This would have come as no surprise, except that he half expected it to have stopped dead by now. Around him, the moans and screams of the wounded and dying filled the air like a near-tangible mist of despair. He knew that the lucky ones were already dead. At least death offered some respite from the horrid reality that now faced him and his compatriots.

“Form ranks!” came the hoarse cry of the senior officer of Elt’s detachment. Elt helped a fallen soldier into the slowly forming lines, half watching the officer pace back and forth before them. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, but now he was commanding the hundred or so men and boys that remained from their original battalion of three hundred. He was thrust into command only hours before when their commanding officer had been slain in an enemy ambush. He didn’t look ready to be in charge.

Elt wondered if anyone ever really was.

“Kneel before Supreme Commander Sefil!” came the young man’s nervous cry once more. Those who were standing knelt, and those too injured to stand scrambled into as close to a kneeling position as they could manage. Elt knew that protocol required him to look straight ahead, but he dropped to the ground quickly and dug his clammy palms into the blood-drenched soil, head down and chest heaving. Dare he look into the eyes of the Supreme Commander? He felt as if guilt were etched on every inch of his battle-scarred face. He heard the unsteady rhythm of horse hooves, picking their way slowly along the ranks over bodies and ruts in the earth. With every ounce of willpower he had left, he forced himself to look up into the eyes of the man who towered over every one of the weary soldiers kneeling before him. Sefil’s eyes gleamed beneath the harsh curves of his ornamental gold helmet. Hair as black as his soul spilt out from beneath it, not a single strand out of place. His armor gleamed, immaculate. He never fought, and yet he commanded an entire army through fear and manipulation. Elt felt bile rising in his throat, and swallowed hard, willing Sefil to move on, to continue on his way down the line. At last, Sefil broke his gaze and kicked the horse, who neighed in protest but continued along its grisly path.

Once he was out of view, Elt felt the brush of movement on his left. His eldest brother, Ansel, had snuck slowly and quietly to his side. Ansel’s eyes seemed to press on Elt the importance of silence. Be still, they seemed to cry, say nothing. Do nothing. “Promise me.” Ansel whispered, his voice barely registering above the cacophony of death rattles and screams that surrounded them.

Elt nodded, but he could not convince his body that everything would be ok. It continued to betray him until at last he was sure that the whole company must know what he had done.
“Someone among you told the enemy where to find us.” Sefil said. His voice was melodic, hardly what you’d expect from a man who commanded that anyone who stood in their way be destroyed. “Someone among these ranks, from among your brethren, has betrayed us all.” He spoke slowly, purposefully. A few of his highest aids had been following him on foot, and they began to pull people indiscriminately from their lines, dragging them forward and forcing them up, regardless of their physical conditions.

“Look at what deception brings you. Failure, defeat, and destruction. Is this what we want? Dissention in the ranks? No! We want a united front. We are fighting for a better tomorrow for all the people of this land. And deceit cannot – will not – be tolerated."

Eleven men were now standing in front of the lines, eleven men who Elt knew had nothing to do with the plan that had led to today’s massacre. His heart raced faster as suddenly two strong hands were grabbing him, heaving him forward by the helmet that was strapped tight beneath his chin. He fell face first into the muddy ground and struggled back to his knees, only to be forced to his feet and led to the group that had been singled out.

Sefil’s voice seemed almost melancholy as he continued, completely ignoring those who had been brought forward. “Look upon the faces before you. These are your compatriots, your allies. But are they also, beneath that, traitors? I do not know. But I do know that in order to lead you to peace everlasting, sacrifices must be made.” He paused, scanning the ranks slowly, as if looking for some tell-tale sign of treachery. “If the traitor does not turn himself in, then I will be forced to kill each man you see standing before you. Let it be an example. Let it show you all that treason will not be tolerated. Let it prove to you my resolve, and how any doubt will be handled swiftly and without mercy. This is war, my children. And there are no second chances in war.”

Sefil waited then. Elt felt the man beside him trembling in fear. He wondered if he had the courage to save these people, to do the right thing. He’d been stupid. This was his fault, and now he had to pay the price. He gathered his strength, but as he prepared to speak, his eyes met Ansel’s. Be silent! They warned him urgently. Let someone else take the fall! You weren’t alone! An eternity passed between them, and Elt looked away. He felt Ansel’s gaze boring into the depths of his soul. “I will not wait forever. You have five seconds to reveal yourself, traitor, or I will cut them all down without a second thought. One.”

Elt’s heart jumped into his throat, and his fists clenched against his sides.

“Two.”

Do it! He willed himself. Now!

“Three.”

Ansel’s gaze was still on him. He didn’t look back at his brother, but he could feel his eyes still. A tear running down his face, he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He was so afraid.

“Four.” Elt opened his mouth to confess. But the words that came next were not his own.

“It was I!” came Ansel’s loud cry from the front line. “It was I who betrayed you, Sefil, and I would do it again, knowing the consequences! You are corrupt, you are evil, and I will not follow you. Long live Hewhay! Long live Ne De!” He kept speaking even as four of Sefil’s aids surrounded him, dragging him forward. Sefil approached, still on horseback, and looked down into Ansel’s defiant stare.

Ansel spit before Sefil’s horse.

No! Elt’s heart cried out with everything that was in him. Please, no!

“I will never serve you, you coward!” cried Ansel. “You will never win this war!”

Sefil spent a long moment looking down at him. Then he spoke softly, but each of the twelve who had been dragged from the ranks could hear him as clear as day.

“Kill him.” He said simply. Then, “Kill them all.” One of his aids drew a sword, and with a flash of steel glinting in the midday sun, Ansel crumbled like a rag doll to the ground. “And let that be a lesson to the rest of you!” cried Sefil loudly. The rest of his foot soldiers drew their swords, turning to face the twelve helpless prisoners.

Elt closed his eyes. Now, finally, he would taste death. He was afraid, but somehow at peace. Soon he would be with his brother.

The swordsmen advanced.

The Secrets of Serised

2009-03-20T12:18:00.000-07:00

The servant who now stood just inside Julian’s doorway must have been twice his age, yet still he cowered in the shadow of the younger man. Julian ignored him, languishing in his power, as the messenger desperately tried to make his presence known without speaking. Around him, underlings seemed to lose their tongues, for fear of saying something that could bring down his wrath.

Idly, he fingered the soft velvet arm of his chair, staring into the distance at something no one else could see. While an outsider might say that he was merely a distracted young man lost in another world, those who attended to him knew the keenness of his senses. He was currently aware of every breath, every fidget of the man in the doorway. The lingering scent of smoke on the servant told Julian that he had come from the fires of the kitchen to fetch the young master. Julian could even hear the fluttering of the poor man’s heart, like a frightened bird beating its wings aimlessly against a cage.

Shivers of pain danced up and down his spine, coiling around his heart and squeezing. He didn’t even blink. His long, delicate fingers moved gracefully along the subtle patterns of the fabric, seeing them in a way the eye never could. At last he grew weary of his game, bored of the pathetic figure behind him. Nothing ever held Julian’s interest for long. His desires were an unquenchable thirst. He longed to satisfy them, and yet there they were, waiting to greet him at every turn. Playing with the simple minds of servants far from satiated him.

“What?” he said coldly, not even looking up. He heard the startled man jump slightly, tripping over his own feet and backing into the wall. He then brushed himself off quickly, trying to regain his composure.

“Master Julian, sir, our lord desires your presence at the western tower, sir.” The rough burlap folds of his clothes scraped harshly against each other as he bowed low, backing hastily through the doorway. His sigh of relief was evident as he straightened and scrambled back towards the safety of the kitchen.

“I know,” said Julian softly, though there was no one to hear. He stood, taking his black cloak from where it hung upon his bedpost and wrapping it around his body as he made his way towards the tower.

Julian’s stride never lagged as he silently mounted the cool stone steps of the castle stairwell, despite their number. His movements were graceful, but every muscle in his body quivered almost imperceptibly, like a tethered panther dying to be unleashed, longing to run. Still, his face remained expressionless as he moved ever upwards, towards his master. A searing pain that would have paralyzed a normal man shot through his chest, but it did not cause him to pause, to cry out, or even to flinch. It only made him hasten his step. His master was calling.

Julian was as strikingly handsome as his heart was cold. Long jet-black hair framed a face like polished marble, flawless and pale from having seen far too little sun in his nineteen years. His eyes were like liquid gold—beautiful yet frigid at the same time. Despite his youth, those eyes were ageless, wise. When he grew bored, he found pleasure in fixing them upon the servants of the palace. His gaze was unnerving, and no man, save his master, was able to hold it for long.

Though he was accustomed to the dark and did not fear it, he could see no better than any other without the aid of a lamp. Yet he did not need to feel his way along the wall, relying instead on memory. Many, many nights he had traveled this same path, and despite his lack of a lantern, he somehow reached the top without so much as a misstep along the way. Once there, he reached out to grip the handle of the solid oak door, but his hand passed right through where it ought to be. The door was open.

The night was masked in absolute darkness; not a single star shone in the sky, not a single candle was lit in the houses that he knew dotted the landscape below. Not even the outline of the moon could be seen through the velvet blackness of the night. Julian knew of only one man, with a soul as black as this night, who had the power to silence the very stars in the sky.

Though Julian had made no sound in his approach, his master sensed his presence. “Come,” droned a cruel voice out of the nothingness, “stand by me.”

Julian did not hesitate. He followed the sound of the voice until he stood beside his master, knowing well the punishment for disobedience. “Look at my kingdom, boy. My kingdom. Serised.” There was a pause, and the unseen man inhaled deeply. Coming from anyone else, it would have been a sigh of satisfaction. From Julian’s master, it sounded much more like the wheezing death rattle of a sick horse. “Is it not glorious?”

Julian did not answer. His master knew that he could see nothing, and it surely pleased him. Nothing pleased him more than power, and controlling the darkness was merely one of the forms his power took.

The man whom Julian called master was, in fact, not much of a man at all—more like the husk of one, the soul carved out of him like the pith from a pipe stem, and the hollow shell filled with countless poisons, each more wicked and vile than the last. Over his lifetime, these evils had eaten away at what was left of him, growing more powerful with the passage of time. He was called Lord Sefil, but he enjoyed many other titles: the King of Sorrow, the Prince of Pain, and the Emperor of Darkness. And his titles did not lie, for if he was a man at all, then he was truly the most horrid, wicked one ever to live.

It was just as well that Julian could not see him, for to look upon him was in itself a terrifying experience. Whereas Julian had youth and cold beauty, it seemed as if Lord Sefil had been hacked into human form from a slab of meat, which had then been left, forgotten, to decay slowly in the sun. His mouth was a black gash across his sallow face; from it oozed forth words that dripped and sizzled like acid into the ground around him. His eyes were sunken like those of a sickly, blind beggar, yellow and flat, yet his gaze could wither flowers in the prime of life. The flesh of his hands might as well have rotted and fallen away, for his fingers seemed to be merely bones attached by some mysterious force to his wrists.

The elaborate, gaudy crown he wore was covered with precious stones that made it seem much too heavy to be practical. He wore the rich purple velvet robes of a king, as well as enough rings and assorted other jewels worth enough to feed a small village for a lifetime. But despite the richness of his adornments, he simply could do nothing to hide underneath them the utter abomination of what seemed to be the talking remains of an ancient corpse. To look at him was to never again sleep without the nightmares of his horrid form dancing wildly in your head.

With a flourish of his skeletal hand, a faint red light appeared over the land, filtering the starlight from a small patch of sky through a hazy crimson veil. Julian could see for miles and miles in that eerie glow. It turned the moat into a sea of blood, and beyond that he could see mills, forges, temples, houses, and stables as far as his vision allowed. Every direction yielded similar results. The lands that Lord Sefil controlled were expansive and prosperous. The fields were full of crops bursting for the harvest, the constant fires of the forges belching smoke into the night sky, ready to shape blade or shield at the whim of the smith. Animals in the Kingdom of Serised had grown used to the constant feeling that something was amiss around them, and they shuffled quietly in their stables, sleeping and eating away their monotonous indentured lives.

The people lived under false pretenses as well. Though few had met their king on multiple occasions, all had taken his mark of loyalty, either upon entering the borders of Serised or, had they been born there, upon their sixteenth birthday. Thus, each of them had seen him at least once, which was enough to haunt the dreams of anyone for all his years to come. They cloaked their fear of the man and his ways with the luxuries afforded to them for their loyalty—in much the same way the well-off would cover their odor with strong-scented oils—indulging in the pleasures of the flesh, which were as bountiful in Serised as the sands upon the shore. Fortune-tellers, apothecaries, and a slew of taverns were all within easy reach of any who desired of their services.

“Look, boy, at all I have created, out of nothing! I have taken these pathetic lives and given them meaning! These people owe me everything; they worship me and give me their children so that they may have peace. But what is it?” He spat and waved his arm again, and the red light was gone as quickly as it had come. “It is nothing! I want more, boy! And I shall have it. I want it all!"

Julian felt a light misting of spittle as the older man’s vehement greed spewed from his lipless mouth. He resisted the urge to wipe his face on the sleeve of his robe. Such an action would only be met with misery.

“The Land of Three Kingdoms, boy. And I, the most powerful ruler of all time, control only one. It’s disgraceful. I won’t allow it to go on any longer. Soon it will all be mine.”

Through all of this talk, Julian remained silent, having heard it many times before. When he perceived that Lord Sefil was done, he knelt. His pride kept him from speaking even then, from begging his master, “Pray tell me, my lord, what are your wishes?” There was no need. He knew what his master craved. He knew he was the one who would deliver it.

“Yes, very good, Julian.” At the sound of his name coming from that vile mouth, Julian’s eyes flashed, but still he held his tongue. “You know that silence is a virtue. Your reverence is well placed. I have summoned you because I have had a disturbing vision. There is a girl, Julian, who even now has powers she does not understand. She could help me to achieve my rule, solidify me as sovereign of all that is! Or she could destroy me. I want her, boy. She will take my mark of loyalty, and she shall serve me for all eternity.”

He held tightly to his staff, the channel of his awesome powers, and paced slowly back and forth, as if having a heated argument with an invisible companion. “Yes, that is how it shall be. It is done.” He stopped and stared at the young man who still knelt before him, waiting for his orders. He smiled, a viscous sneer of a smile, the few rotten teeth left in his skull perched precariously upon his jaw. His vile thoughts turned for a moment from the girl to the youth beside him. Oh, what he had turned the child into. He reveled in the barely leashed rage that quivered just beneath the surface. The unwavering loyalty that kept the boy from speaking, from asking for more information. An apprentice, yes, and yet so much more. A powerful tool in his conquest. “It’s you and me, boy. You and me against an unbelieving world. No respite for the weak, Julian. They will kneel before me or face a most unpleasant demise.” He paused to let the words sink in, and then his voice pierced the night again. “Now stand, my loyal servant! It is past midnight, and there is much work to be done! I must have her. You will see to it that I get her.”

Julian stood. Lord Sefil raised his staff and brought it solidly back to the ground with a resounding thud, and something began to happen. He laughed, cruelly, then wildly, and stared up into the starless sky, his face lit by his magical red light, which had appeared once more. “Do not fail me, boy, or you will pay dearly.” His next words came as no surprise to the young man who stood before him, scarcely breathing, eyes flashing angrily.

“Tonight, Julian, the dragon flies!”

And still Julian was silent.

Welcome, Weary Travellers.

2009-03-19T15:50:00.000-07:00

And thank you for resting those tired clicker fingers for a moment or two here at my blog. Some of you may have visited the old website only to find it dismantled. I found that, having no real experience with web design and no staff to help me update and upkeep, I was continuously lagging behind. Hence these new digs; now you can follow my progress as often as you'd like by clicking back or subscribing, and I will have a much less time consuming job on my end trying to keep you informed! Which, as you can probably imagine, leaves more time for me to get down to the business of writing.

The Secrets of Serised is my first novel. It's been self published and shared with family and friends, but after that I sort of set it aside for awhile. Recently I spent the money to have it professionally edited, and as I finish revising and adjusting each chapter, I plan to share the finished product with you here. If you like what you see and want to read more, you're welcome to purchase a copy- there is a link here on the blog. Or you can wait with us to see if we can get it published by a big name, which is the ultimate goal of my work. SoS is the first in a trilogy, and I've already started on book two, but for now I'd like to focus my efforts on creating a finished, polished product.

I would be thrilled to have you along for the ride to share all the triumphs and setbacks ahead, as well as to share your feedback and thoughts on my work. Please stick around, leave a comment, or become a follower. I'm happy to make your acquaintance! I will post more soon, about myself, the book, and anything else I feel you might be interested in reading. Thank you for stopping by!