The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Shanna M. Bosarge

  Book cover and layout: Marta Dec, http://martadec.eu

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  ISBN 978-1-7323575-1-8

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Without these individuals Sterling and Brom would still be collecting dust in the recesses of my mind.

  To my editor, Trisha, you have been wonderful. Without your guidance and experience I would still be writing “towards.”

  To Brian and Christopher, two of the best illustrators anyone could ask for. You brought my world to life with your extraordinary talent.

  To Marta, my dear, you are a beast and the cover you created is second to none.

  To Terry and Lamar, thank you for always asking me how my book was going. Your gentle nudging kept me on track.

  To Geniene, thank you for your super grammar skills. I still owe you lunch.

  To Mom and Dad, you are my rocks. Without your love, help, and guidance in life I would be a puddle of goo. I love you so much.

  To my wonderful daughter. Thank you for putting up with my what-do-you-think-about-this questions.

  To Max, thank you for buying my first one hundred books

  Dan’Yin, 14th Ignis 1000.

  To my beloved Khort. I write this to you knowing that by the time you read it I will have passed through the Veil and returned to Fin’Varrar.

  Do not be saddened my love. I have lived a long life and my time is coming to and end. For 264 years I have walked upon the hills and valleys of Fin’Varrar. I have seen the majesty of the Midori and felt the warmth of the Kai’Vari sun and her people. I have seen wars ravage the land and peace make it whole. I have seen close friends grow old before my eyes. For the long life I have lived, you are and will always be my one true love, my soul. I remember the day we first met. You were a young 24-year-old warrior with much to prove. I was mesmerized by the power that emanated from you and your overwhelming presence. I admit, I fell in love at first sight.

  I was determined at that moment that you would be mine and I would marry you, but you were so stubborn. Ignoring my advances and spouting off how you had given your life to Orla. But I was persistent and victorious. It still makes me smile when I think of our wedding day. Your family welcomed me with open arms despite my Devian eyes. I was so accustomed to the side glances and glares from others, but the Rin’Ovanas welcomed me. The cheresha blossoms were in bloom, it was raining pink petals with a sweet aroma. In all my life I have never been as happy as that day. Now seven years later, we are about to welcome our child.

  As the end of my gravidity draws near, I have felt the essence of Devi in this child. It is known among the Devians that a child will draw on the mother’s powers, but the mother will regain her abilities after the birth. However, the power that our child draws from me is far too great. My abilities are waning and will be gone by the time our child arrives. With our child’s birth, I will pass, but I do not want you to be sad. This should be a joyous time. Our child will need your love and your guidance in the future, as will Brom, for he will be a fine Veillen.

  It’s been four years since Brom and Moira lost their parents and are still reeling from their grief. I worry over Brom, he suffered greatly as the object of Norden’s rage. He is still very protective of his sister and will need time to overcome his trauma. With you as his teacher, he will grow to be a great Veillen with many victories. I smile as I recall the serious look on his face as he vowed to protect our little one. He will truly be a great man with your tutelage. Moira is such a sweet child, she will grow into a beautiful young woman. There will be no end to the suitors that will come calling for her hand. The Pan’Dale heir will be a great choice as a husband for Moira. He has great potential and their family is one that garners great respect. Hemi will help you with the children, he has great influence on Brom and will teach him patience and control.

  As of late, I grow tired easily and must retire to my bed, but I must impart my final words to you, my love. There is a great power that lingers on the edges of my vision. I feel it’s presence in my dreams, waiting for the day our child is born. I fear what this eidolon wants with our child, is it a Velkuva or some other dark specter? I cannot see him, but his presence is overwhelming. Guard our child, be vigilant, and train her well.

  My love, do not mourn my passing for we shall reunite in Empyrean.

  All my love,

  Sylvie

  Prologue

  Dan’Yin, 25th Ignis, 1000

  Hemi knew something was wrong. The smell of putrid flesh hit him square in the chest before he could reach the row of small houses that sat isolated from the rest of Sela’Char. These confinement rooms were reserved for the women of Kai’Vari who were with child and close to giving birth. Khort and Sylvie had come here just yesterday when Sylvie’s pain had become unbearable. They were both so happy, Khort beaming from ear to ear knowing he would welcome his first child into the world. They were expecting a son. The Sabolan midwife had sensed the presence of a Velkuva in the unborn child. Khort was excited about having a son, but his excitement was shadowed by the fact that his son would be a warrior like himself, a Veillen that would fight against the demons that plagued Kai’Vari.

  Hemi, being a slave, was forbidden in the birthing house so he had waited in his chambers at the main castle of Sela’Char. He’d received scathing glances from the castle guards, as a native Dueninian he was unwelcome in the Kai’Varian capital. Even more of a mark against him was the fact that Khort Rin’Ovana, Veillen High Guardsman and close friend to the King, treated Hemi more as a friend than as a slave.

  The overwhelming smell caused his nostrils to burn and his eyes to water. There was only one thing that could cause such a stench, a graekull. Khort had spent his life protecting Kai’Vari from the demons of Abaddon. Hemi had heard of the most recent battle near Sela’Char, but he hadn’t thought the graekull had made it this far east and into the city. It was true though, when the wailing warning sounds of the Veillen Manuk horns had reached Sela’Char, the Veillen warriors stationed at the capital had barely enough time to rally before the first demons attacked the outlying villages. Hemi supposed it was possible one or more graekull could have slipped through the Veillen lines.

  Knowing that protecting Khort and Sylvie was more important than the midwives’ rules, Hemi had rushed from the castle and made his way toward the tiny confinement rooms. As he neared, he saw the row of isolated houses still stood in defiance of the battle that had quickly moved in and still raged around them. Now running with his sword in his hand, Hemi’s boot heels thudded softly on the wood planks as he approached the birthing house. The smell overwhelmed him and he had to force the bile back down.

  Hemi’s heart stopped and then started racing when he noticed the splintered wood scattered across the walkway. He hurried his steps until he stood in front of what used to be the door to the house. What remained was a gaping hole. The door lay in broken pieces with deep claw marks marring the planks. The cottage was dark inside, the candles long extinguished by what must have been the tremendous force that knocked down the solid door.

  Hemi listened for a moment, then stepped over the broken pieces, nearly stumbling on the body of the midwife that lay in a heap, blood pooling under her lifeless body. His heart was in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. “No,” The word was an anguished whisper on his lips that were dry from the cool spring air
. “No, no,” he repeated, as if the denial would undo the scene that lay before him.

  His vision was drawn to the hideous, putrid graekull that stood frozen in death above Khort, whose sword had pierced the demon’s skull from forehead to crown. Despite having killed the graekull, Khort was pinned to the wall, beneath the beast. Moving closer, Hemi could see its claws had sliced through Khort’s flesh, rending him to his very heart. In the bed lay Sylvie, her lifeless eyes staring off into the distance, her hand outstretched toward some unknown treasure. His eyes followed hers, attempting to see what her outstretched hand was trying to grasp.

  A sudden whimper startled Hemi, causing him to jump. It was then he realized what Sylvie was so desperately trying to reach. Hemi hurried across the room and carefully removed the splintered planks of the door to find Sylvie’s newborn child lying asleep in the center of a charred circle. Smoke was still rising from the ring that was burnt into the floor.

  A girl! Hemi couldn’t help but smile down at the babe, despite the death of her parents that were only steps away. He wondered what Khort had felt when presented with a daughter instead of the son he was expecting.

  The babe whimpered again, her bottom lip turned under in a pout. Before she could start to cry Hemi swaddled her in a blanket and lifted her into his arms. Carefully he carried the babe to Sylvie and knelt beside the bed. He could feel the tears start to build behind his eyes. He took deep breaths but could not contain the sob that escaped.

  “Why? Why did you make me leave?” he asked through the tears. “I could have protected you both.” He could have protected them, he knew how dangerous the graekull were. Khort had trained him to fight the demons even though he was not as powerful as the Veillen warriors. “Damn it!” Hemi swore, wiping away the tears that dampened his cheeks.

  He took a deep breath and steeled himself, “Syl, your daughter, she is beautiful just as you always will be.” He caressed her cheek pushing the dark hair out of the way and gently closed her eyelids over her haunting silver eyes.

  “Hem-”

  Hemi jumped at his name and looked up to find Khort staring down at him from where the graekull had pinned him against the wall, his feet dangling. “Khort!” Hemi jumped up to help Khort, but the man slowly shook his head.

  “No,” Khort managed to breathe the words, “no time. You,” his words were just whispers past his lips as he struggled to form them, “mus- ta- her away.” He took a deep breath then spoke his last words, “Take Sterling awa- from here t- safe place. Hid- her. Tak- key to Fen- Lima.”

  “What key?” Hemi stood to search for a key.

  “Necklace,” Khort managed, before his body went limp as his life force finally surrendered. Hemi watched as a blue light slowly formed beneath Khort’s skin where the graekull’s claws cut deep into his flesh. The light grew, forming a small ball that slowly rose until it left Khort’s body and hovered above his head. The ball of light dispersed in the air in a blink. Hemi had seen this before. It was the Veillen’s essence passing through the Veil to Empyrean.

  “Take her where?” Hemi knew Khort would not answer as he searched for a necklace. He noticed a glint of gold around Sylvie’s neck and he brushed her hair out of the way. The chain hung around her neck and at the end was a cylindrical gray stone that seemed to hold an unearthly glow. Gently, he pulled the chain over her head and tucked it safely into his pocket.

  Khort wanted Hemi to take his daughter and hide her. From whom or from what was he supposed to hide her? Hemi would never get the answers he needed, but he trusted Khort with his life and would in turn give his life to Khort and now, Khort’s daughter. He glanced down at the babe who was staring up at him with a slight smile on her tiny lips. Her cheeks were rosy, her sparse hair a soft chestnut like her mothers, and her eyes… her eyes reflected his image in their pure silver depths. “Sterling,” Hemi said softly to the babe, “I’m your Uncle Hemi.”

  I

  Nightmare

  Sarno Forest – Northern Duenin

  Twenty-One Years Later

  Dan’Kell, 23rd Ignis, 1021

  Thunder vibrated the ground with ominous rumbles. Sterling narrowed her eyes against the wind blowing through the storm-ravaged land. The sky was a roiling cauldron, filled with dark and angry clouds turning and tumbling on top of themselves. From her vantage point, Sterling could see across the long valley. Waves of grey sheets of rain slowly marched through the countryside, seeming to eat away at the very earth. The heavy drops pelted the ground where the land sloped and dipped. The water was already beginning to rise in the small streams that slithered across the valley’s green skin.

  Another silver fork of light streaked down from the seething cauldron. Sterling watched helplessly from her patch of dry ground as the lightning struck the tree that had stood sentinel in the center of the valley. The ancient tree bark was peeled in an instant, leaving behind only a charred remnant of its once great self. The rocks that had protected and supported the tree for ages were now blackened and shattered bits of debris that no longer offered resistance to the storm’s anger.

  The rains were coming down from the snowcapped mountains that were framed on the not too distant horizon. The fierce storm was carrying the ice and snow from the mountain’s peak

  The steep walls of the valley rose to surround her. The oddly familiar isolation of this place was overwhelming. Sterling felt so alone and helpless in the lowlands, which seemed to be transforming into a desolate prison.

  Heading quickly toward her, the storm was now threatening to overtake her small patch of dry ground. The wind tore at her hair, fiercely driving the freezing rain as it irritatingly hit her face. A sliver of ice struck her cheek. Surprised, she put her hand up to the small bloody cut.

  Suddenly, Sterling felt the odd sensation that a presence was with her… watching her. She scanned the surrounding area but could see no one. An intense pricking arose on the back of her neck that felt like a thousand pins were being driven into her skin. She rubbed the spot but received no relief. “Who’s there?” she asked lightly, her words all but defeated by the storm’s fury as they were quickly carried away on the wind.

  Turning in a circle, she became aware of her current predicament. The storm had surrounded her. There was no avenue for escape; the paths, the roads, and even the small game trails leading from this prison were disappearing one by one beneath the rising waters. A sense of panic and genuine fear began to bleed deep into her being. Her skin prickled with it. Without warning the prickling intensified until she thought she would pass out from the pain. And from the ethereal void of her mind came a voice. Booming… commanding. The words seemed to vibrate through her, sending waves of nausea to the pit of her stomach, “Othail ghee Elementals!” And as quickly as the words were spoken the pain and nausea were gone.

  Sterling watched in helpless terror as the storm clouds seemed to draw closer. The sky lit up and bolts of lightning shot from the storm striking the ground near where she stood. She jumped back, but before her feet could hit the ground a second bolt shot from the rolling clouds and struck Sterling, throwing her into the rising waters of a nearby stream. Pain coursed through her body, and unable to move she began to sink beneath the murky surface. She tried to scream but had no breath to speak.

  Sterling jolted awake, gasping for breath. It took her a moment to realize that she was still in her own bed, safe in the tiny cottage she shared with her uncle. Sweat drenched her nightshirt. Her skin was clammy, and her heart raced with an unsteady beat. The dream had started as the same dream that she’d had since she could remember. Oddly, this time it was different. In the past, the lightning had only struck the ground around her, but this time the lethal bolts had hit her, sending her to drown in the murky flood waters.

  Sterling shuddered as an unusual feeling of dread washed over her. She contemplated the significance of the change in her dream. Despite having slept all night, she was exhausted from the effects of the nightmare. She tried forcing herself to get some
added rest, and she leaned back and covered her head with the threadbare blanket. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it never came. Her mind was too full of the dread that surrounded her. The sound of twittering birds in the predawn light kept her company in her dark cocoon. A yawn forced stale oxygen into her burning lungs. She tried once again to relax her body, but no matter how hard she tried she could not go back to sleep. The fear of having the dream again and hearing those unfamiliar words, Othail gee Elementals, was in the back of her mind. Ever since the dreams had started plaguing her nights she’d heard those same words repeated, but their meaning still eluded her. Sterling threw the covers off and stood, allowing fresh air to finally reach her lungs.

  Sterling moved the curtain back from the window and found the sun struggling to push the night’s darkness aside. There was still some time before the sun was full up. She poured fresh water into the basin and splashed the frigid liquid into her face. She followed the same routine every morning, the water refreshing the body and readying the muscles for work. This morning the water seemed much colder than usual. The iciness of her dream came back to her thoughts momentarily. She pushed it aside as she scrubbed the last dredges of sleep from her eyes and felt much better for it. Continuing her normal routine, she pulled on the leather pants that her uncle hated. He thought them unfit for a girl, but she’d protested the dreaded skirts that the women in Shee wore, claiming they were too cumbersome.

  She wore a chemise under the cotton shirt and then a leather vest. The specially made vest laced on the sides and had a sewn hood. She pulled the hood over her head, concealing her eyes from possible onlookers. Satisfied she was complete, Sterling made her way quietly down the hall so as not to wake her uncle.

  In the small kitchen, she raided the larder and found dried meat and a hunk of stale bread, perfect for an early morning breakfast. She put the hunk of bread between her teeth, so she could grab a lambskin of ale. Her boots were held under her right arm, the meat in one hand, and the lambskin in the other. It took her three attempts to open the door. When she did finally get it open, it banged against the cottage wall making an awful racket. She paused motionless for just a moment to make sure she had not woken her uncle. When no sounds emitted from his room she hooked the door with her bare foot and pulled it shut. She turned to make her way across the yard and nearly walked into a leather clad wall. She was so startled she dropped everything she had gathered, even the bread that she had held clenched between her teeth.