The Deity Chronicles

By J. Hickey

A young boy grows up secluded in his small village hidden to the modern world. It is here where he finds the truth behind his secretive village and that of Earth's sister realm "Valor" and the godlike role he and his friends play between the two realms. This is a fantasy based epic geared to all ages who love the rich worlds of fantasy. Read a fascinating tale that unravels the mysteries of the world, the truth behind creation, and a ravishing war that could come to the cost of all existence as we know it

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Hickey
• Release date: Oct 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301010691

J. Hickey

J.L. was born in Saginaw, Michigan where he has a Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing through Saginaw Valley State University. He has written and is currently self publishing the popular Secret Seekers Series (a Worlds Best Story Top 10 Finalist, 2014), as well as a YA Fantasy AdventureThe Deity Chronicles: Origins. J.L. also writes adult fiction under his new press, Hickey Erotic Publishing (18+) and has released the first book in his Paranormal Erotica series The Dark Harbinger. Books available for purchase under J.L. Hickey: Secret Seekers Society Beast of Bladenboro Secret Seekers Society Solomon's Seal Secret Seekers Society Wrath of the Wendigo Deity Chronicles: Origins Wergild: A novella Books Available under Hickey Erotic Publishing -Dark Harbinger: Dirty Little Secrets! Sign up for the Secret Seekers newsletter and receive book one for free here: www.authorjlhickey.com Sign up for the Hickey Erotic Publishing newsletter and receive the first half of Dark Harbinger for free and a 50% off coupon code for the book here: www.hickeyeroticpublishing.com!

Book preview

The Deity:

Origins

The Journals of Bennett Kingsley

By J.L. Hickey

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 by Joe Hickey

ISBN 978-0-6152-3799-2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s creativity or are used fictitiously.

Cover art by Adam Santoya

If you’re interested knowing more about the author visit:

http://www.facebook.com/JosephLaurenceHickey

Dedicated to my friends and family with all the love imaginable.

A Cordial Invitation to the Land of Valor

If you’re reading this introductory note, then the time I’ve spent recording these events have not gone in vain. You see it was the duty of I, Bennett Kingsley III, humble servant to King Bailey of the Argosian district to write and record, without bias or favoritism, the events taking place within one young hero’s existence, a boy coming of age, Sir Trevor Kendrick.

I do not know how you came about this collection of events but I ask of you one thing: to keep your mind open to the tales you are about to hear and to not rule them out as mere fairy tales. For I have spent the last ten years of my life dedicated to the truths of these stories. It is within these pages I give to you the history of my people and the trials and tribulations that we endured during our darkest hours.

Please do not let all that we have overcome be lost through ignorance. You must know and believe that there is much more to our collective existence than science and knowledge could ever discover. I do not claim to have the answers to all of these questions; in fact I only offer a small fraction of truth.

Always and Forever,

Bennett Kingsly III

Table of Contents

Introduction Notes: Earth, Valor, and a boy named Trevor

Cantos I A Lost Boy

Cantos II Fableton Village

Cantos III The Party!

Cantos IV The Journey Begins

Cantos V Jumpers

Cantos VI Gremmels

Cantos VII Cerberus Village

Cantos VIII Castle Argose

Cantos IX Tea with the King

Cantos X The Journey to Castle Argose

Cantos XI The Reunion

Cantos XII A Plan Set In Motion

Cantos XIII The Wyvern

Cantos XIV The Kings Announcement

Cantos XV An Old Man’s Stew

Cantos XVI Ethereal Form

Cantos XVII Buckley’s Cure

Cantos XVIII Lady Klymenstra and her Liege

Cantos XIX The Final Ransom

Cantos XX The Final Walk

Cantos XXI A Plan Gone Awry

Cantos XXII Truth Be Told

Cantos XXIII: A Broken Army

Cantos XXIV: A New Chapter for a New Beginning

Introduction Notes:

Earth, Valor, and a boy named Trevor

It’s utterly important for one to understand how reality operates before I can begin the origin of our young hero known to the Universe as Sir Trevor Kendrick. However, if you are truly eager to jumpstart the tale you may skip this section and leap in head first knowing only what you know now. It will however, benefit you greatly if you take the time and allow me to educate yourself on the way the world truly works.

You see it is quite evident to the story for one to come to terms with the fact, that when you peer outside of your cozy and comfortable bedroom window, all that you see and think you know, may not be everything that there is to be seen or known. Surely this will be hard to believe, perhaps even perplexing to our younger reader’s minds. Yet I cannot stress enough, the world is magical and ridden with secrets unknown to even the most brilliant of minds.

It is ultimately your choice after all, as a reader to choose to accept these collections of stories as truth or as mere fantasy. Either way, when you peek outside and see your homely street and your nosey neighbors, there is another world out there as well. Standing just outside your vision, like a whisper in the wind, it is there and very much alive, yet hardly noticeable. It is filled with many people that all have lives of their own, countries within continents. All of which are filled with their own history and past, laws and beliefs. It is true, a whole other world living and coexisting within your own, right under your very noses.

Let me explain, not in the highly educated tone that scholars may use, but in more concrete interpretation, with hopes that our younger minds who may be thumbing through these pages can understand.

You see the planet and everything you see around you has what our worldly scholars call natural balance. This means everything has two sides. On each side is the exact amount of weight. This creates a sense of balance to the universe and all it’s on goings and forth comings. For example, where there is light there is also dark, good to evil, birth to death, and in the case of your lovely planet third removed from the sun, there is Earth, home to technology and machinery. The equaling balance of this world is my native land Valor, home to sorcery and magical wonders.

If you are having a hard time coming to terms with the conception of dual realities, do not fret. Our young hero was merely a fifteen-year-old child when he was faced with these truths, and just as he learned of our planets secrets so will you.

I welcome you all to follow his footsteps and unlock the mysteries of our world one step at a time. So without further ado…

Cantos I

A Lost Boy

A young boy lay unconscious next to the shoreline of a dark and desolate pond. Its small stretch of visible shoreline was heavily overtaken by an overabundance of weeds and jagged rocks that offered little protection for the body of this mysterious young boy who laid there. Covered with slimy layers of algae, the pond was overshadowed by the dense and overpowering forest surrounding it. There was by nature’s chance, a small clearing that was devoid of hardly any warmth or light. Not even the power of the sun was strong enough to squeeze through the foliage that hovered high atop of canopy of trees.

He laid there unconscious for hours before he finally began to come to. No longer would the bliss of ignorance be his ally; he could not hide in his unconscious mind from the dangers that undoubtedly lurked about. As soon as his eyes opened an immense pain shot throughout his body. It was everywhere, completely consuming everything he knew. His head pounded in unison with his heart, both accelerating in agony with each waking moment. The tiny bit of sunlight that did manage to pierce through the dense canopy only added to his suffering, as it did nothing but add to the burning of his eyes.

The boy rolled over and out of desperation extended his arms out for the pond’s murky waters. He splashed the foul liquid into his eyes and flushed them out. As the water ran off his face and into his palms, he stood frozen from what he saw staring back up at him. He could not recognize his own reflection. His once boyish unblemished face was now largely swollen with a massive bump on the right side of his forehead and an open wound still heavily bleeding on the left. His messy brown hair was now matted together with a paste-like mixture of dirt and blood. A thick layer of dirt covered his normally pink skin, masking it with shades of black The only resemblance of his former self was his bright blue eyes, reassuring that it was indeed his own reflection staring back at him.

Where am I? The boy attempted to stand and instead fell back to his knees in pain. Disorientation and confusion struck his mind.

How'd I get here? he looked anxiously towards the daunting forest as if expecting a response.

His memory escaped him. He tried to rack his brain for answers. Frantically he tried to gather his bearings but nothing made sense, he hadn't a clue how he had gotten there, or where there was. The more he studied the pond the more his surroundings began to evoke an eerie familiarity. He knew he had been there before, he felt the itching of remembrance prodding the tip of his tongue, yet he could not pin point the notion. For the harder he tried to remember, the throbbing of his head worsened. Still bleary, he tried to remain calm. Finding a nearby stone, bulky and reasonably flat, he sat and rested. Perhaps he thought resting might ease the throbbing of his damaged body. He breathed slow, taking in the cool mid day air and tried to retrace his steps. Yet nothing came to him.

The boy felt the air grow cold as the little amount of sunlight that was there quickly became extinct through the shroud of the forest around him. The chill prompted the boy to grasp at his garment, most notably his thick cloak to which he pulled tightly around his body keeping the little warmth he did have from escaping. He vaguely remembered putting on the traveler's cloak his grandfather had given him when he was younger, for the first time earlier that day. Due to its sheer size it kept from him the weight of a long oaken staff tucked within its interior folds.

He hadn’t remembered carrying the staff at first. In fact, he was shocked when he felt the edge of the blunt object poking him from inside the cloak. The young man unable to maintain his curiosity pulled forth the magnificently crafted staff; its heft and ornate etchings immediately left him in awe of its beauty. The menace of the forest and the pain of his injuries escaped his conscious as he held the staff in his hands. A beautifully angelic seraph’s wings swept delicately upward and around the full length of the staff, evidence of its meticulous, elaborate design. As the boy’s hand fully gripped the cool wooden frame, his memories suddenly shot forth through his body.

He remembered awaking like any typical fifteen-year-old boy would earlier that same morning. Presents, his best friend, and his loving grandfather surrounding him. For it was in fact the celebration of his birthday. But that is not all that his sudden remembrance brought forth. Murky visions of a mysterious insect biting his grandfather and the violent coma that soon followed. Finally, he remembered the utter feeling of chaos and the desperation he felt as he and his three friends set out to find help. The violent imagery that dominated his memories and this sudden rush of remembrance jolted the young boy’s brain. He could not fathom all of these horrific memories at once, and it sent the child into a state of disarray. His stomach sunk and his surroundings swirled into a mesh of colors.

Kodie! Caleb! Nigel! Anyone? he yelled the names of his lost friends with only the tease of his own echo answering back to his cries. He attempted once more to stand and run, but his body failed once more. The young boy lost his balance, and falling once again back onto the muddy shore he slipped helplessly into unconsciousness.

Awake, the young man might have heard the rustling noise from the bushes about twelve feet away. If he didn’t lay helpless in the muck exposed on his stomach, he may have seen the scaly orange hands forcefully tear through the undergrowth. He could have seen the small wicked head of a creature, quite unattractive in all respects, poking through and snarling. Its evil red eyes glaring, piercing towards its prey it let out a feint chirping noise. The beast nostrils flared, as it smelled for the scent of the child in the cool moon lit air. It stood now upright drooling in anticipation of its conveniently simple meal.

The beast, standing roughly three feet in height, had a viciously cruel face marked with many human-like qualities. The main exception was its prominent pointy ears that sat atop its head. Its jaw line, thin and pointy, combined with high cheekbones, gave its head a cone-shape. The beast's skin was scaly, a mix of rusty brown and orange. Its tough exterior protected the creature like a coarse, natural coat of armor. Most would say that the boy was fortunate, being spared a sight of the beast.

This particular creature had a slight mess of dark hairs atop its skull, with a large scar etched down the left side of its face. Perhaps a war wound, but likely evidence that some prey turn out to be feistier than others. Its mouth slowly opened, exposing its jagged, decaying teeth. The abomination gave out a louder chirping noise then before, as if it were testing its prey to see if it would react to its presence.

Perhaps it was the boy’s attempt to yell out for his friends that brought this predator to him, or maybe the beast could smell the blood from his fresh wounds. Regardless, the life and journey of the unconscious boy would soon begin. Sir Trevor Kendrick begins his very first moments in my homeland with his life very much so in jeopardy.

Cantos II

Fableton Village

Before the young hero was deemed a Savior, and long before he lay at the mercy of a beastly creature in a far-away forest, he grew up in the small village of Fableton, under his birth name Trevor Anthony Kendrick. Here in this humble and pleasant community, he went to school, helped out with chores, and frequently broke rules and misbehaved as most boys do. Like all Fableton boys his age, Trevor played out in the village’s vast fields and forestry, especially the lands sitting behind his grandfather’s estate.

On this particular morning, he woke as he would any regular day, with the exception of the lack of sleep from the previous night. This day, however, was no normal day for Trevor. It wasn’t only his birthday, but also the celebration of the village’s foundation, the single greatest spectacle of the year for Fableton‘s villagers.

It’s the birthday boy! his grandfather Buckley cheered, as the bed-headed Trevor made his way down the creaky wooden stairs from his bedroom. Hypnotized by the smell of his favorite breakfast, cherry cakes and bacon strips his stomach growled. Or should I say the birthday young-man! Fifteen years lad, so tell me how does it feel? I dare say my old bones can’t even remember what fifteen felt like.

I feel hungry. Trevor replied. Sure does smell good. He plopped himself down onto his chair with a watering mouth. As he answered, and even after the words left his mouth, Trevor’s eyes never left the bacon sizzling and popping on the stove

I may be old, boy, but I’d never forget your favorite birthday breakfast. Buckley flopped onto Trevor’s plate a few fluffy cherry cakes, dripping with the scarlet-red cherry juice, then sat down beside his grandson. Growing boy like you needs to eat up, but make it snappy, lad! School starts in a bit.

To say grandpa Buckley was old was to say the night sky is black, rather one might say Grandpa Buckley was closer to being ancient than just merely old. He was rather scrawny in stature and his many years resulted in wrinkly loose skin that dangled off his bones. He had no hair atop his head, but his long, white beard was quite impressive and even seemed a little magical at its site. Despite his age, his appearance and his disposition were equally warm. He was to say the least, a very loving and tender man equally caring for his grandson and the Village in whole.

Buckley’s heart was as young as Trevor’s and his soul as rambunctious and restless as it was in youth. Take my word for this, dear reader, as many nights did he and I outlast the stars and the moon sharing tales and jokes with one another. To this day, I defend his honor; in my eyes, there never lived a more pure-hearted man.

Trevor loved Buckley like a father, for Buckley was a better father to Trevor then most of the father's of his friends around the village. Together, they lived at the edge of Fableton Village, in a cozy cottage with a thatched roof and its exterior sparsely decorated. Its humble appearance didn’t reflect the fact that their family heritage could be clearly traced back to the village’s founder; thus, Buckley was looked at as the village elder by many of townspeople.

The most respected man in town started Trevor’s day with a belly full of cherry cakes and bacon strips, which visibly slowed Trevor as he made his way out the door and off to school. There, in the courtyard currently populated by many young villagers, he met his best friend in all of Fableton, Kodie. He was waiting for Trevor like every school morning just within the gates to the schoolyard.

Kodie was a very humble and honest young man who possessed a body somewhat resembling that of a pear. Kodie was plump, yet despite his polite nature often found himself at the butt-end of the dreaded Fableton bully. The school’s lord of torment, Nigel Gibbons, was a nasty brute of a child. His eyes screamed mischief, and his devilish grin shot fear into the souls of any pupil in eyesight. Nigel was rather large for his age, both in height and weight, and therefore shot fear into the Kodie’s heart with his menacing size. Nigel was always making Trevor and Kodie’s lives as miserable as he possibly could.

Hurry up Trev, before he shows up, Kodie whimpered as Trevor approached.

You really need to stick up for yourself, Kodie. I might not always be here to stop him. Trevor flashed a quick, faint smile.

Where would you be? kodie didn't like Trevor's reply the least bit.

I dunno, at home. What if I’m sick? said Trevor making light of the subject.

You’re the only one who will ever stick up… But Kodie was cut off by Nigel Gibbon’s ear-splitting laughter. Nigel’s laughter never indicated anything short of mischief. Nigel was mocking them, letting them know that he was nearby, and that had heard the boys’ words. Trevor and Kodie were so engaged with one another that they both almost walked directly into Nigel. He stared down at the boys, seemingly blotting out the sun with his massive frame.

Is that my good jolly friend, Kodie? His cruel voice sent shivers down Kodie’s back.

Leave him alone, Nigel! Trevor shot back, annoyed with Nigel’s antics.

Or what? You two gonna do sumthin’ about it? You gonna stop me? With one meaty paw of a hand, Nigel grabbed Kodie upon his shoulder, spun him around, and snagged the helpless boy’s backpack. Nigel swung Kodie around by his pack, flinging him face-first into the dirt.

That’s it, Nigel! Trevor tried to intervene, but found both of his arms pinned back by Nigel’s two goons. These two burly boys followed Nigel's every word. Both of Nigel’s flunkies were as ugly as the other, rugged kids in ratty clothes. Their most note worthy descriptions lie within the scars on their knuckles from the countless fights that Nigel got them in. The young boys have known to refer to them as the Treacherous Trio. Everyone who had any sense stayed out of their way as much as possible. Unfortunately four Kodie and Trevor, there was no easy way of getting out of trouble on this day.

What were you gonna do Trevy! Beet me up? Nigel triumphantly exclaimed, then tongued the gap between his two front teeth. Looks like Bartholomew and Farkus have got you all tied up, Trevy… Nigel turned from Trevor to Kodie and smiled maliciously. It’s just you and me porky, my fat, plump, little piggy. Nigel kicked Kodie in the stomach, before thrusting his head back down to the damp grass. Kodie’s thin brown hair was now thickly covered in dirt.

You like the dirt, don’t yea piggy? Nigel, inches from Kodie’s face, took his thumb and pushed it up onto his nose. Nigel made loud snorting noises that like a hog. Kodie grew red with rage, yet teary-eyed from the unrelenting humiliation. Rather than defending himself, and protecting his honor, terror froze Kodie stiff. Unable to even muster the fortitude to quickly rise to his feet and flee, Kodie was at the mercy of the towering bully.

Now reader, if I were writing this tale of my own accord, I would no doubt end this scene with Kodie finding the most heroic, inner courage deep within himself, ending the dastardly exploits of the vile Nigel Gibbons. Unfortunately, it’s my solemn duty to my great King to retell these stories without bias or favoritism. If ever Kodie discovered courage deep within himself, it would not be on this day.

Thus, the sneering Nigel laughed relentlessly, fully enjoying the misery he was causing. Nigel, with his large, bestial foot, pushed Kodie onto his back. He then sat down on Kodie’s chest with all his weight, while pressing Kodie’s arms to the floor.

If you like dirt so much Mr. Piggy, how’s about you eat some? Grabbing Kodie’s face with his left hand, Nigel grabbed a handful of dirt with the other. Open wide! Nigel, pryed Kodie’s mouth open and readied a clump of massive clump of mud, easily held in a palm better suited to an ogre.

NIGEL MARION GIBBONS!, yelled a voice within the school’s front doors. Nigel’s two goons immediately fled the scene, leaving Nigel alone. Indulging himself completely in force-feeding Kodie fists full of mud he didn’t hear the young teacher’s angry screams. Only when he spotted the feverishly red face of Ms. Fields approaching did Nigel cease his abuse.

Nigel Gibbons!!! You let go of Kodie right this instant! For heavens sake, are you shoving dirt into his mouth? She rushed over, swiftly yet with a dominant force she grabbed Nigel’s ear, twisting it with such ferocity that it immediately turned bright red. You’re making this poor child eat dirt?

Nigel winced in pain and was unable to speak.

You are in so much trouble! We’re going to be spending much more time in the detention hall! And don’t think for a second I didn’t see your two friends, Bart and Farkus helping you. You boy’s are in it deep this time! Ms. Fields looked back to Trevor, who was helping Kodie back to his feet. I am so sorry, she exclaimed to Trevor and Kodie, but don’t worry. The correct disciplinary actions will be taken against these brutes.

Kodie said nothing, he was too humiliated. He spit a large chunk of dirt out of his mouth and wiped away his pursuing tears. What a perfect way to start out the day of Trevor’s birthday extravaganza… only unfortunately for Trevor and Kodie, Nigel would become the least of their troubles very shortly.

***

Little did they know, somewhere far away, a much more vile and evil entity put forth the beginning actions that would soon create a series of events that would alter their lives forever. Deep into a dank and murky woodland a mystical cloaked being stumbled onto a small remote pond. Beneath the hooded face came a wicked roar of a laugh that echoed through the small clearing, one so sinister even the birds nesting in the surrounding trees fled from its haunting nature.

Oh, thy lord shall be pleased, very pleased indeed, a vile voice emanated from beneath the hood. Its hand darted out of the folds of the long flowing cloak and plucked a beautiful white and purple flower