Heartrender: Heartmaker Trilogy Book 3

By V. Romas Burton

Eman is gone. Silas is gone. Claire is gone.

When Addie returns to Ramni after her devastating encounter with Ophidian, she finds her heart broken from her recent losses. Yet, even though she is grieving, Addie continues her journey thr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Quill & Flame Publishing House
• Release date: Oct 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957899176

V. Romas Burton

V. Romas Burton grew up bouncing up and down the East Coast where she wrote her first story about magical ponies at age seven. Years later, after studying government and earning an M.A. in Theological Studies, V. Romas Burton realized something even bigger was calling out to her--stories that contained great adventures and encouraging messages. Her debut novel, Heartmender, has won several awards including: First Place in Young Adult for the 2020 Next Generation Indie Book Awards, Second Place in Juvenile/ Young Adult for the 2021 Illumination Book Awards and tied for Third Place for Young Adult Fiction- Fantasy/ Sci- Fi in the 2020 Moonbeam Children's Awards. You can find future updates and news on her website: www.vromasburton.com

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Lyle landed on the smooth stone floor with a grunt. His spectacles flew from his face, clattering a few paces in front of him. Groaning, he groped around until he grasped the familiar metal frames. Sliding the spectacles up his nose, Lyle gasped. White marbled columns lined the perimeter of the cool floor. Between each of the columns lay various picture frames, each depicting a different scene.

Screams and groans wailed from a horrific battle taking place within the frame to his right. A man with flaming red skin commanded a tornado of fire against his enemies, burning them to ash. Lyle flinched then shuddered, unable to look away as a group of blue-skinned people shrieked for help. But none came.

The frame then detached from the wall and hung itself in the adjacent slot. A new painting zoomed in, barely missing Lyle’s head as it clicked into place on the wall. Thin wisps of clouds drifted across its starry midnight sky. The stars twinkled peacefully as a woman with glittering skin gathered them in her palms before rearranging them. In seconds, the delicate whisper of an evening wind blew from the painting as perfect constellations winked back at Lyle.

Lyle pressed himself against the wall, dodging the paintings circulating through the long hall. A powerful aura radiated from the frames and blanketed over him, sending his nerves into a frenzy. Who were these depicted entities that could command fire and structure the stars?

Making sure he didn’t disturb the paintings, Lyle scampered behind a column as heat radiated up his arm. In his hand he still held the yellow orb Eman had given him. Another burst of warmth spread up his fingers to his bicep. Glancing down, Lyle gasped and dropped the orb. Pulsating lines of golden light surged through his veins, illuminating his limbs. What was happening to him? Had the orb infused him with some sort of power? But he thought it had transported him somewhere.

Hesitantly, Lyle covered his hand with his sleeve, scooped up the orb, and placed it in his pocket. Another frame whooshed by, scraping his nose. Yelping, Lyle jumped and scrambled down the hall, trying to shake out the power writhing beneath his flesh. The powerful aura pulsated down the hall, making his skin crawl with unease. Wherever he was, he didn’t like it. Maybe there was a door that would return him to Ramni.

As he hurried along, the click of a new frame hanging itself on the wall brought his attention to the left. A blue being with orange fish eyes and gills on its neck swam as fast as a fish through murky water. Lyle shuddered as the fishman dissolved an underwater mountain with a wave of its webbed hands.

With no exit in sight, Lyle continued scurrying down the hall, pressing his glowing, clammy hands on his slacks as he went. He didn’t want to encounter any of the powerful beings in these paintings. And why were his hands glowing?

As he shoved them in his pockets, his fingers brushed against the orb and the light within the sphere intensified. With a cry, Lyle raced down the hall, a cold sweat dripping down his neck. There had to be a reason why Eman had given him this orb and sent him to this place.

Lyle squeezed the orb, hoping it would send him back to Ramni. But when the welcoming trees of the library didn’t appear, he grunted. Maybe this was a test and he had to find his way out without any assistance.

Just as Lyle was about to continue through the corridor, a voice squeaked from between his boots.

Ah, you’re here! Just as he instructed.

Lyle squealed. The little ball of fluff, resembling a hedgehog, squeaked and fled behind one of the columns. Taking a deep breath, Lyle stared at the column until a little furry face peeked around it. Two beady black eyes blinked at him as a pink nose wriggled frantically from around the square base.

After taking another calming breath, Lyle adjusted his spectacles and focused his thoughts. He remembered reading a text about the creature cowering before him. An erica was what it was called, and they were only known to dwell in one realm. Yet, as Lyle peered at the glossy marble, he frowned. This didn’t look like how he pictured Lignum, the realm and home of the Rexus.

The erica slowly crept out from behind the column.

Lyle tensed, raising his hands in defense. The books he read never expounded on an erica’s behavior. Would it attack him? Eat him? As his mind whirled with the possibilities, the little creature spoke.

I apologize for scaring you.

Lyle sucked in a breath when the erica shook its whiskers. A smartly pressed red vest covered its spiny body. Taking a step back, Lyle lowered his fists. Why was a tiny hedgehog wearing a vest?

That’s okay. Lyle’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and stood taller. You said you knew I was coming?

The erica nodded fervently. Master Eman said you would come on this very day at this very time. He instructed me to lead you through Praetor Octavius.

Lyle’s chest caved. Praetor Octavius? The Hall of the Elders?

His gut twisted into knots so tight, he nearly puked. The Elders. The leaders who reigned beyond time and space itself. Weeks ago, he’d stumbled upon a barely legible book about them in Eman’s library. For millennia, the Elders used to be under the authority of the Rexus. However, there was no Rexus currently on the throne. So now, they answered to no one.

Lyle swallowed, his mouth dry. With no king to keep them accountable, who was to stop the Elders from killing him in one swipe? Especially when he was trespassing? Lyle fisted his hair in his hands. Why would Eman send him, a weakling with only half a heart, to face the Elders alone?

Precisely! the erica cried, jumping into the air. Come, come, there’s something Master Eman wanted you to see.

Before Lyle could question what was happening, the little animal hurried down the long corridor.

Lyle hesitated. He really shouldn’t be here. Especially not with the Elders nearby. But the erica did claim that Eman had set up this whole charade. So, the question remained: Should he follow this little creature or try to find a way back to Ramni?

Lyle wiped the nervous sweat accumulating at his brow. He had to trust that Eman was right.

Mustering the small amount of courage he had, Lyle started after the spined creature. Just as he jogged a few paces, a gilded frame latched to the wall on his right and shook the marble corridor. Lyle stumbled to the floor, barely keeping his spectacles on his face. When the earthquake ceased, he glanced up to see a large man comprised of brown stones lifting his hands, commanding the land to rise into a plateau the size of Barracks. Squelching his fear, Lyle bounced up and focused on following the creature.

Gawking at the new paintings floating by, Lyle didn’t notice the erica had stopped. Lyle cried out, his boots skidding along the polished floor as he tried to cease his steps. He winced at the squeaky sound as black marks branded the once perfectly shined floor. Glancing down, Lyle found the erica rolled into a tight ball, spines poking out in defense.

I apologize, Lyle breathed as the creature unrolled its spikes and stood. Are you okay?

Oh no, I’m the one who should apologize, Master Lyle, the creature exclaimed, dusting off his already pristine vest. An erica can get easily frightened.

That’s right, Lyle said, crouching down and lowering his voice. I remember now. I’ve read about ericas and your … timid spirit. He smiled at the erica who looked down at its padded feet, embarrassed.

Lyle chuckled. It was then he noticed the pair of onyx black doors before him. They stretched from floor to ceiling, forcing Lyle to crane his neck to find their end. Two crystal handles hung in the middle.

Lyle wanted to reach out and turn the knob, but his fear of what lay on the other side was too great.

Instead, he crouched next to the creature. I thought erica were only known to the realm of Lignum, exclusively to serve the Rexus. What are you doing in the Hall of the Elders?

The animal sighed as he paced back and forth. It was a horrible day when Lignum was destroyed. We had nowhere else to go. We had no choice but to flee to the Elders to find safety and protection.

What do you mean Lignum was destroyed? Lyle asked, confusion sweeping through his mind.

Nothing he read had ever mentioned the destruction of Lignum. He was about to ask another question when the erica squeaked and ran up his arm, clinging to his shoulder. Lyle flinched as its spines poked into his cheek, his elbow grazing the great black doors.

The onyx doors cracked open just a sliver. Anxiety and excitement pounded in Lyle’s chest. Should he look in? Who knew of the wonders he could learn from the Elders? Or they could kill him on the spot.

Quiet, Master Lyle, the creature whispered softly. Eman sent you here, but you must choose whether you wish to stay and listen or flee.

Lyle sucked in a breath. He could return to his safe dwelling in Ramni and forget this all happened. Or he could possibly find out why Eman wanted him to come here.

I’ll stay, he replied before the creature shushed him.

If you are to listen, you must not be seen or heard.

With his decision made, Lyle nodded and lowered himself fully to the ground. As quiet as a mouse, he crawled closer to the cracked door.

Inside, three people sat around a large wooden table. In the center, a beautiful woman with sparkling pale skin and long, flowing hair elegantly folded her hands over one another. To her right was a man with golden eyes, like the refugees in Ramni. Leather armor wrapped around his body as he leaned back in his chair. His lips turned down as he crossed his thick arms over his chest, facing the third person. Lyle strained to glimpse who the last person was but could only see a pair of ebony hands that shone like stone.

He remembered how Ophidian had replaced Schism’s severed arm with the same stone. Was the third person working for Ophidian? Why would they be in the Hall of the Elders?

There must be another way!

The stone fists slammed onto the large table, causing another small erica seated on the table to shriek and curl into a ball.

There is no other way, the man with the golden eyes replied calmly. We’ve looked into all possible futures, Amos. This is the one that must be fulfilled.

Are you absolutely certain, Mistress Stell? Amos questioned with forced hope.

The woman in the middle, Mistress Stell, released a deep sigh and lifted her face to the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she outstretched her palms and beckoned three delicate stars to descend from above.

What— Lyle started before the erica dug its spines into his cheek. Lyle growled but clamped his mouth shut.

The stars of Reliqu have divulged three possible futures. The first is cloaked with darkness and tragedy. Violence, plagues, and monsters will appear. But there is hope that the Bellata’s power, along with a new power, will be revealed to cage the darkness forever. The second is filled with emptiness and longing. Loneliness will consume her life, but she will be at peace. And the third future is unknown.

Lyle muttered under his breath, Why are the Elders talking about Addie and her possible futures? And what does that have to do with me?

The erica on his shoulder pinched his cheek and Lyle stifled a cry. The creature gave him a chiding look before motioning back to the Elders.

The first future is the only one with hope. It must be the one taken, the golden-eyed man finished.

What about the unknown future? There could be hope there, Amos said, but Lyle could hear the defeat in his voice.

Lyle leaned forward, trying to get a better look at Amos. Why did he care so much about Addie’s future? Who was he?

Mistress Stell lowered her hands and looked straight at Lyle through the crack between the doors. He held his breath.

I’m afraid the stars of Reliqu have spoken all they wish to say. It is now up to the individuals connected to these futures to decide what happens.

They’ll both die! Amos exclaimed with panic and frustration. I’ve already lost Laurie; I can’t lose my children, too.

Lyle’s thoughts whirled. This man couldn’t be ...

Mistress Stell turned to Amos. Have faith, Master Amos. The future is not as shadowed as you believe. She cocked her head, her shimmering hair brushing her slim shoulders. I’ve done all that I can. However—she faced the golden-eyed man—you have not.

The man jerked back, surprised, but quickly regained his composure. If you wish for me to be involved, Mistress Stell, I will. The man gave a quick bow before disappearing in a flash of golden light.

Lyle reared back before a strong hand gripped his shoulder, another wrapping over his mouth. A muffled scream came from Lyle’s lips as he was spun around. His back slammed the black door shut as he was shoved against it. The erica flew off his shoulder, paralyzed in its curled state.

The golden-eyed man glowered at Lyle, like an animal ready to attack its prey. Slowly, he relaxed his grip on Lyle’s shoulder, but kept one gloved hand over Lyle’s mouth. He quietly brought a finger to his lips as he untied a dark circular device hanging on his belt.

Lyle furrowed his brow. The device was the same as the necklaces of the refugees in Ramni. But what did they do?

The man placed the object in Lyle’s hand. You’re definitely their son, all right. Curious to the core, the man snorted. You have one chance, Lyle Tye. Make it count. The golden-eyed man took the yellow orb out of Lyle’s pocket. Think of Ramni, he commanded and tapped it.

In an instant, Lyle was consumed by the yellow light.

CHAPTER 1

SILAS

Addie’s beautiful face contorted in anguish, ripping Silas’s soul to shreds. Then, everything went black.

Empty and lost, Silas drifted away along a dark current. Wisps of shadows streamed around his arms and legs, constricting until a searing pain sliced down his spine. After a few moments, the pain dulled and Silas floated along the river of shadows, not knowing how much time had passed. How long had it been since he’d seen Addie? Had it been hours? Days? The pain intensified again. Red and orange lights flashed across Silas’s vision. He tried to scream but couldn’t utter a sound.

Another harsh bolt rippled through his bones. His limbs refused to move, caging him in agony. Straining, Silas fought to open his eyes, but failed, leaving him trapped with the crimson lights bursting under his lids.

Look what we have here. A pair of cold hands rolled Silas onto his back. A pause. It can’t be.

It is. I’m sure of it, another voice whispered.

Who had found him? Schism? Dacenda? Silas wanted to flee but couldn’t move. After a moment more, he felt a twinge of familiarity from the voices. A Magister. No, not one Magister, but two. His mind couldn’t place which ones though.

Silas shut out the voices, drowning their words in a swirl of his own guilt. He knew what they had found: the mark over his heart. It was the same truth that drove Ophidian to hunt him. The same reason why Addie’s mud and tear-stained face haunted his mind. He was the Rexus. The rightful heir to the throne of Lignum—king over all the realms. And he had failed. His kingdom would remain lost and cursed, just like him.

Still, if the Magisters were here, maybe there was hope. Maybe he could plead for help and forgiveness. But what did it matter? Without his heart, without Addie, he was nothing.

The voices of the Magisters eventually drifted away, leaving Silas to his misery. He deserved to be abandoned after failing the realms.

A few moments went by before warmth spread through his arms and legs. Silas wriggled his toes first. Once they moved, he tested his fingers. Everything seemed to be working. But how? Had Ophidian not taken his heart?

Taking a breath, Silas shifted his eyes beneath his lids before opening them to unending darkness. A harsh pain stabbed his chest as he struggled to sit up. He grabbed the spot, choking on the fire burning inside. Yet as his hand passed over the mark on his chest, Silas froze. No longer was it the mark of the Mender. Another mark had been made.

I should’ve told her, Silas muttered to himself, rubbing the five large punctures left by Ophidian’s claws.

As soon as he received his half-heart, Silas knew he would have to lose his whole heart to the Beast. It’s what Eman warned him of if he were to join Addie on her journey. Unfortunately, in order to stop Ophidian and save the realms, he had to sacrifice his heart and endure the torture of Ophidian’s black heart. The only thing that pained Silas was that he couldn’t tell Addie anything.

Brushing off whatever grime was on his hands; Silas stood and surveyed his surroundings. Black, black, and more black. He wiped his brow, remembering the words from Eman all those years ago. To be a king meant sacrifice. Sacrifice of everything: his heart, his life, even Addie. Only then would he have the strength to become the Rexus.

Swallowing, he buried his face in his hands, the acid taste of regret burning his tongue. No. He had chosen this path for himself. There was no turning back now.

At the thought, a light flickered to his right. Instantly, the frigid air of Barracks billowed around him. Ice and snow accumulated around him, chilling his bones. Trees shot up from the dark ground as charcoal clouds rolled in above. Silas furrowed his brow. The Wintertide Forest. But how? Was this a dream?

The wind bit at his skin with needle-sharp teeth. Freezing mud caked his feet. No, this felt too real. But how was he back in Barracks?

The scene shifted, and he found himself in the heart of the marketplace, jostled by the crowd. Suddenly, a figure blurred past him, sending chills down his arms. Addie. It was Addie racing through the crowd.

Addie, Silas called, immediately running after her. Her bright-blue eyes blazed with fear as she spun around to face him. Addie, what’s wrong?

He hurried to her, needing to touch her to know she was alive. Gently grabbing her wrist, Silas pulled her close. Her warmth eased his weary spirit as he wrapped his arms around her waist. But then she shoved him away.

Stumbling back, Silas froze. Addie was wearing the same Extraction gown from her Heart Reign. Had he traveled back in time? Confused, he reached out again.

Addie, Silas said, coming next to her, but she dashed away. Addie, wait!

Silas tried to follow the bright-white gown as Addie faded into the distance. As soon as he caught up, another Addie waited for him. This one’s eyes were bright red, filled with anger and rage. Dressed in her warrior’s armor, Addie ignited her alme and charged at him. Terror gripped Silas’s throat as he remembered their battle in the desert. Another past memory. Was he to relive all of his regrets? He already knew there was no forgiving him shamelessly attacking Addie in Obesque.

But, if he were reliving his past, maybe he could change it. Dodging Addie’s jab, Silas spun around and tried to block her but was met with a blade stabbing through his back. He reached around to stop the blood but found there wasn’t any. Another cut followed the first and Silas fell to his knees.

Wait, Addie, he cried. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

When he peered up, he saw the faces of Damien and Addie glaring down at him. They both pulled back their weapons and impaled him in the chest.

Fiery pain blazed through Silas’s chest, coiling his limbs in torrents of agony. Silas shut his eyes and screamed, but when he opened them again, Addie and Damien were gone. He quickly patted his chest and back. There were no wounds or blood. But it had felt so real. Panting, Silas ran a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t meant to change the past, was he already in the test Eman had warned him about?

He searched through the dark abyss. This couldn’t be a dream, but another nightmare. A curse perhaps. One he deserved. After all, it was his fault he let Addie enter Ophidian’s doors. His fault Addie pushed him away. His fault Damien betrayed them. He should have seen it all coming. But he couldn’t do anything about it.

Another light flashed in the distance and Silas squinted to see what was coming for him next. But it wasn’t another version of Addie that he saw, but him and Addie. They stood outside the caves in Dunsque, sharing a passionate kiss. Silas rubbed the back of his neck, the loneliness gnawing at him. He wished he had told Addie every day how much he loved her. Now it was too late.

When the image faded, shadows swallowed the abyss once more. Silas analyzed the dark terrain. It was nothing like Ophidian’s Realm. There was no light to guide a path, no doors filled with temptations. Only darkness.

Silas’s solitary footsteps echoed throughout the void as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Maybe this wasn’t his test after all. Maybe he was already dead and stuck in limbo. What if Ophidian had already won, and this was Silas’s eternal punishment?

He deserved to go through another round of torment, even if it was torture at the hands of Addie. After all, there was no way he could know for sure that she was safe. Or alive. What a fitting punishment for him indeed.

A white spark caught his eye. Silas stopped and waited. After a few moments, the orb of flame flashed again. Cautiously, he started toward it. It pulsed once more before a voice spoke through it.

Silas! Addie screamed before her bruised and broken body appeared in the writhing white flames.

His stomach clenched. Addie!

As he sprinted to reach her, Addie drew further and further away. Sweat beaded at Silas’s brow as he forced his legs to move faster than they ever had. If Ophidian had taken her, he would do everything in his power to make the Beast pay. With anger flooding his veins, he pumped his legs harder. Silas launched himself into the flames, extending his arm to reach Addie, but she was still too far away.

Run, little king. Ophidian’s voice echoed around him. Run and see if you can save her.

Let her go! Silas yelled back, ready to attack the Beast. It’s me you want!

Ophidian blinked in front of Silas, clutching a bright-red, pulsing heart in his hand. I’ve already taken all I want from you, he chuckled before disappearing.

Come back! Silas screamed, rage pounding between his ears.

Laughter bounced through the abyss as Silas strained to reach Addie’s body, consumed in flame. He ran and ran until suddenly, there was nowhere left to run. The ground vanished beneath his feet, sending him falling through the air. Silas flailed, trying to grab hold of something to stop his fall. But his hands only caught the air whipping around him.

Churning waves rumbled below as he continued his downward spiral. Before he could gulp for air, Silas crashed into the black roaring water.

CHAPTER 2

ADDIE

The glass paperweight was cold and heavy in my hand as I slid it across the crinkling parchment. It had been three weeks. Three weeks since Damien’s betrayal. Three weeks since I left Claire. Three weeks since I lost Silas to Ophidian.

I blew my stray curls out of my eyes to get a better look at the map. Our only copy of Ophidian’s lair, Claire’s prison. Thick lines of black ink swished this way and that, creating an almost impossible guide to follow. How Romen had remembered each of these tunnels and where they led, I had no idea.

Rubbing my eyes, I brought the flickering candle closer to study the map. The ones I had burned earlier were already nubs. As each day passed without Eman, the library dimmed more and more. With its creator gone, Ramni was just a shadow of itself.

Since our return, Romen, Lyle, and I had been working tirelessly, hoping for a plan to rescue Claire from Ophidian. But, even in the safety of Ramni, it seemed our time was running short. With Eman dead, there was no telling how long this sacred place would protect us from the coming darkness. I knew I needed to finish my task and unite the Twelve Magisters, but without Claire, I was useless. She was the one who helped me survive so many obstacles. Claire sacrificed so much to keep me alive—the least I could do was save her. We needed her. I needed her.

I traced my finger along a winding tunnel following the edge of the lair. It seemed like the most obscure, yet direct, path to where Claire would be held. If she was still alive.

I slammed the thought away. Claire was alive. She had to be. I wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

As I added a few more notes to my already filled journal, a steaming cup of tea was slid before me. I glanced up to find Lyle, worn and weary, slumping into a rickety wooden rocking chair beside me.

His usually bright eyes were bloodshot with thick shadows layering beneath. Despite my protests, Lyle had refused to rest. After Eman’s death, Lyle was the only one who knew how to create and maintain portals between Ramni and Decim. Since our return from Regno, he had been hard at work constructing doorways to each Magister’s Land I had rescued so far.

All around the library, my war room, different doors stood, each one carefully crafted by Lyle’s hand. To my left was a gray and green door for the Lands of Dunsque and Trefair, now united as a single front ever since we cleansed their people of the morb disease. Magisters Neural and Divad checked in when they could. We knew they were busy preparing their forces and crafting weapons and armor.

To my right stood a blue and gold door for Valde, promising soldiers and supplies tightly organized by Magister Asenav. I dearly valued all the wisdom she had given me over the last few weeks. With Eman gone, I was thankful to have her expertise on my side.

Across from me was a charcoal door mixed with light blue, representing the combined strength of Obesque and Ratcha. Magisters Bocaj and Sirhc were hard at work transforming the arena from Ira’s Vindicae into a training ground for their troops. They hoped to have a solid training regimen for all of Decim’s soldiers soon.

Completing the semi-circle was a white door etched in green leaves. The door to Barracks. James had been doing his best to find anyone left to help our cause.

The southern Magisters and their people were hard at work, readying to defeat Ophidian. I turned to the north of the library, eyeing the empty spaces waiting to be filled with new doors to connect us to the northern Lands. I bit my lip, running a hand through my frizzing hair. Once Claire was safe, I would travel north and finish what I had started.

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