Story of Kings: Book 1

By Jeremiah Cox

Pristine architecture and flawlessly clean streets are the only things ‘perfect’ in the holy city of Volissa, frozen beauty of the north, but hidden behind white tile and the lofty wings of the angels hides a dark truth; when divinity is passed down through blood, one does not need to be righteous to command power. Kane understands this all too well as he seeks a way to unseat the angels and their god-kings from their position of power, but can he manage it when everything he has built for himself is threatened to become undone? In a sudden race against time, Kane has to earn the trust of cautious strangers lest he has to sacrifice love for the sake of the cause. Can Kane save his soul and the spirit of freedom, or will he have to let one die?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823003032

Jeremiah Cox

Growing up in eastern Washington, I’ve been a long time writer ever since I could remember. Becoming obsessed with various fantasy series, I would recycle old composition notebooks from my classes growing up and begin writing whatever would come to mind. I would eventually share these stories with close friends in highschool and form something of an unofficial writing club where we would collaborate and share our writing, methods, and advice we would either discover on our own or pick up from anywhere we could find it (such as from Stephen King and other famous authors). Since then, it has been my dream to become a published author and share my stories with the world. Please enjoy!

Book preview

PROLOGUE

"T hese demigods cannot be left to do as they please! King Dravonious roared, spittle spraying from his mouth, an accumulation forming on his beard. Hiding in a hole like weak cowards will see us doomed! Rho has entrusted his gift to me, I shall not waste it!"

King Dravonious stabbed his sword, Divine Intervention into his fallen foe only to pull it out with a sickening shlick and stab again and again, a twisted laughter escaping the human lord while his stilled throne room looked on in silence. The increasingly mutilated corpse on the ground belonged to one of his now former barons, his crime, publicly disagreeing with his king.

I am one of the chosen of the gods! King Dravonious cried as he continued to stab the corpse, the wrathful fire of the divine blade filling the room with the smell of burning human flesh. I was given this holy blade by Rho himself to carry on his war and I will not stop now because you are weak!

Over and over again the King stabbed the corpse, the onlookers of his court wisely staying silent. No normal man could match one who wielded a divine artifact and Dravonious was unhinged. The eyes of his courtroom glancing between themselves, all asking the same silent question. No one moved, though. No one did anything. No one had an answer to that unasked question.

The throne room endured minutes of the insane king stabbing the corpse, the smell of burning flesh until a choked sob rang out over the sound of metal cleaving through bone.

The mad king whipped his attention up. Who was that? He barked to his assembled court, drawing the blade out of the burnt corpse and swinging it wildly around. Who dares to cry at justice carried out?!? Was it you?! He yelled, pointing Divine Intervention at a nearby member of his court.

Eyes cast down, the man shook his head and took a small step back. No, my liege, he said in a calm voice.

You?! He barked at the woman next to the man.

In similar fashion, she took a step back with a shake of her head. Not I, my lord, she said, devoid of emotion.

The king then stood to his full height, towering over all others in the room. He carefully scanned the face of each member in his court, taking his time as he slowly walked a tight circle around the body. You, he said, pointing his searing blade at a small girl, tears still fresh on her face.

N-no, my lord, the child stammered out through strangled fear, gripping tight the dress of her mother beside her.

You dare lie to your king? Dravonious hissed. You break at the sight of justice and now you attempt to deceive your king? Can you even conceive your sins?

No, my lord, she cannot, the girl’s mother said. Plea- The woman was suddenly cut short when Divine Intervention cleaved her in two, from shoulder to hip.

Your king did not address you! Dravonious shouted over the now screaming child before raising his burning blade into the air. Now be cleansed of your sins by the wrath of Rho!

The fiery blade swung down in a murderous arc but was suddenly halted inches from the small girl’s head, a blackened hand fading to chalky pale skin sparing her from the inferno. The king gaped at the boy behind the girl, not much taller with sopping wet hair that was plastered down his forehead, water dripping off the sleeves of his front lace, white linen shirt. His lips and ears were blue, and his sunken, brown eyes were locked onto the king.

You- you’re dead, King Dravonious said, his voice in a hoarse whisper.

You have something to learn about murdering a child in a freshwater spring, brother, the child said with a tone just as cold as his appearance. The child then swapped his attention to the blade and immediately the fires raging down the weapon began to quell.

No! The king shouted, uselessly trying to yank the blade free from his deceased brother’s grip but to no avail. You’re dead! You cannot do this!

No, the king’s brother said in return, his tone dropping considerably as his attention shifted back to Dravonious, his small, frail frame beginning to expand and grow as the sword in his hand was raised higher and higher. In just a moment, the dead child grew to tower over both the girl and the king with teeth bared and a shadow clouding his face as an elk’s skull pushed through his wet hair to cover his features, long antlers spiking into the air. I am Kholdheart.

Without another word, the monster Kholdheart let loose a ground-shattering roar, the small girl dropping to her knees and covering her ears as the king was pushed back with a concussive force, Divine Intervention slipping free from his grasp as he fell over. Everyone else in the room was similarly knocked over with several passing out from sheer terror, weapons and armored guards clattering to the ground.

Kholdheart then grabbed Divine Intervention from either end and depressed the holy sword down into his palms, curling it up into his hands. When he was done, the once-sword was reduced to a dense ball of divine aether, brilliant and shining like the sun. Kholdheart lifted it to his maw and opened his jaw wide, then ate it in a single bite, steam rolling off him as the water once soaking him evaporated, a fur pelt rising with the steam as a mantle on the beast’s shoulders.

Impossible, King Dravonious whispered, his skewed crown sagging and falling off his head with a deafened clang. What are you?

Kholdheart stepped over the small girl and picked Dravonious up by the lapel of his royal robe. I am the god-eater, its gravelly voice said before bringing him forward and biting off his head, the crunch of bone and splatter of blood earning screams with the sound of more fainting bodies crashing against the floor.

With the monster looming over all of them, the remaining conscious member’s of Dravonious’ court were brought back to reality and snapped into action, all scattering in different directions with more panicked screams. Before any one of them could make it to an exit though, Kholdheart’s chest began to glow with heat, a faded orange then red burning through his skin as though it was charcoal. Flame shot forth from his clawed hands and enveloped the walls of the throne room in fire, creating an impassable barrier that prevented escape and burned the very stone the castle was built with.

You share in Dravonious’ guilt, Kholdheart rumbled. You will share in his punishment as well.

Without another word, Kholdheart let out another ground-shattering roar and began his hunt. Even contained within a pen of fire, the monster of shadow and fur stalked each noble in Dravonious’ court like a predator in a forest hunting its prey. With mighty claws he tore them in half, his jaws snapping off and swallowing entire limbs whole. A few of the armed men tried to mount a defense, drawing their blades and slashing at the mighty beast but with fur like iron, the swords deflected harmlessly off his hide.

After Kholdheart had slaughtered the occupants of the throne room, he moved on to the rest of the castle. As the fire spread, so too did Kholdheart’s wake of death. None were spared, from the soldiers who had defended the mad king down to the peasants who had cleaned up after him and as every body hit the floor, Kholdheart’s ferocity intensified.

Leaving a trail of blood flowing from him in his wake, Kholdheart came to the entrance of the castle and looked down on the city below. A wretched city filled with wretched souls, all content with a mad king tearing apart the world. How could they not revolt? Did they not realize their complicity in all of it? The severity of abusing a weapon like Divine Intervention? Such power was not meant for the mortal realm, how could they so carelessly cut away at the threads of reality?

Kholdheart growled, grinding his teeth in a snarl. The human race would learn, or they would die.

You will stop this, brother, a booming voice sounded out from behind him. Your Rule of Balance is satisfied, the mortal realm requires no more of your intervention.

My Rule of Balance will be satisfied when I am satisfied, brother, Kholdheart said, not bothering to look back at the massive wolf that would surely be behind him. You do not get a say.

A massive, rumbling growl sounded out from the entrance of the castle, loose stones and rubble clattering on the ground. Divine Intervention is consumed. What use is terrorizing a city of mortals?

Kholdheart turned on his brother, the massive wolf occupying the castle’s entire grand entrance with his faded gray and silver body and narrowed his blood red eyes up at him. Do you not understand the severity of the abuse of the divine? The meaning of our presence here in this world? These small and callow creatures would call themselves the children of the gods out of pure arrogance and would not hesitate to raise a blade to us! If given the chance they would remove us and claim control of Balance and the realm would fall.

And you think instilling hate for us will avoid this outcome? The great wolf challenged.

Kholdheart gave a single shake of his head. Out of fear shall we avoid this outcome. I will instill a terror so deep in mortals that out of pure instinct they won’t even be tempted by divine power. Locked within their hearts of hearts they will know the folly of this sin for every generation to come, and I will teach it to them.

Again the great wolf let loose his powerful growl, snarling down at his brother. He narrowed his eyes and spoke in his telepathic voice. Taken brother of late King Dravonious, Holland Dravonious; end your pact with the entity Kholdheart and nevermore bond your soul with the Fae.

Upon command, the small body of Holland Dravonious slipped from the monstrous form of Koldheart and fell back onto the ground. Kholdheart bared his fangs at his brother with clenched fists but his once solid body was already fading into a translucent haze.

I will not be stopped, brother, Kholdheart said, his voice a whisper. You cannot defy my Rule of Balance for long. Not even you.

As Kholdheart faded into the wind, his elk skull was all that remained. It dropped to the ground before the child, still radiating Kholdheart’s malice. The great wolf sighed and as his breath escaped him, his form shrunk and deflated down until a wild man stood in the beast’s place. Like the wolf, the man’s hair was silver, a wild mane that spilled down his back with his bare form, save for countless scars all over his body and a black pelt wrapped about his waist.

The man stepped forward, gazing down at the skull. He knelt down and reached forward to pick it up but the second he touched it, Chaos Energy shocked him, flooding up his arm as it raced into his being. The man ripped his arm away in an instant but the power had already forced its way up and to his elbow, blackening his skin. He growled down at the evil artifact before channeling the energies of nature, swirling them in his core before expelling the maelstrom out his afflicted arm and expunging the Chaos Energy, restoring his arm.

Hypocrisy is not in your nature, brother, the man murmured as he traced signals in the air over the skull. His eyes narrowed at the result. This is not of your making. This is your new play, then?

The man’s attention was pulled away as a figure came stumbling past him, a small girl in a fine dress coughing up smoke. She fell to her knees beside the fallen boy and grabbed ahold of his arm. You- she stammered. You saved me, thank you- she managed to say before collapsing to the ground herself.

The man cocked his head to the side, Kholdheart had spared her? Was it for some scheme to spread fear? No, that couldn’t be it, he had saved her from Dravonious. In her later years, the girl would no doubt understand the actions of Kholdheart and favor him for saving her, not fear him for sparing her. Then why? Did he intend to start some cult dedicated to Kholdheart? A means to aid in his reincarnations, then?

Before he could think much on it, men from the city below finally reached the burning castle, groups detaching as they began attempting to quell the blaze with buckets of water. Unlikely, Kholdheart had started that inferno with the energy from Divine Intervention.

One group rushed directly up the stairs, pausing when they saw the two children laying in the entrance. They immediately shouted at their discovery, calling for aid from others before rushing forward. The moment they entered the presence of the elk skull, however, all but one fell back, their expressions twisting into abject horror.

The wild man leaned forward and examined them, interested at this sight. With his Maelstrom-Wild magic it was impossible for them to see or sense him. He would registar no more than a body of dense aether and only if any of them held sensory abilities. He was curious though, it was expected for the humans to feel the malice of the skull, they had nothing to defend themselves with after all. What caught his attention though was the human who held their ground.

The man was tall, with decent strength for a human. Wore the simple clothes of a stablemaster but was paired with the intense gaze of a warrior. His eyes were quick and assessing, scanning each of the children before focusing on the elk skull, the source of raw malice they all felt. Then the man approached it, cautiously stepping forward, brow knit together with a bead of sweat forming on his temple. The wild man watched the human swallow hard, then reach forward to pick up the skull, and he watched as the vile aura of the skull curl open as if to invite the human male.

In an instant, the wolf had shot their hand forward and grabbed ahold of the human, locking his wrist in an iron grip and preventing the human from touching the skull. The human stable master immediately tried to jerk back, eyes wide with fear but the wolf kept him in place. Conjuring more of his maelstrom aether, the wolf began to encompass the human with it in slow waves all while observing him. The human constantly changed his focus, the wolf knew he couldn’t see the aether but somehow the human managed to track it, almost watching the waves and while he couldn’t see the wolf, the human also kept looking him in the eyes.

After a few brief moments, the wolf completed his spell and in that moment, the human truly saw. As he looked into the emerald green eyes of the wolf, the human’s jaw clenched and he spoke nothing.

The wolf raised his chin as he appraised the human, eventually pursing his lips as he decided to speak by mouth rather than mind. You are warned, mortal; this artifact holds only ill will. Do not be deceived.

The human swallowed hard, unflinching as he maintained the wolf’s gaze. I know what you are, he said. Only receiving an arched brow in response, he continued. My name is Akaneal of Riverglow.

So you do, the wolf said with a nod and a slight smile touching his lips. He then directed Akaneal’s attention to the elk skull. A trespass of an eternal evil. You must keep it, destroy it if you can but never don it lest it be your undoing. Do this for Life and you may bear my name. Do you, Akaneal of Riverglow, accept?

Akaneal went pale. He glanced down at the mask, his hand still hovering above it in the wolf’s impossible grasp. He then glanced over his shoulder. The children? He asked.

The wolf cocked his head to the side. Products of these events. The boy is the heart, the girl is the key, neither can afford to deny their role.

You mean for me to take care of them? Akaneal asked. How are they related to the mask?

The boy is the heart, the wolf repeated, shifting his attention back down to the elk skull. The girl is the key. Roles to be passed down, tied now to this artifact, one cannot exist without the others. He then shifted his focus back to Akaneal. The boy is unable to don the artifact again, but his predecessor will. He must not be allowed to wear the mask.

He? Akaneal asked.

The wolf nodded. You mortals mirror Creation, and we are the Keepers. The wolf murmured, eyes listing closed before he refocused on the human before him. What say you, Akaneal of Riverglow? Will you take my name and all that comes with it? Become the guardian of the Mask of Kholdheart and take the blessing of the name of a Primal Archfae?

Akaneal nodded. I will, he said solemnly.

Then it is so, Akaneal Fenrir, the wolf, Fenrir said. Guard the mask, guide these children, and protect this name above all else. They are now the only things that matter.

CHAPTER

ONE

A tall man obscured in a long coat exchanged words with a merchant, clouds of warm breath escaping in the cold weather. The man in the long coat accepted a small coin purse from the other man, tracing back his straight chestnut hair behind his ear before placing his hands in his pockets then nodding, leaving on his way down the busy yet pristine city street. She caught a glimpse of his white bandana sashed around his forehead again, the emblem of a sun facing out, just one sign of many. Evelyn narrowed her eyes, checking the elongated shadows cast by the buildings before returning her gaze to the vagabond.

How do you manage it? She muttered to herself, quickly cleaning her own workstation in a carpenter’s shop that was across the street, putting tools away and dusting off her laced, white cotton shirt and simple hempen pants. Of all the times Evelyn had followed the man, Kane, every time he had taken a random, temporary job from a random employer, completed it, got paid, and never returned. Why? Evelyn didn’t understand what could drive him to avoid steady work, why he always moved on so quickly. What was he after?

Collecting her own pay for the day, Evelyn made her way across the street and entered the shop Kane had worked in. Taking in a deep breath, she couldn’t help the real smile that touched her lips at the smell of the bakery, despite her frustrations.

Good day there, what can I do for you? The man behind the counter asked, a warm smile on his features as he glanced her up and down.

Evelyn widened her smile. Finished early for the day, she said, her golden curls bouncing as she came to the counter. Thought I’d pick up a treat before heading home. She cast her gaze back into the kitchen, noting just how tidy it was from her vantage.

Ah, I’m a bit limited to what I got, just what I got left over from this morning, the baker said with a cringe working its way into his smile. Had some work done on the oven, you see, just competed.

Oh, that should be fine, Evelyn said with a wide smile, then pursed her lips and a furrowed brow. Work on the oven done, and it’s already completed?

Yes mam, the baker said with a nod. I made as much as I could in the early morning though, so I have some left over. The man then broke into a grin. In truth, I can’t complain. Work’s done faster than I thought it’d be, having it be stone work and all. But let me be right back, I’ll get you that pastry.

Again? How does he do it? Evelyn thought to herself.

You must’ve had quite the help, to be done in a day, Evelyn called back to the man. Hire a crew?

Evelyn could hear the man let out a bark of laughter from the back. I’d say only by the grace of the god-king could I afford a crew for such a job, he said as he came back to the front with a pastry bag in hand. But it’s by the graces of the god-king that a single man did the work of a full crew for half the pay, and in half the time. He really saved me, not sure what I would’ve done otherwise.

Evelyn let out a gasp, almost cringing at herself over its lack of authenticity. How did you find such a man? You must tell me who he is, she said as she handed payment for the pastry to the baker, a light smile playing across her lips.

The baker chuckled at the remark. A fine woman like yourself still needing to find a fine man like that? He asked with a grin and a nod to her, handing her the pastry bag as his eyes performed the briefest glance over her figure.

Evelyn’s smile nearly morphed into a grimace at the attention from the baker but managed to save it with an even wider smile while accepting the treat. Only if I could meet him first. What’s his name?

Man’s name is Kane, the baker said. He said he’d be off to find a drink down the road if you fancy meeting him. Big fellow with a long coat, hard to miss. You be careful with him though, he didn’t seem suited for the city, if you understand my meaning.

Just Kane, no last name again? And again he complained about city life. Almost certainly about the angels. Evelyn’s smile turned genuine. Thank you, kind sir, she said before turning on her heels and leaving.

Once she was out on the street, Evelyn let her breath escape her in a puff, her brow furrowing as her smile slipped away. The first few times Evelyn had spoken with Kane’s various employers she had assumed they simply omitted his surname but with how many she had spoken to now, she was sure he was the one omitting it. Apparently, it just wasn’t important enough to bother with when hiring someone for only a single day. But the complaints…

Shaking herself free from her foul mood, Evelyn began walking off down the street after Kane, crossing the street quickly once again to put some distance between herself and a pair of angels. She had finished her own work at the woodworker’s early just so she could shadow him, if her instincts were right, there was a lot more to Kane than there seemed.

Watching him walk along the market streets, no one could say he was suspicious. He bartered like everyone else and always managed to pay a fair price, always managed to avoid the vendors and shops who sold less than quality wears, skirted angels expertly, and was very practical with his purchases. He did buy some cider, but even then he enjoyed it slowly. As normal as any local, except Kane wasn’t a local. To Evelyn’s knowledge, this was his first time in this marketplace. What really caught her attention, though, was how finely he walked the line.

As she had watched him, it had been like following a trail of crumbs. A frown at inflated prices and comments like ‘that’s not right,’ but understanding it’s because of angel acquisitions. A scowl at the mention of the curfew and staying out until the last minute but still making it inside in time. Everywhere he went, Kane let his dissatisfaction show while being perfectly polite and avoiding the angels. Then he moved on.

As Evelyn sat on a bench in a public roundabout, watching Kane fill a water skin from the fountain, a man took a seat beside her. She ignored him, instead taking the pastry out of her bag and taking a bite, delighted to find it had an apple filling, no doubt from the orchards not far from the city. She kept a subtle eye on Kane while she ate, aware of the man next to her doing the same.

So, what do you think? The man asked.

Evelyn took another bite, mulling over an answer. I don’t know yet, she said after a moment. He seems like the perfect person to bring in, but it’s never that easy… but my instincts are telling me to bring him in anyways.

The man rubbed his jaw, paying close attention to a vendor stand not far away. You’re not easily stumped. You sure you want to bring him in?

No, Evelyn responded quickly. But I need to talk to him to know more. He isn’t leaving enough personal details behind in his interactions, no one has even been able to tell me his surname.

The man didn’t respond for a time, both tracking Kane in the corner of their vision. That’s dangerous, he said after a while.

Yeah, I know, Evelyn said. Logic tells me to not bring him in but still, I need to talk directly with him. I have a good feeling about this one.

Again the man was silent, but then he nodded. Okay, let’s make a plan, then. Get him somewhere isolated, away from the base. You’ll have your talk, then we decide.

Evelyn nodded. That’s fair, she said, then glanced over at her associate, noting a wrapped package tucked under his arm. Delivery? She asked.

The man squeezed the package tight under his arm. No, an order.

Something for Azmal? Or for Ruhden? He shouldn’t have sat down at the bench with her. Why have you stopped?

The man was silent for a moment before he answered. You’ve been talking about him a lot, he said as his attention returned to Kane. I wanted to make my own assessment.

Evelyn arched her brow. Don’t trust me? When did that start?

You know that’s not what I mean, he said with a scowl.

Yeah, true enough. She said as she took another bite of her pastry. Why though?

The man shrugged. I guess I was curious. Never seen something demand so much of your attention before.

Mmm, he’s a difficult one. Evelyn glanced back down at the package under his arm. That’s an order though, can’t let it be late.

Right, the man agreed. I’ll get going, don’t be long.

I’ll be in soon, she said as he stood up. Keep the light on for me.

The man only nodded in response before we walked off, down one of the side streets off the roundabout. Evelyn stayed sitting, though, watching Kane. He seemed to be making idle conversation with some very animated young men, making the rambunctious group burst out with laughter at