Claw of Silver: The Ladrian Chronicles, #2

By Jeremy D. Schone

A riddle answered…

     A mystery solved…

           An enemy revealed…

Following the untimely death of his beloved friend Niri, Derith "Silver" Sylvarado realizes those around him need him to rise up and become the man destiny has called him to be. His one-time goal of finding the City of Stracht and uniting the Ladrian gains new focus: to rally their power in a direct confrontation against Uthak Tairyth and his tyrannical dictatorship. With Clarity, Searin and Que-Que by his side, he works to solve the last riddle Searin's magical map revealed to them, fostering relations with the Syl and the Sebor'it along the way.

As the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place, Silver learns there is more to Tairyth's atrocities than he originally assumed. He alone has the power to save his homeland, the Ladrian and the very continent of Sysanohf from enslavement and destruction. However, he must first defeat a being he never expected to be his enemy…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeremy D. Schone
• Release date: Nov 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223647409

Jeremy D. Schone

Jeremy David Schone was raised in Columbia, Maryland as the oldest of six children.   He started writing at a very young age and finished his first draft of Mark of Silver between ninth and tenth grade. The story, characters and wording have evolved many times since then and now, over a decade later, are ready to be shared with the world. He moved to Utah when he went to Brigham Young University, where he studied Linguistics. He served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Singapore and Malaysia.   When he was 19, he got into a serious accident that tore his aorta and caused many other severe injuries. While he still experiences painful backlash from these experiences, they have only solidified his beliefs and increased his empathy as a writer.   He met his true love, Shirley, while they were at BYU. They were married in 2015 and now live together with their two children, Natalie (6) and Joshua (3) in Saratoga Springs, Utah.

Book preview

Prologue: Mark

Icemoon 29, 6 Y.D.—Onyx Abyss, Dragon Holdings

I AM DERITH SYLVARADO IV. I am the Dragonspeaker.

It is my privilege to relay unto you, my dear reader, the history of the world as seen through the eyes of my grandfather, Derith I. As this history has been lost to the annals of time, it is my solemn duty to restore it to benefit future generations. While the events in this tale may seem fantastic, I promise you they are true. The Ladrian, and all other races in this story, truly did exist. The fate of the continent truly was shaped by one man, and it is from him and those who were with him that I have learned of these events.

The story that follows next in this chronicle would have most optimally been published together with the first. Short of writing a full length history tome, it pleased me well enough to divide the history into two sections. The first book I entitled Mark of Silver, as it is not only the story of how Silver gained his mark but also how he began to leave his mark indelibly upon the continent. This second half picks up shortly after the end of the first and is entitled Claw of Silver for reasons which will hopefully become clear eventually.

As I am aware time may have elapsed since you read my previous book, please allow me to briefly reiterate that story before I explain the next. Silver was a hunter who grew up in the forest village of Maresde in the far west of Litheran. A chance encounter with a dying man literally transformed his life forever as he became the unknowing recipient of the power of the Ladrian. An ancient species hunted by the King of Litheran, the Ladrian possessed skills unmatched by any other race: incredible strength, impossible speed and the ability to transform.

Silver, not familiar with what the Ladrian were, much less how to control the incredible power he now possessed, sought guidance, first from a book on Ladrian history he found in the local archive and then from his friend Searin who had been born in the Ladrian city of Stracht.

When the royal army attacked his hometown, Silver did what any hero would do and used his newfound power to drive them away. This revealed his power, and he was promptly banished from Maresde. With no place to go or to call home, Searin recommended he and Silver return to the place of his birth: the Ladrian city of Stracht.

Unfortunately, the only map available was not so much a chart as a magical paper that revealed riddles one by one. As Silver and Searin worked to decode these riddles, they encountered new friends, new adventures and new enemies. Along the way, Silver became pacted to a creature called a Queserion, an invincible demon masquerading as a bunny, and named it Que-Que. He also united with a Syl boy named Niri of an outcast tribe called the Gil'an, a group of eternal children with the power to read minds. Together, their journey took them all across Litheran and into the borders of the nation of Avántar, where he met a woman named Clarity, the Crown Princess of a country of the water-controlling Sea Men.

The team continued their journey until finally reaching Elvandar. A poisoned arrow struck Niri in the leg and Silver flew with all his strength to get his friend to the Syl capital of Haluum for healing. The Syl would not accept Niri into their citadel until it was too late and he passed in Silver's arms. Silver returned to Haluum and was permitted to give Niri a proper funeral, transforming his body into a cloud.

The boy Silver had been became a man at that moment. As I will explain in the story to come, he worked his hardest to live up to the promise he had made to Niri's memory. This maturation prepared the way for him to become the man, the leader and the hero that his friends, the Ladrian race and all Sysanohf needed him to be.

There was still much he had to endure. A stinging series of betrayal, destruction and death would drive him, changing his quest to find the ancient Ladrian city into one of direct war against tyranny and the forces of greed. These things, in turn, would prepare him for the challenge which eventually lay ahead, where he would be instrumental in the fight against the ultimate evil that would eventually plague all the land: the wrath of the most diabolical force the world has ever known.

But as I am not prepared yet to share that tale, allow me to tell this one.

Chapter I: One Month

Windmoon 25, 2604 R.M.—Haluum, Springfield, Elvandar

IT WAS AFTERNOON AND Derith Sylvarado had done nothing all day. For what must have been the fiftieth time that day, he looked around in awe at the luxurious suite he and Searin shared. They were surrounded on all sides by walls of polished marble whose unique swirling patterns of peach and blue blended together in perfectly ordered chaos that distracted Silver for hours each time he looked at it.

The bed was the softest thing Silver had ever felt, so much that he had to force himself to sit on the floor just to stay awake. With the plush, thick carpet, he found himself drifting off on the floor as well.

Silver looked on the bed and saw Que-Que, his loyal Queserion, cuddled up against the sheets. The bed was so comfortable, even the ever vigilant monster looked ready to drift into mindless slumber. Being in this place makes me feel like a king, he told the bunny.

Well in that case, all hail King Derith I, whose first act as King was to let the Fish Girl have the room twice the size of this one. Silver turned to see Searin walk into the room. The short, glum man had an eternal frown on his face but he seemed particularly put off about something today.

Silver had originally been given a combined suite with a smaller lounge room adjoined to it. When his friends arrived, Silver courteously gave Clarity the bedroom and put two beds in the lounge. He still thought the lounge room was luxurious, but Searin, being his usual pessimistic self, was unimpressed.

Why do you always have to be a downer about everything, Searin? Silver asked, partially in jest but partially seriously. Since Niri's death, Searin's usually cold and glum nature felt even harder to deal with.

I'm not being a ‘downer', he answered in his usually blunt manner. Just a pragmatist. There's no reason for one of her to have a room twice the size as two of us. It just doesn't make mathematical sense. That means she's worth four times as much as either of us, and I simply won't stand for that.

Can't you just relax once in a while, Searin? We've been sleeping on the ground, in caves, in tents and under trees for months. He looked back at Que-Que, who was so comfortable and peaceful on the bed, he really looked like a cute baby rabbit. Now, we're sleeping on clouds of warmth and euphoria in a room the size of my house growing up. She's actually royalty, so of course she should get the bigger room.

"Ex-royalty if you recall, Searin stated. We were there when her father stripped her of her title. Plus, even if she was still Princess of that backwater swamp, she would still have no jurisdiction here in Haluum. Then he muttered, Or over us."

Silver hated when Searin spoke poorly of Avántar. He seemed to have a genuine hatred of the nation, its people and politics. Never had Silver heard a kind word from his friend's mouth about the intelligent and inventive aquatic people of the south. He was no harder on them than he was on the Syl, which had made traveling with Niri and Searin together difficult, but at least here in Haluum, Searin had not openly cursed their hosts.

"She's not an ex-Princess, Searin. This journey is a probationary time for her. She may not be on Avánti soil but her birthright still means something." Silver was chivalrous in nature. He had always done everything he could since Clarity had joined them to make sure she was comfortable, healthy and received the best treatment. Sometimes, that meant sleeping outside while she got the four-man tent all to herself and skipping meals when food was scarce so she could eat. Overall, he was only treating her like he would treat any other woman of his acquaintance.

Searin, on the other hand, had always expressed his dislike of the treatment women received. He had repeatedly grumbled about the hypocrisy of men treating women with extra kindness but denying them the right to work out of the home. Silver had come to the conclusion Searin had settled his dilemma by hating everyone equally.

So, it's been a week, Silver, Searin said, changing the subject. Any chance you'll be wanting to get out of here any time soon?

Silver looked down at the carpet. It was stainless white with spontaneous mottling of gold, which, knowing the Syl, was actually real gold. He sighed. I feel there's something more I need to do here, he said. Niri's... death... he could hardly bring himself to say the word, had a major impact on me, but I'm not sure it had the effect it should have had... here in Haluum, I mean.

Searin shook his head. What these snobs think is none of your business, he commented, slurring their hosts for the first time. Whether the Runt's death meant something to them or not, they've been living like this for millennia. You shouldn't expect to change that, Silver. What progress you've made is shocking. Met'prys'syl himself bowed to your will, which is more than any other person in the history of Sysanohf could claim. Heck, you insulted him to his face and you're still alive. That in and of itself is a lifetime achievement. Even now, you and I are in a guest suite in Haluum, but you don't grasp the significance of that.

Of course I do, Silver replied. But I'm worried that, once we leave, Met'prys'stick-in-the-mud will go back to his old self.

That's his choice, Searin growled out. We can't stick around for a thousand years to make sure he keeps his word. We have our own quest to worry about. We don't know how much farther we need to go, and we won't accomplish anything until we get out of here.

Silver kept staring at the carpet, refusing to look at his old friend's face. I know you're right. Still, I have a sneaking suspicion something's going to happen and we need to be here for it. We just need to wait a little longer.

How much longer? Searin asked, exasperated. We've already wasted a week while you and the Fish Girl got over the Runt's death. We can't stick around one day longer because you decided your gut had more common sense than your smartest companion, namely yours truly. You have training to keep up, Silver. There are things I have to teach you now that you've taken your first Tresnasi and I can't very well teach you here.

Why not? Silver asked, finally making eye contact with Searin. I spent two weeks waiting for you and Clarity to get here. Most of the time, I was in the gym, practicing and learning how to harness my new power. Haluum has all the facilities needed to practice my new skills.

Searin closed his dark, emotionless eyes and breathed deeply through his mouth. Which brings us back to the main point: there's one facility here we need and it's the only reason we're here.

The library? Silver asked more than stated. He remembered that, before Ilthéad had shot Niri, they had been planning to come to Haluum anyway so they could find another map, preferably one that did not speak in riddles, to lead them to the City of Stracht. As it was, their only clue to the city's location was an obscure three word riddle that had appeared the same day the Pìncc Laod had been destroyed by the shopkeeper at the Hwong-Shìe-Magh: In the back.

Since the riddle could have hundreds if not thousands of potential meanings, their group was no closer to finding the city than they had been before. While Searin predicted the gateway to the Ladrian city was somewhere in Elvandar, that still left them with hundreds of thousands of square miles and hundreds of backs to check. If a clearer, more obvious map existed, the library at Haluum, the most collective database in Sysanohf, would be its home.

Searin nodded. The way I see it, we don't have much of a choice. We'll have to spend some time here if we want to find what we're looking for. Since the Syl archive at Haluum is so massive, it'll take all the combined efforts of you, me and the Fish Girl to find anything of use in a reasonable time period.

Silver knew, just from asking around Haluum, that the archive was a vast vault of knowledge and information spanning literally millions of shelves and covering an unfathomable two mile area. Many Syl scholars had spent centuries cataloging the books and studying in the library, only to discover they could not possibly absorb all the collective learning without yet more centuries of reading. Syl light priests would spend centuries there as well, reading thousands of comprehensive tomes on obscure and complicated magic. Since none of them had the longevity of the Syl, Silver was not looking forward to repeating their research pattern.

The way I see it, the Pìncc Laod got us this far, Searin said. If we can find another magical map, we could just set out right away. I think there are only two more in existence, but the Syl very well might have one filed away somewhere. If not, our search of their library could prove utterly fruitless.

Silver was a man of action. He preferred to get up and do something, whether it was inherently useful for his quest or not. He had told Searin before, and he stood by his statement, that nothing useful would ever get done by standing around planning for every possible contingency. He did not want to waste his time down in the enormous archive unnecessarily.

We should set a time limit, Silver stated. We need to make a plan to just leave after a certain amount of time whether we've gotten our answer or not.

How long of a time limit? Searin asked.

I think one month sounds reasonable, Silver said, eyeing Que-Que on the comfortable bed.

You just want to get all the use you can out of that bed, Searin jibed.

Maybe so, but even without the bed, I think a month still sounds good. Silver could not ditch the feeling he was still needed in Haluum, or that one month was the length of time he needed.

A month is a huge waste of time, Silver, Searin reminded him. I was thinking three days to a week.

If we get the information sooner or if we're getting nowhere with our research, we can call it off at any time, Silver stated. I just feel like a month is what we'll need, and it'll be worth our time.

Searin held up one finger. Silver noticed, not for the first time ever but for the first time that day, just how pallid his friend's skin was. Searin's ghostly pale skin would almost look anemic if he was not in shockingly good shape. Discounting the room and the beds, give me one good reason why we should wait a whole month.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Speak of Yxl and he shall appear... Searin said out loud, quoting an old proverb. Silver went to answer the door.

Clarity was standing there, a look of general excitement on her face. She shook her head at Searin and asked, Think of me as Yxl do you? She had meant this in humor, but Searin was not in any way amused.

You look excited, Clarity, Silver commented, stating the obvious. He could not remember a single time in the three months they had known each other having seen her so happy.

They're going to be having a Neykhuta tourney! she blurted out excitedly, grinning like a schoolgirl.

Searin scrunched up his face while Silver stared blankly. Neykhuta? they both asked at the same time, Searin's tone sarcastic while Silver's confused.

Clarity pulled a rolled up paper from the sash around her waist. She flipped her wrist and showed the immaculately drawn poster to her male companions. Silver looked at the picture. Depicted on it were two men standing across from one another on a battlefield of sand. They were both bare-chested and barefooted and carried a weapon. The one on the right held an intense halberd and the one on the left brandished a deadly broadsword. They stood menacingly against the backdrop of a stadium filled completely with fans. Every detail of the poster was drawn with intricate precision down to the faces in the crowd.

I didn't take you for the sadistic type, Fish Girl, Searin said, a note of wry sarcasm in his voice.

It's not sadistic to watch people play a sport, she retorted.

A sick and twisted sport, Searin commented.

What is Neykhuta? Silver asked. He had never heard of it before and was confused by the drawing on the poster.

Only my favorite sport of all time! Clarity answered excitedly. My dad took me to Elvandar when I was little. He took me and Millos to a Neykhuta tourney they were holding in one of the smaller cities. If that one was so cool, just imagine what a Neykhuta tourney would be like in Haluum!

That's great, Clarity, but what is it? Silver asked, still confused.

It's the Elvin word for ‘dragon boxing', Searin answered. Neykhuta is a violent sport where Elvin men who don't have magical skill beat each other up for ‘honor'. It's a real shame what the world has devolved into.

Clarity rolled her eyes. It's not ‘devolution' for men to show off their combat skills, she replied. Basically, Silver, each fighter in the tourney uses a single weapon and they aren't allowed to switch weapons throughout, which is part of what makes it interesting. They pair off the fighters randomly and send them into battle with each other. The field is also randomly assigned.

Field? Silver asked. You mean they have to battle in different environments?

They have battlefields of rock, platforms in the water, over fire or high in the air, fields that are electrified in certain locations, ones made of ice, ones that give off beams of blinding light, and finally, ones where the combatants can't see anything. They're basically based off of the eight elements, plus a normal sandy field for good measure. They fight until one of the fighters surrenders or passes out.

But why don't the men have shirts or shoes on? Silver asked.

That's part of what makes it so fun! Clarity answered excitedly.

And so unnecessarily violent, Searin added.

Basically, Clarity said ignoring Searin's obvious dislike of the sport, The fighters have to be really skilled, or else they get taken down really quickly. Most of the time, matches are quick because fighters only needs one good hit and his opponent goes down, but every so often, there's a really good match where nobody gets hit for a long time. Plus, the unique battlefields make a difference in how people fight.

What happens if a fighter does get hit hard? Does only one person survive this tournament? Silver did not like the sound of a tournament where everyone but the champion died.

They have a team of medics and healers standing by, Searin answered. Silver looked at him with inquisitive surprise. What? Searin answered, shrugging. I've seen Neykhuta played before. On my first journey. It was stupid and a waste of my time.

It's not stupid, Clarity countered. Or a waste of time. My dad told me people die every so often, but it isn't any more common than other athletes. They bring in the best healers so nobody's supposed to get hurt too badly. They're just trying to knock each other out. The tournament winner usually gets some huge honor. At the tournament I went to, the winner got to be Mayor of the city for the next decade.

That sounds pretty interesting, Silver said, nodding his understanding. When is this being held? He looked at the poster again. The words were written in Elvin. What limited training he had received in Elvin growing up was not enough to make out even one word on the sign; it was written in a very fancy and archaic cursive script.

I don't know, Clarity answered. I was hoping to find someone to translate, but I don't know anyone here yet.

That's fine, Searin said, grabbing the poster thoughtlessly from Clarity's hand. I'll read it.

I thought you couldn't read Elvin? Silver questioned. They had seen Elvin words a number of times on their journey and Searin sometimes could and sometimes could not understand them.

I can't read High Elvin, the language of spells and magic, he answered. I can read normal, conversational Elvin well enough. That's how I knew ‘Hwong-Shìe-Magh' meant Gateway.

Silver was impressed as always with Searin's linguistic ability. He could speak and read Dorsin, a dead dialect of Humanic and now Elvin too. You really are full of secrets, aren't you Searin? Silver asked.

You have no idea, his friend answered. Now please. I need to concentrate. He scanned the words for a few seconds. After a moment, he nodded and said, Okay, I get it now.

When is it? Silver asked.

Let me do some quick calculations. The poster says the tournament starts on Noliru XXIII, which I think is Thundermoon 23. Since our calendar is based on the Elvin calendar, I'd assume they line up. Since today's Windmoon 25, that's forty-four days from today. It lasts seven days. It says the event is preliminary to something called ‘The Festival of Light' and the winner will become the Honored Champion at the Festival. I wonder what that means... Silver was amused there was anything Searin wondered about. The man seemed to know pretty much everything.

That's so cool! Clarity said excitedly. We should wait around for it! It would be an event to remember.

Searin looked at Silver bitterly. There's your month, Silver. Silver smiled. The Neykhuta tournament would be a perfect excuse for them to stay for a month and give Silver all the time he needed to figure out why he felt so inspired to stay in Haluum.

I think we should go watch it, Silver said, taking the role of the leader of the group. If it's really as awesome as you say, Clarity, I think we'd have to be crazy to miss this once in a lifetime chance. A smile of discovery came to his face. In fact, I think we'd have to be crazy not to participate in the tourney ourselves!

I'll have to draw the line there, Searin stated firmly. A month is a long time to wait just to see a sporting event, but since you're so adamant about waiting that long anyway, I'm okay with it. That being said, Neykhuta is a dangerous, violent sport. I can't in good conscience let you participate.

Oh, Searin, Clarity groaned, hitting the shorter man gently. Don't be such a worrier. We've already talked about that. People don't usually die playing Neykhuta. But think of the experience it'll be!

I could really keep up my training practicing for that! Silver said, his mind having settled on his determination to fight in the tourney.

The weakest fighters in the tourney have been practicing for hundreds of years, Searin stated. You won't stand a chance.

Maybe not, Silver confirmed. But at least I'll know how well I fare against more experienced enemies.

They won't let you use your Ladrian power in the tourney, you know, Searin told him.

That's okay, Silver said. "I was a hunter before I was a Ladrian. Plus, I do have Thendor'il. A legendary bow ought to get me pretty far."

Searin was out of arguments. Fine. Do what you want. Don't say I didn't warn you when you get injured in a way you can't heal with your Tresnasi.

You know, Clarity said eagerly, jumping at the idea, We should all compete! It'd be good training for us all!

Sorry, Searin said, shaking his head. Not doing it. I'll let Silver have his little fantasies, but I'm not an idiot. There's no way my swordsmanship can stand up to ancient Syl fighters. I'm out. As for you, the poster says it's for male participants only. He looked down at the poster to confirm this to himself, then nodded.

What? Clarity asked, sorrow evident in her face. I'd bet you I'm a better fighter than half the men in the tournament!

Probably not, but I bet you the rule comes with the thing about Neykhuta being a shirtless sport. You fooled Silver and his intellectual peers among the Lukar into thinking you were a man when you were wearing armor but...

Okay, Searin, I get it, Clarity answered, her cheeks blushing. But Silver can still fight?

Sure, if he registers soon. The deadline's noon tomorrow.

Silver smiled brightly. This is going to be a really interesting experience.

I bet you win the whole tourney! Clarity said excitedly.

I wouldn't bet on him even getting past the first round, Searin answered coldly. There are gonna be a lot of skilled competitors out there, warriors who've been fighting since before your grandparents' grandparents were born.

Just what I need to further my training, Silver said confidently. It looks like we know why we'll be sticking around here for one more month.

Chapter II: Escort

Windmoon 26, 2604 R.M.—Haluum, Springfield, Elvandar

ESCORT? DERITH SYLVARADO asked confusedly.

The thin Syl gentleman at the check-in counter nodded slowly, not sure why Silver was unfamiliar with the rules. To compete in the Neykhuta tourney, every man must have a female escort.

But what's the point of that? Silver asked, still not understanding what he meant.

The Syl covered his eyes with his hands out of frustration. You obviously do not know the rules, young man. I would recommend that you save yourself some embarrassment and simply not participate. You can train for the next tourney.

And when is that? Silver asked.

The Syl had no patience for Silver's ignorance. The next Kariot aur Stregal should be in about three or four centuries. Maybe if you work hard, you might be ready to compete by then... maybe. The Syl did not seem too sure.

Silver was shocked. This tournament was quite literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Kariot aur Stregal? Is that the Festival of Light the posters were talking about? Hearing the Festival was such a rare event made Silver even more excited to attend.

"I know that you are a foreigner, Ladrian, the Syl said rudely, But that is no excuse for not knowing about the Festival. It is, after all, the single most important day in the Syl calendar."

What happens? he asked, not sure if the Syl would give him a response.

Do you know what a total solar eclipse is? he asked in a condescending tone.

Sure, Silver answered, glad he could sound intelligent for once. When the moon comes fully in front of the sun. Astronomy had been interesting to Silver for a short while in his younger days.

The Syl was shocked. I am impressed. A total eclipse when the sun, moon and earth are in perfect syzygy happens only once every three or more centuries. Du Kariot aur Stregal is the dance that takes place on that day to honor the occurrence.

And you're holding a Neykhuta tourney to choose the guest of honor for the dance? Silver asked.

The Syl nodded, a small smile appearing on his long, thin face. Yes. Good guess. I was wrong about you. You are more clever than I had thought.

So that's what you meant by ‘escort', Silver concluded. Everyone participating needs to have a girl to bring to the dance.

Indeed, the Syl responded. "It is not just an