Reign of the Morning Star

By K. C. Wallace

Dark forces are at work in Seregon as Thuria and Cluros come into alignment. It is a world where mythological creatures are more than myths and reality is what legends are made from. Selah, a young orphan, lives in the Utopian kingdom of Havilah where King Heylel "the Morning Star" reigns supreme. Selah struggles to fit into a society where she is always found lacking, and suddenly everything she has ever believed is challenged, as she finds herself on a journey of self-discovery.

Zayne, a renowned warrior, is sent on a mission to find the key before it falls into enemy hands. With turmoil and battles at every turn, Zayne faces deadly giants and ravaging marauders.

Selah and Zayne are destined to meet, and it will change them and the future of Seregon forever.

Will Zayne be able to find the key before it is too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798893452044

Book preview

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Reign of the Morning Star

K. C. Wallace

ISBN 979-8-89345-203-7 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89345-204-4 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by K. C. Wallace

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

About the Author

To Rob—the strong Christian Warrior in my life

You came into my life and helped me to

become the woman I am today.

I love you and thank God for bringing

you to me to be my partner and best friend.

Thank you!

Acknowledgments

Iwould like to thank my God, who placed this dream upon my heart and wrote it within my very DNA and imbued me with the talent to achieve the task before me.

I thank my husband, who has never given up on me. He encouraged me every step of the way and had faith in my gift when I didn't. I'll never forget the words he spoke: She writes like I sing. Those words have encouraged me to keep going when I struggle with fear and need courage to go on.

I thank my family and students, who encouraged me to share my story. Thank you for pushing me further.

How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn!

You said in your heart, I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God…I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High. But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit.

—Isaiah 14:12–15 NIV

Prologue

It had been raining off and on all day long, causing the already-weary travelers to be steadily pushed to the brink of exhaustion. The lord ran a hand through his damp golden hair and squinted into the darkening surroundings. His horse snorted and tossed its head uneasily as they entered a copse of trees just when a soft drizzle began to fall. He looked around at his escort, all of whom he would trust with his life because they had trained together and been inseparable as boys. Gunther was the head of the military training school. He had decided at the last moment to join them as a recruiting mission for the upcoming fall; his new recruits would be arriving over the next couple months in anticipation of being trained by one of Havilah's finest warriors. Duncan, the commander in charge of the escort, was considered the best swordsman in the kingdom. He had not been defeated in battle since his teens because of his uncanny ability to read an opponent's moves before they made them. It was a bone of contention between Duncan and Gunther because of their similar training, but Duncan was always one step ahead of even Gunther. Tahlibrar was Elvanyth, a forest-dwelling people, possessing dark hair with a few streaks of green and lavender and eyes as green as the forest, which stood out dramatically against the golden looks of the others within the group. Tahlibrar was comparable in height, but his build was slenderer than the average Havilian, which enabled his people to be agile and live among the trees. His boy Coravelas had joined them on this excursion since he had finally come of age and prepared for his first year of training at the Havilian Military Academy.

Coravelas was presently sitting drowsily in front of his father after his horse had gotten skittish earlier in the day and thrown him before running off. Coravelas had more than just his bum bruised because he was horrified to have lost his seat in front of the most elite within the kingdom. His mishap was only one of many small incidents which had occurred, causing the party to choose to travel into the night hoping to reach Tahlibrar's manor, Krasimir, where hot food and soft beds awaited them. The lord shook his head, chuckling, knowing that Coravelas would one day make a great warrior and swordsmith like his father. He could only wish that Kulani would choose a strong warrior such as Coravelas to join in marriage, perhaps he could begin to work on that, but only after the current situation had been resolved.

The things he had witnessed and unearthed while on this impromptu journey of the kingdom had left him worried and unsure whom to trust. He knew that this was neither the time nor the place to discuss his thoughts with these men, if only they would reach Krasimir. It should not be too far from where they were now. He continued his perusal of the company. His lovely wife was to his right. Keahilani had been adamant about traveling with him since she was in the first stages of pregnancy and would not be able to travel as the pregnancy progressed. She was a slim, petite woman with periwinkle eyes and a brilliant smile that still took his breath away. He shook his head; the phrase big things come in small packages was definitely accurate pertaining to his wife. She glanced his way and bestowed upon him one of those smiles which caused him to draw closer to her and grasp her hand and bring it to his lips. Even after all these years of marriage, she was an enigma to him, and he looked forward to many happy years to discover each of her plethora of mysteries. He considered her to be his little sprite, a magical creature who had been sent by Ehyeh to guide and encourage him. His horse snorted again, which quickly brought him from his wandering thoughts back to the present situation. The light drizzle had become a steady rain as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. Ehyeh, this weather couldn't be worse.

He had sent a few men ahead to warn the people of Krasimir of their arrival, so their numbers were down to thirteen. This was less than they would normally travel but he felt that, because of the circumstances, less would be better. He had also decided to leave a heavier force to remain with Kulani to protect her and bring her to Krasimir to meet up with them. They should have arrived by now so that their little family would once again be reunited. He glanced at his wife, who seemed to be reading his thoughts (she had this uncanny knack for doing that), and nodded, and they both simultaneously spurred their horses into a steady canter.

A shiver ran up his spine. Something was not right—he glanced around the group, and they all seemed to feel the same unease. In the dark and dreary evening, the smell of woodsmoke would normally be hard to discern in the wet air, but the acrid smell hung like mist enveloping them as they drew closer to Krasimir. It was Tahlibrar who called out in dismay and horror as he scanned the horizon and discovered flames erupting from where his manor should be. He dropped his sleeping boy into the safety of the forest cove and spurred his horse into a gallop toward the holocaust which used to be his home. Keahilani's anguished cries for her little girl who should have been awaiting them at the manor hung hauntingly in the smoky air. The lord called out for his wife to remain with Coravelas as he spurred his horse to join the others.

They rode into the village surrounding the manor, finding total chaos as people were trying to flee some wounded from the foray, others carrying scared little ones, but all heading in a mass exodus from the burning horror into the safety of the wet forest. Screams echoed through the evening, and smoke billowed into the dark night and lingered throughout the streets. Tahlibrar pulled up his horse, watching in horror as the roof collapsed in a massive explosion of flames, sparks, and smoke erupting into the air. He quickly drew his sword when he saw cloaked men on horses fleeing from the scene. His cry of outrage drew the attention of the rest of the group, and they quickly charged after the villains.

The troop caught up with their prey and a fight ensued. The smoke began to creep into the clearing as the battle continued, and with it came more cloaked figures. Duncan had been knocked off his horse, but he quickly leapt to his feet with both swords in hand. He, in turn, knocked his opponent from his horse and finished him off before the man could regain his feet. Duncan quickly moved on to his next opponent, constantly taking in his surroundings and the position of each of his comrades. Gunther had taken a hit to his right arm but switched sword arms and continued the foray with his left. He parried his opponent's strike then attacked with a death blow. As he stood with his right arm hanging uselessly as his side, blood dripping from his fingertips, a new marauder attacked. Gunther's instincts had slowed from the loss of blood, but he turned just in time to dodge this new onslaught. He watched as his opponent tensed his shoulders and arms before each attack, enabling Gunther to predict the next move. He shook his head; this fighting style was too familiar to him. It was his fighting style—he had trained this man. As he glanced around, he realized that he had trained many of these men. He dispatched his opponent and called out to his lord, These are our men! Havilians! As he called out this warning, a marauder who had been lurking in the shadows pulled out his arrows and shot three quick, perfectly aimed arrows into the back of Gunther. His eyes widened in surprise as he felt the arrows penetrate. He looked down in shock, seeing an arrowhead protruding from his chest as he slowly dropped to his knees. Blood trickled from his mouth since one arrow had punctured his lung. Gunther slowly slumped to the ground as life seeped from him.

Tahlibrar had entered a berserker rage, with bloodlust darkening his eyes as he fought against those who had destroyed his home and family. He had already quickly disposed of multiple opponents and was engaged in fervent hand-to-hand combat with another. They matched each other, hit for hit, parry for parry, and feint for feint. The man's cloak fell back and Tahlibrar saw his face for the first time. Ahriman, Tahlibrar grunted out his name in hatred and disgust. He knew this man, Ahriman, but he was not supposed to be here; he had been left as the main guard to remain at the palace. What was he doing here? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Hatred radiated from him as the truth sunk in. This had been a trap—a well-laid plan to eliminate them all in one fell swoop. Ahriman had betrayed them all.

Father! A scream echoed throughout the clearing as Coravelas entered the melee.

Tahlibrar glanced in his direction which was all that Ahriman needed to fell the fatal blow. Vercingetorix, Tahlibrar's ancestral sword, dropped from his hand as he staggered backward and fell to the ground. Coravelas ran to his father and grabbed the fallen sword, hacking at Ahriman in uncontrollable rage.

The young boy was no match against a skilled fighter such as Ahriman. Ahriman had no patience for this insignificant neophyte.

You weak, insolent whelp. Do you think you can challenge me? You are nothing to me. You don't have what it takes to be a fighter. You don't deserve this sword.

Coravelas screamed in anguish before he was given a crushing blow along the side of the head, causing the boy to crumple to the ground a few feet from his dying father. Ahriman stepped over the boy and picked up the sword. Tahlibrar uttered a gurgling sound since he could no longer rise to his feet to save neither himself nor his fallen son. Tears of frustration and anguish fell as he looked to the sky in a silent plea to Ehyeh for help before he lost consciousness and departed this world.

Keahilani had stayed on the sidelines but felt as though she could not stand by and watch without doing something, anything. She laid her staff aside as she shot her arrows and took out a couple of the marauders before she was grabbed from behind and drug into the opening.

My lady! Duncan ran at them, slicing at the attackers' legs as they charged him, easily taking them out of the foray and preventing further attack.

Three others from the escort heard his call and knew what had to be done, quickly moving into formation and charging the man who held the lady. She was more than a foot shorter than her attacker, which created a clear advantage for her. She swiftly grabbed a dagger from her kirtle and stabbed the man in the leg, causing him to lose his grip on her while howling in pain. She deftly grabbed her staff and dagger as Duncan finished off her captor, and the men quickly formed a barrier around her, so they moved as one into the center of the foray enabling them to protect both the lord and his lady.

The lord did a double take and gave her a grim look of disappointment as she joined him in the midst of battle. Her natural skill with her staff gave her an advantage even with her small stature and shorter height so she was able to hold her own throughout much of the fight. As the battle wore on, though, she began to weaken and tire from the constant onslaught of the marauders who kept appearing from the woods. Lani, I told you to stay with Coravelas where it was safe!

Her breath was coming in short gasps of exertion as she chuckled softly, Darling, did you truly expect me to stay behind?

He shook his head and tried to draw closer to her. Of course not, but a man could hope, couldn't he?

My lord, I think that is one area where hoping is futile. Duncan was still at their side and laughed at their banter even in this dire time, which was one of the endearing qualities of this truly beloved couple. One by one, the men of the escort fell to the ground wounded or dead. As the fight progressed, each marauder in turn joined the foray against the couple who fought back-to-back in the center of the battle surrounded by their depleted escort. Duncan took out another opponent. Ehyeh, when will this end? Please help us. Duncan whispered this plea as he continued to fight. My lord, some of these men are ours, trained within Havilah. We have to try to get out of here before it is too late. Duncan was breathing heavily as the battle seemed to have no ending in sight. He began to look for a way to get them out but all he could see were more cloaked men arriving and their own numbers continuing to dwindle. Duncan jumped as he heard the startled cry from the woman at his left and turned in time to see someone plunging his sword into the wife of one of his closest friends. As she staggered and dropped to the ground, her husband turned because of the sudden movement and opened himself to attack as his opponent hacked at him from behind. He stumbled to the ground and crawled to where his wife's prone body lay.

As he looked up into his attacker's cold eyes, recognition and disgust flooded them. He cried out You! You…were supposed to protect… Why? He received no response as Ahriman plunged his sword into him.

Ahriman's cold eyes shown in the darkness. It is finished! His words echoed through the clearing as he turned and left. His job was complete. He barked out commands, and the marauders dispatched the rest of the weary escort before quickly grabbing their fallen comrades and disappearing into the darkness.

As the clearing fell into silence, a soft mist moved silently through the forest. The mist hid a group of warriors previously unseen within this territory. The warriors were a formidable bunch, which would have provoked fear into the hearts and minds of even the stoutest of warriors, but no fear was created in this situation. They walked into the clearing, pausing as they passed from body to body inspecting each for signs of life.

Chapter 1

She sat straight up in bed gasping for breath as though she had just run a marathon instead of waking from sleep. Selah quickly brushed away the sweat that had beaded upon her brow. How could it seem so real? Why did she continue to be plagued by this same dream? With a deep calming breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped her feet into her slippers. She grabbed her robe as an afterthought before she left her room to go for a walk, hoping that the night air would cool her body and her racing thoughts. Selah had only been in the castle for a short while, yet every night she had been awakened by the same reoccurring dream; she was alone and trapped within a maze that she would wander endlessly with no help and no hope of escape.

Slowly and silently, she crept down the hallway, brushing her hand against the cool damp stone to guide her through the unfamiliar pathways. She paused at the end of the hallway; was it a right or a left that would take her to the entrance of the gardens? She chose left, and instead of taking her out, it took her deeper into the castle.

Ugh! The frustration! How was she ever expected to remember where each of these paths led! The dark, damp passageway continued to lead her in a warren of shadowy hallways to nowhere. A trickle of fear crept down her spine; she could be lost in this maze of corridors for weeks and no one would ever find her. Her recent dream vividly resurfaced to haunt her thoughts. Was she still asleep or had she truly stepped into the haunted pathways of her dreams? As that thought fleetingly crossed her mind, she felt as though a large hand grabbed her chest and began to squeeze, instantly making it harder to breathe. What if she took the passage to the—gulp—dungeon and she was mistaken for a prisoner? Would anyone look for her? She was insignificant within the hustle and bustle of castle life; no one would search for an orphan. She thought she could even hear the dripping of water and the moans of prisoners. Her footsteps became more erratic and quickened their pace; seemingly following the same path as her thoughts with images of being lost and forsaken flooded her mind. Cold sweat now trickled down her spine. She needed to get out of there and find somewhere that was familiar.

She paused to catch her breath and regain her wits. How she hoped for anything familiar, unfortunately, there was nothing but darkness and gloom surrounding her. Hopelessness slowly crept toward her, enveloping her in its dark embrace. It curled around her ankles and swept up her legs; her knees gave out and she fell in a heap on the floor. Her breath could no longer fully be taken in but only came out in shallow gasps which soon turned into gut-wrenching sobs. There was no longer anyone to turn to; no one to comfort her in this tragic time; no one to give her hope and tell her that everything would be alright. Those people had tragically been ripped out of her life only a short time ago. No longer would she be able to see her father's laughing face and constant teasing; no longer would she feel the nurturing of her mother's tender embrace. Alone. Lost. Abandoned in an unfamiliar world, a world she had been thrust into, yet not a part of.

How unfair it all was. Oh, Ehyeh! a whisper, perhaps a prayer, had escaped her lips amid the cries and sobs. Just at that moment she felt strong warm arms lift her up and wrap her in their embrace.

Shh…little Mouse, stop crying. Everything will be okay, cooed a soft deep voice in her ear. She snuggled further into his strong embrace, hoping that it had all been a horrible nightmare and her father had returned safely home to comfort and protect her. She felt her pulse begin to slow and the sobs faltered and morphed into intermittent sighs. Selah's body began to soften and lose its tense rigidity as Heylel continued to sit in the hallway on the cold stone floor crooning to his newest charge. Come little Mouse, you are safe now, Heylel continued to softly coax.

As Selah relaxed in his arms, the words spoken over her began to register in her mind. "Little Mouse not princess" was spoken by the man who was not her father, nor could ever replace him. She began to pull away and soft little sobs, almost like the mews of a newborn kitten, escaped her lips. It wasn't a dream; this had become reality to her: she was living in a nightmare worse than any her sleeping mind could conjure. Her parents died in the attack of Krasimir; sadly, so few had lived to tell the tale of their attack, and no one could say when they had seen them last. Many of the bodies had been burned beyond recognition and Selah's parents had not been able to be clearly identified. Selah's father and Heylel had been close friends which was the primary reason that King Heylel and Queen Hekaba had so willingly taken on the care of Selah.

Heylel continued to croon and hold her tightly in his grasp, not to harm her but to comfort her. "Yes, your father is no longer here, little Mouse, but you have not been abandoned. Uncle Heylel is now your guardian and protector. I will make sure that no harm comes to you and that all your needs are met." Heylel continued to whisper into her ear and smooth the little girl's hair as she once again began to calm in his arms. He continued to whisper expressions of comfort and hope as he held her. His warmth slowly seeped into her thin gangly limbs, which had grown cold from her midnight dash through the upper halls of the castle. Slowly, the sobs and sighs dissipated, and her little body relaxed in his arms. She was so small, about the size of his own daughter when she was a mere three years old, yet he knew that Selah was well into her fifth year because she had been born a year after Aella.

Selah's eyes had fluttered open, and her hand had curled into his golden shoulder-length hair. Th…thank you, Un…Uncle Heylel came her soft whispery sigh as she floated back into a light slumber. There was a hint of a smile as he stood to his full seven-foot height and easily carried this small, now sleeping, bundle back to her room.

Early the next morning, Selah was awoken by a soft knock on the door. Groggily, she rolled over, and the images of the previous night rushed back to her. She sighed; didn't the servants warn her to be on her best behavior? If she caused too much commotion, the kindness of King Heylel may just dry up and she would be left to fend for herself. The knock returned, but this time a little louder. Sitting up and trying to brush away the fears and anxiety, she called out a tentative Come in, to be surprised by Princess Aella entering the room. The presence of the princess immediately filled every inch of her quarters. Her long golden curls bounced around her face and flowed freely down her back. There was a sparkle of laughter and mischief glimmering in her soft brown eyes. She was tall for her age, yet it would not be for another five or so years before she would hit a true growth spurt and then she would not reach her full height and maturity until fifteen or sixteen. Her smile was as golden as her hair which almost seemed to glow and infuse the room with energy.

Aella gave a soft cough and repeated her morning salutation. Embarrassed at being caught in the act of gaping, Selah quickly sat up and scurried out of bed trying to perform the proper curtsy that she had been coached to do throughout the past week. In her haste, the covers tangled around her legs, and she fell to the floor in a heap of legs and arms and blankets at the feet of Princess Aella. Aella's laughter, like the tinkling of little bells, filled the room, which caused Selah to wish she could melt into the floor. Selah's lip began to quiver as she felt the shame of yet another failure wash over her. Aella's voice reflected her laughter as she tried to help Selah out of the blankets, only to become entangled as well. Aella lost her balance and toppled into the already rumpled pile of blankets, and both girls broke into delighted giggles; the beginning of a close friendship was formed.

*****

Years passed and Selah adapted and melded into life at Castle Mao. Much to her chagrin, she would still get lost in the many passages of the castle, which never helped that King Heylel had almost a continuous stream of work projects both within and without the castle walls. New walls were built up and old walls torn down; buildings would be demolished, and new ones created: all in the quest to become the epitome of perfection. The gray stone of the castle walls had been covered by a bright pure white stone recently discovered in the distant mountains of Gihon in the farthest western territories of Havilah. Many people began to refer to King Heylel as The Morning Star, the king who brought Havilah into its Golden Age, therefore, Castle Mao was thought to be the center of prosperity within the kingdom.

King Heylel was a perfect archetype of a Morning Star. His persona dominated the room as soon as he entered. It was not just his handsome golden looks but also his personality which drew people to him creating a desire to want to please this Adonis-like man. His golden allure was intensified by his wardrobe which would most often be comprised of whites, creams, and golds. These attributes contributed to his overall persona which reinforced his title as the Morning Star. His bright and easy smile would assuage the most disgruntled of people, yet he could quickly transform from a lighthearted jest to a firm command which people would fear to oppose. When this transformation occurred, his countenance would become like marble and dread would consume the recipient of the harsh words and cold look. As easily as his countenance would change from bright to dark, the storm would pass, and his lighthearted demeanor would return and shine upon the court as the sun after a rain shower. The courtiers would then press in to absorb the radiance of their great king on the slight chance of perhaps receiving a moment of his attention.

At his side was the radiant beauty of his glorious wife, Queen Hekaba. Her beauty surpassed any within the kingdom. Her face exhibited a classic beauty which could not have been chiseled more perfectly by the hand of the most gifted sculptor. Though she was Yurogumi, most of her features looked Havilian in nature. Her complexion was a shade lighter than the Havilians but golden like the sun had kissed her and left some of its essence behind. Her eyes were more almond shaped and almost exotic looking to Selah. Hekaba's face didn't have the classic Havilian broad and strong structure, though there was no question about her strength. But the most distinctive of all was her Yurogumi tribal markings. These markings only enhanced her beauty rather than detracted from it. They were not born with them but when they came of age, the markings would materialize and become more defined as they matured. She had five golden circles symmetrically across her forehead with the largest in the center and the smallest set ending right above the temple. At the temple began a spiraled line that followed the curve of her face continuing under her jaw to join and reappear at her chin ending at her lower lip. Her hair, also a golden blonde and as soft as corn silk, would cascade in curling waves around her face and shoulders.

She, as her husband, would often be attired in whites, creams, and golds, which would cause her to radiate and glisten as brightly as the sun. Her dresses were a unique design that Selah had never seen before. It was a mixture of silk and gold thread over a gossamer white material. Fine threads of gold spread over her bodice and across the inset below her waist, which to Selah sometimes looked like an intricate web glistening in the morning sunlight. The dress was tight across her hips then flowed out to swirl around her legs. Her smile was just as bright as her attire, though only a selected few would ever be graced with this precious treasure. As much as Selah had tried, she could never seem to be on the receiving end of Queen Hekaba's good will.

The royal family all exhibited the golden looks and perfection which is expected of royalty; they had an impeccable countenance and flawless demeanor. Each of them fit perfectly within the untainted archetype of King Heylel's goal to create a utopian society within the kingdom of Havilah. During the span of his reign, King Heylel had poured great resources into developing the perfect Utopia and had been rather successful in achieving it.

In her eleventh year, it was time to begin the differential learning. She had hoped to pursue the military arts that they had told her that her father had excelled, and Aella had already begun to practice. She could vividly recall the day that Uncle Heylel had walked up to her as she was leaning against the wall watching the archery practice. He had tousled her hair and asked, what are you doing here, little Mouse?

I don't want to miss any of the practice so that I can be ready when I join the military arts.

Heylel started laughing. "Little Mouse, you would be crushed during your first practice with your peers much less facing off against mature warriors. You are so small you probably couldn't even lift a training sword nor properly draw a bowstring. You are too fragile and could not protect anything, not even yourself but instead, you are the one who needs to be protected. He did not seem to notice the dejected look on Selah's face as he continued watching the archers practice I have been thinking and a much better position for you to pursue would be in the healing arts. It is as vital as the military arts, and it would suit your tiny stature." He chucked her under the chin and tousled her hair before walking away. The rest of that day Selah remained in her room unable to stop crying at the disappointment that continued to roll over her in waves. In the following days, she was introduced to Mistress Azatha the Royal Healer, and even though she balked at the idea, she could find no way out of her predicament. Selah began her training immediately and soon spent much of her time with Mistress Azatha, whether she liked it or not.

Sporadically, Selah had seen Mistress Azatha working throughout the village of Mao but had never had the occasion to speak with her. Selah tended to separate herself from villagers and especially those who did not fall into the typical Havilian archetype. Mistress Azatha had a slender frame and darker looks than most of the people of the kingdom. Her hair was lavender in color with streaks of dark brown through it which reflected her personality, both of which caused her to stand out since she was boisterous and carefree rather than exhibiting the proper behavior that propriety called for. Initially, Selah dreaded having to spend time with Azatha and could not find it within herself to show respect to this woman because she absolutely did not want to be associated with her. Deep down she felt that this was a punishment for her inadequacies and failing to meet the Havilian standards herself.

She had begun to despise her unique looks and petite stature because it continued to separate her so distinctly from everyone else. Throughout her earlier years, it had been an underlying issue since everyone always mistook her for a younger child. Her friendship with Aella had provided a subtle form of protection from the teasing and bullying of the other children because Aella considered her to be a younger sister and wouldn't let even one mean word be spoken toward her. When Aella had reached her growth spurt, things began to change as she morphed from the frolicsome, carefree behavior of childhood into adolescence. Selah had felt a twinge of melancholy more and more frequently over the last year since Aella had preferred to spend time with her training comrades rather than idle time with a child. Tears inadvertently sprung to her eyes as she remembered being brushed aside by Aella on multiple occasions. Her only hope to save her friendship and fitting in was through her own involvement in the military arts, but Uncle Heylel had dashed those hopes so nonchalantly earlier this week. Despair and self-loathing rose within her as she trudged outside of the castle walls and through the village toward Mistress Azatha's small stone cottage. With a sigh, she realized she deserved to be assigned to work with another outcast within the village. Why should Uncle Heylel place a quality Havilian with Mistress Azatha, the village pariah, when Selah herself would never fit into the ultimate Havilian stereotype?

With unveiled animosity, Selah entered Mistress Azatha's tutelage. Her first lessons were strictly learning names and identification of basic ingredients especially those needed to make antidotes to poisons, potions, and venoms. Selah had scoffed at Azatha for being such a fuddy-duddy and making her rehearse the portions and ingredients over and over. She quickly became frustrated as Azatha would not allow her to touch any of the ingredients until she had passed her tests. As she started to share her meals with Azatha, she quickly noticed that she would feel ill after eating, which further caused her to loath her training and constantly belittle Azatha's simple fare. Singing in an ancient and almost forgotten tongue, Azatha would continue working ignoring Selah's sardonic jibes.

After many months, she was able to meet with Uncle Heylel and complain about Azatha's teaching style, her ineptitude and inappropriate attitude and how since she had begun taking lessons and eating with her, she was always feeling ill. Uncle Heylel's eyes had darkened, and his mouth tightened as he heard her last complaint. The next day, he had suggested that she take the morning to enjoy a ride, since he had noticed that Cael, her steed, needed to be exercised. As she set off on Cael, she watched Uncle Heylel striding angrily toward Azatha's cottage. With a smug smile on her face, she put Cael through his paces, and, eventually, gave him free rein to gallop through the meadows. Selah was anticipating Azatha's admonished and contrite attitude when she returned, perhaps she would even be transferred to another teacher, or better yet, into a different training regimen. She could only hope that it would be military training. When she returned from her ride, her jaw dropped as she saw Uncle Heylel talking amiably with Azatha. She quickly returned Cael to the stables and scurried off to meet Uncle Heylel on his way back to the castle.

Well…what happened? She questioned him with no proper salutations or propriety. Heylel arched one of his perfectly shaped golden eyebrows and his mouth curved into a scowl. At which time, Selah realized the error in her ways and dropped into a deep bow. I'm sorry, Uncle Heylel, it is just that working with her is sooo abhorrent and…

Heylel had continued on his way, and Selah had to jog to keep his pace. "I am not going to talk to you about this, Mouse. I have made up my mind. This is the best place for you so no matter how much you try, I will not let you train in the military. You are best suited for this position, and that is my final decision. As for Azatha's training techniques, they may be rather…unconventional…but I understand her reasoning and that is enough for me."

But… Selah's voice trailed off as she realized this was a moot point with her uncle. She stopped walking and stood alone and dejected in the middle of the street until she was jostled out of her stupor by a passing villager. Shoulders sagging, she turned and headed in the direction of Azatha's cottage. By the time she had reached it, Selah had once again pulled herself together and boldly knocked on the door before entering, though she did not wait for permission.

Did they not teach you manners in the castle, girl? commented Azatha from the corner of the room as she was hunched over a table crushing one of her precious ingredients. She cocked her head and gave Selah a questioning look when she received no response.

Hmph was the only retort that Selah deemed necessary, as she stalked over to the table and slumped down on one of her stools.

"Tsk, tsk…the attitude…doesn't seem quite appropriate coming from a princess." Again, Azatha cocked her head, peering at Selah from her honey-brown eyes, seemingly piercing her soul. Azatha's keen perception noticed when Selah flinched at the word princess and Azatha had an implication to the root of her protégé's issues.

Abruptly, Selah slammed her hand upon the table, causing items to rattle. "Azatha, I am not the princess, Aella is. I am not able to train in the military forces so I will be stuck being your apprentice. I don't appreciate your comments and will not put up with such insubordination from the likes of you." Her voice had steadily risen in volume and the silence that filled the room seemed to be more deafening than the outburst only moments before.

Azatha sat quietly, gazing unblinkingly at Selah, allowing silence to envelop them. Selah stared into Azatha's pale yellow-brown eyes, noticing for the first time the unusual coloration—only slightly lighter than most Havilians but the golden flecks made them truly distinct. She felt like she was slowly sinking into some form of trance and pulled her gaze away from Azatha's. A shiver crept up her spine and Selah imagined that Azatha had been able to literally see to the depths of her soul. The moment was broken when Azatha's voice with a hardened edge spilled into the room And what will you do, Miss Selah? Going to your Uncle Heylel didn't seem to work, now did it? Azatha let out a hoot of laughter as she saw the blush creep up Selah's neck and cheeks. Tears of frustration and humiliation sprang to Selah's eyes as even the riffraff mocked her.

I hate you, you pointy eared freak! Selah screamed at her. Knocking the stool over as she sprang to her feet, she ran from the cottage hating Azatha but hating herself more. Selah's skirt caught on a nail, tugging at it, she wrenched it free tearing it in the process. She ran haphazardly through the village; her sight blurred yet again by those tears that had seemed to come unceasingly over the last week. Bursting through her bedroom door, she slammed and locked it before collapsing in a heap on the floor. She cried herself to sleep where she lay, not even having the energy to pull herself onto the bed.

Selah awoke in the predawn hours chilled to the bone and without energy, even after more than a normal night's sleep. Her body was stiff and sore from sleeping in an unnatural position upon the floor and her eyes were swollen and scratchy. Slowly, she sat up and began to rise, hobbling as she went because her foot had lost feeling from the way she had been lying. She grumbled under her breath, wanting desperately to blame this upon Azatha but knowing that it was her own fault. She didn't want to, but she knew that she would have to face her mentor and apologize for her outburst yesterday if she wanted any hope of peace within her apprenticeship. Selah crawled into bed and huddled under the blankets hoping to warm up. With teeth chattering, she lay in her bed tossing back and forth between asking forgiveness and pretending nothing had happened. She knew what she had to do but didn't want to face the humiliation of actually apologizing to her mentor. The chill slowly subsided and the darkness of night receded into morning. Sleep not forthcoming, Selah tossed the blankets aside and slid out of bed. With determination, she quickly got dressed and headed to Azatha's to speak with her before she lost her nerve.

Selah hesitantly knocked on the cottage door, with her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She felt like she was going to be physically ill and had taken a step backward away from the door when it suddenly opened. Azatha stood stoically in the doorway, her gaze piercing Selah's very heart. A lump had lodged in her throat, and she kept swallowing as no words would escape past the obstacle. Azatha's steady stare did not help her in the least. When Selah tried to speak, only a squeak escaped past the lump clogging her throat. The healer's hard look softened slightly around the edges as she watched the young girl struggling for words. Selah cleared her throat and tried again; this time her voice came barely above a whisper. After a torturously long time, Selah was eventually able to emit a contrite apology which Azatha graciously accepted with a nod and brusquely stepped aside so that Selah could finally enter her domain.

After that day, they created an unspoken truce and Selah and Azatha fell into an uneasy working relationship. As time passed, it became necessary for Selah to spend long hours late into the night working on extremely intricate poultices or antidotes. On those occasions, she was given permission to stay the night with Mistress Azatha. Working continuously under close quarters, their initial dislike slowly transformed into a mutual respect then after a couple years it gradually blossomed into a close friendship. Selah had a natural ability for identifying herbs and mixing antidotes. After three years of training, Azatha felt it was time for Selah to begin to travel with her on her periodic journeys throughout Havilah to collect rare ingredients and check in on the other healers who were strategically placed throughout the kingdom in areas that were more densely populated.

The night before her first trip, she could barely sleep since she had never traveled beyond Lake Kariva. Aella had exhibited remarkable prowess in the military arts and had been promoted to the king's elite policing force, allowing her to travel about the kingdom regularly fulfilling various royal duties. She would often complain that such a mundane task of escorting the Royal Healer throughout the kingdom should be given to less skilled soldiers. Aella scoffed that it seemed to be more of a babysitting position than an actual mission for the king's elite guard, but admitted that if Selah could join, it would not be so tiresome. Finally, that day had arrived. Now she could see for herself the majestic sites within this great kingdom. She tossed and turned all night imagining what the mountains of Gihon would look like up close and what Aella meant by an ocean. Though she had tried to put it into words, Selah just could not imagine water that was not enclosed by land. A trickle of dread danced along her spine as she thought about seeing the Forbidden Eyther Ilnamy, or perhaps having to enter it to replenish their supplies along the journey. Mistress Azatha has said that she had received special permission from Uncle Heylel to be able to enter just the fringes of the forest to search for supplies that could be collected nowhere else. Few others wanted or even dared to enter this mysterious and forbidden forest. It had been deemed too dangerous since people who entered often became lost or never returned so King Heylel had proclaimed it off limits. He was even talking about creating a wall along the northern border of Havilah for protection against the forest and ever encroaching bandits.

Selah fell into a fitful sleep and woke the next morning filled with excitement though not fully rested for the long journey before her. Her bag had been packed and sent to the stables the previous evening so that they could expedite the start to the day. Mistress Azatha had been allowed to use one of the spare horses since her blind donkey, Rupinder, seemed to impede the journey more than help. Azatha chortled as she commented something about looks are deceiving, shooting a weary glance at the handsome steed bridled before her then peering longingly at her donkey penned up behind her cottage braying dismally at being left behind.

Aella had received a recent promotion, and this was going to be her first assignment as commander. She was no nonsense as their troop of ten guards and the two healers set off with two pack horses carrying supplies and food. The group traveled quickly through the landscape; Selah gawking at each new thing she discovered whether it was a flower or a tree. Azatha exhibited extreme patience with her protégé, quietly impressed with her aptitude for identifying new plants even from a distance. The rest of the group, who had no interest in insignificant things such as flowers, would roll their eyes and chuckle condescendingly under their breaths. Aella would periodically comment throughout the beginning of the journey, but soon was embarrassed by Selah's prolonged exuberance in front of the soldiers. Before long, she would occasionally throw in a derisive remark at Selah as well. Only with Aella's ridicule was Selah's good mood tempered and she fell into a despondent silence. Azatha watched the interchange with astute perception continuing to understand some of the deeper facets of Selah's personality.

Aella let them rest briefly for lunch to water the horses and relieve themselves, but Selah used the time to discreetly collect samples of the herbs and flowers that did not grow in the area surrounding Castle Mao. Under Azatha's tutelage, she scribbled down the different names and uses for some of the plant samples, but also gathered ones that Azatha knew little about, as Selah had recently started exhibiting the ability to experiment and devise new and better treatments. All too soon, they had packed up and continued their journey. Much of Selah's first excursion was mostly uneventful though thoroughly educational. Aella would not allow them to travel near the forbidden forest since she claimed that it was too dangerous and Selah too inexperienced to take the risk.

As they passed the northern pass in the Gihon Mountains, they were set upon by bandits. Aella sent Jarl, her second in command, and three others to lead Selah and Azatha to safety as the six remaining guards killed or wounded the unkempt and shoddily dressed bandits. Selah turned around to watch in horror at the ensuing foray since she had never experienced an actual battle. She was impressed to witness the efficiency and great ability of the Havilian soldiers, especially when faced with clumsy, maladroit riffraff. Selah felt a twinge of compassion for those bandits watching as the soldiers easily dispatched them even though they were outnumbered.

This experience continued to torment her as she thought about the injured men even after she returned to the safety of Castle Mao which drew her into the first of many interesting conversations with Uncle Heylel. She had been tormented once again with a dream…what was that dream? Ah, yes, she had started to have another reoccurring dream…

Selah was wandering through the forest, an old untouched forest, such as those she had seen on the northern border of Havilah. As she walked through the forest, her footsteps were cushioned by the deep, decomposing debris of autumns past and the leaves creating a soft blanket. She looked up but couldn't determine the time, because the sky could not be seen through the denseness of the canopy. The wind whispered through the treetops, but their secrets were kept from the rest of the forest as all else was silent. Selah was searching for something, and she felt the urgency of the situation, knowing that the object of her quest was near, yet no matter how hard she searched, she could not find it. Continuing to scrutinize her surroundings, a new sound interrupted the peace of the forest. She paused in her search to discover the source of the noise. Perusing the area, her heart jumped into her throat when she identified troops marching toward her. Her heart raced as she realized that they were not the military forces of Havilah but an army unfamiliar to her; they were larger than the greatest warrior she had ever seen. As she stood frozen in fear, another sound caught her attention; much to her dismay, another unit of soldiers was arriving from the opposite direction. They were attired differently, and their standards indicated this was an army from across the sea. Selah eventually regained the ability to move and stepped back into the foliage cover, deftly blending into the underbrush.

Her mind was racing. What were they doing here in Havilah? Did Uncle Heylel know they were here? She was so far away from Mao; how could she quickly get word back to the king?

The hair on her neck and arms rose as the armies converged and changed directions. They were heading toward her, toward the main path that led directly to Castle Mao. There was no murmuring, no talking, only the steady cadence of the marching army as they continued to head in her direction. Even as she feared these troops, she had to respect them, for she had never seen such well-maintained and unified forces. Unfortunately, even King Heylel's elite troops were not as superbly focused as these two foreboding armies…

Heylel had discovered Selah once again on the ramparts overlooking the kingdom; she could not seem to free herself from the ominous feelings created by this reoccurring dream. She had been standing in the chill of the early morning air, staring out over the landscape, searching the distant horizon, afraid that she would see these vast armies approaching. She had been so encompassed in her study of the view that she was not immediately aware of Lord Heylel's presence.

His soft voice broke the silence of the predawn as he commented You are up early this morning, little Mouse, causing Selah to jump startled out of her scrutiny of the Havilian landscape. Lord Heylel found humor in her squeal of surprise as she took a few deep breaths to calm her startled nerves.

Well…I…you see… Her thoughts had seemed to escape her as she stood looking and sounding as though she was guilty of some wrongdoing. Lord Heylel, are the people of Havilah happy? Selah cringed. Where did that come from?

The twinkle of humor vanished from his eyes and his mouth turned down slightly as he grasped the meaning of her words. "Is this nonsense what keeps you from sleeping on this brisk morning? Do the people not look happy? Do they know what true happiness is?"

Selah quickly ducked her head as shame washed over her. Of all the people in the castle, she hated to upset or disappoint Heylel. He had taken her in when her family had been killed and had treated her as his own child. Why had she asked that question? Where had it come from? She hadn't even been thinking about the happiness of the people. I… she stammered as she tried to look up at him through her thick dark lashes, I…I'm sorry…I just keep having these dreams about armies invading Havilah and I am worried about… Her voice faded into a whisper as she felt foolish standing on the parapet in the early morning fearing dreams.

As she cautioned another glance at Lord Heylel, she was pleasantly surprised and chagrined to see that his anger had been transformed into laughter. He threw back his head and a loud burst of laughter filled the morning air. Little Mouse, no childish dream should cause fear to enter into your mind! Look around at the prosperity of Havilah. Since my reign began, this land has seen nothing but peace and success! I have set into motion an efficient well-oiled machine where no one hungers or lacks for anything. In prior reigns, all would toil independently for their own well-being, and most would eke out a pathetic existence barely having enough to feed their own family much less have extra to sell. I saw the error of this life and implemented a greater economy where people are diversified according to their personal skills and talents. Now, we only need a few skilled workers managing the croplands until the time of sowing and harvesting arrives. Other workers are brought in for these times of additional work so that the crops of the kingdom can be collected by the stewards and dispersed equally among the hard-working people of Havilah. No one fears not having food or protection or healers for their everyday living. Look around Castle Mao and you can see the beauty and prosperity overflowing from its walls. You should cherish all that surrounds you and all that I have accomplished within my reign. I could not have offered you all that you have experienced had it not been for the productivity of my rule. He paused in his discourse, squinting his eyes as he looked piercingly at her, Heylel questioned, "Mouse, are you unhappy here?"

Selah gasped, quickly followed by a vehement No! before she could calm down and respond to him more respectfully. Uncle Heylel, I love it here and appreciate all that you have offered me and how you have cared for me. I've just been concerned lately with these dreams plaguing me and I've only recently started to venture outside of the castle walls with Mistress Azatha. There are just many new things I'm encountering and… she let her thoughts trail off as she was still unsure what she was thinking and feeling.

The last tendrils of the dream were still lingering within her mind, and she could not seem to shake the fear it had created. Something continued to nag at the edges of her mind, and she could not seem to free herself from the feelings of her searching, desiring something that she had yet to place her finger upon. With a deep breath and a slightly tremulous voice, Selah decided to continue the conversation with him. "Is it possible for Havilah to be invaded? And who are the bandits?

Little Mouse, we have the best military, and I have a constant watch, so you do not need to fear an invasion. My lookouts would inform me well before any forces could even step foot into this kingdom. As for the bandits, you have seen firsthand that they are no threat to our elite forces. They are rebels, riffraff, firebrands. People, who even when offered a part in the Golden Age of Havilah, were discontent and rejected it. So now, they are not content to just be separated from us, but they spend their time hurting innocents and causing havoc along the borders. Loathing and disgust dripped from his words as he spoke.

Selah continued her questions as more and more rose to her mind. What…what about the stories that the villagers whisper about? They speak of strange creatures and powerful beings…what…what of them?

King Heylel's response was not at all what Selah had expected as she braced herself for the brunt of his anger, but it never came. Instead, Heylel burst into laughter again, and he patted her condescendingly upon the head. Little Mouse, are you actually falling for the foolishness of these uneducated people? They know nothing about the real world so they must create these fanciful tales to help them to cope with things in nature they do not understand. Still chuckling, he began to question her, So what have you been hearing?

"Well…some speak of something called Ehyeh and others talk of…of—Selah was almost afraid to say the words as a flush crept up her neck and cheeks in embarrassment of what she was about to say—dragons and other creatures that I cannot remember the names to." She wanted to melt into the floor. Why had she brought these things up in this conversation? Why was she even having this conversation with King Heylel on this chilly morning? Why did she constantly question and could never be satisfied with a simple explanation? Was this some sort of flaw within her character that she could not easily accept the information that was given to her unless she thoroughly explored all possible circumstances and came to the conclusion herself?

"Sweet little Mouse, so curious and so gullible. These are old stories, myths, told to children to keep them in line and to answer questions that people did not know the answers to. Do not fall for their superstitions! These are directly connected to the old ideas which kept this kingdom from entering its present age of prosperity. If people continue to cling to the archaic ideas of the past, they will never move into the new age of success. It has only been since I have forbidden the teaching of these archaic philosophies that we have been able to teach the truth to the young children and helped them to further develop their skills and train them for the betterment of the kingdom.

"As for this Ehyeh, posh! Nonsense! Once again, people will create