Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of The Sacred Child
Collections:
Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
Stats:
Published:
2020-11-04
Completed:
2005-05-19
Words:
42,591
Chapters:
16/16
Comments:
1
Kudos:
23
Hits:
4,709

The Sacred Child: Book 1

Summary:

My own original, epic, mini fantasy trilogy. This is my version of a sword-and-sorcery, adventure, battle-of-good-and-evil story. Anything else I said would either sound lame or ruin the story. Get reading if you want to know

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Notes: All the amazing horror/fantasy/sci-fi writers I grew up reading are hereby acknowledged. Isaac Asimov to Timothy Zahn. Writers must first read, so thanks to all of them.

**********************************************************************

Prologue:

"Could you possibly have chosen a worse place for this, Murell? I don't believe this one will fall on our heads quite quick enough."

The black-garbed leader of the four-man group turned his eyes briefly to his companion before continuing to push through the dust, cobwebs and rubble that partially blocked the corridor ahead of them.

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, James. The writings specify an abbey that has lain unused for a century, and that is what this is. It is also convenient to... other things I will soon require."

"Such as?"

"You will know when it is time."

"I hate it when you get enigmatic. It scares me."

Now, Murell halted, whirling on his talkative follower and throwing his hood back to expose his flame red hair, loose and wild, and jet-black eyes.

"Does it scare you as much as the thought of what I will do to you if you don't close that troublesome mouth of yours and start taking this ceremony seriously? If you wish to withdraw your participation, all you need do is tell me. I'll have to get a replacement, of course, but, somehow, I think killing you would be worth it."

James stumbled backwards, away from Murell, until he fell on a pile of stone and crashed to the floor, driving the air from his body for several seconds.

"Pick him up, Alexsandar. Drag him if necessary."

"Yes, Murell."

Soon, the group found themselves at a dead end where blocks, and pieces of blocks, reached to the ceiling.

"This is it."

"What? All I see is a bunch of rock and no way around it."

"There are doors behind these stones and we're going to find them."

"We can't lift all this. It'll take weeks."

"It can be done in hours. I will make the stones a little lighter and help to clear them away."

"Every time I think about some of the magic I've seen you do, I shiver."

"You are right to do so, Nash. Power brings with it great responsibility, as you are soon to discover. If we don't get this entrance open, however, this whole journey will have been for nothing, so we'd better get to work."

Several hours later, a little before sunset, the four men finally walked through the doors Murell had spoken of. Though the other three were exhausted, Murell ignored their fatigue, knowing that time was of the essence.

"Do you want this to occur or not? I am sacrificing a piece of my power for each of you. Show that you appreciate it! You can sleep after we've finished. Stand!"

Reluctantly, his companions complied.

"Once I have prepared, I will call each one of you by name. You will step forward with your hands out, palms up. I will then complete the process. The pain will be great, but what you will gain for your suffering will be far greater."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Perched on top of the hill at Lonar, Karae Siaan watched the valley below move uneasily into the suffocating heat of high summer. Slowly, she tipped back her head, stretching her neck and allowing her dark hair a brief respite from the considerable moisture that had collected under her ponytail.

Soon, Karae shifted position a second time, moving to lie on her stomach, facing the valley over the brow of the hill. She drew a deep, cleansing breath and surveyed the vast expanse of green that led beyond the horizon, wondering, not for the first time in recent months, why she had not yet found the initiative to simply leave, and venture into that verdant world on her own.

In the past few weeks, she had spent much more time here than at home, to the increasing displeasure of her father. Lonar was the only place Karae had to be at peace with her thoughts. Her father's attempts to transform his daughter, the poet, into his son, the warrior, never ceased, and her mother, being in the final stages of pregnancy, was becoming more irritable and uncomfortable every day and seemed to find relief in making Karae miserable. The more they pulled and tugged her in different directions, the more desperate she became to spend her time here, on this hill; the silence taking the ringing from her ears, the drifting clouds washing the worries from her mind.

From the moment she had learned of the impending birth, every prayer Karate sent to the heavens had contained a request that the child be a boy. She realized that the birth of a male heir was the only solution to both her problems. It would certainly re-focus her father's energies while, at the same time, completing the pregnancy; making her mother much easier to live with. Her fondest wish, to be left to her own devices, might finally come true.

1

**************

"Karae! Where the deuce is that child when I want her? Her fencing instructor arrives and she's gone in a puff of smoke, like a blasted magician! If I ever find out where she goes, she'll wish she hadn't! Karae!"

"Here, father."

Karae had rushed in, breathless and covered with dust, just in time to hear her father raging about the halls looking for her.

"Your lesson started an hour ago, young lady. Where the devil have you been?"

"Well, I...."

She faltered as her father reached out to touch the blue dust coating her dress. Too late, Karae realized that he knew as well as she did the only spot within one hundred miles where the dust could be found.

"Lonar. You've been out at Lonar. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Staring directly into her father's smug smile, Karae replied.

"I'll have to find another hiding place I suppose."

Only good reflexes, quick feet and a great deal of luck saved Karae from a severe blow from the back of her father's hand. After losing his pursuit in the twist and turns of the hallways, she decided to risk a visit to her mother. She found her engaged in one of her least favorite activities; knitting.

"May I come in?"

"If it's really necessary. It's much too hot to do any more of this at any rate. If I don't finish these booties, the child will simply have.... cold feet, so to speak. I assume your father found you?"

"Yes."

Karae added a disgusted look to a similar tone of voice.

"I thought so. The screaming ended ages ago. He has a point you know. You can be extremely neglectful of your responsibilities."

"You can't agree with him!?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Our position demands certain things, even from you."

"We have no position and you know it as well as I do. Father was made a minor count in recognition for doing something anyone could have done."

"He saved the king's life."

"That's exactly what I said."

"Sarcasm is unbecoming to a young lady."

"At least you admit I'm female. The truth is, I'm getting very tired of my father's attempts to change my gender."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Even you must see what he's trying to do. He arranges for jousting lessons, fencing lessons, a riding tutor; it's as if he thinks that treating me like a boy will somehow make me one."

"You know that just isn't true. Many young ladies learn to ride at your age."

"In full armor?"

"You can't really fault him, dear. He's a man and all men want an heir to carry on the family name and traditions."

"Well, until that baby is born, I'm all he has, so he'd better start treating me more like Guenivere than Lancelot or the fights around here are bound to get much, much worse!"

Karae stormed out of her mother's suite to find peace in the only room in the house she truly called her own.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Karae knelt on the bench by her bedroom window and gazed beyond the horizon and the fiery sunset to a point known only to her. On her face was the look her mother called dreamer's eye and her father had christened "Damn. We've lost her again."

She had chosen this room specifically because it was as far from everything else in the house as possible, and she had reached an age where solitude had become a major consideration in her life. It became so when she realized she wasn't getting any.

A pad of paper resting in her lap, she began to take the images of her private world and put them into words. As her thoughts flowed onto the page, the tension of the day, and of the past few weeks, began to loosen its hold on her neck, back and shoulders. For the first time in a long while, she felt as if she might actually survive until the baby made its appearance.

Karae was brought out of her reverie with shocking abruptness when her mother rapped on the door to call her to dinner. This had the effect of a sudden loss of balance on Karae, and if not for her grip on the window ledge, she would have tumbled off the bench backwards. As it was, she narrowly averted an embarrassment of great proportion.

"Karae. Answer me at once. Are you coming to dinner or aren't you?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Karae shot back irritably, ashamed for allowing herself to get so lost in her own world that she ignored what was going on around her.

"You needn't speak to me like that, young lady!"

Karae untangled her legs and hurried after her mother.

"Wait. Please." Karae panted as she caught up with her, "I didn't mean to sound disrespectful. I was thinking. Anyone who had knocked at that particular moment would have gotten the same answer."

"I'll take comfort in that. You'll most likely be relieved to know that your father has been called away, so you and I will be dining alone this evening."

"You make it sound as if I detest him. I don't. I only wish he could see me as what I am, instead of what he wishes I had been born as."

"I understand and I see your point dear, but swaying him to your cause will be extremely difficult if not impossible."

"Give me a little time mother. I have a few ideas I haven't tried yet. One of them has to work."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You have been here many times before. Yet in none of those visits could you find the courage to speak your desires. This will be your final opportunity. After tonight, you will not be allowed to return. You must say now what your heart has needed all the years of your life, or go."

"My heart, my mind and my soul... cry out that I must have a son."

"Yes. At last you speak truth, Laras Siann. At last, you find the strength within you to simply ask for what you want."

"I will do more than ask and you know it. You told me that you had the power to grant me anything if I wanted it badly enough. I'll beg if that's what you require to give me my son."

"If you gaze deep enough into that mass of darkness and confusion you have designated a soul, you will know what it is we require."

"I have made it clear that I will sacrifice all I own and all I am for your assurance that my wife will give birth to my heir."

"You offer only what we already possess. We desire what it will cause you the most anguish to give up. All we ask is an even trade."

"You ask for what is not mine to give."

"This is true. Your daughter belongs here now, and she will be brought to us whether or not your heart's desire is fulfilled."

"You cannot."

"It is finished. It was finished the moment you stepped through the door to this room."

Laras stared blankly into the darkness for a moment, understanding of what he had done washing over him. Slowly, he dropped his chin to his chest and straightened tightly fisted hands.

"Shall we close the deal, then?"