The Altethlon Chronicles: The Queen's Hero and the Ubion Princess

By Zee Gorman

Young Princess Ximia did not want a life predestined by her heritage. She was torn between a thirst for adventures in the post-apocalyptic world of Altethlon and the role expected of her in the rigid culture of her kingdom. The politics of her time was delicate and her choices were limited. Just as she thought she found her destiny, a strange encounter turned her life upside down ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zee Gorman
• Release date: Aug 1, 2010
• ISBN: 9781465841384

Zee Gorman

Zee Gorman was born and raised in Southern China. Her love for fiction began at a very young age. By the time she started high school, she had read every single novel from the neighborhood novel rental. She then proceeded to seek out every foreign novel she could lay her hands on. She went on to College to study English and later took a career in teaching. Her passion for language and literature eventually led her into writing. She has written short stories, poems, and essays, and is mildly published in China. When she came to United States to further advance her education, she discovered the magical power of an entirely different kind of language - the computer language. That led her into a life-long career in information technology. And yet the writing bug has never left her ...Today, Zee Gorman lives in Northern California with her husband and her daughter. She is and will continue to be an IT manager by day and a fantasy fiction writer by night.

Book preview

The Altethlon Chronicles

Book One

The Queen’s Hero and the Ubion Princess

by

Zee Gorman

*******

Published in the USA with consent from Zee Gorman

Date of first USA publication July 2010

Copyright © Zee Gorman 2010

The right of Zee Gorman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, places and incidents, other than those which are public domain, are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade of otherwise, be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated or transmitted without the author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

This Edition published in the United States September 2011.

ISBN 1452878919

EAN-13 9781452878911

*******

CHAPTER 1

It was before dawn in the city of Sweriek. A thick layer of fog had set in, hugging the moist ground and the dense foliage of this hidden valley in the depths of the cursed Crypchia forest. It would be another candlestick or two before the sun would begin her brief daily trip over this not-so-favored part of her world.

Princess Ximia was up early. She stood in the center of a large wooded courtyard adjacent to a two-story red brick mansion, her right hand holding a practice wand and her green eyes gazing at the puppet ten paces ahead. The blanket of gathering fog dampened her skin and clung to her long black hair. In the pale pre-dawn light, the walls of the courtyard seemed to have receded behind the still and opaque air.

Practice, I must practice! She raised her wand above her head and forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, but the tranquility of her surroundings tempted it to wander. Suddenly a familiar word knocked on the door of her mind and all other thoughts stopped in their respective courses and converged around it: Nikolas. The name made its forceful entrance into her world and lingered. Like any obsession, there was no point to this one and yet she had no control over it. Inopportunely, the voice in her head started to tell the story for the hundredth time.

His name was Nikolas. Legend said he was half Northlander, quarter Titan and quarter Jungle Elf. It was said that his parents were banished to the frozen continent of Vokkosh by Queen Isolda and they died early. He grew up among glacier bears, snow leopards, and mountain apes.

What would it be like to be surrounded by eye-blinding bone-chilling ice and snow all year round? What would it be like to be the son of a condemned family?

Ximia shivered at those thoughts. Her wand sprang out of her hand, bouncing freely on the coarse ground towards a wide seam between two bricks. She instinctively rushed over to recover it, stumbling as the tip of her left boot caught in the raised edge of a broken brick. Just as the voice in her head was about to embark on the next section of the story, she felt a tingling burn on the back of her neck – someone was watching her from the woods.

Zorbix, her great uncle and Sorcery instructor, materialized from behind the fog. She recovered her sense of reality and quickly resumed her casting position. She fired a bolt at the puppet across the practice range. It fizzled. She immediately uttered another chant and drew her wand again.

Halt! Zorbix stopped her, his voice loud and sharp, breaking the calmness of it all. The short white-haired man walked towards her on his age-worn ironwood staff and his one leg. Ximia froze in mid-cast. She was not afraid of Zorbix’s rage. In fact, if she were Zorbix, she would probably be slapping herself just about now.

Stance, gaze, mind! he jerked her shoulders and head straight and spoke with the duress of a strong thin man, and focus!

Focus? That was something that had always escaped her. It was easier said than done. How would she know if she was focused? Would a signal flash in front of her eyes? Or would a voice tell her when she was properly focused? She wished she had a clue.

She took a deep breath, aimed her wand, and fired another bolt. It was more like a flaring candlelight. It danced out of her slender fingers, flew for not more than five paces, and distinguished itself with a gloriously tiny burst. She could hear it cry in its tiny voice: Save me!

She threw the wand away. She hated Sorcery! She really hated Sorcery! It was invented with a sole purpose: to mock her, to mock her inability to, what’s word? Yes, focus. And she hated the word focus. The word was invented to show how helpless she was. She had been trying to cast a fire bolt for half a season and she had failed.

She pretended to have accidentally dropped the wand. She pretended that she did not almost burst into a screaming rage and run out of the courtyard. She walked across the practice range, picked up the wand, and walked back towards Zorbix, her eyes avoiding his. Zorbix was watching her like a hawk. He could tell that she was on the verge of tears. What is wrong with this child?

You concentrate, you channel and then you cast. Now how hard can that be?

I don’t know, she murmured.

You don’t know? Is that the best answer you can offer? Zorbix raised his voice, Ximia, child, you are not getting anywhere without some hard work. Nobody is born with this stuff. You need to work it, work it more, and you need to want to work it! Your father expects you to enter apprenticeship a season ago. If you don’t . . .

I know! You don’t have to tell me . . .

Ximia stuttered as Zorbix glared at her with his bright eyes behind his old wrinkles. She lowered her head. I’m sorry. I did not mean to interrupt.

Zorbix sighed inwardly. This was the first Fahzab daughter he had for a student and he had thought it would be easy seeing how the other two Fahzab girls had both turned out outstandingly in their academic advancement. But now it seemed that once again he would be proven the lesser one in the family by failing to even send Ximia into apprenticeship. For Baovie’s sake! He had trained many youngsters and most of them eventually reached expert level. Now he had the one chance to serve King Fahzab II by training his youngest daughter and things had turned out badly. He was cursed. He had been cursed from the day he married into this royal family of Ubion.

"This is it for today. Go inside. You have your sister’s Tiep’nan to go to." He turned around, limping more than usual as he walked towards the back gate of his residence.

Right, finally Zulia is getting what she wished and marrying the man of her choice. Now she can get out of my hair and I can be freed of her endless lectures! Ximia felt her spirit lift just a little bit. She held her wand and followed Zorbix. They walked along a thin path through the private woods.

There leaning on the frame of the backdoor with folded arms was her great aunt Ariel. She eyed the two inquiringly as they walked up. Her question was quickly answered by his grim expression and her drooped head: another day of failures. After she watched Ximia walk up the stairs to her room to change, she followed Zorbix to the kitchen, where he took up a jug and swallowed a swig of ale.

She’s only fourteen. Give her some time. The healthily plump woman tried to carry a helpful tone.

You were working on Journeyman Rune Art when you were fourteen. Zulia was well into apprenticeship when she was fourteen. And Yvaen is only eighteen and she has what, two expert titles? And then there is Kwoung, who was an Expert Sorcerer when he was fifteen . . .

Fahzab did not enter apprenticeship until he was fifteen . . .

He is the king!

He is your nephew and he apprenticed with you!

This child is going to ruin her reputation and mine . . .

Hush you! Enough! Your reputation? You are blaming a child for your reputation?

Zorbix waved his hand and walked out of the kitchen. When Ariel talked like that, it was time to walk away. He could never win an argument with her. It was not because she was a princess, but because Ariel had this amazing ability to catch him when he was acting small.

Ariel followed him out. She knew it was not the time to pursue a subject when Zorbix waved his hand and walked away. She could go on and he would not heed a word of it.

"Let’s just get ready to go to the Tiep’nan." She changed the subject.

I’m not going.

Why do men act more like children when they become older?

"Oh no, mister! We talked about that. We are all going together! It would not look good on us to not show up on the first Tiep’nan for his daughters!"

Zorbix did not answer. Then he moved his one foot and his cane towards the bedroom.

"Why do they even have a Tiep’nan? It’s a free choice marriage! They can just go straight to the wedding," Zorbix groaned as he tried to take his ceremonial gown off the hanger.

Ariel helped him unhook the gown as she said, You know the king. It’s all about control. So what if it is free choice? He will make it look like it’s his decision.

He chose Lord General D’Moore. Everybody knows that. But I would say Zulia has better taste. Kwoung is only the best sorcerer in the kingdom.

Ariel gave him a bump with her elbow from behind. You are the best sorcerer in the kingdom and you know it!

I’m old time . . . Zorbix said, finally softened up. Now if you want to get there on time, I suggest that you check on Ximia. She has a knack of forgetting about the very thing she is supposed to do.

Ariel nodded. In fact, she almost forgot that she had something for Ximia.

Ximia stood in front of her vanity and looked into her half-length ornate mirror, where her almost fully developed body was tightly fitting into her one-piece silk undergarment. She frowned and pouted into the mirror. It was not that whatever had happened today was bothering her right now. Well, maybe still a little bit. But it was not different from any other days. She liked her look when she frowned and pouted, so she did it again.

Ximia dear! Ariel literally floated upstairs behind a servant girl, who was carrying a full-length dress in her hand. Ariel’s body almost filled up the narrow stairwell but she hardly gasped after she reached the top of the stairs. A Rune Artist does those amazing things. Ximia’s eyes followed her great aunt. She wondered if she should have chosen Rune Art instead of Sorcery.

Try this on. I had it made for you for your sixteenth’s birthday, but I can see you are going to outgrow it before then!

The servant girl helped her put on the dress. It was a forest green taffeta gown with black accents. The bodice was made of fine white soft silk. The cuffs and the edge of the chest were lined with small black and purple embroidered flowers.

My my! Aren’t you a grown-up girl in that dress? I’m glad I did not wait until you turn sixteen. Ariel exclaimed exaggeratedly, like all old women did when they talked about their grandchildren. You are going to be a beauty!

Ximia remained exceptionally docile while Aunt Ariel handled her around, admiring her long dark curly hair, her large deep green eyes with black eye lashes, her smooth pink cheeks, and her well-shaped chest accented by her tiny waist that tightly fit into her bodice.

The carriage is ready, a servant appeared at the door and quietly announced.

I don’t need the carriage, Ximia said.

Nonsense! Aunt Ariel was always quick with her mouth.

But Emerald Palace is close, Auntie. I can walk. The truth was she loved to walk through Harbor Market to breathe in the lively and colorful spirit of the commoners’ life, a perk when she stayed over at the Zorbix Residence for her lessons.

"You are not to walk in the tunnel in that dress. You need to show up spotless for your sister’s Tiep’nan."

Ariel always had a way to make her listen. Pleasing her was so natural to do. Ximia wondered if her own mother were alive, she would be like Ariel. She followed Ariel downstairs.

There in the front courtyard, she stepped onto the servant’s back and into the carriage. Zorbix and Ariel followed behind her. Upon a slight urge of the harness, the horses abruptly started moving and the carriage wheels squeaked as it made a sharp turn and rolled out to the path leading to the front gate.

CHAPTER 2

A royal Tiep’nan was a private event to which only the kingdom nobles were invited, but the whole city could feel the joyousness from the colorful banners hung along the main street and the brightly lit lanterns floating in the air everywhere. In three days, there would be a wedding and a celebration parade. It would be the grandest ceremony in the kingdom within decades as the bridegroom would one day succeed the throne, if and when the king died.

Like many other structures in Sweriek, Emerald Palace was a tall tower. It was five-stories high, wider at the bottom and tapering thinner as it rose up. It had three interconnected balconies extending out from the second floor, a perfect venue for royal banquets. The first floor was a circular hall with painted tall ceilings and a stage in the center back. It was not a very big hall so as the noble men, women and children in their elegant wear streamed through the front door, the space got a bit crowded.

Lords and ladies, counts and countesses, dukes and duchesses, with their spouses and children, greeted one another, and were led to their respective seats in the balconies. Some stayed in the hall for the opportunity to gossip before the royal family made their appearances.

Countess Cressona was happy to see young Leah. She dipped her small curtsey, being extra careful not to disturb her heavy jewelries.

Lady Leah! Every time I see you, you wear something new and gorgeous on your neck! What is this beautiful pendant?

It’s called a sand diamond. Leah dragged Cressona to a corner next to an altar. He bought it for me from Taklaman. She smiled secretly. Count Yerlund, Leah’s husband, was an avid businessman. The young noble couple was a rising star when it came to the size of their wealth, accumulated only during the short six years of relatively peaceful time in Altethlon.

The more I look at you, Leah, the more I feel I am married to the wrong man! Cressona teased.

Talking about marrying the wrong man, this Kwoung Sy does not even wear one single royal title. Leah changed the subject.

I know. I wonder how the king is going to maneuver around that.

Bestow him a royal title, of course. Hush . . . here comes the baby princess! Leah gestured with the corners of her eyes as Ximia showed up in the hall.

Cressona glanced. Baby? She’s no longer a baby!

Still the baby who killed the queen.

Hush . . . This time Cressona was the one hushing. And I would say she does not look like the king in any way . . .

That is old gossip Cressona. Leah snickered.

Oldies but goodies. And it gets better now that she’s grown up for everybody to see!

The two women decided to leave the hall before anyone overheard their conversation.

Ximia looked to all directions for something or someone interesting. She was a bit lost as Ariel and Zorbix became engaged in a conversation with Duke Salang. There were two back exits from the hall, one leading to a chamber and the other to Ebon Moon Palace, where the royal family resided. Her father was not here yet, neither were her two sisters. It was not that she wanted to see them. In fact, she would try her best to delay seeing her father because he would surely ask about her Sorcery lessons. The nobles around her bowed and curtseyed and murmured Your Highness, but they could not discern which direction she was going so they could not make way for her. They did have the good sense to not stare.

Then she saw Lord Haerman, a twelve-year-old boy she went to school with.

Haerman was acting sneaky.

Hey! She poked him.

Princess! He jumped. She was almost a whole head taller than him. He looked at her and held up a finger to his mouth.

What? Are you playing detective again? What did you hear?

Ancient Dark Medic. Ring a bell?

No. She pondered briefly and said, Maybe.

Come. He pulled her by her cuff and led her towards the back of the throne.

It kills and heals at the same time. It inflicts unimaginable pain without damaging. It weakens and then it destroys, the boy said.

Ximia laughed out loud. Haerman glared at her.

Right, and it raises the dead. It’s a myth! It does not exist, she said.

Does too.

It died. It died before you and I were born.

Ah ha! Ask me what I heard Lord Pol say when he was talking to my uncle.

What did Lord Pol say when he was talking to your uncle? Curiosity gave in.

Can I kiss you on the cheek? The boy decided to simmer her attention.

No!

Just one little kiss? Please? Ow ow ow! Lord Haerman gasped in agony as Ximia pinched him on his funny bone – a trick she named hot pepper.

Okay! Okay, The young lord surrendered. When Lord Pol went to visit the hermit, he thought he saw him practicing Ancient Dark Medic. Just two days ago.

The hermit? The one who lives in a tree outside the city?

Yes. His real name is Lord Cluen. And he is a Master Ancient Dark Medic. And, we may see him today as your father has invited him.

"Impossible. My father would not invite a madman to my sister’s Tiep’nan . . ."

Lord Haerman! someone called. It was time for him to be seated.

Ximia was lost in her wandering mind.

The Kingdom of Ubion was one of the oldest and strongest kingdoms in the Altethlon Empire. It was solely populated by a human race bestowed with the talent to harness magic: the Witch Folks. As much as the Ubionians would like to seal the world’s awe over its magical power, they could really only boast two schools of magic: Elemental Sorcery and Rune Art. Elemental Sorcery, a powerful destructive line, was mostly practiced by men, and Rune Art, a protective and healing magic, by women. More ambitious young men would usually train in swordsmanship which would lead to the rank of Dark Knight. The elite troop of Dark Knights represented the epiphany of Ubion’s military prowess. Alternatively, youngsters could also train in crafts and scholarly subjects.

Every girl Ximia knew had gone into Rune Art, including her sister Zulia. Her other sister, Yvaen, had chosen the path of a scholar and had studied history and music. Ximia held no interest in those subjects at all. Thus she chose Elemental Sorcery just to be different.

After several seasons of Sorcery lessons, she was disappointed and lost. The laws of Elemental Sorcery sure made a lot of sense and she had simple instructions to follow. And yet, her progress was painfully slow. She knew she was talented. She could feel it inside of her. But she simply could not make it work for her. Something was missing and yet she could not name what it was.

Hearing what Haerman said opened up a glimpse of wonder in the otherwise dull reality: A mysterious madman was practicing a completely different kind of magic. Sure it might all be just a madman doing his crazy things, but what if it was real? She felt goose bumps all over her as the excitement of a new option swept through her body.

Hello! I am talking to you! Zulia was waving her hand in front of Ximia’s face. She must have been talking for quite a while. Ximia did not hear a word of what she said, nor did she care. If it was important, Zulia would say it again. Zulia had played mom ever since Ximia was born. Ximia was tired of her oldest sister’s tyranny and she was glad it would end soon.

She gave Zulia a look of I was listening! and then turned her attention to the man standing next to her sister: Kwoung Sy the Grandmaster Sorcerer, soon to be Lord Master as the king would bestow him a royal title today. Kwoung was a handsome man in a lavishly refined kind of way. He had light purple eyes and a pair of sharp long brows. He wore a well-groomed thin mustache and a short goatee. He had copper skin with blue glows, darker than the usual Witch Folks. His dark skin tone was contrasted with his long silvery hair braided cleanly behind his head - silvery not because he was twenty years senior of Zulia, but because he had practiced Elemental Sorcery for a long time, a practice known to cause hair to lighten in weight and color. He wore a silver robe with black silk lining, which gave him an aura of mysterious power and a permanent air of distance.

Even then, it was easy to see that he was ecstatic standing next to Zulia, who was a radiant beauty herself.

Congratulations, future brother-in-law! Ximia curtseyed.

My thanks, Princess, Kwoung bowed with a smile. Ximia almost decided that she liked him when he asked, So how is Sorcery?

Does nobody have anything better to ask? How about how is your pet raccoon? or who would you like me to beat up today? or what do you know about Zulia since I am going to live with her?

Sorcery is alright, she answered coyly. Then she added, Now that Zulia is going to be yours, you should know . . .

Oh? Kwoung played along to be polite. Zulia was looking alarmed, knowing her little sister too well. But it was too late.

Ximia leaned closer towards Kwoung but not too close. Then she whispered quietly into his ear but not so quietly that Zulia could not hear, Zulia snores.

Kwoung exploded with laughter.

You! Zulia glared at her, not sure if she was simply mad at Ximia or was mad that she could not hit her because Kwoung was here. Ximia is such a thorn in the behind. If it weren’t for her, I would still have a mother.

Kwoung finally stopped laughing. It will be fine. I won’t be sleeping much, he said as he squeezed Zulia’s hand.

Why? Ximia’s eyes went round and big. She was genuinely puzzled.

We should be seated, said Kwoung, winking at Ximia good-naturedly as he escorted a badly flushed Zulia away.

"Tiep’nan, a ceremony where the bride and bridegroom are introduced to each other; Tuan’mat, when the bride and bridegroom spend their first three days together getting acquainted in every

Reviews for The Altethlon Chronicles

[chinaphotographer_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

China's love affair with superstition, pseudoscience and the fantastical can be traced back over five millennia, whence some of history's oldest myths and legends originated. Journey to the West (Xi You Ji), published anonymously by scholar Wu Cheng'en in the 16th century Ming Dynasty, remains China's most beloved fantasy story. Considered one of the "Four Great Classical Novels" of Chinese literature, the 100 chapters of `Journey' are replete with monkey kings, flesh-eating demons, immortal sages and celestial battles. When science fiction became all the craze in 1950's America, Red China followed suit by founding its first sci-fi periodical. But unlike in the west, where science fiction was fueled by rapid advances in the tech sector, China promoted sci-fi to help inspire its own dormant technological progress. Conversely, about the same time during the 70's that American director George Lucas was preparing to film a little space opera called Star Wars, the Cultural Revolution was banishing all its scientists to hard-labor communes. Indeed, where the Chinese have categorically failed in speculative fiction (programming on the Communist-controlled CCTV is evidence enough that future perspective is held in little regard here: of China's 19 official television channels, all feature serials set in olden times, some in the present, none about the future), they remain masters of mythology and purveyors of the past. Present-day PRC is seeing a renaissance of the fantasy genre. The wuxia-inspired Chinese film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was a critical and commercial success, generations of young, Chinese cyber-punks are hopelessly addicted to the virtual sorcery of World of Warcraft, and Harry Potter remains China's "most pirated novel ever." Even so, no Chinese author has ever been able to replicate the success of Journey to the West; as a result, publishing houses in the Middle Kingdom prefer to translate western best-sellers like Lord of the Rings and Narnia rather than take their chances on local fantasy fiction writers. Enter Zee Gorman, nee Yan Zihong, China's response to J.K. Rowling. Born in Guangdong province during the Cultural Revolution (both her parents were exiled to the countryside for being "intellectuals"), Zee was raised on a literary diet of propaganda and scar literature. But rather than publish a clichéd daughter-of-the-Revolution memoir about her hardships, the aspiring author opted for the escapism of fantasy. Hence her decades-in-the-making debut novel, The Altethlon Chronicles. A high-fantasy fiction set in a parallel universe either far in China's future or its past, Altethlon Chronicles is a complex blend of military, history, romance and sorcery. Leading the rich cast of green-eyed, purple-skinned characters is the royal yet rebellious teen Ximia ("what kind of princess are you anyway, running around like a wildcat?") and her forbidden lover, Nikolas, the leader of a rival tribe - a tumultuous relationship most likely inspired by Zee's own experience with cultural clash when she immigrated to the U.S. and married an American. Ximia is misled into believing that Nikolas has been killed during an escape attempt, whereby the princess is married off by her father to a dastardly lord. The two young warriors go on to lead their respective armies until the day when destiny arranges for them to meet again in battle. Lots of magic, weird names and epic battles of Tolkien proportions (note: this reviewer has never actually read a J. R. R. Tolkien book; I just thought it sounded cool to say that) ensue. In creating this alternate world, Zee draws heavily on her Chinese heritage. Kingdoms such as Manchuli, Dalong and Taklaman are each reminiscent of real regions in China. Nonetheless, Zee, who is bi-lingual and holds dual degrees in English Literature, chose to write The Altethlon Chronicles in her second language and self-publish in America rather than risk having it pirated in China's nascent fantasy market. Some realities are worth escaping. ### Tom Carter is the author of CHINA: Portrait of a People