Resounding Echo

By Michelle Louring

The battlefield of angels and demons is no place for a mortal . . .
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Selissa has no memories from before the priests at the temple of Issara found her battered and bruised outside their gates years ago. All she has from her past life is a strange symbol on her back and frightening, confusing dreams.
Her new life is thrown into disarray when the mysterious traveler Alassane arrives at the temple. With him follows the horrors her lost memories have been hiding. Selissa suddenly finds herself fighting for her life and comes to realize that no one is what they pretend to be . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Louring
• Release date: Nov 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466078864

Michelle Louring

Wayward Dane, writing high fantasy in English!By now you have probably read hundreds of author bios showcasing various fancy awards and such. I won't bore you with that (mostly because I don't have any...), so here's a few things about me:1. I'm a total geek2. I'm into gaming3. I own an owl4. I probably mostly own an owl because no one would sell me a dragon5. I do archery6. I do cosplay7. I'm really not nearly as interesting as the above facts would lead you to believe

Book preview

Chapter 1

The silence in the temple was deafening. No sound was heard in the deserted hallways and not even the chirping of birds filled the gardens. It was just before sunrise and the usually crowded yards were empty. Neither the priests nor the people who came to seek the gods’ blessings were awake yet. Not even any of the many refugees who sought sanctuary there were to be seen this early in the morning.

A slight rustle of movement broke the silence. On the roof overlooking one of the temple yards sat a young woman. She was the only one awake, and she made sure to sit so still that no one would have noticed her, even if they had happened to pass by.

Selissa shifted slightly. She had been sitting there for hours already, and her back was getting stiff. She knew the priests would reprimand her for sitting out all night, just like they always did, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

A cold wind blew through the yard, whipping Selissa’s hair into her eyes. She absentmindedly led a hand to her face to brush it away. The cold didn’t bother her. It helped chase away a very different kind of chill.

The nightmare was still vivid in her mind. Though it still left her shaken, it was nothing new. It was the same nightmare that had plagued her ever since she first came to the temple.

How long had it been since then? Five years? Six? She couldn’t quite remember anymore.

Ghostly images still flashed through her mind when she closed her eyes. It was always the same. A dark room, filled with whispering voices. She was surrounded by cloaked figures. She would never see their faces, but their voices haunted her even during the day. A constant whispering, like they were chanting. A sudden pain shooting through her body as if hell itself was trying to burn its way through her back.

She never saw what happened at the end. She would always wake up in a cold sweat, as if the pain had been real, the chanting still echoing in her mind.

A noise broke her from her thoughts. She had barely noticed the first light shining on the horizon, announcing the start of the day. The apprentices were the first to show for the morning’s duties. Their first job of the day was to make sure everything was ready for the morning Mass.

Selissa knew the priests would be making their way to the Great Hall by now to perform the Mass. That’s how it went, to the point where she never needed to know what time it was. The life in the temple was so structured and predictable she could hardly remember the last time something out of the ordinary happened. Every day started out with the Mass in the morning and ended with a ritual at night. After the Mass, classes would start. The apprentices would study in the library or assist the priests in teaching the children who came to the temple for lessons. Once a week, the priests would perform the Blessing for any who wished for the gods’ protection. Occasionally, some of the refugees living at the temple would get into a fight, but the priests would always put an end to it. More than once, she had gotten involved in those fights and been on the receiving end of a few punches. But that was the worst that ever happened under the temple’s roof.

She knew the priests had to pass by the place she was sitting to get to the Great Hall. And she also knew that if they discovered her, they would not only pester her about staying out at night, but she would also be forced to attend Mass, even if they had to drag her by her ankles.

She quickly jumped down from the roof as quietly as possible so the passing apprentices wouldn’t notice her. Sneaking around without getting discovered was a skill she had mastered early in her time living there.

Knowing exactly which hallways would be empty at this time made it easy to avoid the temple’s other residents. She made her way through the maze-like corridors, all of which she knew like the back of her hand, to the garden farthest away from the main halls of the temple.

As the garden came into view, Selissa felt herself relax at the familiar sight. The morning light bathed the place in an almost ethereal glow, painting the grass in a pale green color. It was a color that couldn’t be seen at any other time of day.

The garden was nearly isolated from the rest of the sanctuary and Selissa always got the feeling that she was stepping into a different world when she entered it. The sound of human activity faded away, and as she slowly made her way across the grass, the only noise made was that of the birds waking up to greet the day.

She liked the solitude the garden provided. It allowed her to escape the life of the temple, even if only for a little while. She was thankful to the priests who had taken her in all those years ago, and they had always treated her well, but she knew she didn’t belong there. It was like there was an invisible wall between her and everyone else. It made little sense to everyone else, but she felt the least alone when she was by herself.

She walked through the garden, slowly approaching the small lake hidden in the back. Watching the light play across the surface, she listened to the soft sound of rippling water.

Sitting down at the edge, she watched the water move quietly. The wind had blown a few leaves into the lake and rings were slowly spreading, disturbing the surface.

As the water stilled, Selissa found her reflection staring back at her. A narrow face framed by dark hair. But that was rarely what caught people’s attention. The pair of eyes staring back at her were pale, a misty silver color barely broken by faded black pupils. They stood in sharp contrast to her dark hair and made the reflection shimmering across the surface seem unreal.

Frowning, Selissa threw a rock at the water, watching the ghostly image dissolve. It was no wonder people kept their distance. She knew those strange, silvery eyes unnerved them. The way she looked reminded them of the demons in the myths who took the shape of humans in order to trick their victims. In a place where people worshipped angels, a simple birth defect was enough to make everyone wary of her.

Lost in thought, she almost missed the sound of soft footsteps on the cobbled path. Her head snapped up when she realized she wasn’t alone, searching the garden for the intruder.

A young man, dressed in priest robes, stepped onto the path behind her. She relaxed immediately when she recognized him.

Calen had been an apprentice at the temple when Selissa first arrived. He was one of the people who had found her lying battered and bruised outside the sanctuary grounds all those years ago before she was taken in by the temple’s priests.

He had long since passed his exams and become a priest, but to her he was still the same. The years hadn’t changed his boyish but kind face much and he still had the same shaggy blond hair that always managed to make him look like he just rolled out of bed.

Skipping Mass again? he asked, as he approached her. There was no accusation in his voice, and the smile on his face told her he was more amused by her actions than disapproving.

Some of the tension disappeared from her shoulders. Calen was the closest thing she had to a friend and being around him always made her feel at ease. I’m not skipping. I’m just not attending, Selissa answered, before realizing how stupid it sounded. Calen’s smile widened and he let out a chuckle.

The High Priest won’t be happy with you, you know, he said, sitting down next to her.

She scowled and rested her head in her hands. That old man is never happy, is he? I might as well be slacking off since he needs something to complain about, anyway.

Calen let out a sigh, though the smile never left his face. He was so used to her antics by now that he didn’t even try to correct her.

Why did you come out here anyway? I guess you didn’t just want to remind me that I wasn’t at Mass, Selissa said, figuring that he must have had a purpose in coming to find her.

Some refugees and travelers arrived this morning to seek sanctuary here. Since you skipped Mass again, the High Priest wants you to help getting them settled. As Calen said this, he rose from his spot beside her and extended his hand to help her up. She stared at it for a moment before reluctantly accepting it. How bad could it be?

Chapter 2

The temple gates opened with a creaking groan. Selissa waited, none too patiently, with Calen and a few of the temple’s apprentices. The gates opened fully and a small group of people entered the temple grounds. Most of them wore ragged, dirty clothes, revealing them as refugees on the run. Many of the people who came to the temple had fled their homes because of war or persecution. The outer areas of Sinaria had been plagued by the conflict with the enemy nation Ver’dohna, ever since the war broke out between them a few years ago. No one knew the exact reason for the war, or who made the first strike, but that didn’t stop the two countries from despising each other. Unfortunately, it was innocent people that paid the price for that resentment.

The result was thousands of people fleeing their homes and being separated from their families. The temple provided sanctuary for anyone who chose to come there, so seeing refugees was nothing new to Selissa.

She watched as they approached, most of them shooting wary looks around them.  By now, paranoia was so deeply settled in them it would probably follow them for the rest of their lives.

A young girl stumbled on the road and fell to her knees. The hood on her ragged cape fell from her face and long, bright red hair spilled out from it. But it wasn’t her hair that caught Selissa’s attention.

On the girl’s face, right under her left eye, a black mark was tattooed. Even though it was the first time she had ever seen someone with such a tattoo, she recognized it immediately.

The Mark of the Cursed. Selissa had once seen a picture of it in one of the library’s books, but never thought she would meet someone who actually carried the mark on their skin.

The Mark of the Cursed got tattooed on people who were influenced by demonic magic. They were considered outcasts and were often hunted down when people saw the symbol on their cheek. 

A boy, probably a few years older than the girl, helped her to her feet. Selissa noticed that many of the temple’s passing residents were staring and whispering among themselves. The red-haired girl lowered her head and tried to look as small as possible. The boy kept his hand on her shoulder and glared at the nearby people who were all suddenly in a hurry to get to their destination.

Selissa followed them with her eyes as they passed her. The young apprentice who greeted them was obviously nervous, his eyes constantly flickering to the tattoo on the girl’s face.

She must have had it rough if she is met with such hostility even here. Calen’s voice broke her from her thoughts and she turned away from the sight of the two children. Her only answer to his statement was a nod as her eyes turned back to the last of the newcomers.

Most of them had already been led away, but Selissa’s eyes landed on someone lingering by the gate. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed him before. Just from looking at him, she knew he was neither a refugee nor an ordinary traveler.

She couldn’t see his face, since he was wearing a hooded cloak, but his frame was tall and abnormally thin. Seeing starved orphans or refugees was nothing new, but this man clearly wasn’t a refugee. His clothes were both new and clean, and when he walked towards them it wasn’t with the meek walk of a runaway, but with a brisk, confident stride.

As most others had already left, Calen approached the stranger. She heard him greet the cloaked man who merely nodded in return.

Calen turned to walk to the temple halls, the stranger following right behind him. Calen smiled at her, acknowledging her with a nod as he walked past her. Selissa barely noticed him, her eyes never leaving the other man. As he strolled closer, he lifted his head and for the first time she saw his face. 

A pair of dark eyes looked back at her. The face under the hood was pale, framed by dark brown hair. His cheeks were sunken and the skin was practically stretched across the bones. If it hadn’t been for the intense look in his eyes, she would have thought she was looking at a walking corpse.

Suddenly his eyes met hers and her entire body went rigid. A strange feeling went through her, a feeling of recognition. Like she was supposed to know this man.

His eyes bore into hers, and he didn’t look away until he and Calen were past her. Selissa watched them disappear around a corner, too shocked to move at all.

She finally pulled herself together and shook her head in an attempt to shake off feeling. What the hell was that? she muttered to herself. She had never met this man, and she sure as hell didn’t have any desire to meet him again. But still, her mind was screaming at her to run after him and demand he tell her who he was and what he was doing there.

ℓ

Later she found herself brooding in her room. The stranger bothered her more than she would ever admit. Even Calen had noticed her foul mood, even though she was trying to act like nothing was wrong. Finally she had grown tired of his questioning looks and had hid in her room.

Selissa glared at the wall while silently berating herself. She was acting ridiculous and she knew it. It was not like he was the first strange person who had come to this place. Throughout the years, the amount of unique characters that had passed through could fill a Sinarian circus.

The temple welcomed everyone. It was dedicated to Issara, the angel of sanctuary. She was one of the seven archangels, servant to the Sinarian god Shi’laran. Six similar temples were placed all over Sinaria, each dedicated to one of the seven angels.

To turn someone away would be considered sacrilege and Selissa had no intention of going against the guardians of Sinaria.

While growing up she had been surrounded by thieves, robbers and even a couple of guys she suspected might have been assassins. A thin guy in a cloak should not bother her.

She rose from where she was seated on her bed and went to her cabinet to pull out her training gear. She might as well do something instead of sitting around and torturing herself.

Years ago, a Kaneiran blademaster had stayed in the Issara temple for a couple of months. His name was Teren’thil, and he had taken a liking to Selissa, despite the fact that everyone else preferred to keep their distance. In the time he had stayed there, he taught her a lot about sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat.

She had gotten quite good at it and had continued training, even after Teren’thil had left. And right now, a hard training session sounded like a good idea.

She started undressing to change into her training outfit. As she pulled off her shirt, she caught a glimpse of her back in the mirror on the other side of the room. One would think she would be used to it by now, but the sight still made her flinch.

The symbol snaked across her back, the black of the mark contrasting with her pale skin. When the priests first found her, they had thought it was a tattoo of some kind, but there was no sign of any damaged skin under the mark.

Selissa herself didn’t know what it was. She didn’t remember anything, except her name, from before she came to the temple, and the mark had been there ever since.

It was a strange symbol. Black lines circled each other, like snakes fighting for dominance, and covered much of her back. She had looked through thousands of books to find out what it meant and asked every priest who would listen to her, but no one seemed to know what it was.

Selissa pulled the shirt on, willing herself not to care. The symbol, the nightmare . . . No matter what she did, she couldn’t figure out what it all meant. There was no point in trying if there was no answer. She had told herself that so many times she almost believed it. Almost.

Chapter 3

She slashed at the air again and again, trying to hit invisible enemies. She was spinning around herself rapidly, fluid movements making it seem as if she was dancing, rather than training.

As usual, she trained alone. Calen had no combat training, and no one else liked to spend more time in her company than strictly necessary. So ever since Master Teren’thil had left, Selissa’s only opponent had been herself. The few training dummies she had put together in the past barely lasted more than a few weeks.

Slash, kick, dodge . . .

She moved vigorously, swords dancing around her. The blades in her hands were the only thing of value she owned. The pair of twin swords had been a gift from Teren’thil, just before he left. They were old, but well-kept and of good material. The blades were long and thin, and light enough to allow her to swing them with ease. From the hilt of each sword hung a long, red ribbon, which flew around her with each swing. They were designed to attract the enemy’s attention and distract them from the actual blade, and they flew through the air, painting scarlet red lines before her eyes.

Stab, swing, kick . . .

Selissa let everything around her disappear, focusing instead on every step and every movement. The weight of the swords in her hands was familiar and calming. After all these