The Dream Valley

By Robert Thomas

A land held in perpetual summer, the Dream Valley is as lush and beautiful as when the world was born. The air is as sweet as nectar and the water so clear it mirrors the clouds from the sky itself. Nothing ever dies there except for the very old. Never has there been a care until an unexpected invasion from a land long thought dead envelops the Chrystum and two life-long friends are thrown into the ravages of war.
Creatures they once fought only in their dreams of glory and grandeur have come to life to rape and pillage their peaceful world. Their only hope now resides in a stranger from outside their realm and the aging wisdom of one of their own as an epic journey of magic and war now consumes them to the very end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Thomas
• Release date: Sep 3, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476309934

Robert Thomas

I welcome all to my world of writing and authorship. I am a husband, father and grandfather and I have been writing for many years and have published several fantasy works available through most major ebook retailers. I have tried to give the tales a feeling of place and circumstances that, although fiction, all readers who enjoy fantasy can relate to. In the past three years I have veered from the fantasy genre that started me down my writing path, with the release of The Home World Series. It currently contains three books, Star Eagle Six, Ghost Fleet, and Battle Wagon. It is a rip-roaring space opera that romps across the galaxy. The Last Elf Prophecy series stands at two books with the release of Decimation of Allingaard. It begins where book one, Sands of Nevertime ends. The series takes the reader through a world of discovery as an aging wizard tries to fulfill his life's dream; revive a long-lost world of elves.The third book of the series is being written; Awakening of Lillestrom. Look for it in the coming year. Also look for my trilogy; The Crystal Point Legacy: The Dream Valley, Silent Watcher and Death of Kings. If you are a fan of short stories, I have partnered with a group of authors on three anthologies: End of the Road, The Kiss, and The Bitten. Look for my works in those as well. I also welcome all to follow along with my blog, Ramblings of a 50 year old man; http://rambling50.blogspot.com. It is just my thoughts on life as I journey along to the fateful end. I also have a blog, http://sheimas.blogspot.com which is an on-going, first-person prequel to The Crystal Point Legacy. I hope you join me in my writing as we discover new worlds together.

Book preview

Dedication

To my parents who gave each of their children

the strength to live their lives with courage

and faith in God and each other

Acknowledgments

To my brother Donald who lent his time and talents to

edit and proof this and other works

Dream Valley © 2012 Robert Thomas

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic or otherwise without the written permission of the author or his representatives

Dream Valley

by Robert Thomas

Book one of

The Crystal Point Legacy

Trilogy

Chapter One

Three Valleys

The morning broke bright and clear, the low fire from the night before ebbing, allowing a chill to enter the room. There was much work to do today and his lack of sleep would only make the day seem longer. His dream had been unexpected. He wondered, why would he remember this experience now?

Seika rarely thought about men and their kind. He had only seen a man once before. He had been traveling in the southern part of the Dream Valley, a place of perpetual summer where grassy hills locked together to form a rolling carpet of green. The tall thick trees ringing the valley floor stood like sentinels guarding the peaceful entrance that faced the Great Southern Wastelands. The valley was long and narrow and as beautiful a place as he had ever seen.

No one ever ventured into the wastelands for legend has it that a great war laid the country bare, harsh and uninhabitable. A never-ending haze prevented one from even seeing into the wastelands. Seika’s journey had taken him near the end of the valley where the trees thinned out. It was there he first caught a glimpse of him. Being the overly curious fellow he was, Seika tried to follow the stranger, but as the day slipped to twilight he was lost into the gathering darkness of the trees.

Seika was an accomplished woodsman, his skills nearly unmatched in all the Chrystum. He had tried to work his way closer while keeping a discreet distance. He struggled at balancing his intense curiosity, his first chance of seeing a man, and a troubling sense of fear. It seemed as though in the blink of an eye, he was gone. He had missed his chance.

He didn’t know why he had remembered his experience. It had been several months past and he hadn’t thought of it since. Well enough daydreaming, there was work to be done and it wouldn’t go away until he started. He rolled and flipped his legs over the side of the bed, let his feet hit the floor and slowly stretched as he rose.

It was going to be a beautiful day. He could feel the warmth of the morning light starting to take the chill from his bungalow. He moved toward the door to see the new day in all its fullness and to breathe the fresh morning air. As he passed the low window he could see someone coming across his field. Most folks didn’t pass this way very often. His little home was away from the rest of the community, tucked into the low hills surrounding the village. Anyone coming this way would be headed to see him.

Seika opened the door letting the new light fill his home. He stepped outside and turned north toward the field. It was Chimol. He could see him clearly now, strolling up the long, green pasture.

Hello, Chimol, he called.

Good morning, Seika!

Now why is he coming here, Seika wondered. Ah yes, to help me with the repair on my roof. Seika was a fairly intelligent fellow but had a tendency to be a little absent-minded. This unfortunate trait did at times have its amusing moments.

Did you remember I was coming this morning?

Oh, yes. I’m just a little late getting up today. These bones aren’t getting any younger.

Chimol and Seika had been friends for many years having met when they were children. Although they weren’t very old they had a tendency to joke about the fact that middle age was heading for them fast. They had each seen thirty summers and though that is not very old for Sheimas, they would often say they had actually seen thirty winters.

With the ground too wet for planting, Seika had time to work on the roof having little else to do this early in the spring. The winter had done little actual damage but there were several small holes that needed attention. It would be a fine day, the sun warm and the skies clear from the evening rain. Both were skilled with their hands as was the custom of their kind and they knew they could be finished in just a few turns if need be. But today with a high sun, not much really mattered.

Their labors began in a leisurely manner as they worked with great skill weaving the thatched roof back into a fine carpet. After a few turns they decided to take a break, the sun being a little warmer than they had hoped. They tossed their rope ladders back down the side and lowered themselves to the grass.

I’ve been keeping a secret from you Chimol.

Oh? And since when have you become so mysterious, old friend?

Mysterious? Me? Well, it’s hardly anything like that. I just wasn’t sure you would believe me. Seika rose and started to pace as Chimol leaned back against the low wall and slipped to the ground.

You seem disturbed. What is this secret you can’t tell your best friend? Chimol puffed himself up a bit, pretending annoyance.

Seika then recounted the tale of his day in the Dream Valley and the stranger, the man he encountered. Chimol was astounded. He had never actually seen a man and the tales of their misdeeds was almost enough to keep one awake at night.

Why are you telling me this now?

I don’t really know. I haven’t thought of it for a long time and then last night, the memory came back in a dream. It’s a little unsettling. I don’t know why.

A man you say! This is very exciting! I’ve never seen a man with my own eyes, but I’ve heard the tales and the rumors of late.

Rumors?

Oh yes Seika. You sit up here in the shadows of the hills and don’t know of the rumors, rumors of a man clad in crimson. Several have claimed to have seen him but can offer no proof. It is said he moves like the wind, silent and quick, yet leaves no trail to follow.

Why have you not told me of this before?

It is simple. I have not seen you for weeks.

Tell me now. With this news things do not seem to bode well. Men-folk in the Chrystum! It is unheard of and in light of my sighting evil seems to be afoot.

Chimol then recounted the news of the previous weeks. He knew of a sighting near the bellows late at night, seen by the glow of the fire and the haze of the hot coals; a sighting near the northern boundary where the lands of the Sheimas end and the flatlands begin. He then told of one about which he had no doubt. It was made by his cousin Camdir, and it is said he was as honest as the river was wet as he was one of the few fishermen in all the Chrystum. This in itself was regarded as a little odd for Sheimas are not all that fond of water. He had been fishing on the southern-most loop of the Orange River just north of where Seika had seen the stranger when he saw a man bent over at the water’s edge. He was so excited he stood in his boat to call out, lost his balance and fell into the water. By the time he crawled back into his boat the man was gone.

Seika was astonished! Maybe Chimol was playing a game with him. He did that from time to time, but as he quizzed him every detail was the same, over and over again. He now had more questions than answers. Why were these things happening now? Why at all? He knew of only one person who might hold some answers, the only living Sheima in all the Chrystum who had ever traveled across its borders. But that would have to wait; there was still the roof to finish. They started back up and in just another turn their task would be finished.

* * *

Strolling through the vastness of the Chrystum was one of Seika’s favorite pastimes. It allowed him to clear his mind and unwind his thoughts as the seemingly endless hills rolled by nudged along by gentle breezes, the swaying of the tall grass like waves breaking the surface of a pristine sea. He loved this land and all that it held. But now his mind held other thoughts, those he scarcely remembered from his youth. Dreams of adventure and danger were as foreign to him as was soaring among the birds. Had he been foolish in his youth? Well, who among us hasn’t had such thoughts, he chuckled. Keeping his thoughts from wandering was next to impossible. The land was too rich, the scents too crisp and clean to concentrate. As twilight was beginning to take hold he hadn’t realized his meandering thoughts had slowed his pace. He quickened his step. It would be a long walk back and the hour would be late.

There comes a time in most everyone’s life when one must seek out the advice of the older and wiser, or the crazier, depending on one’s point of view, and Seika knew this time had come for him. He was almost there; a few more fields to cross and then a row or two of houses and up the hill. Mr. Clancy would be there; he always was and it seemed he always would be. Mr. Clancy would be in the house on the hill behind the crossroads.

Now, Mr. Clancy Olsides was about as odd as they come, or so it seemed to most. He traveled, or used to. That in and of itself was very strange as it was rare throughout their history that anyone traveled. The tales he used to tell had become legendary. They had long since been stretched beyond belief, but that was part of the aura that had grown up around him. Mr. Clancy didn’t mind. Folk thought him queer enough to leave him alone and that was just fine with him. Although he did have visitors on rare occasions, most were considered odd as well. They were usually old friends though most had long since passed away. ‘Beyond the river’ was the colloquial term.

A quarter-turn past the crossroads Seika reached the top of the hill at the edge of Mr. Clancy’s property. A few minutes more and he stood at the threshold of his journey. He felt very much out of place. Well, this is it, he thought. He reached up and knocked softly on the weathered door. Nothing. He knocked again, still no reply. The lights were on gleaming softly, the glow swallowed up as it raced into the gathering darkness. He took a step back and looked from side to side. Mr. Clancy was nowhere in sight. He turned his back to the door and looked out over the hillside below. It would be a long walk back. It was time to go.

Ho young man, came the call. Seika swung around, slightly startled. What can I do for you this fine evening?

Good evening Mr. Clancy. It is a fine evening indeed. I did not think you were home. I was wondering if I might have a few minutes of your time. Seika swallowed hard.

Of course. I do not receive many visitors these days. Not that I chase them away mind you. Folks aren’t as friendly as they were in my day, you understand. Come in, come in, it’s beginning to get a bit chilly out here and that’ll do you no good at all.

Seika retraced his steps, paused, and went inside. It was a cozy cottage, not brightly lit but glowing brightly from a small fire in the hearth. It seemed homey, the walls decorated with personal mementos and quaint paintings. The room was subdued but very much alive. He turned as Mr. Clancy closed the door.

I remember you. You are Seika. You live down by the low hills, do you not?

Yes sir, Seika replied.

You were just a boy the last I spoke to you. Here, please take a seat if you are tired. It is a long walk from where you have come.

Seika was surprised. He had no idea Mr. Clancy would remember him as it had been perhaps twenty summers since their last encounter. He had been playing with Chimol down by the crossroads when Mr. Clancy happened by. He was the embodiment of adventure for all the boys of the Chrystum. He was ‘the traveler’, the only one by which news of the outside ever reached their lands.

Seika hadn’t realized how tired he was from the long walk. He looked over to the fire. Beside it sat a common oak chair and a rather large rocker made from a wood he could not put a name to. Strange he thought; that grain looks so familiar. He took a seat in the smaller of the two and let out a long, low sigh. Mr. Clancy took his place in the rocker.

Now, Mr. Clancy was not a large fellow as Sheimas go, but he was obviously a little wider than most. Not that he was fat, by no means. He seemed fit as a fiddle, not the tired old crackpot most considered him to be. He was graying on his temples but the remarkable thing was he still had a full crop of red hair. Oh, there were a few streaks of white, just a few, though. I guess he does look a little crazy, Seika thought.

Mr. Clancy studied Seika carefully as the fire warmed the distance between them. Seika was staring into the flames, not watching, just staring. For the first time in several turns his mind was blank. He was startled when Mr. Clancy spoke.

What can I do for you Seika?

I have been troubled of late sir. Seika settled deep into the chair and continued. A few months ago I was down in the Dream Valley and I happened across a man. He is the first I have ever encountered. I actually forgot about him until last night. And now...

And now you have heard rumors of men-folk in the Chrystum.

Yes sir. But how did you know? Seika was taken aback. How could this old hermit have known of this?

Yes, I know of the rumors, and of you knowing of them, well, that is another matter. Why are you troubled by this news? Did it never occur to you that someday men-folk would come? I have had many dealings with men and their kind. You know of my travels I take it?

Seika nodded politely. Men are not like us, yet in many ways we are quite the same. I have met many over the years. Some are good and some are bad. The only strange ones are those who possess both these qualities. They are the ones you must be wary of. There are many strange creatures in the world and none are strictly good however, there are those that are purely evil. They are born of evil, for evil alone. They are the creatures of the underworld, those that have no souls. Long ago they came up from the depths of the earth and spread their multitudes across the lands. They are the cruelest of creatures for they have no love for anyone or anything. Most are servants of greater lords, yet these lords keep themselves hidden. They reside in the lower depths and spread their foul odors through their servants.

These are strange tidings Mr. Clancy. Seika said with a raised brow. What else can you tell me of men?

First, tell me of the rumors you have heard. I would be interested to hear how they have changed through gossip.

Seika then proceeded to tell him of the rumors he had heard and again of his encounter in the Dream Valley. He in turn was enthralled by Mr. Clancy’s tales. He was surprised to learn Mr. Clancy still traveled though he did not wander far, at least compared to the days of his youth.

Time had slipped by quickly and darkness had fallen several turns before and though spring was afoot the night airs were still cool. The fire was beginning to die and the night airs began invading the cabin. Seika was surprised. Time had passed so quickly he had forgotten about supper. The roar in his stomach was a certain reminder.

I’m glad we had this talk, Seika. I’m sorry to see this night end. It is seldom I have the chance to recount my old adventures to anyone. I hope they didn’t bore you. Clancy was a wise old fellow. He knew Seika was anything but bored.

Oh my no! I have often wondered of your travels. I wish I could have heard them sooner. I am glad I came. I would like to visit you again and talk, if you would not mind.

I would be most grateful. And please, bring that nosy friend of yours, Chimol. As a matter of fact, I have someone I would like you to meet. He will be here, three days hence. He has been on a long journey and word has come to me of his impending arrival. Can you visit again in three nights?

Certainly, Seika exclaimed as he nearly jumped out of his seat.

And please, come a bit earlier if you may; we could have supper before his arrival. Nothing like a fine meal to work up a good conversation.

Now, Sheimas are partial to big suppers and they like to make large productions of their evening meals. He thanked Mr. Clancy and took his leave. He was already excited about his next visit and took little notice of the long walk home.

* * *

Seika’s next two days passed agonizingly slow. The beautiful night past would be the last for some time. The nurturing rains of spring bathed the surrounding fields making them sloppy and with little else to do, Seika waited. He had left word for Chimol to meet him in the early morning but hadn’t said why. Chimol would be there he was sure and not telling him why was a good joke.