Captive Spirits Book 1 in the Legends of Aztar Series

By Mary Adair

Aztar is a planet where no one remembers a time of peace. Fear of those who wield a mystical cruelty holds people as CAPTIVE SPIRITS. All that remains is the waning belief in a savior who will someday come to restore peace to a blood soaked land.
Zmeria, an ancient text recovered, brings a Prophecy to life. The leaders of each Region come together with a plan to reunite Aztar's divided people and make way for their savior. They arm themselves with the recently discovered revelation of peace long past. A dream is born and legends revived as Aztar’s people determine to fight the evil and Reclaim Aztar.

The Evil’s grasp is strong on the CAPTIVE SPIRITS of Aztar. Leaders know this battle to free the will and spirit of the people will not be easily won. They decree a King must be chosen. One man of the entire world stands out from the rest. Si, the firstborn son of the house of Volcum, is well known for valor and victories in battle.

A kingdom must be established. As the center of his kingdom, Si Volcum decreed an ancient, long deserted castle far to the north that contained the lost records of Aztar’s forgotten glory. He accepted his chosen bride, Alexis, unseen from a house as old as his own. Si ruled and the land prospered for fifteen years while evil silently waited. The King did not know when evil struck it would be personally against him or that the price would be so high. The people of Aztar chose well in their King. Si will not hesitate. The King will pay the price. From his love and chosen path, the Saga of Aztar begins with the legend of her first King, Si Volcum.

“Reclaim Aztar,” will be their battle cry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Adair
• Release date: Mar 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301343386

Mary Adair

Author Mary Adair lives in Southeast Oklahoma. She writes Native American Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Young Adult and Inspirational Fiction. Mary Adair has three books published, Passion’s Vision, Passion’s Price and Captive Spirits. All three books are available at Amazon in print as well as Kindle. Both Passion’s Vision and Passion’s Price have hit Amazon bestseller in their category. Both books are Native American Historical Romance. Mary did extensive research on several Native American tribes. One of her many sources is a book written in the 1700s by one of her husband’s ancestors. Her first book is PASSION’S VISION, a story filled with romance, excitement and danger. This story features James Fitzgerald, an agent in the court of King George II and New Moon, sister to Chief Dancing Cloud. Passion’s Vision won the Betty Hendrck’s award. Mary’s other works are PASSION’S PRICE, the story continued with James and New Moon’S daughter, Golden Dawn. PASSION’S PRICE is a poignant love story with a twist of humor. It is a next generation story filled with adventure and determination as well as self-realization and of course Romance. Mary’s newest release, CAPTIVE SPIRITS is a beginning to a Young Adult Fantasy series that also can be enjoyed by all adults. Mary believes that along with weaving a story into a written work comes a responsibility. She feels authors should express themselves. That is what being an artist and author is all about. But with that, she keeps in mind that words are sharper than any two-edged sword. She chooses not to write stories that generate hate, or foster desperation or pain for her readers. She believes there is already enough pain and desperation in the world. Mary thrives to write stories filled with hope, triumph and adventure. That is not to say her character’s lives are a walk through the park. You can, however, expect a happy ending. Mary hopes all of you eternal optimist, hopeless romantics, and lovers of adventure, from whom all good things are born, will pick up a copy of one of her books and enjoy the ride through the story she creates. Author’s quote: An author’s Passion is realized when that first novel becomes published and that first fan writes a reader’s review to share how much she enjoyed the book. How an author fulfills the Vision is all in the journey that follows.

Book preview

Captive Spirits

Book 1 in the Legends of Aztar Series

By M. A. Adair

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Mary Adair

Cover Graphics

IStock Photo

Fairy kingdom: Pobytov

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Author contact information: [e-mail]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Introduction

Aztar is a planet where no one remembers a time of peace. Fear of those who wield a mystical cruelty holds people as CAPTIVE SPIRITS. All that remains is the waning belief in a savior who will someday come to restore peace to a blood soaked land.

Zmeria, an ancient text recovered, brings a Prophecy to life. The leaders of each Region come together with a plan to reunite Aztar's divided people and make way for their savior. They arm themselves with the recently discovered revelation of peace long past. A dream is born and legends revived as Aztar’s people determine to fight the evil and Reclaim Aztar.

The Evil’s grasp is strong on the CAPTIVE SPIRITS of Aztar. Leaders know this battle to free the will and spirit of the people will not be easily won. They decree a King must be chosen. One man of the entire world stands out from the rest. Si, the firstborn son of the house of Volcum, is well known for valor and victories in battle.

A kingdom must be established. As the center of his kingdom, Si Volcum decreed an ancient, long deserted castle far to the north that contained the lost records of Aztar’s forgotten glory. He accepted his chosen bride, Alexis, unseen from a house as old as his own. Si ruled and the land prospered for fifteen years while evil silently waited. The King did not know when evil struck it would be personally against him or that the price would be so high. The people of Aztar chose well in their King. Si will not hesitate. The King will pay the price. From his love and chosen path, the Saga of Aztar begins with the legend of her first King, Si Volcum.

"Reclaim Aztar," will be their battle cry.

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to my husband who is my Knight in Shining Armor.

Special Thanks To:

My dearest friend, Caroline Clemmons for all your help and support.

Contents:

Introduction

Prologue: Evil Comes

2000 Years Later: King Si Volcum

An Alliance is Made

Alexis

A Gift of Love, A Bitter Task

Wounds Heal

Travel Plans are Made

Pray Your Escape Be Not In Winter

A Clever Ruse

The Journey Begins

A Mad King Plots

A Mother’s Love Knows No Bounds

Em

Ion

The Priest’s Lair

Evil Watches

Evil Comes

The Great Forest

A Wife Found, A Love Lost

The Battle

A Love Lost

Epilogue - King Logan Rodak

Sneak Peek Book 2: Cordea Returns

Other Books

List of Characters

Prologue

Evil Comes:

Ryasi Volcum gripped the stone ledge of the North tower as his eyes scanned the edge of the forest. Something evil approached. He had tried to tell the others in the castle but they wouldn’t listen. No one would listen to a servant, especially a servant with the sight. 

He hit the stone with his fist. Is all of Aztar oblivious to the foul wind?

Because of his large size, his rank cast him as nothing more than a servant. After all, his size made him a good shield to hide the tiny Royal Family. The Museth were the smallest of all the races and the smartest. It was being smart that made them special, made them the guardians of the Books of Zmeria. And as guardians, they revealed to the people only as much as they believed necessary.

Ryasi first admitted to having the sight a season ago. He warned the King an evil was coming, evil spoken of in the Zmeria. You would think a race so well known for its wisdom and cunning would have spared a moment to consider his words. But for his warning he was beaten and told to never speak of the sight again.

It is an abomination, the King proclaimed with each lash of the whip. 

There, Ryasi saw something. It was moving closer to the castle. The wide expanse of snow-covered ground between the castle and the forest appeared to shift.

Ryasi Volcum knew the sight was no abomination. The castle was about to fall. He had to save the Zmeria. He hurried to the hidden doorway and entered. He rushed through the tiny passage that ran between the walls. Finally he reached the hidden chamber.

The chill that grew from his inside outward held him almost immobile, but he struggled through it. There were so many scripts. He could not carry them all. He could barely read and had no idea what he should take. Quickly, he decided to let the sight lead him and began to stuff as many as he could push inside his clothing.

A pain of such magnitude slammed into his head that he dropped to his knees. He knew he was not wounded. It was a warning from the sight. He had to leave this place. He had to leave now! 

He stumbled through the darkness caused by his pain. He felt a stone on the wall that moved under his touch. A faint scent of fresh air drifted toward him from the small opening that appeared before him. He didn’t hesitate to step in the tight space. Immediately the stone slid back into place.

Warned by his sense, he knew the evil drew closer. He prayed he had properly shut and concealed the doorway to the Zmeria Chamber. Ryasi wanted to hide the scripts he held and return to do battle, but he knew he must escape with the writings. The writings would help his world heal and then prepare to battle the Evil that would come.

Ryasi knew deep inside his soul, what he did today would determine if his people would someday reclaim Aztar. He struggled with the battle that raged inside him.

Drawing a deep breath, he called out to Father Creator, Give me strength, Father. I will protect the scripts as best I can, but I can not leave others behind. As he turned the stone once again opened. Had he passed the test? 

Hurrying from the chamber he made sure he sealed the entrance. The closest chamber was the servant’s quarters. He rushed forward to the cot of Ambrose Zantar, the head keep of the servant staff.

Wake. You must hurry, it comes.

Ambrose woke with a start, but it took only a moment for him to understand and roll from his cot. I will warn as many as will listen, but how do we get out?

Evil comes from the east. Go out the door leading to the garden. Past the herbs there is a small gate. Just beyond the gate there is an entranced to the caverns. Go in there and wait for others to come.

Ryasi reached inside his shirt and withdrew several scripts. Here, take these. I have more in my clothes.

Ambrose looked at Ryasi like he was mad. We have no time for this. When Ryasi grabbed his arm, he insisted, Let me go, Ryasi, I must warn the others. 

Ryasi did not release his arm. Instead he shoved the scripts toward him. Take them. They are part of the Zmeria.

Ambrose snatched the scripts and stuffed them in his shirt as he hurried toward the servant’s quarters. 

Ryasi’s body shook violently and he knew time ran short. He ran to the King’s quarters and burst through the door.

King Elgin Isri was dressed and preparing for battle. I owe you an apology, Ryasi, but there is no time now. I see them out there, though I wonder how. I never knew there were beings in that forest that could hide themselves so well.

He tossed a sword to Ryasi, Take this and my family with you. I know you now. He rolled his eyes upward, Father, forgive me my arrogance.

Ryasi heard a noise and twirled. Behind him stood the Queen. In her arms she held Prince Elgin.

The King gestured him to hurry. Go now, save as many as you can. I and the Royal Guard will hold them back as long as we can.

The Queen, being from Romtha, was only slightly larger than the King and was easy to snatch up, babe in arms. Ryasi carried them both from the room. As he ran down one corridor after the other, always headed downward and toward the kitchen, he called a warning. Everyone within earshot followed him without question.

The corridor became crowded as guards ran past to do battle with an evil force they were not prepared to face and could hardly see. The sounds of battle hurried them on, some to battle, some to escape.

Ryasi and the small band that remained burst into the garden. He hurried them all to the gate and led the way to the caverns. Once inside precious few waited. Among the survivors were a few of his own tall and very large race, mostly female. The others must have chosen to stand and fight so the females could escape.

He looked about the survivors to count the numbers and the supplies. Like his own race, few men numbered among the Queen’s homeland of Romtha. The same was true of the people from Iskaria.

Most disturbing was the very few left of the Museth, the King’s race. Though the King’s race was the smallest of all the people, they were the ones that could read the Zmeria records. Protecting the records that detailed their beginning and taught them the Father Creator’s words became the bond that kept all the people together.

It was only right that a king and protector should be chosen from the people who could read and interpret the words. Now they were a people without a home. The Evil was planted firmly in this region. No one must be allowed back in and the evil must not be allowed escape.

The memory of the King’s words drifted through his mind.

I know you now. Ryasi wondered about its meaning.

The sounds of battle raged outside and were easily heard from their hiding place. We can not stay here. The men out there, he pointed to the cavern mouth, are dying to keep our people alive. We are no less men and no less courageous for taking survivors from this place. Go, take them further into the cavern. I will follow shortly.

One of the men from Romtha stepped forward and turned to the small, frightened crowd, I am called Peter. We will travel through that cavern. He pointed to one of many openings within the large cave. I know the way through these caverns all the way to Romtha. If there is no one within each of your races that knows the way to their own homeland, do not worry. We will find the way together. He then led the group forward.

Again the words entered his mind. I know you now.

Wait, everyone turned to look at Ryasi. Our homelands are separated by great distance. He pulled scripts from his shirt, Here, Peter, in case I do not return, be sure a person form one house of each region has a script. They must be protected and everyone must be allowed to study them.

Peter nodded as he took the scripts from Ryasi.

Ryasi turned and moved to the cavern entrance. Just outside several of the Evil Ones stood and glared in at him. Shock filled his every fiber of being. They were so close, yet they did not enter.

In his head he heard... Come out to us, human. He placed his hands to his ears. Did they speak to him?

He watch in disbelief as the bodies shifted and changed in color. Becoming agitated, they pointed toward the trees and the tree’s branches swayed and bent into grotesque shapes. Behind the Evil Ones, the castle remained in attack as the men ran out to meet the foe in battle.

As he watched in horror the carnage before him, he realized the Evil Ones had not entered the stone castle. They didn’t have to. Every man ran out to them.

Come out. Fight like a warrior. It would be a dishonor to you as a warrior if we come in and drag you out.

If you could enter here you would have already.

The Evil Ones screeched in vexation.

Sickened by the sight and knowing what he must do, he turned his back on the Evil Ones as well as the sight and sounds of his own people being slaughtered.

Ryasi hurried to catch up with the others. They traveled deep enough into the cavern to no longer hear the battle.

We need to stop here and rest. Ryasi walked over and took the Prince from his mother’s arms. Sit down, I’ll hand him back when you are ready. You need to rest now.

The Queen obeyed as if no rational thought was left to her. When she reached up for her son Ryasi handed him to her.

We must put a ban on the Great Forest. The ban must include the castle and the land around it, he spoke softly to the shattered group. Everyone must be warned to stay out of this Region.

The Queen looked up. We must go back. There may be survivors.

He knelt down in front of her. There are no survivors, my Queen. You must take care of Prince Elgin now.

What is to stop them from following us? asked Ambrose Zantar.

Ryasi rubbed his large hand across the top of his head and tried to make sense of it in his own mind. They would not enter the caverns and they did not enter the castle. I do not understand it. Ryasi turned his gaze to Ambrose, They can not or will not enter the stone walls.

Ryasi cleared his throat to address the small band. He was about to commit himself to a promise he prayed he could fulfill. My homeland is the closet to this place. My kind has always shielded the royal family. I vow I will raise a guard to enforce the ban on this place. No one must enter, and the Evil Ones must not escape.

The men exchanged low rumbles of mutterings as they gathered and sat about a small fire.

Ambrose was the first to speak up, So, we must travel only through the caverns to our homelands? He looked to Ryasi. Do you think the Evil has already reached our homes?

Chapter 1

2000 Years later: Si Volcum

The cool morning breeze ruffled the soft black curls that framed the plump face of the farmer's small son. Nuil leaned on the handle of his hoe as he watched his wife gently place their son in the shade of a nearby tree. Here he would play within eye’s view while they worked.

Life had changed after King Si took a wife. The war ended and, though tenuous, a welcome peace settled over the land. Some said the peace was written in a prophecy more then two thousand years ago. The farmer had paid little attention to prophecies. He had a wife and a child to bring up. When did any prophecy help him?

The morning quiet shattered as the farmer and his wife looked toward the sound of low thunder in the distance. From where he stood he spotted four horsemen. Dust rose, creating an ominous cloud that trailed them as they approached. They drew near and one veered. The farmer dropped his hoe. Fear griped him as he looked back over his shoulder toward his young son playing near their home.

Eser. he called to him, but the child was unable to hear his father's anguished plea over the increasing roar of the approaching horsemen.

Nuil dragged his wife along and tried in vain to reach his son. The farmer and his weeping wife stopped short as a horsemen crashed to a halt before them. Nuil felt the hot breath of the sweating animal.

He stared into the hard cold eyes of the priest with the knowledge he looked into the face of death. Nuil gripped his chest with icy fingers as he faced fear so great it chilled the blood in his heart. He knew he would not be able to protect either his wife or their son.

Why? Nuil whispered tearfully as he pulled his wife close and pressed her face to his chest.

As the priests rode off toward the castle, they left the farmer and his wife behind, the last of their life’s blood flowing freely into the soil they so shortly before had carefully tended. Across the neck of a horseman's beast lay Eser struggling to breathe past his fear.

***

Si Volcum, King of Aztar, walked calmly as he carried his son through the garden. He felt anything but calm. The pain in his head was growing. He had just received a report of a gruesome murder. The family lived on a small farm just below the castle.

How could this happen so close to the castle? He ran a hand across his forehead. The pain grew worse.

Lyon fidgeted in his arms. Calm down, Little Man. Papa is going to show you something special.

He held his son and looked up at his wife standing in the tower. He marveled at how his love for her had grown. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Gentle and kind and best of all, she had given him two healthy, happy children. Cordea, a girl, was born twelve years ago. And then, two years ago their son, Lyon, was born.

Much had been accomplished in the fifteen years of his reign, but things were about to change. He didn’t know why he knew that, but he did. He didn’t want it to change.

He watched as Alexis stood with her hands resting on the cool, stone wall of the castle. Her raven hair floated weightless as she turned her face into the fragrant breeze that drifted up from the ocean far below. Appreciatively, she tilted her dainty chin upward and breathed deeply of the salty air. Her eyes closed, and he imagined the long, sooty-back lashes kissing her ivory skin.

Apparently hearing Lyon’s laughter below, she looked down at her husband and giggling child. She smiled and waved down to them before turning to make her way down the tall north tower.

His head pounded. A shrill ringing sounded in his ears.

Something is not right.

Si returned the wave to his wife and then poked his finger in his ear and opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to ease the ringing. Lyon yanked on his long thick braid and giggled.

Si worked Lyon’s tiny fingers free, That’s my boy. Are you having fun pulling Papa’s hair? Let’s go look at the waves.

He tossed the heavy braid over his shoulder and turned to the railing that offered a barrier to the steep cliff. He squeezed his son gently as he pointed to the wall of water crashing noisily below them.

Lyon, look. Do you see the waves?

Lyon laughed with glee as the sound of the water crashing against the rocks below reached his ears. Everything pleased his cheerful child. What a fine man he would be one day.

A chill settled at the base of Si’s spine. Maybe I’m just contracting an illness. Maybe that is where these strange thoughts of impending doom are coming from. His sour stomach rolled and growled loudly. Yes, that must be it.

Si sensed a presence and turned. Four Priests of the Brotherhood walked in his direction. His family had always followed the Priesthood’s teaching. Alexis was uncomfortable with their beliefs and insisted the children learn both faiths and make their own choice. He agreed, so teachers of both faiths visited the castle and spoke freely of their opposing beliefs.

Welcome, I'm glad to see you, Brothers, He said as they approached. Each of the Priests bowed, showing respect to their King.

One of the priests, his face hidden within the shadows of his hood, reached out to the plump, happy child. With the fearlessness of the innocent, the young prince excitedly raised his arms to the priest. A strange chill gently touched the back of Si’s neck as his son was taken from his arms.

Lyon is excited by the celebration, he explained and rubbed a hand behind his neck. It is the date of his weaning. Another chill. He twisted his head to relieve the sudden pain in his temple. Today he passes from infant to child. We are pleased you honor us with your presence.

I’ve heard of no plague. This illness can’t be serious.

Another chill slipped over his skin and his uneasiness increased. Si finally looked up at this point to gaze into the eyes of the priest. Black lifeless eyes peered back at him. Seeing death in the empty stare, the King realized his mistake.

Before Si could react, the priest turned quickly. Si’s gaze, as if forced, watched the priest’s robe float slowly to the ground. When he was able to pull his gaze upward, both the priest and the child in his arms were gone.

Lyon, no. The crash of waves covered his anguished cry.

The King pulled his blade and leaped forward in one fluid motion. As he crashed into his closest adversary, he buried the short ceremonial knife deep within the villain’s heart. In his anger, he carelessly jerked the weapon, trying to free it from the man's ribs.

Who are these men dressed as the Priesthood? He felt the snap of the blade as he carelessly jerked the weapon again.

Damn. He swore as he dropped the blade and dove toward the next adversary. Pain exploded in his chest, his vision blurred. In the moments before darkness overcame him, he heard his son whimper.

***

Si Volcum woke with a start to find he was lying in the damp dirt of a dark, smelly cavern. He shifted on the hard ground and discovered his feet were bound with heavy chains and ankle braces. To his surprise, Lyon lay sleeping next to him. Si managed to push himself up into a sitting position.

He looked about the cave. The light was dim, illuminating barely enough to survey the small space. Across from him on the other side of the cavern were his captors. Only one lantern chased away the darkness surrounding them. He squinted as he peered into the gloom to study the men crouched about a small, smoky fire.

The men no longer wore their priestly robes. He tried in vain to hear what they said, but the ringing in his head competed and won. Lyon cuddled up against his leg and Si reached down to smooth the curls from his face.

The King railed against the injustice he endured at the hands of these men. And for what? Who was behind this abduction? The cold damp stone behind his back pushed moisture through his shirt to his already chilled skin. Silently, he swore. May Boc take your lives slowly when I get my hands on you.

He forced himself to ignore the pain in his head. He had to think. The abductors were of his race, the same race as the Priests. This was no surprise. Most mercenaries were of the Elderwood race. Their large size made the smaller races easy targets.

The Brotherhood cannot be behind this. He remembered the black hollow eyes of the one who took Lyon from his arms.

That creature was not of the Brotherhood any more than these men are. He forced his dull mind to