The Saga of Sordic: The First Dreamlight (Novel 1 of 4)

By R.S. Cummings

Rylan Young has struggled to cope with the mysterious disappearance of his older brother. Three years after the incident, his family buried an empty casket to find closure. But Rylan's life suddenly changes when he stumbles across a dreamlight, a portal to another realm, that was secretly placed in his room by two mystifying creatures with agendas of their own. He awakens in the amazing world of Sordic, where he finds adventure, new friends, and magic beyond his wildest dreams. After crafty counsel from the heroes of Sordic, he discovers that his destiny may lie within the magical realm. As he begins the challenging contests to become a future hero, Rylan learns that fate may bring forth the answers to his hidden past.

www.wix.com/rscummings/the-saga-of-sordic

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.S. Cummings
• Release date: Feb 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452444871

R.S. Cummings

R.S. Cummings is a chemistry teacher and tennis coach in San Antonio, Texas. He's happily married with a two year old daughter and another one on the way. Cummings' imagination has revolved around the mystical world of Sordic since he was five years old. In 2003, while attending Texas A&M University in Corpus Christi, he began developing the exciting, four-book adventure of Rylan Young. Since then, his fans have grown by the hundreds, each with their own theory on the many mysteries of Sordic.R.S. Cummings makes a point to write every day, whether it be a paragraph or a chapter. To get a better idea of the magic in his writing, visit Sordic's official website: www.wix.com/rscummings/the-saga-of-sordicTHE MAGIC LIES [e-mail]

Book preview

THE SAGA OF SORDIC

The First Dreamlight

Novel 1 of 4

by

R.S. Cummings

Smashwords Edition

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Published on Smashwords by:

R.S. Cummings

THE SAGA OF SORDIC: The First Dreamlight

Copyright 2011 by R.S. Cummings

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 both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal use 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 are 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.

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To view Sordic’s map and other very insightful references, please visit the official website:

www.wix.com/rscummings/the-saga-of-sordic

To receive exciting updates on Sordic events and new book releases, please email the series and request you be added to the mailing list. Sordic will never spam you!

[e-mail]

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Table of Contents

*The Magic Lies Within*

Series Chapters

Book 1: The First Dreamlight

Book 2: Masters of the Art

Book 3: The Warlock of Ajalk

Book 4: The Last Dreamlight

Book 1 Chapters

Chapter 1: Farewell, Brother

Chapter 2: Graveyard Guests

Chapter 3: The First Dreamlight

Chapter 4: The Saga Begins

Chapter 5: The Mansion in Sordic

Chapter 6: New Friend, New Enemy

Chapter 7: Hopeful Heroes

Chapter 8: Heroes in Action

Chapter 9: Things to Come

Chapter 10: Prep One

Chapter 11: Confrontations

Chapter 12: Intruder

Chapter 13: Test of the Mind

Chapter 14: Prep Two

Chapter 15: Grassland Security

Chapter 16: Mystery at Braunig

Chapter 17: Test of Power

Chapter 18: Prep Three

Chapter 19: Open Doors

Chapter 20: Extra Sleep

Chapter 21: Test of the Body

Chapter 22: Three New Heroes

Chapter 23: The Perfect Trap

Chapter 24: Face of the Enemy

Chapter 25: Revelation

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Visit the Sordic website to continue the adventure!

www.wix.com/rscummings/the-saga-of-sordic

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For Grandma & Grandpa Whittaker,

My earliest childhood memories of Sordic took place in your backyard. Thanks for allowing a safe place for my imagination to run rampant.

The saga began with you…

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Chapter 1- Farewell, Brother

Funerals are harder when the casket is empty. The other traditions remain the same. Black is still the popular color. Most people in attendance are crying in memory of the one not occupying the casket. The entire family is present, even those long-lost members that were almost forgotten until tragedy struck. And to top it off, a light drizzle blanketed the Red Knight Cemetery. Everything felt like a funeral. Everything except for the one missing component many were desperately trying to keep blocked from their already grief-stricken heads. The truth stood. The casket was empty.

It was a scream that made him disappear. It was the terrifying shriek of a woman that drew Nick Young into the woods that day. Only Rylan, Nick's younger brother, heard the mysterious distress from amongst the trees and lived to speak of it. Now his thoughts were haunted by the unknown events that stole his brother in those woods. Each time he replayed the day in his head, a new detail would reveal itself, yet would never lead to a useful revelation. As he stood at his brother's funeral, Rylan reran the incident once more…

POP! Rylan drove the baseball high into the cloudless, cherry sky. As the ball slowed to its towering peak, he sprinted toward second base and came to a comfortable stop after the ball found an empty spot in the outfield to rest. The opposing team's coach muttered something beneath his breath about Rylan's third double of the day. The athletic boy's smile grew larger across his slender face. He adjusted his cap back to the proper position, the humid breeze disturbing the way he preferred it during the short run. The cap played a larger role than that of baseball apparel—it also served as a means to cover the short, blonde hair he struggled to style in a presentable way. His other self-esteem issues scrutinized his lengthy neck and spacious nose. He only noticed these minor details because of the endless comparisons made between his older brother and him. But he had one characteristic to be proud of—his smile. He had learned that wearing his trademark grin held the ability to lighten any situation.

Rylan narrowed his light blue eyes as the next batter approached home plate. An hour later, the game was over with his team winning by four runs. As he gathered his equipment, he could see Nick saying some last words to the other spectators in the stands. He attended all of Rylan's games. Rylan knew his brother loved him and wished to show support, but he could never shake the feeling that Nick used the baseball occasions as an excuse to run his mouth. He was a natural socialite and could speak eloquently with people, a trait that made Rylan slightly jealous. Nick was a difficult person not to like and he had an infinite list of friends. Rylan had friends of his own, but others outside his circle didn't know who he was. Despite these hidden thoughts, Rylan continued to carry his smile as his brother approached.

Good game, bro, Nick said in his deep voice. He said that after every game.

Thanks. Talk about anything interesting in the stands? asked Rylan with a hint of sarcasm.

Same 'ol, same 'ol. Nothing really changes around Light Grove, ya know. Bucky said the paper mentioned something about fixing the baseball fields again, he explained with what appeared to be a forced smirk.

Rylan didn't respond. Bucky Aving was a neighbor of the Youngs he never grew to like. Bucky was a stocky boy that had more chins than a normal human. He always wore the same brown hat with the missing fastener, which he fixed with electrical tape. He worked extra hard to make sure Nick liked him. Rylan figured the story about fixing the field was probably just a ploy to start a conversation with Nick. Besides, the fields weren't in too bad of shape. There were no trees and the area outside the rusted chain-link fence was barren. Most of the grass was dead or dying, leaving an amber-brown shade in its place. The lack of trees left no shade to shield spectators from the relentless Texas sun. The games had fewer fans attending because of the summer heat that swallowed them after only a short time watching. Rylan didn't care. He would always love the baseball complex, regardless of its shortcomings.

Ready to go? Nick asked, tossing an empty water bottle into a large, metal trashcan. He stood right at six feet, nearly a half foot above his brother. They shared the same blue eyes, but Nick's were topped with dark, shaggy brows. Though only nineteen, his rarely trimmed face was misleading of his age, giving him an older look. Nick was easy on the eyes though—just ask any of the girls that knew him. He was a selfless supporter of the community and always willing to lend a hand to any worthy cause. His parents were unsure of the origin of his behavior, considering they themselves were never very involved in the community.

When Nick and Rylan began their walk home together that day, they did not know it would be the last walk they would share.

The dirt crunched beneath the boys' feet as the baseball field became a speck in the horizon behind them. The walk home was pleasant and took no longer than fifteen minutes in good weather. There were occasions when rain would fall during the short journey, turning the dirt to mud and soaking the boys' clothing until their shirts became another layer of skin. Those days made the walk longer. The majority of their route was along a country street called Cupet Road with wheat fields on one side and a small forest on the other. The wheat fields appeared to go on forever. Rylan sometimes found it funny that in his twelve years in Light Grove, he had never walked on that side of the street. The baseball field and his neighborhood were both located on the forest-side of the street, so the boys never had a reason to cross.

The wooded area was guarded by large trees that blocked the view into the forest. Only the perimeter was visible to an outsider. It was not an inviting place to go. The ground was covered in dead pine needles that served as an ideal covering for snakes and other animals. The trees were so densely packed that finding a safe passage through would be difficult. The canopy of shade created by the trees was the most noticeable feature of the woods. Upon entering, the sunlight was immediately blocked by the maze of limbs that hung overhead. On this summer day, a Young would enter the forest for the first time.

CLIKITY-CLACK-CLACK went the rock as it skipped down the street after being kicked by Rylan's cleated foot.

I wonder what's for dinner tonight, Rylan said out loud, not expecting a response from his brother. Mrs. Young was always good about having dinner ready promptly at seven o'clock.

I could really go for some of mom's… Nick was cut off before he could finish his sentence. Did you hear that? he said, more of a statement than a question. His muscles flexed beneath his clothing, a sign that he was truly startled.

Rylan brushed orange sand off his ear and listened carefully. It sounded again, loud and clear this time.

A woman was screaming from the woods.

The hairs on the back of Rylan's neck would have plucked themselves out of his skin if they pulled any tighter. He felt a drop of sweat form above the brow on his dirt-ridden face. His eyes met Nick’s. Of course, he thought. His brother had made up his mind about what to do. The boys were too far away from any civilization to run for help. Not a single car had driven by on their walk home. Rylan knew it was pointless, but decided to speak anyway.

Let's go get help. It sounds like she’s in trouble, he suggested as he made a motion toward home.

You go—get help and come back here, Nick said hurriedly. He stepped toward the forest looking for the best place to enter.

No! shouted Rylan. The yell took both brothers away from the situation for a split second—he had never spoken so loudly to his brother. You don't know what's in there. It will do you no good to go and get lost or hurt. You'll do nobody any good at all doing that. You don't know what's in there, he trailed off as he realized he repeated himself. He knew if it were the other way around, Nick would think up the perfect thing to say to keep him out of those woods. Rylan did not have the right words in him. Nothing could be said to stop his brother from going to save the day. He wished fervently there was another option but none presented itself.

I'm going in. I love you very much, bro. I will be right back, Nick spoke in a whisper. He gave Rylan a gentle pat on his shoulder and took a step into the forest. Seconds later, he was out of sight, consumed by the foliage that guarded the forbidden place…

And we must remember Nick for the loving boy he was, the priest's voice pulled Rylan from his daydream. His face was drenched in raindrops of assorted sizes, but he didn't wipe them away. He had been struggling to make himself cry, but all his tears were lost during the long search for his brother. At least the falling rain made it appear he was crying.

It had been an exhausting three years for the Youngs. Before the disappearance, they were a picture perfect model of a happy family. Timothy and Michelle Young only owned one house during their marriage, which was the foundation for the two wonderful children they raised there. They lived in an eye-catching home located in the upper-class area of Light Grove, a secluded neighborhood in southern Texas. The two-story house was a welcoming sight, with tall spiraling columns rising on both sides of the front door. The columns were clothed with cursive, Italian writing, a trademark of Timothy's ancestors from long ago. The greenery comprising the landscape of the Young's home was an artistic masterpiece filled with exotic flowers and shrubs Michelle handpicked herself. The vibrant hues of the flora mixed together like a thousand colorful pinwheels trapped in a tornado. The Young's home was the favorite spot for the local birds to reside. The pleasing melody of singing blue jays and fluttering hummingbirds filled the yard at nearly every daylight hour.

The beauty continued as you entered the home, filled with Italian artifacts and overpriced paintings. A tall staircase with a golden-lined rail filled the entryway. The stairs forked at the top, one way leading to the master bedroom and the other to the bedrooms of Nick and Rylan.

Rylan hated the house now. Each room was filled with memories of a time when peace and happiness inhabited the lives of the Youngs. Now sorrow and emptiness presided over everything. Pictures of Nick still lined the hallways, his face forcing Rylan to continually flash back to the last real time he saw that face.

I'm going in. I love you very much, bro. I will be right back, Nick spoke in a whisper. He gave Rylan a gentle pat on his shoulder and took a step into the forest. Seconds later, Nick was out of sight, consumed by the foliage that guarded the forbidden place.

All that was left was Rylan and an almost invisible puff of dust that was knocked into the air off his shoulder when his brother last touched him. He waited. His face was expressionless. He didn't even blink. Every second took an hour to pass as he stared at the exact spot Nick entered the forest and waited for any sign of his brother. He wondered if Nick would come out holding a lady that tripped and sprained her ankle. Or maybe he would show up empty handed with a few scratches from the brush and an excuse about being unable to find the screaming lady. Or maybe he would not show up at all. He held his breath at the thought. Was this possible? Once the prospect entered his mind, it stuck like superglue. Though it had only been ten minutes, he felt true fear. A treacherous feeling he had never experienced overtook him. Rylan somehow knew that he had seen his brother for the last time. The sun was only minutes away from taking its final dip into the horizon. It would be dark soon. His next decision cut through him with the sharpness of a fresh blade—he left. For an instant, as he ran the last leg of his trip home, the darkening sky became a lighter shade of blue above the forest and then went completely black.

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Chapter 2- Graveyard Guests

As the drizzle came down at a faster pace, the priest raised his voice to overcome the pitter-patter of the raindrops on the casket. The entire day had been much harder than the Young family anticipated. Timothy had an uncontrollable urge to shout Nick’s name, but he kept discovering the willpower to keep quiet. He wore a black suit with a white shirt, which camouflaged him with the rest of the men attending. Michelle wore no makeup because of her incessant crying. And then there was Rylan. He stood expressionless, much like he did when he last saw Nick on Cupet Road. He stared at the empty casket, his teeth slowly grinding as he continued to contemplate what went wrong that day. He didn't care what the priest was saying about his lost brother. He still found it hard to believe that it had been three years since that dreadful day. The events of the walk home from the baseball complex were running through his mind like a rat exercising on a wheel, exhausting his every thought until he felt a faint spell of dizziness. His knees went weak but he hastily collected himself once more.

The three Youngs did not hold hands and never made eye contact. Each one felt as if they were alone. Perhaps Timothy and Michelle were in shock and disbelief that they were burying their oldest son. Or perhaps they were burying their favorite son…

The funeral was nearing its end though the storm was only beginning. Here and there, family members were stealing glances at their watches. Friends of Nick had other things planned today, and most of the family would only visit with the Youngs for a short time after the funeral before continuing on with their normal activities. But for the Youngs, this day would not end soon. The gloominess would flood the thoughts of Nick’s father, mother, and brother for years and years to come.

A great number of people were attending the atypical funeral, which may have been the reason that Nick's family and friends had overlooked something. There were two mysterious visitors blending into the crowd. Their clothing unified them with those that were invited and belonged, making them difficult to spot. The first stranger was a mountain of a man, standing a bit over six and a half feet. His body was trim and rigid. The lines in the stranger’s chiseled body showed through his dark cloak, which seemed unlikely considering how loose-fitting the garment was. It looked as though the colossal man had the strength of ten men. The truth was he had the strength of thirty, easily. Other characteristics were impossible to observe because of the dark rain hood that shielded his face.

The second stranger hid more of herself. She stood shorter, an inch under six feet. The clothing she wore was a replica of her counterpart, probably woven by the same hands. For good reason, she kept her head bowed, for under her hood was a sight that no one in this realm would ever understand. The two strangers stood in silence, keeping their hidden agenda to themselves. The funeral was not the reason these new guests had arrived. There was a soul of the living attending the funeral that stole the full attention of the strangers.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… the priest said over the rain to put the final ending to the service. Three years after Nick’s vanishing, the Youngs found a sense of closure in this single statement. It was over. Nick was dead and life would have to go on. The crowd became a moving mass looking for the proper way out of the rain and out of the Red Knight Cemetery.

An unorganized line had formed around the parents of the deceased. We’ll be right over after we run home and pick up the snacks, Aunt Deborah said in an encouraging tone. A small get-together was planned at the Young’s home after the service to give the family and friends a last opportunity to express their sympathy. Not many were planning on attending the extended piece of the dark day, but the cemetery emptied out rapidly all the same. Rylan climbed into the black limousine with his parents and departed. Ten minutes later, only two remained at