Splintered: Sierra's Legacy

By L. A. Wright

The world of Eldwitch was a hauntingly, beautiful world, filled with numerous races, and watched over by the Mother (Nature). When threatened with destruction by the impact of a rogue asteroid, the rulers, a race of flying magic users, were quick to come up with a solution. They would allow for the trajectory of the asteroid and weaken the fault lines that radiated out from the impact zone. This would splinter the world, and yet save their people. Each planet connected to the other, by a World-Gate. This allowed them to continue with communication and trade.

For thousands of years the worlds continued in harmony. Slowly, one of the planets began to veer away from the teachings and learning’s of the Mother. Going their own way and beginning to refuse interaction with the other worlds, they begin to breed only within their own world. Their greed and lack of respect for nature led them to create severe damage to the planets resources. The inbreeding caused mutations among them, with the most serious resulting in berserking. The planet itself was in danger of destruction, due to the abuse of the ecosystem.

The Mother wasn’t done yet. She had a plan to set in motion. Three magic users, born with the blood of all three planets, were necessary to create the solution necessary to reverse the damages. The Legacy of the magic needed, rested in the abilities of one young girl. Could she find the others to help her in her journey? This is Sierra’s Legacy and the story of that journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. A. Wright
• Release date: Jun 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458036704

L. A. Wright

L.A.Wright is an avid reader and writer. Growing up in a family of nine, stories were always welcome and expected. Besides working on her novels, she writes book reviews for her own blog as well as Blog Critics and The Romance Reviews.L.A. Wright lives in the great Northwest with her husband.Besides burning a candle at both ends and keeping up with her interesting family, she does a fine job of showing a composed facade to those who do not know her. Reading and writing are her main passions in life, outside of her family.

Book preview

SPLINTERED: SIERRA’S LEGACY

By

L. A. Wright

Smashwords Edition

*****

Published by L.A. Wright on Smashwords

Splintered: Sierra’s Legacy

Copyright 2011 by L. A. Wright

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 recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is dedicated to my wonderful children, Constance and Elisa. I could not have done this without their faith in my writing. I would also be remiss if I did not acknowledge the love and understanding of my husband, Terry. He is very gracious and believes I am the best in everything I do.

Chapter 1

Slightly light-headed, Ayla could feel a soft tickle of joy bubbling its way from her belly slowly up to her chest, creating a breathlessness that seemed to extract the oxygen meant for her brain. The light seemed to shimmer just a bit, as tears of excitement gathered in the corner of her eyes, forming a sparkle that seemed to brighten up every corner of the cave. Remembering a sweet melancholy refrain her mother used to sing, she hummed the tune softly as she waited for Geffen.

Hugging a new secret to herself, she could not wait to share her surprise with him. She was almost stunned with the excitement and wonder of the moment, and she knew he would be overwhelmed with joy––but no more so than she was. The tautness of her belly made the movement within more discernable. Even through her robe, she could see the movement, sharp and rapid, revealing not pain, but life. Happiness was making her giddy, but she was new to birthing and still afraid.

She wondered if this new information would make birth more difficult. Afraid, but determined, she considered the impact of the information, and what this new challenge might mean to them. Wondering how Geffen would react, she felt a nervous hitch in her belly.

A light scuffling sound brought her thoughts back to the moment. Hearing the small rocks at the entry of the cave bounce off the side of the wall, she felt a light chill. The hair on her arms lifted, as her skin pebbled with bumps in both anticipation and fear. She couldn’t decide which was foremost. Turning toward the door, she could feel her heart racing in excitement. Expecting Geffen to enter, shock made her gasp and begin to tear up. In front of her, were some of the berserkers from her father’s regime. The one in front was leering at her.

The painful lurch in her belly rivaled the hard thuds of her heart. Her fear was instantaneous as she glanced uneasily around. The cave was open, but she could see no way out of her dilemma.

Her voice barely working, taking on a husky edge, she stammered, What do you want, why are you here? Fear had tightened her throat, creating dryness and making speech difficult.

We want some of what the birdman got, the tall one in charge taunted. He knew his comment was crude, but the Eldwitch with their wings and ability to fly, made him uncomfortable.

Coming at her and looking her over, seeing the unexpected pregnancy, his leer turned to disbelief. He knew the unborn child must belong to the Eldwitch Keeper. Having a child with an outsider was not acceptable in his culture.

Look at that. We got us a chick, the big one in the lead said to the others. Disgusted that she had chosen to mate with an outsider, he considered his options carefully.

He pulled his weapon, the scrape as the blade left his sheath sounding unnaturally loud.

We’ll have to see if she dies as well as the birdman, he boasted.

That one was easy; he went down with no effort. Knowing he had no choice, and would lose the respect of his men, he was uncomfortable with what was required. To make such a plan and follow through created guilt. He preferred his berserker state, when all sense of guilt vanished.

Ayla could feel the hot cascade of tears that streamed down her face. Choking on her fear and anxiety, emptiness filled her stomach creating a hard knot of tension. If Geffen were gone as they said, she would have to beg. She was not ready to die. She opened her mouth to speak, willing to press for her life. Her words became a scream as the berserker took the hilt of his sword and slammed the pommel into her head.

Spitting on the floor, he cursed her, I will not allow such a foul deed––this disgrace cannot be condoned. He challenged his friends. She must be made to suffer the consequences of her action.

She felt blinding pain and saw faint shadows as the dimness crept from the corner of her eyes, causing dark spots and churning waves. She lost control of her limbs as her knees gave out. The coldness that moved upward caused her to falter and lose balance. Stumbling forward and quickly falling, she could see the grey uneven stone of the floor as it rushed toward her face. The eerie sound, as her head hit the ground, startled her as, the added agony caused the shimmering darkness to spread, creating small lightning flashes of miniscule awareness. The coldness of the floor held her consciousness intact for one brief thought. Oh, Geffen, what now?

* * *

Tiny shards of light filtered through the darkness. Each sliver stabbed miniature knives into her eyes. Trying to understand through the pain in her head was impossible.

Squinting against the glare as she opened her eyes, she tied to take stock of her surroundings. Where was she?

Why was she on the ground? Something sharp was wedged under her left shoulder. She felt stiff and sore, and very cold.

As she turned her head, more pain filtered through, pounding a hammering beat through her brain. Careful to move, trying not to re-create the pain, she felt like she was forgetting something important.

The constant throb of her head was keeping beat to the pulse flowing through her throat. She couldn’t remember where she was or why everything felt so wrong. Whatever she was lying on was solid, full of sharp objects, and she was cold, even more than cold. Something warm and thick was running down her neck, causing a slight tickle. She tried to reach her hand up to brush the feeling away but could not move her arm. She braved further pounding in her head as she again tried to move but found she could do no more than twist her body.

Fear was immediate, almost paralyzing. Realizing her danger, she found herself tied to the stone table at the center of the cave. Being unable to move to any degree caused her claustrophobia to take hold, as she began to retch.

The heat began first as bile tried to move up her throat. The gagging caused more pain, and further warmth to ooze from her neck, creating a burning sensation. Pain caused her to further focus, and she noticed that while she could see light, she could not concentrate on her surroundings.

In her fear and pain, she saw nothing but mist, although she could feel the dampness and frigid bite of the cold surrounding her.

Suddenly Ayla felt further pain––more urgent pain tugging at her belly––and a memory of something important. Her heart was thumping …thumping …in time to the pain from her belly, and she felt as if the pain was trying to devour her. A brief thought came from nowhere, a tiny cry, a gurgle, happiness and gratitude, and then memory slipped away.

Crying convulsively now, as claws of agony began to rip and tear through her insides, she felt fear, and with fear came clarity for a swift moment. She was with child, a child that would not be welcome on this world.

The punishment from the renegade tribe was callous for her, but for her innocent baby as well. Radiating from the core of her being, a crushing weight in her chest began to spread through her thoughts. That heaviness, combined with the fluttering of her pulse, caused her stomach to clench even further.

She was bleeding and knew she would die of blood loss. As grief struck, she also realized that if help did not come, the baby would be born, and left alone without attendance.

Feeling a weakness and lethargy come over her, she prayed to the Holy Mother, Please Mother, bless this birth. Geffen told me you are the Goddess of the land and see over all. I beg of you, do not leave this crime unpunished, she wheezed, as pain drew her breath.

Her hot tears ran unabated, slowly dripping from her chin, as the pain continued. As further discomfort, tears, and fluids released, heralding impending birth, breathing was no longer possible.

She felt a taut and devastating pain, the tearing pain signaling birth, yet as further tears leaked from her eyes, she knew she could no longer offer the protection needed. The shattering agony of disappointment and fear for her child only added to the grief.

Even as she sensed death through her shallow breathing and the consciousness she held to with just a thread, she could hear the howling and snarling of the small group of wolves that lived in the hills. Ayla felt sorrow knowing she had doomed their legacy.

Suddenly through the wetness of her tears and the despondency of her weakness, she saw brightness, a white light more beautiful than anything she had ever experienced. Within the brightness, a vivid image appeared, she felt as though she were envisioning a future time. She saw a kindly old man; he was holding the hand of a little girl. She could hear the child crying and calling for her Eldie. Could this be a child of hers? Was survival possible, and if so who was Eldie? As her vision faded, both pain and fear drifted away. Only peace remained. As darkness closed in on the edge of her vision, and the bright light faded, she was sure she saw the Goddess Mother smiling, nodding her acceptance.

* * *

As Geffen approached the Southern ridge just over the periphery of the dessert, he found himself anxious about the opportunity he could see for conservation. Water was scarce, but he knew he could use his magic to intensify the moisture in the ground. Ayla would be suitably impressed by the vast area he had found; the meadow remained hidden in a shallow pocket of lower hills.

He had run across the spot by accident, avoiding the berserkers still roaming the area. Staying out of view had been more difficult lately, he wasn’t sure why they were in the area by the cave, but he knew Ayla would stay out of sight.

Time for childbirth was at hand, and he wanted to make sure he would be in time for attendance.

She was anxious and afraid the insurgents, those that refused the new order, might find her, although over the last six months they seemed to give up. Recently, something had brought them to the area again. After this day, he would no longer be scouting until the baby was born.

With the World-Gate sealed indefinitely due to raiding, they were prepared to wait. Geffen knew if they did not help heal the damage, the planet would fall and disrupt the stability of the entire Tri-World Empire.

Taking one last look at the hidden valley, he noticed the clouds hovering over the Northern Mountains. They did not bode well for the weather; the clouds foreshadowed snow, the brutal acid snow, not even fit to alleviate the thirst of the land.

He took off at a run hoping to beat the snow, not once looking back. As he neared the summit, he saw a small group of berserkers, the renegades that had been eluding capture, coming down the hill. Snow had just started falling and he had to duck behind rocks, to escape notice.

The small group was laughing and talking, appearing quite pleased. He had a bad feeling, a hurt that felt wrong somehow. His heart began beating rapidly and he started sweating heavily. A tingle began, causing his innards to clench. A sudden chill raced down his spine and hollowness filled his being. As they moved their way past, he felt time slow as his anxiousness overwhelmed him. Rounding the bend, in the trail he had just used, they made their way out of sight. Uneasily, he hurried the rest of the way to the cave. Getting to their dwelling took longer than he envisioned, a blizzard had set in and he struggled with direction. The trip that usually took half an hour now seemed to stretch in time, as he tried to control his rising panic.

As he approached their shelter, his steps faltered; a haunting emptiness filled his chest. He knew something was not right; a strong metallic smell filled the air. His limbs felt weighted, unable to move freely. The chill continued and the silence seemed oppressive.

The area felt muffled; no sound escaped with the silence creating a barrier full of shadows. He knew part of the quiet was the swirl of the blizzard that had started as he reached the bottom of the hill, but this silence was more. Heavy and purposeful, full of intent, he could feel the Great Mother even with the damage to this world. He had a premonition of something happening, and he was afraid. Something was wrong with Ayla. He could feel the abruptness of the silence. His heart had gone still for just a moment and sudden paralysis made him fall to his knees. A strange emptiness created an echo in his chest. In his heart, he knew. Part of him had broken away, leaving a jagged tear, causing a sharp and burning pain. The abruptness of his fall had him clambering up quickly, something was very wrong.

Ayla. he cried. No, Ayla, he shouted running into the cave. No," he cried, as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and he saw the destruction inside. Here was the nightmare he envisioned.

Ayla was on the low stone table, her body stretched out with hands and feet tied, spread wide to hold her still during birth.

Without that, she looked to be sleeping, except for the blood that had run down her shoulders and pooled in her hair. The dishevelment of her robe seemed due to birth of the child.

Reaching down to wipe away the blood, he found her cold to the touch. Horror filled him. The aftermath of birthing was visible, but in his shock, he could see no baby anywhere in the cave.

Pain radiated throughout his body as he took in the scene. His heart felt as though it would burst from his chest, and he began gagging in his revulsion. Taking a deep breath to keep from vomiting, he understood he could no longer help her. He quickly turned, forming a circle; surely, they would not have taken the child. He thought back to his recent sighting of the berserkers, he could visualize them walking down the hill, laughing and joking. His child had to be here, the renegades had no bundle or other item with them, nothing other than the weapons they carried.

Feeling a bitter pain in his chest, he continued searching both the cave and the surrounding area. His extended search found no sign of a child anywhere. However, he found blood just off to the left, outside the cave. He didn’t see much, but he couldn’t be sure with the continued snowfall. The redness of the blood on the white background enhanced the despair he was feeling. Even the furiousness of the blizzard couldn’t hide the telltale hint of what might have happened with his child. He could see prints and scuffling in the snow, some of those prints he had difficulty understanding, but the wolf prints were obvious. Was his last link with Ayla gone? Feeling a sharp thrust as his heart took a painful lurch, pity and sadness overwhelmed him with despair.

He could hear the wolves that inhabited the area, and with his heart in his throat and pain radiating throughout his soul, he thought he understood. How can this be happening? he screamed his frustration and anger to the wind, feeling sorrow to the very center of his being.

As the scalding tears rolled down his face, and with a sob stuck in his throat, he slowly returned to the cave. He approached Ayla’s body, whispering a prayer to the Mother. Sitting, he pulled her body to him and smoothed her hair from her face. Holding her close and whispering his love, he rocked her in his grief, feeling the ache of loss in his heart. He slowly moved her hair back from her face, carefully untangling the strands as he smoothed the unruly ends. He used the corner of his shirt to wipe at the blood, which had already begun to congeal.

As his numbness slowly dissipated, he finally realized she was no longer in this place. He felt as though he too had died as he watched the scene from somewhere above, a vision he had never expected. As the cold penetrated his body, he came back with a jerk–his life shattered. How would he go on? Undone by the evil and viciousness of the murder, and even with evidence to