Emrysia: Awakening

By C. A. Morgan

In this epic high fantasy, Aryelle, a luminarie maiden of the royal house of Ka'Andharra, Lureli of the Mer, and Eleanor, a fauen of the Aurrac clan-herds, come together to challenge the forces of darkness that threaten to enshroud the land they all love. Though as different as the reaches of your imagination, they share a secret even they have yet to discover. Come along on their journey across the magically shifting landscape of Emrysia, and into untold danger as it leads them closer to unraveling the mystery of their hidden continent, and their places in it. Suitable for young adult and adult readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. A. Morgan
• Release date: Jan 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311673107

C. A. Morgan

C. A. Morgan is a self-taught writer, artist and armchair theorist who earned her degree in Commercial Art from Michigan's Ferris State University, and calls Vermont's Northeast Kingdom home. She shares rural life with her husband and their five children, a mongrel labshepweiller named Fudge, a persnickety Maine Coon cat, occasional moose and seasonal livestock. This is her first published novel.

Book preview

EMRYSIA

Awakening

Volume One of the Three Sisters Trilogy

by C.A. Morgan

Copyright 2013 C. A. Morgan

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed and may not be shared or resold. Purchasing additional copies for each reader out of respect for the hard work of this author keeps prices affordable. Thank you.

Dedication

For Roger, Jordan, Christian, Katrina, Jaime & Lydia,

You illuminate my life.

Table of Contents

Synopsis

Characters & Language Tips

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Messenger

Chapter 2: Drawn to the Light

Chapter 3: Awakening

Chapter 4: The Darkened Path

Chapter 5: Wellwood Forest

Chapter 6: Out of the Depths

Chapter 7: The Stranger’s Tent

Chapter 8: The Laughing Lake

Chapter 9: Unexpected Guests

Chapter 10: Pain

Chapter 11: Disappearance

Chapter 12: The Omnicients

Chapter 13: Parting Ways

Chapter 14: Council Grounds

Chapter 15: Entrance Denied

Chapter 16: Truth Be Told

Chapter 17: Captive

Chapter 18: Scattered Light

Chapter 19: Let the Games Begin

Chapter 20: Humiliation

Chapter 21: The Prophesy

Chapter 22: Aryelle’s Gift

Afterward

Glossary

Acknowledgements & Author Bio

Sneak Peak at Volume Two: Emrysia Lament

Praise for/Connect with C. A. Morgan

Synopsis

Heir to the exalted Seat of Ka’Andharra, luminarie maiden Aryelle challenges both boundaries and abilities when she leaves behind her sheltered, tree-born realm. Saddled with the care of her young cousin, she traverses the magical, shifting landscape of Emrysia, making important new friends - and enemies - along the way. As their perilous trek leads them into the darkest of places, can Aryelle choose between saving herself and risking everything to become what she was born to be?

The Luminaries

Aryelle – (Beautiful Sky Servant) Daughter of Elazaryn

Elazaryn – (Servant Sky Father) El’Kandhar of the Empaya, Brightest Candle of All

Karril – (Laughing Light) Son of Kayanna, also Aryelle’s cousin

Leandhra – (Much Beautiful Music) Elazaryn’s first wife and one true love; deceased

Kayanna – (Beautiful Light) Aryelle’s aunt and member of the Kandharril

Ladhonna – (Song of Sorrow) Elazaryn’s second wife, Aryelle’s stepmother/aunt

Rachaan – (Sun Eater) Current advisor to Elazaryn

Gaelen – Commoner representative to Elazaryn’s council

Jonazat – A Naturra

The Mer

Lureli – Princess of Mer

Jorda, Crispin, Katri & Jaim – Lureli’s bearers

The Aurrac

Eleanor – Huntress & female warrior

Borrac – Head Chieftain of all the clan-herds

Nodd (Rogar) – Ostracized fauen; stepfather to Eleanor

Althea – Former favorite of Borrac and Nodd’s common-law mate, mother of Eleanor

Lavina – Althea’s twin

Accora – Aurracan High Priest

Torc - Patrol guard from the Upper Village

The Language (Empayan)

Words that end in rre or nne are feminine in form, rra or nna gender inclusive.

Double vowel ‘aa’ is pronounced as in cane. Syllables ending in ‘a’ or ‘e’ may have a

long or short vowel sound. A vowel followed by another vowel is long, the succeeding

vowel is always short, except when separated by an apostrophe (a’a). Then, vowels

may combine to create one long I sound, as in pine. The Common word for Empayan,

spelled Empa’ayan in the luminaries’ancient tongue, is pronounced accordingly. However,

when the second vowel is capitalized, both retain their original pronunciations. Ex.: the

city of Ka’Andharra is pronounced with all short a sounds.

An apostrophe in the middle of a word denotes that two words have been combined to create

shared meaning, for example Lumina’da is Father of Light ( more accurately - Light Father).

Lumina’dharra is a combination of the names for the sun and moon. Emphasis is heaviest on

the syllable immediately following the apostrophe. One exception to all previous rules is

children’s names, which in royal houses are created by combining (in abbreviated form)

parents’ names; Ex. – Aryelle = Leandhra & Elazaryn; Karril = Kayanna (pronounced

Kay-ah-nah) & Erildhil. The letter combination dh always receives strong emphasis; theh

is not silent. The letter combination ch has a hard k sound at the middle or end of a syllable

and a sh sound at the beginning."J’ can sound like a Y or J.

Prologue

Rainbow light filtered down through the crystal dome of the Prism Rotunda, bathing each member of the gathered Kandharril in a separate hue. For long moments, perhaps hours the elite healers stood unmoving, trancelike, wingtip-to-wingtip. On a marble dais at their center lay a still form all but obscured from view.

Suddenly, the bow of light recollected into one brilliant white glow, radiating up and outward from the center of their Healing Circle. Waves of energy pulsed around and through them in an audible, otherworldly thrumming. Just as suddenly, like the upstroke of a valleo drum hammer, a final heartbeat reverberated throughout the chamber.

Silence.

And then… a breath. And another, and another. Now shallow, but rhythmic they came, as from one deep in slumber. Gradually the light faded as one by one the members of the Circle staggered from their places. No words were spoken – none were needed. The assumption was complete.

The young luminarie would live.

On the observation balcony above, Aryelle turned away disappointed.

Chapter 1 – The Messenger

The tree-born city of Ka’Andharra nestled snugly into the interwoven branches of an ancient grove of valleo. Only here near the heart of Emrysia did the meandering limbs cover so vast an area. Smooth silver bark and platter-like, heart shaped leaves of yellowish green camouflaged the luminaries’ dwellings year round. Along the branches of the mother tree, the El’Kandhar’s residence sprawled in every direction. From central throne room to the gardens along the forest floor, its corridors twined over the oldest and sturdiest branches to sprout rooms as naturally as fruit. The rest of the city blossomed in clusters around it, prominent homes soaring skyward, commoner dwellings grafted onto the branches’ undersides, carved and chiseled, of crystal and of wood.

Elazaryn sat poised like a statue on the exalted Seat of Ka’Andharra, his vacant stare fixed just left of the defiant youngster before him.

He will not survive till dawn….

But Father, his injuries do not seem mortal, Aryelle countered.

His spirit is wounded beyond reach. We cannot help him.

You mean you will not help him!

I seek not your council, Aryelle, he warned.

And I seek not your permission! I will heal him myself! Aryelle cried out, squirming uncomfortably as the echo of her outburst crashed like waves off the columns and walls of the vast, empty reception hall and died away.

Slowly, Elazaryn raised his chin from where it rested between slender, bejeweled fingers. "Your love is great, m’yana, but your judgment is clouded. It is not yet your time of Passing, yet you hasten to enter the Gate without considering which way it will open."

But Father, she pled changing tactics, please, only let me-

I forbid it! Speak of it no more!

Sparks flashed in Aryelle’s emerald eyes. Her wings - translucent, yet leathery flushed with anger, quivering as she struggled to hold it in check. Hastily, she lowered her gaze. It would not help matters to give in to her frustration. That much she knew.

Long burn your flame, El’Kandhar, she managed though barely, the age-old response passing reluctantly through clenched teeth. Seething, she spun on her heel and fled the throne room, purposefully neglecting to bow to the blind ruler.

But other eyes witnessed her irreverence.

She disgraces your name, El’Kandhar. Elazaryn’s chief advisor strode forward from the shadows.

She is still young, Rachaan. A season or two yet may pass ere she be held accountable. Elazaryn’s face, unlined despite his age, furrowed with consternation. The thin circlet of gold resting upon his brow did little to conceal it. Would a season or two change much in the way Aryelle viewed life, he wondered? Would time alone tame her? With a sigh, he pushed aside his concern. More immediate matters demanded his attention. For instance, the stranger who had arrived last night with a mysterious scroll that he would deliver only into the El’Kandhar’s hands. The stranger who now lay dying in the east branch’s Prism Rotunda. The Kandharril had made the messenger comfortable, but nothing more. Elazaryn would not risk an assumption. The decision had been a painful one, but his alone to make no matter what his headstrong daughter thought. And considering the scroll’s contents, he must now make one even more difficult.

Mistaking his sigh for a sign of weakening resolve, Rachaan pressed the issue. Perhaps her time of discernment has come, El’Kandhar.

Elazaryn swatted aside the suggestion like an annoying insect. Turning away he beckoned a page, one of many ever at the ready beside the throne. A fair-haired youth scrambled up the polished steps of the dais and nodded respectfully. Though his El’Kandhar’s eyes unsettled him, he loved the old luminarie with all his heart.

Uncle, a joy to serve you.

Elazaryn’s face relaxed into a smile. Karril! I did not notice your watch had come. Has the morning passed so quickly?

I have just come from Lessons, as you surely know. What ever escapes you, Uncle? Karril kissed the proffered hand, which was smooth and ageless as his sovereign’s face.

Elazaryn stroked the boy’s cheek affectionately… and then gave it a sharp pat. Keep your tongue in your cheek, Karril, and you will always speak out of the side of your mouth. Your words may be honey to others, but I find such sweets too rich in my dotage.

And that, Uncle, is why I would never lie to you. I would hate to have you spew me from your presence! he replied, rubbing his jaw. An impish sparkle danced in his eyes.

As would I, my lad, as would I. The corners of Elazaryn’s smile quirked merrily.

Eh-hem, my Lord, if there is nothing further?

Rachaan? I thought you had left, said Elazaryn. No, no… you may go. I have business to discuss with this young scoundrel. Dismissing the councilor, Elazaryn drew his nephew into the empty seat at his right, Domina - The Heirs’ Throne. Karril shifted uncomfortably on the narrow, un-cushioned ledge. Neither one noticed Rachaan’s scowl as he slipped from the room.

I know you do not fancy your lessons Karril, otherwise why would you rush from them to wait upon an old beetle like me, required or not? The Illuminator informs me that you perform exceptionally well, though of course, you are easily distracted. But no time for lectures now; said Elazaryn in a conspiratorial whisper, Now you must do something for me. You must find your cousin Aryelle and do your best to distract her. She bears a yoke unnecessary for one so young.

She is no longer a child, Lord. She is older than I am by three revolutions. How may I ease her burden?

Not ease, Karril. Someday you will have burdens of your own. I would not ask you to bear any before your time. But you are young and, as I am well aware, able to find mischief enough to occupy much of this household. Take her to the Galleries, visit the hot springs or the aviary. Aryelle should take pleasure in her youth as you do while responsibility still weighs on other shoulders. Elazaryn clasped the boy’s hands in his own, his sightless eyes regarding him. You may be the son of my cousin Erildhil, but would that you were my own. Your carefree spirit refreshes me as no draught of blaiz ever has. Find Aryelle. Be the children you will be for such a short time yet. You can do me no greater favor.

Karril drew his hands slowly free, rose and folded his arms across his chest, bowing deeply as was customary. Then he leapt down the steps and skipped the length of the hall toward the great chamber doors. Long burn your flame, El’Kandhar, he called belatedly, passing like a spring breeze through the doorway of the hallowed hall.

Karril finally found Aryelle storming down a wide, polished corridor along the western-most branch of the royal complex. Her slippered feet were swathed in finest silk, though an iron-shod Aurrac would have stomped less noisily.

What do you want? she asked, casting him a scathing glance.

Nothing from you, he taunted, falling into step beside her.

I have no time for games, Karril. Aryelle stopped mid-stride making it clear she considered his presence an annoyance.

I am too old for games anyhow, he answered glibly.

Then what do you want?

I am supposed to distract you.

I do not want to be distracted, she hissed.

Determined to carry out his mission, Karril choked back a retort. I am sorry, Aryelle. The El’Kandhar thought-

My father thinks I am a child! I am sixteen revolutions – ready to accept the duties of my calling, and yet he shelters me as if I was still a clinging infant!

"He loves you too well, cousin."

His sudden sympathy caught Aryelle off guard, deflating her tantrum like a windless sail. She collapsed with a sigh onto an ornately carved bench, one of many that lined the corridor. Late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the amber leaves outside the arched windows to flood the hall with liquid gold.

Raised together like nestlings in the shelter of these halls, the cousins used to be close, though Karril could barely remember the last time they had played. He yearned for the easy camaraderie they once shared. Watching Aryelle now he realized she had almost become a stranger to him. Long, silken lashes shaded her cheekbones as she sat, head bowed, graceful hands limp with defeat in her soft-robed lap. A silken strand escaped the confines of her jeweled hairnet and brushed her cheek. Absently, she tucked it behind her ear and twirled it for distraction. Then, as if needing more comfort than a single strand could offer, she reached further up to loosen her hairnet. Spun from the gossamer threads of wood spiders’ silk and decorated with bits of amethyst set in hammered silver, its web-like strength soon gave way, and a luxurious sheet of glossy, chestnut hair fell around her shoulders. She shook it out raising her face to gaze through the window, but caught Karril’s eye instead.

-I know- his unspoken message resounded through her brain -I know-

Karril sat down beside her. His hands reached out for hers.

-Aryelle…- he thought.

-You do not understand, Karril- she thought back, looking away.

-I do understand. You want to heal the messenger who arrived last night. The El’Kandhar forbids it.-

-He forbids it because he fears what it will do to me.-

-Because he loves you.-

-But I am ready! I am strong enough!-

-The entire Circle has tried-

No! They have not! The Kandharril love too little and fear too much! her words erupted down the peaceful corridor and the moment was shattered. She sprang to her feet and began to pace. Their fear weakens them, and their weakness makes them even more afraid. How can they hope to illumine the lives of others when they themselves live in shadow?

But he is not one of us! Why should they expend their light?

Because he has come to us!

But we do not know-

We do not need to know any more than that, Kay! The Elders would have saved their questions – no! They would have needed no Circle! The messenger would have been at table by now, enjoying repast, the horror of whatever attacked him blazed from his memory... Her eyes shone with a distant vision.

Karril followed her gaze but saw only the passing shadow of a large bird. He shuddered and shook his wings open with a snap, startling Aryelle out of her reverie. She turned toward him, a look of profound peace flowering across her face… a look that worried him.

The Elders have passed on their gift to me, Karril. I must honor them by using it well, not hiding it under a basket, Aryelle stated calmly.

What of honoring your El’Kandhar, your father?

And who are you to remind me of that? You disregard our family name by behaving like a kitchen serf - sneaking off to cause mischief when you should be minding your duties.

I am not heir to the Seat of Ka’Andharra; you are! snapped Karril.

Not by choice and you know it, she replied. I can no more change my feathers than a sparrow, but that does not mean I do not dream of becoming an eagle.

More like the eagle wishing to become a sparrow.

But this eagle is not allowed to soar! Oh, Kay, I am so sick of being treated like a child! Soon I will have to marry, yet Father does not even trust me to use my flame.

He knew how she felt. Karril had the gift too, as did all luminaries to one degree or another, of assuming another’s pain before dispelling it into the ether. He longed to test his own healing flame, but as a still growing child was allowed to use neither flame nor flight. Aryelle had completed her studies, had excelled even. She was no longer a child. But still… Luminaries of old may have burned brighter, but their life spans were far shorter as well. If you spend your light too soon it will fade and flicker out!

The Elders cared little for themselves. And that is why the Circle is ineffective - the Kandharril care nothing for this stranger!

And you alone do, he said blandly.

Yes, I do! I care about all Emrysians. And I will assume his pain, with my father’s blessing or without it!

-Zu qualith kra’dempa! - Karril thought in their ancient native tongue, but to himself alone. -Dhe zu n’et dhruy nochta…..- You are too proud cousin! I just hope it leads not to your destruction.

The door to the Rotunda whispered open, its carved facade pushed effortlessly aside by a delicate hand. A slim, cloaked figure slipped into the light-filled chamber. Glancing toward the vaulted Prism dome, she strode purposefully toward the center of the room where a still form lay unattended on a marble dais.

What secrets do you hold? she wondered aloud.

-None that will ever be told- A second hooded figure had sidled in behind her.

If startled by the intrusion, she showed no sign. "Perhaps Rachaan. But perhaps not. The Circle has little to gain by his recovery, and Elazaryn already retrieved the scroll he carried. I know it spoke of a Summit, but…what else might he tell us?"

I do not know, my love. Nor do I care. He is nothing to us.

But this Summit -

We will send no-one! What need have we of alliances? The rest of Emrysia is beneath our concern. Are we not the Enlightened? Let those who have chosen darkness stay there, I say. If I held the Seat of Ka’Andharra-

As you should, Rachaan, she interrupted, and perhaps this messenger is the key. Elazaryn does not want him healed. Think! It has been far too many revolutions to count since anyone other than the Naturra have entered our skies. Elazaryn is afraid, as I have never seen him before. This…situation may help us restore the throne to its rightful owner – you! She wove her pale fingers through his dark and lustrous hair.

Rachaan grew thoughtful for a moment. Then grasping the woman by her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh, he turned her abruptly to face him searching her face for signs of treachery.

It will be dangerous; Elazaryn has forbidden it, he said finally.

Just as our love is forbidden. But it too shall come to light when all is set aright, she answered, taking his hand and stroking it like a favored pet.

Then let it be so!

Together they turned to face the strange, wingless foreigner. He lay supine, a position no luminarie could hope to maintain since voluminous wings, even folded, allowed for slumbering only on one’s belly or side. His short, curly hair was an unusual shade, and his pale skin was mottled with slightly darker spots, especially on his arms and across the bridge of his nose. To the Kandharra, whose long, straight tresses ranged in color from dark chestnut to silvery-blond and whose pale visages were flawless, the stranger seemed peculiarly malformed.

Rachaan scowled down at the outlandish face. The thought of expending his energy to heal this wretch repulsed him. Yet… the woman was curiously drawn to know more about him, and her instincts were worthy of attention. Certainly it made the threat greater. But they would deal with that when the time came. For now this andhruypa, this alien, might be useful, especially if the current El’Kandhar truly did fear him.

He is a coward if he fears this deformed little slug, he spoke his thought aloud.

The foreigner moaned and his eyes rolled back into his head. Rachaan and the woman both gasped. His eyes!

Before either had time to recover their shock, the heavy wooden door crept open once more. Rachaan yanked his hand free of the woman’s and drew his hood forward to cloak his face in shadow. Head bowed, he shuffled quickly from the room through an auxiliary doorway. The woman, doing likewise, followed close behind.

The curling tip of a juvenile wing appeared around the outer door’s edge. A tousled blond forehead with mischievous eyes peeked into the chamber. It disappeared for an instant, and then Karril’s whole face popped from behind the door like a turtle snapping at a dragonfly.

All clear, he whispered. Two healers just left. Maybe they were able to help him after all…?

They will only have made him comfortable, Aryelle said brushing past him and approaching the dais. Father’s orders were that none should sacrifice their own well being. They say he has suffered greatly and that to assume him would involve great risk.

But I thought that the Circle-

"What, this morning? That was only an ordinary assumption, a commoner injured by a falling branch. They left him here to die of starvation and thirst, if his mind does not eat him up first!"

How could they! cried Karril.

You see? They have forgotten the old ways, cousin. No-one will challenge the El’Kandhar, and this time he is wrong! Aryelle reached out to