The Legend of Kimberly: Guardians

By J.R. Leckman

After saving her friend Serra from the clutches of the Brotherhood of Zor, Kimberly finds herself tricked into an alliance with the elven nation of Tir Lijis. Sent off on a quest with a human hating princess, Kimberly is forced to endure challenges set forth by the gods of Auviarra in an attempt to restore the Heart of Loris, a powerful artifact capable of controlling the weather.

Meanwhile, Trey and Serra stay behind in Tir Lijis in an effort to reveal the assassin responsible for recent attacks on the Royal Family. As the threat of war grows larger, their only hope seems to lie in Jonathon, a mysterious man with the ability to walk between worlds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R. Leckman
• Release date: Mar 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311943897

J.R. Leckman

I live in Colorado with a beautiful wife and lots of pets. I currently go to school for physics, but writing is my number 1 passion.Growing up, I used to think of books as windows that allowed me to peek into other worlds. In kindergarten, I cut my teeth on the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. Terry Brooks was waiting for me in 4th grade, and I have travelled many places since. I hope you enjoy the trip to the worlds of my creation, and am always excited to hear about your journey there.

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The Legend of Kimberly:

Guardians

J.R. Leckman

Edited by Anne Victory

[www.victoryediting.com]

Cover design by Georgi Markov

Interior Book Design by Streetlight Graphics

[http://www.streetlightgraphics.com]

Copyright © 2014 by J.R. Leckman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

J.R. Leckman

Visit my website at www.jrleckman.com

or Find me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/JRLeckman

Printed in the United States of America

First Smashwords Edition: February 2014

Dedications

To my wife.

For anyone who has ever dreamed of an adventure.

For anyone who has ever felt alone.

And the Gods, They Gathered

Jonathon watched Earth disappear as he stepped into Auviarra, the attorney’s office fading away like a dream. The clean, unpolluted air of Auviarra smelled almost sweet to him; it was one of the nicer planes of existence he had traveled. He stood in the forests surrounding the elven nation, the floating island visible just over the tree line. An elvish patrol passed by, unaware of his presence. He studied them intently; he had yet to see the elves of this world up close. Tall and well-toned, their ears stretched back, curving just slightly. Through all the worlds he had walked, the ears were always the same. It made him ponder if they were children of a prime race, much like humans were, similar shadows persisting throughout the different pages of existence.

Shrugging away the thought, he focused on the floating island several miles away. With a single step, reality rippled around him, his feet alighting on cold hard stone. Not wishing to miss what would happen next, he looked at the giant, decorative dome of the great hall. Reality rippled again, and he stood atop the building. Sinking to his knees, he peered through the decorative glass. Three people and a tiny fox stood in the center of the hall. One of the figures, a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and startling purple eyes, looked down at the fox beside her. Cheers from the elven people were largely silenced by the dome, so Jonathon sank through the glass, the protective enchantments bending around him as he fell several stories to the marble beneath. He landed softly, standing between the figures in the center of the hall. His delicate ears heard every heartbeat in the room, distinguished every voice; his mind processing the information like water through a sieve. Though the noise was deafening, it was if the words she spoke were for him alone.

Ah, crap, Kimberly said, staring at her pet fox, Ip. I screwed up, didn’t I? Ip, the ever-supportive fox that he was, barked in agreement.

Jonathon smiled, shaking his head. Yeah, she had screwed up. There had existed six possibilities to this outcome, one of which he had foreseen the moment the elves had found her. This one hadn’t been the most likely, but it would have to do.

The elves began preparations for the celebration to follow, rushing everywhere. Trey whispered angrily in Kimberly’s ear, causing the poor girl to turn red in the face, but Jonathon took no notice, for they were words he had predicted. He stepped around the milling crowds as they passed by him, a shadow amongst leaves. The sounds in the room began to distort, stretching out to impossible lengths as the flow of time shifted around him. Motion in the room slowed, ceasing completely as Jonathon walked, unseen, between and around the elves. Standing in the middle of the room, his ears popped as time came to a complete halt.

Well, then, he thought. This wasn’t entirely expected. He turned around, surveying the room. Fuzzy silhouettes surrounded him, forming a circle to prevent his escape. They emerged, stepping into the light, wearing vaguely humanoid forms.

The gods of Auviarra had arrived. The room filled with a heavy presence, each god exuding high levels of magic. Simply by putting them all in one place, the rules of nature that governed Auviarra had created a fracture in time, a moment that would stretch eternally until they all disbanded. Should they choose, the whole world would remain frozen for thousands of years, the denizens oblivious to their frozen plight as the gods conferred with one another. Feeling improperly attired, Jonathon willed away his trench coat, letting the fabric shift its weave into a comfortable cloak. It was a remarkable piece of cloth, allowing him to blend in anywhere. The gods murmured to each other in strange whispers, their words lapping along the floor and echoing off the halted landscape.

He still breathes. A deep, rumbling voice came from a man whose body was composed entirely of rocks. He had diamonds for eyes, diamonds that sparkled from the inside with immense power. He blinked, his gravelly lids making a noise like grinding stones.

And he should, if his identity proves valid. A woman whose body was made of fireflies stepped between the Lord and Lady Goreander, who were still standing at their throne. Her movement was unnatural, a result of the fireflies shifting places to provide the illusion of walking. He does not feel like anything I have ever encountered before.

He exists beyond my own domain. A little boy of perhaps three sat on the steps leading up to the throne. His shadow circled eerily around his feet, moving at a rate of once a minute. The pupils of the child’s eyes were shaped like hourglasses, sand trickling down their centers.

Indeed I do. Jonathon spoke. He counted the men, women, and beasts who watched, noting that only twelve were present. I believe we are missing someone.

I am here too, Walker. An elf stepped free of the throng, movement returned to his limbs. His pupils were gone, his white eyes glowing with inner light. Though you must understand that I have good reasons for speaking to you from afar. The elf smiled, the skin stretching eerily wide as its body struggled to contain Zor’s essence.

Zor. Gygas, god of the earth, greeted the elf with a small bow. Little flecks of dirt fell free from his shoulders. Well met. The others muttered greetings to the latecomer.

A coward’s entrance. Jonathon waved dismissively. Even if you had shown up, I wouldn’t have taken action against you.

What would prevent you? Lyndas, the firefly goddess of the forest, spoke with a voice like whispering leaves. Why not end this?

Zor knows why. Jonathon scowled at the possessed elf. In a way, I am bound by rules.

He misspeaks. The elf sneered. These rules that bind him are as flimsy as the rules that keep a woman from drowning her own child. The gods murmured to each other telepathically, but Jonathon ignored their uttering. Best if they didn’t know he could hear them.

Zor twists the truth. Jonathon crossed his arms. He turned to face Hydel, master of the Underworld. Hydel was built like a gorilla, his body covered in scars. His face was blackened with soot, and he carried a massive hammer. And what would happen to such a woman?

She would be judged. Hydel leaned on his hammer. Centuries spent in agony.

As would I. There are rules that bind me, rules that were put in place to prevent others like me from traipsing around and doing whatever we want.

And who would judge you? Hydel asked.

My peers. Let’s just say I’m not exactly on good terms with my own kind. Jonathon relaxed his arms. A spell was cast, once, by the most powerful of my brethren. This spell, which trickles throughout the cosmos as you understand it, is meant to detect what may exist beyond the natural order of things, namely our own interference. This powerful magic acts as an alarm, protecting all of existence from those who would harm it. Currently, much to the chagrin of my enemies, such a ripple is the only way I can be found.

And what would stop us from summoning these others? Fira’Eskedal, snake goddess of fire, hissed from behind the thrones. The air around her sizzled with heat as she stood up straight, towering over Lord Goreander. You create much trouble already; we would do well to be rid of you.

Trouble for some of you. Jonathon smiled. Many years ago, a wizard of your land discovered a spell for summoning those like me. Such a spell would be easily cast by any of you. However, I was the only one who chose to follow my curiosity, stepping forth into the land of Auviarra. Why not cast such a spell again? Simple; maybe no one would answer. Or worse yet, those who hunt me do so out of fear. If you were to call one, upon my discovery, others would be summoned. Desperate to pin me down, they would burn your world to the ground, just in the hopes of flushing me out. Our battles would be glorious, leveling continents and boiling away seas. Your best hope lays in her. He placed his hand on Kimberly’s backside. Perhaps they would see her as a potential bargaining chip, hoping to gain my surrender. Jonathon shrugged. Are you so desperate to see all that you know snuffed away like a candle’s flame?

Lies. Gygas growled. Even the gods themselves could not accomplish such a feat.

Who said I was a god? Jonathon scowled. Zor will tell you that such power is available to a being such as me.

And who are you, exactly? a woman dressed in white asked. It was the Sea Mother, her hair green like kelp. With every breath, the air in front of her filled with mist and the smell of the ocean breeze, bringing old memories to the forefront of Jonathon’s mind.

I am what I appear to be, but I have traveled under many names. I am the Rider of Storms, He Who Rides the Wind, the Unifier of Nations, the Peacekeeper. Jonathon lowered his voice. I am also known as the Slayer of Worlds, the Harbinger of Darkness, and the Bringer of the End. Jonathon smiled. I guess who I am really depends on where your loyalties lie.

Lofty titles, indeed. Zakas, the god of battle, chuckled. He stood twelve feet tall, his skin a golden hue. He drew a massive blade from the air, thunder filling the room. Should I test them?

Jonathon relaxed, letting Zakas cross the space between them with a single step, swinging his giant weapon overhead with both hands. Jonathon drew his own sword, casually, catching the attack with ease. The folds of his cloak billowed away under the pressure of Zakas’s swing, clearing the space around him of dust. Jonathon’s blade resonated like a bell, letting out a single musical note.

I suggest you resist your impulses, God of Battle. Auviarra will have to find itself a replacement, otherwise. Jonathon could feel the immense power building in the room as some of the others prepared magical assaults, eager to test him. The musical note persisted, shaking the blade in Zakas’s hand until he finally withdrew it. Jonathon silenced his sword with a thought. It is well within the natural order of the Universe to defend oneself from harm. You have been warned.

What would you have of us? Lyndas asked, her form flickering.

I am here to kill him. Jonathon pointed at Zor’s puppet. I would ask one of you to do this for me, but I am painfully aware of the pact you once made, a pact that, if I remember correctly, Zor suggested.

Zor’s puppet shrugged, a thin smile on the elf’s lips.

Jonathon continued, Unfortunately, unless he attacks me first, striking him dead will likely result in the death of your world. This world has much potential for good, and Zor knows well that I would not choose to end so many lives just to appease my own intent.

Indeed. Zor pursed his lips. The girl is his pawn.

She is. Jonathon gestured at Kimberly, her frozen cheeks still red with Trey’s words. Let’s cut to the chase. You are all in the middle of a new game, a game Zor himself has begun without your knowledge. I have entered a player of my own, with the sole purpose of killing Zor. Now, you may all feel free to interfere with my player; you are not bound by the same rules that I am. However, he said, walking behind Kimberly, any direct attempt by you to harm her will be met with, and harshly. Kill my player in this manner, and I will devote the rest of my time here to eliminating those who were complicit in such a deed. So don’t let Zor talk you into something foolish; make him do his own dirty work. He stepped in front of Kimberly, gazing into her eyes. This girl is from Earth, and that is why I may use her as my own pawn in this game. Her lineage is such that I may guide her choices, though I may not make them for her. I am not, however, allowed to interact freely with your players in this game. Such an act could be seen as interference, and I will not risk being found by the others. Should your agents end her life, then I would have no choice but to leave, my feud with Zor temporarily ended. In reality, I play this game giving only my guidance and protection.

And how would she go about killing me? Zor smiled oddly. She is, after all, simply a mortal.

That’s a surprise. Jonathon smiled back. I wouldn’t want to spoil the ending of the story for you.

And if she attacks me? Zor approached Kimberly. Would this be considered against your rules?

As long as she knows your true identity beforehand, then I would respect your battle. Jonathon sighed. I would not interfere, allowing the girl to fall to her fate. All I ask is a fair chance to play this game with you, gods of Auviarra. I wish to be treated no differently in these matters. Besides, no matter what happens, your god of War will find plenty of blood to satisfy his lust. A war is coming, one that will mark Auviarra with its scars for many years to come.

Zakas nodded contently, a look of grim respect on his face, before vanishing from sight. The other gods, complacent with the terms, also vanished. Eventually, the elf possessed by Zor was all that remained.

Your game is foolish, Zor said. You are unaware of the power I possess here, the years I have devoted to building my resources. The girl will not live long.

You will underestimate her, and she will kill you because of it. Jonathon crossed his arms. As fate unwinds her strings, I gently pluck them that the song they play pleases me, until the day your corpse is little more than ash. Let our game begin, you festering excuse for a god.

Zor sneered, his skin bursting into flame. Jonathon watched in anger as the body of the elf was reduced to ashes. Jonathon waved a hand, dispersing the remains from view. He faced Kimberly.

You can do it. I believe in you. Moving out of the way, he watched as time started once more.

Death Sentence

Captain Vellis stood near the flames of the funeral pyre, his eyes welling up as the painful smoke threatened to choke him. Near his side, the Prophet of the Brotherhood wailed in mourning for their fallen leader, her father Griklin. Forbidden by the Prophet to speak, Vellis had obeyed her orders to stay near her side in her time of grief.

It had been strange. Never having spent much time near the Prophet, he had a tough time reading the young woman. Able to commune directly with their god, Zor, she was the only female allowed a place of power amongst the Brotherhood. He wasn’t certain if it was her unique perspective over human life, or if she grieved differently than most, but the Prophet at times seemed to let slip her mask of grief, her eyes displaying the kind of hunger that would mark a man as dangerous.

He shook his head. Such thoughts were blasphemy. He gazed into the flame of the bonfire; a scouting party had returned with the High Priest Griklin’s body; it had taken their best wizards almost a day to remove it from the rubble. Wrapped in ceremonial cloths, he had been placed atop a wooden litter, borne on the backs of several subhuman races they had collected for the occasion. Forcing them to obey through the use of her magic, the slaves had been forced to bear the brunt of the flames until their bodies had crumbled to ash. A fitting send-off for their noble leader.

The Brotherhood stretched, thousands deep, in every direction. The Prophet, under Zor’s orders, had insisted the Brotherhood go into hiding in the Halden Chasm, but not out of fear. Instead, it was necessary for the power of the Brotherhood to grow away from prying eyes, for the time of the Great War was at hand.

Vellis looked down at his new limb, flexing the gold and silver of his new hand. The girl Kimberly, in a stroke of luck, had managed to sever his arm from his body not once, but twice. The new arm was made of something stronger, something that resisted the poison Kimberly’s accursed blade had left behind. It was a gift to Vellis, for the Prophet still had use of him.

The wailing soon grew into a chant, a prayer to Zor to guard their beloved leader in the afterlife. His soul would not dwell in the realm of the god of death, Hydel. Instead, Zor had set aside a palace for his faithful, a land of eternal rest and bliss in his temple among the stars.

Hours passed, the faithful each taking their turn near the flames’ edge, offering tokens and prayers to the flames. They then lined up to kneel before the Prophet, who marked their foreheads with the ashes of the funeral pyre. As they swore their fealty, she blessed them in the name of Zor.

The sun had been setting as the pyre was lit. As it rose over the deep chasm, many men still waited to swear allegiance and be marked with the ashes of their fallen leader. The ritual continued for hours, the Prophet patient with her men. Eventually, the ashes ran out, so the remaining soldiers took their turns long enough to kneel before their new leader. The sun fell low in the sky again, and after some time the crowds dispersed, readying their camp to move on. Battle plans had long ago been drawn and were now being set into motion. The lands of Auviarra would fall several at a time, communication