The Dryad's Sacrifice
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The fiercest courage is conceived through the greatest trials...
The Dryad Council has given Ella and Eliza the greatest honor of their lives. They are the youngest members of their tribe to undertake the Initiation Quest. To prove their bravery and ingenuity, the sisters must place a single rose from their home on the summit of Mount Denth and then return to their kin with a vessel filled from the mountain’s sacred spring.
Their mission will take them far beyond dryad lands into mysterious territories with creatures more dangerous than they can imagine. When the sisters find themselves the unwitting guardians of one of the legendary Keystones, a simple errand becomes a battle for survival against one of the most powerful vampires in Sylvan history.
Alycia Christine
Alycia Christine grew up near the dusty cotton fields of Lubbock, Texas, with a fearless mutt for a dog and a backyard trampoline that almost bounced her to the moon. She fell in love with fantasy and science fiction books when her father first read them to her at age ten. Her love of fiction writing blossomed during her time at Texas A&M University. Alycia’s fiction has received wide praise for its unique characters and vivid storytelling. Her award-winning art photography has been featured in Times Square. When she isn’t writing or shooting photos, Alycia enjoys long talks with her husband, drinking copious amounts of tea, and coaxing her skittish cat out from under the living room furniture. Find her at AlyciaChristine.com.
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The Dryad's Sacrifice - Alycia Christine
The Dryad’s Sacrifice
First Novella of the Sylvan Prelude series
Alycia Christine
Purple Thorn Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The Dryad’s Sacrifice copyright © 2015 by Alycia Christine
Skinshifter excerpt copyright © 2015 by Alycia Christine
Cover illustration and design by Alycia Christine
Cover copyright © 2015 by Purple Thorn Press
THE DRYAD’S SACRIFICE. Published by Purple Thorn Press. Smashwords Edition. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher except for brief passages excerpted for review and critical purposes. Please contact Purple Thorn Press for more information. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Purple Thorn Press books may be purchased for educational, business, or for sales and promotional use. Please contact Purple Thorn Press for more information.
Purple Thorn Press logo designed by Alycia Christine.
Alycia Christine
http://alyciachristine.com/
Purple Thorn Press
http://purplethornpress.com/
ISBN 978-1-941588-31-4
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Information
Contents
Free Books
Dedication
The Dryad’s Sacrifice
Prologue
Chapter I: An Initiation Quest
Chapter II: Crossing the Gorge
Chapter III: The Fireforger’s Final Plea
Chapter IV: Gifts and Sacrifices
Chapter V: The Griffin Aerie
Chapter VI: A Desperate Journey
Chapter VII: Saboteur
Chapter VIII: To Arms!
Chapter IX: Of Love and Betrayal
Chapter X: Entrapment
Chapter XI: Crawhmongue
Epilogue
Extras:
Meet the Author
Author Interview
Skinshifter Excerpt
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To sisters, in blood, in law, and in bond.
Prologue
I sit with my good hand shielding my eyes from the cheerful light of the glowing lichen orbs sitting on the mage’s makeshift desk. I am too weary to feel anything beyond the steady throbbing of my broken leg as it stretches out on the bed before me.
Eliza.
The remembered sounds of war drown out my whisper as I stare at the blackness of my eyelids. I squeeze my eyes against the sudden tears gathering at their corners and sigh in frustration.
Why don’t you begin at the beginning?
Jocelana says gently.
I lower my hand and stare at her a moment. Her head is still wrapped in a linen bandage, although it is smaller than the one she wore the first day we met. She looks as tired and worn with grief as I do, but she smiles her encouragement nonetheless.
For a moment, I try to speak and hear no sound. Then all at once, the words come—tumbling from my mouth like a river no longer barred by a dam and I feel a sudden freedom in my thoughts’ confession.
"I barely remember my sister’s smiling face, just the sweet scent of her green feet when she would run through the grass and leaves without sandals. I think of her often, especially when the wind cries like an injured bird among the leaves of my birth tree at twilight. Then I climb high among the boughs and sing out her name in time with the rhythm of the distant whispering pines. Sometimes the forest will call back to me, but most often the trees and breeze simply stop their ceaseless swaying for a moment out of respect for that which was lost and can never be found.
"I seek the comfort of my home in my birth oak then—merging with its core and snuggling deep beneath its protective bark all the way to the roots in search of solace. Such peace is difficult to find even when I burrow so deep. And still the echoes of her quiet laughter tease me with every rustle of my home oak’s leaves.
It was shocking to see the lifeless state of her birth oak, and it will be more terrible still to gaze at the towering pine marking her final resting place, but I will make the pilgrimage between trees nonetheless to strengthen my resolve against our enemies. I will walk each spruce-length barefoot so that I can better remember our brief time together and tell others once again about the thrill of adventure and the fear of being hunted that early autumn day…
Chapter I
An Initiation Quest
Come along quick! You mustn’t be late for the Glen Council," our elder sister Qaressa urged us.
We had donned our traditional initiate robes, which were white linen and festooned with little besides braided green cord belts. Nevertheless Qaressa had fussed over Eliza and me in her usual manner—fretting over every little detail. Now we had to run to the meeting ground below the dryads’ sacred Millennial Oak just to be on time. Eliza was glaring at the leaves now stuck to the hem of her gown as we sprinted over the grass.
When you greet the Council of Sisters, be sure to bow properly and give your thanks for your admittance. Not everyone has the opportunity to quest so early in their maturing cycle. Why I myself did not quest until the —
Last third of your cycle. Yes, yes, we know!
Eliza said. We had already heard this story twice this morning after all.
Humph! Well, I never!
Don’t be cross, Eliza,
I said between breaths while precariously holding my skirts off the forest floor. Please excuse her, Elder Sister. She is just nervous about going before the Council, as am I.
Qaressa smiled then. No, do not worry, don’t worry at all. I am certain you will both do fine. Why, I remember when Gwinetha went on her quest. An absolute shambles that journey was…she didn’t even make the trek to the foothills of Mount Denth sol Dyvesé before she became so fearful that she had to turn back. A bad situation, if you ask me…
Of course I had not asked at all, but I nodded politely and tried not to listen as Qaressa recounted some of the more gruesome details of our sister dryad’s latest failed quest. There was no stopping Qaressa when she wanted to gossip.
I could tell that Eliza had a more difficult time ignoring our sister elder’s harangue than I did because her palms were sweating so much by the time we reached the Glen Council that she had to surreptitiously dry them on the underskirts of her white robe.
Ah, there you are, Eliza, Ella. Navaia thulus!
Queen Mother Betha Etheal said when we had positioned ourselves at the clearing entrance.
Navaia thulus, Queen Mother,
we greeted her in unison.
Come, come, approach for your counsel.
We both bowed respectfully to our ruler and then approached at a half-bow as we had been taught. Queen Mother Betha motioned us to fully stand as she and the Glen Council members debated on our merits for a quest. My sister and I were two of the best sproutsingers among the sapling-aged mages. That fact, however, did not prevent my own palms from sweating as they all methodically discussed each of our personal weaknesses and strengths in turn. Of particular concern was our young age. Most dryad Initiation Quests did not occur until the candidates in question had lived at least sixteen winters while I, as the youngest sister, was only nearing my fourteenth. Our youth was the single factor which had tied the council’s previous voting session and I hoped it would not bode ill for us today.
Very well, my sisters, what say you? Those in favor?
Yea,
said six of the ten.
Those opposed?
Nay,
answered four.
Let the votes be marked in the records as favorable for Ella and Eliza Etheal’s quest.
So shall it be,
the council members intoned as the scribe set down the outcome in her volume of the Leaf Records.
Very well, your quest shall begin at dawn two weeks hence. You are dismissed to gather any supplies needed for the journey to our sisters’ haven at the Etheal Glade and on to sacred Mount Denth sol Dyvesé. May the Creator bless you on your journey and may the bright spark of Aribem continually guide your path in mind, body, and soul.
*
Packing our basic survival tools did not take long; however, packing the nonessentials required far more deliberate thought. I finally decided to carefully prune small branches from my birth oak tree and rolled them into a fagot with pieces of older bark and leaves. It was important to me to take a bit of home wherever I went and this seemed the least difficult way to do it. Of course my birth-sister had other ideas and simply peeled a large section of bark off of a dying limb of her own home tree. I winced as she did so, knowing how much pain the act caused her and her oak. Somehow she finished the process without shedding more than a single tear and then joined me in packing our rucksacks for our first unaccompanied journey beyond Dryad Territory.
Our farewell the next morning was courteous but brief. We were brought before the council to announce the contents of our packs for the council’s approval. Once they gave their final consent, we expressed our gratitude and bowed our way from the Council Tree and the Glen clearing. We left the dryad fortress of Mount Sol’ece and trekked southwest through the Sylvan Forest. For thirteen days, our course was uneventful. Then we were welcomed by our sisters in the Etheal Glade and given shelter under one of their beautiful weeping willows.
At dawn the next morning, we left the dryad enclave by the South Gateway and ventured into the bog country, which was mainly inhabited by the naiads, ogres, and kelpies.
What is the point of taking the South Gate when our true destination lies in the east, Ella?
Eliza asked once we were well away from the enclave. She might be the eldest, but I was the best at navigation.
I frowned, looking between the map and the terrain ahead. "I think all dryads must go this way to avoid trespassing too deeply into the werewolf clans’ territory.