Ascent of the Fallen: Chronicles of the Way & the Darkness Book I

By Travis A. Chapman

Lord Fallondon Breck must make a choice: watch his inheritance fall away into ruin, or rejoin the crusade for the Holy Land and win back his former fame and prosperity. However, unseen events and the spiritual forces of darkness are unfolding around him and his band of knights. As demonic foes prepare to unleash their evil designs upon old England, will Fallon have what is takes to come through for his friends, his family, and himself? Will he lean into his faith, of run away from it? Even more important, can his heart be rescued?

If you liked Kingdom of Heaven, Robin Hood, or Ironclad, you'll love this group of brothers and their heroic exploits. I'm influenced by military-fantasy like Glen Cook's The Black Company as well as clean fantasy like C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia. If you enjoyed Frank Peretti, Ted Dekker, or Karen Hancock's treatment of the veil between reality and the spiritual realms, you'll stay up turning pages! Join Lord Fallondon Breck and his band of knights as they journey through perilous times in the Chronicles of the Way & the Darkness, the debut series by Travis A. Chapman.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travis A. Chapman
• Release date: Jul 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370706761

Travis A. Chapman

Travis A. Chapman is trying his best to be Teddy Roosevelt, Edmond Dantes, and Indiana Jones all at once, a Renaissance man of multiple talents and a lifelong experience collector. In various forms, he's a follower of Jesus, U.S. Naval Academy graduate, submarine officer, engineer, author, blue-water and coastal sailor, hiker, rocker-of-the-Renn-Fest, dog-lover, and loving husband. He's doing his best to enjoy living in the horse-country of Maryland, watching the wind whistle through the trees, and can occasionally be found sailing the Middle River. I love writing clean fantasy and sci-fi influenced by my own experiences in the military and other spheres. I am still mentored by the writings of C.S. Lewis'; Chronicles of Narnia, and hope to provide another voice of inspiration for a wide world. I have several works in progress, including Books II and III of the Chronicles of Outremer, a prequel short story, several other series, and some non-fiction books. You can check out more of my work and perspectives on part-time authorship at my website: www.thoriumpublishing.com Sign up for the highly infrequent but completely worth reading newsletter, check out how the Chronicles of Outremer came to be, and see what else is stewing in the pot. You can also check out more frequent updates on all things inspiring, interesting, and author-related at my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/thoriumpublishing/ Thank you for checking out my author page! I hope you enjoy the journey of faith and discovery with Lord Fallondon Breck and his company of knights. Stay tuned for more!

Book preview

Ascent of the Fallen

Chronicles of the Way & the Darkness: Book I

Travis A. Chapman

++ ++ ++ ++ ++ ++ ++ ++

© 2017 Travis A. Chapman

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying form without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews and pages where attribution is specifically made to the publisher or author in accordance with copyright law.

ISBN: 9781370706761

This book is published without Digitals Rights Management protection in place. Please use responsibly.

Books may be purchased by contacting the publisher at: www.thoriumpublishing.com

Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey Designs

Editor: Nicole Gingrich

Publisher: Thorium Publishing (via Smashwords, Inc.)

Second Edition

Remember to head over to Thorium Publishing to get access to my free stuff! Sign up for my infrequent newsletter and you’ve got a seat at the knight’s table!

Prologue

In 1099 A.D., at the close of the First Crusade, Jerusalem was taken by Christian armies. It was the crown jewel of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, the Kingdom of Heaven. Outremer. The crusader states, established by ambitious men, would rule the Levant for decades.

Jerusalem was lost to these crusaders in September of 1187 A.D. The Kingdom of Heaven began to fall.

Knights and pilgrims from all across Europe returned home to poverty, waste, and corruption. Many returned wounded, some visible, others of the mind and spirit. Inner demons twisted the hearts of men. Only now did they realize everything lost in Outremer. In the midst of such turmoil the spiritual forces of darkness prepare to move.

++ ++ ++ ++ ++

…God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell, and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness, to be kept until the judgment… 2 Peter 2:4-5

The Veil

Two white spots emerged in the deep blackness. A blink revealed them to be luminescent eyes. A second pair bloomed beside the first. As the owners walked into a dim redness, their forms became apparent. It was easy to see how the first pair of eyes betrayed him; his ebony skin blended into the cave’s darkness. Josephial grew weary of waiting in that pitch black. His companion, a sister of their angelic order, was equally restless. It had taken many days of searching and observation to reach this spot, deep in the foundations of Creation and adjacent to the thinning Veil. The milky barrier hung like a tapestry between the spiritual realm of Beriah occupied by Josephial and angels like him, and the firmness and substance that defined the world of men. Created in God’s vision of a whole universe, but of a different substance, the Veil kept men out of the heavenlies. It was a sheer and mercurial division between worlds. No one but its maker knew how to describe its dimensions; words like thickness didn’t suit it. Being this close to a fold, they felt the pulsing energy of the barrier. They also felt an inherent holiness of the thing; a rightness that the Veil simply existed. Knowing their target lay around the next bend in the tunnel puzzled the angel.

Why would the Fallen set up a stronghold so close to the Veil? Josephial asked. His frustration blossomed in the form of angelic light.

Watch yourself, friend, whispered a soft voice beside him.

Josephial knew the light would betray them. He willed his natural brightness to dim. Better concealed, he inched forward into the darkness.

Call them what they are, Josephial. Demons. They are no longer like us. You know as well as I that our lost kindred are always about some deception, his companion said. Whysper dimmed her own light in response to Josephial’s actions. Her radiance would overwhelm a mortal. This deep in Beriah it was like a second moon shining in the night. Maintaining this state would require additional concentration from both, making an already hard task much harder.

I agree, but it feels wrong. Like the sea pulling back before a wave crashes. Fewer and fewer of the Fallen are lurking around where we expect them, and more and more where we do not. And now we find one of our own so far from home.

No doubt delayed by his mission of discovery and a prudent attempt at discretion. Whysper smiled, knowing that discretion wasn’t something Josephial or their missing companion practiced all too often.

Well, I’ll be happier once we’re out. Although, maybe we’ll find some fun too. Josephial winked. His hand slid near the sword hanging from his belt. By now their garments were no different than cotton homespun from any crofter’s farm, no longer showing any hint of the glory hidden beneath. His sword, also dimmed, was no different than any mortal soldier’s steel.

Josephial’s smile vanished as red-tinged light filled the darkness. Coming out from the bend, the pair saw their destination ahead. A small circle of light, harsh compared to their own, grew steadily as they approached. As they slowed and crept toward what became an opening to a cavern, their breath fell away. While hard to imagine, there is a place where infinite darkness exists alongside such stunning light that the mind wanders. Deep in places where no living thing has delved for millennia a light bloomed in the darkness.

Far below the lip of the tunnel’s edge was a natural cave. Its size defied belief as hundreds of evil creatures scurried about far below. The red light came from lines of forges, cut into the natural bedrock and fired by a mix of volcanic springs, noxious gases, and wicked thaumaturgy. The sound of ringing hammers filled the air with a disjointed choir of voices. Hundreds of smiths pounded material into various forms. Armor, weapons, and engines of war lay piled everywhere. The collective vibration shook the angels where they lay crouched, looking over the vast works. But worse was the sight of the Fallen themselves.

Angels who had rebelled in the Great War. These were creatures whose lust and pride provided sufficient means to break creation and disfigure themselves. Once they were inherently beautiful. Now they were twisted and broken, powerful in strength and wickedness, full of malice and deceit. Their forms were as changed as their souls. Yet here they were, gathered in numbers formerly unheard of. Preparing for war. Companies of demons stood in ranks, drilling and exercising their tactics and movements. Great beasts filled the cavern ceiling, perched in darkness but wholly present and watching. Like all of creation, this horde of forsaken angels was wonderfully diverse in shape and form, yet now twisted and broken. And enraged. Josephial sensed the activities below were being directed, as if part of some martial plan.

Josephial looked at Whysper with concern. Was this what we’ve been missing? Unspoken words flowed between them. He recognized the need for restraint. Their enemy was close. It wouldn’t take much for the smallest sound to amplify and betray their vantage point. If they fell here, who would bring warning to the faithful above? Shaking his head, he quietly spoke out, Dear God, whoever gathered them doesn't mean to control them; he means to unleash them. It’s more than a full cohort down there. I recognize some. But where is Adonael? Why was he delayed?

A small sigh escaped from Whysper’s mouth. She was looking into a far corner of the cavern, her expression saying everything that Josephial feared.

Across the vast expanse of cavern was a pinnacle of rock, standing proud in the midst of forges and busyness. The stalagmite was hardly recognizable. A flat top had been hacked apart, leaving a stone altar in its center. Stairs spiraled down to the floor below. The unlikely form of Adonael lay bound on the altar.

Josephial would have known his brother in any circumstance. Their bonds were forged before time itself began, two of the first angels crafted from the Creator’s hands. Only human twins would understand the indescribable connection shared between two who came from one. Yet it took seeing him laid across the slab to truly understand the depth of his emotions. Rage erupted from his core, nearly escaping his lips. His quivering form shook the stone around Whysper, lying prone next to him. An observer would have noticed the tiniest grains of sand vibrating around Josephial’s form.

He stuttered while trying to contain his anger, I…I…he can’t be—

Quiet. Now. Whysper commanded, a hand slipping over his shoulder, prepared to reach his mouth to silence anything further. Her authority struck him from distraction, but he was hardly in control of himself.

Looking over the edge, she couldn’t determine if the buzz of activity was due to their presence. Thus far, there was no indication that their position was compromised. But she worried how long that could last. Her fears were sparked anew once an adolescent voice pierced the din below them.

My companions. My brothers and sisters in exile. Behold the gateway to our freedom. Behold the threshold of our escape, our satisfaction, and the revenge we so long craved.

The demons below them began to direct their attention to the altar, toward the sound of the voice. A dark spot clouded the platform, like ink dropped into water, swirling around the air behind the prone angel strapped to the stone slab. It seemed like the blackness existed only to draw the light inside itself, to obliterate light from the world.

In the midst of this blackness the dim, red form of a demon emerged. Tall and thin, the wisp of a figure was wrapped in darkness like a cloak. It strode across the platform while locking eyes with the masses. A tooled sword hung at his side, and his black armor was hardly recognizable from the whorls flowing beside him. The pale face which crowned his body displayed a malice that cut through the air; hatred and evil tainting the air everywhere. Josephial breathed in and caught the lingering scent of hatred.

Azrael. Josephial made to stand, and Whysper’s grip almost slipped away. She could hardly contain him. Strength rippled through his body, threatening to escape like a bound spring.

Please, Josephial, now is neither the time nor place, she whispered.

The horde below had slowly formed into ranks, and order appeared in the chaos. File upon file of creatures aligned. Small imps, scaly flesh over their child-like forms. Great man-like creatures, their red-hued skin enveloping muscle and strength, towering over their peers. Serpents out of a mortal nightmare, their shimmering scales flashing in the din below, fangs dripping with venom, great wings folded in anticipation. Evil instruments of power clutched in the hands of ephemeral spirits. Gazes full of hatred locked on their commander. A shard of metal appeared in his raised hand.

Now, behold, the hour of our wicked glory. Slake your hatred on the world of our great enemy and his creation. You know your orders; you have waited millennia for this. Reap the fields and sow them with blood. Find the Map of the Stars; without it, the seals will never be found. We are the chosen among thousands, chosen to lead our great master’s cohorts across the world. Innocence is no more; find the faithful and break them With his last words, a silver gleam caught on the dagger he held. It swept down upon the prisoner without hesitation or pause.

A piercing cry broke free of Josephial’s form. It was overpowered by the force of the inaudible wave washing over the cavern.

Adonael’s body went limp, and a peel of thunder tore through the air. The whorls of darkness coalesced around a single nexus, a point that threatened to suck in everything. Smoke from the forges, breath from lungs, dust. In an instant, a gate opened. A portal twenty feet tall, wide enough for four horses abreast, was simply… created. Out of nothing, it stood proud atop the platform where the altar once was. No sign any longer of the sacrifice made. Shimmering letters shone out all along the archway of gritty sandstone. The pulsing light indicated their sorceries, their nature powering the gateway. Inside that archway was a whirlpool of darkness, drawing light spinning into its center, a great cataract of energy.

Whysper now understood. Josephial was one of the first of the created, a witness to the origins of man’s universe. His brother’s blood must contain some remnant of that creative force, that power available to their Creator. Now it was used to construct this engine, an engine with a sinister purpose: to deliberately tear the Veil. Whysper couldn’t contrive how the demon had done such a thing. Killing an angel was no easy feat. Even during the war there had been few true losses. What weapons existed to do such things had long since been broken. To kill an angel was to effectively un-create, to cast into nothingness. Oblivion.

Thinking quickly, she cast herself over Josephial, wrapping her hand around his mouth, stifling further sound. She willed her nature to remove them from that place. While small, the crack of light she created was sufficient for them to roll through, her arms binding Josephial tightly. At least the stubble on his face made for a sure grip. She tried not to think over whether their presence was detected or not, and with a crack the portal shut behind her. They would need