The Seeker: Dawn Bringer, #2

By James Kampel

Get away from it all with an enthralling Fantasy Adventure read!

Embark on a breath-taking trip to a fantasy world with the sequel of top rated ‘The Dreamer’ that won a place in the heart of avid fantasy adventure readers around the globe!

Follow the steps of Oryn the Undying in his quest for the only weapon that would rid mankind of the threat of elimination!

An intriguing trip to a dark, mysterious island to seek a weapon prophesied by his goddess in a prophetic dream is Oryn’s only chance to save humans from the malevolent claws of Arnock.

But the ominous clouds eternally covering the island hide yet another challenge: the heinous kai have discovered magic and used their power to kidnap the children of human villages for vile rites.

Disillusioned, defeated and in deep despair, humans are hopeless to safeguard their future; unless Oryn manages to reach the children before the crucial summer solstice deadline!

Will he manage to win this nightmarish race with time? Will he save the children and ward off the threat for human race elimination?

Find out in a captivating fantasy adventure story that will keep you hooked to the very end!

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Kampel
• Release date: Dec 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386786405

Book preview

THE SEEKER

Dawn Bringer Volume 2

James Kampel

Copyright © 2017 James Kampel

All rights reserved.

First Edition

Paperback ISBN: 978-1978186682 (13 digit), 1978186681 (10 digit)

Visit the Author’s Website at www.jameskampel.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Carl Graves at Extended Imagery (www.extendedimagery.com)

For my brother and sister.

Thank you for being awesome!

In darkest land and deepest night,

I hear the child cry in fright.

With eyes closed tight against my fear,

I hear the child shed a tear.

When monsters come to make the call,

I cry Oh Light, save them all!

CHAPTER 1

Discovering Darkness

The Sun Chaser floated serenely in the calm open ocean. It was a magnificent three-masted schooner that could glide across the water as if it levitated. The main mast stretched high above the deck with a crow’s nest that allowed a sailor to see all the way to the horizon. Five portholes lined each side with heavy cannons at the ready should any ships attack. Ropes, tied with complex knots, crisscrossed the deck, securing everything in place.

Oryn stood on the deck, wearing a short-sleeved shirt that exposed the scars that covered his arms. They were just a hint of the countless scars he bore, scars that told everyone of his immortality. His loose brown hair danced in the wind and his piercing green eyes stared into the distance. A pair of short swords, special blades made to be dull and whisper quiet, rested in a sword belt on his waist. He wore loose light trousers and his feet were bare.

He could hear the gentle lap of the ocean against the hull and the quiet creak of the many ropes tied up along the deck. The cool breeze that blew chased away the heat that the midday sun provided and carried with it the salty scent of the sea. The wind blew strong enough to propel the ship quickly across the ocean’s surface, but as Oryn stared into the distance, the ship barely moved. All three sails were down while the crew gazed at the path ahead. Oryn was content to let them look. He understood their fear and their need to face it. As he watched what lay ahead, feeling none of the fear his mortal companions felt, he let his mind wander.

Ninety-two days ago, the Sun Chaser had left Laen’s Harbor, the last port known to the part of the world Oryn considered civilized. Blindly it had sailed in a roughly northeasterly direction, following nothing but the vague navigation provided by High Priest Korren. According to the priest, Oryn’s goal was to find a land lost to time, a land that no longer appeared on any known maps.

Centuries of warfare had ingrained in humanity an unceasing battle that would last forever. Generations of boys and girls were born and died young in battle with the hated kai, but Oryn’s goddess had woken to tell him that hope existed for humanity. With Oryn’s skill and the retrieval of a critical weapon, he could slay the god that fouled his world with its darkness. Every motion Oryn made toward his goal increased a certainty he felt that it was getting closer.

His time on the voyage allowed Oryn to do a lot of thinking. It had been months since he left the harbor of Port Montag. When he left, the three duchies of Orlania were deep into a fresh crusade to destroy their hated foes. Oryn had never missed a crusade, and the thought of leaving it behind disappointed him. However, his mission was of greater importance.

Oryn stood beside Toolian Yarrow, captain of the vessel. Captain Yarrow was a tall man, with a closely shaved beard and hair tied into many braids. He wore a loose green woolen shirt beneath a red wool jacket with anchors embroidered in blue on the sleeves and clean white breeches. A stout belt held his breeches up and offered support for the cutlass that hung on his left hip. A large amulet shaped like an anchor looped around his neck and each ear held three piercings with hooped gold holding gems of varying colors. Like Oryn, the man wore no footwear.

The captain was a tough man, but his heart was soft for Larra’s cause. When word spread of the Church’s need, Captain Yarrow responded first. He even offered to make the trip for no cost to the Church. The Church was grateful for the man’s great fervor, but handed him a sizable chest full of gold anyway. The captain graciously accepted the payment and the chest remained sealed in his quarters.

The crew that Captain Yarrow hired was a tough lot. They were the strongest fighters and veterans of many years at sea. Every one of them committed to the mission with the same fervor their captain did. Oryn spoke to every sailor that answered the notice. He made it very clear that the Church owned the mission and that the dangers were many and unknown. Thus, it had taken them nearly six months to find the crew they had.

It was with great excitement that the ship set sail. Once clear of the harbor, Captain Yarrow put up every sail and the schooner raced across the ocean toward a destination that Oryn himself did not know. The first few days were calm, but reality set in, and by the time they reached Laen’s Harbor, the ship had weathered many rough seas, vicious storms, and a few unfortunate pirate attacks. Oryn’s eyes twinkled as he thought of those attacks. The pirates were the unfortunates.

Oryn knew Goramor and Willem were just as pleased that the ship set sail. For interminable weeks, they sat rather bored in Port Montag. Goramor was a gwyrn. Translated into the human tongue, it meant Child of Stone. He was shorter than most men were, and twice as wide. His skin was pale gray and he had black hair. On his face, he had a long beard twisted into a single braid. His eyes were rather alarming to anyone that saw them. Like the hated kai, Goramor’s eyes were deep pools of endless black. They were eyes made for living in the darkest places of the world.

Willem’s bright eyes were a direct contrast to Goramor’s eyes. They sparkled in the sunlight when he smiled. He was taller than his gwyrn companion, standing more than a head above the creature. He was built lean and relied on speed to overcome his foes. He was a young man who’d faced more enemies in combat during his short life than most priests twice his age.

To pass the time, Willem had engrossed himself in the local church’s activities. He held mass for the faithful that came in to bask in the warm glow of Larra’s love. He offered funeral services for the poor souls that died. He read stories to the orphaned children that called the church home. And, he practiced with the more militant priests in the art of swordplay. Willem had faced three skilled kai in combat when his home was overrun and he lived to tell about it. Oryn saw a young man quite adept with the blade and he knew he could count on Willem in a fight.

Willem and Goramor spent a lot of time together during the wait. The gwyrn spent most of his time cloistered in the windowless rooms deep within the church but Willem sought his company. The young warrior pledged himself to Oryn’s cause and Willem took great joy in it. While Goramor was quite adept as a warrior, he had joined them without understanding the human tongue. So Willem spent many hours with the gwyrn teaching him the language. To the gwyrn’s credit, he picked it up quickly.

Goramor spent the rest of his time listening to the bustle around the church and answering the many questions that the priests and priestesses asked. Elder Nierra was the worst of all. She wanted to know everything about gwyrn society and history. Many times, Goramor pretended he didn’t understand her questions and he walked away with a wry grin.

Goramor was a warrior and the quiet time in the church did nothing to change that. Every day he spent hours practicing his skills with the mighty war hammer he carried. For a while, he spent most of the practice time alone. The priests were uncomfortable around the strange creature and intimidated by the strength with which the gwyrn wielded his weapon. Over time, his practice partners increased as Oryn began to join him and prove that Goramor was just like them, a warrior of honor and skill that would harm the priests no more than Oryn would.

Ninety-two days. Oryn couldn’t believe it had already been that long since he’d seen civilization, or land for that matter. The captain had assured him they had plenty of provisions to last until they found land. Oryn wasn’t so sure. The crew had been on half rations for the better part of a month and every rainstorm brought a cluster of empty barrels placed on the deck to capture the falling water.

Oryn pulled his eyes away from what he’d been staring at to survey the ship. Every man and woman on board, except the captain, stood on the port side of the vessel and stared. The sailors wore simple white shirts with loose gray breeches. They stored small knives in their belts and some used thin lengths of leather to tie back their hair. Many sailors silently whispered prayers or glanced at the golden sun as they shivered. Goramor stood amongst them. He had his thick cloth wrap that covered his eyes raised just enough to allow him to peek at the scene in front of him. Willem stood there too. He pressed his hand to his heart and his mouth opened and closed quietly.

Pushing his thoughts away from where he’d come, Oryn focused on the way forward. He shifted his eyes once more to the port side of the ship. His gaze skimmed past the pale blue water that he frequently enjoyed staring at. The sunlight glimmered and danced on the surface. In the distance, clearly seen in the bright sunlight, was a solid wall of gray fog. It stretched as far as the eye could see from left to right and it rose into the air to meet even darker gray clouds that swirled in an unseen wind.

The fog was still several miles away, but upon reaching this distance, the captain had lowered all the sails to assess the situation. He licked his lips nervously, but admitted it wasn’t fear that drove him to stop. Oh no, not fear.

Oryn didn’t complain. They’d rushed headlong toward what he sought but it didn’t make sense to rush into an impenetrable fog. There were too many dangers that could sink a ship. One truth remained though. They had to go through the fog. Whatever land they were after, it was beyond the fog and there was no way around the barrier.

Clearing his throat, Oryn turned toward Captain Yarrow. The captain’s eyes met his, and for several moments, they stared in silence. He stopped licking his lips and smoothed his hands down his breeches, removing the stubborn sweat that kept his palms wet. A slight nod from Oryn made him stiffen just a bit.

It’s time, Oryn announced.

As if freed from paralysis, the captain erupted. What are you staring at you pea brained fools? This ship will not sail herself!

The sailors jerked their heads away from the fog and stared open-mouthed at the captain. Organized chaos ensued. Goramor and Willem hustled to join Oryn and clear the way for the crew. The crew members took up their assigned positions with Baltor climbing into the crow’s nest.

All set Captain, Fren, the first mate, bellowed. How many sails?

Captain Yarrow glanced at the fog, narrowed his eyes, and swallowed. One sail, Fren. One sail.

You heard the captain! Move your asses! Fren yelled.

The sailors moved with precision and unfurled the main sail. The cloth opened up and immediately snapped to with the breeze that blew toward the unmoving fog.

Gently now, Captain Yarrow whispered as he took hold of the wheel and steered the ship straight toward the fog. Ever so gently.

The Sun Chaser skated across the gentle ocean, rocking lightly as it moved. The fog came closer and loomed. Unconsciously, every person on board looked up and laid eyes on the sun. A few crew members whispered prayers, none more fervently than Willem.

Oryn gripped his sword hilts as the prow of the ship, carved into the image of a beautiful maiden with long flowing hair, pierced the fog. Baltor stared grimly into the gray soup, trying in vain to see through it. Inch by inch the fog swallowed the vessel and as it fully engulfed the ship, a calm quiet fell. The creak of the taut ropes and the groan of the boards shifting as the ship moved were muted in the thick air.

How far do you think it is? Willem whispered. His face was pale and his eyes were wide open. His left hand gripped the hilt of his long sword.

Not far, Oryn offered as he patted the young priest on the shoulder. The gesture seemed to lessen the man’s strain. At least, he removed his hand from his sword.

Oryn turned to Goramor. How do you feel about this?

Goramor grunted. Don’t like it. Then he shrugged. Been blind before. Smoke in tunnels. I deal with it. He looked down at his boots. Don’t like ship. Want solid ground.

Oryn smiled. We’ll get there. Eventually.

The sailors stood at stiff attention, eyes focused on the ship parts they were responsible for. They stood ready to adjust the rigging if needed or to capture a loose spar if one came free. Their ears were cocked toward the helm, waiting for anything the captain might demand. Every sailor gulped occasionally as if his or her mind had wandered into the realm of dark what ifs.

Seconds stretched into minutes. The engorged sail, barely visible in the murk, provided the only proof that the ship moved. The fog streamed by and every foot traveled looked the same. Every surface of the ship and all those on board became damp from the heavy air. Nervous arms swiped across foreheads or closed eyes to clear the wetness away.

A gasp passed through every lip when the fog suddenly lifted. Though it was midday, the light was muted. It looked to be twilight, a time just before the sun sank below the horizon. Overhead the dark clouds roiled and swirled, but no lightning or thunder split the air. The sailors and travelers glanced quickly at the foreboding wall behind them, whispered a quiet prayer, then looked forward.

Oryn’s eyes did not stray from the prow. The fog was behind him and of lesser concern than what he witnessed before him. A dark landmass loomed in the distance stretching as far as he could see from left to right. In the diminished light, he knew that the landmass stretched much further than that. It was still several miles ahead of the ship, but he could make out the vague shapes of trees.

Captain Yarrow looked at Oryn. It will take all my skill to land us now. Anything can lurk beneath the waves. I don’t expect any sand bars, but we could clip a reef or rocky outcrop. Goddess be, there could be sunken ships in those shallows.

Oryn glanced at the captain. I’ve got faith in you. You are the best, are you not?

Of course, the captain replied. I’ll have you on dry land before you know it. Oryn nodded and looked back to the prow. No need to sail blind now. Captain Yarrow signaled to Fren. First mate, set the lines out. And Baltor, keep your eyes open.

Fren pointed at two sailors who immediately grabbed coils of rope and moved to the front of the ship. They sent down weights on the ends of the ropes and found the depth to be greater than the one-hundred-foot length of the depth finders. They anchored the ropes on stout rings set in the ship’s gunwale and gently held the cords to feel for the instant they struck something solid.

Baltor, standing tall in the crow’s nest, set his eyes well in front of the vessel and watched for any coloration changes or objects poking above the surface. He appeared comfortable in the calm waters, despite the obvious discomfort from the roiling sky overhead. Oryn had seen the man in the crow’s nest in quite a few heavy seas. Baltor was the best observer he’d ever sailed with.

The land crept closer as the ship moved slowly on one sail. Oryn stood with his hands on his hips, relaxed, watching the details of the land before them emerge. Goramor placed one hand on the gunwale and leaned heavily on it. He too spied the land and took in every detail.

Willem stood with one hand stroking a light beard he’d grown. It was spotty at best, but Oryn didn’t feel it right to say anything and rob the priest of his man-symbol. The young man’s eyes roved around. Oryn knew the priest was more worried about the sailors on the ship, than the land approaching. He always focused on the needs of those around him.

With the land no more than five miles away, Oryn lifted his chin. You see that? he asked. The land was relatively flat, with a few hills rising and falling. Most of it was dotted by a large forest with trees that were hard to make out. They appeared to be black sticks rising into the air. Yet, Oryn’s notice was not on the landscape. He spied rocks rising out of the sea, like mighty teeth, in the dimness.

Aye, the captain confirmed. We cannot keep to this path. He spat. The wind be staying steady and as such, direction doesn’t matter. So, I leave it to you to decide which way we go.

Oryn had reached the end of Korren’s directions. This was definitely a landmass that appeared on no map. Now he was as blind as all the others that stood around him. It didn’t cause him great concern. He believed the landmass before him was his destination. He just needed to take the time to search it for his weapon. Take her port, Oryn said. I see a break in the trees at the far end of my vision. It is worth seeing.

As you say. The captain turned the wheel a quarter turn and allowed the vessel to glide in a large arc, aligning the starboard side with the land mass. As one, Oryn and his companions moved across the deck to stand on the side nearest the shore.

The first break Oryn had seen proved to be minor and offered nothing of interest. It was impossible to reach anyway due to the presence of several rocky outcroppings that would not only gouge the hull, but offered a nice place to smash a landing craft to bits. They sailed for several hours, keeping a sharp eye out. The land held their attention on the right and the fog remained a constant reminder of danger to their left. The captain maneuvered the ship carefully, lessening the distance between it and the strange land.

The darkness began to thicken. The few rays of the sun that reached through the cloud cover were diminished as the sun began to descend. The Sun Chaser sailed much closer to the shore now. The land they observed was flatter than what they’d seen before, but with the darkness, Oryn could no longer make out any details.

He motioned Goramor over. The young gwyrn walked over and listened. We need a place where there is enough clearance between the ship and the shore. Goramor nodded. He’d shed his cloth eye covering upon passing through the fog. His eyes opened fully in the dull light. Keep looking and let us know.

Goramor steadied himself by holding to the railing and watched as the land glided by. He provided periodic updates to Oryn and the captain as he watched. As far away as they were, he could not make out anything moving. All he could see were the trees rising on the land and the stones protruding from the depths. An hour passed as each clearing brought a chance of landing, but a sheer cliff or dark object in the water made them pass it up.

Night arrived and complete darkness came with it. Not even a sliver of moonlight could pierce the canopy of clouds roiling above. Suddenly Goramor stood up straight and pointed. It’s there, he said, pointing to a spot that was nothing more than another dark space to Oryn. I see no rocks. Shore is flat. He looked hopeful at Oryn.

Oryn smiled. Stow the sail, he commanded.

Captain Yarrow glanced sideways at him pressing his lips tight. With a nod, he relayed the order. Stow the sail. Ready the anchor.

As soon as the sail was furled, the ship slowed to a crawl. Oryn stared out at the dim blob in the distance. Baltor stood in the crow’s nest, squinting into the inky blackness and muttering to himself. Several sailors looked toward the lanterns hanging along the deck, but no one asked to light one. Oryn rarely let them light the lanterns on deck during the voyage. He wanted to see the enemy before they saw him.

Have you had a good look, Goramor? Is it safe to land? Oryn looked at the gwyrn with quiet intensity. It is OK if you were wrong. We cannot risk the landing. He looked at Willem who stood tapping his foot with his arms crossed staring into the darkness. I won’t have anyone drowning if I can help it.

The gwyrn nodded and shrugged. I see no rocks. It seems safe to me.

We’ll land here, Oryn announced after one more pointless glance into the darkness.

Drop anchor! Captain Yarrow bellowed.

Aye captain! a woman shouted. With an enormous splash, the anchor descended into the sea. Oryn counted silently as the chain links uncoiled and followed the weight into the light-less depths.

When the chain settled, Oryn stopped his count at twenty-six. From his experience, it meant the anchor was about one hundred and twenty feet deep. That offered him a bit of comfort. With such a deep sea, the waters were bound to be calm unless a storm blew through. He noted the number and nodded, then looked at the captain. The captain returned a pointed look in return. Oryn caught the look and bowed his head once. The captain was silently, but officially, passing command to him. The captain’s job was to get him to the destination and he had completed the job he owned.

We’ll rest now. When the sun rises and we get some blasted light, we will disembark, Oryn told the captain. He stroked the hilt of his left short sword. A tremor of excitement washed over him. Whatever he sought, it was on that land. He knew it.

As you wish, Captain Yarrow said. I’d just as soon stay right here in this darkness.

Oryn fixed his eyes on his two companions. Come, we have much to discuss before we can sleep. They nodded and followed him as he made his way to their cabin.

When first hired, the captain fell over himself to give Oryn his own cabin. After careful assurances that such an honor was not necessary, Oryn convinced him that the guest cabin made more sense. The captain’s cabin was made for one. The guest cabin could hold four comfortably and five or six with little concern.

On the Sun Chaser, the guest cabin was luxurious compared to anything Oryn had ever seen. There were four beds attached to the wall, stacked like bunks, two per side. In the center, a large round table sat anchored to the floor with four equally anchored chairs. The chairs were made of a dark wood, polished until they glowed in the lantern light. They were rather simple in make, with arms that curved down at the ends and the back formed into an arch. Basic carvings of fish and dolphins ran up the legs and arms. In addition, there was plenty of room to store their chests and gear and a washbasin allowed them to remain comfortably clean in the close quarters.

Oryn and Willem shed their sword belts upon entering the room and Goramor glanced into the corner by the door to find his war hammer. They each swung an arm out from a chair and took a seat at the table. Willem grinned.

Do you wish to share what amuses you? Oryn asked.

Excitement, Willem confessed. This is so new and so exciting. I can’t wait to see what this land has to show us.

Oryn ran a hand over his chin. He kept it meticulously shaved. He’d tried beards before, but they always drove him batty with the itching. I confess that I’m excited too. But, I am more worried about what this land will show us.

Goramor nodded and drummed his fingers on the table. This darkness is not natural. Willem shivered and Oryn knitted his brow.

Exactly, Oryn began. As much as I now understand that there are creatures that prefer darkness that serve our goddess, I fear that reality dictates that this darkness is present only by those that wish to deny the land the sun. His eyes drifted to the pair of sheathed steel blades resting on the floor beside him.

Willem swallowed and licked his lips. I know, he croaked. He swallowed again. We have come far. I won’t deign to believe that what we will find is safe. But I have faith that whatever it is, we will overcome it.

We will overcome it, Oryn growled. Goramor nodded.

Now, Oryn continued. It was time for the stuff they wouldn’t like. This is a land I have never seen or heard of. No matter how many centuries I have lived, I carry no knowledge of what lies before us. He fixed both companions with a stare. The only things I have are my instincts and experience. I want you to swear now, under Larra’s holy gaze, that you will follow my orders without question.

Willem frowned and wrinkled his brow. Goramor stroked his beard. Neither moved to speak the words Oryn requested.

Oryn softened his look and a hint of the sadness he carried leaked through. Regardless of how you feel, you are my responsibility. I will bring you back home alive and well.

Of course, Willem stammered. I will obey you as if you spoke with the lips of our goddess.

On my father’s honor, and that of my goddess, I will obey, Goramor said. The words brimmed with conviction.

Thank you, Oryn whispered.

Willem stood up and moved to an iron bound chest resting against the wall behind him. He opened it and rummaged around, grunting in satisfaction when he found what he sought. He returned to the table and placed three small, clear glasses and a large bottle of stout whiskey that Vancer gave them upon their departure. The owner of the Tapped Keg took a liking to Willem and Oryn after he heard about their saving Gerra Baneford. On the day they left the harbor of Port Montag, Vancer came out and offered them the bottle of his finest for a special occasion.

Without a word, Willem popped the cork. He inhaled the scent and gasped as the vapors tickled his nose. Yep, he didn’t lie, he said as he poured and passed the glasses around.

He held up his glass at the center of the table. Oryn and Goramor placed their glasses against his.

To a journey ended. May we find what we seek in the days ahead, Willem announced. Three heads went back, three glasses of whiskey emptied, and three mouths coughed vigorously. When they finally caught their breath, all three erupted into wheezy, mirthful laughter.

CHAPTER 2

A Tiny Stone

As morning came, the pitch black of night gave way to a dim gray. Even with the sun denied a direct path to the land, all of its glorious light could not be blocked. Willem whispered his morning prayers, facing what he knew was east. There was no denying where the sun rose even in the gloom. Goramor looked around with a barely concealed grin. He seemed quite pleased to be able to stand outside and see clearly without any discomfort.

The ship’s entire crew stood on deck in a semi-circle shuffling their feet and murmuring to themselves. A landing craft bobbed beside the ship and a rope ladder hung over the side. Along with Oryn’s trio, two sailors stood near the ladder. Captain Yarrow had chosen them to row the vessel that would lead Oryn’s group to the mysterious land. His choice of sailors made it clear that he intended their first encounter to be well controlled whether they found friends or foes.

Rainah was the tallest woman on board with muscles larger than most of the men. She had closely cut brown hair and wore a large golden hoop in each ear. She wore a cutlass on her belt and carried a long knife as well. Darrin was of the same height to Rainah and his muscles bulged. His hair was cut just like Rainah’s and he carried a cutlass and long knife too. The way they looked at each other made it clear that they were more than just shipmates.

The sailors standing around them looked on with varying expressions. Some looked mildly jealous that they would not get to be part of the first landing. They grimaced and gripped their long knives. Others looked at them with relief etched on their faces. Their eyes shifted from the landing party to the land and a few shuddered.

With a curt nod from the captain, Rainah descended the ladder with practiced ease. She steadied the boat and looked up as Darrin lowered several packages with a rope. The first two packages contained Willem and Goramor’s armor. Except for immediate threat, the armor had remained stowed in chests on the ship. All agreed that even if Goramor couldn’t swim, he stood a