Seven Stars of Midnight

By R. E. Joyce

Seven Starts of Midnight is an epic fantasy thriller centered on a world at the brink of darkness.  The forces of evil, festering for centuries, erupt and seven heroes are called to save the world and rebuild the goodness of the earth.

 

Gathered together from all parts of the known world, our heroes lay their individual desires aside to become part of the adventure and by doing so build something new and worthy of praise.

 

In building fantasy worlds, we find that, while topography changes, the essence of our humanity seems to transcend the enchanted vistas of the imagination.  Elf, dwarf or strange eagle does not impede the human message of courage.

 

Wars come and go but heroes last forever in the hearts of those they serve.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: vmPublishing
• Release date: Feb 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386639640

Book preview

Synopsis

Seven Stars of Midnight (short)

Epic fantasy thriller centered on a world at the brink of darkness.  Seven are called to bring the world back from everlasting darkness.

Seven Stars of Midnight (long)

SEVEN STARTS OF MIDNIGHT is an epic fantasy thriller centered on a world at the brink of darkness.  The forces of evil, festering for centuries, erupt and seven heroes are called to save the world and rebuild the goodness of the earth.

Gathered together from all parts of the known world, our heroes lay their individual desires aside to become part of the adventure and by doing so build something new and worthy of praise.

In building fantasy worlds, we find that, while topography changes, the essence of our humanity seems to transcend the enchanted vistas of the imagination.  Elf, dwarf or strange eagle does not impede the human message of courage.

Wars come and go but heroes last forever in the hearts of those they serve.

1.01 The Journey Begun 

"As each moment of life is experienced,

the level of conscious involvement will determine

the lasting effect of the particular moment."

Krelongh

Joabh moved effortlessly through the intricate dance of the Tonla.  Her long black hair was braided and tied with a black silk strap.  Her blouse, jacket, and leggings made of soft deerskin dyed black absorbed the moonlight and helped her blend into the night.  Dull black boots made of sturdier leather moved through the intricate patterns.  Standing five foot four inches, her slender body belied the strength and agility she possessed.  She used all her skills to keep the muscles of her face still and impassive, concentrating on the dance.  The crisp, clean mountain air, alive with the full moon’s piercing silver light, filled the clearing.  Joabh stretched her arms toward the silver moon and drank in the cool air.  For a fleeting moment, earth and humanity united in her dance.

After the night of peace and reflection, Joabh walked silently through the forest, west of the mountain clearing, under the morning star.  It had been many days and nights since she first felt the dread of her journey holding down her spirit.

As a young Toling girl, Joabh had grown up in the peaceful seacoast mountains and enjoyed youth, family, and fellowship with her god Tolus.  She entered the priesthood with the pleasant knowledge of contentment and fullness of life.

Her world, now engulfed in the bitterness of civil war, tore towns, villages, and even families apart—an answer to the violence that moved her people towards utter destruction needed to be found.

Joabh thought back to the storm-whipped night the high priest of Tolus came to her with his impossible mission.  Having taken solemn vows to the teachings of Tolus, Joabh would obey any command given by the high priest.  Having studied under his gentle tutelage, she would have given her life to follow him.  And now he asked her to forsake her vows and return to the world.  He asked her to give up her peace and find those to help save the eroding tranquility of the world of Toling.  It still amazed her that Krelongh, her high priest, asked her to volunteer.  It still stung her very soul that she wanted to refuse.

These painful memories had stolen Joabh’s peace during her journey across the Misting Mountains and into the first valley of the west.  Not until the evening before had she finally accepted her mission.  The Tonla had put her back in focus with the whole of her life, and, in reflection, she accepted her task.  Joabh understood that by taking the mission, she gave up her right to return to her monastery from the unholy world she now entered.

The western world spread before Joabh.  The journey over the mountains that surrounded her small country held breathtaking beauty she had not known.  Now she looked out over a vast new world that defied comprehension.  Her journey took a simple route.  Travel west to the Iron Mountain range, beyond the Misting Mountains, and then seek out the master of the eagles.  He would be the one to aid her people if any help could be found.

Tibor

AS SHE WORKED HER WAY down the rocky slopes of the Misting Mountain forests, she set her mind to the task of her journey.  In this frame of concentration, she nearly missed the warning signs.

Coming to an immediate stop, she crouched and slowly reached into her jacket for her krilow.  Although a ceremonial knife, the krilow was a well-forged weapon.  With this and her skills, Joabh was ready for whatever danger approached.

Staring up, she beheld the jet-black cat with piercing green eyes.  Joabh thought about the ease with which the beast had approached her, yet it too stood stone still watching her.  The cat seemed to await her decision, its muscles taut and quivering, prepared for battle.

So, devil of the mountain, you have come to test your prowess on me.  You will soon find out that you are not superior to all humans.  Joabh spoke softly, content with watching and feeling the cat’s reaction to her presence.

The beautiful animal seemed to listen to her words.  She straightened her stance and placed the krilow back in its carved bamboo casing—the cat would not attack.  She felt rather than knew.  A sense of oneness between the two existed that Joabh accepted without understanding.  I will let you travel your road of destiny, cat.  You and I will not test our strength because we both have our quests to accomplish.

Moving slowly but without fear, Joabh turned and walked on towards the west.  Joabh felt the cat’s presence on the trail above her path and knew he followed at a comfortable distance.

Joabh, reaching a glade, looked around for signs of other travelers.  The glade seemed empty, but indications of some presence within the recent past brought Joabh to attention.  A swift stream bounded the meadow to the south, and the mountain cliff crowded it to the north.  Her only path was to cross the valley and continue through the forest on the other side.  With caution, she began to cross the open area.

The grass, knee-high, soft, and browning in the autumn sunlight, belied a peacefulness that Joabh knew did not exist this day.  Something was very wrong.  Halfway across, the serpents lifted high out of the grass, showing themselves and their evil intentions.  One giant cobra would be no problem for Joabh; two would prove difficult.  Four brought the reality of death to the traveler from Toling.

Quickly stepping back, Joabh drew her krilow and dispatched the cobra directly behind, giving her a moment to think and prepare.  The other three, seeing her swift movements, approached with greater caution.  She knew they would strike together.  Eyeing the three, she chose the one in front, larger than the others, to be the master cobra.  The one on her left, the youngest, may lack experience and skill.  The one on her right showed no signs of weakness.

The snakes were less than ten feet from her when she sensed the presence of another in the glade.  As if by reflex, she knew what her actions would be.  Rolling to her left, she dispatched the younger snake before the others reacted.  With the same movement, she let her krilow fly striking the master cobra mid-strike.  Her life was now in the hands of another.  Glancing to her right, she saw the black streak of the big cat deftly snatching the cobra from the air.  Its teeth sank into the neck of the snake.  With a quick flick of its head, the snake fell limp and lifeless in its jaw.

They stood close, their eyes locked, and focused on the inner soul of the other.  Joabh knew that two travelers from separate worlds were now joined together for their journey.

I see, cat, that we are to become friends.  You will join me on my quest.  She felt strange talking to the animal and yet knew he understood.  Knew he would follow her and aid her on her journey.  It felt good to have such a companion.  I will call you Tibor, Lord of the great cats.  The name is befitting your prowess.  I am Joabh.  If we are to travel together, let us go in a manner that suits us both.

With this, Joabh turned and began to run across the remainder of the glade.  She could maintain this pace through the day and far into the night.  It felt good to stretch out her muscles and push the limits of her endurance.  She also knew Tibor would follow.  His graceful stride matched hers as they entered the forest below and began their quick descent through the foothills of the Misting Mountains into the Valley of Elson.

The Valley of Elson

THE VALLEY OF ELSON, an expansive grassland stretching from the Misting Mountains westward to the Iron Mountains and from the Glaciers of Ibor southward to the swampland of Neecress, opened before her.  Moving bands of cattle herders and horse traders made this valley home.  Some smaller nomadic tribes with no particular avocation in life except to make what you possessed theirs.  The wild grass gave the herds of cattle and horses a perfect environment, and they grew in great numbers.  The lesser wildlife moved as it pleased, and the generally self-sufficient land mirrored the lifestyle of its inhabitants.  They remained independent and self-willed.  Passing through this valley would be no consequence for the travelers except for the nomadic thieves.

Joabh saw that the journey would be several days, even at the pace they had maintained coming down the foothills.  She decided to rest a full day in the shadows at the forest edge before beginning their journey.  Building a small fire, more for cheer than warmth, and collecting roots and berries from the forest, she settled down to rest.  Tibor sat, watching her efforts, and then moved into the forest.  This strange relationship puzzled Joabh, yet the cat brought her comfort and peace she had not felt since she left the protection of her monastery.

Quillon of the Horse Tribe

AS THE SUN SETTLED down for the evening, it brought the vast expanse of the valley alive.  The remarkable beauty of the sunset filled Joabh with new wonder for the vast new world she had entered.  The wild grasses seemed to burn as they swayed in the evening breeze.  Great energy and excitement filled this land; never before had she felt so excited to explore.  She beheld the new world and wanted more.  She could not return to her quiet solitude in the monastery but would wander this world and partake in its mysteries.  And now, with her new friend, loneliness drifted to the back of her thoughts, replaced by a new sense of adventure.

Looking out over the valley, she saw a tall figure astride an animal.  Although still at a great distance, the figure approached her camp directly.  The stranger approached slowly, acting in an assured manner.  Reaching Joabh’s camp, he calmly dismounted from his tall white steed.  The steed pranced nervously but did not move or disobey its master’s commands.  A tall man stood before her, well-muscled and covered in form-fitting fur.  His blond hair flowed freely over his shoulders, and his chiseled face held only one flaw—a deep scar crossing over his left eye.

You travel alone and without escort, Quillon spoke.  And yet, you have company hidden among the trees.  Both Moon Racer and I feel the presence of this danger.

Joabh looked deeply into the stranger’s blue eyes.  There is no danger unless you intend to provoke it, stranger, remaining calm and steady in her response.  I know the name of your beautiful beast.  May I also know yours?  I am Joabh from Toling.

"Forgive my manners, Lady of the Seas; I only thought that the danger needed attention.  I am Quillon, master of the Horse Tribe of Ultara.  If there is no danger, why then does your companion hide?

I call him Tibor, named after the great cat of legend that protects my people.  He saved me from a cobra nest and chose to travel with me for his own reasons.  He will come as he chooses.  Maybe it would be better for Moon Racer if he remained within the trees.  Joabh’s senses told her this was a civilized man, and only caution was required.  She pointed to the stump on the other side of the fire and picked out a leaf filled with hot roots from the coals to offer her guest.

Quillon accepted the offer and sat on the stump, looking at Joabh and the food she offered.

Tibor chose this time to slip from the trees and advance towards the camp.  Moon Racer became more agitated, and Quillon stood, reaching reflexively into his boot for his knife.  Tibor stopped and stared directly into his eyes.

Quillon slowly slid the knife back into the leather sheath built into his boot.  Your friend is indeed a great cat, his kind not seen for many generations.  Why does he travel into this country now?

Joabh thought this through as Quillon backed away from the cat towards his steed.  Holding its nose, he calmed the animal with soft words Joabh could not understand, and although the horse settled down, it did not let its concentration slip from the great black beast standing calmly across the camp.

Joabh honestly did not know why the cat followed her, and she told Quillon, as best she could, what she felt was in the great beast’s mind.  With this, Quillon seemed to relax.

So both of you have felt the evil growing in our world, Quillon spoke frankly.  I, too, travel in search of understanding.  I have been on a mission to cross the valley and find what has disturbed my people and our great steeds.  I accept both of you and will aid you on your journey.

With that, Quillon approached the big cat.  Joabh tensed, not knowing how Tibor would react to this.  The cat merely sat and allowed the man to touch his fur, and with this, Moon Racer lost interest in the cat and began to graze on the grasses around him.

Quillon smiled, My steed will accept any friend I choose, although I doubt this one will ever ride his back.  What an interesting group of travelers.  Now, if I may, I would like to sample your cooking art.  It smells good, and I have traveled days, forgetting about my hunger.

Quillon retrieved a satchel of bread to share from his steed, and Joabh poured some of the herb tea she had prepared to go with the roots and berries.  Where will you travel to in your quest, Joabh?

Joabh told him of her intention to travel west across the valley but did not give her destination or whom she would seek out.  Quillon seemed friendly enough but remained unknown, and she continued to hide her mission.

Quillon laughed quietly at first and then with a growing heartiness.  Joabh fumed, being the object of his joke, but Tibor sat calmly beside her, oblivious to her tension and pain.

Our Lady of the Seas is new to this world.  All who travel here know of the legendary Moon Racer and know his companion to be the master of the horse tribes.  You will need to become more familiar with the people of the world and who you can and cannot trust if you are to complete your quest.  Quillon began to talk about the history of his people and the others of the valley.  He then related his knowledge of her people and how his ancestors had fought side by side in the Dragonlord Wars of ancient times.  A descendant of the great horse kings, Quillon carried on the tradition of keeping all people free within his domain of the Valley of Elson.

Joabh’s mind methodically cataloged the information Quillon gave and found truth in his accounting of the histories of both peoples.  Her inner sense calmed, and she became aware of the goodness of this man.  But mostly, she began to feel the presence of his magnificent steed.  Like Tibor, she felt the animal’s inner self, which seemed open to her, and she sensed this was a noble animal and a friend.  The tension Moon Racer had felt had hidden him from her senses.  Now she knew there could be trust built with these travelers.

Joabh shared her destination and her beginnings with the master of the horse tribes.  They talked well into the autumn night, learning about each other’s people and discussing the confusing and deadly trouble that invaded their lands.  The talk finally dwindled, and Joabh curled up beside the big cat and fell asleep.  She left the others to guard the camp while she fell softly into a deep and refreshing slumber for the first time since leaving Toling.

The morning sunlight found Joabh and Quillon preparing for their journey west.  Quillon’s concern for Joabh traveling on foot dissipated as she raced out of the camp at an even, steady pace matched by Tibor.  Quillon brought Moon Racer about and, commanding a fast-paced trot, joined the two westward across the grasslands.  The clear sky and the taste of winter to come in the air made the travel exhilarating.  Quillon continued to be amazed at the stamina of the young woman who ran effortlessly beside his steed.  By early evening, they had covered nearly one-third of their journey across the valley, and Quillon called for a halt.  They made camp and continued their conversations of the previous evening.  Sensing the end of the day’s travel, Tibor slipped quietly into the tall grasses to find his evening meal.

The Massi

AS THE EVENING SKY darkened, she noticed small fires to the south of their campsite.  Quillon instinctively lowered the flames of their campfire and stared off into the southern night for a long time.  There are travelers we do not wish to meet, stated Quillon.  We will need to be alert this evening.  If they are of the tribe of Massi, they will roam through the night looking for unsuspecting travelers.

Joabh, sensing his concern, knew enough to obey this man within his land.  She chose to take the first watch and doused the fire completely.  They would be safer, and she did not need the light or warmth.  Her evening watch was uneventful, and when the moon reached its zenith, she awoke Quillon and prepared for sleep.

Midway through Quillon’s watch, Moon Racer showed signs of agitation.  Quillon quickly woke Joabh and silently pointed around them.  The Massi, a fierce tribe of bandits, adapted well to the land they wandered.  They must have seen their initial fire because they had approached cautiously and stealthily.  Now the thieves surrounded them, and they would attack.  Surveying their position, Quillon realized they had not chosen their camp well for defense.  The small stream at their backs would not protect them, and the Massi would attack from all four sides.

Quillon quickly devised the plan he felt comfortable with and whispered instructions to Joabh.  She understood and prepared to do her part.

Know that in battle, each must carry their own burden, Joabh whispered.  I will be treated as one of your best warriors and no less.

Quillon’s stare and nod affirmed her standing.  Confident in her abilities, she turned to her part of the battle trusting Quillon to his.  The quickening of battle surged through each as they waited for the ambush to begin.

The attack came swiftly and without sound.  The Massi had been fighters of the night for many generations, and deep within their traditions were fierce battle cries that filled the hearts of their prey with fear.  This night they silently surged forward.

Moon Racer reacted first.  Rearing up, he kicked two advancing Massi deftly in their heads, and they crumpled to the ground.  Arrows flew through the air striking the steed, but these did not interrupt his battle with the renegade tribesmen.  He continued to prance and strike out in the small area he had been assigned to protect.  Quillon loosed many arrows with deadly precision, and the warriors from the northern section advanced, pinning down the group.

Joabh slipped in and out of the shadows, deftly dealing death to any that came within reach of her arms and legs.  She had never used the Tonla or her art of self-defense in this manner.  She shut her mind to the vile feelings that attacked her respect for life.  She did not ask these people to harm her.  There was nothing else she could do.

They fought valiantly, vastly outnumbered by raiders with no fear or concern for their well-being.  Quillon’s whistle meant that the battle had turned, and they could not last much longer, even with his considerable skill.  Quillon called out to Moon Racer, and the mighty steed broke away from his fighting and charged through the camp between Quillon and Joabh.  Both reacted, grabbing the charging animal and leaping aboard its broad back.

The startled look in the eyes of the attackers as the three raced from the camp and through the lines gave them the moment they needed.  Moon Racer, free of the bandits, ran swiftly into the night.  Quillon had chosen a small grove of trees he had seen the evening before to make another stand.  He knew these bandits would not give up pursuit, and the trees would give them a better chance of surviving the onslaught.  The arrow and sword wounds Moon Racer had received took away any opportunity for them to outdistance the advancing hoards.

As they neared the shelter of the trees, the wild cry of the mountain cat pierced the darkness to their right.  Joabh instinctively grabbed the reins and turned the head of Moon Racer towards the direction of the cry.  Quillon started to protest when the tree line erupted with another band of Massi warriors.  Quillon’s stories of these wandering marauders did not include battle organization, and they had nearly run straight into the arms of death.  Upon reaching the cat, they realized he had also been busy.  Around him lay a dozen dead warriors, and behind him, a ravine the bandits had been protecting.  Into this ravine, the cat and steed charged.  Here, the four defended themselves by putting the walls of the ravine to their back and making the Massi charge straight on.

The battle continued through the night, but the Massi were no match for them in this defensible position.  Many of the Massi lay dead within the ravine, and by sunrise, the rest turned and faded back into the grasses of the plain.  They had seen enough and chose not to fight during the day.  At least one tradition still holds true for these people.

As they left, Joabh pointed to a warrior on horseback near the back of the tribe and shuddered.  The man possessed an evil larger than the Massi’s desire for wealth.

1.02 The Evil Grows

They tended to wounds and spent the day fortifying their position.  They would need to rest and limit travel to daylight.  Two days of preparation for their journey were required, and they would have to defend themselves each night.

The Massi nightly raids became token battles at best.  These people did not have bloodlust and soon chose to find easier targets for their greed.  On the third day, the weary band set out again for the west, keeping a close watch for the raiders and making sure they had a protected place for the night.  The trek across the valley took an extra two days due to caution and the need to find defensible shelter.  Finally, they reached the foothills of the Iron Mountains and began a northwesterly march towards the roadway leading to the City of the Eagles.

Dwarves and elves inhabited the Iron Mountains for the most part.  The strong trees of the forests seemed to take nourishment from the rich ores within the mountain.  The iron oak was known for its strength beyond any other oak in the world, and only the elfin masters knew how to harvest these trees.  Legend has it that the elfin masters made the shafts of the arrows of midnight for the Dragonlord Wars from these trees.  Since then, the elves have protected the trees from vandalism.  Quillon knew that if they reached the forests of Iron Mountain, they would be free of pursuit by the Massi.  His only problem then would be to convince the elves they were friendly and could be trusted within the forests.

Effiroln

THEY HAD SPENT MOST of the day climbing into the mountain range.  Finally, Quillon made his decision.  We will move into the forest a little way before the sun passes over the mountains.  Joabh, we will face another danger in these woods.

Joabh determined stride belied her need for rest.  She had held up well during their journey, taking only occasional rides on Moon Racer when Quillon insisted.  Now her strength was gone.

They entered the forest, and after only a short walk in the cool dampness, they came to a small, peaceful glade with a babbling brook.  Joabh ran wearily towards the stream and fell to the ground beside it.  Cleaning her face and drinking deeply from the refreshing water, she lay back in the grass, taking the fading sunlight into her body and soul.  She thought of doing her Tonla but knew her body could not and would not participate.  She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  She heard Quillon as he cared for Moon Racer.  She did not feel it when he covered her as the sun faded in the western sky.

Quillon would not build a fire and invite the wrath of the elves, but he prepared a cold supper for the two of them just in case Joabh awoke.  Finally, settling down in the grass beside Joabh, he fell asleep.

Moon Racer looked at his two companions, and the great cat stretched out near the stream.  Then he looked into the forest at Effiroln, who watched the odd band of raiders in his kingdom throughout the afternoon’s proceedings with great interest. 

The elf would spend some time in reflection before he dispatched them.  At least they have done nothing sacrilegious so far.  The elfin people, misunderstood by many of the world’s races, prefer to be left to work within the great forests and tend not to attack anyone unless provoked.

One story tells of a band of elfin warriors coming upon a small child picking flowers in the forest, found with hundreds of arrows piercing her body.  Another story tells of an evil sorcerer caught stealing magical flowers and ferns from the ceremonial sites of the elfin lords.  In this case, the body was also found riddled with arrows.  Sadly, while the second version is accurate, the first is used throughout the lands by mothers looking to control the wild spirits of their children.

Effiroln worried these days about intruders in his kingdom.  Too many peculiar problems had been cropping up within the forest to allow humans to wander around.  Two of the living trees of his people mysteriously died during the summer months—something that had not happened throughout the known history of his elfin clan.  Moving silently through the branches of the enormous trees, Effiroln let these intruders sleep the night within his forest, and he indicated his decision to the two other elves with him.  They would stay and keep the humans from mischief.

Effiroln quickly traveled the highways of the trees to another place where trouble invaded his forest.  Several ogres spotted in the northern part of the forest were dealt with quickly and decisively.  Without hesitation, he dispatched the ogres and returned to the glade before sunrise.  What had happened to the peaceful days of tending to the gardens of the forest he had known for so many years?  Maybe he had outlived the peace of this world?  Perhaps it was time to cross the great river?  The ruler of the Iron Mountain forests sighed but knew he must continue serving his people until another stood to be the leader of his people.

His journey through the night went as he had expected.  The three ogres, wandering through the mountainside forest as boldly as a king in his castle, would never see the dawn.  Upon the lord’s arrival, three elves joined him, and they quickly dispatched these ugly creatures to the next world.  Then taking the bodies, they dragged them out of the forest and set them on fire.  By morning only sickly traces of smoke marked the existence of the invading creatures.

The morning sun lifted over the trees, giving the travelers light and warmth.  Joabh awoke and found Moon Racer and Tibor nearby, with Quillon resting beside her.  She rose to a sitting position, stretched, and looked around the glade.  There, not four feet from her, sat Effiroln.  She looked upon the elfin lord with amazement and curiosity.  She felt no fear looking into the deep, crystal eyes of the beautiful being.

Joabh rose to her feet and walked off a few paces.  Then, bringing her mind into focus, began the Tonla she wanted to perform the evening before.  At first, she felt foolish leaving her new guest, but it seemed