The Eternal Wake: Book 1

By Phuong Nguyen

This book accompanied the readers along the journey of a young girl named Evelyn. Evelyn spent her twenty years confined in a basement isolated from the world. Her crimes she did not know, nor did she knew of her family. Her journey began when she found the portal to a different dimension, a dimension that trained half her soul to fight a force she never knew. This force, known as the Cavaliers, consists of dead souls who wanders the earth due to certain attachment whether it is money, power, addiction, or love. The only way these souls can be release is to collect living souls to complete their cycle. However, under the ruling of King Charis' lineage, the Gods forbade these Cavaliers from hunting within the protection of King Charis' supremacy. The only way to rid of a Cavalier is through qi (chi), a natural force that flows through the universe in which can be wielded into a weapon. Evelyn's journey to find the truth about herself was accompanied by Flynn, her partner in crime. Their journey develops a passion between the two, a secretive passion that neither one dares to admit. Conflict arouse when a Cavalier stumbled upon her path and confessed his attachment to her, the only reason why he could not receive his judgment day. Evelyn was left to debate upon her feelings for Flynn and this Cavalier, who had loved her unconditionally even through a millenia. She also found her reason for existence in which she now must decide whether to save her own world or the world of the basement in which lays half her soul - a world she never truly knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491802403

Book preview

The Eternal Wake

Book 1

PHUONG NGUYEN

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

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©

2013 Phuong Nguyen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/06/2017

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0239-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0240-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013913736

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

About the Author

Aeternum after evelyn:

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Prologue

I walked through the world like a star in the sky,

Not a care, not a worry, as the world passed on by.

Thought I was happy, thought my puzzle complete,

But a piece had been missing, lost somewhere under the sheets.

I searched, searched, and searched but came to no avail,

I thought to myself ‘I give up,’ just let my ship called life set sail.

Where to go from that point, I really hadn’t a clue,

But then a shining star came along, and that my love, my sweet, was you.

Jayden gazed down at his beautiful love with a longing in his heart. A sorrowful sigh escaped his lips as the eternal beginning of his end began.

Evelyn:

I knew our world was different, and I knew I was different. As days turned into nights and nights into days, I drifted between the twilight zone that granted me neither sleep nor wake.

I knew the dimensions were transient, and I knew emotions were impermanent. But my knowledge on the subject matter only came after my death.

I knew the physical matter will decay and rot against the sand of time but energy remains eternal. The unlimited span of energy became my power and the gateway to my freedom.

I had thought to hate my ‘mom’ because the only reality I knew for 20 years was the four bare walls of a basement with no windows or mirrors to relief my suffocation.

I had fallen in love with my partner in crime, a man from a different world, Aeternum. He who had loved me unconditionally, he who had stood by me regardless of my decisions, and he who I had shattered his tender heart.

I had found my attachment from a man who had died as a Cavalier. He who had waited for me through the millennia, he who had been patient with my reincarnation cycle, he who had loved me unconditionally and he who had destroyed my reality.

Only after death did I realized the power of my sacrifice and the true meaning of unconditional love. As I uncovered my journey engraved within these chapters, within my own book tucked neatly between the shelves of the Temple of Knowledge, I finally understood my eternal curse.

Chapter 1

W here am I?

The Temple of Knowledge, A white-robed monk replied calmly, his voice echoing against the stark white walls.

The Temple of Knowledge? The whole temple was massive; one vast dome with intricate pillars lining both wings of a wide corridor. Rows of bookshelves ran down the columns on both side to the opposite walls and travelled along the back wall housing thousands of literature. Glass windows emerged beyond the shelves curving effortlessly forming an invisible ceiling above the dome.

At the completion of the corridor, a floor to ceiling window marks the conclusion of the border of bookshelves. On the opposite side of the corridor, behind me, was a large glass door nestled perfectly against the invisible walls. Soft white clouds were looming in the perfectly clear sky. They drifted endlessly across the windows and engulfed the structure in a curling smoke; the architecture floated silently in heaven.

Indeed, this Temple housed every literature known to mankind, The monk replied as his hand waved in gesture towards the numerous texts. Various monks in white robes paced along the bookshelves all absorbed in their own text as if a visitor is not uncommon. No eyes wandered up in curiosity of the presence which is in the room. No whispers of sort pointing out the confused figure rooted in the middle.

Every book is forever altering in adaptation to the fluctuations in the world; for example, books about politics would self-modify in revision to its era depending on the subject of politics. Most of the books, however, record the journey of an individual soul through many reincarnations. It does not reveal the future; it only records the past. I gawked around in incredulity speculating where I would find my book. The multitude of literature spanned on unsystematically. No labels indicated whether the row accommodated for fiction or non-fiction; in fact, there were no signs visible against the sterile white structure.

As if reading my mind the monk smiled politely and continued, These books can only be delivered by monks pure at heart; nevertheless, I can answer your questions about your life.

Who was I in my past life?

You were a finch. To become human, a soul requires nine lives reincarnated as an animal.

Was I shot by a hunter? There was an aching pain in my heart that led me to the conclusion of a painful death.

No, you died a peaceful death.

Why am I here?

You are here because your reincarnation is of a princess who is prepared to take her throne.

A princess? I frowned.

Yes, a princess.

How did I get here?

Through a state of meditation.

But I’ve been locked up in a basement for such a long time. Why?

That is something that I am not allowed to answer. Disclosing such information may be detrimental to the dimensions.

The dimensions?

Yes, The monk replied simply without elaborating.

Then what is it that I’m supposed to do?

Journey to the king, your father, in the Royal Palace. Your purpose resides in his answers.

Alright, let’s say I do arrive at the Royal Palace, would the king allow me to simply waltz into the palace and claim myself as an heir to his throne? I have never met the man.

A father always knows his child. I paused momentarily uncertain whether the answer was valid.

By the way, you mentioned that I arrived here through meditation? With so many questions spinning in my mind, I couldn’t allow the ambiguity of the monk’s answers to lose my train of thought.

Certainly, you have achieved a prevailing level of meditation that allowed your spiritual form to cross an altered dimension.

If that is correct, where is it that I am located right now? Not this meditative state, but my physical state.

In the basement.

Hence is this considered my soul?

That may be a mutual conclusion, but all the physical mass around you is tangibly real, you are physically real in this world.

You kept bring up this world, can you please elaborate?

That is another question that the King will be privileged to reveal. I dare not comment.

Where is the Royal Palace? I asked changing the subject.

Descend the mountains and head North; that’s where the Royal Palace lies. With those final words, the monk retreated and vanished amid the bookshelves.

I spun around facing the glass door with an unsatisifed sigh and found myself entwined in the endless, curling smoke of clouds.

Chapter 2

I opened my eyes to an intolerable darkness as my fingers fumbled clumsily toward a light switch on the wall. The basement that had confined me for twenty years lit up with a flick of a light switch. No windows pampered the musty insignificant space. My bed, pushed up against the wall on the left, stretched along the opposite walls. It tucked into those walls crevices seamlessly as if premeditated by the thoughtless architect who had forgotten to add a window. On the opposite side of this basement, a small bathroom positioned conveniently tending to my needs. A bathroom that lacked a mirror which forces me to dwell upon the reasoning behind it. My desk, facing the wall, situated between the bed and the bathroom door was cluttered with piles of paper. The only mode out of this confinement was through the never unlocked door at the top of a ten steps staircase. Fortunate for me, I supposed, a doggie door was installed allowing my ‘mom’ to slip food through.

I guess I couldn’t really call her ‘mom’ since I never saw her. Nonetheless, if the definition of mother dictates a female figure that cares for or protects a child, then I can scarcely describe her as ‘mom.’ I realized that the presence of a ‘dad’ lurked in the house somewhere, though he never visited. The front door slams heavily indicating his presence or absence in the house which I do not know nor care for. There were also children’s footsteps thundering above me ignorant of an existence below their feet. The basement door was forbidden to be touched; ‘mom’ had distinctly lectured her children that the worn down door simply leads to a dead end wall of a closet that holds no fascination to the two small minds.

My presence went undetected; I believe the only soul who acknowledged my presence was that of ‘mom.’ My imprisonment resembled a caged animal that is fed regularly just to be kept alive—never more, never less. I do have to give her credit for her generosity with my writing utensils; it does allowed me to entertain myself expressively. For twenty years in this imprisonment, I would draw and write to boredom. ‘Mom’ was cautious to prevent any exposure of activities that would introduce me to the outside world; therefore, reading was not optional. I am unaware of my crime, but the injustice of my confinement is not a subject that was investigational. The event that led me to this dwelling fogged in the back of my consciousness. It interlaced like a dream; fragments of memories that I can’t seem to piece together. Of course, I attempted to converse to ‘mom,’ a silent figure that refused to utter a word to me. My only explanation of such state and the lack of a mirror simply must be that I am hideous in nature. My face must be an unbearable sight explaining my exclusion from the world. Death had ventured my mind more than once teasing me to come along, tempting me to rid myself of this emptiness locked away in a basement. Maybe it was my lack of courage that frustrates me to endure this prison. Then again, what is courage? Is it the ability to inflict death upon one’s self? Or the ability to live on? Whatever it was that forested through my mind, I am still miserably alive.

Until one day, when I was fifteen, I started dreaming vividly. My dream landed me in that stark white room lined with literature; greeted by a venerable monk with a voice that echoed through time and space explaining to me about the sterile white walls, the Temple of Knowledge. I then began to dream of a beautiful paradise where I was not locked up. There were children among me, laughing along with me. I was within a world where no ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ sheltered me from exploring the vast expense of land. It became my escape, my home. Sleep granted me freedom. Unfortunately, my biological clock does not allow me to slumber twenty-four seven, and I would again find myself back in this confined space pacing through the floors occupying my time with papers.

I remembered what the charismatic monk had told me, he planted a seed of meditation in my mind. My sleeping state, I finally realized, is actually a meditative state. You can’t imagine the thrill I felt understanding the possibility of traveling through time and space through a state known as meditation. Of course, my other form needed to rest, and I am not completely at liberty from this dark, dingy cave. Whenever I am forced to return, I would start drawing of my world and allow myself to be absorbed in its beauty even when I am alone. This is how my journey of exploring myself had started; it was of just recent years that it became an adventure edged in my mind. I finally found my purpose of living and the sole reason why I exist.

Chapter 3

T he endless distance formed a throbbing soreness in my legs. I had been walking aimlessly for virtually two days and the scenery was unnerving. Honestly, I had entirely thought that all civilization had vanished. The dry heat of the desert did nothing but added to my despair. Squinting upward towards the blazing hot sun, I felt the sweat easing down effortlessly across my forehead. My breath choked as I attempted a deep inhalation and urged my body onward. Nightfall would be just as brutal.

A small lizard scampered past and rooted himself on a rock under the shade of a saguaro cactus. The drastic change in temperature provided by the shade allowed him to close his eyes and felt a rush of relief. How I wished I was as small as that lizard and be sizeable for a shady cactus to shelter me from this inhumane heat. All the dwelling creatures of the desert hid below my footsteps, adapted to survival from the scorching heat; I don’t blame them. It created a sense of vast emptiness within the desert, but in reality, life continues underneath my shuffling soles. I wondered at times if these critters could hear my footsteps thundering upon their roof and prayed that nightfall would soon come before they can be safe again.

Finally, for what felt like an eternity, I spotted a small village quietly blazing under the sun. It danced gleefully amidst the heat and unified itself with the golden color of the desert. The village was modest but expanded far enough to where one could not see its border. Eagerly, my legs trotted toward the first house I saw made out of stone and clay. It protruded out of the sand and molded itself to form a hollow shelter. The village dirt path winded between the structures and interlocked in a maze of intersections. All the buildings were similar but varied in sizes. The walls were made out of stone and clay with awnings poking out in an attempt to provide amble shade. However, the village was as vacant as the desert itself. Perhaps the inhabitant cultured a great deal from the desert critters; to contain their biological suffering from the sun during midday—unlike my worn-out, un-adapted being.

Wearily, I knocked on the wooden door and waited anxiously as if an eternity had passed before a shuffling sound rekindled my hope. I noticed a pair of eyes darted underneath the curtains through a small window. Straining my ears, any sound of life seemed to have disappeared. My fingers fidgetted in desperation, and I attempted another knock slightly more urgent. There was no hiding the fact that there is an inhabitant beyond the walls; I honestly did not bother to think twice about the kind of person living behind those walls. Every second in the desert stung my delicate skin; I had the thought that perhaps I am being roasted tenderly and