The Last Sherkanas

By Justin Burrows

His home and village lay smoldering at the edge of the ocean. With the tides washing away the remains of the dead, Rex'azul sets out to find vengeance for his family.
Along the way he encounters a long lost friend that leads him into a forgotten realm, where the vengeance he has so long sought after is entwined with an ancient Prophecy to determine the fate of the remainder of his kind, the Sherkanas.
All the while fending off an ancient evil that has been lurking in the darkest pits of the world's core.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493161423

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Justin Burrows.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014900350

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4931-6141-6

                Softcover        978-1-4931-6140-9

                eBook             978-1-4931-6142-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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

Rev. date: 01/09/2014

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Contents

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

Dedicated to my family without whom I would not be here today.

Prologue

A long time ago on a far away world, life was similar to yours, yet different. Everything seemed out of place, but in some way perfect. Fantastical creatures soared through the skies, akin to the beasts you already know, yet strange in their own wild, beautiful way. Soaring high atop the clouds, with colors as vibrant as the elements they reigned control over, were the Grand Dragons, overseeing the lands far below.

As bright as the bitter cold elements they controlled, and as deep and dark as the freeze they brought, were the Rekari. Powerful and elegant, they kept watch over the denizens that destroyed needlessly. They would not stand for any creature taking, destroying, draining, sucking the very life of the earth, and as such would step in and put a stop to it. Invincible, immortal, magnificent creatures, they ruled the north, a land of icy terrain, sculpting their strength and ferocity.

The Sul’debkar breed, reflecting the colors of warm twilight at the coast line, the sun dipping into the seas, controlled the heat and the oceans. Timeless like their Rekari brethren, they kept to the southern regions of the world, nestled in the warm bosom of molten volcanoes and tropical breeze.

Together, they ruled over this world, watching the flow of nature as it grew, in and around everything, as it always had since the dawn. They kept to their own, until such a time arose that they needed to intervene with the affairs of mortals, mortals taking so much more than what was needed, making the very world cry out in torment. Never ones to fight amongst themselves, or be needlessly cruel, yet still tales of their fearsome powers were popular stories for mortal parents at bedtime, often used to keep the young in check.

The most feared inhabitants of the land were shapeless beings known as the Mek’kalasad, creatures of such evil that their very name was forbidden in the world, what remained of the world that remembered them. The Mek’kalasad were vile, emotionless creatures, amorphous beings that would assume the shape needed to convey their message to anyone misfortunate enough to stumble across them. Tangible yet not, their strength knew no bounds, slithering, sliding themselves along the shadows of nature with midnight tendrils to guide their way. Their evil was matched only by their beauty, and beautiful they were, in a solemn, stoic way.

Fortunately enough for the rest of the inhabitants they remained locked deep within the crust of the planet, the only light and warmth they knew glimmered from the very core of the world. Snaking for miles around, molten magma popped and crackled, seeping into every fissure of the surface. Illuminated by the molten heat, they tested the boundaries of their prison, searching, grasping for the means to flood the world, to swallow it in their own inky blackness.

Life on Aerif was peaceful and well, nurturing and flowing, a vast life system attuned to the needs of all who dwelled within it. Sheltered in the rising crests and swells of the sea lived the Skerali, the sea dwelling mortals. They lived in harmony with aquatic creatures, from the smallest sand spinners, M’okalee, to the great gliding hunters of the deep, Sara’talu. The Skerali took to the reefs, scavenging and building their home into the very bed of the sea, their brilliant minds carving out a vast kingdom full of intricacies for the sheer joy of it. They too were part of the system, hunting only what they needed to feed their own, never to let a creature be tormented for no validation. The Skerali eventually turned their minds to inventions to bend the very elements surrounding them to their whims, great machines to funnel the water and part the seas, allowing the light to be cast down on them in there home. From high above the Great Dragons kept their everlasting watch, but never to interfere when there was no just cause.

However, the Skerali had a grand weakness, their brilliance, once used only for the love of crafting to show a glimpse into the mind that cannot be seen unto others, would turn to darker thoughts. They had learned to cloak their deceit from the Grand Dragons, the dark depths swallowing their greed and treachery. Allowing them to create an unseen empire deep beneath the turbulent waves.

Atop the land bloomed majestic flora and fauna, inhabited primarily by a nomadic race known as the Sherkanas. They needed no one place for a home, as the very world was just that. Constantly on the move, taking only what was necessary for survival, they enjoyed an ever changing landscape. Along their path, mementos would be collected, for no reason other than the happiness it brought. A shell woven into hair, a feather to a necklace, a small glass jar filled with sand, the object itself never mattered. For several generations the Skerali of the sea and Sherkanas of the land lived in relative peace with there world passing along what they learned to there young and living and working with each other to survive, after many generations came and went, as is the cycle of life, some stories became grand works of literature passed amongst themselves and shared with the world. They lived in peace for so long they all but forgot about the Grand Dragons of the North and South, they also however forgot all but the faintest traces of the wicked and vile Mek’kalasad that lived deep within.

Over the years the races divided even more amongst themselves, building cities and colonies, separating the land and the seas into territories to be owned by the different clans. Each clan would take on their own names for themselves based upon their differences.

The Sherkana separated, based on the way they looked and thought, until one clan would be as different from another almost as much as one species is different from the next. The same too happened with the Skerali in the seas. Communication between each clan began to break down as they all seemed to be in there own ways and cared not for others. They cared only for themselves and their closest family. Things were going well for generations, however dark times were drawing closer.

Over time, the Skerali and Sherkana stopped living in harmony and began to overpopulate the land and seas, they fought vicious battles amongst themselves, the Grand Dragons normally would have intervened by now, however the wicked Mek’kalasad had found a way to tap into the powers during the lunar cycles, when the twin stars that provided luminescence, called A’Rania and her sister La’Runia, were completely eclipsed by the blue moon called Dra’chamshar.

At the beginning of time these eclipses were so very brief, a mere blip of color in the cosmic existence, but over time the planets and stars shifted, becoming longer, the minds of our greatest astronomers predicted that eventually these eclipses would occur more frequently, providing the planet with something new to the Sherkanas, and Skerali… . the ny’hight. Something that was before unknown to them. It was now through these eclipses that the wicked Mek’kalasad could grasp a hold of the darkness, and had a means to break free from their forgotten tomb.

1

I am Rex’Azul, King of what remains of the Sherkana People. We once lived in the humid forests of the southernmost landmass of Condora. I, myself, have 3000 seasons and sit here now as a ruler with all the dark, glittering gold the mind can conjure, and a kingdom to rule in harmony with all that surrounds it. The Grand Dragons of the North and South live at my sides now, and protect all who dwell on this world. But things were not always so peaceful… this is my tale, a tale of how one lowly Sherkana rose from the warm brown dirt to save this grand world and become it’s ruler, a ruler with a kingdom unlike any other. Where for many seasons now no one could harm us and nothing could rip this away.

Things were not always like this though, allow me to tell you my tale of how I saved this world from destruction. So that you also may one day be able to save your own.

When I was much younger, this world was on the brink of destruction, though many may not have realized it, they all went about their day to day lives, pressing on each day taking what they could get for themselves and giving nothing back. As if a plague was spreading across a once great world consuming everything. Where once stood vast forests and jungles, lay barren land, an open wound that mortals would build their structures upon. Gray rock lay bare beneath a searing sky, choking out any greenery that dared to reach towards the rays. Bare, glistening wastelands stretched across the land as far as the eye could see, uninhabitable to any creatures seeking a home.

The lustrous seas had begun evaporating from the force of their great machines, forcing the Skerali out onto the surface, igniting wars with Sherkanas that were already there, fighting for their own existence.

Chaos had grown so much that the Grand Dragons of Legend were nowhere to be found to save the inhabitants from themselves. Worse yet the Mek’kalasad had begun escaping from the caverns where they were long forgotten. Trying to cleanse the world of the taint of the mortal’s creative destructions, waiting for the opportune moment when they were least expected.

Perhaps I should start my story from the beginning, when I was just a young pup, only twenty or so seasons were under my belt. When life still seemed good, carefree and simple on this planet. I spent my life as all others in my clan were living. It wasn’t grand, but it was good enough for the time, at least in my mind.

I learned the ins and outs of life from my fera’sar, my father, he taught me how to survive in this slowly decaying world, how to hunt for food, how to provide for and protect those around me. How were we to know that the vile and wicked Mek’kalasad were setting out to annihilate our very world beneath us.

2

Let us begin. Al’zani said to me. One more time, yes, good. Keep going. Make yourself strong, strong as the very rocks we stand upon.

As long as I could remember, my fera’sar had instilled in me the need to be as strong a leader, protector, as he had been to his family, and our tribe. This is what lead to our daily training exercises out by the coast. I didn’t understand why I was training, all I knew was that it was difficult, and apparently necessary. I kept going, one hand grasping the upper jaw of the rortaka, a small tusked creature that was abundant on our land, not to mention a common delicacy, and the other digging its talons into the small beast’s shoulders.

Straining with all my might, and closing my eyes against the poor creature’s squeals of torment, I wrenched my hands apart. I ended using far too much force, and the rortaka’s head went flying away from me, showering me with warm, thick blood. I stared at my fera’sar, wide eyed as blood dripped down my face and chest, gasping for breath, as he began to collect the parts from my trainings results. It would feed our family tonight.

That… was messy. I got out weakly, wiping at my face.

"Yes it was, but that was an excellent job Rex’azul. It took me ages to build up the strength to do that which you have accomplished. I am proud of you, my pup.