Guardian: The Lissae Series, #0.5
By R. Lennard
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About this ebook
When evil walks, there must be a Guardian to save them all...
Jon Buan spent his first night on the streets after his father was killed protecting the Realm. Now, Jon must face the same menacing darkness as his father. Following the guidance of his strict mentor, Jon discovers his magic is stronger than he ever thought, but will he be strong enough to protect the whole Realm?
Will Jonathan survive the deadly Realms, or will he be forever changed?
Guardian is the introduction to the Lissae series of epic YA fantasy adventures. If you like fierce heroes, pulse-pounding action, and unique magical worlds, then you'll love R. Lennard's page-turning novella.
Buy Guardian to bend the elements to your will today!
R. Lennard
R. Lennard dreamed of being the headmistress of a boarding school, a jockey, a ballet dancer and a diplomat. At the same time. Two left feet stopped the dancing dream, and a fear of falling stopped the jockey one. At ten years old, when she discovered that the squiggles on the page actually meant something, she devoured every book in the library before figuring out that she could be all she dreamed of and more if she wrote the book. Rebecca enjoys learning about ancient civilisations, cosplaying and endless cups of tea. An avid fantasy and sci-fi reader, she fell in love with dragons, space travel, discovering fantastical history and stepping through a cupboard. Fantasy became her home away from home, and she loves to share the worlds she's created with her readers in the YA series, Lissae. Residing on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia, Rebecca enjoys the natural beauty of both the beach and the bush, finding hidden writing spots as a makeshift office. When Rebecca isn't writing, she's masquerading as one of the librarians on the Sunshine Coast. If you want to know when Rebecca's next book will come out, please visit her website at www.lissae.com where you can sign up to receive emails with exclusive extras and get notified when she has her next release.
Related to Guardian
Titles in the series (8)
Ronah: The Lissae Series, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGuardian: The Lissae Series, #0.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsReturned: The Lissae Series, #1.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRakemyst: The Lissae Series, #2 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsShadows: The Lissae Series, #2.5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTalhan: The Lissae Series, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGinorti: The Lissae Series, #5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCantash: The Lissae Series, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Book preview
Guardian - R. Lennard
Chapter One
Autumn 4040
Frigid seawater soaked through his thick jacket, seeping into his skin and making his breath shiver in the air before mixing with the pelting rain. Jon Buan clutched the railing as the next wave smashed into the deck with more violence than the usual Lissaen storm.
Get below, boy!
a voice growled into his ear. Calloused hands grabbed the back of his collar and thrust him towards the gaping hole in the deck. It might have led to warmth and safety, but down below was also guaranteed to make his face go green and his meagre dinner travel upwards from his stomach.
Get below!
Another pair of hands shuffled him closer to the hold and the next wave chased him in—a healthy dose of seawater burning the back of his throat and stinging his eyes when he surfaced.
Except he wasn’t in the hold.
He wasn’t even on the ship.
Jon was close enough to the boards of the hull to make out each nail and joint before the waves pulled him under again.
Then he was flying, flailing through the air, back onto the ship, and slamming into the wall of the hold as the double doors swung shut after him.
Ya just canna ’elp it,
Tim jeered, clutching a wooden bucket to his chest.
Down ’ere makes me need tha’ bucket more than you!
Jon scowled back, stumbling and grabbing it off Tim as the first wave of heaving overcame his stomach.
Oi!
Leave off!
snapped Ian. At twelve, Ian was older by far, and considered the leader of the boys when the waves rose as tall as the masts. It was his job to make sure they were all in the hold safely. Anyone who fell overboard was pulled back in by Ian using his Air Innarn. He was accurate, even though the landings were rough.
Thanks, Ian,
Jon muttered, scowling.
Shoulda let yer sorry arse drown.
Ian fondly ruffled Jon’s hair, taking the sting out of his words. Almost didna find ye in the waves. Got two squid and a red phantom first.
Good eatin’, phantom,
Tim said, looking slightly cheerier.
Groaning, Jon mutely nodded, worried if he said anything, dinner would reappear.
In the corner, the glassy-eyed red phantom seemed to regard him, its burnt-red scales glimmering copper in the spluttering light of the torches.
There was a rhyme about the phantoms the sailors recited. Something about touching humans and stealing souls, but the thought dissipated as the ship lurched and bumped.
They’d reached land.
Cheers sounded, and the doors of the hold flew open, men scurrying to unload their goods onto the dock.
Jon looked up as his father came in, tripping over one of the squid’s tentacles and landing, hands first, on the phantom.
The raucous cries from the sailors on deck died down as Michael Buan stood, hands glowing red as if the scales of the phantom had melded with his skin.
By the Life of Lissae,
one of the sailors breathed, tracing a circle over his heart.
’Tis nuthin but scales,
Michael scoffed and scrubbed his hands on his waterlogged pants before grabbing Jon by the arm and hoisting him to his feet. We’d best get home, boyo, or yer aunt’ll worry.
Men who were usually jubilant at being back on land watched father and son with worried eyes as they worked silently, unpacking their haul. The occasional face turned towards the blistering sun in relief of being out of the storm.
Jon felt like something important had happened, but kept his mouth shut as his legs struggled to adjust to the steadiness of land after a month at sea. His father tugged him along, grinning down at him now and then until they reached the path leading to his aunt’s two-storey stone house.
Och, boyo. Can’t go in lookin’ like yeh were just in a squall!
His father blasted him with hot air pushed from his palms, and Jon leant his head down, scrubbing at his hair to try and get it into some sort of order.
Glumly, he picked out a bit of seaweed and flung it to the side.
Da, I don’t wanta ...
So. You’re back.
Jon’s aunt stood framed by the front door, her long skirts falling perfectly, her blouse tucked in, and hair swept up, towering in a meticulously complicated wave. Eyes glittering with malice, she took in father and son as Michael turned his Air Innarn on himself to dry out.
I have visitors. You’ll have to stay in the shed.
Amelia, I ...
Michael held up his hands.
Jon’s aunt, in the process of turning back into the house, froze. Her quick, sharp steps made Jon think his aunt would hit his father. He squared slender shoulders and pushed in front of his father.
Out of the way, boy,
Amelia snarled. She grabbed Michael’s wrist and examined his outstretched hand. Is that?
The faintest glimmer of red scales was etched into his father’s palms.
I hae patrol tonight. ’Tis why we’re back early.
The adults shared a look that said more than Jon understood.
Why tonight, Da? Can it nae wait?
Jon asked, itching to break the tense silence.
Lissae will always need savin’, boyo. Tonight, tomorrow, an’ every other day tae come. If I dinnae go, some other poor soul will hae to.
Michael rubbed Jon’s shoulder. Jon pretended not to notice it was with the hand that hadn’t been touched by the phantom.
I suppose you’d better come inside,
Amelia huffed, striding back to the house. Jon could have sworn he saw a shine of tears in her eyes. And make sure you’re dry before you step foot in my home!
Tears. As if his aunt was capable of that.
Together, father and son slipped into the house, careful not to make a sound and disturb his aunt or her guests. They sated their hunger on the day-old bread and hard cheese laid out before they slipped into the cramped room just off the kitchen. Aunt Amelia swore it was all she could offer them. Jon had never seen the rest of her expansive house.
Yeh take the bed, boyo,
Michael said. I’m patrollin’ wit’ the Guardian tonight, so I willnae need it.
Da? Was Aunt cryin’ afore?
"Oh, Jono. Nae. She wouldnae shed a tear o’er the likes o’ me.
Why was everyone so quiet tonight? When we got back?
"Ah. Well, they’re superstitious, tha lot o’ ’em. They think ’cause I touched tha phantom, I’ll