The Temple Builders: The Firstborn's Legacy: Steward Stories, #2

By Beth Wangler

In the decade since Tiran received a Sword of Champions, he feels like he's figured out what it means to be Swordbearer. He travels around the peninsula for most of the year settling disputes among Maraians and protecting them from the violent nations surrounding them. Usually Nihal, the other Swordbearer, travels with him.

A missionto defend a city from the giant Aimarines starts exactly as Tiran would expect, but then he finds himself facing a new kind of opposition. This opposition could take everything from him: his confidence in Aia's will, his life, and worst of all his calling. With all certainty gone, Tiran must decide who he is and discover what it truly means to be a Steward.

"The Temple Builders" is the fourth story in "The Firstborn's Legacy" series and the second story in the "Steward Stories" subseries.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beth Wangler
• Release date: Dec 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386200666

Beth Wangler

Beth Wangler has loved stories since before she could read. Growing up, she had a voracious appetite for books and loved nothing better than losing herself in a story. On one particular day around third grade, Beth paused in reading to realize that she could add books to the world, too.  She’s been writing ever since. Beth predominantly writes speculative fiction, though she occasionally branches out into poetry or historical fiction. She writes to entertain, to share hope, and to explore truth.  When not writing, she teaches History and English, reads, and crochets. Beth has written two more fairy tales, The Kagraffs' Curse and Noemi's Dragon, both available for free at https://bethwangler.wordpress.com/. Her fantasy novel, Child of the Kaites, will be published in 2018.

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The Firstborn’s Legacy:

Steward Stories #2

The Temple Builders

Beth Wangler

Copyright © 2018 by Beth Wangler

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Beth Wangler

www.bethwangler.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

ISBN:

Thank you to Mom, E.B. Dawson, and Ashley Hansen, who were of immeasurable help with editing this story. Special thanks to E.B. Dawson, J.E. Purrazzi, and S.M. Holland for sprinting with and encouraging me as I finished drafting and revised this story.

"When you eat and are satisfied,

be careful that you do not forget the Lord,

who brought you out of Egypt,

out of the land of slavery."

~Deuteronomy 6:11-12

The Temple Builders

The lines of the new stone wall around the city of Beth Elgarnoseth were still crisp, though they were beginning to age.  Green moss, nourished by the recently-melted snows, clung to the shadows.  A dandelion poked its yellow head through a thin crevice.

Peace to you—and welcome, Tiran! the gatekeeper grinned.  It’s been a while.

I was home this winter, Tiran explained after returning the man’s greeting.  My brother’s turning carpenter and needed some help building a workshop when the snows melted, so I’m just getting back out on the road.  He adjusted the strap holding his Sword to his back.  The position would have hindered him in battle, but Tiran had never used his Sword as a weapon.

Well, glad you’re back at it.  Things are good ‘round here, no mistake, but those Xendroqites always start giving us trouble not long into the new year.

Tiran absentmindedly reached for the charm hanging from his neck.  The ridges of the letters carved into it comforted his fingertips, a promise of who was protecting the gatekeeper and himself.  Aia will defend us.  Trust in Him, and we don’t need to fear all the Xendroqites, Coarnomites, and Aimarines together.

"Hae-Aia," the gatekeeper agreed and let him pass.

The busy cacophony inside the walls warmed Tiran’s heart.  Beth Elgarnoseth, the Champions’ City in Charn, would never compare to the quiet cottage by the sea that he shared with his brother, sister-in-law, and nephews, but it was a close second.  He stepped onto the path and let the activity sweep him up in its arms.

Tiran was near the marketplace when gold hair caught his attention.  The delicate tendrils of the guard of the Sword hanging from her back made Nihal easy to identify.  Tiran wove toward her, finding a path through the current of busy citizens with care not to inconvenience any of them.  Just as Tiran reached her, Nihal exchanged a single scroll for a folded pile of fabrics.

Tiran was surprised.  Only people who could read wanted scrolls, and he wouldn’t have expected a weaver to be literate.  He himself couldn’t read more than two words—and that was only because they were engraved on the chanavea he’d worn his whole life.

Pleasure doing business, the tradeswoman told her, and Nihal almost ran smack into Tiran.

Peace to you, he grinned, catching the toppling mountain of cloth in her arms.

Tiran!  Nihal moved to hug him, remembered the fabric she carried, and instead nudged him with her elbow.  May it also return to you.  We’ve been wondering what was keeping you so long!

Let me help you with that.  I was—

Nihal handed half of her pile off to him.  "Wait, come to the house.  Blaedon will never forgive me if I