The Key of Kings

By L.A. Griffin

When 13-year-old Paul Aderston goes on holiday with his parents, he does not suspect anything out of the ordinary will happen. Then, he meets a strange man named Dorian Lunarses who transports Paul to Alterra, a magical world. Before he knows what is happening, Paul faces the greatest challenge and adventure of his life. He meets powerful rulers, encounters bizarre creatures, and defeats sinister villains, all on a courageous quest to save the Key of Kings. Paul's unwavering bravery inspires the friends he makes on his journey, but can it save him from his enemies?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543973495

Book preview

Rulers

CHAPTER ONE

The Meeting of the Masters

Rain drummed heavily off the roofs, running steadily down and onto the speckled pavement. Sometimes it only managed to flood the cobblestones, but people, hurrying into their houses, often felt the cold water also as it stopped them in its wake. Many of these people pushed large carts on wheels ahead of them, stopping occasionally to readjust the cloth tarps that protected the contents of the vessels from the merciless cascades. There were no grumbles, no cursing as the icy droplets plinked and snapped where the would, so often on the rushing figures. Several curiosities however were revealed as lightning flashed in the distance and illuminated the dark streets of the city. For one thing, not a single umbrella was visible in the hands of the anyone out in the storm. There were only cloaks, cloaks of all colors, that were being pulled now from around shoulders and out of satchels, to be hastily thrown on as the people continued on their way. Another surprise was the absence of cars on the narrow streets, not a single vehicle except the carts was distinguishable out of the blackness of night.

In the heart of the city stood a wide forum decorated now by dozens of dancing torch flames that bravely held fast against the battering rain pellets. Men and women were scuttling to and fro in great numbers, many bustling down adjacent streets and alleys in their flight from the cold. Many though were left behind, shaking water out of their hair as they moved the vendors stalls out of the way and under the gables of surrounding buildings. Many loud commands were uttered back and forth over the howling sleet, and soon the job was finished, the remaining party now also dispersing into the shadows, their cries growing faint and at last extinguished. All that could be heard now was the issuing pops as the rain laid waste to the only thing it could torment now, the ground itself. But even a storm cannot last forever, and before long, what had been a war of nature was now reduced to a drizzle that whispered and crept over the sleepy town.

Finally, the last candle lights went out in the windows and the blackness truly became apparent. Yet, even as a night bird cried in the distance, the town was not truly all asleep. From out of an alley, and into the light of a torch, crept two creatures with their noses to the ground and tails swishing and sweeping behind them. Snuffling and panting, the wolves slunk at a rapid pace until they were safely in the forum, but they did not stop there. With incredible bounds that carried them over a six-foot high wall in an instant, the landed on the other side, finding themselves in a garden with a fountain of stone in the center. Only, they were not wolves anymore. The two men now crouched on their haunches with their glowing yellow eyes firmly fixed on the door ahead. In an instant they were on their feet again and the larger of the pair led the way to the door, giving a great knock on the wooden frame without using the owl-shaped handle.

I hope that we are not too late, murmured his companion in a smooth and stern voice. He was a tall man with remarkably sharp features as though he was a statue carved from marble. As far as anyone could see, all of the clothes that he wore were black as were the high leather boots that came up just below his knees. From his neck however, dangled a tassel of silver that gleamed brilliantly in the night, and from the tassel, so small it could hardly be seen, was a rusty key.

Well, we shall know soon, the first growled in return. He had a gruffer voice, as if he was not used to speaking at all. Unlike his partner’s neat appearance, this man was shaggier and had a wild expression that stayed transfixed on his face.

They had waited in silence for five minutes, and just as the second man with the smooth voice was about to rap upon the door again, it opened and they were suddenly bathed in light. The person on the other side could not be seen clearly in the blaze of the light, but a brisk, quick, come inside, told them exactly who it was. They were inside in an instant and the host shut the door hastily. She was a young woman with a lovely, slender, face, with short black hair with only one long braid that wrapped around her head. Her dress was of simple state, but the diamonds about her neck shone in testament to her royal status. Come, they are waiting, she said as she swept down the hall, the two men falling into step behind. Along the walls hung portraits of men, women, and children all dressed finely. Their stares followed the men as they glanced away as though embarrassed or humbled to be looked upon by the painted faces up above.

As they approached the double doors that stood at the end of the hall, the taller man felt his companion tense beside him. Don’t be afraid, Lugri, you have met all of them before. From the other side of the doors came the muffled sounds of a heated conversation, of chairs moving across wood, of fists pounding the table. The shaggy one, Lugri, swallowed and mopped his head with his arm. If it pleases you, your advisor may stay with me for now, the woman hastily explained, for now, only your majesties may pass beyond these doors. Relieved, Lugri turned and tried his best to look apologetic to his companion. A ghost of a smile passed over the man’s expressionless face. He nodded amicably and knocked three times. Upon the third rap, they swung open and he was suddenly face to face with the people on the other side. Dorian, my boy. Grey haired and majestic, the elderly man rose gracefully and bowed his head. Come in, my child. Come in, and tell us your story. Shadows flitted over the stone and brick, growing large as they were caught in the glow of the firelight, elongating eerily overhead of the assembly. The group was not large, and, at a glance, it was clear that there were, in fact, only six faces to be seen in the faint light. Around a table, with hands clasped in their laps or out in front of them, they waited for one of their order to speak. In time, the eldest member, the man from before opened his mouth and began to talk slowly, reassuringly.

If what you say is true, my child, then we must monitor the barrier’s movement carefully. The speaker, whoever he was, for it was certainly the old man speaking, was gesturing at the tall one across from his seat. Whenever such a storm arises then there is sure to be mischief of a darker side behind it. Nature is not our ally this night, and now you say that it is not the first time that you have felt it ravage a kingdom?

The storm has only altered its course but a little, the man’s glowing eyes narrowed in a thoughtful way. For the past week, it has barely ceased its harsh torrents on my wood. My people are now too afraid of its might to venture far from their homes. We may be vigilant and hopeful, but we can only stand so long against a force of this earth herself.

But as it was not one of us, clearly it means to do another harm with such magic. Another voice was speaking, raspy and snakish. The sound was not unpleasant, however, the noise a new book makes when opened for the first time. It is magic, no question about it. Martra Hya came up with a name to label it by, but my weary memory fails me. It is crucial that we make out at once to find the sorcerer responsible for such conjurings as this.

Aye, a third voice growled in, Now, as I see it, the question remains, where and when do we suppose it will strike next? Will it go back to where it began or will it plunder on? Such a storm has not moved so intentionally since days of old, before the great war of these lands.

The next person did not exactly make audible or cohesive language, but instead tapped the table with his fingers as a pianist does at his instrument. It was an unintelligible pattern to unaccustomed ears, but the others at the assembly seemed to understand perfectly. The figure with the golden eyes, spoke reassuringly as a mother does to a frightened child. Of course it will never come to the trouble that was caused in times gone by, for those brave heroes saw to that. All we must do is find the instigator of this trouble and put a stop to his havoc. If we act now, we can end this trouble before it even begins. Have no fear.

The old man, gentle and authoritative, entered the conversation once more. The speaker whispered his words like a father talking to his children. I admire and appreciate your willingness to duty but who is to say that we are overestimating our own judgement. King Conor is right, we do not know the pattern of the storm yet.

Silence followed this statement, silence only broken by the occasional creak of oak chairs, and shifting hands. From outside, thunder rumbled to the east and the south. The storm had left the city but was still at large. At last the final affiliate in the room, the one who had not said anything for the longest time, spoke in his low and smooth tone.

I think I know where it means to go. If my hunch is correct, then I must return to my home at once.

The oldest one’s eyes narrowed for but a moment and then he asked solemnly, Will you be able to defeat it alone, my son, whatever it is and whoever has conjured it? We may not reach you in time to be of proper support if it comes to an altercation as I we hope it shall not.

Should it come between me and my people, then I will find the power to stop it single-handedly. Fear and destruction did nothing to shake my father, and I will honor his courage with my own.

Reassured, the former nodded. Very well, it is over.

There was a clattering of chairs; the meeting had come to an end.

CHAPTER TWO

The Family In the Woods

In the summertime, when the waters of the coast were kissed by the sun and the bluffs teamed with wildflowers and sea birds, the trees to the east of the bay glowed the truest green that anyone could wish to see. Pine trees, fir trees, almost all of them towering ten feet from the ground. While the sea of blue shimmered down below, the sea of laden branches waved gently in the summer breeze concealing everything beneath the leafy branches, everything including the town. It was there, although it was far from the tremendous, natural beauty that lay all about it.

The town lay on the southern edge of the woods. It was small, not a common destination, and rested in solitude. Houses were scattered around the town’s center which was nothing except several small stores, many of which were left unstaffed for the better portion of the year. In fact hardly any of these establishments were ever operational all at once or when you needed them. No one lived there all year round, no one wanted to. The woods were a formidable wall of darkness from the ground that enveloped you the moment you set foot in their realm and only the bravest hiker or traveler would walk in them. With the next town seventy miles to the north, the seclusion served only as an addition to the eerie peace.

It was not just the undiscovered secrets that the forest concealed that kept many from setting foot beyond the border. For a time, the description of strange creatures spotted in those woods was the subject on every lip. From time to time, a hiker would see some sign of movement or a flick of color dancing through the trees. One scared man had once even said that he had been wandering through the foliage and had sworn that he had seen a tall dark figure creeping along the path in front of him. The subject became so alarming that parents forbade their children to play anywhere near these woods, not that many families lived around those parts anyway.

One family that lived there however, did not seem fazed in the slightest by these stories. This family was probably the most discerning of any who lived in the area but only came to the town in the summer. Actually, they lived a few miles outside the town and closer to the woods. They of course were considered as strange and mysterious as the woods themselves, possibly even more so. Therefore, not a soul ever knew or inquired about the man and woman’s occupations back home, or indeed where they lived when they were not to be found in that part of the country. All the people knew, was that the couple had a young child, a boy whose age they never knew. He was of average height, slender build, with a head of dark hair. If the neighbors had had the chance to meet him, they would have seen that he resembled his father in his bold nature, but had his mother’s gentle mannerisms. When it came to the stories and rumors of the woods, he too ignored the warnings of danger with deaf ears. In all of his years playing, exploring, and roaming the forest, nothing had ever seemed out of the ordinary. The trees, the plants, the animals, they beckoned to him with all the peace and quiet of their habitat. With each time he visited the woods, the child’s knowledge and respect for the assets of nature grew as he explored further and further into the mysterious void.

In the thirteenth summer of his life, they came as they always did. They escaped from the bustling hassle of urban life to find solace and recluse under the trees and beside the shimmering sea. They were a small family enjoying each other’s company as they always did whenever they traveled to this spot. The tiny car pulled into the driveway with a crunch of tires over asphalt and stopped before the front door, as they got out and began to unpack. There was no garage, for the house, while charmingly accommodating, was small.

As soon as they had finished unpacking, he turned to his mother and father, asking quietly, politely, Please may I go and explore? It was a habit for him to ask this question whenever they arrived, even though he already knew what the answer would be.

Of course, darling, his mother said. Nodding his agreement, his father cautioned, Remember to stay on the path and do not go beyond the old bridge. Nodding eagerly, the boy ran out of the house, past the car, down the deck steps and onto the path that took him into the trees where no one else dared to go alone. It was a beautiful day, the shadows from the trees darkening the atmosphere, but certainly not in a sinister way. Far off in the distance, the sound of ocean waves pummeled the bluffs. Beneath the branches of leaves, the forest was cool and rich with the earthy scents of ferns, rotting wood, and the trickling stream that stuck to side of the path. Water, both salt and fresh, was plentiful in those parts and so an opportunity to drink from the stream was not something to be passed up. He had promised to stay on the path, and the boy did not easily betray his parent’s trust. He decided that the best compromise was to drink under the shade of the bridge. After a miles walk, it was gratifying to rest and look up at once had been the only way over the river. Long ago, the inhabitants must have carried water, or fished on the bridge with friends. It must have been long ago, for today, their descendants did not share such stout-hearted daring.

At last, the boy reached the river bank and collapsed onto his knees to scoop water into his mouth. Up above, the planks provided shelter, but were too unpredictable, too loose, to serve their true purpose. The occasional thunderstorms that Spring brought to the woods did not help the bridge’s cause and the left flight of stairs had met their fate crushed under a fallen pine. The stream was shallow, hardly deep enough to wade in, but swift to keep the water in rapid circulation. As he drank, the child marveled at how fresh and sweet the water tasted, better than anything else he could think of. After he had gulped down all the water he could, the boy sat back to content himself by picking up