Aiiwaa Chronicals: Karli's Overture

By D C Bridges

A journey begins for a wayward band of misfit wanderers. Each will have to figure out their role in time, in order to survive. All the players must fall into place before their purpose can be revealed. Actions will generate consequences, and bonds will be made or broken. Fallible fates get entwined with doubtful destiny as a goddess realises that this timeline holds the greatest chance of success.

The chain of events begins with Karli; once overburdened with privilege, life couldn't get much worse for Karlia Kaz Brilden Londvara Imolden. A dictated world of status and riches will soon be ripped away, leaving her to decide for the first time in her life, her own fate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D C Bridges
• Release date: Oct 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9780995325821

Book preview

Aiiwaa Chronicals: Karli's Overture

Aiiwaa Chronicles:

Karli's Overture

Copyright

Copyright © 2017 by D C Bridges

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner what-so-ever by any means already known, or yet to be invented, without written permission with the exception of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of both fantasy and fiction. The characters, incidents, dialogues, and scenarios are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real or defamatory. Any resemblance to persons, places, or actual events, past, present, living or dead, is entirely co-incidental.

TRIGGER WARNING: This book contains strong language, troubling situations, and violence.

First Edition

Bridges, D C

Aiiwaa Chronicles: Karli's Overture

Summary: A journey begins for a wayward band of misfit wanderers. Each will have to figure out their role in time, in order to survive. All the players must fall into place before their purpose can be revealed. Actions will generate consequences, and bonds will be made or broken. Fallible fates get entwined with  doubtful destiny as a goddess realises that this timeline holds the greatest chance of success.

The chain of events begins with Karli; once overburdened with privilege, life couldn't get much worse for Karlia Kaz Brilden Londvara Imolden. A dictated world of status and riches will soon be ripped away, leaving her to decide for the first time in her life, her own fate.

Cover Art: Jason Lamplough

978-0-9953258-2-1

0.0.1

It had taken over a year in the wandering, but finally Forerim had managed his way back to the place he would have rather forgotten about. As the boat approached the  island kingdom and started docking preparations, he leaned on a rail of belaying pins he knew weren’t being used. The wind had kept up a steady resistance all day, so other than the foresail, mainsail, and jib, the crew had cut their responsibilities in half, having no need for the extra speed.

This smaller schooner was a familiar ship on the shores of Zaamaa. Not designed as a passenger ship, the captain wasn’t against ferrying the locals back and forth, when he had the room and they the coin. As the sails descended and the lines were thrown, the few people who paid to be cargo approached the rail, dockside. Once the ship was close, Forerim grabbed the shrouds and lifted himself onto the rail before leaping to the dock, wanting to be clear before the crew started unloading cargo.

Drawing to one side, he stared across the expansive city he had just docked in. It had been some years since he had been home, and it felt a touch unfamiliar now. When he had first left, he had been annoyed with how much taller everyone else on the mainland had been than him. Now that he was back with his own, he couldn’t help thinking how short they all were.

Getting a move on, Forerim hurried to the end of the dock as the traders made one last rush to push their goods, before loading their boats back up or shuffling their carts on. Just wanting to be free of the bustle, he pressed on, focused.

Once away from the docks the crowds began to diversify. The crews and traders gave way to consumers and less bulk manners of commerce. Shoppers covered the entire spectrum, causing Forerim to walk himself into a lantern pole when a group of women wandered by with goods.

Ah, shit... he muttered, as the episode didn’t go unnoticed, drawing a fit of laughter from the women. Ducking around a corner casually, he stopped before one of the few shops that sported glassed windows so he could see his reflection.

Having been such a long haul before reaching the port on the mainland to landing, Forerim hadn’t the chance to clean himself up. There was no way he was going to sneak back into the palace looking as he did. His hair needed washing and cutting badly. It didn’t look as blonde as it was and he had ignored it for nearly two years; the braids someone he had met in his wanderings had requested he keep, were now getting lost in the mess.

Leaning into his reflection, he rubbed the sleeve of his jacket across his face to figure out what was freckle and what was dirt. The only thing that appeared to have remained clean on him was his eyes, for obvious reasons, and the jade green contrast to the various shades of filth only helped to point out that the jacket he was wearing was also in need of a wash. The only thing worse than being trouble, is looking like it... he muttered.

Reaching into the pocket of his  trousers, a quick check was made to see if he had enough coin to stay somewhere the night. He'd need to straighten himself out before making his way through the city and up the extensively lengthy and tiresome cliff range to the palace.

Failing to find anything in his pockets, Forerim pulled his pack to the front, rifling through for the pouch he knew was in there that could cough up a few more coins to help out. Shifting some of his belongings, he located it. Withdrawing the pouch and closing the pack up he slung it back over his shoulder. Hoping the regular businesses he remembered were still trading and open, he cut to the cheap side of town where he’d have less to worry about, especially looking as he did at the moment.

If there was one thing Forerim hadn’t missed while he was away, it was the ridiculous fashions. He had no idea what was in, this season, but it looked horribly uncomfortable as was usually the case. There was far too much lace involved for him to take anyone sporting the look seriously. He prayed when he returned to the palace that they hadn’t changed the usual attire. Every so often the Lady of the House would attempt to implement some vague uniform change that made him glad he was supposed to stay out of sight.

Building quality began to fall as he crossed the invisible boundary between the fashion rich part of the city and the alcohol flooded section. They weren’t of a lesser standard, so much as they were just smaller. Being at the edges of the ever expanding city, most of these buildings were the first constructed, to facilitate the port and commerce that came with it. Primarily wood and plaster constructs, they hadn’t been afforded greens back in the day, so every door opened out into the streets that ran around them.

Cobbled and ignored, the street ran past several locations Forerim was interested in. Avoiding one or two he wasn’t sure he was welcome back in, he opted for a rather large inn and tavern where he knew he could order a bath at. Tugging on his jacket sleeves to ensure his hands were amply covered, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Forerim couldn’t help but smile. Everything was the right height from the handle to the patrons. Having spent so much time around human cities and towns while away, he had gotten used to being a minimum of a foot shorter than everyone else.

It was a small piece of paradise, despite the dodgy appearance of it all, with drunken customers, smokey corners, and windows that were so insignificantly small they barely allowed the light to enter. Not caring about the cosmetics he crossed to the bar and requested the Keep.

Not long after, Forerim had bartered a room and bath out of the situation, retiring to clean himself up. The hair would have to go, but he’d leave the braids as promised. He seriously doubted they were going to make him look more ridiculous than everyone walking around on a fashion mission. When he was sure he had everything back in order and under control, he’d head into the common room for the evening to see if he couldn’t find someone to share his room with.

.o1o.

It had already been a trying day, but Dion was sure he could squeeze a measure more tolerance out of himself, providing the woman he was dealing with would eventually be convinced to sell him the item he wanted. Leaning on the counter with boredom, he waited as she decided to reappraise her own merchandise.

Her shop didn’t look like much, but he was guessing it was this mouse of a human’s pride and joy. Crammed into a corner of a forgotten building, sunken into the ground a few feet, it was barely larger than a bedroom and filled to the gills with every sort of charm, curios, bauble, and long dead relic one could imagine.

The woman herself didn’t look that far displaced from her own stock, being a respectable age Dion reckoned was an impressive sixty years for a human. A head of white hair, a face like a toothless lemon, with the figure of an ill forged kettle, it was debatable if she could even remove herself from behind the counter she guarded.

I just don’t know, Mr. Elf... the woman mused gravely.

Dion, he corrected her.

She turned back towards him with the most ridiculously useless looking device strapped to her face. I don’t normally deal with your likes, Mr. Elf, she informed him, keeping the item to her chest protectively.

Perhaps if you did, you could afford a larger shop, Dion informed her, trying to smile.

All pretty like, with your blonde hair and blue eyes, she mentioned, the device actually serving, at least, to improve her eyesight. Look at you, she smiled coyly with a dismissive wave of a hand.

I’d rather we look at the necklace, he informed her, standing back in the hopes she would place it on the counter.

So you say you know something of this piece? she fished, draping the necklace over her fingers from the chain.

Yes... he revealed. I know it was mentioned in a book of stolen items. Which is why I was surprised to spot it through your window.

If I had known it was stolen, Mr. Elf, I never would have had it in my shop, she stated, still refusing to part with the item.

I’m sure... Dion remarked, reaching into the pocket of his hooded pale robes and placing several silver pieces on the counter. Can we talk price?

Not if that’s your starting offer, she scoffed, regarding the scant collection of coins as though he had just shit on her counter.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Dion reached into his pocket to pull out a gold coin, adding it to the pile. How about now?

Getting there, the woman replied slowly, waiting for the pile to grow.

Appalled by her gall, Dion produced four more silver coins to add to the pile.

Keep going, the woman cautioned him, holding the necklace before her as incentive.

Adding two more silver coins to the pile, Dion regarded her gravely. That is all you’re getting out of me, he informed her straight.

I’m sure you could stretch a bit further, the woman informed him before giving him a critical scowl when he removed one of the silver coins from the pile, dropping it back into his pocket.

I recommend you take it before it reduces further, he warned her, holding one hand forward for the item, while the other waited impatiently over the pile of money.

With great restraint she challenged his threat, glaring at him contemptuously while waiting for the coin to be returned along with some brethren. When Dion removed another silver coin her resolve came to an end and she tossed him the necklace while grabbing the pile of coins off the counter.

Will you be requiring anything further? the shopkeeper asked him pleasantly as she shoveled the coins into an apron she held out to catch them.

Not today, Dion replied, dropping the piece of jewellery into a pocket and making for the door.

Ya sure? she tried, before he could leave. I've got some lovely low cost items in the back corner, fit for the likes of most women, I reckon.

I greatly doubt that, he replied mundanely as he saw himself out and back into the busy streets of the city he had wandered into a day previous.

Human cities were busy, crowded, and smelt bad. Never at a loss for inconveniences, the primarily human occupied middle lands of the mother continent was as undecipherable as it was intolerable; not that being back in the elvin region of Kylea Ly would have been preferable at that point. Understanding he was the source of his own grief, Dion quickly scanned the side streets as he pressed towards the edges of the city.

It took several minutes to locate an adequately vacant lane running between several buildings. Knowing the other half of his party would find him eventually, if he hadn’t already, Dion slipped down the lane and stopped halfway. His wait wasn’t a long one. Turning to scan the entrances again, he felt something impact the back of his hood, the speed of which being brought to an abrupt halt by the fabric.

Did you get it? Dion asked the one who had just arrived, feeling them righting himself.

Yep! he heard the compact voice of his compact companion reply, before feeling them grab his ear and hoist himself onto Dion's shoulder.

Holding his hand open beside his face, Dion waited for the item to be handed over, not needing to see the one he was addressing; in light of sudden head movements often resulting in sudden loss of said companion. When Dion felt the weight of the ring procured, he carried it into sight to confirm it was the right one.

Appreciated, Dion stated while depositing the ring in the same pocket the necklace had been placed in.

Are we done here now? Dion heard asked, as he started departing the narrow path to continue out of the city.

Yes, we’re done in this spot, he confirmed. I'll have something to eat and double check the book once I send these off.

Just warn me before you call Mysahra... his companion requested, falling back into the hood and out of view of any passers-by before they broke out into the main streets.

Relax, Dunn, Dion advised quietly. You’re barely a snack to her.

0.0.2

Annoyed was not how Forerim wanted to wake, but he was quick to fall into it when he remembered he was waking up alone. Adamant he would do everything to turn his luck around he gathered his belongings, resigning himself to reach the palace by mid day. Dropping the key to his room at the bar, he slipped back into the early morning streets, which had yet to wake fully and become overrun with the day’s business.

Cutting back to the fashion conscious section of the city, Forerim made straight up through the area on the main road that would take him to the palace walls. There was still an impressive amount of ground to cover, but he’d take it in strides, and find some food along the way.

As the buildings started growing larger, it became more difficult to keep his path in sight. Traffic slowly became an issue, forcing him to wander the edges of the road to avoid the carts and carriages that were growing in number and ignorance. The closer he got to the royal house the more pious the patrons of the city would become. Their inflated senses of self importance didn’t encourage them much to offer consideration to any pedestrians that chose to traverse their beloved roads surrounding their affluent mansions and manors.

Having pressed on for a few hours, Forerim was beginning to feel the effects of working against the gradual grade of the road as it ascended slowly. Soon he’d be forced to follow the road in a zigzag pattern as it snaked its way up the cliff face to the royal household.

Forerim's luck changed shortly after when he heard his name. Pausing, he listened for it again to ensure he had indeed heard correctly, turning back to spot a familiar face. Long rich brown hair that framed a graceful face, a little too top heavy for such a small frame, but the most amazing brown eyes he could ever remember seeing.

A familiar face that came with a mode of transportation, in the form of an older model of carriage that had been passed down to the staff to collect goods and supplies from the city. Not caring less how tacky the overly ornate white carriage with its failing gold leafed trim was, Forerim dashed over to accept the lift as the woman who had called him over held the door open.

You are a god send, Shamira, he bid the woman as he climbed inside, offering her a kiss on the cheek.

Long time no see, stranger, she replied in like to his use of the common language, pulling herself back into her seat across from him. Shutting the door, she called forward for the driver to carry on.

Too long, Forerim replied, setting his pack on the floor and pushing it to one side. You are the first familiar face I have run into, and by far the most welcoming vision a man in my situation could have asked for.

Chuckling softly, Shamira shook her head. So, not much has changed with you? she asked critically.

Ah, don’t be like that, he replied, smiling good naturedly. Since when has it been in bad taste to offer a woman a compliment so rightly deserved?

Let’s see, she replied thoughtfully. How about ever since she gained favour with Prisely while you were away, she replied.

Young and stupid is a very valid excuse, Forerim replied, refusing to be put off. Knowing that even in a carriage it would be some time before they reached the palace, he opened his pack and withdrew a massive book of indeterminable age in case the conversation continued to be futile. It’s been five years since I left. I’ve done much and seen many things, and returned changed in many ways, he reassured her a little too casually.

Thinking it best to not press the issue further before it slipped from his reach, Forerim sat back in his seat, opening the tomb. Picking a random location to start in he read over what was offered.

What’s that? Shamira asked, leaning forward to investigate. Forerim wondered how long he could go without replying before she’d notice, as the angle her curiosity placed her at left much to be appreciated. She glanced up when he failed to reply.

It’s a book about Paradise, the Golden City, and all things related, he told her truthfully.

Really? she asked with genuine interest.

Switching sides, Forerim sat down beside her with the book and laid it across both of their legs so she could see. Running her hand down the page softly, Shamira traced some of the detail around the edges.

So what does it say? she inquired softly. I still can’t read common well... Especially when it’s written like this… she confessed, pulling the book across into her lap alone.

It says, Forerim began, leaning towards her and regarding the book thoughtfully. If you want to discover paradise, meet me behind the palisades following final duties tonight.

Sighing with annoyance, Shamira shut the book and handed it back to him, pushing him out of the seat beside her and back across the cabin. Shaking her head, she crossed her arms and legs. It’s like you never left, she informed him with reserved amusement. I seriously have half a mind to let you go back to walking...

Losing that round, Forerim returned to reading the book. Glancing out the carriage window occasionally, he found himself growing nervous the closer they got. He was supposed to have returned ages ago but had gotten too caught up in things away from the island. While he was away he had given little thought towards his responsibilities. Now that he was back, he was undecided if he should have returned at all.

Brambly quit shortly after you left, Shamira decided to share, falling back on work as a conversation point.

Really? he asked with surprise, closing the book as he did. Do you know why?

No one really knows, Shamira shrugged. But I figured I’d share that with you because her replacement ended up being your mother. So she might be harder to get a hold of these days with her new duties.

That’s great news in one way, but too bad about Brambly.

As I understand it, it was her choice to leave. It wasn’t a forced resignation or anything of that sort, she added, staring out the window.

Do I still have my room? he asked next hopefully.

Yes, she confirmed. Your mother holds the only key for it, so she was adamant that no one was taking it. It’s so far out of the way I can’t see anyone wanting it anyway, Shamira remarked dully. You should have hoped they gave it away than gotten a better one closer to everyone else. No one wants to live that close to the Princesses’ wing, for the amount she kicks off...

It’s never bothered me. I prefer to be out of the way. Means people who want me to do work have to make an effort to reach me, he replied. Here’s good! he suddenly blurted as the carriage started making its final approach towards the palace entrance.

Banging on the carriage wall, the driver responded to Shamira's command by halting the carriage. Grabbing his belongings up, Forerim opened the door, turning back to Shamira.

Thanks so much for the lift, he bid her, before quickly stealing a kiss and jumping out of the carriage. Skirting the massive hedgerow that towered along the side of the road, he dashed along it to its end, disappearing around the corner.

Minding the steep drop off to the right that came up on him suddenly, Forerim pulled his pack on properly while locating the spot where the wall on his left met the end of the hedge. Finding a starting point between the two, he managed his way to the top of the wall some fifty feet above, peering over apprehensively. It was a relaxed air and a nonthreatening set up with very few guards posted.

Nothing violent ever happened at the royal palace. The guards were more there for show, or to question anyone who didn’t look as though they belonged. The parameter was rarely ever kept under surveillance. There had been no major incidents on the grounds in over a century. This fact continued to make Forerim's job an easy one. Pulling himself onto the top edge of the wall, he darted quickly towards the south wing of the castle that came within range.

The lower section of the south wing was the kitchen and coach house. A barn had been built against the actual wall itself, which Forerim had discovered when he was younger, gave him something to jump down onto that would afford him taking that route instead of the more dangerous crossing the grounds approach.

Reaching the required point, Forerim vaulted off the wall and onto the barn roof, touching down as quietly as possible. Finding the loft hatch, he lifted it and threw his pack down into the hay below. Jumping down after it, he picked it back up and dusted it off while approaching the ladder. Putting his pack back on, he slid down the ladder and cut for the side access door. Not finding anyone working in the building, he slipped out the side into the kitchen’s garden. Sticking to the paths, he wound his way through the army of herbs and edible goods growing there to reach the kitchen door.

Goddess bless! someone greeted him brightly as he entered the kitchen. Didn’t think you were coming back this time, said the cook. An oddly portly woman with her hair tucked under a bonnet, she crossed to receive a kiss on the cheek and beamed. Her trademark classic tribal face band made her unmistakable among the staff at the palace, being the only Brovik on the payroll. Maybe your being home will stop all the snipping and snidery Tressia’s been assaulting us with, she told him hopefully. She’s been promoted ya know, first maid to the Lady herself now.

Sha already filled me in, Rind, Forerim told her. I’d hang around and catch up, but I have to address a few things first. On that note he slipped out of the kitchen and into the staff foyer where he was met by four sets of stairs. Choosing the top left set, he darted up it and disappeared into the servant’s hallways for the west wing.

Hurrying along the cramped hallway that was barely wide enough to accommodate a single person, he encountered a very typical situation when another employee started approaching from the other direction. Thankfully another known face, he didn’t have to make an excuse for his presence there.

Forerim! the woman piped, standing before him and exchanging a kiss on the cheek. You get lost this time? she joked kindly as Forerim dropped his pack to floor level and she held the tray she was carrying above their heads.

Just a little, he confessed as they made to squeeze past each other sideways. Once clear they continued on as though never interrupted.

A few turns later, Forerim located the door out into the half level hallway where his room was located. Slipping out and closing the door behind him, before he had the chance to turn around he heard someone behind him.

So..? a very familiar critical voice greeted him.

Sorry I’m late, he apologised, turning to face Tressia who had been waiting for him to emerge from hiding. Sharing the same blonde hair but at extremely differing lengths, her blue eyes retained a measure of acuteness that warned him she wasn’t happy with him.

The prodigal son returns, she replied heavily. Late is an understatement of grave disproportion, she pointed out, crossing to hug him warmly.

Congratulations on the promotion, he deviated, standing back to scrutinise the overly flamboyant change in uniform she sported. Brambly had worn some pretty outfits, but the one Tressia had on was over the top.

Can you even breathe in that dress? he asked next when she only glared at him disapprovingly. It wasn’t a rhetorical question.

The skirt fashion wasn’t that dire, with the base layer being wide and long with two waist tails that perched away from the skirt with a ridiculous curve. The top half however was very obviously corseted with sleeves that looked to taper in at six points each to form pillows.

Where have you been? she demanded, cutting to the chase.

A lot of places, he replied, approaching the door to his room. Knowing there had been the chance a letter from the courts of a city named Warhaven had beaten him back, he was relieved she was unaware. I got carried away, I know. The door was still locked. Not removing his hand from the handle, he looked at Tressia expectantly.

Handing him back the key to the door from the extensive ring of keys she had hidden beneath one of the skirt’s tails, she waited for him to unlock it, following him inside.

"Get yourself changed, put your