The Legend of Lithra - Book One

By Tyler Rhea

The ebook version of the Legend of Lithra, written by Tyler Rhea. This is the story of Selane, a young boy chosen by fate to assist Lithra, an aging enchanter in the quest to recover a powerful sword stolen by the enchanter's former apprentice, Resca. Their chase will lead through many perils. Will they be able to stop Resca before he begins a war that could destroy the north?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781304573728

Book preview

The Legend of Lithra

Book One

By Tyler Rhea

Dedicated to my brothers.

Copyright Tyler Rhea 2012

Foreword

I’ve heard it said that fledgling authors ought to write a million words before they publish anything. Considering this sound advice, I decided to join with my brother Joshua in creating a story as a way for us to do something together and for me to gain experience as a writer. The Legend of Lithra was the result. Based roughly on an idea of Josh’s, we worked together throughout this book, although the final writing is entirely mine.

We decided to release the book online, in serial format, with small sections being released each week. Although I have tried to smooth the transitions between each episode, you may still notice some slightly disjointed scenes. Major section breaks have been denoted by the triple dot symbol.

You can still read the story in its original format at http://lithra.wordpress.com/. This version has been through slight revisions and some proofreading. It should be noted that this book is essentially a draft, as I have not done any major rewriting to it, a diamond in the rough sort of approach. This is not usually the case for books, but since this was designed as a practice story I’m not concerned.

Still, it was fun to write, and as of this writing the sequel (also a practice endeavor,) is in full swing online. I hope you enjoy this journey as much as I did, and when I gain the experience to tackle one of my personal projects, perhaps you’ll see fit to follow there as well.

-Tyler Rhea

PART I: The Chase

Prologue

As a young boy, I had heard vague stories of the legend of Lithra’s sword, but I never really paid much attention to it until the day the stranger came. According to legend, Lithra was a powerful enchanter, wise and respected by all. At the height of his power, he set out to create his great work, the apex of his craft, as all enchanters do, that their works may serve as a memorial after they are gone. These objects are powerful, and rare, for there are few enchanters at any one time, and powerful ones are rarer still. Lithra’s great work was his sword. He traveled far and wide with his pupil, Resca, looking for the most talented swordsmith in all Nadra. One day, they met the smith Kalrag, and began the great task.

Long they labored, with Lithra casting mighty spells over the sword in each stage of its construction. After many weeks, the sword was finished. Its blade was keener than the wind, and never dulled. They said it could cut through shields like a scythe through the grass, and whoever held it found themselves with all the skill of the greatest warriors in the land. I had heard a great deal of conflicting rumors about other spells that lay on it as well. Although none could agree on what these spells were, all that spoke of it knew it had some supernatural powers. He named it for himself, Sa'Lithra, the Sword of Lithra.

Alas, Resca, treacherous in his heart, and seeking power without effort, stole the sword as Lithra slept, on the very night of its completion. He fled to parts unknown, and Lithra, desperate that the sword not fall into the wrong hands, went looking for his traitorous apprentice. That was twenty years ago, and nobody seemed to have heard whether he found it or not. It was assumed he was still looking for it. However, although I enjoyed the tales, they had no more bearing on me than the stories of the winged men of the north.

All of that changed one day when a bedraggled old man stumbled into the inn my father owned. His clothes were worn with travel, and he looked as though he had skipped a few meals as of late. However, the first thing I noticed about him was the spray of blood across his face.

Chapter One: Meetings and Departures

The old man leaned on the rough wooden tables that cluttered the front room of the inn. He was breathing heavily. Immediately, my father rushed over, hurriedly asking questions, while my mother promptly filled a bowl with water and attempted to clean the blood from his face. Surprisingly, there was no wound. The stranger managed to answer my father's incessant questions. It seemed he had been traveling with a companion when they were attacked by bandits. My father knew about the bandits that had decided to prey on this area. I often heard him cursing them under his breath when he counted up the finances at night. Not nearly enough travelers were reaching the inn these days. Apparently however, after the initial attack, the old man had driven them off by himself, since his younger companion had been killed immediately. His story did not seem very credible, but my father didn’t press the point for the time being, and instead offered the man a room, which he gratefully accepted.

As he turned around to gather his belongings, I suddenly noticed the long, deadly-looking sword beneath his long robes. It was sheathed in a plain black scabbard, but the glitter of cold steel caught my eye, and I thought that I saw a curious symbol inscribed on it. Now that it was clean, I could see his face, long and thin, with  a prominent nose. He certainly wasn’t very fair to look at, but he seemed in good health for someone of such an age. I wondered if he was a nobleman, I knew they lived longer, due to their gentler lives, and the sword certainly seemed to support the story. It seemed beautiful, from the glimpses I caught of it, and certainly no common man could afford such a well-crafted weapon. My train of thought was interrupted when my mother called me to fetch more water.

•••

That night, the thought of old man and his gleaming sword was like an itch, and no matter what theory I concocted, my curiosity could not be satiated. Finally, I could bear it no more, and quietly as I could, I crept down the ladder to the main room. Our guests stayed on the ground floor, in a section behind the main room. I crept down the hall, seeming not to breathe, with no sure idea of what I was going to do. Surprisingly, a candle flickered in the old man’s room. What on earth could he be doing at this hour? I peeked around the door, trying not to be seen. The old man was leaning over the simple table that furnished the room. On it lay a flat black stone. It was rough but glossy, and I guessed it to be a piece of coal or flint.  His fingers twisted over it, tracing strange paths. Then I heard the chanting. Slow, deep, and unintelligible, although quiet. If I’d been any farther away I wouldn’t have heard it at all. But the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I began to have serious doubts about spying on this man.

All at once, his chanting stopped. and I froze. I noticed that the stone lying on the table suddenly became clear, with the faintest tinge of blue at the center. He was an enchanter!

I had heard of them of course, but never expected to see one. They were an uncommon sight, as one had to be born with the knack, and they were always on important business. I supposed he must be on his way to some other land, on an important mission or pilgrimage of some kind.  I wondered what the stone was for, when suddenly I was gripped by an unseen force, and drawn into the room. My feet left the ground, and I was suspended, struggling in mid-air, with no visible means of support. The old man stood up and turned around.

Well, Selane, you're just as curious I thought. Interesting, isn’t it? he said, gesturing to the stone. His words carried no malice, but just a hint of frustration.  I looked at his face. It was clean-shaven and well maintained for a traveler. He still had all his teeth, which were whiter then I would have expected, and his thinning hair was grey. A large, hooked nose that looked like it might have been broken a few times was prominent, but all these were noted in a quick glance. It was his eyes that held me. Dark eyes, with some depth to them that I could not understand. It was like looking down a shaded well, with clear water on the surface, deepening into blackness, containing secrets best kept that way. And yet they seemed to flicker with an unknown light, curious for such an old man. My dear old grandfather had been around the same age when he died, and his eyes had been weak and dull with age.

Gathering the courage to speak, I asked, though it seemed redundant of an enchanter, how he knew my name. I wasn't sure if enchanters could read minds or not, although ancient history seemed to mention such things.

Well, it’s quite simple, boy, your father told me while you were out getting water. he replied, thankfully proving my theory wrong. But I suppose what you really want to know is what I am. Apparently he found all the answer he needed in my expression. He muttered a few words in some arcane language, and I slowly sank to the ground again. A ring on his finger glittered briefly, and I noticed he wore several of them, all simple and unadorned.

Well, he continued. Quite frankly, I am in no way obligated to explain myself to young men who creep into my room at night, but I suppose it will do little harm to teach you a thing or two. Perhaps it will discourage you from implicating yourself in other people's affairs. I thought that perhaps if I was going to be persuaded to keep to myself, being lifted into the air by an invisible force might have done it, but I kept my mouth shut, sensing that I was about learn something exciting.

He proceeded. My name is Lithra. I was born in the city of Conford to the north. I recognized the name, from the tale I had heard several years ago.

"The Lithra? I interrupted excitedly. Creator of the Stormcleaver and Ketran’s Bane? The Lithra of Sa'Lithra?"

So it seems you know me already, he replied. I suppose there has been time for the tale to spread. If you hadn’t heard, I am still looking for my sword, and that black-hearted traitor. However, I am delayed now. I always travel with a companion for safety, and Phenrar, my friend of many years, was slain by the bandits that attacked us. I was sleeping, or I could have saved him. He sighed, long and slow. Well, at least he is avenged and can sleep easily. Those bandits are no longer an issue.

I had a sudden and terrifying thought of how dangerous it would be to aggravate this man, and then thought again of the sword he carried. Your sword, then. It must be…

Enchanted? Yes, even more so now that I am getting on in years. Its name is Avenger, for that is the task for which it was made. I am getting closer now, I almost have that- that- he seemed unable to summon an appropriate curse, - that Resca. And strangely enough, I think you could help me.

M-me? I stammered, suddenly overwhelmed. What possible use could an enchanter have for someone like me? If you wanted, you could kill a hundred men merely by saying so!

Quiet down. You and I are the only ones awake. As for your question, it is not as simple as you think. Enchanting has rules, and they can break me much easier than I could them. Besides, I am getting on in years, and it is becoming harder to use my spells. I could use your help.

I began to protest again, but he cut me off. "Listen to me for a moment. The only difference between enchanters and anyone else is that I have the ability to build spells. That is all. A shape, or a pathway, for the magic to travel through. Anyone can use the existing spell to power it, and accomplish its purpose, so long as they have the strength for it. As an enchanter, yes, I am skilled, but as a magician, I am of fairly average strength, especially as I grow older. You, however, may be a different story.

"As an enchanter, I have a sense of a person’s strength. Not of their physical strength, but that of their will, their inner strength. It is that strength which powers spells, and I believe you have potential. With practice, you could likely power a spell better than I ever could. I need assistance if I am to defeat Resca, especially where he is far younger than I.

Besides, he added. A strong young back would be useful on the road. I said nothing. I did not want to speak out of turn again, and despite what he had told me, I still felt rather intimidated. When he did not speak for several moments, I hazarded a sentence.

I would like to come.

Are you sure? he asked. I do not wish you to come unless you are absolutely certain. It will be perilous, and it is possibly a lost hope, but I cannot give up the chase. It is my responsibility, and I will force no one else to share it with me.

I am willing to come. I said, more emphatically. My father keeps saying it's past time for me to be apprenticed anyway, and I've always wanted to travel. Besides, in spite of the danger, it was an adventure! And if later on I decided to choose a safer career, enchanters always had a great deal of connections and contacts, and I doubted I would end up much worse off for having traveled with one. The only difficulty I can see is that my father may not be as willing.

I don’t think that will be an issue. Lithra replied, and then excused me from the room.

•••

I awoke the next morning, already anxious. The more I imagined it, the more I wanted to go. I had met many people in the inn, from all walks of life and locations all across the North, and their tales only served to fuel my curiosity. Even the occasional visit to Cove or Waygate was exciting to me. And the idea that I could be part of a chase so amazing, it was already considered legend while still occurring, combined to create such a desire in me it almost pained me to think about staying. The thought of danger hardly entered my mind. Besides, I was sure I could handle any trouble along the way. Even if worst came to worst, I would still be traveling with an enchanter, wouldn't I? Every moment I thought of it increased my desire to accompany this stranger on his quest.

I said scarcely a word all morning. I think my mother knew something was occupying my mind, but she didn’t bring it up. That was fine with me. I didn’t particularly want them to know about my snooping, at least not without Lithra to back me up. Soon after, Lithra came to the front room, and asked if he could speak to my parents. He carried in his hands the stone I had seen the night before. My parents agreed, and stepped into my father’s business room. I paced back and forth nervously, listening to the indistinct murmur of voices behind the closed door, until finally I could stand the suspense no longer, and pressed my ear against the wood. I heard Lithra’s voice first.

- I know its a bit sudden, but really, at sixteen, it’s about time he was apprenticed, isn’t it? There are far worse people to assist than myself. As an enchanter, I know a great deal of important individuals. I could easily make sure your boy is appointed to a good position once this is over, or earlier if the danger is too great for him.

I heard a sigh. It sounded like my mother. I suppose you may be right. I've always imagined that perhaps he'd stay here and take over the inn from his father one day, but it's obvious he's too adventurous for that, at least while he's young. I’ve not been looking forward to the day Selane left for apprenticeship, but I suppose I can’t delay it any longer. What bothers me though, is his safety. What you’ve been describing is extremely dangerous. How do we know he won’t be killed like your companion?

Lithra spoke again. I have been considering this since the interruption last night- my father coughed, annoyed. I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. And I have decided that I will allow Selane to wear my own safeguards until he can look after himself.

My father spoke this time, his voice low and a bit suspicious. And how do we know it will work? Your stone doesn’t prove you’re an enchanter. I could take it to the next village and claim I made it.

Selane saw me enchant the stone, but still, if you have doubts, attack me now. This will keep me safe, as it will your son.

A chair squealed as someone stood up, and I knew my father was reaching for the stone-tipped club he kept in the room. I almost gasped, but managed to stay silent. I could scarcely believe that my father was about to take the old man up on his offer, but, I was pleased to realize that my father would go to such great lengths to make sure I was safe.

Why don’t you start with my leg? Go ahead and swing as hard as you like.

I could almost feel the tension as my father hesitated. Was he really about to attack this wiry old man over this? There was a hiss as the club swung through the air. But there was no sound of impact. There were several seconds of silence, and I suddenly grew very nervous.

Then I heard Lithra speak again. Go ahead, you can swing harder than that. Anywhere you like. I’ll be fine.

I almost gasped. My father had a very powerful swing. I had seen him split logs with a single blow. But apparently Lithra’s safeguard had kept him from harm. I heard several swishes as my father swung again and again. One final snap, then I heard my father say bewilderedly, That was my best club.

My mother spoke again. I am satisfied that these will keep my son will be safe from harm. But why wasn't your last companion wearing one of these? Surely this could have saved him.

Lithra sighed. Although Phenrar was a strong and skilled warrior, he was a horrible magician, and the guard would have only slowed him in battle. Your son, however, is already stronger than he is... or was, and should be safe so long as he wears it.

Mm-hm, said my mother, apparently satisfied. But I would like some way to at least know where he is. I'm sure as an enchanter you can arrange something.

You have my assurance, Mrs Sephuras. Now, shall we inform Selane?

I quickly moved away from the door and pretended I was busy. My father came out. Son, you’d best come in here. We’ve got business to discuss.

•••

My father spent the rest of the day talking to me about the journey. He told me about precautions I should take, the types of people and places to avoid, and enough advice to last me for years. I could hear Lithra’s low murmur behind me as he worked spells over a pair of rings, under my mother's watchful and curious eye. That night I could hardly sleep as thoughts raced through my head It was strange to realize this would likely be the last night I would spend in the old inn. My father woke me early the next morning.

You’ve got to get an early start. he said briefly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I gathered my pack, which I had prepared the night before. Heading outdoors, it struck me again that this might be the last time I would ever see the place that had been my home for so long, and although I knew it was just a silly childhood habit, I couldn’t help knocking three times on the door frame for luck.

My mother and father were waiting with the enchanter by the horses. I shivered slightly in the morning cold, wishing I hadn’t when I saw the concern flit across my mothers face. When I reached them, my father knelt down to fasten a heavy metal bracer to each of my arms. It was made of copper, and embossed with fascinating patterns that twisted around each other at odd angles. I realized this must be Lithra’s safeguard. It would be a while before I got used to the weight on my arms.

This is your protection. my father said. Never take it off, not even when you sleep. He then slipped a plain iron ring onto my finger. It was tarnished and worn, not likely to be stolen. As long as your you and your mother wear these rings, she will be able to know where you are, and you her. It would do your mother and I well if you left it on.

I nodded, and he stood up, clasped me on the shoulder, and led me to the horses. I struggled to climb on mine, a large gray, with black mane and white leg markings. It was a great deal larger than my father's mule, the only other animal I had ever ridden. I sat uncomfortably in the saddle. I didn’t like the idea that someone had died in it less than three days ago.

He doesn’t know very much about riding, I’m afraid. my mother remarked, noticing how I sat awkwardly in the saddle.

I have little doubt that he will soon master the art, Lithra replied. He has a sharp mind, that one.

Stay safe, Selya, she whispered. And then with one final kiss from my mother, we set off.

•••

The long shadows that stretched before us gradually grew shorter as the day went on. There was no conversation, which didn’t bother me. I was still trying to sort out my impressions of the quest. Clouds began to roll in from the horizon late that afternoon.

Lithra finally broke the silence. I don’t like the looks of those clouds, he said. We’d best make camp before a storm breaks. I agreed, looking forward to a rest. I was growing very sore from the unaccustomed motions of being in the saddle. Lithra selected a small copse of trees for our campground.

I dismounted, and looked around. This area was relatively featureless. Low, rolling hills stretched off into the distance, save for small patches of trees similar to where we stood. The road continued on to the east and west, in