Conjuration Rising

By Kristyn Van Cleave

In this thrilling sequel to Dreambreath, Eylene must finally learn everything she can about Conjuration if she wants to survive. She will have to directly face the powers of Mortimeir's persuasion and Gwyn's growing strength to thwart the mouse's plan once and for all. But the more she learns, the more she turns away from even her own father and his master plan to control the behavior of the entire universe. Amidst Mortimeir's plan to have Sorcerers control everything, her father's plans to stop Mortimeir and finally unite the classes, and radical ideas that promote the mass murder of all Sorcerers and the destruction of any sort of unity, Eylene must find a way to stop this war and bring peace to the universe before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365415500

Book preview

Conjuration Rising

Conjuration Rising

Book Two of the Dreambreath saga

Kristyn Van Cleave

Copyright © 2016 by Kristyn Van Cleave

All rights reserved.

Cover and book designs by Kristyn Van Cleave.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

ISBN 978-1-365-41550-0

For permission requests, email:

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Include your name and mailing address.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America.

For Crista.

~KSVC

Foreword

When I turned eleven years old, there was an incident.  An amazing, wonderful, scary, horrifying, life-changing incident that put me on the right path to discovering who I really am.  Yes, I was ripped from my home, my planet, and my family, but I soon came to understand that Earth wasn't my real home at all.  Because I am much more than just a small girl living in the village of Crestwood on Earth.  I am a Dreambreath.  Eylene Dreambreath, to be exact.  Daughter of Hoartunim Dreambreath.  The last known Conjurer in existence.

Naturally, the same person who killed my parents, my family, and my entire race was out to kill me as well, to finish making the Conjuration race extinct.  His name was Mortimeir, and he was the single most feared individual throughout the far reaches of the universe.  But my father made a plan to ensure my survival.  He equipped me with the Eye of Myth to save me from any death, and created a boy named Thyme to be my faithful protector through thick and thin.

I was put into protection by the Headmaster of Alyxia and trained by Professor Derhon Nightingblade, the very Diviner who assassinated my parents and led the army who killed off my race.  Was it frightening, to train every day in front of the man who should have killed me years ago?  Of course.  But it was even more frightening to be captured by Mortimeir himself, and horrifying to learn that he had been standing in front of me to watch me all that time, disguised as Alyxia's headmaster.  He had been controlling both Professor Nightingblade and a student of Alyxia, Gwyn Smoulderheart.  He wished to control me, too, and use me to help him become the ruler of the entire universe.

Mortimeir enlightened me on many things while he had me.  He told me of his beginnings, his training, and his plans.  I learned that all Sorcerers are simply creations, spells of my father's that will eventually time out and turn to dust.  Most importantly, he told me of my beginnings.  I learned that my mother was not a Conjurer, but a Diviner, and she was Professor Nightingblade's sister.  I learned that from my birth, I had the power of not only Conjuration, but also Divination.  My powers are wonderful, dangerous, and feared.  No one has ever seen a witch or wizard of two different classes. 

After killing Mortimeir and losing my Eye of Myth in battle, I was finally found by Thyme.  But he had to kill Professor Nightingblade to save me.  I hated Thyme for doing it.  But then I realized he had no choice, for he was created for the sole purpose of protecting me.  He can't physically allow me, and at the same time the Conjuration race, to perish. 

Gwyn took Mortimer's body and disappeared.  To this day, no one has found either of them, but I have a gut feeling (or maybe Diviner's intuition) that they are just planning and waiting for the right time to return.

So here I stand, the most sought after girl in the universe, and possibly the one with the most secrets to keep.  My parents weren't of the same class, Thyme isn't a real human being, I can use Conjuration and Divination… Even the fact that Thyme killed Professor Nightingblade is known only to him and I, because when he took me back, he claimed it was Mortimeir who killed him.  The classes of magic are still in conflict, though they may not be physically fighting any more.  I am a mix of two classes that historically hated each other, and to make matters worse, my own uncle assassinated both my mother and father.  Talk about a troubled family history.

Plus, my Eye of Myth is completely destroyed.  Ruined.  Doesn't even make the faintest glow when I grab my amulet.  So if Mortimeir does come back, I might as well jump off a cliff or something.

In other words, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it up, this whole living thing.

CONJURATION RISING

Viveret they say, black to green

And sparkling gold lies in between

To make an eye that all men seek

But only appears with my technique…

Prologue

The guards dragged the beaten body of the Conjurer into the throne room.  The blood from fighting the assassins, and now these guards, turning burgundy as it mixed with the grime and sweat on his body, ran thick down his face, neck, and arms, and off his fingers like it was trying to escape this wretched place, as he himself had just tried to do. 

Mortimeir's laugh rang throughout the spacious hall.  Well, well, well!  What do we have here?

He was caught trying to escape, my lord.  What should we do with him? 

The wretched laugh emerged from the Sorcerer's chest once again, echoing about the room and encircling Hoartunim until he could stand it no longer.  He attempted to shove the guards away, to fight what he had created, but he had not one ounce of energy left in that abused body.  Just let me talk to him.  I need him to stay alive, and right now he looks like death itself.  Let us talk privately.  Thank you, guards.

The two guards, clad in their startling crimson armor, bowed awkwardly and released the Conjurer, who immediately collapsed to the hard marble floor.

Mortimeir stood from his massive throne and began to walk down the grand golden steps to his creator, his crimson eyes sparkling in wicked amusement.  "You really thought you could escape?  Look around you, father! Look at the army that you created!  Ha ha, look at all these wonderful Sorcerers!  Hoartunim groaned as his creation grabbed his chin and pulled his head up to look at his devilish grin, ornamented by those horrifying eyes.  And you thought you could escape.  Pathetic!"  Hoartunim started to sob as his head was thrown back down violently.

Joutin, why are you doing this?  After all I've done for you, all of the love Saryn and I gave you…

For what?  For your daughter to have a throne, and your name to go down in history, and my name to forever be lost!  No one knows Joutin!  He walked back up to his throne, smiling in pleasure the whole way. "Yet everyone knows Mortimeir.  Everyone knows to fear Mortimeir.  This is how it is meant to be, father!  My own throne, my own palace!  My own universe!"

"You can't rule over everyone forever.  If this is the path you're taking with the power I gave you, then fine, but you will be stopped."

How amusing!  Did you know there was a little Sorcerer in here just a few days ago, who said the very same thing!  Little Sara.  She tried to escape, too.  Perhaps you should meet her.  You two sure have a lot in common.  A fierce spirit, but a weak and pathetic body.  I'll be sure to introduce you to her.

I'd rather you just kill me first. 

"Oh, no!  You see, I can't do that.  With Saryn dead, you're the only one who knows where she is."

In sudden fright, the Conjurer finally found the strength to lift his own head up.  She?  No, you can't possibly know…

Of course I know, you idiot!  Eylene's not dead!  You sent her away!  You sent her to another world just as my assassins reached Conjuria!  If you had just waited one more second, I would have her right now!  I would be torturing her right now.  Right in front of your very eyes.

You'll never find her!

"Oh, you just wait and see.  I'll find her.  I'll find Eylene.  And I'll have that little girl all to myself, to stay right beside me as I take over the universe!  You know how powerful she is, with her inherited skill of Conjuration, and a strong ability to Divine as well.  And various Diviners have predicted that I will have her eventually.  One has even had a complete vision of her, chained in a room of mine, with no hope of escape.  She will be mine, and if she really is so powerful that I can't control her, I'll kill her.  Just as easily as I'm going to kill you. Hoartunim was sent into pure agony from Mortimeir's scarlet magic, much like the agony his daughter would be experiencing in seven years.  Guards!  The guards hurried back in.  Throw him back in the cell.  And make sure he really can't get himself out this time.  While you're at it, find little Sara Goldenrod in the infirmary.  I think she deserves a cell, and there should be another cell right next to Hoartunim's for a little girl to keep him company.

CHAPTER ONE

The Last Summer Day

Careful, Eylene!  I gasp just before Thyme reaches out to stop me from nearly falling face first into the valley.

"Maybe I wanted to fall."

He chuckles.  Is that so?

I could have planned to fall ever so carefully so that I could soar down and be caught by a skillfully created crowd of kind trolls.

Ugh. Trolls.

The key word is kind.  And actually, that's not a bad idea.  I immediately launch myself off of the hill and into the valley, the same valley Thyme and I rolled down on that magical day when we silently swore to never let each other out of our sight.  Oh yeah, and the same day I almost killed him. Just before I hit bottom, I create a big, fluffy bluebird who flaps his wings to create a wind that slows me down so I can land on his back softly as he flies upwards.  Woo hoo! I laugh as I reach the top of the hill and see Thyme's startled face.  Scared you, didn't I?

Um…

Come on, try it!

Are you sure it's safe?

Oh, you big scaredy cat!  I pull him over the edge and laugh wildly as he screams the whole way down.  I make a beautiful golden eagle just in time.  He comes up leaning over the neck of the bird and panting.  Fun?

Woah.

I giggle.  "Didn't I say that very same thing when you pulled me down the valley in May?" 

"But we rolled down the valley.  We kept in contact with the ground.  That is jumping off into the valley into what would be certain death if there wasn't a Conjurer around."

"Oh, but don't you dream of flying?  I whistle to make the bluebird and eagle take off into the clear July sky.  Thyme yells out until his frightened protests turn into uncontrollable laughter.  I told you so!"

We're flying, Ey!

It's been like this every day since we went on summer vacation.  Well, I can't say went, because Thyme and I didn't actually go anywhere on June 3, like other students who always leave to go visit their family.  We don't have any family to visit.  Ever since our classes have paused, we've been wasting the days away in the meadows.  And suddenly, it's Sunday, July 24.  The day before training begins once again.  Not that we have to go back to classes tomorrow.  No, fortunately we have until the first Monday of August for that.  We have to train for the test.

I remember when I learned of the test.  It was the last day of school, and I was in my last class of the day, History with Professor Thornwood, a short, plump man with grey hair who always has a few stray whiskers floating across his cheeks.  His history class is full of him talking about his own experiences with great historical events and such.  He makes himself up to be this amazing Thaumaturge who retired from an exciting warrior lifestyle and now thinks it his duty to teach us about the big universe out there.  His class was such an awful class to have last, because it was so monotonous and he talks so slow I have come to think he has mental problems and we all just sat there in this sort of dazed state where our bodies were slumped in the chairs but our minds were somewhere completely different.  Luckily, Thyme was in the class too, and although our desks were nowhere near each other's, we could manage to slip roses and tiny beings to each other during the lecture.

Apparently, everyone knows that during the last few days of school, you do absolutely nothing.  That's how all of my other classes were.  But not this class.  No, Professor Thornwood had insisted on cramming more information into our brains.  He wanted us each to give a presentation of a historical event.  Fortunately, we got to pick our subject.  Naturally, I picked the Great War.  After all, I learned from a great primary source, despite how scary and crazily horrifying that mouse was. 

Anyway, we drew our order out of a hat, and somehow I picked the last number.  So right after I finished my presentation—which was spot-on, by the way—school officially ended until August.  Professor Thornwood called me over, to tell me how much he loved my presentation and all that, but then he asked me if I knew about the test.

The test? I asked.  You mean our final exam?  Yeah, I got a B…

No, I mean the test on July 31.  The test to determine head apprentices and such.

Oh.  That test.  Well, I knew about it.  I just didn't know when it was, Professor.  But I don't participate, right?  I mean, there's really no one for me to apprentice.

"Everyone takes the test, my dear girl."

Oh.

Well, you will have a week to train for it, and then you must take it.  I wanted to make sure you knew.

Oh, well, thank you, Professor.  Madeline probably would have told me, just last minute.  She's good for that.  As soon as I left the classroom, I asked Thyme all about it.

Upon hearing the dinner bell ring, I land our birds onto the grass in front of the dining hall.  Thyme and I skip into the room, which is almost empty besides the professors, a few students, and Sara.  Cake and Dominique are visiting their parents, Shawn has an aunt in Divinia, and Gwyn is, well, no one knows where Gwyn is.  She disappeared with Mortimeir’s body after I defeated him in May, and hasn’t returned since.  Sara, however, has no family other than her warrior-parents on Skiedaf.  She sits at the head apprentice table, even though she should be making friends with the professors.  She graduated this year.  Her test will determine whether she becomes a professor right away, goes to warrior school, or becomes an intern, like most people end up being their first year out of school.  Thyme and I join her after grabbing our lunch from the counter. 

I sense the anxiety in her mind right away.  Sara, what's wrong?

Training for the test starts tomorrow.

Yes, I know.

And the test is one week from today.

Sara, you're not stressing out about it, are you?

Yes, Eylene, I am.  I don't want to be an intern.  I want to teach.  I don't want to be stuck under the direction of a professor any longer.  A noticeable shiver runs down her spine.  She must be thinking about the fact that all these years, she was really Mortimeir's apprentice.

To be honest, we're all still recovering from what happened in May.  Sara can't stop beating herself up about learning under Joutin all this time.  Shawn stayed depressed all through the rest of the school year after his father died, leaving him parentless.  Not only does Thyme feel guilty about killing him, he feels guilty that he was not able to save me from Mortimeir's grasp, like he was created to do.  I shudder as I look down at the scar running across the eye on my left palm.  I still can't think about the mouse without that kind of reaction.  What's more, after becoming frustrated with all the secrets that were kept from me, I am keeping my own.  I haven't told anyone about the real cause of my powers of Divination.  Shawn has no idea we're cousins.  And worse, no one besides me knows that my father is still alive.

It was such an experience to read that letter.  Once I read the greeting, My dearest daughter, I automatically knew it was from Hoartunim.  And when I saw his name signed at the bottom, I completely freaked out.  I had to put the letter down and come to my senses before I could read the actual message:

My dearest daughter,

I am so enthralled to know you are alive, Eylene.  It brings me great joy to see that my plan really worked.  You were kept out of harm through not only your amulet, but also your great courage.  I could not feel any prouder right now.

I want to give you some advice on your staff.  You have excelled in creating and summoning, but you have yet to learn the most difficult Conjuration technique, calling.  Your staff will enable you to create more powerful beings, and your creations and summoned creatures will last longer with its use, but its main purpose is to help you call beings.  Calling is somewhat like summoning, but much more precise.  It allows you to bring specific creatures from other places, as in a specific person.  But I must warn you, it is dangerous.  If you summon a creature, it is sent right back where it was when your spell times out, and if it happens to be killed, it is not really killed but just sent back to where it came from.  If you call a creature, it stays where it is called.  Spells of calling have no time limit.  And if the creature is killed, it really dies.

Eylene, I need you to learn all you can about your class of magic, as quickly as possible.  I do not rush you for the sake of rushing.  Here on Skiedaf, the battles have not ceased.  There is a great war coming, greater than the war we once called the Great War.  The war has been named before it has even begun.  People are calling it the Universe War.  This war cannot be won if you are not a full Conjurer when it comes.  You must learn all there is to know, and quickly.  Do whatever you must to teach yourself everything about Conjuration.  It will be hard, but I believe you can do it.  The war cannot be won without you.

Your loving father,

Hoartunim Dreambreath

P. S. While you're at it, it wouldn't hurt to find a good Divination professor.  Who knows, you may become very skilled in that class as well, and we will need all the magic we can get to win this war.

First of all, how did my father know I had just defeated Mortimeir, or that I had learned how to create and summon, or even more frightening, how did he get the letter in my