Legends of Adora: This Halfryta's, Garden

By Lupo DiNotte

For six long generations war raged in the lands of Adora Halfryta. During the reign of 2nd Cleric the colonies across the continents of Halfryta fought. In order to establish their own dominion & power, and place in history – for six generations honourable battle raged across these holy lands. In the face of the Holy Temple and its' counter part Halfryta's Scions, the Lords of emerged a true ruling faction when the fighting was brought to an end by 6th generation Scion, bearer of fire: Azure King Aohd. Few non-human settlements remain in open sight near civilization due indiscriminate torment. Peace came at a cost. Eight years since the end of the lords' war: the divide between the Adora Temple, The Lords, and The Scions is clearer than ever. Now, Aohd's son: Marise, soon to be crowned, 7th generation scion of fire and his friends must find for themselves destiny is as choice – as it is truth. The stench of chaos lingers still, and it is why the scions exist. Has a new age of order truly begun? Or will chaos tip the scales yet? Only The Goddess Halfryta knows.
Follow the journey of 7th generation scions Marise, Eurus, Maralah, and Fenris in their youth as they learn and grow together at Adora Templum – following their coronation as bearers of the scions’ duty.
Journey with young Fenris as he settles the deep inner conflict between his conscience and his obligation to his family and nation. Torn by the actions of his father, a powerful and violent king seceding from the holy teachings – siding with the lords seeking to militarize the continent on the heels of the Lord’s War. Fenris, a young boy far too mature for his age tasked too early with drawing the line between personal duty, and destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lupo DiNotte
• Release date: Dec 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9780995309722

Book preview

Historia I

The Goddess descended. How frightful a phrase to have to turn twice: First, she split the world in two and created continents. Then, came civilization. - Hecatoncheires

The oldest recorded texts date back as far 1P2R—as estimated by the best architectural scientists of modern day. This refers to an age Post 1st, Pre 2nd, Ragnarök. Ragnarök refers to the instances where Halfryta herself descended upon these lands. – Adora Almanac I

"Recollections from this timeframe and prior are broken and scattered, but they tell a time of titans and conquerors, of benevolent emperors and tyrants. They tell of a time where true miracles and chaos were commonplace. At the end of these stories—of what seems to be final chapters—the Second-Generation Scions were born to the world. This occurs in year 2.PR-30.

Three decades later, at x001. PRx001, the Second-Generation Scions became the free leaders in the continental world of Adora, alongside the now-powerful lords and the rising church and guild factions. Twenty years later, the first of the Third-Generation Scions was born.

Recent geographical records describe the events which created the formation of islands to the south, the moon continents to the west, the floating jungles in the east and the ice in the north. And at the centre, the last true living body of the original holy land, on which Cephas and the church capital, Hal Astu, would not bear full fruit until the year x189.

The Thunder Peaks broke a crescent to the west. The vast snow-lands of Prunia to the north, the Torch Isles to the south, and the Axel Ilse: Terra Fluens. Together, these islands make up the continental world of Adora Halfryta" - World Geography I.

Historia Est Finis

Act I

x288

Parte et Rai

"Adora translates to beloved one, while Halfryta translates to peaceful home. The old ones brought these two words together, and so we call the Goddess who created our world by the same name we believe she gave it. Thus, she is Adora Halfryta or Beloved, Peaceful Home. The old ones believed that, because she created this world through & with her powers, the world is to her and she is to it. Many also call her Yadra, or mother," the teacher finished.

Teacher, I don’t understand. When the world was no good and full of fighting, it was because of power. So why did she give more power to the world? Asked a small boy, who sat at the front of the classroom. His hair was a red, dishevelled mop adorning his head, soft brown skinned.

Well, Lord Marise, if I should hand you a sword stained with blood, and my hand was also stained with the same blood, would you blame the sword for murder? He posed.

Haha! No way! He called aloud. The sword can’t do anything on its own. It’s just metal. The boy gave a light chuckle.

Ah, yes my dear boy. There are all sorts of powers within this world, but it is not in the nature of power to cause chaos. It is only in the nature of those that wield it, he professed. My dear students, be wary. Power, however small, will test your character. The mix of white and ash in his beard and hair ran to his shoulders and past his jaw. A light demeanor to him, Professor Elrik stood in professional, but comfortable, attire. His robes a mix of browns and purples unique and dark, yet colourful.

The classroom was filled with many young children who were no older than 8 or 9. In the world of Adora, the monarchy was strong and thriving. Kings and queens, lords, dukes, and nobility of all ranks populated these great lands. In this classroom were children who would eventually take up the reigns of the world: sons and daughters of powerful and notable families across the reaches of the continents. Each sat on a mat; a small table in front of them with scrolls, quills and study books placed upon each one. They wore garments and garbs of lavish colours and styles: some simple, some complex. No two were alike, yet none were uniquely different.

The Goddess has… weak character then? At least if what you say is true, right? I threw at our teacher. Marise looked back at me, puzzled.

Why do you think so, Lord Fenris? My teacher questioned.

Power tests character, right? What about the character of people who share power? Each time she shared it, there was chaos. She failed to give power to the right people. Not once, but twice. Is that not a weak character? I argued from behind Marise.

Well my young prince… you certainly raise an interesting point. I ask you this: suppose she never gave any power to anything at all. Or even suppose she’d learned from the first ‘mistake’ and didn’t share her power the second time. Where would our world be?

I… can’t say for sure. I admitted.

I see. Was it a character flaw that drove the Goddess? After all, caring is never truly the wrong thing to do. He stepped somberly around the room, pacing as he lectured.

Perhaps she truly could no longer standby watching. History tells of the great wars which brought Halfryta forth from the clouds. Each time, in reaction to the greed by man and beast & daemon alike. Without her gifts, there is no telling where we’d be and because of them here we are. It is not a matter of what happens next. No, what happens next is almost always entirely out of your control. What Halfryta gave to the world was not merely power, but a choice… and the power to make it. At times, the choice was wrong. And at times, right. But the Goddess held a faith that we would ‘right’ ourselves…and in time, we did. Can you tell me what it was she believed in? He stopped and stared at us for a moment, silently. That we wanted a home. She believed that when the time came to build our home, we would put all else aside and work towards it: a place of freedom, tranquility, and strength.

Wrath and sovereignty? I half-scoffed.

I suppose those words might ‘sound’ less emphatic than how they should be translated, He smiled into a soft chuckle. I would prefer consequence, and completion."

"But teacher… you do write the books." A petite, brown-haired girl with glasses said, holding a small handguide notebook, with a gold-coloured watermark reading ‘Elrik’ on the back.

Hrmph. I suppose I do. He replied with a gleeful mug. As he finished speaking, a long bell tolled. Come now children, gather your things. You are dismissed. The young elementary students gathered their books, quills, pens, and utensils, and began to exit the small classroom. Outside, the hallway stretched wide to a balcony overlooking the lower floors. Wooden pathing ran a square in the main hall as 4 bridges connected to the long spiraling staircase downward.

The great hall was painted in a brown-burnt auburn. The wooden railings and stone pillars held up banners and markings – symbols of all sorts, while glass murals and paintings hung across the high-rising walls, giving light and to the room. These depicted the elements, and a variety of the beasts & spirits which worshipped them – and humans. From the doors which sat along the second-floor hallways, more students began to appear. Here, in the Adora capital, the Church of the Goddess housed and taught students of all kinds: from future rulers and diplomats, dukes, and duchess, to knights, warriors, and academics. This hallowed, majestic hall has been a symbol which has kept Adora Halfryta united through the teachings of, and belief in the Goddess for as long as it has stood.

The teachers and instructors in it were decorated individuals: both students and masters of the assorted arts. They were men and women of several species who had demonstrated skills and talents some could only dream of. It’s these individuals who were tasked with rearing the bearers of the future.

The Church Castle sat at the end of the capital looking over the rest of Adora Astu, filled with tall towers and buildings. A bell resounded —the Light Bell. A clock tower which sat in the centre of the capital held, at its peak, a large, black-coloured bell which gave off a strange white light. It struck twice every few hours. Inside, classrooms on the first and second floors opened, and students poured out. Hundreds more came shuffling down the spiral stairs from the third and fourth floors.

I walked down the steps while Marise followed close behind, smiling. Edgar, my guardian & and personal tutor, oversaw watching over me during my stay at the church for schooling, today I could he him waiting for me near the entrance earlier than normal. Edgar was a beast-man: an aide mother selected for me when I turned seven, April of last year. It’s been only a year since. He’s been warm and embracing for now… After all he is still a beast. As I approached him, he bent over slightly and let a soft smile show across his fangs, his lion mane perched proudly behind his head.

Young master, and lord Marise. He greeted in a deep tone.

Hello Edgar. Marise returned his greeting happily.

You’re early. I said.

I have been instructed to escort the two of you to an assembly, once your classes have been completed. Edgar said.

Assembly? Someone wants to meet us? Marise looked at me with confusion.

If you two would follow me. Edgar walked ahead from behind us into the church. We traipsed through the main hall amongst the shuffling students, eventually passing them all and reaching a silent hall. It led inwards to the chapel. Central to the very back was a statue of the Goddess. She wore a long dress and held a 2-horned staff in her right hand. In her left a long broadsword, struck into the earth. She had a full-moon head of woolen hair and a gracefully empathetic demeanor. Finally, she was encompassed by a ring, which hung in the air behind her. There was a depiction of each of the four elements at each corner of the stage, and a fifth, standing beneath the Goddess. This one was a statue of a spiky-haired boy. Behind the statue was an open hall which, through a corridor, led into a wide council theatre.

A girl approached from the distance. She was shrouded in green garbs and a cloak coloured in similar, but off shades. There were quilted brown weavings stitched into her cloak in runic symbols. From a glance, she was marked in Uruz, strength, and Ansuz, vitality.

She was frail and looked scared.

Next to her, a young boy stood expressionless—his garbs appeared meager and bland; visibly washed.

As we walked into the hall, the room spread back deceivingly far. A set of stairs at two corners of the room led up to a balcony which looked down onto the centre of the main floor, and pairs of seats were separated evenly across the second floor. We walked into the centre of the room and looked up to meet our audience.

DAD! Marise screamed.

Immediately a tall figure jumped from his seat in the balcony down to the floor and embraced Marise. This man was the king of the City of Agni. The Scion of Fire, King Aodh.

How was school son? Did you listen to your teacher? The doting dad asked with a great smile on his face. Marise nodded with joy.

Aohd turned to look at my guardian. Edgar, you look well.

Lord Aodh, it is an honor, as always. Edgar responded, bowing.

Ha-ha! Raise your head Edgar! He said, patting Edgar’s shoulder. Young prince Fenris. How are you, my boy? He bent over and greeted me pleasingly.

Fine, Your Highness. I replied, then looked around.

Seated next to where King Aodh had jumped was his wife, Marise’ mother, Queen Adeen. She sat with a loving smile, watching her husband and son giggle and embrace. She gave a small wave in their direction when Marise looked up at her.

Across from them, sitting as regally as ever, my father. Ruler of Nariko Cestmir, King Alok. His arms were crossed, his eyes piercing down at me. Behind him stood his aid, the man known as the reigning champion of gladiators, Knight King Aitan. Father nodded in my direction, and I nodded in return.

I walked over to where the frail girl and zombie boy were standing. Sitting in the other seats were the king and queen of the Jagged Canyons, King Trevet, the Scion of Earth, and his wife Valterra, rulers of Cephas.

King Aodh patted Marise on the back and directed him toward where I was walking. He then bent down and leapt back up to his seat next to his queen. He took her hand with a kiss, calmly watching over us. Edgar escaped behind me near the exit, taking a flight of stairs up to where father and Aitan were viewing. He stood against the wall, watching silently.

A man then appeared from across the room, entering from the opposite entrance. He