The Apotheon Crucible: The Apotheon Trials, #0

By Arya White

A blink of the past is all he needs to set them free.

A supernatural YA Dystopian with a spin

 

Joah Timewalker is trapped.

 

As a member of the Tempus faction, Joah is tasked with travelling to the future to ensure no disaster befalls the Five Rings. And, in a severe society where even death is scheduled, timewalking is a very mundane job indeed.

 

Forbidden from travelling to the past, Joah can't help but wonder what life was like before Apophis' devastation struck the earth.

 

An illegal slip into the past exposes a staggering scene that shakes him to his core. With everything in him, Joah must resolve how far he will go to make the truth known. 

 

Even if it costs him everything. 

 

 

"Absolutely loved this book! It took just under 3 hours and I am hooked and want to read the rest of the series.
Arya White writes in such an easy to read style that draws you into the story. I couldn't drag myself away without finding out what happens.
The characters are believable and the description of the places are so vivid that I could see them clearly in my mind.
If you like a story of courage and determination then this is for you."- Goodreads Reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swift Readers Publishing
• Release date: May 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201448097

Book preview

The Apotheon

Crucible

Arya White

Table of Contents

The Apotheon

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

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Copyright

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

Copyright © 2020 Swift Readers – All rights Reserved

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Copyright © 2020 by Swift Readers.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not bereproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expresswritten permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All permissions can be requested at [e-mail]

Chapter One

I open my eyes when I feel the rain of tomorrow morning on my face.

It’s a distant feeling, not quite real, as if I’m feeling it through some gossamer veil. Even as I feel tomorrow’s cool droplets on my skin, their temperature muffled by time, I’m also aware of the sunlight bathing me where I sit cross-legged in my pod today.

When I open my eyes, the colors are a little distorted too, like I’m watching one of those old holograms from the twenty-first century. The green of the grass is slightly dulled, the gray of the rainclouds almost faded. I know I’m still lucky to see tomorrow in color, though. Most Timewalkers see only flashes; others can visit tomorrow, but in grayscale.

For me, though, the future holds color. My body is still sitting quietly in my pod, but here in the future, I get to my feet. Distantly, I feel the crinkle of the grass under my bare soles.

It’s a little silly to come here, I guess, but I stand still, feeling the rain on my close-cropped hair without getting wet. It’s not often that I get to step outside the Third Ring, and I know that Boziah will be annoyed if he finds out that I’m wasting time watching the rain fall. I can’t even tell myself why I’m doing it. I just like the sound it makes, and the color of the grass, faded though it is when I’m walking in time.

I know if I said this to Boziah, he’d tell me that rain is for growing food and the color of grass is for photosynthesis. But I stare at it for a long, long time. It does something inside of me. I don’t know what it is, but it’s addictive.

Dawn is just breaking. The Weathermakers will get an easy start tomorrow, it seems. They must have a quota of scheduled rain to fill. I walk through the long grass, leaving no footprints, as a herd of cattle grazes around me. Their coats are wet, but they’re not shivering. Cold rain is not conducive to survival. I resist the urge to reach out and touch them, making my way instead towards the Fourth Ring. The vast farmlands of the Fifth Ring stretch out all around me: great squares of crops, smaller fields of livestock, rows of identical square buildings where the Auctis live to tend the living things. I sometimes wish I could be an Aucti myself. Perhaps a Beastsoother, or a Corngrower. It seems peaceful.

But I’m a Timewalker, so I watch tomorrow’s sunrise as I make my way towards the gates that lead into the Fourth Ring. The gates are a row of glowing blue lines – deadly lasers, but I’m not really here, so I slip between them unharmed with only the vague buzz of their energy on my skin. The rain is very light here; a thin mist, just enough to settle the dust and make a gentle sound on the rooftops. I follow the arching walkways across the canals that ripple between the Fourth Ring buildings, all filled with perfectly pure water. Umis are crouching by the canals, their fingers trailing in the water, brows furrowed with concentration. I pause for a few seconds to watch as one of them, an adult female, raises her hand. A ball of water dances over her palm, glittering diamond-bright. Again, I feel that thing in my chest that’s not supposed to be there, and I can’t turn away.

She closes her eyes, completely focused on the speed of those water molecules vibrating. Slowly, the light begins to change where it fractures through the gleaming water. It slows, becomes duller, and in a few moments, I’m looking at a ball of ice. Blinking out of her deep focus, the Umi gives a nod of satisfaction. She places the ice in a metal container by her side, then runs her fingers into the water again to repeat the process.

I could watch this all day, but there’s no reason I should. All is well in the Fourth Ring; that’s all I’m supposed to be checking on, making sure that there are no catastrophes happening tomorrow, nothing that needs to be prevented. Catastrophes are rare. And my job is… tedious.

Boziah doesn’t need to know that I think this, either.

A robotic bullet train, flashing with speed as it races down the canal at exactly a safe distance from the Umi on either side, catches my attention as it goes past. It’s laden with ice; heading for the higher Rings, I’m guessing. I concentrate for a second, bringing myself back in time just a few seconds. Turning, I see the Umi female just beginning to form her ball of ice. The bullet train is right where I want it, and I jump off the edge of the canal and onto the top of the boat. It’s a little slippery, but I can’t get hurt since I’m not really here, and relaxation makes it easy to grip the wireless antenna on the top and hang on it as skims up the canal.

I scan the Fourth Ring as it heads uphill, but everything is running smoothly. As always. Leaning back against the shiny surface of the boat, I look up at the other Rings instead. They rise in concentric circles, wall upon wall, all prickling with Weathertowers, reaching up to the First Ring at the very top. It glitters in the balmy sunlight, presiding over everything down below.

We’ve reached the Third Ring now, and the bullet train is hurtling towards one of the tunnels that runs under the streets of the Third Ring. I step off it just in time and find myself on the streets of my pod. A bullet train hurtles past, a thin whine of speed hissing from its smooth surface. I sidestep it and start along one of the streets, exactly wide enough for two people to pass easily. Around me, buildings rise in perfect, geometric lines. If it wasn’t for the holographic numbers turning gently at the doorways, I wouldn’t be able to tell which one contains my pod.

I must be close, though, because I’m walking towards the train station. Not present me – that’s still standing by Building 31, staring at future me, who’s just turned down the street. I still remember the first time I ran into my future self on a Timewalk. It felt strange, then, like I wasn’t quite real.

Now, as usual, I only feel a little disappointed. I’m not sure why. Like every other adult male in the Rings, I’m one hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall. I weigh sixty-five kilograms. My black hair is cut short, for hygiene. I’m well-engineered, just like everyone else.

Perhaps that’s what disappoints me, I think, watching my future self walk past. I do look just like everyone else, except for a few small differences in my facial features – black hair, blue eyes. Still, there are plenty of other people in the Rings with those features.

Boziah would say I’m being a fool. He’d say that we’ve all been engineered this way for a reason, with the most efficient body mass, the healthiest body type. In fact, if I told him about this, he’d be enraged. He’d want to know how I know that there is any other way.

I can’t tell him that. And I don’t want to watch my future self heading