Artésque: The Fragment of Stoná Book 1

By T. Cannon

The land of Artsquea land of abundance, untapped wealth, and endless possibilities. But this mysterious land of plenty is also home to three newly arrived tribes seeking refuge from their old land, known as Ovlll. It has been five years since their first arrival, and as the sixth year nears, three new additions are made to the land of Artsque. Yet for these unlucky brothers, myths and fantasies have become real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499051384

T. Cannon

I was seventeen when I first began work on this story and its future sequels. I did not always enjoy writing, in fact I was diagnosed with very severe dyslexia. Although, I always enjoyed telling stories. Through this, I found my passion for writing, and at the age of seventeen, I began work on Artsque and its future sequels.

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Copyright © 2014 by T. Cannon.

Library of Congress Control Number:           2014912714

ISBN:                  Hardcover                  978-1-4990-5136-0

                            Softcover                    978-1-4990-5137-7

                            eBook                         978-1-4990-5138-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/29/2018

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CONTENTS

The Introduction: Artésque Nervál

Artésque

Prologue

Chapter 1:     The Hour Of Change

Chapter 2:     Never think simple

Chapter 3:     Taking the step

Chapter 4:     Armor

Chapter 5:     Spun

Chapter 6:     The split

Chapter 7:     Pressing Matters

Chapter 8:     Sight for sad eyes

Chapter 9:     Waking up the rest

Chapter 10:   War’s looming clouds

Chapter 11:   An order of the law

Chapter 12:   Under the moon

Chapter 13:   Twelve

Chapter 14:   The pretty little liar

Chapter 15:   For-ever-free

Chapter 16:   A heavenly world.

Chapter 17:   A web of burning lies

Chapter 18:   A swirl of cleverness

Chapter 19:   Sleeping Is A Dream

Chapter 20:   Clouding minds

Chapter 21:   Planning for chaos

Chapter 22:   Eclipse

Chapter 23:   One step closer

Chapter 24:   False Peace

Chapter 25:   The last day of….

Chapter 26:   …An empire

Chapter 27:   The Element of Taking

Chapter 28:   The golden boy

Chapter 29:   A New Queen

Chapter 30:   Moments to pass

Chapter 31:   Sleeping well

Epilogue

THE INTRODUCTION

Artésque Nervál

The following text, like the cover, entails a form of language known as Nervál. All words in the form of Nervál shall be italicized, as well as phonetically. Taking a look at Nervál (N-er-v-all), the use of Spanish accent marks (or other marks) in the language is to help the readers give emphasis to a certain letter’s sound.

The definition of Nervál means: the common language spoken by a certain group of people; before the use of New - Tongue. There are three types of Nervál that will appear in the following text; although different in meaning, they remain phonetically spelt. Not all words are followed by their definitions; nor are all words simply one word. For example, the Únoff (Un-off) word Frendéloft (friend-day-loft) describes a feeling followed by an action; which is common in Únoff Nervál.

Lastly, the languages of Artésque are immense, book one, however does not presence more than a few simple phrases and words. The story of Artésque is part of a series of books, broken down to make publishing simpler. As a result, the languages are easier to understand. This book is an overlay for the rest of the series, and therefore follows the Únoff the closest. Although, no substantial Nervál sentences are used throughout this book.

Here are a few, more important words to understand:

Artésque - (Art-s-k) OR (Art-s-q)

Únoff - (Un-off)

Dẃoff - (Do-wa-off)

Flóff - (Flo-Off)

Drágeff - (Drag-F)

For more information on the book’s symbols, meanings, languages, or world. Please visit the author run website:

Search up The Series Artesque hosted on wiki fandom or http://artesque.webs.com/

ARTÉSQUE

"In the beginning, The Three worked together, at least as well as they could. The Flóff, presided over both the weather and the changing of the tides. The Dẃoff, produced food and provided the physical fortitude when others could not or would not. Lastly, there is us, the Únoff, those endowed with the knowledge truly needed to manage the magic of this world, and the responsibilities it brought. Such as bringing about both the day and night you see around you."

PROLOGUE

The air is heavy, saturated with the warm mists that spit forth from every tree that dare stand in the path of the gilded rays of the midday’s sun. Each tall, needle-leaved timber of the ÉverMoar forest stands in testament to the new land of Artésque, so untamed, so untainted, so very untouched. The sounds and chatter of the forest amplified by these immense giants of pine. Especially now as both tree and sapling alike cry out with the sounds of bark or limbs falling to the ground. Such chaos brought on from the booming bolts of magic that continue to slam into them. Yet, despite these thunderous claps, the noises of forest’s suffering are silenced for the intended targets of this assault. Instead, for two men that continue to rush through the thicket of this feral landscape only the steady beat of their hearts and chatter of their breaths fill their ears. Even more now as this mad dash to safety drags on; their minds are cumbersome with only the pulses that carry their legs forward. Their motions much like their gasps are rampant and sporadic as the two men call to each after every thundering, bark-breaking bolt of light slams around them.

…Damien! Wh-What the Hell was that!? Preston, the younger of the two men struggles to keep pace with his friend as the forest’s underbrush continues to grasp at his frenetic footing.

The darker haired man, Damien calls back, a slight hop to his step as swings his head back towards his friend. Just run! His voice is racked with guilt, his eye even more so, something Preston even takes notice to, despite his own hurried charge.

The speed at which Preston attempts to maintain is nothing short of a miracle, as both the pain in his legs and with the constant dribbling of his nose suggest his own limits pushed well past their normal standards. Yet, despite the pain and discomfort, the screaming in his mind telling him to push forward seems to be enough, at least for the moment.

Though, as their escape drags on deeper into the forest the sheer power of Preston’s will gives out. Ending with hard and shaky stop as the man collapses onto the trunk of a nearby tree. His chest heaves and his voice barely squeaks out as he shakes his head, his eyes pinned to the ground. I-I can’t I ca…-

His words come to an end as he falls to the ground, his body running purely on instinct alone as his hands dart to his head to shield himself from the splintering wood above him. The bolt of magic scars another innocent victim as it smolders in the impact crater merely a foot above Preston’s head.

Preston’s ears are left ringing as the heat from his body rushes through his face in fear, neither one of the two men know how or why they have been thrust into this situation.

The man’s hands quiver atop his head, his fingers dug deep into the dirty-blond hair atop his head. Though, his rest comes to a swift end as his friend yanks him to his feet.

Damien’s eyes are still teary, half from what happened before and half from his own emotions at the world around him. Despite his own internal conflicts however, his words hold true, he shakes the man in his hold. We need to go!

In an absent-minded reaction, Preston simply nods to the powerful voice screaming at him.

The nod, absent-minded or not, springs Damien into action as he pulls on Preston’s shirt, forcing a jump-start to his previous run.

Preston stumbles to the souls of his shoes as he finally frees himself from his friend’s hold. His speed is of course gone, leaving him with nothing more than a humbling run, though it carries him forward as Damien continues to usher him on.

The sounds of those chasing after them can still be heard in the distance, though aside from the last bolt of light that just barely missed Preston, the sight of their magic has seemed to stop.

Taking notice to his, Damien locks his fist around Preston’s shirt once more, dragging him into a thicker area of the forest. Their previous mad dash to their nameless salvation seems to have bought some time, time the men use to continue their maneuvering through the thicker brush. Though, as the ground begins to slope downwards Damien once more takes charge, bringing Preston to his knees and then to the ground as they lay. A finger comes to Damien’s mouth, despite his sudden taking of charge, however the face of a confident leader is loss to Preston as he just nods back.

The seconds pass like hours as the two men continue to hunker down to the sloped portion of the ground. The voices and sounds of those that gave chase seem to have turned away, perhaps following a different path in the untamed wilderness.

Of course, neither man knows for sure why the voices seem to have turned back. For Damien, the newfound silence is deafening and only forces his mind to over analyzes the world around him. As he does, he takes notice to more manageable way down the slope. Come on.

With a silent grunt Damien pushes himself from the ground.

Yet, the sound of his movements only draws a whispered yell from his friend as Preston calls back in protest. Are you crazy, get down!

Get up, and stay quiet.

The look to Damien’s face brings Preston to his feet, though his own grunts are far less than quiet. Even still, both men push forward down the slope, their footing becomes more important as the ground steadily continues to drop.

Only a minute of their descent passes before the trees before them finally part, revealing something both breathtaking and disturbing. Both men choose to simply flop to their backs as they stare out over their new vantage point.

Before them is the lay of the land, no structure stand to their sight, instead, a plateau of mountains and forest scatter the landscape as far as the eye can see. Both men sit in silence as they try to take in the lush green, and scattered reds and yellows of the trees that paint the world before them.

CHAPTER 1

The Hour Of Change

…Dude, come on, you always add some bullshit to the story.

Preston’s protest draws a quick response from Damien as he shakes his head. Bullshit? They only came over to our side of the bar because Danny has my picture hanging on the wall. Your weak ass pickup lines did nothing.

The comment prompts Preston into one of his normal, and typically overzealous reactions as he throws his hands. His left-hand knocks into Damien, causing the baseball bat that gingerly rested on his shoulder to sway a little. The feeling of it shifting forces Damien to steady it, the awkward pause in his walk he had to take to do so only adds to the annoyance level Preston’s reactions brought forth in Damien’s mind. Even still, Damien pauses his walk and inevitably waits for Preston to roll through the motions. Though annoying at times, the additional little gestures that Preston adds to his stories have always had a way of striking Damien’s funny bone.

Preston’s goofy stance hits its mark as a smirk appears to Damien’s face even before his friend speaks up. Press, the pickup line is bad.

With a raise of his right eyebrow Preston nods. Oh yea? He clears his throat as he digs a hand into the pocket on his shorts, his eye contact never breaks as he rolls through the motions of his joke. Hey baby… you ever been pleased by three inches? He whips out his debit card. …because tonight you will.

Damien rolls his eyes. Jesus…

A fit of laughter overtakes Preston as he pulls his wallet out and begins to slip his card back in. That’s funny, don’t even play.

No, no, what’s funny is when they swipe it and the only thing that shows up is that your account is overdrawn.

Preston continues to fidget with his wallet as he shrugs. Naw, crippling debt is just a way of saying I’m a dedicated college student.

And borderline sexual harassment jokes are just a new way of saying you’re a nice guy, right?

With the card finally back in his wallet Preston chuckles once more. No, no, no, I will never be with someone that lacks a sense of humor.

Damien nods as he snaps back a quick comment. She’s gotta have a good sense of humor to put up with your funny ass face.

"Pfff, real original. As Preston takes a step forward the two men resume their walk, though with Preston’s mouth still running off with each step forward. All I’m saying is if I didn’t try my line you never would have met Sara."

Sara? Damien shoots back a sharp glance. Dude, that wasn’t even the same bar.

What then who the fuc-… Preston nods. "Oh yea, that was that one chick, the Puerto Rican chick… Jazzy errr Jizzy or whatever."

Jazmyne.

Yea, yea, yea… what was her friend’s name? Preston snaps his finger. Uh… Va-Valeria, right?

Yea. Damien shakes his head. But seriously, you thought that was Sara? That was the bar near campus.

Preston waves off the comment. It don’t matter, I’m still the only reason she came over. I’m the best wingman, chicks love the slightly overweight, psychologically damaged type.

Damien’s eyes widen as he just shakes his head. We should have taken the bus… you’re killing me today.

Just as before Preston pats the back of his hand to Damien’s arm just as he did before. Oh-ho-oh! Look at that, Preston was right again.

No, you’re not. It makes no sense to take a bus when it’s just up the road… besides it’s good for you.

"Pff, good for me. I play bench, I never have to worry about running."

Despite Preston’s continued chatter their casual walk down the freshly rained on side street drags on. In truth, the nearest bus stop is still near a block away from the abandoned lot they have come to call a normal afternoon hangout, though with Preston’s continued banter it may have been a better idea.

The walk, being that Preston dominates the pace carries on for another five or so minutes. Yet, as the empty lot comes into view just down the street Damien begins to take over the speed of their stroll.

Nearing the rusty old fence that surrounding lot, he tosses the wooden baseball bat over and prepares to hop it. With a cocky smile, Damien nods back to Preston. Hey, don’t drop the balls again, if they get into the storm drain like last time your fat-ass is getting them, ya hear?

Preston gives a sarcastic roll of the eyes as he throws the three dirty, clay stained balls over the fence. No shit, your steroid ass almost got your finger stuck last time.

"Mhmm." With a low hmmf Damien thrust himself over the rusted barrier, quickly planting his new shoes into the slick mud of the field.

You know there’s a gate, right? Preston shakes his head as he walks the extra three steps to the loose gate.

Damien nods as he pulls his gloves from the back pocket of his cargo shorts. Did you know that gate could give you tetanus?

What? Dude, you used the gate yesterday. And seriously? That freakin’ fence looks worse than this. Preston follows his friends lead and pulls his gloves from his pocket as he starts to near him a little more.

Damien just squints his eyes to him as he speaks up. Hell no, the gate has nails and shit sticking out.

Whatever. Preston straightens up as he pushes the gate, though he balls his hand as he opens it.

Sighting the action brings a smirk to Damien as he speaks up. I passed health class last year, don’t mess with me on this.

"Pfff, health class. Moving away from the gate with a slight chuckle he continues. That shit was online… besides, it was a nursing thing wasn’t? Why would they be talking about tetanus?"

Well, if you had stayed in the class you would have known. He pokes a strong finger to the man’s chest as he continues.

Batting the man’s hand away Preston speaks up. Naw, nursing? I… I just don’t think I like people that much.

That or you like fondling animals better. A quick laugh comes from Damien as he drags the bat up to rest on his arm and continues to fix his glove for the last time.

Dude, I still make more money being a veterinarian, and you know the only place a nursing degree is any good around here is the damn old folk’s home.

Damien just blows to the comment as he shakes his head. More money, I’ll be pro before you ever even finish school.

Pro my ass! A faint chuckle comes to Preston’s voice as he realizes the comment, though he rolls with it as he waves a hand to his friend. Just shut up and swing your arm out of socket Mr. Steroids.

For real though, got to stop calling me that around coach.

Another laugh busts from Preston as his smile widens. Oh yea, he made you do the pee test again, huh?

What? No, we hit the gym together, he knows I’m straight. But scouting season is in man, you don’t know wh-…

Yo, guys!

The call takes their attention as they both swing their heads around to the beckoning younger kid’s voice. As they look to the dark-haired, high school junior, sporting his trademark dark jacket and blue jeans. His run continues down the still slick street, despite the blocky cooler he holds.

Damien gives a low chuckle as he pats at Preston’s chest with his right hand. See, I told you telling Matt to get beer wouldn’t keep him away. Damien calls out to his younger brother as he walks to the fence. There you are! Thought you would have gotten arrested for sure.

The young kid pats to the blue cooler in his hold as he brings it to rest on the rusty fence. Naw, you Mr. Walker never cards me.

Damien gives a little laugh to the comment. Told you.

Preston calls out from behind Damien as his dark brown eyes lock to the icebox. Good thing too, you know what they would do to a seventeen-year-old in jail?

Ignoring the comment, Matt passes the cooler to his older brother. You’re a dumbass they don’t put you in jail for trying to buy the stuff.

With a quick chuckle Preston nods his head. Uh, yea, they do, like all the time.

Shut the Hell up Preston, what do-…

Hey, hey, hey. Damien sets the cooler to the ground with a quick motion as he brings his eyes back to his brother. Calm down, Mr. Walker don’t care about that stuff. Heck, Me and Anthony use to do the same thing and he’s a cop now. So, don’t let it get to you Matt.

Yea. Preston should mind his business.

You should take your meds. Preston’s comment, at least to Matt goes unnoticed, however Damien still shoots a glance back to him. The look quickly draws another response from Preston, mainly aimed at avoiding another triggering event for Matt.

Anyways, go through the gate, your brother here thinks you can’t get tetanus from the fence.

Matt ignores the suggestion as he struggles to hop his petite body over the formidably sized fence. In truth, the fence is just about at Matt’s short height, though he lacks the true upper body strength needed to really bring himself over it. With a little pull from Damien he makes it over and tries to play it off. See, nothing to it.

Playing into his younger brother’s comment, Damien gives a low chuckle as he points down the field. Alright, you showed up Preston. Now, go stand somewhere down there. I need a little practice in, Sara wants to go to some new pizza place tonight, and if I’m late again she’ll have my balls.

Yea, then you’d be like Preston. A snarky smirk comes to Matt’s face as he turns to see Preston’s reaction.

As normal, Preston gives in with a slight shrug. Dude, come on.

Damien chimes as Matt’s smile only grows. Enough! Just go down there, please. Wait… did you even bring the catcher’s mitt?

The question does little to stop Matt’s lazy stroll towards the outer portions of the lot, though he still speaks up eventually with a slight blow in his breath. "Pff, no. It’s fine."

Matt, I put it in your backpack.

The reply only adds to Matt’s laughter as he turns back to his brother. Ha-ha, I skipped school. How I’m supposed to know it’s in there?

Damien shakes his head. That was the deal today. You go to class and take that Spanish test and you get to hang out with us.

Preston chimes in at the comment, just as Matt moves past him. You think the shrimp cares? Should’ve just let him go back to the skate park. Catching Matt turning around, Preston shifts his attention to the younger kids’ gaze. "…you know, that way you could hang out with those friends of yours. The nice ones that beat the shit out of you."

Screw you Preston, you were the one up all last night, I couldn’t sleep and-…

Raising his voice over the Matt’s, Preston barks back. You little shit I went to bed at Nine. Some of us actually have work.

Work? Matt claps his as he laughs. You are interning at a vet how-…

Guys! Damien’s voice breaks the argument as his deep tone settles over both Preston and Matt’s words. It’s done. Preston, act your age not your shoe size and Matt drop it.

Following Damien’s request Preston turns away, though Matt still chimes in as he takes a step back. I think you’ve been spending too much time around those animals, you’re starting to act like a bitch.

Matt.

Again, at Damien’s words Matt backs down, his head lower as Damien’s tone continues to sour towards him.

With Matt walk away Preston takes a few steps forward and gives a slight laugh. The excited smile on his face does little to brighten Damien’s face though as he just awaits Preston’s comment. You see that Damien? A talking shrimp! We’d be famous if we took him in.

Cute, can you go get the balls now?

Preston replies with a squinty face as he rocks his arms out side to side. Oh, cute. He gives a few Caveman like grunts as he walks over to where the baseballs sit in the mud. "Balls, get balls hu-huh, Preston go hu-huh."

Shaking his head, Damien turns back to where Matt has settled in the field. Take that jacket off if you get too hot. No one needs to carry you back if you faint.

Matt just replies with a sarcastic salute. Sighting the two older men shake their heads as they take their normal positions in the field. Damien pats his bat to the ground as he just sighs, attempting to forget the previous few exchanges.

Preston wipes some of the wet dirt from the first ball as he warms his arm up. Down the field Matt squats down, ready to catch or at least attempt to catch any fly balls in his gloveless hands.

With a nod from Damien, Preston takes a deep breath and sends the first ball flying towards his friend. The ball strikes against the half chain link fence behind Damien as it rushes past him. Whoa! Throwing fireballs today huh?

Preston smiles as he picks the next ball up from where they sit on the ground.

I got this one buddy. Damien squints his eyes as he works his hands around the shaft of the wooden bat.

With another nod Preston sends the ball flying towards him. Unlike before, Damien takes a swing, though he misses the ball. The miss itself is a surprise to Preston, as Damien tends to at least clip everything he swings at. Ah! Okay, okay this one for sure.

Now holding a cocky smile Preston bends down for the next ball. Keep missing and you might just make me feel good about myself.

Keep dreaming fat-ass. I can’t live with you now, I’m afraid of what a happy you would look like.

Preston twists the ball in his hand, attempting to hide his hold of it within his own gloveless hand. Gunna swing? Huh? Swing batter-batter. Swing and a miss batter-batter.

Damien licks his lips as he continues to rock in his position. Shut up and throw the ball.

Just as the words leave Damien’s mouth, Preston sends the ball forward, attempting to psych the man out. Yet, as the emotion shattering Clak of the ball against the bat rings to Preston’s ears the joy in Preston’s life leaves with it.

The white and red-clay stained ball is sent flying through the air as Damien drops the bat. Wooooo!

Matt watches the white orb fly through the air for a moment before it sales clear over the fenced behind him. Damien quickly erupts in a yell as he pumps his first. Oh yea!

With a sigh Preston turns back to his friend. Yea, yea, yea, toss me one the balls you missed.

Hey you want me to go get it?

The two men look to the direction the younger voice came from as they go about the motions of tossing the other baseballs back to their starting positions. Damien though does call back. Yea sure, go get it.

The short dark-haired kid nods as he quickly starts up in a run towards the gate Preston opened.

Preston drops the two balls as he speaks up. Alright toss me a beer before ball-return gets back.

What? You already thirsty man? Damien shakes his head as he drops his readied stance and walks over to the cooler. The bat sways almost playfully in his loose grip, though never looks to be out of his control. I know this is a lot of work for you, you know being out in the fresh air and everything.

They both give a stupid laugh to the comment, both fully aware that every day after their classes are over they come out here. Even still, being that Damien has always taken better care of himself the joke still stands.

Opening the cooler, Damien tosses his friend a beer and then proceeds to crack open one a cold one of his own.

Yet as Preston opens and takes a sip of his own he quickly spits it to the ground. What the Hell is this?!

Damien takes another sip, his face unchanged as he gives a refreshed ahhhh reply. Good old non-alcoholic beer. You know, what we have to drink by law under the school’s orders if Matt asks.

Preston continues to stare at the label on the can as he turns it in his hand. What? Bull-shit when did we sign… He looks up as the comment finally clicks. Oh… right cause-cause Matt can buy this without… yea I get it.

Yea… it tastes like piss.

Dude, right?! Preston turns the can over, spilling the rest of the beer to the ground as he continues. Real talk, if we come back here and this grass is dead, we should see a doctor.

The two men share a quick laugh, though as Damien turns his attention to the brightly colored can he takes on a serious look. You know uh… I only know about this crap from Sara.

Preston pokes a foot to the damp, foamy spot he poured the beer out on as he replies. Another reason to dump her. He turns a smile to his friend as he speaks up. Girls are like cars bro, get a new model every so often or you have to start paying for more.

Wow… it amazes me someone as poetic as you can be single.

Shit it amazes me you can say a three-syllable word sometimes.

Damien gives an amused smirk as he nods. Funny… but um, you know I have been thinking a lot.

Preston squints his eyes, still clinging to the joking tone he set up earlier. Don’t hurt yourself.

With a wave of the hand Damien continues. No, no, I mean I have been thinking about Sara a lot. It’s been three years you know? And next year, I mean I should be done with the college’s BS you know. Especially with the scholarship.

Preston nods. Okay?

Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about me and her moving in together. You know, going forward and uh… other things.

The serious tone that Damien has brought to the conversation has quickly clipped Preston’s short lived, comedic flight. Yet, even he straightens up in his posture and nods. Like serious stuff huh? I mean… all the luck to you man.

Damien brushes some of his messy dark hair from his face as he shrugs the comment off. "What no, oh do I get the big room now?"

Naw bro, your carpets are bit too sticky for me.

Another laugh takes over the two men as Damien just turns away, unable to really look at Preston with a straight face after the comment. Yet, this moment of light-hearted talk is just that, a moment. As Damien brings the can up to his lips once more a loud bang, almost like a firework going off is heard from where Matt ran down.

Preston and Damien both turn their heads to the thundering clap with a stomach-turning fear. Both knowing fully well that the lower side of town is a little dodgy at time, and with Matt’s attitude in mind. It only takes second of this thought in mind to spark to life the two men’s sprint.

In a blink