Mystactral: My Supernatural Tale About Creatures That Rule All Land

By Syreeta Moore

Long ago, the dragons were at peace with the rest of the island. When the dragons learned of a power they did not possess, wielded by a great dragon-like beast, they sought out the forest elves. The forest elves were the only creatures to know how to locate this beast and its power. The elves sealed the beast away in a sacred realm so he could never devour the world into darkness. When they didnt share what they knew with the dragons, most were destroyed.

The only known survivor is a young elf named Thersel, who was abandoned at an orphanage and left with little. One thing he inherited was the realm key, which can unseal the beast. When a dragon is seen in the night sky, Thersel embarks on an adventure with his friends to prevent the key from ending up in the dragons talons. Will Thersel survive? The dragons already know where he is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546252023

Syreeta Moore

Syreeta Moore is an 18 year old who has been writing short stories and telling anticipating tales around campfires ever since she was little, and drawing even longer. She is finishing up high school, and works a part time job. She was a swimmer for nearly 5 years, and coaches small kids in the summer. She lives in Northern Indiana with her mother, father, and two sisters. Shes the middle child and has a cat nearly as old as she is. She loves movies and plans to become a full time author and part time artist. She hopes to help strike joy and creativity into the hearts of others through her works.

Book preview

Copyright © 2018 Syreeta Moore. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/24/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5203-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5201-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-5202-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018908579

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To my

eleven year old self, because when she had to leave her childhood, her book characters were the ones who helped her make it all the way through.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Prologue Two

Chapter 1 Into the Forest

Chapter 2 Orphans

Chapter 3 Strange Friends

Chapter 4 Deadly Silhouette

Chapter 5 Realm Key

Chapter 6 Swimming

Chapter 7 Snowy Monarch

Chapter 8 Witch

Chapter 9 Forgotten Memories

Chapter 10 Trust Issues

Chapter 11 Centaur

Chapter 12 Teacher

Chapter 13 Brothers

Chapter 14 A Terrible Pain

Chapter 15 Apology

Chapter 16 Almost Dead

Chapter 17 A No-Good Family

Chapter 18 Fight

Chapter 19 Confessions

Chapter 20 Tiamat’s Attack

Chapter 21 Lost and Found

Chapter 22 Captured

Chapter 23 Deal with the Devil

Chapter 24 A Plan

Chapter 25 Hidden Grove

Chapter 26 Goddess

Chapter 27 Griffins and Sphinx

Chapter 28 We Bargain with Gorgons

Chapter 29 Mother’s Wisdom

Chapter 30 Eyes Open

Chapter 31 Home

Acknowledgments

PROLOGUE

Titania

There is a smell of smoke and dead heat from a fire in the air. The Dragon King, ThunderingRoar, is destroying the last forest elf city in Mystactral. My husband, Cedric, ushered me towards the Midnight Woods. There are many names for it depending on where you live. In the North, it’s called Shadow Forest or the Forbidden Forest. The people there are not of the forest, so they fear what they do not know. They see the woods as a place of danger instead of life. The West and the South areas of this land call it Midnight Woods, it is the home to many fairies and other beasts of myth. To the East, the trees become redwoods, the pine, oak, and maple trees thinning out to nonexistent, so it’s called Redwood forest. If you go far enough, in the heart of Midnight Woods, you will come across Fairyblossom Creek. It is a small fairy village. That’s where we’re headed.

The worst part about fleeing with Cedric wasn’t the dragon destroying our home. The problem is I’m about to have a baby! And very soon.

I tripped over a tree root. Luckily for me, Cedric was at my side and caught me before I fell very far. I made certain I didn’t cry out, otherwise the dragon would know we were alive.

Thank you. I gasped, a bit breathless.

Hmm, cmon, we’re almost there, He whispered and pulled me along. We ran as fast as we could go, never making a sound. We whisked past bushes and trees, across rivers and past creeks and clearings.

Finally, we reached Fairyblossom Creek where fairies of all shapes and sizes, big or small, young or old, live. The roads are made of light gray cobblestone. The houses of the fairies are up in the forked branches like tree houses but made for living in. There were some homes made out of giant flower petals that folded outward and others out of lightweight wood. The air felt lighter, as if existing in the fairy inhabited area made your body float. It didn’t matter if you have wings or not. It made running with a pregnant belly much easier.

The shops and other local places (like the mail sail or food markets) were on the ground. The empty plaza awaiting the dawn’s traveling traders and merchants. The wild, spindly nature that occurred seemed to only grow in certain spaces. It was as if the plants listened to the fairies. No growing past here, they’d whisper into the leaves, and the undergrowth would listen. At night, small spheres of illuminating lights dotted the land. They came in blues, greens, or yellows hung in the leaves of the trees and bushes. On occasion, the flowers and some houses as well.

The village’s street lamps, created with black steel in a cane shape, lit our way. There were jars inside, holding a large candle that burned all night long. The metal bars engulfed the jars like cages. Cedric and I raced down the cobblestone streets, our shadows enlarged by the lights.

We progressed our way towards the medical care center. The big red plus sign was the brightest light. We made ourselves at home when we arrived inside.

Cedric

The baby was coming! We’ve only been here three days and he was already here? It was a relief that Titania and I were already at the medical care center. The few following moments were frantic as nurses rushed her to her room. I said my last farewells and ended up waiting outside. A bit later, I heard my baby’s cry from inside. A fairy nurse came out, looking solemn. My stomach lurched and my face flushed hot.

I’m afraid I have… grave news. She said very with a small voice, not making eye contact, then paused. Her eyes looked glassy and her voice tightened. I’m certain the other nurses bullied her into this task.

Well, are you going to tell me, or are you going to stand there all day? I asked impatient, rubbing my blond hair. I am terrified. My heart beat faster; my palms were sweating. My hair was a rumpled mess and I stared at her, not focused on much. I was listening.

Cedric, while giving birth to your son Thersel, your wife… she, she—

N-no! Don’t you dare say it! I found myself almost screaming at the fairy nurse. I already knew what fate has in store for Titania. I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t. Other patrons stared our way. The nurse looked uncomfortable, I ignored them. She continued.

"She’s dead, Cedric. She lost too much blood, there was nothing we could do… She replied, her tone gentle. If you want to see your son, you can go inside," Then she turned hurriedly and left me alone.

Out of all the mothers in the entire world, why Titania? Why her? I thought. After a while of grieving, I did go and see the boy. He has brown hair and vivid green eyes. His skin was incredibly pale, like his mother, and he has a birthmark on his forearm. He was warm and rather pinkish and imp looking, but I loved him all the same. I smiled down at him, and then picked him up. Then I looked at Titania next to my right side. She’s covered up to the collarbone, in a white blanket, all the blood removed from the scene. She looked like she was only sleeping, except her skin was chalk white and cold.

We have a beautiful baby boy, Titania. I wish you could see him now, with me, and watch him grow up. Like a real family. I murmured in tears. I moved the black hair off her face, clinging to her because of the sweat. She put up a good fight.

The baby fell asleep in my arms. I’m sorry that I have to do this to you little one. I thought.

A few mornings later, Thersel and I headed out of town; the Fairyblossom Orphanage was a few miles away. I buried Titania. I couldn’t bear to be in this wretched village any longer, despite all their care and hospitality.

I headed towards the orphanage, a quiet place in the middle of the forest, off a small trail headed to nowhere. I put Thersel inside a basket along with a note. I added baby formula (a form of some kind of support) and what I thought should be Thersel’s favorite stuffed bear. It’d be a good companion now that I was gone.

I knocked on the door and hid behind a few bushes.

An old fairy woman answered. Seeing that no one was there, she was about to close the door, until she heard Thersel whimper. She beamed at the little boy with great joy. Seeing the note by him, she read it:

My greatest apologies for leaving, you with my son, but I hope he isn’t too much trouble for you. He was born two days ago and his mother died giving birth to him. Again I apologize.

P.s. the boy’s name is Thersel

I had to get rid of him. He reminded me too much of Titania. The memories all came flooding back at once, the love we shared in our long, adventurous lives. But now she was gone, and I couldn’t take care of him all on my own. I hated leaving the last of my kind alone. Yet I knew he’d be better off staying with an orphanage owner than a no good father, running from the Dragon King. My body wracked with guilt but I held my hiding place all the same.

So, I’m guessing your mother was Titania and your father is Cedric, am I right? They were the two Elves that came a while back. No matter, here’s your new home. The last part was very faint, because she walked inside and closed the door. My heart lurched with grief to my loss, but in a way, I was glad I didn’t keep him.

Satisfied, I got back on my horse and rode away. I never looked back, and never returned.

PROLOGUE TWO

Serina

Screaming.

That was the last thing I could remember hearing while running towards the forest. However fast my little feet could carry me, I went. Dark looming trees stretched far above my head. Strange noises echoed in the air, bouncing off trees and the mountains. Mocking Jays mimicked the screams of the villagers behind me. I ran faster. Fireflies dotted the bushes, undeterred by the goblins destroying everything behind me. Sivin, my small Cat Person, clung to me as he rode on my shoulder. He was only three inches tall and was about as heavy as an apple.

My name is Serina. My small village is being destroyed by many goblins.

Those evil creatures moved in next door yesterday, immediately wanting our land. In order to keep it, we had to fight back. Our numbers were sparse in comparison. Strange enough, goblins weren’t common on my continent, Isle de Fleur. They were usually seen off the Northwest coast in the Snowfall kingdom. Seeing so many was very unnatural… If anything, they could’ve set up in the southern parts of Shadow Forest. It had burned down because of a dragon before I’d been born, but they weren’t there.

Goblins weren’t as bad as Phantoms, though. I have never seen a Phantom, but I’ve heard whoever lays eyes on one seem scared to death of their own shadow afterward. I’m guessing that they’re horrific. I hate all creepy and icky monsters and demons—especially goblins. They have destroyed my home, my family and my friends. I will never see them again. Above everything, today marks my sixth year alive.

Worst birthday ever!

I got closer and closer towards Shadow Forest. The village called it the Forbidden Forest. The trees can walk in those parts, making landmarks impossible. Dwarves and gnomes live all around, too. Dwarves aren’t too bad, as long as you don’t get in their way or steal all (or any, mind you) of their precious gold and jewels. Gnomes, on the other hand, are nothing but bad luck. You see one, and the next day you wake up in a gold mine, working in darkness for the rest of your life.

I didn’t care. Becoming a miner for the rest of my life wasn’t as bad as falling prey to goblins. I thought about the similarities between mines and death. They were both dark, cold, and unpleasant. However, you could escape a wet, enriched, smelly mine. You couldn’t escape death. I ignored myself. I decided I was too young to think about dying yet. I wasn’t going to end up here in the Forbidden Forest forever.

I was tiring fast. I saw a big cabin in the distance in a large clearing, but I was too exhausted to call for help. Knowing I was safer here in the undergrowth, I collapsed. The last thing I heard was the bushes rustle. Gruff voices whispering among themselves. Darkness crept over me.

CHAPTER 1

Into the Forest

Serina

"Now tell me, sweetheart, what are some of the most popular magical creatures? How many are there on Isle de Fleur? Liz, my teacher and mother, asked me. I lived in a small looking place called the Dwarf cottage. It was where every dwarf on the continent lived in peace. There was a mountain next door, and we mined deep beneath it. We paid rent" to the neighboring trolls so they wouldn’t destroy our homes and take over the mines. Regardless, us dwarves lived well.

She and I sat side by side at a small square table made of dark brown wood. I sat on the end and she was to my immediate left just around the corner. The room was small, dark, and musty. Our only light was the candle by our station and the small window to my right that seemed to be more in the ceiling than the wall, since we sat in a cellar. The heavy wooden door was opposite from me, half open and led to a long dark corridor. The walls were made of home made brick, old and crumbling. Behind me sat a small and rickety bookshelf holding thick leather textbooks. Its yellowing pages contained a heavy aroma of vanilla flowers and almonds, with a whisper of lavender and mint.

Fifty three, the number applies to the count on Isle de Fleur. The dragon or the pegasus would be the most popular, I replied lazy and half asleep. I slouched over a large book covered in dust, my head resting on my open palm. Liz and I pulled the large manuscript out to look at the old drawings of mythical beasts. The faded words and drawings looked pretty, but the book was outdated and not enchanted. It was surprising to say the least. Even though I’ve been coming to and from the cellar for years I never knew that some of our books have no or scarce traces of magic in them. It also mentioned that chimeras still lingered about, and those haven’t been seen in ages on the island. There were pages and pages dedicated to each different creature and their whereabouts.

Good. Last question, She continued, What is the rarest of the creatures? You should know this Serina, Fantasy Creature History is your best subject. Liz seemed rather chipper.

She took me in almost nine years ago, which I have vague memories of. I’d been found passed out at the edge of the forest. I took note of the wrinkles and sunspots near her grey eyes. She didn’t look near as strong anymore, her warrior days long past as she neared her three hundredth birthday. I studied the grey streaks in her light brown hair. It was tied in a four strand braid and hung down to her feet.

Dwarves have a tradition that we never cut our hair. It’s a sign of war if we do, because it means the offender has angered someone with great patience. We send our braids or cut hair when we declare war. Liz had only cut her hair once in her life. She said it was because someone else was trying for the hand of her husband, Zak. They fought and the other girl almost died. They’re best friends now. Funny how that works.

The rarest creature is the forest elf, because there’s supposed to be only one left in the entire world.

Good. Bonus question. If you get it right you can skip today’s chores. I lifted my eyes to meet hers. She had peaked my interest. List the creatures on a piece of paper and read them aloud. Liz flashed a devilish grin. That’s why she was so peppy, she was giving me a pop quiz. I could tell she was proud of herself, but I’m not about to be outdone by an old lady.

I did as I’m told, rather smugly, and listed them in alphabetical order.

Ok… here they are: Banshee, Brownies, Cat People… I finished moments later, rather proud of myself from the way Liz looked defeated. Now, I know how strange it is to say brownie as a magical creature. I know from experience that brownies taste delicious.

The magical beast is more…aggressive, for lack of better words, when they’re about to become dessert. It takes offense to becoming dinner at all. They are kind, small house fairies who mean well regardless of invading your home. They don’t harm anyone, but it’s actually quite the opposite. They will choose a caring home and aid them in chores around the house at night, so they don’t get caught under foot. In the daytime, when the family members are awake, they can shift into house animals, like chickens or cats. We have a couple here, they like to become goats. It’s more difficult for them to accidentally get kicked or stepped on like that.

Well done, Liz sighed, Now go play with Sivin. Poor guy looks bored out of his head. She said it smiling, but in her eyes I betrayed her. She had been beat in her own game by an almost fifteen year old and now had to do chores without me.

Yes! I cheered, throwing my arms up in the air. I basically won a vacation. It wasn’t every week your mother let you off chores and school. I am upset I wouldn’t see dad today, but if I stayed here I was bound to end up cleaning something. So I made a plan to leave then return by evening. Dad would be asleep by then; he would’ve come back from working in a busy mine all day.

I sprinted out of the cellar. I ran down the hallway and up to the first floor of the cottage and into the kitchen to find Sivin on the counter.

Are you finally done? Sivin asked me with his eyes closed. He was sitting with his limbs outstretched. Crumbs from a recent snack sprawled around him. He was the only one in the cottage who didn’t eat like a whale. I nodded and muttered a confirmation. Good. Let’s do something, I’m so bored! Sivin complained. He shot up in the air and darted up my arm. He may be small but he is rather quick.

Sivin is a miniature Cat Person. He’s still only three inches tall. Cat People are half cat, half human. They have cat ears, eyes, tail, paws, claws, whiskers, and usually multicolored hair. It’s rare to see a Cat Person with a solid hair color. On the contrary, Sivin has solid black hair, so for me, it’s not as uncommon as it is for most. His eyes were a bright yellow and seemed to get ever wider when a loud noises erupted from within the cottage.

Cat people are also known for shifting into some sort of Spirit Cat. Yes, it sounds strange and it’s complicated to understand. They are descendants of lycans (Lycanthrope, or werecats). They can shift from looking like a mixture of human and feline, to human, or feline. Sivin doesn’t have enough magic in his puny body to shift into anything except his standard cat human. He’s too small so his spirit cat remains unknown. A spirit cat depends on what species of cat you are. Some are more obvious to guess, like a cheetah or tiger. You guess by how the fur or hair looks on the Cat person. Sivin could be a regular house cat, but he could be a panther or some other black cat.

I, however, am fifteen in a couple weeks and very short at the height of five feet solid. I am only an inch taller than the tallest of dwarves, which stood at 4’ 11". At least that was the only non-awkward thing about me. My jet black hair was half my height, straight, which hangs flat and makes my smooth jawline seem all the smaller. I usually keep it in a high ponytail. I have choppy bangs. They go below my large, well kept eyebrows and somewhat into my crystal clear, icy blue eyes. They were so pale and glassy I was told I looked like I was about to cry all the time, and they would turn almost purple when I really was about to cry and the sclera becomes all red.

I wasn’t pale like the miners or tan like the lumber dwarves. I was the average medium, like Liz. We worked indoors and outdoors an equal amount doing chores to keep the cottage clean. My lips were pretty, but I have a slightly larger upper lip. I have no freckles or moles nor any sort of blemishes, though I wish I have. I wanted them because all the dwarves did. It’s superstition that if you did have freckles, you were bound to live a healthy life. I looked like a princess no matter how hard I worked at looking like a slob and it was almost annoying. I just wanted to fit in! I was strong from working with all the dwarves for most of my life, but I was thinner than them too. My collarbone jutted out in a creepy or ugly kind of way, and I have bony wrists. Contrastingly, I have big strong thighs. I’ve been told that I’m pear shaped.

Ok, me and Sivin are going out now! I yelled to Liz.

Have fun! I heard her reply. I’m surprised she didn’t give me a curfew.

I headed out of the dwarf cottage. It wasn’t actually a cottage, but more of a ginormous castle. It was big enough for eight hundred Dwarves to live in, with all their belongings. Also enough room for a huge kitchen, sixty bathrooms, twelve living rooms, and a school room in the cellar. Of course, it only looked small on the outside but was big on the inside with the help of a little (a lot of) expanding magic. Expanding magic is an inscription on the wood, called runes, the contractors use to build the house. When the house is complete, they activate the spell some way or another. Then the house becomes enlarged, but only on the inside.

That’s why it’s called a cottage, because of how it looks on the outside.

My home was cozy and warm wherever you went. In the summer we opened all the windows and the only fires were in the armory and the kitchen. We needed an armory because of our greedy neighbors, the trolls. They threatened war upon our land if we were late with our payment. The mountain next door was the border between our land and the trolls’. They couldn’t mine because they were too big, clumsy, and already couldn’t hardly see in broad daylight. Mining would be disastrous, they’d get lost ten feet away from the entrance. I’ve never encountered a troll. I’ve never encountered a lot of things, but I outran goblins, so there’s that. We’ve tried bluffing our payment with the big oafs, but they can taste the difference. Their only good sense is so overwhelmingly powerful they can tell when we give them an emerald over a sapphire, or coal instead of ore. Cue the first battle.

I sprinted out the door. It was raining, so I went back inside and grabbed an umbrella, then headed back out again. I opened up the inky black contraption and started for Midnight Woods. I’ve never been there because I’ve always been busy with chores and school. Now that my day is open; I can go anywhere as long as I’m back before dark. I gave myself a curfew since Liz was most likely cut off too soon. Oops, I’d have to apologize later. My home was only one grassy hill away from the woods. Only the grandfather clock that stood by the door stopped me from running back here. I wasn’t going to see the burned ruins of my old town, I was going in the other direction. I was going to the fairy village.

Uh, Serina… where are we going? Sivin asked me. His ear twitched and flicked back.

Midnight Woods. I stated flatly.

Oh. Aren’t there fairies and urchins in those Woods?

There should be.

We could get lost. The trees move like they do in Shadow Forest. M-maybe we could get trampled! O-or we-

Or maybe we could find the fairies, I cut in while Sivin looked unconvinced at me with his button sized eyes. I’d never seen a fairy nor an urchin. Or any other magical beings aside from Sivin and the dwarves… and goblins. I pushed away the faint memory. I knew what they looked like. Fairies are humans with wings, only they could be as small as my pinky finger. They could cast spells, but not curses. It’s because they were pure beings, like unicorns or silver knights. It’s like I’m making this up as I go, I’m not, rest assured. I’ve read silver