Dust of Earth: A Fantasy Adventure: Quest of the Guardians, #1

By S.R. Olson

A time-traveling king must save the future in order

to save the past...

 

King Jakin Daxx thought he didn't need to pay attention to

prophecies about what is going to happen three hundred

years in the future. But then, he faces an evil opponent and

wakes up in a world that remembers him as a coward who ran

away. Determined to return to his own time so he can save

his family, Jakin sets out to restore the key to his magic.

 

But the world has changed. It has been divided into four

elemental realms ruled by High Priests who are loyal to his

enemy, and each holds one piece of the Te'eta.

 

Fifteen year old Malakai Jenks lives a simple life and has

simple goals: Take care of his ailing mother, and woo the

village beauty. But then he trips over an unconscious stranger

and everything Malakai thought he knew about his world is

turned upside down. Swept up in a race against the alignment

of three moons, Malakai embarks on an adventure that will

challenge everything he's ever believed.

 

Welcome to the Quest of the Guardians: an epic tale of

adventure, mystery, and magic in a world where giants are

common, poison grows on trees, and nothing is as it seems...

 

Dust of Earth is Episode One in the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.R. Olson
• Release date: Feb 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524286361

S.R. Olson

S.R. Olson has traveled throughout most of the lower-48 and has held many job positions including horse trainer, photographer, columnist, teacher, and snow-plow operator. She is an avid student of ancient history and cultures, as well as an armchair philosopher. All of which she injects into her fiction stories. Disabled by a back injury in 2006, she now lives in rural Minnesota with her two Miniature Pinschers, who keep her around because she has opposable thumbs and can open doors and stuff. She’s also a push-over when it comes to handing out doggy-treats.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The Dark Army

Hurry, you must go! Jakin tugged at his wife’s arm, gesturing down a dark corridor echoing with the sounds of the battle outside. Now! There is no time! He held the torch higher to light the way for her as she followed the soldiers of the King’s Guard. Down the passageway and through arched doorways that led to even darker corridors, their feet crunched on the ancient dirt of the castle dungeons.

Where will we go? his wife, the Queen, whispered, clutching their infant daughter closer to her chest.

Jakin noted the fear in her eyes and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, gesturing to Maaoteo to take the Queen’s maids and go ahead of them. You must go to Koss, there are people there who will help you. They are waiting. It is all arranged. Maaoteo will see to your safety.

He caressed the tiny curl-covered head of their daughter. Keep her safe, no matter what it takes. She is the future of the land. He leaned over to kiss the princess on the forehead. I will follow as quickly as I can, but you must go now.

Come with us, Jessamyne whispered, wiping the spattered blood of battle from Jakin’s cheek with her thumb. There is nothing more you can do here.

You know I can’t. He brushed a strand of dark hair away from her face. I must get the Te'eta. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. I was a fool, I should have used it the moment they crossed the Forbidden Bridge. I must correct my error—

No, my love, Jessamyne murmured, fear flashing in her eyes as she pressed her hand against his chest.

Dust rained down from above as the castle shuddered violently.

They’ve broken through into the Great Hall, Jakin murmured, but then regretted it when Jessamyne clutched the infant closer to her chest and her eyes grew wide with terror.

You two, come with me. Jakin nodded to two soldiers waiting nearby. He kissed his wife one last time and urged her toward the tunnel hidden behind an ancient statue of a flying beast, the name of which was long forgotten.

Go. Now.

Choking back her tears, Jessamyne did as she was bid, covering little Galiya’s face with the edge of her skirt to shield her from the dirt sifting down from the walls around them, crumbling beneath the onslaught of the battle outside that shook the castle to its foundations. She glanced back as Jakin jogged away to retrieve the Te'eta. Good-bye, my love, she whispered.

Sprinting through secret passageways, Jakin and the soldiers made their way to the Temple Tower. Battle cries echoed through the corridors as his loyal soldiers fought the intruders, the clash of steel on steel ringing like the bells of doom. All that was left was to save the Te'eta. Why hadn’t he listened when the Wise Ones had advised him to destroy Faeran? None of this would be happening if he had killed him instead of only exiling him.

Jakin gave himself a mental shake as they climbed the tower stairs and approached the heavy stone door. No time for regrets now. What is done, is done. As he pushed the door with all his might, it pivoted open and he peeked into the Temple room. It was empty, there was still time. Guard the door, he commanded the soldiers before stepping inside the Temple and pushing the door closed behind him.

Jakin quickly scanned the room before his eyes settled on the Te’eta. Sitting on its platform in the center of four symbol-carved stone pillars, the artifact’s small size belied its power.

A pure white light beamed through an opening in the ceiling, striking the flat center of the Te’eta and engulfing it in a glow that scattered through each of its four spiraled arms, creating new golden beams of light shining to each of the four pillars.

He approached the first pillar and reached for the spike at its top where the light returned to the beam’s source in the ceiling. With a sizzling crack, a bolt of light shot out of the pillar and zapped Jakin, throwing him to the floor.

Idiot! he muttered as he scrambled to his feet and began to unhook the clasps that held his armor in place. Piling it on a nearby table with his sword lying at its side, he tried again. This time the Te’eta allowed his touch and he curled his fingers around the spike. He began to chant the sounds he’d memorized as a boy.

No’uwids f’os egh’th ro’uwld inhj’on s’as egh’on

The golden light glowed brighter for a moment and then shimmered all the colors of the rainbow before the light beam to that pillar vanished into one of the spiraled arms of the Te'eta. Jakin moved around the floor to the next pillar and started again, this time placing his hand in a groove along the right side of the pillar.

No’ulads f’os egh’th ro’uwld inhj’on s’as egh’on

The light glowed brighter, and then it shimmered a bright green before disappearing into another arm of the Te'eta.

Jakin heard voices shouting outside the door and the clatter of steel on steel as his men battled the intruders. His heart raced as he moved to the third pillar and placed his hand in the groove on its left side, chanting another spell and watching the light glow blue before it disappeared. Then he moved to the fourth and final pillar. This one was the most dangerous.

Clasping the pendant he wore around his neck, he leaned his forehead against the pillar and began reciting its spell. The golden light changed to a dark and ominous red and Jakin felt its heat surge through his body. A sizzling sound accompanied the burning sensation against his forehead, but he willed himself to hold it in place and wait for the sensation to pass. With a flash, the light vanished into the final arm of the Te'eta just as the Temple door crashed open and Faeran strode into the room.

Tall and slim, with sleek black hair reminiscent of a raven’s wing, Faeran would have looked like a starved scarecrow if not for the black eyes that peered out from under heavy brows, eyes that seemed to look right through a man and know all his secrets in an instant. Jakin leapt for the Te'eta just as Faeran shouted, No! and sent a ball of light from the palm of his hand toward the King.

Instinctively, Jakin grabbed the Te'eta and held it in front of his body like a shield. With a thunderous boom, the ball of light struck the Te'eta and Jakin vanished, the four spiraled arms of the Te’eta crashing to the floor like discarded puzzle pieces that no longer fit together.

All across the land, the ground shook and split open, swallowing whole villages. Others were destroyed by tornadoes that sprang from clear skies, and tidal waves as big as mountains drowned coastal lands. Volcanoes erupted and cities burned and cries of confusion and terror filled the air.

Stumbling as the castle shook and shuddered, Faeran gathered the pieces of the Te'eta and then gazed out a window to where his army below was crushing the King’s men like a child steps on ants. His brow furrowed as he watched whirlwinds leap unhindered from the sky and sweep across the valley toward the castle. His gaze shifted to the spiraled pieces he held in his hands as understanding washed across his face.

Faeran smiled.

CHAPTER TWO

Malakai Jenks

Malakai Jenks steadied himself against a boulder and waited for the ground tremor to pass. That’s the third one this morning, Babs, he said to the fat donkey at his side. His Uncle Joziah used to joke that Babs was the fattest ass he’d ever seen, but Uncle Joziah didn’t visit anymore, not since the Jax Riders started patrolling the valley day and night.

In the distance, Malakai could see the Jax Riders flying back and forth, pausing sometimes to look at something and then moving on. He’d seen a Jax up close once. They were as big as horses with pincer jaws that looked like they could snap a man’s head off, and their stingers were so long that Malakai wondered why they bothered with venom. He couldn’t imagine anything surviving their stab.

C’mon Babs, he said, tugging the donkey’s lead. I don’t want to be here when they get to this end of the valley.

Babs grunted and seemed to consider for a moment before deciding to waddle obediently beside Malakai. She was loaded down with the supplies Malakai had acquired in Koss and the ground was rocky and uneven, so she stepped carefully despite Malakai’s urging tugs on the lead.

Watching the Jax Riders getting closer, Malakai didn’t notice the body lying on the ground until he stepped on it and nearly fell on his face. When he caught himself on out-flung hands, pain shot through his wrist. Babs snorted and trotted a few feet away before she decided running away required too much effort. Malakai thought he heard the body groan.

Mister? Hey mister? You okay? Malakai shook the man’s shoulders. I’m sorry I stepped on you, but... Malakai paused, noting the tailored quality of the man’s clothes and hoping he wasn’t going to get into trouble. This guy looked important.

The man’s eyelids fluttered open for a moment and he looked confused, then he grabbed Malakai’s arm and whispered, You must...help... Then he fainted.

Malakai peeked over a boulder at the Jax Riders who were flying straight toward them, drawn by the activity of Malakai’s fall and Babs snorting. In a flash, Malakai remembered how his father had said that no one deserves to be handed over to the Jax Riders, so he looked around for a way to hide the man. With a grunt he rolled the man under the edge of a nearby boulder and covered him with the thorny brush that was the only thing that would grow in this valley. He prayed to the Trah’ez that the Jax Riders wouldn’t see what he was doing while he tore the brush out of the rocky ground. Dusting himself off he picked up Babs’s lead and tried to look casual just as the first Rider landed his Jax atop the same boulder Malakai had just hidden the man beneath. The Jax’s wings buzzed and tousled Malakai’s wavy brown hair.

You, boy, what are you doing?

Malakai’s stomach twisted as he looked at the Rider’s burn-scarred face, half hidden by a battle helmet inlaid with human finger bones that matched the human ribs in his armor. The Jax’s wings buzzed again as it shifted to face Malakai. I—I’m traveling supplies from Koss back to my village, my lord, to Hornberry Draw.

The Rider scowled. But what were you doing just now? When you were digging in the ground?

Malakai’s heart raced. They’d seen him. Two more Jax Riders landed, one to either side of him. Oh, he said, trying to sound nonchalant, I tripped over a rock and fell. See? He held up his arm. I sprained my wrist. I guess it took a while to get up again because it hurt... He trailed off, hoping he didn’t sound like he was trying too hard to be convincing.

The Rider studied his face. You say you’ve just come from Koss. Do you have any of those cakes? You know, the ones with the honey in the center? I do like those cakes! The other Riders laughed.

Malakai’s heart sank. He’d traded for the honey cakes as a surprise for his mother—they were her favorite and she’d been ill—but he supposed it was a small sacrifice to gain the favor of the Jax Riders. Yes, my lord, I do... He tugged a package out of the bundle on Babs’s back and held it up for the Rider.

Bring it to me, boy!

Malakai looked at the Jax, which was snapping its mouth pincers sharply, and slowly advanced holding the package in front of him as far as he could reach. The Jax’s wings buzzed again as the Rider shifted his weight to reach for the package.

Malakai released it and backed away slowly.

We’re looking for a man. Have you seen anyone out here? The Rider tore open the package and took a big bite of cake, honey oozing down over his dirty fingers. He seemed only half interested in Malakai’s answer.

No sir. Haven’t seen anyone. He felt himself blush and hoped the Rider wouldn’t notice. His mother had always said she could tell when he was lying because his face would turn red.

Well, if you do see anyone, you let us know right away. If you don’t, I’ll let Henrietta here tear you apart with her pincers. Understand?

Y-y-yes sir, Malakai stuttered, his eyes darting to the giant black wasp.

The Riders flew away, leaving the paper cake wrapper crumpled on the ground. Malakai’s shaky knees buckled. As soon as he was sure they weren’t coming back, he scrambled over to the boulder and pulled away the brush hiding the man. His eyes were open now. Malakai was grateful he’d known to keep quiet.

Thank you, the man whispered, struggling to roll out from under the boulder.

We can’t stay here, Malakai replied, Can you walk?

I think so. The man pushed himself to his knees and Malakai helped him to his feet.

Wait! The man’s gaze darted around, Where is the— He stopped and studied Malakai’s face, a glimmer of distrust in his eyes.

Malakai’s brow lifted quizzically as the man began over turning stones and searching for something, finally coming up with what looked like a flat gray stone with notches carved into its sides. He caught a glimpse of a strange symbol on its surface before the man tucked it inside his shirt.

Okay, we can go now. The man seemed relieved.

Malakai nodded. He didn’t want to wait for the Jax Riders to come back either, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake.

CHAPTER THREE

The Yellow Castle

Captain Grung stood in the Temple Tower and looked out the same window King Faeran had looked out centuries earlier. In the distance his men patrolled the valley as they’d been doing every day for years. What a waste of his men’s time. He didn’t know why Major Garekk insisted they stay here. Maybe it was because of that mix-up at Hornberry Draw when his men had burned the vineyard and deprived them all of Hornberry wine for a full year. He turned away from the window and stared at the Te’eta pillars still standing in the center of the room, their symbols long ago chiseled off at King Faeran’s command.

Garekk had said they would patrol this valley until the moons moved apart, so they could be stuck here for awhile yet. Unless they could find the remains of the Coward King. Half his men were digging in and around the castle, night and day, anxious to find something so they could return to the Z’lea lands and their families.

Captain Grung? Kragen pounded on the door.

What is it? Grung growled.

Kragen opened the door. We’ve found something sir, in the dungeon.

Yes? Well, what is it?

A skeleton, sir. You may want to come look for yourself.

At last,—! Maybe they’d be going home sooner than he’d thought. Grung followed Kragen out the door and down the spiraling tower stairs, through the crumbled remains of the castle and past the pile of dirt and stone blocks his men had excavated, to the cave entrance that was all that remained of the passageway leading to the subterranean dungeons. Kragen led him through to a room they’d discovered a few days ago that was scattered with the broken remains of statues to the only one that still stood: a giant Jax. Behind the statue they’d found an opening just big enough to crawl through.

Inside. Kragen pointed, It gets bigger after a few feet.

Grung squeezed through the opening, his shoulders barely fitting. With a grunt he pushed through until the passage opened into a proper tunnel where he could stand upright. Here his men were waiting, waving and pointing further down the passage.

Down there, sir!

In the flickering torch light two of his men stood beside a partially covered human skeleton.

At last, Grung grunted. Well, hurry up! Let’s see what we’ve found.

His men leapt into action, clearing away the rubble until the full skeleton was exposed.

This is a woman, Grung snorted, noting the tattered remains of a gown. We’re looking for a man.

Yessir, Kragen agreed, but we think this was the Queen. See the needlework around the collar?

Grung kneeled beside the skeleton and sifted through the broken bone shards of ribs and sternum. Can’t be the Queen, there’s no Pendant of Te’eta.

No sir, but look over there. Kragen pointed to some markings scratched into the wall. It’s likely she wasn’t alone. She was the Queen, after all. Maybe her guards or handmaids took the pendant?

Grung snatched a torch from one of his men and searched around the skeleton. And the princess, too, he muttered. Send a messenger, we must inform King Faeran.

# # #

The last thing Jakin remembered was a flash of light, the Te’eta exploding, and then falling. Falling and falling until he finally fell into blackness. And then there was this boy he didn’t know and men with gravelly voices asking for honey cakes and saying they were looking for someone.

He rubbed his throbbing temples as he followed the boy and his very fat donkey across the valley and along the edge of a clump of stunted trees, trying to remember what had happened. This place seemed familiar, and yet alien. Everything looked wrong. He had to find out where he was. He had to find out what had happened to Jessamyne and Galiya.

With a few long strides he was beside the boy. Boy, uh, what’s your name?

Malakai Jenks, sir, of Hornberry Draw. Malakai smiled and stood a little taller. And your name, sir?

Hornberry Draw... Jakin remembered a place called Hornbush Draw. It was little more than a gully in the mountains full of thorny bushes. Uh...you can call me Jakin.

Jakin? Malakai’s lips twitched. Your parents didn’t like you much, huh?

Jakin studied the boy’s face, trying to discern the joke. Finally he asked, And where are we now?

Malakai tipped his head to one side. Well, this is the Valley of the Yellow Castle, of course.

Yellow Castle? Jakin had never heard of a yellow castle.

Well, yes sir, see there? At the far end of the valley? He pointed to where the Jax Riders had resumed their patrolling.

Jakin stared in disbelief. The familiar Temple Tower stood tall and bleak surrounded by a pile of rubble that had once been his home. Strange black creatures flew in the sky above it in slow, lazy circles.

Why is it called the Yellow Castle? He almost didn’t want to know.

Malakai stopped and stared at Jakin. Are you sure you’re okay, sir? Maybe I should take you to see a healer...

No—please. I’m okay. I’m just a little confused, is all. I must have hit my head...

Malakai ran a hand through his hair, looking at the sinking sun. We’ll camp here. It isn’t safe to travel the pass at night, you know, because of the tremors. Maybe a good night’s sleep will clear your mind. He reached for Babs’s girth. Help me set up camp and then I’ll tell you about the Yellow Castle. You can build a fire, right?

Jakin nodded but the boy was already pulling the packs off of Babs. He gathered some dried wood and cleared a place for a campfire while the boy hobbled the donkey and put out some blankets. When he’d built a crisscrossed pile of dried sticks he waved his hand over it to light the fire but nothing happened. He tried again, this time concentrating harder, but his efforts only conjured a few sparks and a puff of smoke. Jakin stared at the sticks, scowling. Fire starting was child’s play. He’d been able to do it when he was three. He tried again, this time focusing all of his energy on one spot in the middle of the pile of sticks. A few more sparks and another puff of weak smoke. In the back of his mind he had a vague memory of reading something about his ancestors rubbing two sticks together to start a fire, so he picked up two sticks and started rubbing, hoping he was doing it right.

Here, use mine. Malakai tossed a leather pouch to Jakin.

Jakin opened the pouch and looked inside; it was filled with little glass balls that sparked and shimmered on their insides. What am I supposed to do with these?

One should be enough. Malakai said.

Jakin selected one ball and held it up so the waning sunlight would shine through it. In the very center there was a single flame surrounded by sparks. He set it on the pile of sticks and waited to see what would happen.

Here, stand back... Malakai scooped up the little ball and rubbed it between the palms of his hands. Most people have to strike them with a rock, but this works for me. He stood back and threw it sharply into the pile of sticks where it burst into flames, engulfing the pile of wood. There—. He smiled at Jakin. It will burn until morning, or until we put it out. Whichever comes first, of course.

Jakin watched the boy prepare a simple meal of stew and stale bread as the dusk light faded to darkness, but he was lost in thought. When he’d failed to conjure a simple campfire he’d begun to wonder what had happened to his magic, so he’d tried a few other simple spells while the boy wasn’t looking. He’d tried to conjure a breeze, but failed. Next he tried to roll some pebbles with his mind. Again, nothing. He couldn’t even manage a tiny whirlpool in his mug of water. His magic was gone. What had Faeran done to him with that ball of light? And where were the arms of the Te’eta? He pulled it out of his shirt and studied it. In the Temple it had been shiny and full of colors that rippled beneath the surface polish. But now it just looked like a flat gray stone with the central Ti’ynu symbol carved in the middle. His fingers traced the notches where there had once been spiraled arms and more symbols. One for each of the elements. That must be it. He doesn’t have the elemental arms. That must be why he can no longer conjure their magic. He wished he’d listened better when the Yolmar had tutored him as a boy. Maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess now. And where was Jessamyne? And Galiya, his precious daughter? His heart twisted in pain, worried for their well-being. He must find out what had happened to them.

He tucked the Te’eta piece back in his shirt. Malakai....will you tell me about the Yellow Castle now?

Sure. Malakai handed Jakin a bowl of stew and a spoon before sitting on the log Jakin had pulled near the fire.

Why do they call it the Yellow Castle?

Malakai swallowed a bite of stew and washed it down with a gulp of water from a gourd canteen. The legend is that it was covered with gold, but that’s all gone now. Mostly they call it the Yellow Castle because it was the home of the Coward King.

The Coward King? Jakin’s gut twitched in protest, but he didn’t comment—he just wanted to hear the story.

Before King Faeran saved the kingdom, Malakai continued, it was ruled by a different King. King Jakin. Malakai looked sideways at Jakin. King Jakin was charged with keeping the elements in balance so his kingdom would be a safe place for everyone and everyone would prosper. And for a time, that’s what he did. But when the Dark Army came from across the wastelands, King Jakin saw that he could not win the battle. So, rather than fight, he unleashed the elements and ran away. Malakai kicked a stick into the fire, his face scrunched in disgust. He took his wife and daughter with him and left everyone else to die. So now they call his home the Yellow Castle because he was a coward.

Jakin started to object, but then decided against it. What happened after the King, uh, disappeared?

Well, King Faeran saved us, of course. Malakai smiled like a true loyalist. He brought the elements under control so the kingdom wouldn’t be destroyed.

How did he do that? Jakin thought of the center element