Genie: The Beginning

By J.D. Pender

When Princess Kacie was just learning to use her newly discovered powers as a young genie, she ran into Brom, literally. Both are on quests to learn the fates of their mothers, but now they must team up against one of the more powerful genies in the land if they are to survive. Jailok has had it in for the Princess since the day he laid eyes on her, sensing she would be trouble one day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667851174

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© 2022 J.D. Pender

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Print ISBN: 978-1-66785-116-7

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66785-117-4

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Prologue

In a time after Eden, on far distant shores, sat a land governed under a new law: Einon.

This was a powerful time, when on earth Man’s rule over nature and all who walked before him was new. Man’s dominion over all creatures great and small included rule over a race of powerful beings known as the Jinn. The secrets of the Jinn were only known by a few, and their true nature was even more a mystery than was the source of their majestic powers.

Folklore would come to know these Jinn as the Genies, and while their story does not begin in Einon, their story starts to become more clear with every new adventure.

Magical beings of fire able to take any form, Genies were able to command elements to their will, mastering the elements and transforming all with magic shadowed by heaven. Their appeal grew from stories of the great miracles in the land of Einon, a city of gold and immense treasure, a city that drew both those who were curious to see and those who were determined to conquer.

Despite these many miracles, and the tremendous power wielded by the Genie in the land, they were still limited by the one who controlled them, a man of repute no doubt; a man of nobility.

This was a time that tested men’s souls. From the rise of true kings and the demise of those found unworthy, this was an age of fire: hot, brutal, and final. Our story begins in Einon under the watchful eye of King Jared, a man of no small stature, a man of no small reputation, a man who like many before was swayed by temptation’s power.

Chapter 1

The kingdom of Einon lay fertile and ripe beneath a blistering blue sky. Morning broke with a dense mist of fog coating the green, verdant landscape like a blanket of new frost.

Surrounded by a patchwork of placid, mirrored lakes lay a vast, unspoiled green field. Behind it lay a sprawling mountain range, harsh and craggy and topped by deep inches of sparkling white snow. In front of this unspoiled pasture towered a majestic castle, soaring spires glittering in the fresh sunrise.

The streets glistened as the sun broke through the morning clouds and cleared the fog. The streets were already bustling with people, merchants, shoppers, travelers, young children playing, older children rushing to schools, and pets of all kinds running free but orderly. Everything seemed as though it were a normal large castle structure with a huge courtyard, multi-story homes, and buildings of all kinds including churches, blacksmiths, warehouses, and more. What was notably absent, however, was any sign of a military. There were no soldiers in the streets, no barracks, and no arms depot; in fact it appeared as there was no police or security presence of any kind in the city. Yet all citizens moved about and conducted their business as though there was a soldier stationed at every corner. It did not appear to be fear. The people seemed happy, joyful, excited at each other’s presence as they greeted one another in the streets. They were open and honest in their dealings; there was no whispering, no secret handshakes, no backbiting, in fact all appearances indicated that they lived in perfect harmony.

One exception proved to be the rule as a young girl with long, flowing red hair came tearing down the street on the back of a large, haired hog. Her white dress was dirt-spattered as though she had just run the hog through a mud patch. It certainly was a sight to see as pedestrians scrambled to get out of the way. Merchants’ wares spilled into the streets as people crashed into their displays. The first-time newcomers witnessed moments of anger as some yelled in frustration at the young girl’s mischievousness. Her name was Kacie, and she was late for school, again. The hog was her latest attempt at making up for lost time and trying to get to school faster, but was not the first animal to attempt a delivery. In fact, Kacie was quite adept at working with animals and getting them to do what she wanted. She tried a dog once, but it got sidetracked too much with different smells and sights and kept trying to stop along the way. She tried a pony, but it got scared at all the people and turned and ran the opposite direction, making her really late that day.

Today, however, Kacie did not slow down and kept the hog full-steam ahead right into the schoolhouse, causing an even bigger uproar of laughter and confusion as half the kids in the classroom laughed and the other half threw their learning materials in the air and ran to get out of the way. Many had not seen such a large hog so close up before, nor were they familiar with whether it would attack or not.

Nobody was more frustrated than the teacher, of course. Mrs. Marrenton was not a fan of Kacie, and her facial expression at the mess was not the only indicator. Her tone of voice, a rather high-pitched squeal, rivaled the hog’s own squeal and made even the large hog cower away as it retraced its steps back out the door after having delivered its precious cargo. Mrs. Marrenton tried to quickly restore order in the classroom. Still in her high, squeaky voice, she said, Class, class, sit down. Everyone, return to your seats and sit down. She continued, with a more focused death stare at Kacie, Kacie, your father is going to learn of this disruption yet again.

Kacie retorted, Mrs. Marrenton, I promise, I thought I was going to make it on time this time. Mr. Hog promised he could get me here on time.

Mrs. Marrenton was not to be removed from her desire to get Kacie in trouble at every chance she could get. She relished in the opportunity to tell on Kacie because she viewed Kacie as the single most destructive person in the city. Mrs. Marrenton turned without further engaging with Kacie and returned to the front of the classroom. Kacie huffed and puffed as she returned to her assigned seat at the back of the room, coincidentally the farthest possible seat from the teacher.

As Mrs. Marrenton started to speak to the class again, she was immediately interrupted before she could even get a full word out. The city bells rang out the familiar warning that an enemy force was approaching the city. Anyone who was outside the city was to immediately enter inside the city walls; all citizens were to enter the nearest building and were required to stay inside during what is usually a short-lived encounter until the sound of the all clear is given. The reason for the strict guidance is that by and large the people were not allowed to witness the King’s use of magic, and anyone who violated the rules would be dealt with quickly and severely. Some have tried in the past to witness the battles, and they were never seen again. Rumors, of course have swirled, but none have ever been confirmed. Nowadays, there is only one person who would ever even consider breaking the longstanding rule to not be a witness to magic being used within or without the city.

As the bells had rung, it was the duty of the teacher to lock down the school and ensure all kids stayed inside. In the excitement of the moment—as it had been quite some time since the last potential invading force had approached the city, and most of the kids in the classroom, including Kacie were much too young to remember—Mrs. Marrenton was quickly shouting instructions. Simon, close that window shade, as she pointed to the left of the room. Payson, close that window on the right, she said, pointing to the right window. Hedry and Lindon, close and seal the door, she shouted. As she was about to move on, she noticed Lindon raise his hand timidly. What Lindon?! she exclaimed with a slightly more agitated tone. Lindon was hesitant to be the bearer of the news. Um, Mrs. Marrenton? he said questioningly, still with his hand raised. I said, what? Mrs. Marrenton, now even more agitated, yelled back. Lindon continued now even more shyly, Um, Kacie left the room.

He backed farther away and into a defensive posture expecting even more blowback from Mrs. Marrenton at the new revelation. Instead she looked all about the room, every which way. She stooped low, she looked up high, she looked to the left, she looked to the right, and then she slowly turned back to Lindon and Hedry with a sly grin on her face. Close and seal the door, she said wryly.

From the craggy base of the mountains emerged the thundering footsteps of a powerful army. Thousands of foot soldiers in standard armor marched in step, heavy shields clattering against their forged copper breastplates.

Scarred leather boots with dirty laces trampled the emerald green grass beneath their feet as hairy legs trod ever forward; left, right, left, right, until the trampled ground beneath their feet turned to a thick, soiled mud. Grizzled faces, featuring twisted beards and bloodshot eyes, were set in permanent grimaces beneath dented copper helmets set low on lined foreheads.

Just behind the foot soldiers, their legs longer, less heavily muscled, their armor lighter and more flexible, strode the archers; 300 of the valley’s bravest, most accurate assassins. Their helmets were leather, their faces clean shaven, their posture erect as on their backs clattered long, leather sheathes full of multi-quivered arrows.

In front of the foot soldiers a mounted cavalry unit rode on thick steeds with thickly muscled legs, bred for strength, not speed. Leather saddles creaked with the weight of their riders, clad in half-armor and wearing sheaths for swords on both of their hips.

In all, the procession numbered over 5,000 warriors, each prepared to fight to the death on this, or any other day, for the slim chance at a better life full of wealth and luxury. At their lead was a small rank of commanders, with one man riding five full horse-lengths out in front.

Lord Balderon struck a massive, if not noble, presence, a stark contrast from the men under his command. His rich, dark beard was closely trimmed and his green eyes wide and fiery. His nostrils flared with purpose under a horned helmet, his chest strained the limits of his light armor just as his biceps bulged beneath the brass rings that signified the bonds of his clan.

On his belt a single sword, forged in fire, honed in battle, eager and ready to be tested this day. As they neared the castle, Balderon held up a single hand, pausing his entire army with that one, forceful gesture. Surely nobody has brought this type of force to bear on Einon before, he mused inwardly. The city of gold and treasure will soon be his, a feat he had waited many years to accomplish. He clearly exuded confidence, but the stories of Einon’s magic were not lost on him.

Balderon, or Lord Balderon, was born son of Lord Denton, a noble who served under King Greydorn of Einon, the same whose kingdom was taken by King Jared many years ago. He had been raised by relatives in secret, having lost most of his immediate family members when King Jared and his magic conquered the kingdom, but here he was, finally returning to claim a throne wrongly usurped and rightly his.

As the thousands of men at his back ground to a halt, Balderon turned to Major General Jailok, his second in command, whose shiny black steed approached their fearless leader. One glance at the towering General silenced any dispute as to why he was second in command. He alone was even greater than the size of Lord Balderon in every way. Wearing no armor and carrying no weapon at his side, he was unabashed in his appearance, a noticeable difference from the other commanders who each wore adornments to symbolize their stature and rank of nobility. No, Jailok needed no such trinkets, for his size alone spoke volumes. He wore a flowing, hooded cloak that had the sleeves removed to show his massive arms. There were no special inscriptions or insignias to denote rank, but the image of a dragon’s head on the back was known by all, and the very sight would cause men to quake. It was rumored among the men that he wore the image of the dragon’s head because he killed a dragon with his bare hands.

Lord Balderon signaled to Jailok to stand still, and he alone approached the castle, leaving his Army a considerable distance from the enormous gated kingdom that lay in their path. Stopping just outside its massive double doors, Balderon glanced up, up and up, marveling at the massive granite walls until the mist blocked his view. He shifted his weight forward on his steed and took in a deep breath, which he used to bellow his challenge to the King of Einon: Jared, son of a peasant pig, come out to arms!

Balderon strode back and forth in front of the gates, yelling more insults, louder and louder. Jared, bastard son of the devil, come out and bow before me. Balderon continued, I will spare the people of this great city in your honor if you surrender now. After several moments of riding back and forth, Balderon turned towards his fully assembled Army and raised his arms in the air as he slowly returned toward them. Immediately the men started to clamor with one accord, banging their weapons on their chests and shields and chanting Bald-er-on!

The clamor came to an abrupt halt when the doors creaked open in due time, moving swiftly for such massive mountains of gold and wood. Three riders approached, one specifically in front with a gallant look wearing a shimmering gold crown and a blue robe of shimmering silk. A white beard, neatly braided, traveled nearly to his waist, while blue eyes to match his robe sparkled with intelligence, leadership, and wit. He was not a man of mighty stature like Balderon or Jailok, but he did have a commanding presence about him. He, like Jailok, rode with no armor and no weapons.

As Balderon braced himself for the thundering approach of the King’s massive army, instead only a small compliment of 100 lightly armored soldiers emerged at his back. Spreading out in two lines of 50 each to either side of the great archway, the soldiers waited casually atop their identical white horses.

The soldiers wore only slightly more armor than the King, their fine clothes gilt in gold and threaded to match. At their sides, half-swords—hardly bigger than daggers—swung in sheaths forged of gold to match their armored tunics. Ornate saddles featured matching gold patterns and braided reins as their perfectly groomed horses stood perfectly still.

The soldiers carried shields of gold and silver construction with animals of many types emblazoned on the front of each shield. At first glance a seasoned soldier could tell that the shields belonged as a decoration on a wall rather than on the field of combat, yet here they were. The rider’s faces were clean, almost placid, and expressionless. Balderon noted that they regarded him with a maddening sense of confidence. He might even say…overconfidence.

As the King rode out to meet Lord Balderon, he was flanked by two older men at his side. His face, too, was plastered with the same overconfident smile. Balderon snorted and turned, purposefully, to regard his carefully aligned array of 5,000 men. He signaled to Jailok to join him.

He had to admit, decked out in dented armor, faces battle scarred and angry, helmets quivering with rage, hands atop their swords and ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice, they struck quite a scene.

He turned back, almost lazily, to the King.

Face to face, Balderon spat on the pristine grass at his steed’s feet and grunted, "I see you dressed well for your surrender. I accept your