Darkrunner Rising

By A.J. Larke

Reylyn Hummel is the only half-elf in the village, and it doesn't make her popular. Her only friends are the Infernal Hellzebub and his feathered minions. When the villagers go too far, Hellzebub helps her escape in exchange for helping him get his throne in the Lower Planes back from his sister, the overly-ambitious Celestial, Tiaphima. This lands Reylyn in Timbercrest, where all the rules about elves, humans, and orcs, about good and evil, are different. Where even she can have friends and family. Where having friends and family will be more dangerous and more difficult than being the villain of her village.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.J. Larke
• Release date: Nov 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201338756

A.J. Larke

A.J. Larke grew up in New England and began writing stories as soon as she could put words on paper. She ran the school newspaper in middle and high school but after shadowing a reporter for a day realized it was definitely not for her. Later, as a middle school English and social studies teacher, she ran creative writing workshops and told stories to her classes. Playing Dungeons & Dragons is an endless source of inspiration that develops the deep, well-rounded characters that are the basis for her stories. If A.J. isn’t writing or talking about her characters, she’s thinking about them.

Book preview

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Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Map

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Interlude

Thayel

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Interlude

Thayel

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Interlude

Thayel

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Pantheon

Glossary

Acknowledgements

About the Author

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

Cover: GetCovers.com

Editor: Olivia Fisher

Publisher contact: [e-mail]

Copyright © 2022 byA.J. Larke

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

ISBN: 9798792177727 (standard paperback); 9798793747110 (hardcover)

First Edition: August 2022

To Nana and Bubba

Thank you for sharing your stubbornness and love of stories with me, without which I could never have written this book.

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Chapter 1

My birds warned me before I saw anything. At their insistent shrieking I hurried to pull the second bucket up from the well, heart in my throat. What would it be today? Yesterday it had been a tomato thrown at my head, and the day before it had been a chamber pot accidentally emptied just as I happened to be walking by an open window.

I listened hard as I placed the full bucket of water on the ground and straightened up. The village square looked like it usually did. The well, stocks, and orc bell stood together in the center, and a handful of people were already out and about, creating the low hum of a village going about its routine. Doors to the blacksmith, shrine, and baker stood open to the early autumn morning sunshine, and the smell of freshly baked bread drifted out onto the cool air.

The buildings in the square weren’t large by anyone’s judgement, but they were neat and well maintained. New thatch had been added to the roofs that needed it, windows and doors had been repaired over the summer, and all the storefronts now were neat and ready for the upcoming harvest festival. The sound of the blacksmith’s hammer rang out across the square. The shrine door was open but empty, although the old Dedicate who tended it had already placed fresh chrysanthemums in the stone planter next to the door. The planter was shaped like a beautiful woman with wings, and the bright fiery blooms placed there looked as though she held tiny, perfect bursts of fire in red, orange, and yellow.

A few villagers had started their morning chores early, some already in cloaks against the chilly morning air, and they froze to watch me and the birds circling around my head. None seemed armed with tomatoes or other possible threats, though one woman in a brown cloak and dark blue kerchief already had a loaf of bread in her basket. She paused in the doorway of the baker’s shop and narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

Nothing looked amiss, but my birds still squawked and shrieked, hopping at my feet and clinging to my shoulders. A few more flew in wide circles around the square. The onlookers watched them nervously from the edge of the square. The birds had been with me for about four years, arriving the morning after I’d complained to my friend Bubba that I didn’t have anyone to play with and was lonely. They had only recently started coming with me into the village square for water, though. Bubba had gotten me to tell him about the little incidents that happened every time I went to town. The next morning, the raven I now called Noir had ridden my shoulder the entire journey from my house to the well and back.

Since having a flock of birds constantly hovering around me made me even more different than I already was, people had another reason to be suspicious of me. Pointy ears and feathery friends did not win me any popularity points when it came to adults or other kids.

Noir? What is it? I asked him.

Reylyn’s at it again, I heard the blacksmith mutter. It was obviously meant for my ears as well as for his customer—his voice wouldn’t ordinarily be heard from this far away—so I ignored him.

But Reylyn was me, not what was upsetting my flock.

I looked around again. Nothing.

Calm down, I said. There’s nothing there. I picked up my buckets and turned away from the well. I took a couple of steps back toward home, reassured by the weight of the full buckets I carried. Maybe I’d get home peacefully after all. I craned my neck far in one direction to see if there were any possible troublemakers on the horizon.

Suddenly, a glob of spit landed at my feet. I looked up and saw a familiar girl, twelve like me but two inches taller, sneering down at me. She wore her pale blonde hair in a single, long braid down her back and carried herself like a queen. Eppinia Greenleaf. She was a farmer’s kid, dressed in a plain homespun dress in browns, blues, and whites, just like every other girl in the village, but seemed to have a perpetual sneer of condescension on her face whenever she looked my way. I wasn’t fooled. I’d seen her acting very sweet and innocent to her parents at village festivals, like she’d never thrown a tomato in her life.

More farmer kids were gathering behind her, grinning in anticipation of whatever they had planned. I knew they didn’t follow Eppinia for her friendship or her warm and caring leadership style. She wasn’t smart or attractive, either. But joining her gang kept them from being attacked like I was probably about to be.

Morning Eppinia. I made my voice as snide as possible. Maybe if I sound mean enough, they’ll leave me alone today. But even as I thought it, I knew it was hopeless. This torment was almost as much a part of my routine as getting water from the well.

She sneered at me, her long blonde braid twitching behind her head like a cat’s tail. Morning, little monster. Here to curse someone again?

I scowled. Apparently, being friends with a flock of birds meant I had magical powers. If I could curse people, I’d already have cursed you, moron, I snapped.

Don’t call her a moron, you little freak! One of her friends, a short, dark-haired girl, glared at me from the safety of the group. A couple others chuckled or nudged her in appreciation of the insult. But they seemed to draw a little closer together, almost as if they were afraid of me.

Go back to the elves, orcbait. No one wants you here, another kid said.

I was born here, stupid. Just like you. My voice quivered for just a second. I ran a hand over the small point at the top of my ear and let my mess of light brown hair fall back down over it. Everyone knew what I was, but hiding the telltale sign of my mother’s infidelity made me a little more confident. I was clearly a half-elf, but both my parents were human. Everyone else in Mox was human. Only I was different.

You gonna cry, knife ears? We hurt your feelings by telling you what you are? Why you have no friends? Eppinia laughed.

You’re not that important. I don’t care what you or any of your dumb friends think of me. Go back to playing in the dirt, you overgrown pig. You’ll be cleaner that way.

She didn’t even bother to reply, just squinted at me. She wouldn’t have a smarter comeback, anyway. Instead, she balled up her fist and drove it straight into my stomach. I doubled over, stumbled back a step, and felt a sharp pain against my ear as my head made contact with the edge of the well. The buckets splashed to the ground as I fell, one hand going automatically to the side of my head. My birds started making a racket with their shrieks and caws.

Some wings flapped, and Eppinia stopped laughing. I looked up to see Chancy, one of my crows, and a little petrel I’d named Fallow hopping up and down in front of her. Others of my flock were similarly facing down other members of Eppinia’s gang.

My head throbbed as I stood. The world was spinning, but I focused on not throwing up. As I got to my feet and glared at my bully, I felt tiny sharp claws on my shoulders. Noir.

I didn’t care anymore. I’d pretended like it didn’t bother me for the last time. Today, I didn’t press down the rage that glowed on my face and in my chest. Today, I let it fill me. Dark wings beat the air all around me as my friends rose into the air behind and around me.

I wasn’t alone.

Get her, I told the birds, my face calm and cold. The birds had never obeyed me, but maybe my glare and command alone would drive Eppinia away. I could tell from her wide eyes and frozen expression that the birds scared her. I stood there glaring, putting up a wall of fierceness I didn’t feel. It would be a matter of moments before they laughed at me and chased me from the square.

We stood there, facing off.

To everyone’s surprise, including my own, my birds launched into action, screeching and pecking at Eppinia and her gang. The bullies screamed and scattered, covering their heads as they retreated. My flock swooped and dove at them. A few crows even used the kids as targets for their droppings. I whooped and laughed.

An angry hum of gossip rose from the adults who had seen everything. The ones who had been watching in frozen fascination out in the open now scooted for the shelter of the nearest shop, probably to spread the news and speculate on just how evil my birds and I were.

My birds had never done what I’d told them or attacked humans before. Had they hurt the kids, or just scared them? Whatever they’d done, I hoped it was enough to get them to leave me alone tomorrow and every day after that.

I sat with my back against the well, rubbing my head as I watched my flock chase the kids out of sight. No blood or swelling—just a dull headache that I could ease with tea once I got home with the water.

One problem at a time.

The buckets had spilled. I refilled them and started back home again, watchful for potential payback. Everything was still in the usually buzzing square. Here and there was a head poked around a doorway, peering at me from the safety of a shop, but none made a move in my direction. They whispered to each other, and I scowled at them as I passed, trying to look intimidating.

It wouldn’t matter in the long run. Eppinia and the rest would be back tomorrow with an even more painful torment planned. No doubt they’d want revenge for this.

Nothing to do but head home with my water. I passed the orc bell and stocks, leaving the villagers to their gossip.

By tonight, the story will be that I turned into a bird and led the attack myself.

My birds returned victorious from their battle when I was well out of view of the square. As they landed around me, I stopped and gave them plenty of pats and the rest of the crumbs in my pockets.

You were all amazing, I told them. A couple of ravens pecked at my dress; they knew exactly where I kept their favorite treats. I smiled.

When they had finished gobbling up the last of the crumbs from my pocket, they gathered around me to escort me home. My shoulders relaxed the further from the square I got. It was a comfort to have them on the road from town to this point of my daily journey.

I’ll talk to Bubba tonight, after Papa is in bed. If Papa doesn’t make me go to the tavern. Maybe he has a way to get me out of here soon. Or at least a way to keep Eppinia from picking on me. He’d been promising me for years I could come live with him when I was older, but I was still stuck here, alone.

One problem at a time.

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Returning home wasn’t much of a relief. Our house, a step up from more accurately being called a shack, was just one room, as far as possible from the village square and pressed right up against the village wall. I kept it neat and tidy, but with so little to clean, it wasn’t that difficult. A bed and wardrobe for Papa took up most of the right side of the small room. A table with four chairs stood only a few steps from the door. To the left of this, a cabinet stored dishes and food, a stand for the bowl and pitcher, and my meager supply of cooking supplies—a pot, two large spoons, and a pair of tongs I’d borrowed from the tavern one time I’d had to work there. Behind this kitchen setup, an ancient rocking chair sagged in front of the fireplace. This was all I needed to take care of, and it was easy enough when I was left to work alone. My own sleeping area, tucked in the corner next to the fireplace behind the rocking chair, held only a battered straw tick, some blankets, and my clothes box, and didn’t need much attention beyond straightening the blankets.

There were chamber pots to empty, dishes to wash, floors to scrub. As I worked, I replayed the scene from the well in my mind, wondering if there was anything I could have done differently. I concluded that there wasn’t. My shoulders grew tense as I worked. It was only a matter of time before my rage led to something more drastic, unless I vented it with smaller bits of revenge.

If my birds had actually hurt any of the kids, I’d be in major trouble. I couldn’t have a scene like that again, as satisfying as it had been in the moment. Best to stick to my usual tricks of petty theft, graffiti, and vandalism, and not encourage the birds to attack again.

At dinner, Papa was in an even worse mood than usual. He returned from his watch shift at the south gate of the village wall and came to the table without acknowledging me or the food I’d put before him. I slid into my seat with my own meal, a succotash that I made often, and eyed him. He’d already started to eat, head down, not looking at me.

I focused on finishing as much of my beans and corn as I could. The explosion would happen at some point, but he would finish eating first. I didn’t want to lose out on my meal if he flipped the table.

Finally, he dropped his fork and leaned back, arms crossed. I waited and took another bite, probably my last, so I made sure it was a big one.

You got any money? he said.

I shook my head. I gave you all my tips from the tavern last time, Papa.

That’s too bad. I got no money for this month’s taxes. Might have you take on work around town for me. Help your father out.

You’re not my father, I wanted to say. But I just nodded, eyes down.

Though, looking at you, I dunno that anyone will hire you. No muscles, see? Can’t be on watch. Can’t carry wood.

I continued to stay silent, letting him work out whatever was going on in his head. My eyes focused on a breadcrumb near the side of his plate.

No, this big a tax bill might mean I need a bigger sale than a weakling’s labor. I might make a deal with the caravan when it comes in a few weeks. That should keep me set for a while! He chuckled, and I looked up into his face. He couldn’t mean what I thought he meant.

Snowport?

The markets there will fetch a much better price than I could get for you here. More rich buyers. I’m sure someone there wants a scrawny little thing like you.

My blood ran cold. But Mama said I’d be taken care of here until I was grown up and could make my own way in the world. She promised me! You can’t just—

Your mama ain’t here, little girl. I do what I want. Now make yourself useful. He pushed himself up and turned to the pantry cupboard. The bottles on the bottom shelves clinked together as he pulled one out.

Hands shaking, I cleared the table. As I cleaned up from dinner, he drank himself into a stupor in front of the fire. My mind was racing. I had to get out of here. He couldn’t sell me to the work markets in Snowport. Work market kids ended up in the mines west of the mountains, stuck working in a dark hole all day. Kids didn’t return from the mines.

Papa was drowsing in his chair when I finished my chores. I pried the bottle from his fingers and pulled him to the bed. I needed him asleep to do what I wanted to do tonight, and the fastest way was to put him to bed like a child. Once he was sitting on the mattress, I knelt and removed his shoes. He swatted a hand in my direction, but I ignored this and helped him swing his legs up and under the covers. I tucked him in and retreated to my corner to wait.

The corner itself looked a bit like a rat’s nest. A few thin blankets and a small clothes press were almost nothing, but they were mine. I curled up beneath my blankets, keeping one carefully spread over the straw tick and the floor. I listened to Papa’s breathing. When he was asleep, I’d know.

I waited until Papa’s snoring was loud enough to convince me he would not be woken up easily. Then I peeled back the bedding from the floor and retrieved the tiny stick of charcoal at the bottom of my clothes press. There were a couple secret items hidden there too, mostly coins and jewelry I’d stored away against my eventual departure from the village, but I didn’t need those right now.

The circle was already partially drawn and burned into the wooden floorboards with intricate lines, curves, and sigils I didn’t know the meanings of, old but not worn even after five years. I drew in the missing marks, completing the small summoning circle. With a cloud of whispered words, the lines blazed black, then red, then disappeared. The circle became transparent. I stared into a dizzying darkness as a hulking form walked up out of it.

I smiled, shoulders relaxing with relief. Hi Bubba.

He was a large Infernal, deep red and nearly seven feet tall when standing, not counting the black horns that stood straight up another foot and a half. He smiled and sat at the edge of the circle. His legs were dangling into the abyss. I couldn’t see his cloven feet, but I knew they were there. He looked scary, but he’d always treated me with kindness and patience.

Bubba had first come to me in a dream when I was seven. One summer night, Papa had come home drunk and told us he’d lost our house and all our money in a bad hand of cards. Mama said it was the last straw, packed her things, and left. She promised me I’d be taken care of one way or another, but she didn’t take me with her, even when I begged. I’d cried myself to sleep that night. I dreamed about a huge black bird flying through the window and drawing a circle on my floor. It added complicated lines and symbols with the stick of charcoal it held in its beak. In my dream, the circle had blazed with flames as tall as I was and circled me like a warm blanket. It didn’t burn me but kept me protected in the center of the circle. I was able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.

When I woke the next morning, I drew what I remembered of the circle on the floor, and Bubba had emerged from the hole that had formed there. I was scared at first, but he gently introduced himself as Hellzebub, Infernal Lord of Wrath. He was the brother of Tiaphima, the Celestial Lady of Diligence my village followed, and had heard I was in need of protection and care. During that first conversation he told me about Sygia, the domain of the Lower Planes that he ruled, and I told him about Papa losing all our money and Mama leaving. He’d agreed that he’d help me while I grew up in exchange for me helping him later, when I was older.

How can I help, my Reylyn?

Eppinia beat me up again today. But the birds attacked her and her gang when I told them to! And Papa lost the tax money. Again. He said he’s going to sell me into the Snowport markets. When can I come live with you in Sygia? When can I get magic? I know you’ve said to be patient here, but can’t I come with you now? It’s awful here. Anywhere would be better than Mox, but staying with Bubba in Sygia would be exciting too.

He laughed and ignored most of what I told him. I had a feeling he already knew. Not yet. You’re far too young and too mortal to serve in my court, or any court for that matter. You have enough protection to get through this place alive. In the meantime, be a shadow here, and give them no reason to look your way. Keep your knowledge to yourself. I’ll come for you soon enough; my sister Tiaphima has been making trouble again.

There’s nothing to do here besides keep myself safe, anyway, I grumbled. What trouble is she making?

He patted my shoulder. Nothing for you to worry about.

I just looked at him, waiting, and he sighed.

"She’s started a campaign to have more followers on the Mortal Plane than I do. So far, it’s just in smaller towns and villages, but she’s started to attract more followers in the big cities too. Some used to be my followers. It won’t be a problem unless she does something with them, and I’ve received no intelligence yet that that is her current goal. But that’s not for you to worry about, Reylyn. Tell me about the birds. You said they responded to your command?"

I stood next to him and leaned my head against his shoulder. The warmth was comforting, especially in the room’s chill.

I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think they’d understand me. They never have before. My voice sounded small and babyish. It horrified me to hear myself sniffle. I would not cry. I never cried.

A dark, muscular arm encircled me. Shh, my Reylyn, he rumbled. It’s all right. They deserved it, I’m sure. And you’ll be out and doing what you want soon enough. Now sleep.

Mmmph, I replied, my protest muffled in his shoulder. Gently, he picked me up and laid me on my blanket next to the circle.

I’ll give you one trick for now. Invisibility. It isn’t true invisibility, but it will keep people from noticing you unless they’re looking for you, or you’re otherwise being loud or harmful. Use it responsibly.

He kissed my forehead. My mind barely registered this astonishing gift before I could feel a tingling warmth shoot through my skin. I started to sit up, alarmed, but then I was floating off into sleep, assisted by Bubba and his magic. My eyes closed. Thank you, Bubba.

My head and side warmed as he covered