Vesper Rowan and the Shadow Dragon

By David J. Wilson

Vesper Rowan will face the shadow dragon, just as her grandfather's magic book foretold. The problem is she knows nothing about her family's secret history or that they are from Noominia—a place of beauty and danger, full of fairies, giants, wizards, elves and kobalins.

When Vesper reads the forbidden magic book, she opens a portal into Noominia and becomes swept up in her own magical adventure—chased by kobalins, and hunted by a shadow dragon.

Can she really be the unicorn in their prophecy? The one who will trade her life to rid Noominia of the shadow dragon?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9780978156428

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The Chase

Vesper Rowan darted through the magical Noominian forest. Close beside her ran Kaija, a young elven wizard she had only known for a single day, yet to whom she owed her life. They followed in the wake of a golden bumblebee which cast behind it a magical light. The bee’s mission was to lead them to the fairy circle—a hidden circle of trees which protected the home of the fairy queen—called the forever tree. The forest was lush with shades of green and blue. Many of the trees were in blossom and their fragrance was ripe with sweetness. Flowers the size of Vesper bloomed in clearings open to the sun, many of them glowing and changing colours each moment—the forest was alive and breathing.

The bumblebee flew ahead, the girls behind it. They trampled beautiful flowers and ignored magnificent trees as they ran headlong through the forest. Vesper and Kaija flew behind the bee, at the edge of life and death because close behind them, chasing them—hunting them—was a horde of blood-thirsty kobalins. The kobalins were born from shadow magic in Night Mountain to the north. They should never have been in this forest chasing Vesper. Yet they pursued her, weapons in hand, hunting the unicorn princess—and ready to kill.

Kaija, I can’t run anymore! I’ve got to stop and catch my breath, Vesper called out, her chest heaving.

Keep running or we’ll be torn to pieces! Kaija said.

How far is the fairy circle? Vesper asked.

Not sure. Just keep running. Stay in the bee’s lighted path and its magic will double our speed, replied Kaija as she ran.

The wings of the bumblebee carved looping trails through the air, around the trunks of trees, and under thorny bushes. The kobalins, each holding a jagged blade, clamoured forward. A spell of shadow magic cast by a dark wizard, quickened the kobalins’ hunt. Some came so close they salivated with anticipation.

They see my horn, said Vesper, worried that the unicorn horn on her forehead was glowing. She was just a girl, but to the kobalins she was dangerous—a unicorn, a bringer of light sent to kill the shadow dragon and the creatures of Night Mountain. The kobalins were commanded to catch her—they dreamed of tearing her to pieces and feeding her to the shadow dragon. They were promised by the kobalin king that riches awaited them, that they would be promoted to knights. Each one dreamed of becoming a lord of Noominia.

Don’t worry that your horn’s glowing! They can see the golden bee, too, Kaija said.

Vesper called out in pain, Ah—that bush scratched me! Those thorns are huge! Vesper looked at the gash on her shin just below her knee, which dripped with red blood.

It’ll be fine—that’s nothing compared to a kobalin blade, Kaija said. Right now, we need to run for our lives. We can’t worry about a scratch or two.

You’re right, said Vesper. She pulled her cloak tighter and focussed on her footing as she ran through a patch of soft moss.

The chase continued—a unicorn and a wizard running for their lives away from the vile shadow creatures.

But we should start at the beginning.

Vesper was a human girl, or so she thought. She was born and lived in the human realm, in an ordinary town by the sea. Not long before being chased by kobalins, she had never set foot in Noominia. Vesper didn’t even believe fairies were real. Little did she know, her parents and grandfather weren’t originally from the human realm.

Called by her destiny, Vesper’s story began with a prophecy.

As shadow magic strangled Noominia, the light of the realm flickered desperately. An army of kobalins led by their king, Mordred, grew in strength and viciousness. They marched from Night Mountain through the villages of fairy folk, leaving destruction in their wake. Mordred knew the prophecy—that a unicorn would come to banish shadow magic, and that it would face the shadow dragon. And so, Mordred and the kobalins set out to wake the shadow dragon before its time, to take the unicorn by surprise. When the dragon rose from the depths of Night Mountain, it wanted only one thing—to hunt all creatures of light in Noominia and destroy them. Mordred schemed to undermine the fairy queen, destroy her lineage, and rule over all Noominia as its king.

The kobalin king, with his newfound power, led a secret group of shadow wizards—the Umbloods—to infiltrate the Silence Keepers. The Silence Keepers were an ancient guild of wizards who vowed to protect the light of the Noominian fairies. With the fairy queen in hiding, the shadow dragon loose, and the Silence Keepers weakened, only the soldiers of the elven Guard and the noc owls protected Noominia from the dark intruders. They struggled to resist the increasing onslaught of kobalin raids, hoping a mighty unicorn would soon join them in their fight. They knew only a unicorn could stop the shadow dragon, extinguish the flames of shadow magic lit by the kobalin king, and overthrow the Umbloods. Only a unicorn could return power to the fairy queen, and save Noominia.

CHAPTER ONE

The Whispering Book

If you compel a unicorn to duty when not ready, it will bemoan the vow, likely quit in a tizzy, and leave a great boxed jewel hidden forever.

Vesper Rowan didn’t know her grandfather’s book was magical, nor that her name was written in its pages—she only knew she had to read it. The Noominian Codex sat closed on her bed, and just as she might open it, she hesitated. She got the feeling the book was telling her something. A shiver danced along her spine. A breeze tickled the back of her neck. Vesper’s bedroom was lit by a string of LED lights that glowed a soft white. The powdery gold lettering on the cover of the magic book twinkled, as though it was calling to her. The rough edges of the leather cover were well worn, and Vesper noticed one of the leather ties was gone—a casualty of age. Her fingers explored its intricate design.

Vesper’s grandfather, Arthur Rowan, was very particular about his books. If Arthur found out she’d taken The Noominian Codex, she knew she’d be grounded. But, being twelve, her curiosity was stronger than the threat of consequences. Vesper remembered seeing the book when she was very young—either up on Arthur’s desk, closed and wrapped in a leather string, or in his hands as he read in complete rapture. Once, when she was seven, she was caught trying to open the leather ties. It wasn’t Arthur’s words that she remembered, but the tone of them—sharp and loud—and how the vein in his forehead popped out as he whisked the book away, muttering to himself.

Vesper’s conscience ached—her grandfather had been nothing but kind to her since her mother disappeared two years ago. Vesper’s mother, Aina, had loved the freedom of sailing. One day, after her regular solo outing, her boat was found empty yet intact. The police said there was no sign of a struggle—and assumed Aina had drowned in a sudden storm. For many weeks after the accident, Vesper held out hope that her mother was still alive, even though her case was closed just a few days after she had gone missing. Through tears, Vesper felt compelled to open the cover, and she began reading the forbidden book:

THE NOOMINIAN CODEX

I.

In the First Age,

When fairies roamed,

Dauntless the unicorn

Called Noominia his home.

Dauntless shone brightly,

His light was like a fountain,

But a shadow grew mightily

Deep under the mountain.

What? A unicorn book? Why would grandfather be obsessed with a unicorn book? Vesper wondered to herself. Vesper loved stories about unicorns, but Sadie and her other friends thought of unicorns as make-believe. To Vesper, unicorns weren’t fantasy—it seemed to her they just didn’t want to be found. And in their stories, she sought the key that would unlock their mystery. Vesper also loved to draw and paint, and found it was easy to get inspired by unicorns and other magical creatures. Making up her own animals was one of her favourite endeavours—she didn’t hesitate to put antlers or wings on any creature she drew, just to see if she liked how it looked. Vesper’s green eyes—just the same as her mother’s—devoured the magic book as though the ink might crumble off the paper.

She continued reading:

In the darkest cave,

The shadow dragon grew,

Where no traveller could brave

Nor wizard make true.

On the day that is night

Its dark magic churned,

The dragon broke free

and escaped the caverns.

The lizard climbed high,

Spread its wings and flew yonder,

To find what had woken it

From its shadow slumber.

The shadow dragon hunted

Across the entire world,

To devour the light of Dauntless

and return to its dark curl.

The two great forces clashed,

One of light, and one of darkness…

Vesper! It’s eight o’clock. Time to come down and get ready for school, Arthur called from downstairs.

I’m coming! Vesper called back.

Vesper’s grandfather leaned on the newel post at the bottom of the spiral stairs which led to the second floor, and the bannister creaked as though the old house wanted to start up a conversation. Vesper listened for a moment as Arthur walked back to the kitchen. She sat cross-legged on her large, comfortable bed with the forbidden magic book open in front of her, her wavy, dark brown hair dangling onto the pages like vines. Her untamed hair was a feature she got from her father’s side, although she had never met her father, except through the stories her mother had told of his many adventures as a soldier. Her mother said his name was Silas Meridian, that he had died with honour, fighting for truth and freedom. He was one of the good guys, she’d say, always risking himself to defend others—which was how he died. Arthur was her only remaining relative.

Arthur Rowan had lived at number fifty-four Circle Grove his entire life, amongst the familiar sounds and smells of the oak floorboards, the wall panels, and the bannisters. He often joked the wooden floorboards were chatting him up, their creaky voices complaining with each step. One of Vesper’s favourite things about the house was that it brimmed with a lifetime’s worth of her grandfather’s interesting and strange contraptions. Each room was a treasure chest. The shelves housed watches and compasses, metal and glass sculptures, crystals, stones of all colours, mirrors, prisms and lenses. Framed on the walls hung strange drawings, antique hand-drawn maps, a feather collection, and clocks purposefully set at different times.

The library contained the jewels of Arthur’s possessions—books. His former job as an antique book dealer gave him access to many strange writings. And in his home library, Arthur had amassed a rare collection indeed. In some of the books, magic spells and ancient secrets were recorded. But one of them was itself magical—The Noominian Codex—the book now open in front of Vesper.

Most unusually, Vesper had found the book on the table in the hall outside her bedroom earlier this morning. Her grandfather had never left it out before. The special book was now in her room, free from its usual cage and under her inquisitive eye. There sat Vesper, safe within her bedroom, the door closed and locked, eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning.

Vesper’s room was usually a mess. She stacked books and placed rows of crystals and tumbled stones on her shelves, and cluttered up her desk. Almost everywhere you looked, there were paper and pencils used for sketching. Paint bottles and brushes sat spilled across her easel. Mounds of clothes grew by the day, organised by colour, then by cleanliness.

With time running short before school, Vesper flipped through the first few pages. Each page turned with a whisper. As the paper of one page moved across the other, Vesper unlocked a hidden magic she did not yet understand. Vesper grabbed the pages she hadn’t seen yet and thumbed through them. There wasn’t enough time to read this morning, yet she caught glimpses of drawings, shapes, and unusual symbols.

From the last few pages of the book, a folded piece of paper dropped onto Vesper’s blanket. The whispers stopped. For a moment, she froze, her eyes fixed on the outside of the letter.

Vesper Rowan, 8:03 a.m. Wednesday, Bedroom, Second Floor, 54 Circle Grove.

Vesper glanced at her clock—8:02 changed to 8:03 in front of her eyes. Whoever sent the letter, they addressed it to this exact place and time. Unfolding the paper, she caught sight of her name again at the top:

Dear Vesper,

I know you think your mother is dead, but she is alive, and I know where she is. She needs your help, and only you can help her! You must meet me, Thursday night, after the masquerade ball. If you come, I will show you.

Yours truly,

A Friend

My mother is alive? Sorrow gripped Vesper’s throat with the bitter longing for her mother. The letter was a cruel joke, some hideous prank to reignite her false hope—to tempt her with the thought that her mother was still alive.

Maybe that bully Etta had left it, she thought. She’s cruel enough. But how could she break into the house undetected? And get her hands on grandfather’s book?

Vesper couldn’t make sense of it. She didn’t dare let herself believe anymore that her mother was alive. It took her a long time to accept that she was gone, and now this letter asked her to question her disappearance again. To question if she was really dead. In her worst moments, Vesper had stared into a great chasm of sadness—like a hole, deep and vast with no bottom, only pitch black nothing. It was a place within her she dared not go again. If she experienced her mother’s death a second time, she’d fall back into the bottomless pit, left to tumble forever into the darkness.

The letter was a hoax, she concluded, as she folded it back up and pocketed it.

Vesper closed the cover with a whoosh and hid the magic book under her pillow. It was time for school and Grandfather was waiting for her downstairs.

Vesper descended the creaky stairs, sliding her feet slowly off the nosing of each step and landing hard onto the next with her heels. Her mind was elsewhere. She slithered down until she arrived at the bottom of the staircase and back into the present.

This week feels like forever! Is it only Wednesday? Vesper complained to her grandfather.

Arthur checked his watch. What is it now? Yes, Wednesday, April eighth-that’s right. At least you’ve got Friday off this week, and tomorrow night there’s the masquerade dance at school, right?

Right… I don’t think I wanna go.

It’s fine if you want to stay home, but it’d be nice to go out with your friends. Isn’t Sadie going? Call her, go, have fun, Arthur said.

I’ll think about it.

Well, you have your dress already, remember?

Yes, I remember.

I’ll make sure it’s ready for you, if you decide to go.

Okay. Thanks, Grandpa. Love you.

Vesper grabbed a banana and yoghurt for breakfast and headed out the front door to snail the five blocks to her school.

Arthur closed the door behind her. You know what else tomorrow is, Arthur? he said to himself as he peered out the window. "It’s unicorn day, and one day soon she needs to learn all about it, and Noominia." Arthur sighed and returned to the kitchen.

CHAPTER TWO

The Unicorn Mask

Every joker presents a mask to others, some to display stripes or spots, like zebras blending in a herd, or a fox camouflaged against the quiet forest.

Mid-afternoon, taking the long way home from school, Vesper stopped outside the new mask shop called Zonder’s Mask Shop. She stared at the display of colourful masquerade masks in the window. Just inside, like gems in a glass box, sat so many shiny possibilities waiting for her to reach out and take one. The spring air stung her fingers—she shivered and pushed her fists deeper inside the knitted pockets of her sweater and felt the mysterious letter, like sandpaper across her knuckles. She pulled it out and opened it—

I know you think your mother is dead, but she is alive, and I know where she is.

Vesper sighed. The masquerade was tomorrow and she was nervous about going—she didn’t have a mask, and now she had some mystery person wanting to meet afterwards. Someone wanted her to believe her mother was alive. Who could’ve placed the letter into her grandfather’s book? It certainly wasn’t her grandfather, which made the letter even more mysterious.

Vesper loved art, and she might’ve crafted her own mask with ease. But, without time or inspiration, she just stood frozen, staring into the shop window. On the window, a fog bloomed from her breath as she rested her forehead on the glass. She noticed the outline of her reflection and her jets of hair that framed her face. Today, Vesper’s hair looked like tree branches that reached in every direction, with sprigs stretching up toward the sun. When she stood tall, unburdened by a backpack, she was still an inch shorter than her best friend, Sadie Green.

Sadie was tall with very light blonde hair. Because of her outgoing personality, Sadie got lots of attention at school, but that didn’t bother Vesper. In fact, Vesper was comfortable playing the role of Sadie’s best friend. Vesper thought of herself as an artist, and, although she sometimes resented Sadie’s preoccupation with looks, she just as often appreciated her fashion advice. The friends complemented each other well, as best friends often do. As she adjusted her backpack over her baggy knit sweater and embroidered jeans, she smiled as she imagined what Sadie would say about her sloppy style.

Her gut was stabbed and raw, and her eyes flooded with tears. The masks in the shop window blurred into a kaleidoscope of shifting colours. She blinked hard and wiped her cheeks. Vesper’s mother had always gone shopping with her to