Birth of Resistance: The Holy War of Tiburonda, #2

By S. A. Campbell

Myndri has left everything she knew and believed behind to begin a treacherous quest on behalf of her newfound god, Yavo. She must find the Soulcrest to free the rightful queen of Tiburonda and bring peace back to her homeland or everything she loves will be destroyed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. A. Campbell
• Release date: Sep 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215942352

S. A. Campbell

S. A. Campbell was born and raised throughout Idaho and Western Washington. He enjoys sports, the outdoors, movies, games, and spending time with family. After earning a bachelor’s degree in Business Management from Western Governors University, he decided to embark on the journey of writing a book, with Pilgrimage of Blessings being the first. The author has two children and currently resides in Southern Idaho. Questions or Comments? Add me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SACampbooks

Book preview

Prologue

STORM WAS AWAKENED from her slumber by a soft pecking noise on her window. From her bed, she could see the sun had set. The sky was black, only light from the two moons and the stars could be seen. Again, the pecking noise entered her ears.

The teenage archer crawled out of bed and staggered to the window, still half asleep. She noticed a small, white dove perched on the outer sill. The bird stared at her. Storm carefully unlocked the window and opened it. A gush of cool air rushed into the bedroom. The dove jerked its head away, then stared back at the girl. Unsure what to do, Storm stood there, watching. Again, the bird jerked its head. Storm remained still.

Plopping down to the grass below, the bird walked a few steps away, then turned back to Storm. Realizing that the bird wanted her to follow it, the girl put on her armor, strapped on her weapons, then donned her hooded cloak. She silently crawled out of the window. Once Storm was safely outside, the dove flew ahead about twenty feet, then stopped. The girl followed it. This continued for about a mile until the bird perched itself atop a stone fence, next to a large sign. Storm scanned her surroundings, then read the signage next to the bird: Redruk Cemetery.

Suddenly, the bird dropped to the ground and transformed into a being Storm instantly recognized. Tyron! exclaimed the archer. The specter nodded, then pointed to a large mausoleum deep in the cemetery. Immediately, the monument began to glow a placid green. You want me to go in there? questioned Storm. Tyron’s spirit nodded again.

Storm crept silently to the tomb. She jiggled the entrance door; it was unlocked. The girl opened the large, stone door to the crypt and cautiously entered. A smell of mildew and long settled dust assaulted her nostrils.

The specter led the girl through the crypt and down some stairs to a long corridor. Storm traversed the passageway to an old, rotting wooden door. The door was half off its hinges, ready to fall to the ground. The girl pulled on the door; it creaked and squealed. Crossing over the threshold into a large, square tomb, Storm noticed a whirring green light shimmering at the far wall. Passing a number of stone coffins, the girl advanced. The light spread as she neared. When Storm arrived, it was six feet high and three feet wide.

The archer glanced at her escort. Tyron was making thrusting gestures. You want me to unsheathe my dagger?

A nod.

Storm reached for her lightning bolt shaped kreeplur dagger hidden in her right boot. The specter shook its head. The archer grabbed the hilt of the blood dagger resting under her left armpit then looked at the spirit questioningly.

Another nod.

The archer removed the blood dagger from its sheath. The blade radiated with deep, crimson pulses. Red light filled the crypt. Tyron’s spirit pointed to the throbbing green light in the wall, then drifted into it.

Storm cautiously approached the oval of pulsing, green light that had materialized in the wall of the subterranean crypt; she held the crimson blood dagger firmly in her hand. Following the spirit of her recently deceased friend, Tyron, the young girl stepped into the portal and was instantly raptured to a small, dark cave. Amber light danced across the walls of the grotto from the flickering flames of a few small candles. Hovering above a being slumped across a wooden desk, the specter mimed a thrusting motion with his hand, instructing the young girl to stab the sleeping being with the blood dagger.

The archer took a few cautious steps toward the sleeping being. It didn’t stir. Another two steps; still no movement. Three more steps and Storm was within an arm’s length from the being. Suddenly, the slumbering creature stood and turned toward Storm.

Reflectively, Storm took a step back. For a brief moment, she stared at a cloaked skeleton with glowing black eyes, and long, chestnut hair, then thrust the dagger into the monster’s chest. The weapon exploded with deep, crimson light. Shards of diamond from the blade shattered into thousands of glittering pieces. The hilt dropped to the stone and dirt floor of the small cavern. Slowly, internal organs began to form within the skeleton’s ribs, followed by veins and vessels. Blood began to flow from a beating heart. Muscles and tendons developed atop the white bones, then layers of flesh. Storm stared at the beautiful woman standing before her. Tears trickled down the young girl’s face.

Mommy? Storm cried out.

What... How... You are the girl from my dreams, stuttered the woman. Who... Who are you?

Mommy, it’s me, Storm... or Breeze, your daughter.

The woman convulsed into uncontrollable sobs. B-Breeze? But... How? How did you find me? How did you get here?

I followed the spirit of my deceased friend, Tyron, through some sort of portal and it brought me here, to you.

The woman enveloped her daughter in a tight embrace. My dear Breeze, my baby. I... I can’t believe you are here. I thought I would never see you again.

Where... Where are we? asked Storm. What happened to you, Mommy?

Norahs released her hold on her daughter. We are in a secluded cave within the worldly prison of the Taylon Forest. When you were only five months old, our hometown of Preth was attacked by King Zidon.

But I was told it was attacked by Ytirahc soldiers, interrupted Storm. Why would King Zidon attack Tiburonda? Why would he attack his own people?

To capture me, replied Norahs. I carried a special pendant, which he believed gave me extraordinary powers. He attacked our town and killed everyone, including your father. I escaped but was tracked down by two soldiers. Just before they captured me a storm blew in and the soldiers were struck by lightning. I do not know how; it was a miracle.

I think I know how, informed Storm. I think I summoned the storm, even though I was just an infant.

You? But how?

I have the ability to control lightning. Storm reached beneath her cloak and pulled out a pendant dangling around her neck. Using this pendant, your pendant, I can summon storms. I did it, on accident, only a week or two ago, killing a dozen or so men attacking me and the party I had been traveling with. Speaking of storms, my name is no longer Breeze. Because of my newfound powers, I changed my name to Storm. Is that okay, Mommy?

If what you say is true, answered Norahs, then Storm is a very fitting name for you. I like it.

Thank you. So, what happened after the two soldiers died? questioned the daughter. Enahs, the airaekin who found me and has raised me the past fourteen years, says there was no sign of you. He found me with your pendant and a note from you but searched for months and could find no sign of you. What happened to you? How did you get here? How did you become a walking skeleton-which was super creepy, by the way.

Slow down, slow down, interjected Norahs. "I will answer all your questions, I promise, but I can’t do it all at once. Let me get back to my story and if you still have questions when I am finished you can ask them then.

"Anyway, after the soldiers were burned to a crisp, I knew you and I were in danger. I was severely wounded and could not carry you, but did not want to stay where I was, waiting for King Zidon to send others after me. To protect you, I hid you in a small cove, praying the captors would follow my trail of blood and leave you alone and that someone good, and kind, would find you and care for you.

I backtracked through the canyon and wandered north through the forest toward Camin, hoping to lead any trackers away from you. After a few days, I could no longer walk. I was so weak from my wounds and loss of blood. I found a small cave and collapsed inside it, waiting to die. A few days later, an old, evil seer found me and took me back to King Zidon. However, once he realized I did not have the pendant, or any power, he ordered the witch, Nybora, to turn me into a necromancer and sent me here to the Taylon Forest.

What’s a necromancer? inquired Storm.

Necromancers are beings with the ability to use dark magic. One such example is reanimating the dead, the mother answered. For the past few weeks, under the guise of Ytirahc soldiers, King Zidon and Nybora have been attacking cities all across Tiburonda. He kills his own people and raises them from the dead. He plans to create a large army of undead soldiers, then conquer the world. The undead cannot be destroyed. King Zidon believes he will become a god over his followers of immortal soldiers.

Wait, so Tiburonda was not attacked by Ytirahc? We aren’t actually at war?

We are definitely at war, but you are correct, we are not at war against the nation of Ytirahc. We are actually at war with our own leader, King Zidon, and the vile witch, Nybora. For years, I have been researching a way to defeat Nybora, but so far have been unable to uncover a way. They must be stopped, or we are all doomed to an eternal undead life.

For the first time since Storm arrived, Norahs realized she was no longer a walking skeleton. She paused, gathering her thoughts, looking at the flesh of her hands and arms. Storm, how did you bring me back to normal? Whatever you did to me is the key to winning this war. We can do what you did to the rest of the undead soldiers. We can reanimate Nybora and King Zidon and finish this war once and for all.

I don’t think that will be possible, replied Storm.

Why not?

Because I used that, answered Storm, pointing at the glittery, red shards of diamond on the cave floor. The blood dagger brought you back but exploded as soon as I stabbed you with it. I don’t have another, or even know if others exist.

The blood dagger? How did you get ahold of the blood dagger? It belonged to your father, but he sold it to the fighters guild in Sima.

Suddenly, Storm’s attention was drawn from the conversation with her mother. The spirit of Tyron was waving its arms, pointing at the green portal at the back of the cave. We will have to discuss this later, Storm responded. Tyron is saying it’s time for me to go. Will you come with me Mommy?

Of course! I lost you once, but never again. Norahs gathered up the book she had been studying, donned her black, hooded cloak, grabbed her scepter, and blew out the lambent candles. However, the cave was still filled with a bright, white light. That’s odd, mumbled Norahs as she followed Storm to the portal.

What is? asked Storm.

Usually, my scepter glows a deep amber color, but now it is white. I wonder what it means, Norahs informed her daughter.

Storm grabbed her mother’s hand. We’ll have to figure it out later, she replied as they stepped into the portal and were transported back to the underground crypt from which Storm came.

Chapter 1

QUEST LOG ENTRY #1

My name is Myndri, and up until yesterday, my entire life had been devoted to becoming a Ml’vado prophetess. For all of my eighteen years alive on this planet, I have trained and studied the teachings of the High God, Ml’vado, and lesser gods of Ml’vadoism: Zaka, Vra’al, Amu, and Dexoho.

About a month ago, I began a pilgrimage to visit the five shrines of the Ml’vado deities where I paid homage to the gods. At the shrines, I was tested both in knowledge and skill. Upon passing the tests, I received blessings and powers from the gods of Ml’vadoism, or so I thought. Yesterday, all of my studies, my training, my skill, and knowledge in Ml’vadoism was proven false.

While at the shrine of the fira god, Amu, in Latatri, I received a life altering visit from the true Most High God, Yavo. I suppose it wasn’t an actual visit, at least not physically. Yavo spoke to me mentally. He taught me the truth about the scam of Ml’vadoism. Yavo informed me of the launching of a holy war by King Zidon on his own nation, Tiburonda. I instantly became a disciple of Yavonity.

Lord Yavo sent me on a journey to a cave east of the wonderful tree city of Latatri where I met the most breathtakingly beautiful angel I have ever seen. Celeste isn’t really an angel, but she definitely looked and acted like one. Celeste, or maybe I should call her Princess Celeste because she is the rightful heir to the throne of Tiburonda, not the sneaky, bile, younger brother, King Zidon, instructed me on an evil plot of said king. She told me how Zidon had kidnapped her and banished her to the cave. Using a powerful magic, he has kept Princess Celeste locked up in the cave. He told the citizens of Tiburonda that she was killed in a terrible accident. Then, after a brief period of mourning, Zidon had his father murdered and took over the throne.

I was then enlightened on the evil scheme of Zidon (I refuse to call him king now) to conquer the world and become a god. Using the powers of a wicked witch, Nybora, Zidon is murdering his own people in a fictional war. He dressed up his own soldiers in uniforms of the army of the country south of Tiburonda, Ytirahc, and attacked his own cities. Then, he had Nybora raise the dead, creating an army of immortal undead soldiers. With this new army of walking skeletons, Zidon plans to take over the world, and eventually becoming undead himself, rule as a god for eternity. The world’s only hope lies on the clumsy, untrained skills of a naive, eighteen-year-old girl... me. I have been given the task, by Yavo, to defeat Zidon and his Legion of Death, and worse, I must travel alone, for now. But first, Princess Celeste has sent me on a quest to a remote island off the shores of the Shattered Canyons in the southwest corner of Tiburonda. I am to find a powerful relic, the Soulcrest, to free Princess Celeste from her prison.

I set out for the Soulcrest last night but have no idea how to get to the Shattered Canyons. I have never left Nazar, the capital city of Tiburonda, until my pilgrimage and this is the first time I have ever been alone. Celeste instructed me to journey west to the Notyert Mountains where I will meet a guide.

I stopped in Latatri to purchase a traveling robe and supplies. I also rested there for the night. This morning, I departed Latatri and am now at the base of some very tall peaks, which I assume are the Notyert Mountains. I will wait here in hopes that my guide will find me since I do not know who, or what, I am looking for. All I know is that I am not to be afraid of his appearance, which only terrifies me more.

I miss my friends and former companions very much. I miss Nayr, the lyzraeda and my guide during my pilgrimage. I also miss Asilem, the firae, and Nixon, the porcufomi, even though I have only known each of them a very short amount of time. Most of all, I miss Storm, the young archer and my dearest friend and self-adopted sister. Unfortunately, I was told I must travel alone, for now, but I am encouraged by the promise that I will see them again. That promise will help me endure this difficult task I have been appointed. Since I am all alone, with nothing else to do but wait for my new guide, I decided to start this diary of my quest to help pass the time. Assuming I survive the first night on my own, I will write another entry tomorrow, and periodically throughout my journey. Wish me luck. (Good luck, Myndri, hehe).

Chapter 2

PROWLING THROUGH THE thick underbrush of the dense forest, a four-legged beast with jet-black fur blended into the dark night. The faint glow of the two moons and stars in the cloudless sky were unable to penetrate the thick canopy of trees above. Leaves and tall grass quivered from the gentle breeze, concealing the stealthy movements of the hunting animal. Detecting the unusual scent a mile or so back, the animal continued to track his prey. The aroma got stronger as the beast moved forward.

The smell led the hunter down a small hill into a narrow ravine. A thin, shallow creek flowed through the gully. The creature paused momentarily to drink from the cold, refreshing water, then followed it west toward the cliffs of the Notyert Mountains. Upon reaching the base of the towering peaks, the animal turned south, edging the jagged, rocky terrain. A new odor of burning tree sap and smoke entered the hunter’s nostrils. A dim, orange light flickered between the swaying boughs of the forest about a half mile ahead of him.

Continuing his advance on the hypnotic scent, the animal neared the fringe of a small, open meadow; soft humming could be heard dancing across the rhythmic wind. The hunter halted, mesmerized by the angelic sound of the female voice. With great stealth, he prostrated himself to the ground. Outstretched on his belly, the beast slowly crept under a large berry bush; the meadow opened up to his eyes.

The beast saw a beautiful young woman cowled in a pure white robe sitting on a tree stump next to a smoldering fire—more smoke than actual flames were emitted from the burning twigs. Strands of long, black hair escaped the hood of the woman’s robe. The woman continued to hum as she attempted to cook a measly dinner.

Obscured by the shrubbery, the beast contemplated its next move. The melodic song of the young woman soothed his emotions. His eyes grew heavy, muscles relaxed. He felt as if he had been given a powerful tranquilizer. Not quite ready to expose his presence, the black hunter rested his head on his front paws and watched the young woman eat her meal.

An hour later the black beast woke from its hypnotic slumber. The young woman was still awake. She had moved her stump to the other side of the slowly dying fire, her back to the animal. She appeared to be writing. The feline continued to watch from the cover of the large berry bush.

After a few minutes had passed, the pretty teenager with silky black hair and contrasting alabaster skin set aside the parchment she was writing on. She began chuckling quietly to herself, a sly grin on her face. She carried a leather pack. The girl placed the pack in her lap and started to put the parchment and writing utensils inside it. This was the moment the beast was waiting for. The light from the fire was dim and did not reach to where he was hiding, and the girl was distracted. Silently, he crawled out from beneath the dark green, leafy shrubbery. With great stealth, the hunter approached to within a couple feet of the young woman; she had not heard him coming.

The beast crouched back on its two hind legs, ready to pounce. He opened his jaws wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Saliva dripped from his yellowed canines. Suddenly, he let out an erratic sound—not a roar or even a growl, but more like a loud, throaty purr.

Startled by the sound, the girl quickly stood, dropping her pack, and turned to face the beast. She froze in fear of the large, midnight monster. Her hands dropped straight down, palms facing the beast. She tried to stay calm but could feel the rapid beats of her heart pummeling against her chest.

The hunter took one step toward its prey. The girl tried to step back but couldn’t; her legs were temporarily paralyzed. Even if she could move, she would have stepped directly into her campfire. She was trapped.

Methodically, the black beast took another step toward the petrified girl, and then another.

Sweat covered the girl’s palms. She closed her eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with the monster. All of a sudden, she felt something dry and rough against her hands. She peaked one eye open to see the long, pink tongue of the beast licking the salty perspiration from her clammy right hand. The girl gasped and instinctively yanked her hand away from the monster.

Do not be afraid. I will not harm you, said the beast. The girl was utterly confused. I must be dreaming, she thought. You... you can talk? she asked.

Of course, I can talk, came the reply.

Am I dreaming? petitioned the girl.

The animal tilted its head slightly to his left. I don’t think so, unless we are both having the same dream.

Who... What are you? inquired the girl.

My name is Nedak and currently I am in my jaguar form. Have you never seen a jaguar before?

Actually, no. The girl paused for a moment. Even though I have never seen one, I do know that jaguars cannot talk.

No? Are you sure? asked the jaguar.

I am quite certain.

Nedak took a few steps away from the girl and began to morph. His legs grew longer, his tail shorter, his body bigger. His fur turned from charcoal black to light brown. Large, pointy antlers appeared