When Darkness Falls

By Sophia VanderWoude and Sadie Goerge

When a peaceful Phennian Princess learns that the King of the Shadow Realm wants to conquer the world of Absundi and put it under his rule, its fate hangs on her and her seven friends. Will they be able to save Absundi from the wicked King of Shadow, or will they fail, and the world plunge into darkness forever more?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781387602667

Book preview

Author's Note

I would like to take this section to introduce you to my fantasy world. It’s not necessary for reading and understanding the story, but you may find it useful.

The main race of humanoids (when I use this word I mean human-like beings with minor differences) in my world are the Phennians. They are fair to behold, like Elves, and share their characteristic pointed ears. They are not, however, immortal. They do stop aging at eighteen, but their lifespan is only about six hundred years, tops. They also do not have powers, though some can be empaths.

The Narodells are a water-dwelling race of humanoids. They are long-limbed and graceful, have gill-slits in their neck that allow them to breathe underwater, and webbed fingers and toes that assist in swimming. They are also pressure resistant, and have a lifespan of up to four hundred years.

The Imisar are a short and typically stocky race of humanoids, only around four feet in height at their tallest. They are immune to all types of temperature, though prone to internal combustion if you leave them in lava for too long. Lifespan of three hundred fifty years.

The Yelks are by far my shortest race of humanoids, and very human in appearance, except for the fact that they only get to be around a foot tall and typically have darker skin tones to help them blend in with their surroundings. Lifespan of eighty years, though few make it that long in their dangerous habitats.

Humans. These are totally original beings, not. I probably don’t have to do much, if any, describing for them, but I will say the lifestyle of many of the human countries in my world is closer to Victorian than modern, though they do have many modern accommodations. Lifespan of one hundred twenty years.

The Myzians are not exactly humanoid. They’re more…mouseoid? If that wasn’t a word, it is now! They basically look like giant mice (around six feet tall as adults) that stand on their hind legs. They are typically white in color, with long claws and beady eyes. They communicate in a difficult language of clicking and clacking, and are on bad terms with just about every humanoid race of beings on the planet. Lifespan of ninety years.

I think I’ve probably given you enough to go on with for now. Enjoy the book!

Sophia VanderWoude

A New Life

Mama! Don’t let them take me! Papa! Ten-year-old Corinne screamed, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she clutched at her parents’ legs for refuge from the strange couple who loomed nearby.

We must, darling. Aurora Willis, her mother, had told her, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and her voice pained. This lovely couple happens to be your true parents, and we can’t keep you from them. It would be illegal, and wrong besides.

Corinne wasn’t listening. Her dainty hands tightened their frightened grip on her mother’s long skirts, her small knuckles becoming even whiter than they were to begin with. Her waist-length golden hair had come undone and fell in front of her tear-stained face. I don’t want to go! Don’t let them take me! she cried, pleading and sobbing her heart out.

That night was so vivid in the now twelve-year-old girl’s mind as she lay in bed remembering it. A tear made its way down her cheek at the thought of it, and she clutched Aurora Willis’ handkerchief close to her: the last physical memento of her old life with the Humans.

The Willis’ had been informed in a letter concerning Corinne’s true family, and because they hadn’t legally adopted her, only found her on their doorstep as a baby and decided to keep her, they had to let her go.

After the Willis’ had managed to detach her from their legs, they had left Corinne with her new parents. These new parents had sat her down and explained to her carefully who she truly was: Princess Zestaria Persendoral of the Valley Realm, a Phennian who would live longer than the Humans: around six hundred years.

Zestaria. The blonde-haired girl smiled a little. That had been her name for two years now, and only the day before she’d been announced the Crown Princess of the realm. Yet, something inside her nagged, as though it didn’t want to believe her parents were telling the truth. She sighed. It was probably something she’d have to live with for the rest of her long life.

As the events played through her mind once more, she was hit with a sudden thought. Why hadn’t her last parents, the Willis’, tried harder to keep her? After all, she’d been their child a lot longer than she’d been the Persendorals’, as strange as that sounded. There must have been some sort of law or ordinance that would have kept her from being taken away, some sort of process by which she could have been adopted before the meeting, right? And her true parents, the Persendorals, why had it taken them nearly ten years to come and get her if they knew exactly where she was the whole time? It seemed so odd that they would just suddenly realize where she was if she’d just been ‘misplaced’ on the Willis’ doorstep as a baby. Was she not good enough for either family? Had she done something as a baby to make the Persendorals abandon her, only to regret it later when they realized they had no other heir? And the Willis’, had she done something to offend them, to make them wish they hadn’t taken her in to begin with? Was that why they didn’t try to keep her? She couldn’t think of anything she might have done, but then again, she didn’t remember most of her first three years, so… never mind. If neither family wanted her because of something wrong she’d done, did she need to be the perfect child for them to love and care for her? As it was, they ignored her most of the time, unless they were eating a meal together. She decided to try that: to try to be the perfect child. To win her parents’ love.

Her eyes red from crying, Zestaria slipped into a deep sleep.

She was in a small, lamp-lit room. Two faces looked down into hers as she lay in the arms of a strange woman. The woman who was not holding her had blue eyes that shone clearly with the light of life, though her face was aged and wrinkled, and her hair was white as snow. The younger woman who held her close had black hair pulled up off her neck into a messy bun. Her eyes were a deep olive green, almost black, and her robes appeared to be made of shadow.

You did the right thing, Oysania. The older woman was saying, stroking Zestaria’s hair tenderly. The child you hold in your arms now will grow to save the world one day.

My little Keirusha. Oysania cooed, smiling down at Zestaria. Then she looked up at the old woman, fear in her deep, dark eyes. But, Nila, Kyrnar will be so angry!

Nila shook her head. There will be nothing your husband can do about it. Oysania, you will have to trust me. Keirusha will be safe with me. I will find a family to care for her until she is grown enough.

Zestaria tried to speak but found she couldn’t. Frustrated, she contented herself to only listen. She hated it when dreams did that. They were usually the worst kind.

Oysania searched Zestaria’s face, and a curious look came into her eyes. Nila, look at her. See how she watches us! Do you think maybe she understands what we say?

Nila nodded. Aye, that she does, but she will not be able to comprehend it for many a year.

A tear rolled down Oysania’s cheek, and she swiftly handed Zestaria over to Nila. Take her. She whispered. Take her quickly. One more second and I will not be able to give her to you.

Nila nodded; an understanding look on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a new voice.

Princess Zestaria? Zestaria!

Zestaria’s eyes blinked open. Ilyania, her personal servant, was standing beside her bed, shaking her.

She sat up. What is it, Ilyania? she asked groggily, running a sleepy hand through her tangled golden locks.

You slept late, miss. Ilyania replied urgently. Did you forget? Sir Segneb and his wife are to join us for lunch today.

Zestaria sighed and slid out of bed, her bare feet barely making a sound as they made contact with the hard, wooden floor of her quarters. So began another long, protocol-filled, boring day.

Khidell

The months passed quickly since Zestaria’s crowning. She disliked her job. It seemed her parents had no care for her personal pleasure whatsoever. They only seemed to want her as an heir, not as an actual child. She had to attend meetings and luncheons and such, as well as do her normal schoolwork, so there was hardly any free time, ever. Most days, she shrugged these thoughts away. Perhaps it was just the way royalty treated their children. Other days…

Is something the matter, Your Highness? Ilyania asked, coming up behind her one day as she stood at her balcony, looking down at the bustling green city below her.

Zestaria quickly brushed the tears from her emerald eyes. Yes, Ilyania, everything’s fine.

Ilyania shook her head, not to be deterred. No, you are not well, I fear? she prodded.

I am well in body, if not in mind. she replied, giving way to her motherly servant.

What ails you, my princess?

Does my mother love me? Zestaria asked suddenly, turning to Ilyania in frustration.

Ilyania hesitated. Of course, Your Highness. she replied. Queen Shalia and King Illaraeo love you very much.

Then why do they ignore me? the princess’ large green eyes searched Ilyania’s gentle brown ones pleadingly. They treat me as a precious doll, one to be looked upon but not touched or interacted with in any way. I must remain emotionless, as a statue when in the presence of others, and they never seem to have much time to actually talk to me for who I am, if at all.

It’s the way of the nobility, my lady. Ilyania shook her head. Is that all you mourn for? The freedom of your past?

Zestaria shook her head. Why can I not be perfect? she cried. If I was perfect, maybe Mother and Father would love me, care for me, the way a child should be. But I have made a mistake: I smiled today when a Duchess told a story about her children, all now grown. It was funny, and I could have laughed, but even the smile I allowed myself brought my mother’s frowns upon my head. Can I do nothing right?

Your Highness. Ilyania paused to phrase her words properly. You must understand, no one is perfect, we all make mistakes. You cannot win your parents' love by doing nothing wrong. They will either love or detest you, no matter what you do. It’s up to you to interpret their intentions and make the best of it.

Zestaria took the information in, but knew, somehow, that it wouldn’t make her feel better. She nodded, and wiped a fresh set of tears from her eyes. Somehow, she had the weird feeling Ilyania was keeping something from her, but she shrugged this away; the woman had a right to her privacy.

There was silence for a little while, and Zestaria took the opportunity to look down at her city once more, for she found it rather intriguing...having never been down there before to see it up close for herself. It was a beautiful sight. The whole city was one sparkling emerald that rose several hundred feet into the air. The sun shone on it, sending beams of tinted green light every which way. From her position on her balcony, she could look down, all the way to the bottom level of the city, where most of the business happened, and the poorest of the people lived in tiny homes away from the main street. Above that was the residential level, where all of the middle-class citizens lived in large apartments stacked on top of each other. Above that level was the upper-class level, where all of the city’s nobility lived and worked in miniature palaces. Zestaria smiled. The grand homes of the nobility were but mere bits of jewel dust in comparison to the grandeur of the fourth and top level of the city: the main palace.

I have a suggestion for you, to take this latest event off of your weary mind. Ilyania’s gentle voice broke through Zestaria’s thoughts in a way that made her stop to listen to what the older woman had to say.

Your parents have given you leave to go down to the city and wander about. Ilyania continued. You will act and dress as the common people, as that is the only way you will be able to be treated normally. What do you say?"

Zestaria’s mournful eyes shone suddenly with gladness, though a nagging voice inside her told her that Ilyania wasn’t telling the truth. Of course! she laughed, ignoring it and grabbing her servant’s hand, dragging her inside. I will go now. Please help me prepare myself?

Ilyania laughed. With pleasure. Carefully, she plaited the young princess’ hair into a single braid, dressed her in a long brown dress with tight sleeves and brown shoes. As she worked, she talked.

So as to not make it publicly known that you are out and about, your parents have ordered me to tell you to use the back door and the secret side gate that opens right out into the city. she informed Zestaria. Understood?

Zestaria nodded. Perfectly. Her heart pounded at the prospect of it all and a thrill of excitement bubbled up inside of her – she was about to venture into the city for the first time!

There was only a minimal amount of guards outside the back door, and Zestaria departed quickly and snuck out the side gate. She wasn’t sure where she would go, and thought that she might wander about and try to make friends. She made her way into the lowest part of the city, the business and market level, where all of the action seemed to take place. Phennians were everywhere! Their clothing was all different: each to his or her own taste, and in a large assortment of colors. There was a marketplace in the center of the city, and Zestaria wandered through it, examining everything with an awestruck sense of curiosity.

There were booths lining the emerald streets, each vendor selling something different under their emerald green awnings. Behind the rows of booths, she could see all manner of permanent shops in shining green rows along the street. The smells in the air were heavenly, mostly. There was bread baking, meat cooking, fish frying, and Zestaria could even smell the perfumes a Phennian woman down the street was selling. Around her, Zestaria could hear cows lowing, horses whinnying, babies crying, and people talking; their voices blending together into an almost unidentifiable language of its own.

Zestaria smiled, feeling extremely free. Here she was, in the business center of her chief city, and no one recognized her! Everything seemed so perfect, so normal, in comparison to life at the palace. It even brought back memories of running along at Mrs. Willis’ side when she took her to the market occasionally many years back. Tears formed in her eyes at the thought, and she blinked them away. This was her life now. No use crying over things she couldn’t have, or wished had happened differently.

All at once, a wave of anger and fear washed over the young princess, startling her out of her melancholy thoughts. She forced her way out of the crowd and stood on a sidewalk, looking around her in confusion. These foreign feelings were not her own. Almost hidden by a wall nearby sat a boy, no older than her. His eyes were wide with fear, and his face was deathly pale. Zestaria felt much terror in him and ran over to see what was going on. A man loomed over the frightened boy, whose face was turned up to see his oppressor. The angry man’s long dark robes seemed to flow as a great shadow in the midst of the clear, sunny morning, and his pale face contrasted sharply with his black eyes and hair. It was from him that the potent anger came.

How dare you run into me, you little street urchin! The man hissed, waving his arms menacingly.

The boy found his voice somewhere in his fright. I-I did not sir. You ran into me. he protested.

Zestaria focused her thoughts on the boy, not realizing what she was doing even as she tried it. There was no deceit in him. The man, on the other hand, was full of deceit, though she knew not how she knew this.

Liar! the dark man bellowed, his eyes flashing with fury. You ran into me, and shall be punished severely for it. In my realm there are harsh penalties for doing such things.

Fear flooded Zestaria’s own emotions, but she tried to ignore it. This boy needed help, and she was the only one around who seemed to notice. Was this actually normal in the city? She stepped forward, her green eyes flashing with heated anger as she summoned her courage.  Well, then I would hate to live in your kingdom, sir, she retorted. For if all of the inhabitants are like you, then it must be a kingdom of liars and bullies!

What!? the man exclaimed in mock horror. A child, and a girl at that, dares to insult me?

I do not insult you. I speak the truth, Zestaria answered confidently, a defiant sneer barely noticeable in her angry voice. I saw it all: you ran into this boy, not the other way around. If you don’t stop persecuting him this instant, then I shall personally deliver you to a member of the royal family to be dealt with. Do you understand me?

The man laughed. What, and are you a friend of the royal family to have the authority to say such things? he taunted. Besides, judges, though they be royalty, can always be bought. I could make them let me go free and punish this little brat here! he kicked at the boy and jiggled a dark bag by his waist. There was a jingling sound as many coins collided with one another at the disturbance.

How dare you insult me and my parents! Zestaria cried, reaching her boiling point. No one, no one, insulted her family; even if they did seem to ignore her most of the time. She reached into a soft bag she had brought and retrieved her sparkling tiara. Placing it on her head, she stepped even closer to the man, standing on tiptoe to appear taller. As Princess Zestaria Persendoral, I command you to leave this city and never return. You have disturbed the peace, tormented an innocent young man, insulted the royal family, and admitted that you resort to bribery at will. Go now and never return, or I shall set the royal guard on you!

The man stumbled back, shocked. He opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again and stormed off in haughty defiance, clearly realizing his danger and deciding that it was best to avoid confrontation.

Zestaria carefully put her tiara back in her bag, closed it, and looked about her, breathing heavily as she calmed herself down. Thankfully they had been concealed well enough by the protruding wall so that no one seemed to take any notice of them. She turned to the boy and helped him up. As she did so, she felt pity for him: his clothing was poor, as he wore only a shabby brown tunic and pants, tied at the waist with a rough belt. His