A Cry The Gods Heard: The Chronicles of Uncertain Succession, #0

By R.M. Westley

Zaharoway holds the cure that the world needs. Some will stop at nothing to take it.

 

Keyra has devoted her life to healing the sick. When called to the island paradise, she leaves her family behind to help create a cure for the deadly disease.

 

Once transformed, the Gyptheral stone is the world's greatest source of healing. Grind the stone to powder, mix in the herbs, set it ablaze and recite the sacred words. A ritual as old as the ancient gods themselves.

 

But those gods demand that the stone not be used for profit or power. Only those pure of heart may receive it. For centuries, these traditions remained unchallenged.

 

Until now…

 

When Major Advisant Dolmire fails the test and is denied the stone's cure, he sets out to claim the Gyptheral for himself. Leading his army against an unsuspecting Zaharoway is easy, but learning the secrets of the island remains the true challenge.

 

As her own kingdom moves in with deadly intent, Keyra must choose between saving her own people or fighting alongside the island natives.

 

Blood will spill as loyalties are questioned, but can anyone triumph over this battle when the gods get involved?

 

Start your journey through The Chronicles of Uncertain Succession Trilogy with this prequel novella today!

 

*This novella is available at no cost on the authors website

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.M. Westley
• Release date: Nov 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215752043

R.M. Westley

R.M. Westley is an author of adult fantasy novels. Though she has written under different names for different genres, fantasy has always been her one true love. As a child, she would spend her time getting swept away in a great fantasy story that fueled her imagination. From Dragons to elves, court intrigue to epic quests, and everything in between. R.M. has a passion for morally gray characters that blur the lines between what's right and wrong. In her downtime, you will find her hanging out with her pets, playing video games (rather badly but she still enjoys them), binge watching her favorite tv shows, and of course, reading. R.M. loves baking breads and trying recipes she finds on her favorite Youtube cooking channels. She enjoys traveling and exploring new places every chance she gets. ***Psst, R.M. here. Want a FREE ebook? Visit www.rmwestley.com/free-ebook and sign up for my newsletter. Along with your free ebook, you’ll get my latest news and updates, insider exclusives, plus awesome book recommendations and more. It’d be a shame for you to miss out on the excitement.

Book preview

Chapter

One

Children squealed as the courtyard in front of the Lolira Temple filled with people. Keyra watched while descending the temple steps as a self-proclaimed man of magic, dressed in a vibrant yellow and red robe, pushed the crowd further back, away from the fire pit in the center. When there was sufficient space given, the man danced around waving a stick as if it were a wand and the Zaharowites chanted him on.

The man turned toward the blaze and spiritedly threw the stick into the fire. Flames of all colors shot high into the air, crackling, popping, and causing explosions to twirl in the sky. Cheers erupted from every direction as the man took a bow. She smiled, knowing that the man could bring a little joy to a sick and melancholy world. Such activities were not common on the island, but she had seen this trick before.

Keyra did not belong to Zaharoway by birth, but it had chosen her. As a child, she ventured to the legendary Isle of the Gods with her parents. The warm smiles and eager hospitality of the natives made it feel like home. The lush and fertile landscape breathed life into the island. Nestled at the edge of the known world and far from the reach of the mainlands, it became an adventurous place to be discovered, and she couldn't wait to explore the interesting habitats.

At the age of ten, she’d met the Grand Seer, Mohgii, and it was he who caught the sparkle of intuition in her soft, green eyes. One shared moment with the Grand Seer was all it took for her to have received the Lutacerii’s blessing to craft. The Lutacerii, ancient gods who once inhabited the world, had no known names, but their presence on the island was undeniable.

Honored, Keyra knew it was a great privilege to be chosen and from that moment on, Mohgii became her teacher and mentor. She’d returned to Zaharoway every year since to serve the people of the world, doing her part to ensure those who came to the island requesting cures for their ailments left with what they needed.

Keyra oversaw the crowd as they dispersed and went on their way. As the last of the magician’s audience cleared the area, a couple of children ran through. One little girl tripped on a rock in front of her and began to cry. Keyra walked over and knelt down noticing the girl’s knee was scraped.

What’s your name? Keyra asked.

Tavrie.

That’s a lovely name. Do you mind if I look at your knee?

Okay. The little girl sniffled and moved her leg toward her.

That must hurt a lot, Keyra said as she pulled a small jar from her pocket. After opening the container, she rubbed a gyptheral infused salve across the wound. Instantly, the bleeding stopped, and the redness began to fade. There you go. It will stop hurting in a minute.

Thank you, Tavrie replied as she wiped her eyes.

You are very welcome. Keyra smiled as the girl ran off as if she had not been hurt at all.

Taking a seat in the now abandoned courtyard, she drew in a deep breath as her brown hair blew in the wind. The sun beat down and warmed her fair skin, countering the chill of the sea breeze. She closed her eyes and imagined the smiling faces of her four-year-old daughter and the husband she left behind in Meridonia. She missed them but knew that the work she did here was more important now than it had ever been.

Her sacred duty was to craft the stone for the people who visited the Seers and were found to be true of heart. Sometimes she only had to craft enough of the stone for a person or two. As of late, though, she would need to craft enough for hundreds, even thousands of people. Keyra’s hands were often left raw and bloodied at the end of the day but she had crafted a salve for all the other crafters to use enabling their continued work, serving the needs of the world.

The Lutacerii passed down the secret ritual of crafting the blue crystalline stone into its healing properties to the natives, millennia before. For each generation, the Lutacerii chose those worthy of becoming crafters and Seers. The Grand Seer would read the signs of the gods and make it known whom they chose. It was of grave importance to the ancient gods that the stone’s use was pure, not for profit or other gain, and that each person chosen would honor that guiding principle.

Voices interrupted Keyra’s thoughts of home and out of the corner of her eye she noticed two boys, no older than twelve, walking toward the temple. They carried baskets full of herbs and flowers for their use in crafting. One boy, a native she recognized as an elder’s son, dressed in the traditional blue robe that had been dyed using the Mansorati berry. The other, a foreign boy of great wealth, wore the more modern wares of trousers and a shirt, accompanied by a tailored jacket. A few steps behind the children, and always close by, the foreign boy’s guardian followed, a man nearing forty.

The great horn bellowed, alerting the island to an incoming ship, the third of the day, and a stark reminder of why she was there. Sickness had spread like a ravaging fire across the world. Within a week’s time, the sickness would cause a person’s blood to thicken to the point it would stop flowing in their veins. Every country was desperate for gyptheral, a stone only found within Miraki mountain. The stone itself was not enough, it needed to be crafted into its medicinal state.

At this time, twelve crafters inhabited the island, but at thirty-two years of age, Keyra was the youngest and the strongest. Crafters were concealed inside the temple while working, so that no one could observe the process, one so sacred that even the Seers could not watch. The gods marked these traditions in ancient texts, and Zaharowites carried them forward throughout the years. Although traditionally performed in the temple, on rare occasions, a crafter would travel to other lands to perform the ritual. It took many resources to make the ritual happen elsewhere, and Zaharowites were a people of modest means.

Standing and stretching, Keyra took one more look around the island, admiring it for all its beauty. Making her way back to the temple, a small white Rhitoche bird with blue-tipped wings landed on the ground beside her. Dropping a nut on the ground, it used its hard, black beak to break the shell to reveal the treat within. It was a delicate but strong creature only found on the island, and a symbol of what Zaharoway meant to its people.

As she walked the steps up to the temple, the two boys she had seen enter were now coming out. They stopped and bowed to her, and she to them. Reaching the crafting level of the temple, she stopped and looked out at the harbor. Noticing the incoming ship, she recognized her home flag, a gold crown against a background of emerald green, flying off the mast. A stark reminder of what she left behind four months ago.

Chapter

Two

Mohgii wiped the sweat off his sun-kissed brow before sitting to rub his feeble feet, remembering a time when he could climb the temple steps with ease. He was the oldest and wisest of all Seers in Zaharoway. As Grand Seer and elder, he had stepped down from being an active Seer and took to being a teacher to all the living workers of the stone. But now with the great sickness, even he must help deal with the requests from nations far and wide. Awaiting his blessing was a young major advisant from Meridonia, demanding to see him and only him.

What do we know about this major advisant? Mohgii