Words: A Tale of Espar

By D. Lambert

Finding the power to survive means finding the magic in time...

 

Kaylin was an apprentice to the wrong master, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and framed for murder. To escape, he will seek out the magic spiral, the light in the darkness, and harness the powers it contains, but only if he can control the Spell Burn it brings. This novelette in the World of Espar fills in the mystery behind some of Espar's greatest heros, showing the child they were before their world was turned upsidedown.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. Lambert
• Release date: Jan 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215228241

D. Lambert

At a young age, Deborah's rampant imagination kept her up, lending great detail to all the terrible things lurking in the night. In desperation one night, her mother suggested she invent her own stories to distract her brain. She has been doing that since, channelling her ideas into mainly sword and sorcery-style fantasy novels and shorts.        In her other life, Deborah is a veterinarian. She lives in Sooke, BC, Canada,  with her husband of 10+ years,  their son, and three demanding felines.​

Book preview

Words

By D. Lambert

Kaylin pushed the pain out of his mind and hurried to his bed by the window. The tiny table beside it sufficed as a desk, and the other apprentices were used to him sitting there, copying texts. So long as he did not move stiffly, he could conceal his wounds until someone came up from Master Sylas’ study. Kaylin could copy a dozen pages or more before that happened. He memorized Everand’s SpellBook as he worked, using the words to distract him from the lashings burning on his back. 

After a candle of time and fourteen pages, two smirking older apprentices came into the dormitory and, spotting him, sauntered over. Heard you were caught in the master’s study, the bigger boy, Bensan, said. He had the build of an ape, down to the sloping forehead and barrel chest, and was known for never doing his own copy work, lacking dexterity in his enormous fists. His friend, a weasel-like boy with narrow, beady eyes called Nasson, snickered. Caught and whipped, Nasson added. Leaning in, the thin boy punched Kaylin on his right shoulder. Seeing no response, he quickly hit the opposite side, shooting pain through Kaylin’s back and neck. Kaylin winced, shielding the wound. Left side, eh?

You get caught again, and he’ll kick you back to your whore mother, Bensan said. 

Only if he remembers to update my record, Kaylin replied. He sent the pain back to the depths of his mind, numbing everything with one long breath, a technique he had mastered. References to his mother no longer upset him either. In his youth, he had defended her, but then, sometime after his tenth birthday, Kaylin had realized that the other apprentices were probably right. Neither Kaylin nor his mother knew who his father was. While she made most of her living as a seamstress now, that had not always been the case. The word whore was not an insult; it was a statement of fact. 

Nasson squinted in thought, but Bensan was clever enough to read into Kaylin’s response. You were messing with Master Sylas’ lists, he realized, sounding impressed. No wonder he hasn’t tossed you out yet.

Changing Master Sylas’ records was the only reason Kaylin had survived, and it was a trick he would repeat. He knew Bensan could hold it over him, but he’d been deliberate in his statement. Bensan was self-centered. If he could use the information to blackmail Kaylin, he would. And there was one thing Bensan needed people like Kaylin for.