The Elemental Guardians

By Jacqueline Kastberg

Aileron doesn't know who he is or what happened to him in the past to make him lose his memories. A strange reoccurring dream seems to hold the answer but creates more questions and heartache than Aileron can stand. A stroke of fate and an unlikely friendship leads him down the path to the answers he desperately seeks regarding his past and his uncertain future. During his journey, a secret that is more dangerous than ever imagined has strong connections to his past and shapes the future of his clan and the earth's fragile balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781634173421

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The Elemental Guardians

Jacqueline Kastberg

Copyright © 2015 Jacqueline M. Kastberg

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2015

ISBN 978-1-63417-341-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-63417-342-1 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

About the Author

To my family who taught me life is lived by

taking chances and seizing the day. I love you!

A special thanks to my parents who had urged me to write. This book wouldn't have been possible without their support and belief in me.

A huge thanks to the team at Page Publishing, Inc. whose hard work made all of this possible.

Book I

Foundling

I

The Dream

The lunar rose slowly through the clear, cloudless night. Steadily it cut across the sky following the path it had carved for itself throughout the millennia. This night, where it continued as it had ever onward, would be unlike any other that it had witnessed before.

On its journey across the sky, the lunar bathed a palace in its silver light. Standing tall from its place on the cliff, it overlooked the city spread like a preceding wave before it. The only noise to be heard was the gentle lapping of the ocean’s current as it beat against the cliff side.

The lunar was reaching zenith point in the sky before the first scream pierced the calm silence that had enveloped the city. A second scream followed soon after, but both were prematurely cut off before they could warn others of the arriving danger. Crawling among the shadows of the palace walls were misshapen creatures that snarled and hissed as they cut the throats of the men guarding the palace. Some carried torches, which they threw gleefully into the surrounding bushes and shrubbery of the gardens. Immediately it caught fire, spreading and consuming, turning the surroundings of the palace into blaze.

A sharp clamor of a bell echoed out as the occupants of the palace became aware of the danger pursuing them, as more guards ran out to confront the enemy. Shouts and hisses filled the air.

The violent sound awoke Aileron from his sleep. Lying in bed, he rubbed the dust from his eyes as he tried to understand what he was hearing. After a moment, he realized the screams that he thought he had been dreaming were in actuality coming from beyond his walls. Sitting up and throwing his covers off, Aileron scurried to his bedroom door and peeked through the crack. It was eerily silent as the guards that usually stood by his door were missing. There were no maids or servants wandering about as well.

Scared over the absence of the guards, he bolted from his room and ran as fast as he was able toward his parents’ bedroom. Snarls and hisses replaced the screams that had awoken him, and echoed down the corridor. These new sounds terrified him more than screams and seemed to dodge his footsteps. Risking a look back, Aileron saw twisted shadows stretched along the curve of the corridor. The fingers looked like claws as they reached out seemingly to grab him.

Terrified, he began to sob, muffling the sounds behind clenched fist. Seeing his parents’ doorway ahead, he ran the last couple of feet before falling into the door and scrambling frantically at the handle. Managing to open the heavy wooden door a crack, he slipped through and kicked back at the door to close it.

Mother! he cried, turning away from the door before letting out a short scream at the sword tip that was level with his face. The woman who was holding the sword let out a light gasp at seeing who it was before dropping the weapon and gathering the child into her arms. Cradling the young boy to her chest, she placed a kiss upon his brow and softly whispered, Aileron. Thank Lunar.

Looking around the room, she strode to the wall on the right side of her marriage bed. Placing Aileron down beside her, she cradled his face between her hands as she wiped away his tears with her thumbs. Placing another kiss upon his forehead, she pulled back to stare into his eyes. Knowing that there was little time to talk to her child, she quickly spoke, My little river, whatever happens, whatever you hear, you must not venture from the safe room I’m about to place you in. Do you understand? Aileron stared at his mother, barely able to contemplate what she was telling him. Whatever was happening outside was too much for him to take in, and he stared blankly at her. Frustrated, she shook him lightly, repeating, Do you understand, Aileron! The harsh way she was talking and the uncharacteristic shortness was scaring him, so he nodded his head yes to appease her. Once he had given his understanding, his mother removed her hands from his face and reached down her night robe to grab at the necklace that had always rested upon her person. Lifting the chain over her head, she quickly placed it upon Aileron and tucked it under his shirt. Patting the stone that now rested upon her son’s chest, she continued, Never remove this, Aileron. It is most sacred to our family and must never be removed. If you forget all else of this night, do not forget this. I know that you do not understand what is happening, but one day it will become clear.

Staring at her son, she drew him into a tight hug. The hissing and howling from the corridor was getting closer, and she knew there was little time to act. Letting go, she turned to the wall and ran her fingers over it. Coming across the near-invisible line, she dug her claw-tipped fingers into it and pressed. With a groan, a small section of the wall separated and opened to reveal a dark tunnel. Turning back to Aileron, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the tunnel. Pushing him in, she said for the last time, Remember, don’t come out, and always keep the stone upon you. Fly swiftly down the tunnel, little river. The Lunar will always watch you. And with her last, final farewell, she swung the hidden passageway shut.

Standing in the darkness, Aileron reached up to grip his mother’s necklace. He had never seen her take it off. Her footsteps moved away from where he was hidden, and he heard the ring of metal as she grabbed her sword. A pounding started at his parents’ doors, and the hisses and screeches filled every corner of the room. There was a second’s pause before the door split open, banging with a dull thud against the wall. His mother let loose a yell as swords clanged. There was a hoarse yell as a body impacted against the secret door Aileron was standing behind. The hisses and screams grew in intensity when a ripping, tearing noise sounded out. The air hung still and heavy before being pierced by a gentle, soft, and almost inaudible sigh.

Fear bound Aileron and kept him captive. The monsters in the room seemed to have come for what they had sought and went out of the room. He kept silent like his mother asked of him and waited for her to join him. The minutes ticked by like hours before he noticed a warm, sticky liquid covering his feet. The darkness pressed down around him, and it became too hard to draw in a breath as he realized his mother wasn’t coming. He blacked out before he hit the ground.

Thrashing about upon his bed, Aileron awoke, shuttering, sweating, and gripping his bed sheets in a white-knuckled grip. His heart stuttered wildly against his rib cage, and his breaths came to him in short pants. Curling up on his side, he released his grip upon the sheets and brought his hands up to his face. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, he managed to push most of the nightmare away. Groaning to cover up the sobs that wanted to escape, he ran fingers through his hair and swiped at his eyes.

It had come again. The nightmare. It had started a few months after his twentieth birthday and had continued to haunt his dreams more and more frequently. The nightmare never changed; the woman went through the same motions, and it always ended with him in that dark tunnel, fainting. He let loose a sigh. Even when he knew what was going to happen, it still left him with many a restless night.

Sitting up, he wiped the sweat off his brow. If he was being honest with himself, it was getting a little ridiculous. He really wished he could figure out a way to stop them. Swinging his legs over the side, Aileron stood up from the bed. Making his way to the washroom, he splashed cold water upon his face to erase away the nightmare’s evidence. Shaking excess water from his fingers, he brushed the remaining droplets from his face and looked into the cracked mirror above the basin.

A tired, drawn face stared back at him. Bags colored the underside of his blue eyes, dark enough to look like bruises. Lips slightly cracked and raven-colored hair disheveled, he was a sad sight to see. Well, there wasn’t much that he could do about it.

Starting out of washroom, he made his way out of the orphanage, avoiding eye contact with his fellow orphans along the way. There was little lost love between him and the others. Walking out into the street, he was welcomed by the sights and sounds of the Lower Ring. Vendors shouted out their wares from their shabby stands as worn mothers kept children close to their skirts. Others shuffled around aimlessly, too poor to buy anything and having nowhere else to go or do. A situation that most found themselves in.

Making his way down the dirt road, Aileron weaved his way through as he headed to the Port. The city that he had found himself in was built with a unique structure in mind. It was composed of three tiers. The top tier, commonly called the Upper Ring, was home to the ridiculously wealthy, who called themselves the Homicidae. The middle tier, the Middle Ring, was home to the merchants and lesser nobles, while the Lower Ring and final tier was home to Aileron and the rest of the city’s poor stock. The only notable thing about the Lower Ring was the Port. It was the only access to and from the city.

The city was backed by an enormous stretch of cliff that extended for miles. It had been carved into the cliff side so the entire city was of the same stone. The three rings never interacted much, and when the wealthy needed to reach the Port, they traveled upon a road that had been specially made. It was the only nice, and clean, item to be found in the Lower Ring.

The walk from the orphanage to the Port was only around twenty minutes, and Aileron made his way to the end of the boardwalk. Sailors groaned as they loaded and unloaded cargo from ships’ hulls. Seagulls screamed as they hovered over the activity, occasionally swooping down to try and snatch any loose scrapes. There had once been a pier at the very end of the Port, but a fierce storm that rolled in a few years ago had ripped more than half of the planking away, leaving a small stub that extended about ten feet into the water. No one bothered to fix it, and it was left to rot. Aileron liked to think that it was his. Making his way onto the broken pier, Aileron let his feet dangle over the edge as he sat down. The spray of the waves tickled his feet, and he let a small smile make its way across his face. The ocean was the only place where he could be himself. The soothing motion of the waves and the feel of the lukewarm water always set his mind at ease, no matter the situation.

Once, he had tried to take the other children to the pier so that they could experience the same feeling of peace that he always got being near the ocean. For reasons that Aileron could not understand, the others instead became more agitated the closer they got; not one of them knew how to swim. They had glared at him with suspicious eyes and had warily made their way only halfway down the broken pier. It was the farthest that the bravest of them would go. They had scorned him, labeled him a freak, and had run off. It was the first and last time that he willingly interacted with the others.

Lying down on his back, Aileron watched the clouds as they floated lazily across the sky. Between the calming sounds of the ocean and the gentle movements of the clouds, he found himself drifting off. He had quickly found that this was the only way to get any decent sleep, the one thing that kept the nightmares at bay.

As he slept on the pier, a shadow flickered about among the forgotten crates left behind with the broken pier. Hidden within the shadow of one such crate, the stranger took the time to silently watch his target sleeping peacefully at the end of the pier. It had been coming down to the Lower Ring for a while now, and the curious movements of this young man had intrigued it. It had been studying him for a while, digging up anything it could. After watching him for a few moments and noting that nothing worthwhile would be happening, the stranger darted off from its hiding place with its target none the wiser.

The Sun was sinking slowly beneath the waves once Aileron roused himself from his nap. Streaks of orange, red, and blue canvased the sky as he stretched, smoothing the kinks from his joints due to the odd position. Letting loose a yawn, he shuffled from his position to stand. Glancing out at the horizon, he gauged that he only had an hour at most to get back to the orphanage before they locked up the doors for the night. Being out in the Lower Ring without shelter after dark wasn’t a safe bet for whoever found themselves to be so unfortunate. That particular situation had only happened to him once, and it was not an experience he cared to repeat.

Wandering around the streets, he watched as the vendors packed for the night and stragglers shuffled back into their homes. It was pretty quiet, which was unusual, but Aileron didn’t think much of it, which is why when he stumbled upon the Homicidae’s carriage, he almost fell over in shock. Glancing around, he realized that he had stumbled upon the one road he shouldn’t have. If the guards that surrounded the carriage caught sight of him breaking the law, there would no longer be the orphan named Aileron.

Carefully backing up, Aileron was so focused on the carriage that he did not noticed the cat slinking around the corner of the alley until it yowled at him stepping on its tail. With its claws raking down his leg in protest, he couldn’t help but let out a screech of his own as well. The noise startled the Vereor that pulled the carriage. Ugly creatures they were. The closest thing Aileron could get in describing them was they were the living representatives of the decaying process of a horse. Black skin pulled tight across a skeletal structure, defining every bone, four clawed talons replaced a hoof, and stringy black hair ran down the creatures’ neck and back, and forming a pitiful excuse for a tail. It pawed the air, rearing up on its hind legs as it screeched in response to the noise. Falling back down, it flung its hind legs out and tore deep grooves in the parts of harness that was attached to the carriage. Giving one final snort, it bolted down the road with some of the guards tripping over themselves in their haste to follow it.

Following the commotion and rattling from the Vereor, the carriage door swung open, and a fat, lumpy blob of a man waddled his way out. Taking stock of what was going on around him, he focused his beady, narrow eyes on the nearest guard and shouted, What is the meaning of this? Spittle flew forth from his mouth as some dribbled down the folds of his three chins. The guards stationed around were at a loss as to what had happened in the span of the last few seconds and stared at the Homicidae in incomprehension. This only caused the red in the noble’s cheeks to darken. Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Bring that no-good piece of dirt to me! The soldiers immediately snapped a sharp salute, shouting, Yes, sir! Surging forward, they managed to grasp Aileron and drag him toward the aristocrat before he was able to even contemplate escaping.

Standing before the noble, Aileron tried to suppress a shiver of disgust. The man before him represented, from Aileron’s perspective, the culmination of greed and corruption. The noble seemed to be about to burst from his extremely ostentatious silk robe, and the fat folds of his fingers bulged around the gaudy rings that had no doubt been thrust upon them as an exaggerated show of wealth. The dribble of spit from his earlier speech had dried upon the layers of chins that adorned his face, and was starting to flake off. Aileron found he was unable to look away. He had never been so close to a noble before, and he found himself thankful that this was his first real encounter. If every noble was like the one before him, he counted himself lucky that he never had any dealings with them before. Somehow he knew that he would never forget this encounter, and not for the fact his life was at stake.

The noble had been staring at him as these thoughts raced through Aileron’s head, his beady eyes taking in every nuance and imperfection that he could find. Aileron couldn’t help comparing him to a rat.

After a few moments of careful evaluation from each party, the noble made the first move of snapping his fingers to get his guards’ attention while leering at Aileron with a facsimile of a smile. As the sharp sound echoed within the silence of the roadway, the guards stood straight and attentive, awaiting further instruction. A few more seconds passed before the order rang out, "I want you to kill this vermin. Such