Saga of The Kings Book 1 and Nymphs of The Forest Book 2

By Dee Ann Smith

In the days of yore, legends and heroes were born and magic thrived. Fairies and nymphs intermingled with human lives. At the Great Gathering in the epicenter of the vast dense forest, the fairy council and Elders meet. There they meet to plot and plan and manipulate the destinies of kings and royalty. They judge their sins and decide their fates.

The young hunter Alexander, strides through the forest, stirring the mists as he strolls. A hooded sorceress, Hannah, slinks through the forest and enters a dark cave to visit her sister, Katarina, chained to the cave's slimy walls. Sade, the fairies' protege, emerges from the forest to fulfill the fairies' plan to end the rule of unjust kings. In a circular clearing deep within the forest, Drakkar, the Man-Beast, is raised from the dead to continue his quest for revenge.

They are linked by blood and magic. They are the descendants of nymph goddesses--Avani, wood goddess, associated with the forest and trees; Layla, goddess of darkness and night; Marisol, goddess of sun, water, and light; Adara, goddess of wind and fire; Sarika, goddess of earthly pleasures and desire.

It's an epic tale of princesses and kings, a tale of secrets, betrayal, misplaced love, and loyalty; a story of heartbreak, lust, greed, and revenge. And the forest, alive with eyes, sees and knows all!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639610860

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Saga of The Kings Book 1 and Nymphs of The Forest Book 2

Dee Ann Smith

Copyright © 2022 by Dee Ann Smith

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Our tale begins in the days of yore,

Where legends lived and heroes were born,

A time in which magic both black and pure thrived,

Where Fairies and Nymphs intermingled with human lives,

And royal kingdoms were ruled with pride.

The Elders

Dwelling deep in the mists of the darkest forest, where even the fairies dare not pass, lives the master of a dying kingdom. A once majestic castle now turned dark and cold waits for its last light to be dimmed. The old king prisoned within lies in the throes of loneliness and despair. He prays for the miracle needed to save his people, for the fulfillment of a legend now remembered, the legend of the Emerald Prince.

Chapter 1

The Emerald Prince

Resplendent in these days of glory, the Jeweled Kingdom thrives with prosperity. The palace embodies strength, wealth, and beauty. The building and grounds are expansive. The walls of its great hall are lined with woven tapestries, and the floors are covered in imported Turkish rugs of vibrant colors. It rises to the height of three stories. The palace park, or gardens, are beautifully landscaped and maintained. The kingdom’s realm encompasses all the eyes can see, including the green luscious forest and beyond. The surrounding villages and its peoples, under the sovereignty of the king, are happy and healthy, and food is plentiful.

Just outside the forest’s border sits a great statue high upon one hill. The statue is magnificently made of emeralds, gold, and bronze. It depicts a mighty warrior astride a great lion from an age long gone. Legend claims it depicts the Deliverer, protector of the kingdom in days present and past, standing diligently, guardian of the people—the Emerald Prince. The Elders, sages of the highest wisdom, predict that one day soon, the kingdom will fall under the power of wickedness. Two great forces of evil will combine to destroy society as they know it. Liberty, prosperity, safety will be lost. Great hunger, sadness, and darkness will permeate the land. Hope will be forgotten. The mighty one will then rise to save the people! The Emerald Prince will ride again!

Wrapped in their cocoon of merriment and high spirits, the people scoff at these gloom-and-doom prophecies. Foretellings of such a nature are too morbid for a day like today. Instead, everyone is filled with gaiety and laughter. Great news has been proclaimed! King Leon’s son and heir is born! Banners are raised in celebration, and people fill their glasses with libations, toasting one another in hilarious goodwill. Songs break out as well as fistfights and dances. The Elders and their prophecies be damned!

The people have long awaited these glad tidings. King Leon and his queen no longer possess the face of youth. King Leon is the Last of the Magic Ones, son of Leon the Older and Avani, the wood nymph. He and his offspring are tied to the land, nature, and especially the forest. The Elders say if the king was not blessed with an heir, the land would lose its fertility and the king, his magic. The luscious grounds would become brown, and the fields would lie fallow. The forest and its mists would creep in and consume the kingdom. Leon considers himself a realist and not easily wooed by fools or superstition. He is an honest and righteous king and rules his kingdom with competence and wisdom. He has dedicated his life to the well-being of the Jeweled Kingdom and loves his people. He will not let the mutterings of the Elders cloud his joy over the birth of his son. Let the people rejoice with the king and the prospect of his heir’s bright future.

While the people dance, King Leon II and Queen Katarina hold their precious bundle in wonder. Leon, with his arms around Katarina, gazes at the miracle their love created. They waited ten years for this gift. He never imagined he could love anyone or anything this much. Smiling to himself, King Leon II remembers the day his father told him he was betrothed to a woman he had never met. He had been filled with annoyance and dread. And yet how blessed he is to have honored his father’s dying wish.

Leon—Katarina nudges him a second time—where is your mind? she teasingly asks.

Leon roused from his reverie, smiles sheepishly. I was remembering what a vision you were on our wedding day. You are even more beautiful to me today than the day I married you! I have no regrets! The years have been fulfilling with you by my side. You are my friend and confidant, more than just my wife. I am further blessed with the birth of our child! Feeling secure and happy, they are completely immersed in their little family.

Not everyone, however, shares in the joyful news and elation of the king and queen. Not everyone is celebrating. Unknown to the villagers and the royal couple, a social misfit seethes with anger. Loathed and misunderstood most of his life, Drakkar plots and schemes. He is called Man-Beast, Lord of the Guurds. He is a man of huge proportions. Age, rage, and hatred has done little to improve his visage. He is a monster, both outward as well as within. The years, people, and circumstances have not been kind! His unholy heart is apparent in his tortured face. He is damaged beyond the depth of his soul! Drakkar paces. He rants and raves to himself. Spittle spews from his lips. Filled with bitterness, he avows vengeance.

Drakkar’s hatred is rooted in rejection, wounded pride, and jealousy. He fell in love with Katarina when they were young. He was a mere servant, she, a princess. He brazenly declared his love. She did not return his affection. What a fool he was to believe a woman as lovely as she could love a hideous beast like him. He was ridiculed, captured, bound, and sent away by ship because of his familiarity. Katarina was betrothed to another. She was betrothed to King Leon—Leon, his only friend, a friend he once considered a brother. How he mourned the loss of that relationship. Katarina and Leon are the only two people he ever loved. He opened his heart to both. They betrayed him!

Holding his head in his hands, Drakkar sighs. He is so tired of living with rejection, contempt, and grief. He longs to rid his heart of the pain and futility of loving Katarina. Dropping his hands, Drakkar pounds his heart. It’s Leon’s turn to feel pain and loss. The queen and her babe need to die. Only Katarina’s death will cut the love Drakkar has carried for her from his heart forever. With the loss of his wife and child, Leon will finally understand what it means to know true misery! Oh, how he yearns for Leon to suffer! Perhaps then his own suffering will finally end!

Stopping his tirade, Drakkar contemplates. He knows that Leon’s magic has strong roots. Leon is the son of Avani, and his mother’s magic lives within him. But Drakkar has at his disposal an accomplice to help him with his plans for revenge. He has the assistance of Hannah, sorceress of the mists. She possesses evil magic and has the dark character required to complete the treacherous endeavor he has in mind. She too has her own reasons to seek reprisal, and her hatred rises above his. Forging a nefarious alliance, Sorceress and Guurd lord meet to conspire. At the conclusion of their business, Hannah’s face breaks into a sinister smile. She is loyal to no one. Whispering imprecations in a low malicious voice, she devises her own course of action for the queen and child.

All is quiet within the city walls as night descends upon the forest. The villagers lay secure in their beds, content with the day’s events. But outside the walls, the forest grows still and quiet. Evil creeps into the vale and hovers with the night’s mist. Slowly the mist begins to thicken and change. It moves and breathes like a living being, concealing all with its coverage. With singular and sinister purpose, the fog floats toward the palace. It crawls on invisible feet across the forest floor and over the courtyard till it arrives at the royal chamber. Death, like a thief, slips in, and innocence is stolen. Hannah and Drakkar purloin Leon of his greatest treasures!

As the eastern sun begins its ascent and the villagers begin to rise, King Leon stirs in his bed. With a loving smile on his handsome face, he reaches for Katarina. King Leon’s smile never falters as his strong hand touches only silken sheets. He stretches his masculine form. With a grace surprising from one so muscular, King Leon springs from the bed. Perhaps his child needed to be fed and, at this very moment, suckles at his wife’s sweet breasts. He eagerly goes in search of his wife and baby. His smile deepens in anticipation as he pushes open the nursery door. But an emptiness begat from horror greets him. King Leon falls to his knees, overcome with sickness and disbelief. The room, once cheery and bright, now appears dark and damp. A strange moistness clings to the floor and walls. King Leon cries at the words scrawled in blood!

Death to the Jeweled Kingdom

As king no longer shall you reign

The magic of your kingdom has died with your heir and queen

The means are justified by the end

Now we are even

An old friend

The morning is shattered by Leon’s agonizing roar of pain. He collapses in unbearable heartache. The sky darkens. The mists thicken. The land shrouds in shadows. As light fades, Drakkar and an endless army of Guurds head for the palace. The villagers, struck with disbelief and fear, run in panic to the safety of their homes. Drakkar arrives at the city gates to find them wide and unprotected. He knows King Leon is already defeated. Leon’s magic is vanquished. Gone is his will to live! He is broken. The kingdom is Drakkar’s for the taking.

Drakkar’s aspirations have come true, his as well as another’s. Far away in a dark cave, Hannah sings an ancient lullaby to a sweet and cooing child. He is a beautiful male babe with reddish curls and eyes of emerald green. Yes, revenge is intoxicatingly sweet, she thinks to herself. So is betrayal. Hannah laughs as she rocks. She is beholden to no one and does what she pleases. Raising this child in secret pleases her beyond belief. Oh, my dear Katarina. I have almost evened the score! Hannah resumes her humming!

Meanwhile, the people of the Jeweled Kingdom revert to superstition. They are lost without Leon’s guidance. As predicted, the kingdom has fallen. Magic is gone. The Elders were correct. Great evil has permeated their country. Now their hope is contingent on a tradition: the legend of the Emerald Prince, whose statue rests upon the hill. Will the Emerald Prince rise to become flesh as foretold in mythology? Will he rescue his people in the coming days of great turmoil? The people pray for the return of the Deliverer as darkness and despair settle over the land.

Twenty long winters of drudgery pass under the malicious and tedious rule of Drakkar. The kingdom’s wealth is drained, and the streets are lined with the filth and stench of Guurds. The kingdom is a wasteland, and the once magnificent Leon, rumored to be ill. A new generation exists, one more bitter and silent—a disenchanted people. The Elders speak of hopes, dreams, and folklore. But all the young have ever known is the harsh reality of toil, hunger, and poverty but, most of all, fear—fear of Drakkar, that soulless creature that governs their society. His rules are strict and his punishments excessive! Dissidents have been known to disappear, never to be seen again.

Drakkar heaves himself up to restlessly walk about. He has grown fat from overindulgence while the people starve. His wanderings lead him, once again, to the chamber where the ailing king lies. He watches as Leon takes a shallow breath. Surely Leon will be dead soon and, with him, the ghosts of Drakkar’s past. Not a day goes by that Drakkar’s mind is not haunted by auburn tresses, eyes of emerald green, a baby’s cry, and a woman’s screams as the mists carried them away that fateful night. He still feels Katarina’s presence. Drakkar limps from gout and peers out the window. Is that a new mist he sees or the usual gray haze? Drakkar’s body shivers slightly. He dismisses it as a chill and curses his melancholy. Perhaps he is becoming ill and shakes off his mind’s useless meandering.

Leon, his hair snowy white, body thin and railed, feels the beginning of a hum as Drakkar paces. Deep in the mists of the forest where even the fairies are absent, magic is stirring. Leon’s once majestic palace is now dark and cold. Leon, prisoned within, lies in the throes of loneliness and despair. He has prayed for the miracle needed to save his land and people, for the fulfillment of a legend now remembered, the legend of the Emerald Prince. Finally, from his sick bed, Leon feels hope rising. In that dimly lit tower, a spark, a gleam appears in Leon’s half-closed eyes. Power is returning.

Meanwhile, a young man in the forest hunts. Game is hard to find in this haze, and he has come farther than expected. His mother will not be pleased. Even knowing this, the bold young man forges ahead. He shakes off thoughts of his mother. He doesn’t want to think about the last time he saw her. He feels anxious, nervous, and restless. What he needs is distraction, some excitement and adventure. His body vibrates with energy. He can be called nothing less than superb. He stands over six feet and four. He is an athlete, confident and agile. A long auburn mane hangs past his shoulders, and emerald eyes sparkle with intelligence and humor. He can dazzle most maidens with just a smile. A sudden movement catches his attention. Quickly, he draws his arrow and bow. Catlike, he waits and watches. The deer he awaits steps into view, and deftly into the foliage he shoots.

His loud laugh reverberates through the forest as the deer bounds away. Usually, he finds his mark. The tip of his arrow is protruding from the dense brush. The forest seems darker here. The air is heavy and damp. The mists swirl and snake around him as he walks. His movements disturb an unpleasant scent. Arriving at the arrow’s tip, he scratches his head in confusion. His arrow is embedded in something the dense forest has enveloped and hidden. He withdraws his knife to hack at the mass of tangled vines. His body feels alive, and his muscles ripple with the sweat of his exertion. The young hunter works in a frenzy like a man possessed, unable to stop himself until the structure is completely