Seer of Shadows: Shadows of the First Trine, #3

By Cleave Bourbon

Dorenn has been using essence magic…

 

…and now it's slowly driving him mad.

 

Dorenn's essence sickness can be cured but only if he travels to the Island of Doom, also known as Rugania, and goes through the trial of magic in the Hall of Ancients. It was supposed to be an easy fix, but nothing ever goes to plan. After the trial, Dorenn finds himself at odds with the wizard Morgoran, Dorenn is on the run as he seeks out the seer of shadows.

 

You'll love this third book in the Shadows of the First Trine series because of its many twists, turns, and surprises.

 

Get it now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadesilver Publishing
• Release date: Apr 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223930709

Cleave Bourbon

Cleave Bourbon is a native of Texas. His Texas heritage and his love of science fiction and fantasy allows him to write weird westerns among other fantastical stories. In fact, he has loved all things fantasy since he read the Belgariad by David and Leigh Eddings in High School. He says the word "fantasy" comes from fantasizing, so the sky is the limit on what fantasy can encompass as far as writing goes, so he isn't afraid to experiment and write new twists to liven up old tropes. Being that he holds both a B.A. and an M.A. in English, he writes full time and teaches in his spare time. He teaches Junior High and High School level grammar, vocabulary, and writing online. He says he will never stop writing and he will never stop teaching, unless he becomes physically unable to do so. He currently resides in Texas with his Tortoise Shell Cat, Khaleesi.

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Seer of Shadows

Copyright © 2023 by Cleave Bourbon

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic

or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval

systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use

of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events,

and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are

used !ctitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

events, or locals is entirely coincidental

Contact info: [e-mail]

Front Cover Design by Oliviaprodesign

Print Cover Design by Oliviaprodesign

Editor: Courtney Umphress www.courtneyumphress.com

SECOND EDITION : May 2023

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

Seer of Shadows

Cleave Bourbon

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Shadesilver Publishing

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Contents

1.Rugania: The Isle of Doom

2.Dorenn’s Trial

3.Serpent in the Mist

4.The Tome of Enlightenment

5.Mindwielders

6.Fading Embers

7.The Hidden Way

8.One Idea Too Far

9.The City of the Undead

10.Ruins of an Empire

11.Ishva

12.The Darkest Day

13.A New Evil

14.Friends and Enemies

15.A Matter of Trust

16.Back to Symboria

17.The Dead of Winter

18.A Respite

19.The Forgotten Library

20.Fate

21.The Seer

22.Trouble at Briarwick

23.Dragon’s Orb

24.The Lower Fifth

25.The Promise of Spring

26.A Time to Act

27.Rogue Assassin

28.The Way Home

29.Homecoming

30.Illusions and Deceptions

31.Ashes of Summer

32.Many Faces

33.Autumn Leaves

34.Roseshade

35.Fear of the Dark

36.Haunted Heart

Also By Cleave Bourbon

Glossary

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Chapter 1

Rugania: The Isle of Doom

Rugania, also known as the Isle of Doom by common folk, did not appear to Dorenn to be the horrific place its nickname indicated. When the old ferry finally came to rest at the dock, Dorenn was almost disappointed how new and vibrant the docks seemed. They were constructed of wood, but they must have been magically protected because they were very well maintained. The docks were covered with a canopy carved and crafted with precision.

Morgoran, Dorenn said, did the elves build these? He indicated the docks.

Morgoran was preparing to help tie off the ferry. He grabbed a thick rope and slung it on the docks. Aye, the Siladil built them. Darovan is just across the Amarouan Sea there. He pointed southwest. Surprisingly, the sand elves can work wood pretty well.

Do they have wood in Darovan? Vesperin asked.

Certainly, they do. Darovan isn’t all sand and desert. The northwestern lands have trees and even mountains. Morgoran stopped Dorenn before he took another step. The docks are fine, but I want to do one more check before we set foot on land, so don’t go running off.

Melias stepped up. The captain says he will return in one week’s time. He says he will leave here in about an hour.

That’s fine, Melias, you can tell him to shove off now if it suits him. We will be fine.

Morgoran and the boys stepped onto the docks and headed for shore. Tatrice followed. Dorenn could feel the anticipation building within him. Just before the end of the docks, Morgoran made a few more incantations to check that all the preparations had been met before allowing everyone to set foot on the island.

It must have worked, Dorenn said after he stepped ashore. He fought the urge to run around in the grass in celebration before he realized he had not fought the urge at all and everyone was staring at him. Sorry, he said somberly. I didn’t realize.

No harm, Dorenn, that’s why we’re here, Morgoran said. He pointed to the pathway ahead. Let’s get to it. The citadel is about a half hour walk. Erinthill and Brynna are expecting us.

Morgoran, Dorenn, Vesperin, and Melias walked for about twenty minutes before they were greeted by Brynna, Ianthill’s niece. A light blue dress with a white-laced collar perfectly fit her slender elven figure. Her facial features were soft and pleasing. Dorenn, thankfully, could see no resemblance to Ianthill. Tatrice lagged behind.

Welcome to Rugania, Master Morgoran. My mother will be pleased to see you so well.

Aye, I am sure I looked a fright with clear eyes and a babbling mouth. That is all well behind me now; there are other, more pressing concerns to tend to now.

Brynna looked intently at Dorenn. Yes, I can see the malady within him, but it is not too late.

Vesperin was curious. You are a healer?

Aye, cleric of Loracia, not much different from your sect. My mother and I have healed wielders for generations, although time and ignorance has slowed business of late. She smiled. It is of little matter now. Let me take you to the citadel. Mother has prepared a meal for you.

Great, I am starved, Dorenn said.

Brynna guided the party up a winding path to a set of stairs that led high up onto a hill where the citadel was built solidly into and on top of a heavy rock outcropping. Spiraling towers and bold walls blended in with the rocks, making the citadel appear a bit ominous.

A woman met them at the door. She looked like an older version of Brynna. She wore white rather than the light blue Brynna wore.

Welcome, friend Morgoran. She held her arms out, and Morgoran embraced her.

It is pleasing to see you, Erinthill, Morgoran said.

And you, as well. She clasped her hands together. I insist you and your wary band of travelers have a meal. I had it prepared especially for you. Your cleric, Kerad already awaits you in the dining hall.

I’m certain we would be delighted to accept.

She moved with grace to Dorenn and examined him briefly. He is not lost to us yet. You are right to be concerned; he is far along with the malady, but not so much we cannot help him.

That is good news, my lady, Morgoran said. Dorenn was surprised to see him smiling at her. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Morgoran smile before. He quickly concluded that he had not.

Everyone, this is Ianthill’s twin sister, Erinthill. She has invited us all to dine with her, Morgoran said. He leaned in close to Dorenn. You are in for a rare treat! He patted Dorenn on the back. Let’s go while it’s still hot!

The feast Lady Erinthill had prepared rivaled any Dorenn had ever seen, and he wondered briefly where all the food had come from. Surely this island is somewhat isolated and desolate. He decided he didn’t care and shoveled some roast chicken onto his plate.

***

After the meal, Brynna showed each of the party to their rooms before they all met in the common room. Erinthill, Kerad, and Brynna took Dorenn aside to an adjoining antechamber for a more thorough exam. When they returned to the common room, Erinthill’s concern was apparent on her face. The Isle of Doom is affecting him, Morgoran. We will have to forego some of the ritual and let him take the trial early.

I agree with Erinthill, Kerad said.

Affecting him how, exactly?

He grows worse by the hour. He is already showing signs far more advanced than when you arrived, Brynna lamented.

I can’t figure this out. Surely the state of affairs pertaining to wielding hasn’t been allowed to deteriorate this much. Look at him, for Fawl’s sake. I have never seen essence sickness like this before. In the old days, it was almost laughable.

In the old days, his training here on the isle would have cured it. I have seen this kind of sickness before, long ago. It resembles the sickness mindwielders go through, Erinthill said.

Mindwielders? Morgoran perked up at the word. No mindwielder I ever knew had any kind of essence sickness.

It’s not the essence that makes them sick. All of their power comes from the mind; it’s the mind that breaks.

Dorenn is no mindwielder. Nothing he has done has given me that indication. His demeanor intensified. What about tradition? No wielder has ever skipped the rituals.

Erinthill moved to grip Morgoran by the shoulders so she could look him directly in the eyes. Morgoran, my friend, I beg you to put him through the trial tonight. There is no time for ritual, or anything connected to the old days. These are not the days of old. I sense his essence sickness has an unnatural component. A shadow has come along with it. Take him to the Hall of Ancients.

Morgoran sighed. "I suppose the old days are gone. It is a shame that I am helping to begin a new generation of wielders without adhering to our customs and traditions. I guess they are just foolish nonsense from an old wielder."

They are not foolish ways, dear. We will still honor them when the time comes. This is just an extreme case. A case you do not seem to grasp is of the utmost seriousness.

Morgoran strengthened his resolve. Very well, let’s get Dorenn to the Hall of Ancients tonight.

Good, we can get this issue solved before the madness I sense in him becomes too much for us to handle.

Morgoran halted. Madness? What madness?

Erinthill took Morgoran’s hand and whispered in his ear. I know you do not want to believe his malady is of any origin besides essence, but you do know he is descended from Marella, one of the most powerful mindwielders ever known. His sickness is unique, and I fear he will go mad if we do not get him help right now.

Morgoran gestured to Dorenn. Come on, lad, let us get you to the Chamber of Ancients and get you well.

Dorenn complied, not wishing to give away that he heard Erinthill’s whisper. He would have to look up this Marella and find out who she was.

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Chapter 2

Dorenn’s Trial

The last light of dusk settled on the horizon as Dorenn and the others entered the Hall of Ancients. Erinthill and Vesperin patted Dorenn on the back, wished him well, and took their leave of him through a doorway that led to the attached temple of Loracia, where they prepared to join Brynna and Melias in healing prayers to Loracia and Fawlsbane Vex.

Morgoran led Dorenn to a long corridor. At the end of this corridor is the entrance to the Chamber of Ancients. Every wielder who ever trained on this island has been through that chamber, and every single wielder has left a part of their own essence there for future generations. New wielders were sent through to specifically heal essence sickness, and then to leave their own essence when they had learned the ways of wielding later in their training. It was discovered over time that patterns in wielding essence recurred generation after generation. The essence of a former wielder that fits your essence pattern will bind with you and open you up to handle wielding essence and cure your sickness.

So, your essence is in there? Dorenn asked.

Aye, as is Ianthill’s, Gondrial’s, Shey’s, and hundreds more. He wavered for a moment. But I must warn you, son. He cupped the back of Dorenn’s head. The essences of Toborne, Naneden, and Drakkius reside in there as well.

How do I avoid them?

You don’t. Their essences may heal you like any other. He pushed him along. We will all be here in the temple should anything go wrong. There is a rope hanging at the center of the hall. If you pull it, a bell will sound in the temple to alert us that something is wrong, and we will come running.

I wish I had the Silver Drake here with me.

I wish I had never told you about that. You can do it without her.

Dorenn could see on Morgoran’s face that he didn’t quite believe that. I am not so sure, Dorenn concluded.

There is no other choice at this point, I’m afraid. We are here, and she is not.

Dorenn nodded and began his trek down the corridor. Even though torches lit the way, the hall seemed to grow darker as he neared the chamber door. He pushed the chamber door open and peered into the room. A couple of sconces with torches dimly lit the room. In the center, an ornate rope with a frilly end dangled from the ceiling. Its weave consisted of different colors forming a pleasing pattern. The walls were mostly smooth except for an enormous stone sconce jutting out of each one, filled with jagged-looking, glowing green crystals.

Dorenn entered the room and walked up to one of the crystals. He reached out and touched it, but nothing happened. He stood there a long time before visiting each crystal in turn. Am I supposed to say something or do something? he thought. He turned back to the doorway, intent to go back and get Morgoran, but as soon as he took a few steps, the stone door closed and fit seamlessly in the stone around it. Dorenn could not even see the creases of a door anymore. Feeling stifled, he began to gasp for air until he noticed the flames from the torches moving due to puffs of air coming from a series of holes in the walls near the ceiling. He thought about pulling the rope since nothing was happening, but Morgoran said it was for emergencies, and this was not an emergency. He decided to sit on the floor and wait until Morgoran came to get him.

Remain standing, a voice boomed in the room when Dorenn started for the floor.

Who’s there? Dorenn asked. There was no answer.

I said, who’s there?

Several ethereal apparitions seeped out of the walls. They came forth as transparent mist. The crystals glowed green as soon as they appeared. We are the vestiges left behind. We are what is left. The essences of those who came before. You have touched the vessels of our being.

The crystals?

Aye, that is where we dwell.

Dorenn caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see balls of mist, which he assumed must be the captured essences of the wielders before him, floating from each of the crystal sconces. Hundreds upon hundreds of the ethereal forms entered the chamber. Can you cure my sickness?

This is your trial, Dorenn Adair. We have been waiting for so long.

Dorenn was confused. You have been waiting for me? He began to feel uneasy as the room filled up with even more of the balls of mist. How do you know my name? He started to move toward the rope. One of you is supposed to bond with me and cure me, right?

Mist snaked its way up to his head, blocking his way to the rope. It formed into a face eye to eye with him. I am the essence of Salazera. I can cure you. Dorenn opened his mouth to talk, but before he could get a word out, the mist entered him like a puff of air, and he breathed it in deeply. He started coughing and couldn’t catch his breath. He bent over and put his hands on the top of his thighs. He coughed again and then stood upright, taking a deep breath. The mists were swirling around him, and as soon as he started breathing in, they all entered his torso in rapid succession. He gasped and writhed but could not stop them. He reached for the rope nearby as the last of the mist entered his body. The room was spinning, and his head felt like it had been cleaved into. He felt himself falling to the floor. Reaching out for the rope, he fell short. From the floor, he could see more mists coming forth from the crystal vessels. He opened his mouth in an attempt to call for Morgoran to help him. The new mists surrounded him and began to enter his body. The pain became unbearable, and Dorenn closed his eyes. When the pain subsided, he opened his eyes to see more mist pouring out of the crystals. Dorenn tried to scream as they floated toward him. Again, the pain came, and Dorenn felt himself go limp.

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Chapter 3

Serpent in the Mist

Faint voices from somewhere in the distance became louder and louder as Dorenn regained consciousness. He expected to see Morgoran, Melias, and the others. Instead, he was in a rich, wood-paneled room with a warm fire burning in an impressively-carved stone fireplace. As he regained his senses and could see more of the room, he was reminded of some of the hunting lodges near Brookhaven, minus the animal heads on the walls. At the room’s center sat a rustic, wood-carved table with matching chairs, and sitting on those chairs there were two people Dorenn didn’t recognize. The man, who looked like a much older version of Gondrial, was dressed in dark green robes. He was talking and puffing on a white clay pipe. The woman sitting next to him, laughing with a high-pitched voice, was dressed in a white robe and also occasionally puffed on a white clay pipe. From what Dorenn could see of her, she had blonde hair and a pleasant demeanor.

Dorenn groaned and sat upright. Where am I?

The woman in white put down her pipe on the table. Ah, welcome, young Dorenn Adair, she said.

Come here and sit at the table. We have much to discuss, the man in green said as he pushed out one of the chairs with his foot under the table.

Dorenn reluctantly accepted the invitation and sat in the chair.

The man puffed his pipe and sat back in his chair. My name is Zarluflast, but people call me Zarl for short. He offered his hand toward the woman in white. My dear.

The woman took her cue. Oh, and my name is Loris. Her voice was only a whisper, soft and faint.

We are the keepers of the Hall of Ancients, Zarl said with a flourish of his hand. We have brought you here because we need to discuss your future.

Yes, dear, Loris said, we are acting on instruction from Fawlsbane Vex himself.

Dorenn looked around the room. Is this a lodge?

Zarl looked at Loris and put down his pipe. We should go ahead and cure the essence sickness now, my dear, before we proceed any further.

I agree.

The pair moved toward him, and the entire room went dark. When the light returned, Dorenn was sitting up from the same spot where he had been left unconscious before. Exactly the same scene as before with Zarl and Loris laughing and smoking at the wooden table occurred again. Only this time, Loris came to him as soon as he opened his eyes. Is this a dream? he wondered aloud.

Aye, it is a dream, Loris said. Just not the same kind of dream you are used to.

This lodge, as you asked before, is inside of your head. We are in a dream construction of your making. I quite like it. Spectacular job, Zarl commended.

So, I am cured of the essence sickness?

Loris patted him on the head. As cured as you will ever be.

You are still on the floor in the crystal chamber. No one has come to check on you yet, but I am sure it is only a matter of time. Morgoran will wake you up and see you are cured. No one will be the wiser of what has actually happened to you.

Oh, and what has happened to me? Dorenn asked.

Loris grimaced and moved back to the table.

What? Dorenn asked again.

Zarl stood from the table, took up his pipe, and puffed deeply on it a few times. You have been through the trial of the ancients.

And?

Do you have any idea how the chamber works? Zarl asked.

Aye, Morgoran said that I would enter the chamber and the essence left behind by the most compatible wielder would bind with me and cure the essence sickness.

Aye, and that is precisely what happened, only . . .

Loris could see Zarl’s hesitation, so she spoke up. We were all joined with you. Every wielder known to pass through this chamber. You are an impossible man. You are compatible with all of us.

How can that be? Dorenn asked. That can’t be right.

No, it cannot, Zarl agreed. However, there is one possibility that Fawlsbane Vex mentioned to me long ago, and it is why we are here now. The Tome of Enlightenment.

What is the Tome of Enlightenment? Dorenn asked, now feeling skeptical.

The Tome of Enlightenment was the first book given to all races of the world. As soon as a person looks upon it, they may read it. It was the book that first taught the concepts of magic. Dragons read it and learned Dragon magic, some men read it and learned to wield essence, some men read it and learned to mindwield, and so on. Each race read it differently, and each race received knowledge of magic from it.

Loris took over. Then the tome was lost. After the magic war, much of the ability to use essence and mindwield was lost with the men and women who died, taking the secret with them to the grave. We need that tome to be found.

I asked Fawlsbane Vex, when he still walked among us, where it was located. He told me that one day, when the need was dire, a man would come to take the trials who would join with all the essences of the chamber, and the combined knowledge he would receive from the joining would tell him where to find the book.

So where is it? Loris asked pointedly.

Dorenn closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. I have no idea. Dorenn opened his eyes again and looked at his hosts intently. Loris and Zarl were adamant that he knew where to find the tome; both were transfixed and hanging over him like ghouls. There is something more to the story than what you are willing to reveal to me, he said. Zarl and Loris stared at each other with maniacal grins and faded away.

After a moment, the room dissolved, and Dorenn found himself on the side of a mountain. It was late winter or early spring because the air was brisk. There was no snow on the ground, but some light flurries were blowing around. A cool breeze made him shiver and pull his cloak around him tightly. He had not been aware he had a cloak. Tall grass swayed in patches of greenery between rock outcroppings.

He shivered before his eyes caught sight of the figure of a large head and maw peeking out from behind one of the rock outcroppings. It was encased in a mixture of light blowing snow and mist. He looked harder and rubbed his eyes. The outline appeared even more clearly to be the head of a dragon outlined in a snow flurry mist. As Dorenn focused on the serpent in the mist, it abruptly morphed into the figure of a man, hunched over, and shuffling slowly with the aid of a cane.

Who are you? Dorenn asked.

What was all that nonsense about? Dorenn was startled by a voice immediately behind him. He turned to look for the source. Finding nothing, he quickly cast his eyes back to the mist, but it had dissipated.

Whose idea was it to put you in that chamber? Dorenn spun around again this time to see a familiar old man with a long grey beard and grey robes standing behind him. He had a long walking stick on which he leaned for support.

I remember you, Dorenn said. You were the man in the shop that sold me the jade statuette I gave to Tatrice.

You have a remarkable memory, Dorenn Adair of Brookhaven.

What are you doing here? He glanced at his surroundings. What am I doing here?

I am here for you. It seems you have had the unfortunate experiences of both essence sickness and its cure. He took a step forward, planting the walking stick firmly in the ground. You are here because I willed it so. We need to have a conversation away from all those other wielders you now have rattling around in your head.

Careful, there’s something lurking about within the mist of mountain. Dorenn pointed where he saw the creature.

What? the old man gazed at the spot where Dorenn pointed. At first, he looked concerned and then his expression turned to one of joviality and he laughed, Oh that! That was just me. I am one with the serpents and dragons of this world. You might say they are all my children, well, most of them by way of my actual children, but my children, nonetheless. Do not concern yourself with it. He breathed in deep as if the mountain air was too thin for him. What I want to know is what happened to you in that chamber.

Why did they do it? The essences in the chamber. Why?

What are you asking? Why did all the wielders bond with you?

Aye, why did that happen? What are they doing?

Well, that is a tough question to answer, but I will give it a shot. He gestured to a nearby boulder that might serve as a spot to sit. Dorenn was glad to get off his feet. The old man creaked and cracked as he found a spot to rest. He still relied heavily on the walking stick.

I am about to reveal to you the location of the Tome of Enlightenment. Those wielders knew long ago that your line would be the one I gave the knowledge to, so they wanted to be a part of it, some for their own gain. Those essence you took on have very real, live counterparts in this world, and they think they were clever enough with what they left behind to manipulate you into revealing the location to them.

How could you possibly know where the gods hid the tome?

Ah, you see, you already are gaining knowledge you did not have knocking around in that head before. How did you know the gods hid it? Hmm, you didn’t even know about the tome until a few minutes ago.

I don’t know.

Well, I do. That was most likely Loris or Zarl. They have been blocked from you now so we can talk, but they have already left an imprint of knowledge.

If you reveal the location to me, what will stop them then, once you are gone?

"I will make sure you absorb their knowledge and