Rowen and the Fell Beast

By Brittany Sellers and Diana Firefly

A young adult fantasy novel about hope, fear, magic, loyalty, and a young girl who wants to save her only friend, the Fell Beast.

 

The Fell Beast, William, is kept under a spell by the masters of the Ludas Magnus, a place of learning where the ancient arts of alchemy are taught. Rowen wants to know why. Determined to find answers to this mystery, she questions everything she has ever known and struggles to find the truth. What she discovers is a secret so miraculous and deadly that if Rowen wants to survive, she must find a way to free the Fell Beast and unite the free peoples of the world before history repeats itself and the world is once again destroyed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wordwooze Publishing
• Release date: May 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223345725

Book preview

Rowen and the Fell Beast

Brittany Sellers and Diana Firefly

Wordwooze Publishing

wordwooze.com

© 2021 by Brittany Sellers

All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without written permission from the author or publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission is punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Cover by Brittany Sellers

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

From her precarious perch on the top of an old pine tree, Rowen could see everything. She could look out all the way over the forest and just make out the township of Magegrove peeking up over the green. The white-gray stone of the buildings seemed to glint in the sun, like a lighthouse guiding the way back from sea. The girl chewed at her bottom lip, worrying at the soft skin with her teeth as she imagined what it would be like.

Soon, she would be there, learning the crafts as a student in the ancient academy of alchemy, the Ludas Magnus. The age-old castle-like structure at the peak of the swell was where the masters would teach her how to use her ability, along with the other children. She was late in coming to the school. At 13 she was nearly too old to be trained; they usually started kids at 10. Rowen wasn’t looking forward to it.

Wind rushed through the branches, making the tall pine sway just enough so she felt like she could fall if she wasn’t careful. She clung to the tufts of needles, ignoring the rough bite of pine cones. Her red hair whipped about her face like dry autumn leaves. It was tangled, a mess of sticks and bramble all wound up among the strands. She thought about trying to brush it out, then dismissed the notion. She didn’t care what anyone thought about her. In fact, the idea of bringing some piece of this forest with her was a comfort. For so long she had come here, slept here, lived here. It was more her home than the nearly empty house where her father sometimes stayed when he wasn’t drinking. After her mother died, that house had been nothing short of a tomb, full of sorrowful memories and pain.

Under her palm the smooth bark of the pine felt pleasant and warm. She sighed, cherishing these last moments before she had to leave. Who knew when she would return to this forest? She felt she knew each oak and ash, felt their energy, and almost heard their voices. She knew of a few mages who claimed to be able to speak the tree’s language, and Rowen knew she was one of them. She had never been comfortable speaking with humans. Friends were a strange thought. Conversation with others her own age had always been odd and strained. She preferred the company of the trees.

The girl breathed in the smell of the wood and tried to calm her mind. She felt a symbiotic sadness at leaving this forest, yet a strange excitement of the unknown, a new place to explore where she had never set foot before. All the special, secret places she had made for herself in these woods and the animals—everything would stay the same even if she left it. These things had been here forever, and they would never change.

The forest was where she felt the most comfortable, and the creatures here were much simpler to communicate with than humans.

Down below her a clearing of yellow grass waved, and a rabbit made its way in and out of sight. She watched as it foraged, nibbling on bits of herbs, completely unaware of her.

Suddenly, a hawk swooped down and landed on the rabbit. A shrill scream was the only disturbance in the wood. Rowen looked down at predator and prey, a startled, sick feeling in her chest. She hadn’t noticed the hawk, either, or if she had, she hadn’t realized exactly what was about to happen. She had been too distracted. Guilt and anger welled up in her chest. Reaching out, she grabbed a pine cone and, with a shout, threw it down at the bird.

The hawk lifted off and flew a safe distance away. It watched as Rowen climbed down from the tree and went to its kill. There was little the raptor could do but click its beak and wait for the human girl to lose interest in its business.

Rowen could see the rabbit was dying. The skin was torn, and red painted the grass and stones. It was still breathing, but its staring eye was fixed. She knelt beside the small body and inspected the ugly sight. Reaching down, she picked up the creature and held it in her hand, ignoring the way the flesh was growing cool. She focused on the life inside. There was just enough for her to work with.

With her other hand she began moving her fingers, watching as the green light trickled down into the wound in the rabbit’s side. For a brief moment the animal kicked out its feet, head thrown back, and then it grew still.

Rowen laid the creature back onto the ground and continued moving her fingers. This was her power, alchemical transformation, changing one organic form into another. It was a rare ability, more unpredictable than ordinary earth magic. Rowen frowned in concentration as she worked. The rabbit’s fur fell away. Its arms and legs grew twisted and sprouted out long finger-like roots. The torso grew hard, and the head became a round place with leaves and green tips showing. The girl began to dig around the bloody earth, piling the dirt up to the side. Once it was deep enough, she picked up what had once been a rabbit and buried it. After a few more moments a small, purple flower peeked from the soil and unfurled. It was an echinacea flower.

Smiling gently, Rowen reached out and stroked the soft, brightly-colored petals.

So, that’s what you are now, she murmured.

The hawk watched all this furiously. After the girl threw him an accusing glare, she left. The raptor snapped his beak and flew back to where his prey had been. All he found was a little flowering plant surrounded by blood.

Rowen walked slowly, wanting to spend as much time within the forest as possible. The wood was full of the sounds of animals. The gentle whoosh of the leaves rustling in the wind was like whispering voices calling to her, telling her secrets. With nearly silent steps she leaped from atop rocks and fallen logs. She passed the place where she had made a series of small huts when she was younger and paused briefly to see what time had done to them. Some of the structures were made from sticks and cedar branches, while other simpler ones were made from overhanging roots and dirt. When she was smaller, she had placed dried grass and leaves into the rooms, hoping that animals would come live there, too, but the only creature she ever managed to spot taking up residence in her woodland houses was one solitary gray fox. Rowen smiled as she remembered the spring before when the fox had kits and how the little ones would roll about outside the den. She never bothered them, but she did like to watch. Maybe the fox would have another family here when things grew warm again, but even if they did, she wouldn’t see them.

With a pang of sadness she kept walking.

Fallen logs lay over the path she followed, and here or there tunnels had been burrowed through the grasses which covered much of the ground. Perhaps they had been made by rabbits or other such creatures. It was common for her to find sickly or dying animals. The natural order of things was for predators to hunt prey. Usually, the smaller animals she could not heal were transformed into wildflowers and herb bushes. Rowen hated to see anything die and tried her best to protect all life she found.

The girl’s gaze remained on her own feet while she remembered all the instances where she had used her alchemy. She was not really seeing the ground as she walked, but her steps were sure as she traversed the familiar path. Many thoughts ran through her head, all spiraling out of reach. Through her thin shoes she felt the earth and stone, and by listening to the hushed, murmuring voices of the trees, she could tell where everything was. The oaks and cedars welcomed her presence. Each tree spoke of life new and old, of animal and insect, bird and reptile. There were termites in the old stump a few hundred yards to her left. Along the trickling spring was a sleepy black bear searching for nuts to eat. In the dirt were grubs and worms wriggling blindly in the dark, while a mole snuffled close behind them. The words were everywhere, all around her, and each was different from the last. The saplings, full of energy and sunlight, waved and bowed in the breeze. They seemed to be laughing while dark pines chastised them for their arrogance.

With practiced ease Rowen balanced on a rock which jutted up from a moss-covered hillock. The stone bit into the heel of her foot, but she didn’t care. For a moment she stood on one leg, leaning down to see the line of little black ants that made their way around her shoe and off into the fallen leaves of the forest floor. Each one held a piece of some insect and were bringing the bits back one at a time to their anthill. The sight disturbed Rowen. Without another thought she leaped down and continued on her way.

After a time, she cleared the green wood and came to the incline that led to her father’s house. The cottage peeked out from the hedges in the gentle place between one hill and another. It was an odd spot to build a house, but then again, her mother had always done things strangely. She insisted that this was the best place for their home, and she had been right. The rain never flooded here, even though it should, and the sun never made it too hot.

Rowen gathered her energy and sprinted up the steep hillock, deciding to break away from the woods behind her in one go and not look back. Out of breath and sweating, she ran into the house and down the hall to her room. Her father wasn’t here, judging by the silence. This was the last day for many years she would be in their home with him, and he had gone. To drink, to gamble? She didn’t know and told herself she didn’t care. She told herself it didn’t hurt.

Rowen missed her mother so much that at times she felt she couldn’t stand being here any more where everything was a memory. She would be glad to leave.

Swiping angrily at her face, Rowen grabbed up a few things she would need and escaped from her once-home, walking quickly toward town toward the Ludas Magnus. Behind her the woods beckoned and called to her, but she refused to listen.

Other children approached, and crowds of them gathered. The streets were full of future mages and craftsmen, all streaming toward the castle on the hill where they would study for the next few years. They chatted loudly and laughed carelessly, faces bright and shining. Excitement and anticipation for what would come filled their high, clear voices until Rowen couldn’t hear herself think. She glared at her feet, trying to shove past so that she didn’t get swept back down the hill or knocked over. She felt uncomfortable and crushed between their bodies.

The crowd moved as one mass, swelling over the streets and going up toward Ludas Magnus in a slow, twisting line. The towering structure of white stone was ancient, the battlements moss-covered and cracked. Each brick had been hewn from the cliffs by the sea and carved with runes of protection and wisdom. Rowen looked up at the castle turrets and walls. She couldn’t look away. The aura of power coming from this place amazed her. She had never been so close to a building full of legends and secrets. Stepping closer, she ran her fingers over the stone and shivered at the jolt of energy that ran up through her skin. She grinned for the first time since leaving the forest, thinking of how her mother had once come here to learn, how she was following in her very footsteps. All the secrets of the masters were kept inside of this alchemic academy. The Demon, the Other, and the Fell Beast dwelt here, as well.

These were the three beings which were both of this world and not, all of them enemies and yet brothers to one another. So many tales were told about the three of them: how they brought about the end of the old ones’ rule, how they once saved the world, how they fell from the sky like the stars that sometimes shot across the horizon. Which of the legends were true and which were false she would soon discover for herself.

Rowen’s breath quickened at the thought of one creature in particular. She wanted to see the Fell Beast. Of all the wonders in the world she wanted to see him the most. Her mother had spoken of the creature the masters kept imprisoned within a wall of clear crystal, forever sleeping. She said that he was good, an immortal forest king from the ancient world. However, instead of satisfying her curiosity, this information only served to open Rowen’s mind to a dozen unanswered questions. One such question refused to be quieted: if the Fell Beast was so powerful, why did he allow himself to be chained and trapped while he slept away the centuries?

The young girl walked with quaking knees and a pounding heart inside the bowels of the citadel. The air was cold and stagnant like a cave. Rowen drew the folds of her tunic closer together as she stared up at the towering hall before her. The ceiling stretched higher than she thought it would, and massive torches illuminated the room, each one burning with different colored flames. The floor was worn smooth from so many feet passing over it, the rock shiny and hard.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she could see three people faced the children as they entered, two men and one woman. Their green robes were covered in fine designs which seemed to change as you looked at them. The men’s eyes were both a nearly iridescent shade of blue, while the woman’s eyes were a rich brown. Their faces were as strong and motionless as iron. Rowen could feel the power they possessed. The other students bowed their heads a little and shuffled closer, nervous and unsure, looking anywhere but at the three masters.

The masters stared back at them, appraisingly, critically, full of judgment. When their eyes met Rowen’s, she did not shy away or glance down. Why should she? She was no less than they were. It never entered her mind to avert her gaze.

As they observed one another, somewhere in the back of Rowen’s mind she felt a presence, as though the masters were searching for something. But a moment later the feeling was gone, and Rowen was left to wonder if she had just imagined the sensation.

It was then that the three adults turned and began walking farther into the castle. The other students waited for instruction, uncertain. Rowen moved forward first, and the rest of the students followed.

As she walked down the hall with its arches and carved figures, Rowen tried to understand what had taken place just now. She felt wary of the masters and distrustful, as though she should be careful around them. The more she remembered and replayed what happened, the more she was convinced that the masters looked into her memories somehow. That thought made her feel angry. She glared at the masters. They hadn’t meant her harm, but she did not want anyone else inside her head. She vowed to be more careful and guarded to keep that from happening again.

The rest of the students tried to ignore the strange red-haired girl whose clothes were streaked with sap, dirt, and rabbit’s blood. They gave her a wide berth as she scowled at the mages who led them.

She took no care with her appearance. She neither brushed her hair nor washed her hands. The animal blood which stained her fingernails and the creases of her skin slowly turned a rusty color as it dried. Eventually, Rowen became uncomfortably aware of their judging eyes. Her hands fisted, and she marched further ahead of them. She didn’t care what anyone thought. Even if she had tried to clean up and dress like them, it wouldn’t have made any difference. It was always the same.

The others mumbled to one another, and she caught snatches of their comments.

…told me they would release it, but it couldn’t hurt us. The masters keep it trapped, and the beast…

…was how it happened. She liked her the best. I think I will, too. She knows everything. But out of the other teachers she actually wants to help you. She…

Did you hear that joke about the horse and the dragon…?

Who is that red-haired girl? I haven’t seen her before…

…talent. I just found out a year ago. I can make things float. Not myself, of course, but other things like my shoe or a stone. I lifted the cat once…

As one of them spoke, a boy close to her age bumped into Rowen. Because she was startled, her powers lashed out. Instantly, leaves and bark began sprouting from the boy’s arm where he had brushed against her. The boy let out a cry as he watched his arm change, panicky and shocked at what happened. Rowen cursed at her lack of control. Acting quickly, she grabbed ahold of him and concentrated on reversing the alchemy. A moment later he was back to normal.

The boy looked at her fearfully and clutched his hand to his breast.

What did you do? Why did you do that?

Rowen shook her head and kept walking. She didn’t want to get in trouble on her first day here. She noticed that the masters didn’t stop for them. Maybe they didn’t notice what happened. When the boy continued to stare accusingly at her, she answered his question tersely. I didn’t do anything to you. It’s fine now. If you hadn’t bumped me, it wouldn’t have happened.

The boy still looked angry, but he didn’t say anything else. He moved as far away from her as possible and kept