Dragon Warrior: Dancing with Death

By Jennifer Raviele

About the Book
There was a time when Chaos ruled and it was through His tyranny and rage that his son, Death, was born. Death defeated His father and rose up in His place as keeper of the dead. But as it is with all who have power, Death decides it isn't enough. He wants more.
He begins to murder and slay humanity, using their souls to build His strength like unto a god. To save the world from Death's destruction, a Gifted One arises to challenge Him. Joined with the soul of the Last Dragon, this warrior conquers Death, driving Him back to the Underworld, where He is to be chained to his role for all eternity. Thereafter called the Dragon Warrior, the champion vows to forever protect the World of Life, and his soul is reborn again and again to carry out his promise.
But then, something happens that prevents a new Dragon Warrior from being born, and Death begins to grow in power once more. Five hundred years pass before another Dragon Warrior is born. David is flung into a world he doesn't understand, bound to a destiny he wasn't expecting. After losing his sister to Death's cursed Hellhounds, David flees his home village with a Legacy to the Order of the Faithful, Amora. Together, they travel the land of Janania, facing many villains and heroes who, in the end, help them to become stronger and closer. They eventually meet the Light Witch, Alessia, who aids David in honing his new magical powers. David's quest, as he is to discover, is to defeat Death, once and for all, and to save the World of Life from His corruption. While facing a world driven by madness and pain, David must discover a path that will both save the world and himself.
About the Author
Jennifer Raviele was born and raised in Oklahoma, where she lived with her parents and three brothers. Later, she joined the United States Air Force and moved to Florida, where she learned how to maintain aircraft. Now she lives with her husband and their dog and cat. She spends a lot of her time writing and reading as much as she can, exploring both this world and those on the pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Jul 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798888127643

Book preview

Prologue

There once was a time, long before the first great civilizations made their claim in the world, when Chaos reigned. Chaos was the god among gods, the ruler of the realm, and the most powerful being the world had ever known. People bowed, and they worshipped him. He was the great majesty, but he was not the all-being. He demanded sacrifice, the blood of humanity.

Now, this was a time before the dead left the world of Life to walk in the Underworld. Those who died often wandered the world aimlessly, never knowing their proper place. Those who lived and those who died became lost in the world of Life. There was no balance, no order, and so Chaos reigned supreme.

These were the days of the Age of Fire, where blood was currency and hatred fuel. Chaos fed on the suffering of humanity. The great god who stood as tall as the tallest mountain drove his talons deep in the earth’s crust and wrenched the Life from its core. But, as Life lost its strength, another power arose. While driven mad by his own desires, Chaos overlooked the birth of his son. The son of Chaos claimed the name of Death. He drove his father down deep into the pit of the earth and forced him into a long sleep. In doing so, he took the powers of Chaos and gave the dead the rest they deserved. He created a barrier between the world of the living and the world of the dead and vowed to guard it all of his days. And so, the world found order. Death now ruled the land. But his power could not sustain both the world of Life and the world of the Dead. Unwilling to give up his dominance over the dead, he placed his throne in the Underworld, but he was comforted with the knowledge that he could still visit the living ones whom he had fought for.

Before too long, he became lonely for the sun once more. He longed to touch Life that was warm and light, where Death was cold and dark. He ventured once more to the world above and saw people enjoying the life he had given them. When he went to join them in happiness, they could not see him, for they did not know him. He traveled to each corner of the world, and no one knew who he was. They did not see the sacrifice he had made so that they could enjoy the lives his father had wanted for himself.

His anger grew with each passing day he spent on the surface. With each set of empty, unseeing eyes he saw, his wrath boiled. This was wrong, he thought. They should be worshipping him as they had his father! He was a god! He was born with powers beyond these humans! They didn’t deserve the Light of Life!

His heart filled with fury, and his vow to protect life shattered under his all-consuming rage. He reached out his hand under the sun and leached the Light of Life from all who dared to forget him. How dare they? What right did they have? How dare they forget their god?

People became filled once again with the madness of Chaos reborn in Death. They turned to murder their family and their friends. They slaughtered their livestock and burned their homes. Plagues ravaged the lands. Famine spread amongst the weak. Death reclaimed the World of Life.

Now, a few people of this age possessed the gift of magic. These Gifted Ones called forth their most powerful members, the sorcerers, and used their magic against Death, attempting the drive him back to the Underworld. However, they underestimated his ability. He turned his yellow eyes to them and reached out his withered hand. Each of the Gifted Ones fell to the ground in agony as their souls were ripped from their still-living bodies. As Death added their powers to his own, he laughed with ecstasy.

He had believed he rid himself of all the sorcerers, but there was one he had missed. The one called Aron crawled from the scorched earth where the rest of his fellows laid. He was young, far too young to see so many dead. He had heard stories of the ones before who had been so crazed with madness they turned on themselves. He had listened to the tales of Chaos, who thrived in that world of pain. He did not know of this one who called himself Death. This one had rid the world of Chaos and created order. For that, he should be thanked. But the time for that had passed. Death had lost the Light of Life.

Aron escaped the torment of Death and fled to the lands of the dragons. There, too, he saw nothing but carnage left by Death. He finally found a cave in the farthest mountain at the highest peak. Inside was the last of the dragons, ancient and old was he. The massive beast had scales that glimmered like rainbows inside of crystals. His eyes were like white jewels brighter than the stars.

Aron gaped in awe at the majesty of the Dragon. The last of the dragons gazed down at the small form before him. His eyes were filled with sadness and despair. It was through those eyes that Aron knew what had happened. This Dragon had also lost all of those whom he loved. Death’s reach was far and wide. He had to be stopped. He placed a consoling hand on the snout of the Dragon. The Dragon closed his eyes and breathed smoke, hot and intense, into Aron’s face, where he inhaled the fumes.

Aron immediately began to feel a change within himself. His whole body began to shine as bright as the midday sun. He felt Life grow within himself. He saw, too, the Dragon’s scales started to lose their shine. Having realized their grave situation, the Dragon merged his soul into Aron’s. In doing so, Aron emerged from the cave stronger and more powerful than Death himself.

With the aid of the Last Dragon’s soul mixed with his own, Aron used his new abilities to battle Death and drive him back into the Underworld, where he was to be locked away forever. Here, he could still guard the dead but would no longer hold power over Life.

But Death would not give up so easily. He kicked, and he screamed. He raged in his cage, tormented in the darkness of the World of the Dead. Aron knew that Death could not be held forever. He then used his magic and cast a spell over himself that would allow his merged soul to return after his death into the body of another. This spell required the use of the heart of the Last Dragon that was to be used as a talisman to guide Aron’s reincarnations. There would always be a true guardian for those of Life in this way. Thus ended the Age of Fire.

People had heard of what Aron had done, that he conquered Death with the aid of a Dragon. They then created stories and songs of the great Warrior. He earned a name for himself then. The name they gave him was the Dragon Warrior.

Chapter One

"Thank you, David. I’m glad we have you around. Don’t know what we would do without you," Logan, the local tavernkeeper and David’s brother-in-law, said as he sat the wooden chair back on the ground. David had just finished fixing the old chair after a somewhat unruly guest got drunk and flung it across the room.

David ran a hand through his dark hair and chuckled. Well, I do what I can, Logan.

Logan laughed with him and scooted the chair under a nearby table. Are you coming for dinner tonight? I’m certain Jenna would love to have you.

David looked at his brother-in-law and hesitated. Logan was a tall man, just slightly taller than David. He had blond hair and brown eyes that stood prominent against his tanned skin and a strong jawline.

I would love to, Logan. How is Jenna doing?

Logan smiled. Ah, she’s angry as a wild boar, I bet. I was supposed to be home hours ago.

Well, why didn’t you say so? I could’ve closed up for you.

Logan patted a firm hand in David’s back. And trust you with my best wine? I don’t think so, friend. Come, we’ll head back together.

David nodded and followed the larger man out of the tavern and into the cold winter night. Fresh snow crunched under their feet as they made their way down the unpaved street. The village was sound asleep this late at night. Shops were shuddered closed, and houses were dark without lanterns. The village center was clustered with houses and shops, where the buildings formed a circle that would eventually lead to a large well where most people got fresh water. David and Logan were headed farther away from the rest of the buildings and toward a square of houses near the village’s eastern side. It was there that Logan and Jenna had a small place of their own with two bedrooms and one main room where they did their cooking and entertaining. David kept asking why they didn’t move closer to the tavern Logan owned, but Logan’s answer was always the same. He didn’t want Jenna around so much noise with the baby coming so soon.

And so, the two tightened their coats around them as the cold wind battered against them. Snow began falling lazily from the dark sky, and David shivered. He didn’t remember the winter being this cold before. Last week, they had a massive blizzard that lasted a full day and left nearly the whole village several feet deep in snow. Thankfully, the sun had come out a couple of days later and melted most of the snow. However, it looked as if they were in for another storm.

I shouldn’t stay too long, or I’ll be stuck there for who knows how long, David thought. Even though he lived alone, it was preferable than staying with his pregnant sister and her husband. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of his home and was proud of the house he had built. It was simple in style, with only one room that held his bed, a table, and a fireplace where he did all of his cooking. He also had an old chest that he seldom used as it held mostly heirlooms left to him by his long-passed parents.

As the two men finally neared Logan and Jenna’s house, David noted that light could still be seen within. His sister was still up. That could easily be both a good thing and a bad thing. He slightly regretted not getting Logan home sooner, but the man was insistent his chair be fixed right then. After all, broken furniture could cost business if one wasn’t careful.

That was David’s job, after all. He fixed things that others could not. His father had always said he was born to be a carpenter, a handyman of sorts. Ever since he was young, David was always fascinated with the tools of his craft. He would pick up his father’s hammer and immediately know what to do with it by slamming it home on a nail in a board. The board was never really attached to anything, but he enjoyed the effort regardless.

The path of the road ended at the doorstep of the house. Logan took in a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable scolding of his wife. David patted his friend on his back in support. Logan looked at him and smiled, pushing open the door and letting them into the warmth inside. Jenna was standing at the fireplace, stirring something in a pot. She held a wooden spoon and whisked it slowly about the broth, letting the steam escape and touch her face. When she heard David and Logan enter, she quickly turned around, minding her large belly as she maneuvered.

There you are! she said sternly.

She was looking at her husband with fire in her eyes. Her dark brunette hair matched that of her brother’s, and her blue eyes screamed her annoyance. She was far shorter than her brother and husband but tall compared to most other women. Both she and David got their height from their father, whom most people called a bull of a man. Tall, broad shoulders, and thick-headed. A description she believed could also be given to her brother.

Ironically, David was thinking the same thing about his sister. The only other person who could give as terrifying a glare had been their father. Though often strict with his children, Corbett Aaronson was also affectionate and kind. Those traits, too, were passed to his daughter.

Logan swallowed with unease as he shut the door behind them.

I’m sorry we’re late, my dear. A customer had broken a chair, and I had asked David, here, to come out and fix it up for me. Your brother is a life savior, he said and gave David a nervous smile.

Jenna looked at her brother. Is this true? she asked.

David chuckled. Of course, it is. Don’t worry. I kept your beloved husband safe and patched up his chair. He moved away from the door and walked over to his sister, giving her a warm embrace. I had missed you, Jenna. He placed a gentle hand on her stomach and felt the child within give a strong kick.

He’s going to be a strong one, Jenna commented, smiling up at her brother.

Logan came and joined them next to the fire and kissed his wife on the cheek. She glared at him as he pulled away, but she could not hide the playful smile on her lips. She sighed and gestured to the stew boiling behind her.

I certainly hope you two are hungry. I’ve been toiling over this for the past hour.

Logan looked at her with concern. You really shouldn’t be on your feet for so long. You’re too far along now. You should really be resting.

She swatted them both away and retrieved two bowls from the cabinet. She filled both of them to the brim with the vegetable and rabbit stew and handed them to David and Logan. They both took deep breaths in of the aromatic stew.

Thank you, Jenna. It’s freezing outside, and it’s nice to have something warm, David said and sat down at their table. It was a round table that David had built when Jenna and Logan had married three years prior.

It has been getting awfully cold outside lately, hasn’t it, Logan agreed and sat down across from David, pulling up another chair for Jenna to sit in.

Once Jenna made her own bowl, she waddled over to them and carefully sat herself down. She groaned with relief at finally taking weight off her swollen feet. The stew smelled wonderful after spending so long cooking it

So, she began. How was the tavern today? she asked Logan.

Logan swallowed a mouth full of stew and cleared his throat. Well, it was going alright until Serban had one ale too many and got angry when one of the waitresses wouldn’t give him another. He was so drunk that he decided taking his anger out on his chair was the best action.

Well, Jenna sighed. I always did think he was a bit of an alcoholic. I feel sorry for his wife. How many times a week does he go to the tavern, Logan? Five? Six? Who knows at this point.

Logan chuckled. Well, I can’t complain too much. He is keeping a roof over our heads, after all.

Jenna rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her belly.

David laughed alongside Logan, absorbing the merriment of the moment. Jenna always seemed to have one thing or another to say about the villagers.

When they had all finished, and the fire started to grow cold, Logan convinced his wife to go to bed and promised he would be there shortly.

When Jenna had gotten up and left, David and Logan were left alone in the small main room. They still sat at the table, each gazing into the dying embers of the cook fire.

You should stay the night, Logan mentioned. It’s far too late for you to risk going back to your own place tonight. Wait till the morning when the storm has passed. Jenna would kill me if I let something happen to you.

David chuckled. I know, and thank you for your offer, but I need to get back. I have a new work order I need to fill. Someone needs a new table.

Alright, I won’t waste my breath trying to convince you, but you be careful.

Of course. Do you need help here before I leave? David asked as he stood from the table.

Logan stood with him and shook his head. No. I think I can manage myself. Let me walk you out.

When David walked out of the house and back into the cold of the night, he drew himself close to his jacket, not wanting to leave the warmth inside. He looked up at the sky, longing to see a glimpse of the stars, but thick clouds still hung above. The wind had picked up, and snow flurries stuck to his clothes. It would be a long way back, indeed.

Chapter Two

Cold wind blew intensely around David as he made his way down the quiet, dark street and toward the edge of town where his house was. It had to be around midnight, judging from the moon’s position in the night sky. Angry branches twisted and turned in the strong breeze, making David nervous as he continued on. He kept glancing up, afraid that one of the heavier limbs would fall. Though, he knew that they wouldn’t. The trees around Great Hollow were solid and ancient. They had withstood the test of time, and he had faith they would remain for years to come.

He, at last, saw his small house nestled amongst a cluster of younger oak trees. He chose this location, so far from the rest of the village, because his work often caused a lot of noise he didn’t want to disturb the other people. In fact, his house was so far from the village that most people considered it outside the area altogether. Whatever the case, he enjoyed the solitude. Behind the house, not attached but sitting very closely, was a workshop made from the same material as the house. The workshop was slightly larger than the house, supporting one large room with an upper level to keep various tools. The house, a dark oak like most places, was square and straightforward with just two windows, one facing the front and the other facing the back.

When he got to the front doorstep, he kicked off the layers of snow caked to his boot and shook off the lingering cold. He twisted the knob and frowned when he found the door stuck. It often got that way, but it was curious to happen when it was this cold. He shrugged and braced his shoulder against the door. He leaned back slightly and then rammed his side against the wood. The door groaned open with a heavy exhale, and the dark interior of the house greeted him.

Damn that door, David thought. He made a mental note to try and fix it later. For the time being, he gently closed it and placed a nearby chair in front of it to hold it closed as the frame had partly shattered on his way in.

The house was cold and dark, quiet save for the occasional gust of wind coming from outside. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them, regretting not wearing gloves. He made his way over to the fireplace on the other side of the room and sighed disappointedly. The stack of firewood he had made earlier was conveniently gone. He must have used it all and not realized it. It was just as well. He needed to get some sleep if he was to finish that table the next day.

Rubbing a hand down his stubbled chin, he sighed again and removed his jacket and boots. His bed was on the right-hand side of the single room and had an assortment of warm blankets on top. He didn’t bother removing the rest of his clothes as he was so tired that he could barely stand. He walked over to the small bed and allowed gravity to take him to the firm mattress. He grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around himself, hoping to block out the cold of the night. Tomorrow would be a good day, he thought.

The next morning, the light from the sun woke him up. Its gentle, warm rays came in through the front window and lit up the house’s interior. He rolled over to his side and groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The light looked a bit bright. How long had he been asleep? He sat up quickly and looked around. His coat still hung on the chair where he had put it the night before, and his boots were resting on the floor beside him. He looked again at the empty fireplace. He had more wood in the workshop that he could use, but it looked clear outside. Perhaps it was warm enough that he wouldn’t need a fire. Throwing off the blankets and stepping onto the hardwood floor, he stood and stretched to wake himself up. Later, tea would be lovely, but he needed to get to work.

He grabbed a fresh set of trousers and a clean shirt to wear that day. When he finished dressing, he donned his socks and boots and stepped outside after moving the chair out of the way into the cool morning air. The sun had come out and melted much of last night’s snow. The temperature had warmed quite a bit. A good day, indeed.

The trees above were naked, without their leaves, and still from the lack wind. No branches had fallen in the night. That’s good, David noted. He was afraid he would have to fix yet another thing that day. Not that he really cared. He enjoyed the work.

David moved off to the side of the house, where he had access to the workshop. Two large doors faced the front, and he easily slid them both open to allow fresh air inside. Everything was just as he had left it. A large worktable stood at the center of the spacious room and had various tools resting on top of it. A bench held many pieces of wood ready to be treated and stained, and a shelf in the back held ledgers where he kept count of his orders. He grabbed an apron from a peg by the doors and tied it around his waist. He went over to the stack of wood that was delivered a couple of days ago. He retrieved a rather long piece of cedar that would be used to make the table. The board itself was nearly three feet in length, but he would have to cut a few inches off to meet the customer’s order. The other pieces of wood were also cedar and of similar size. A couple of thicker pieces of wood would work as supports for the table’s underside. He thought about clipping off the ends to prevent people from hitting their knees when walking past. Thankfully, they were already cut and sanded partially, so he wouldn’t have to do it later.

Setting the wood aside, he went to the stairs in the back leading to the top floor to get the tools he needed. He took the stairs two at a time, eager to get started. His stomach rumbled with hunger. If he hurried, he could at least assemble most of the table before noon when he could break and eat. Usually, he skipped breakfast as he didn’t gain an appetite until the afternoon, but that day he found himself hungrier than normal. It must have been the late night, he thought.

Reaching the top of the stairs, David located a cabinet toward the back of the second floor that held many of his more used tools. He kept them in bins situated on each shelf by order of type and size. His tools included hammers, axes, adzes, an auger with different-sized bits, chisels, planes, a saw, and several different nails. He also had measuring devices like rulers and squares. For today’s project, he selected the hand-saw, a dual-sided hammer with a round tip and a square one on the other side, an auger that had a wooden handle and a place where one could insert a metal screw bit, and a plane that could be used to scrape down the material to fit the desired size. He also grabbed a chisel, thinking about adding some final decorative finishes. He placed his tools downstairs at his work table and then went up to grab anything else he might have forgotten.

When he had gathered all of the necessary tools, David wiped a hand across his already sweaty brow. The day was warm but not overly hot yet. He knew by that evening, the temperature would cool considerably as it had last night.

David went back to the woodpile and retrieved four three feet long planks that would act as the table’s main body. He then grabbed two thicker and shorter boards that would be the cross-members attached to the belly of the table. These, he would start with first. They needed to be cut to size so that they would end just shy of the table’s width. He set the two thicker pieces of wood on another bench and went to reach for the saw. This particular saw had two handles on either end of the blade where one could use the combined force of both hands.

He worked at a rhythm the rest of the day, toiling with his hands and caring for the wood, molding it into the form he envisioned with his mind, and resting once for lunch. As he worked, he thought about what he wished to do that evening. He would finish the base of the table soon enough, and he decided he would reward himself with a walk in the forest later. Being out with nature had a way of calming him in a way that other things couldn’t. It was one of his many delights living so far from the village. He had the freedom to go as he pleased without the worry of an eye or two watching him.

The birds sang delightfully as the sunlight streamed inside the large workshop, illuminating the light wood in his hands. He finished sanding down the base and blew on it for a final touch before he put up for the evening. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took in a heavy breath, relieved of the inviting warmth in the air. Perhaps spring wasn’t too far off.

The evening air was just as bright and warm as the midday. That is another good sign. His mind trailed off as he looked at the setting sun behind the horizon of trees. He thought of a time when he was small, and his mother told him stories of the Light of Life, a force made of the purest good that only wished to please humanity. She said that the Light gave Life to all, and all would return to it when they died. It was a beautiful thought, but he didn’t think the world worked that way. He believed in what he saw, and though light was presently all around him, he knew that it was not Life as his mother believed. It was the Sun, bright and warm. The Sun was what provided life.

He didn’t know what made him think of his mother right then, but he enjoyed the thought. He could barely remember his parents anymore. They had died so long ago, it was hard to picture their faces or even remember their voices.

He sighed into the air, his breath creating a cloud in the still frigid temperature. Spring would come, but it wasn’t here yet.

The path behind his house took him deep inside the Graygara Forest that surrounded the whole of Great Hollow. It acted like a natural shelter, protecting the village from outside forces and keeping them relatively isolated from the Empire.

David frowned when he thought of the Empire. The Jananian Empire was the most powerful force in the land, having conquered several of the smaller kingdoms centuries ago. The Emperor was kind, or so David was told, but all he could see to prove even the Empire’s existence was the random inspection from Imperial troops that would wash into the village. It was a loathsome ordeal but went quickly as long as everyone kept their heads down.

Whenever asked what they were looking for, the soldiers merely spat in the faces of those who questioned them and marched on. It wasn’t worth fighting back. And so, the villagers kept on as if nothing had happened but always kept an eye out for white armor.

The decaying leaves crunched under his boots as he walked. The previous night’s snow had nearly melted and provided an almost buoyancy to the leaves. The path forked and curved this way, and that, the smell of pine and oak mixed with the smell of moisture and animal remnants. The forest was always the most beautiful this time of year, but he looked forward to spring and fresh fruit and vegetables.

He stopped when he came upon a crackling creak that glistened with clear spring water. It flowed through a shallow ditch in the ground, the bank rising steeply to either side. Stepping out of his shoes, David carefully climbed down the unsteady bank and eased his feet into the cool water. He waded through the water, being careful as he crossed slippery stones, weathered smooth from the constant flow.

The shadows around him grew long, but he didn’t wish to head back just yet. Moments like this were rare and far in between. He wanted to make this last as long as possible.

An owl called out somewhere nearby, asking that one insistent question, Who? Who? Who?

Who, indeed, David thought. He was so focused on the sound of the bird he neglected to watch his footing and slipped on a stone. He fell face first into the water and flung his hands out before him to catch his fall. He skidded into the cold water and jabbed an elbow onto a sharp rock.

He hissed with the pain and ground his teeth to stop from crying out.

Damn, he scolded himself.

He picked himself back up and flung bits of water off his now-soaked trousers. It was a good day, he thought angrily.

Then, something unexpected caught his eye. In the water, as if folding into the sandy bottom, a red stone barely showed through in the dim light. He bent down and gingerly picked it up, wiping the mud from the surface. When he was able to get it clear, he was surprised by how transparent it was and how it glowed softly, casting its own light.

His hands were brightened by the red light, making them seem otherworldly. He held his breath as if waiting for something to happen, gazing at the simple beauty of the stone. It resembled a gem but had the feel of a stone. He couldn’t quite describe it to himself. It just felt too unreal. How did this get all the way out here? He hadn’t seen any others like it and had waded in this creak many times before.

At a second glance, he noticed an inscription written on the side. It was faint, but he could make out vague letting. It flowed and ebbed together into one word, almost, but he knew that it was some arcane form of Jananian. He recognized a few of the characters, but he couldn’t tell much more.

He squinted, trying to make out more. He spoke aloud to make sense of it, letting the syllables flow from his tongue. Nagahcomshlaamnya whmcomgahōōnamngah.

Before the words even left his mouth, the stone lit up in dazzling bright light, blinding him. He almost dropped it in surprise, but something made him hold on to it. His ears rang as his own words echoed back at him, filled with something he didn’t recognize. Energy bloomed within him. He buzzed with it. His eyes grew with wonder and amazement. The stone hummed in tune with his heartbeat, glowing and vibrating. He became consumed with it. Despite the heat

that grew from it, his grip remained firm, unharmed by the fire that erupted, snaking up his arm and chest, and then his whole world turned into an inferno.

Chapter Three

He didn’t know how long he had been asleep. All he could see was the near pitch of night and the cooing of nocturnal animals, rummaging for food. He groaned as he rolled over in the dirt. Dirt? He looked around him, his vision showing little but enough for him to determine that he was not in the creak as he remembered. He looked again. He was in the same spot, but there were no signs of the creak.

Turning his head, he realized he was sitting in a massive crater where the creak once flowed. There were small burbles next to him where the water was slowly flowing back, but the ditch where the creak was was completely gone.

He was shocked. He sat motionless as his brain tried to comprehend what had happened. He looked down and saw that the stone was still in his hands, now cold but shining with a dim red light.

He had the brief thought to throw it far away and forget about it, but a small feeling in the back of his mind told him not to.

He stood on shaking legs and tucked the stone inside a pocket, preparing to navigate his way back. He really should have stayed home.

By the time he managed to climb out of a thicket of tree limbs and brambles that stuck to his clothes, it was well into the night, but he could still hear the noisy merriment of the villagers. The lights from the tavern acted like a guiding beacon in the darkness. He had somehow managed to come out on the other side of the village entirely. He had only wished for a quiet walk. That was the last time he would do that.

He trudged back onto the main road, his boots in near tatters thanks to…. whatever had happened. He could only imagine what the rest of him might look like.

He made it to the tavern, voices, and music trailing outside, the sounds of laughter and pleasantries. It was the last day of the week. Many were celebrating a renewal of Life. Everyone celebrated differently; it just so happened that Great Hollow’s way of giving thanks included several tankards of mead.

David shouldered open the door, and a gust of warm air met his damp cheeks. Despite the growing chill outside, he found himself to be sweating from the exertion of climbing out of the forest.

A few people greeted him as he walked him, saying, Hello and How are you? A few people commented on his clothes. What happened to you? Get into a fight with a dragon? They mocked him, but none of them meant harm. They were having fun.

The large room was cast in an orange glow from the vast fireplace to his right. To the left, tables were filled with customers, all roaring in laughter from a rather hilarious juggler come in from the next town over. There were a few new people in the room that David did not recognize. It must be close to Market Day, he grumbled to himself, a moment of irritation passing over him. He never did enjoy Market Day. It was usually placed a day or two after the Light’s Farewell Ceremony, which occurred after every full moon. He sighed, realizing that the full moon was high overhead that night. The Ceremony would take place the next day and Market Day after that.

A few patrons gave him a curious glance as he lumbered over to the counter directly across from the front door. Logan was busy polishing a few glasses, laughing at one of his customers’ comments. He noticed David coming toward him and waved him over.

His eyes widened when he saw David’s clothes. By Life, what have you gotten yourself into? he asked with a half-smile and raised eyebrows.

David glanced down at himself, noting the scorched marks on his shirt and holes in his pants. He had been soaked when he plummeted into the creek. Now he was bone dry, if slightly cold from the wind outside. Whatever that was…it hadn’t seemed to harm him, only his clothes.

He shrugged, not really able to give a firm answer. My afternoon walk took an unexpected turn. You could say I got a bit turned around.

Logan gave his brother-in-law a skeptical look but brushed it off, handing David a mug of mead. Here, take this. It’ll help you forget, he looked David up and down, your ‘unexpected turn.’

David took the warm mead, thankful to have something in his stomach after the long walk back. He was just about to go to his usual table when a loud voice scolded him.

David Corbettson!

David stiffened and hesitantly turned around. Jenna, her round belly taking up much of her torso and face redder than the sun at sunset, bristled with indignation when she saw her brother. She had used their father’s name and only did so when she was angry with David.

How on Life’s good world did you do this to yourself! Her voice was deafening compared to the din of the crowded dining room.

He was doing me a favor in the forest. I’m afraid he got a bit lost. It’s my fault. I should have been there with him. Logan came up behind them, abandoning his post behind the counter when he saw Jenna’s reaction.

David gave him a grateful nod, even though Logan’s lie made him seem like he didn’t know his way around the forest he practically grew up in.

What!

Jenna’s glare focused on her husband. She bunched a slender fist and punched him in his bicep. He barely flinched, but his reaction was enough to satisfy Jenna’s wrath.

You know better than to send someone out there alone. You remember what happened to the last person who roamed the forest at night.

Almost the whole room became hushed. They all knew what she referred to. Tand was just eleven years old when he got trapped in the forest, lost in the never-ending web of ancient oak. He had gone out much later than he was allowed, seeking the adventure all youths do. It is said they found his body the next day, soaked in blood with the jagged claw marks of some large beast. No parts of him were missing. He was intact save for the massive wound on his chest. It appeared as though the creature killed him for the pleasure of it and no other purpose. No one knew of any animal capable of doing such a thing, which made his loss that much more painful.

The somber mood livened quickly as the juggler made another attempt to juggle five mugs at once. People turned their attention away from Jenna and turned back to the merriment.

I know, Jenna, Logan said, frowning.

Don’t blame him, sister, David tried. It was my fault for staying out so late. Don’t be upset. After all, it is almost time for Light’s Farewell Ceremony, yes? When we can thank the Light of Life for allowing us to have another successful month. Be glad.

She sighed, the breath traveling through her whole body. You are right, brother. She smiled. It is getting very late. I should go home and get some rest. I only wanted to assure you were alright. She rubbed David’s elbow as she headed out.

Wait, Jenna, Logan said. Let me take you home. It’s getting cold out. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, he said, his eyes traveling to her swollen womb.

Of course, she soothed him, and they left David to be with his mead and the growing crowd in the tavern.

Logan turned his head to look behind him and seemed to ask David telepathically to handle things while he was gone. David nodded his assurance he would.

He made his way through the thick swarm of people, most of them drunken to a stupor, and found himself at his usual table in the back corner of the room. It was in just the right location to see the whole room displayed before him while getting a clear view of whoever entered. Having a full visual of his surroundings gave him an edge of comfort.

He sipped his mead while listening to the general conversation in the room. It was difficult to hear over the raucous laughter and the sound of flutes and bagpipes filling the air. Despite this, he was able to hear the table just next to him.

Did you hear of the recent attack? an older man, about fifty, asked his younger companions.

One of them shook his head. No. What attack?

Well, the old man began with eagerness in his tone. It wasn’t so much of an attack as a raid.

A raid? another asked in disbelief.

Yes, a raid, the man nodded. "The Emperor’s soldiers raided a village south of Elfai. Said they were looking for someone. A Gifted One."

The table erupted into a chorus of oohs and ahhs.

I didn’t think there were any left, one of them commented.

Apparently not. And the Emperor has put a price on any he can find. He wants them for his own private army. That’s my guess.

You mean he’s rounding them up? That’s why he raided that village? He thought there was a Gifted One there?

That’s what I heard.

And who told you this? the youngest one said.

A man up in Aylain City. I went there to visit my cousin a few moons ago. Met the man in a local tavern. That’s what he told me.

And how are you to believe this ‘man’?

I trust him. I can read people. I know he told me the truth.

David unintentionally let out a Pfft.

The old man swiveled his head around to David’s table, his eyes glaring and mouth snarling. You don’t believe me, boy?

Now that the man had turned his head toward the light, David could see that it was Serban, the same man who enjoyed ruining Logan’s furniture.

It doesn’t matter what I think, Serban, he said, keeping his eyes on his drink.

Serban stood, expecting to retaliate. One of the younger men at the table grabbed him and dragged him back down.

It’s not worth it, Uncle. Let him be, the youth said. Serban growled in response but said no more.

David sat for several more moments, wondering when Logan would arrive so he could talk about what really happened. He turned the stone around in his pocket, feeling it with his thumb, memorizing every divot in its surface.

Fire and flames. That’s what he saw. And the words he had read. What did they mean? The thoughts raced through his head like an avalanche. He was so consumed by them that he barely noticed the hooded figure staring at him from across the room.

Chapter Four

She sat with her green hood obscuring her face so completely that only the slight outline of breasts beneath her cloak gave her away as a woman. She had one leg casually draped over the other, both arms crossed over the front of her body, and her cloak wrapped tightly around her, surprising given the room’s warmth. She was facing David, her attention obviously drawn to him even though he couldn’t see her eyes. He could feel her gaze creeping on him, sending shivers down his spine.

He looked out past the crowd and met her gaze. She didn’t back down or even make a move