Lanoya and the Teachers of Powers

By Midge Shoemaker

In the Kingdom of Espanglandya, some lucky few are born with one of the fifteen magic Powers. If so endowed, they’re expected to use that power in service to the people.
When Lanoya, an orphan living wild in her village, is accused of theft and taken away to endure the King’s justice, she knows nothing of how to live among others. The appearance of Lord Alon, one of the teachers of Powers, at the king’s court seems to save Lanoya from the dungeon...but it throws her into a world she’s completely unprepared to live in. There are rules she never learned, and nobody will explain. She’s even expected to sleep in the dark time and stay awake all day!
All the teachers are eager to test her abilities, and they talk about her becoming one of them, when all Lanoya wants is to be left alone to create her own kind of art, and find her place in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Electric Scroll
• Release date: Aug 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781946888228

Midge Shoemaker

Midge has explored North America, mostly as a semi-truck driver and traveled as far as Romania. Born in Arizona, she grew up in Utah, but never forgot her roots and moved back to Arizona. Everywhere she has gone or lived has given her time to escape reality and create her own little world.Midge wasn’t allowed to watch a lot of T.V. growing up, so she spent a lot of time reading books and making up bedtime stories for her siblings and friends at sleepovers.Midge loves God, serving in her church, and her family, both biological and adopted. Midge is a member of American Night Writers Association. Check out her YouTube channel, where you’ll find tips and tricks for becoming a better you.

Book preview

Lanoya

and the

Teachers of Powers

A Land Divided

Book 1

Midge Shoemaker

Copyright 2023, Midge Shoemaker Creations, LLC.

Cover illustration copyright 2023, Jenefer Hall, used by permission.

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by The Electric Scroll. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the publisher. For information contact The Electric Scroll via email at [e-mail].

The characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and entirely in the imagination of the reader.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

1 – An Orphan

2 – The Palace

3 – All Clean

4 – Meeting the King

5 – A New Place to Live

6 – Lessons in the Chapel

7 – A Secret Place

8 – A Competition

9 – A New Friend

10 – Drawing Supplies

11 – The Tapestries

12 – A Voice Within

13 – Failed Escape

14 – A Masterpiece

15 – The Circle of Stones

16 – Chosen

17 – Thirays

18 – The Alley

19 – A Choice

20 – Lady Edwyma's Flowers

21 – The Teachers of Powers

22 – Experimenting with Powers

23 – A Secret Place

Espanglandya Dictionary

Teachers of Powers

Powers of the Land

About the Author

Connect with Midge online

Dedication

To my friend and mentor Betsy Love, who taught me how to write to readers.

And to my friend Alma for being my personal cheerleader when it comes to my writing.

Chapter 1

An Orphan

Lanoya shivered under her tattered blanket. Is the light gone already? She slid her arm away from her face. Sure enough, the light was fading. The orphan yawned and stretched out her arms and legs.

I wonder what things the people will leave out for me to create with? Her fingers danced in anticipation. A tingling sensation ran down her arms, and her eyes widened. She soaked in the last rays of light as they climbed the wall of her alley.

She smiled and peered toward the end of the alley that opened onto the streets of Thirays, a small village in the Kingdom of Espanglandya. Lanoya did not see anyone, although she heard shouting and clanging noises indicating the village had not yet gone to sleep.

A tall, skinny, older boy came running into the alley, tripped over her, and fell flat on his face. He flipped over to his back and scooted into some broken crates along the wall. Daft orphan. What did you trip me for? He pricked his hand on a shard of wood. Ow! You and all your cursed trash are going away.

Lanoya pulled her legs into her chest and rubbed her ankle. She glared at the cruel boy and pointed at the street. Get out.

The boy scoffed. I am going to be praised by the villagers for ridding them of you and your curse. He grabbed her blanket with his bloody hand, then he shoved a broken crate toward her and hid under the blanket.

Lanoya stood up. I am not leaving. This is my alley. The villagers insist this is my home. There is always food by the bakery in the even, and each season someone leaves me new clothes. Three moons ago I found these trousers, and this shirt in my alley.

The boy poked out his head. Keep quiet. I cannot be seen speaking with you. He ducked back under her blanket.

It is my blanket. It is the one thing my parents must have left for me. It has been here as long as I have. If he does not want to be around me, he should not be in my alley.

Lanoya reached for the blanket, but was stopped by strong, thick fingers pressing into her arm; she was yanked away from the boy and her blanket. The scrawny girl turned her head to find a man's bushy face and ice-cold blue eyes boring into hers. Are you the rat what's been stealing my leathers?

She shook her head. Leathers? What do I need leathers for?

He grabbed her other arm and shook her. You best not be lying to me, you little annoying orphan. I will take you to the palace myself and see you is properly punished unless you returns my leathers.

The girl dug her heels into the ground, and leaned away from the creepy man, struggling to free herself from his grip. "Let me go. I promise, I do not know anything about your leathers. I have been sleeping all sun in the alley. Ask that stupid boy that took my blanket."

The man snarled, and spit. Your aunt was right to puts you here. Eleven seasons and you still a little annoying liar what nobody wants. He yanked the orphan up, shoved her under one of his arms and carried her out of the alley.

Lanoya pushed against the man's broad chest. Aunt, what aunt? I do not have an aunt. I do not have any family. No one in the village wants anything to do with me. I am known only as the little annoying orphan. There is only me, my alley, and my blanket.

He squeezed her closer to him and pressed her face into his musty shirt. She could taste the dirt. I do not know who that troublesome boy was, but this is all his fault.

The man threw her into a cart. Lanoya tried to scramble out of it, but he yanked her back down and wrapped a rope around her waist. The man pulled her hands behind her and tied them to the wooden slats on the side of the wagon with the same long rope that was around her waist. He shouted. I be taking this thief to the palace. I be back on the morrow. There was no reply.

Lanoya stared at the ugly man bounding around the wagon to the front. The boy in my alley was wrong. The people in the village are not celebrating that I am being forced from my home. I doubt they would care if I stayed either. She caught a glimpse of the baker woman before the wagon jerked forward. The baker turned her back on the orphan, as did all the other people as they passed.

The bony orphan girl bounced up and down and the rope cut into her wrists. I used to watch the wagons roll by and imagine how fun it would be to ride in one. This is not fun at all. I would rather be in my alley with my blanket, drawing the life I imagine in the alley's mud.

She focused on the wooden structures they passed to avoid the pain in her wrists. A dim haze on the horizon outlined the structures in Thirays. The tingling sensations returned, masking the pain from the ropes.

Lanoya's eyes opened wider. The lines on the homes stood out the way the wall in her alley did. The houses are all similar, the only differences are the heights of the fences in front. Nothing worth imitating, or recreating. Once I made a sparkly, little house, with lots of roofs, and windows. I used different cloths, bits of wood, and mud. I left it out to thank the villagers for the stuff they leave for me to create with. They got angry, kicked it, stomped on it, and threw the pieces at me.

She sighed. The smidgen of remaining light did not reveal any more color to her dull village than was visible in the even sky. The girl searched the heavens for the stars, which was difficult while bouncing in the wagon. None sparkled yet.

The route they traveled was not lit. Dark shadows lined the road. All she could hear was the clump of the horse's hooves. The ropes dug deeper into her wrists with each bounce of the cart. I wish the tingling would come back, so the pain would go away.

Her face felt hot with anger, and she twisted her hands trying to remove the ropes. I did not steal anything. I only take what the villagers do not want. Some throw things in the alley for me. That is where I should be. Or I could be sneaking across the path for the crumbs by the baker's house, or scraps the dogs have not gotten to. Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

Once free of this ugly old man, I am going home to my alley. I hope no one else messes about with my creations. The villagers will destroy my work if they find it. My stuff is not cursed like that boy said. I have to return before it is all gone. She blinked back the angry tears.

The long bumpy cart ride came to an abrupt stop. The spry orphan would have slid out were it not for the rope holding her in place. I will be escaping the moont he unties me.

The man mumbled to himself. The palace gate be closed. Now, I has to take the thief to the guard.

The child positioned herself to jump once she was free of her bonds. I am not going to the guard or the palace. I refuse to be punished for this.

The cruel man removed the rope from her hands, but it was still tied around her waist. She sprang from the cart, but he yanked her back with the rope. Her stomach knotted from the pain.

The man's disgusting breath moistened her ear. You is not going anywhere, girl. I is taking you to see the King his self.

The orphan cringed and jerked away from him. He tugged the rope, dragging her toward the palace walls and its guard.

Fire burned atop each corner of the walls, illuminating the dark road, casting shadows on the gate, and catching her attention. A large set of doors stood, closed, in the center of the towering wall.

Energy flowed through her. It is magnificent. I must etch it into the ground, or build a smaller version of it. But how?

The girl's fingers rubbed against the itchy rope in search of the knot to release its hold on her. If I could get away, I could find supplies to create. Her hands shook from the energy growing inside her. I do not recall my energy being this intense. It must be all the new things for me to imitate.

She searched the area; the need to create equaled her desire to escape. I saw trees along the path. Perhaps there are more I can hide in, and maybe I could use the branches to make something.

The cruel man tugged the rope; the pain zapped the energy out of her, and she was forced to follow him to the palace gate.

Chapter 2

The Palace

A chill ran down the girl's spine, and her arms tingled. Everything here is so different. This place is so beautiful. If I could find a place to sleep, like my alley, I could draw a life for myself here. I would need my blanket, and something to keep the wind at bay.

The wall bulged out on either side of the gate. A shadowy figure emerged from the crevice it created. A man spoke. King Elfredo is not seeing anyone else this even. Come back on the morrow sun.

The burly villager shoved the orphan forward. I caught this thief. Her took my leathers. I be taking her to sees the king.

The sentinel rubbed his chin. A thief? I am certain the king will see her punished on the morrow.

The cruel man grabbed the girl's long tangled hair. Hers a little annoying thief what keeps trying to get away. I am not holding onto hers all even. So you let me take hers to the king.

The guard laughed. Are you sure that is a girl? It is hard to tell under all the dirt and rags it is wearing.

The wily orphan dug her fingernails into the villager's rough hand until he screamed and released her hair, and the rope. She took off running. Wretched, smelly man! I am not a thief, and I am not going to get locked up for something I did not do.

Lanoya paused and surveyed her surroundings, fighting the energy that enhanced the lines and crevices in her view. The desire to draw her surroundings intensified.

I need a place to hide, somewhere I can draw, and not be discovered by anyone. I know all the nooks and crannies in my village. This place is so vast and open. The trees; maybe I can hide there.

The girl ran past the wagon, across the path. A vague outline of trees, or shadows materialized. I am almost there. She forgot about the rope around her waist until it pulled her stomach into her back and she doubled over in pain.

The guard leaned in so close, his prickly whiskers scratched her cheek. That man was right about you escaping. Does that mean he is right about you being a thief, too?

Tears streamed down her face. She shook her head, unable to respond.

The gruff sentinel stood up. I guess I am stuck with you until the morrow. You can tell your story to the king. He tugged at the rope. You can come willingly, or I will drag you.

Lanoya stubbornly folded her hands over her stomach. The familiar energy that distracted her from the pain and allowed her to escape into her creations was gone. Her insides were hollow, tears streamed down her cheeks, and she struggled to breathe. I am trapped, nothing and nowhere to escape and sketch. I hate that stupid boy. If I see him again, I am going take my blanket back and tie him to a wagon and watch him bounce until the light is gone!

The man from the village came up to them, panting. Give hers to me. I needs to take her to the king.

The guard shook his head. I will find a place to lock her up for the even. You can return on the morrow sun to see the king.

The foul man growled. She best be here on the morrow. Else I tells the king you let her go.

The sentinel tugged at the rope around the girl's waist, and she trudged behind him. He led her to an old door next to the gate. A spark ignited in her fingers and she ran them along the frame. Lanoya smiled. It is not completely gone; maybe I can still draw something.

The guard pulled on the rope. That door is old and noisy. It will tell me if you try to escape. The gate is too big and heavy for you to open alone.

She glanced up at him, then returned to surveying the door. I was not thinking about escaping. Should I be searching for a way out? Her insides tingled and lines in the designs were more prominent. This place is more interesting than Thirays.

Inside the palace wall was a large open space.