Hidden Realm: Legends of Lightning, #1

By T.R. Slauf

"The next Realm Walker will bring with them a storm. Lightning must fight the Crimson Shadow, or the lands will be cast into eternal darkness."

When she was a child, Esther was plagued with vivid nightmares. Now they have returned to haunt her. Bloodthirsty monsters chase her through a forest of dead trees while a mysterious hooded figure stalks her. After waking with fresh wounds from her dreams, Esther searches for the truth about who she is and the Hidden Realm she is destined to save.

Join Esther on her journey of self-discovery as she travels into a world long forgotten. Unsure if she can trust her hooded guide, she is hunted by unknown enemies and smothered by expectations of grandeur. Deciphering friend from foe she travels the lands, trying to unite kingdoms torn by pride.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.R. Slauf
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781734917765

T.R. Slauf

T.R. Slauf was born and raised in Michigan, originally studying and working in the field of Biochemistry. After having open-heart surgery for congenital heart disease, Slauf changed career paths to pursue the passion of storytelling and published their debut novel, Hidden Realm two years later. Slauf now lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with their spouse and two cats.

Book preview

PART I

Prologue

Silver moonlight fought its way through the thick fog, casting the woods in a hazy glow of silver. The air was stale and thick, filling his nose with the suffocating stench of decay. His heavy boots moved soundlessly over the hard ground as he navigated the Dead Wood, searching. His search felt like an eternity, the end hidden beneath the fog. The other Huntsman gave up hope long ago. There was little hope left in the lands anymore, only a fool’s hope. His hope.

The snapping of a branch echoed through the twisted dead trees. Raising his crossbow he surveilled his surroundings, listening. Holding his breath, the beating of his heart was the only sound he made. He saw them in the distance, the wolves. They were hideous creatures to behold with long, thin arms, patchy fur, and large snouts full of yellowed teeth that smelled of rot. Worst of all were their eyes, devoid of any compassion and glowing crimson.

The wolves claimed these woods after the great wars, but that was long before his time when the trees still lived. After they infested the forest everything died as if festering with an incurable poison. Now no leaves grew on the trees, their bark left hollow and dry. Humans no longer ventured here, and the inhabitants of villages bordering the woods migrated further south every year. But over the past few winters, the wolves had grown restless. On nights when the moon was full, they ventured away from the wood; each moon traveling further south, terrorizing the villages. A storm was coming, he could feel it. The threat of war hung over the horizon.

He slipped away unheard, disappearing among the trees. Unlike the other Huntsman, he didn’t go looking for blood nor vengeance against the monsters; he fought only when needed. For now, he needed to save his strength. He needed to keep searching. He couldn’t falter, not now—not with so much at stake.

Everywhere the wolves went they left a bloody trail and rumors of a Crimson Shadow, but that’s all they were, rumors. No one knew what it was or where it came from, even the name was an epithet. Some say it was a warrior, others said a sorcerer. Others, a creature of the deep caves or a poisonous fog. One thing was certain: where the Crimson Shadow was sighted a veil of darkness was cast, and the wolves were close at hand.

There were questions without answers while the threat grew in the darkness, so he continued to search when all others gave up. He searched the endless stretch of dead and twisted trees hoping for something, anything, that would lead him closer. The only information any of them had was a general location, with no idea of who or what they would find. But he knew it would be the one they were waiting for. One like the others from the legends of long ago—the one who would save them all.

Finding them was the land’s only hope of survival, and he could not fail. Not again. Once more, there was something within him telling him he was meant to be there. He was fated to be the idealistic fool who never gave up. Why else would he be the only one who kept looking, the only one who knew the Prophecy? Why hadn’t Blue told anyone else?

A streak of lightning flashed across the still sky. The twisted dead trees were illuminated in a flash of brilliant blue light, casting crooked shadows across the forest floor. His awareness heightened, nerves on edge. He stood listening, scanning his surroundings; he didn’t dare make a wrong move.

Branches broke and footfalls echoed around him. They were not the sounds of a wolf pack, but rather the unmistakable sounds of someone, something, stumbling lost through the wood. Heart pounding in his head, he ran through the maze of dead trees, his footfalls coming swiftly and silently from countless seasons of practice.

Drawing near the source of the noise he slowed, pulling his hood low over his face. Normally the Dead Wood was the one place he didn’t need to hide, but this was different. He followed the figure through the fog, and to his relief, he saw it was human.

A small woman in a strange manner of dress stumbled, grabbing at trees for support. No matter how many times her footing failed she picked herself up and continued to walk, determined to get wherever she was going.

His pounding heart slowed, and he felt an indescribable sense of peace watching her. Whoever she was, her spirit enamored him. Raven hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her pale skin glowed beneath the hazy moonlight.

Stepping forward, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Is it you, then? Have you finally arrived?

1. Nightmares

Pride and Prejudice

Astronomy 101

How to Train Your Dog

The Martian Chronicles

Pulling the books from the return bin at the front of the library, Esther read each of the titles carefully. It was a slow Monday morning and she was looking for inspiration. This was Esther’s favorite part of her job; she was surrounded by endless opportunities to become anything she desired without having to commit to being any one thing.

Some days she was a philosopher or an astronomer, learning all she could about the world around her. Other days she was a soldier, staging a rebellion against a tyrannical government, or she was a scholar finding clues in ancient artifacts racing against time to save the world. But on her favorite days, she was an adventurer on an unexpected journey to far-off lands full of magick.

With the return bin emptied Esther stood up, straightening her blue pencil skirt. Despite it not being the dress code, she always wore skirts and heels to work. Having never thought herself a great beauty, Esther decided long ago she could at least dress pretty. Her facial features were unusually sharp for a Chinese and Taiwanese girl, so she kept her hair long and wore it down to cover her insecurities.

Esther pushed the cart of books to the front desk, where she began the monotonous task of scanning the books into the system. She took comfort in the boring familiarity of the task, allowing her mind to wander everywhere and nowhere in particular. This was another thing Esther relished; her job and her life held a sense of boring predictability that gave her peace of mind.

Hey-ya!

Begrudgingly, Esther looked up from her daydream. The UPS man was beaming down at her. Joe was conventionally handsome and painfully ordinary. Esther didn’t think he’d ever had an original thought in his life.

I’ve got a package for ya. Just need your John Hancock right here. Joe handed Esther the clipboard, flashing her a smile. Esther forced a smile; it was a smile she wore often in public and it never reached her eyes.

How you doing today? Working hard or hardly working? Joe laughed.

I’m fine, Esther said, handing back the clipboard and taking the brown box in return.

Joe nodded and left, waving his hand in a mock salute.

She took the box into the back room for the library manager, Debbie. She didn’t know why, but Debbie loved to open boxes. She wasn’t about to deprive her of that joy.

Stifling a yawn, she returned to scanning and sorting books. She hadn’t slept well the previous night, or any night the week before. As a child, Esther always had vivid nightmares and would wake screaming and covered in a cold sweat. When she was eight, her family moved from the remote country town in the woods to the small city she still lived in, and the dreams inexplicably stopped. Twenty-one years later the nightmares returned worse than before.

A cold shiver ran down her spine at the foggy memory of monsters looming beyond her sight.

Esther—Debbie rushed to where Esther sat sorting books—the new shipment of first editions just arrived! I want you to work on one of the copies. Oh, you do read German, don’t you, dear?

Fluently, why?

Because this book isn’t in English. Oh, just come along and I’ll show you.

Eager for something new to read, she followed the chatting Debbie into the maze of back rooms. Her manager was a portly woman who always wore pink and smiled far too much. She didn’t understand how someone could always be so happy.

Debbie led Esther to a small room with excellent lighting and a small central table that was to be her workspace for the duration of the project. She pulled her long raven hair into a horribly crooked ponytail. With a defeated sigh, she pulled her hair out of its lopsided pony and braided it back instead.

Donning her gloves, she set to work unpacking the carefully wrapped book. To her delight, she saw the title read Kinder- und Hausmӓrchen: Children’s and Household Tales by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. She adored the original fairytales; she preferred the grittiness of the original stories over the silly cartoon adaptations.

She thoroughly appraised and cared for the book, delighted to read some of the tales.

Esther? Debbie said, knocking on her door. My goodness, are you still back here? It’s already past 4:30. You know we close early on Mondays. I admire your work ethic but I didn’t mean for you to finish the book tonight, you silly goose.

Is it that late already? Esther asked thoughtfully. I guess I got caught up in my work.

You always do. Now hurry and get your things. I’m locking up soon.

She quickly and carefully put the book away. She rushed off to grab her bag, then met Debbie at the front door. Walking to her car, she waved goodbye.

Esther’s apartment was close enough she could walk if she wanted, but with the return of her nightmares and sleepless nights, she decided to save time and drive.

In a daze, she parked her car and walked into the apartment building and up to the third floor. Eyelids heavy, she swayed, dangerously close to toppling over and falling back down the stairs.

Esther! Oh, good, I thought that was you. Marv burst from her apartment, making Esther jump.

Good evening, Marv. How are you? Esther said, yawing.

Ugh, listen to you, always so formal. You gotta loosen up, girl; live a little! Marv nonchalantly followed Esther into her apartment, a practice Esther was accustomed to by now.

Through no will of her own, Marv became the closest thing Esther had to a best friend. Marv stubbornly forced her friendship onto her, and she hadn’t cared enough to tell her to leave.

I live plenty, although not by your standards, Esther quipped.

There you go again, girl. You’re killin’ me! You know you got some serious sass underneath all those sweaters. Marv laughed at her own joke.

I told you, I wear sweaters because it’s cold in the library.

It’s cold because you’re five foot one and under a hundred pounds. Marv rolled her eyes.

Esther cursed under her breath. It was true, she was very petite and sometimes mistaken for a child in public—something she hated.

I didn’t come over here to talk to you about your attitude or your sweaters. I’m meeting my new girl at the club tonight, and I want you to come with us, have some fun.

New girl? What happened to—what was his name? Steve? Esther changed the subject.

Eh, I dropped him. He was too alpha male-y for my taste.

Esther laughed to herself. Marv always had a string of boys and girls in her life, inevitably finding something wrong with each after a few weeks.

Hey, don’t laugh, this girl could be the one!

Oh, really? You said the same thing about Mr. Alpha Male Steve not three weeks ago. I think you subconsciously sabotage all of your relationships. Some before they even start.

Oh, come on, don’t start with me. Besides, Ms. Librarian, when was the last time you gave anyone a chance?

Hmm ... I think I flirted with the mailman the other day.

You’re killin’ me, Esther. We gotta get you out of that library and out to meet some real people—some men.

I meet plenty of men. I just don’t pursue any of them because I’m simply not interested in dating.

You mean none of them match the overly masculine characters from those misogynistic books you love.

Esther sighed heavily. Marv was not entirely wrong. Literature gave her a high standard for men, but she grew tired of Marv’s constant political baiting. She was convinced if given the chance, Marv could find something to argue about with Mother Theresa.

Jane Austen wrote her books as satire, meant to mock the romance novels intended for the women of her time. She was a revolutionary, and a witty one at that.

Ugh. Fine, but still come out with me tonight. Maybe we can find you a real guy to play with.

I appreciate the invitation and your concern, Marv. Esther rubbed her brow; she was getting a headache. I’m really tired tonight, like, I’m about to fall over. Raincheck?

Yeah, sure, I knew it was a long shot anyway. Have a good night, Esther. I’ll catch ya tomorrow.

Have fun and be safe.

For sure. Don’t wait up for me, doll. Marv winked, closing the door behind her.

Esther didn’t know what she would do without her; for all her downfalls, Marv was still a good friend.

She pulled off her shoes and went further into the apartment. It was small, sparsely furnished, and stale.

Viktor? Esther called out. She didn’t know why, but Viktor always hid when Marv came over.

Meow.

Viktor came running from his hiding spot to greet Esther, his gray tail held aloft in the air, his ears alert.

Esther rescued Viktor from a dumpster during a lightning storm when he was a kitten. In her opinion, it was the most heroic act she’d done, or would ever do, in her life.

Hello, Viktor. Esther knelt on the floor, scratching his ears. Viktor purred in appreciation. How was your day? Did you escape and terrorize the neighborhood dogs again? She laughed at the memory.

Meow.

Esther proceeded to tell Viktor about her day while she fed him; he was the best listener she knew.

We got a new shipment of first editions in today, and they’re letting me do one all by myself. So that was exciting. And to make it even better the book is a Brothers Grimm and—

Meow!

Yes, the Brothers Grimm are one of my favorites, too.

Meow.

And I get to appraise a first edition. But I must have gotten carried away in all my excitement, and somehow lost track of time and ended up in the back room for hours without even realizing it. Esther stifled a yawn.

Meow!

Oh, Viktor, please don’t be like that. I’m not feeling very well and I’m too tired to play with you right now.

Meow.

When you finish your supper, you’re welcome to join me in bed. Esther was too tired to care about eating dinner. Despite the early hour, she left the kitchen and went to get ready for bed. On any other night she would have stayed up, cooking herself dinner and playing with Viktor, but tonight she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

No sooner did Esther lay her head down than she was asleep. A few minutes later Viktor joined her on the bed. He stared at her sleeping form, just as he’d done on the night Esther’s nightmares returned and every night since.

THE AIR WAS THICK WITH gray fog and the sky was darkening with the setting sun. Esther was surrounded by twisted trees whose leaves dropped long ago. The ground was cracking where roots twisted away from the trunks, desperate for water that wasn’t there.

She heard a noise; something was moving in the distance. A cold chill ran over her, and her hair stood on end. The stale air stood still around her. She wasn’t alone.

Unnerved, Esther stood alone with nothing but cold fog swirling around her. She was exposed. Making her way through the low branches and raised roots, she tried not to fall or make any noise. A sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach; someone or something was stalking her.

Panic crept through her; the forest of twisted trees never seemed to end. Her chest felt tight, and her breath came in shallow gasps as she ran blindly into the maze of trees. No longer being careful, Esther bounded through the trees, crashing and snapping branches as she went. Her hands shook; she was desperate to be free of the never-ending darkness of trees and fog swallowing her whole.

Esther’s foot caught on a root, and she fell hard to the ground. She pulled herself up, holding on to a branch to regain her footing.

Is it you, then? Have you finally arrived?

Esther turned to see a hooded man come out of the fog.

When he saw her, he stopped short. Based on your strange manner of dress, it must be you.

Esther now realized she was wearing her outfit from work that day, which she thought was very inappropriate for her present surroundings.

The man was talking just above a whisper, in a thick accent that reminded Esther of a Scotsman. His manner was gruff and he carried a crossbow in his left hand, among other weapons strapped to his belts. He came closer to Esther, but she couldn’t see his face beneath his hood.

Oh, it’s about bloody time, lass. We’ve been in bad straits here for a while, awaitin’ your arrival. I’m mighty glad you’re here now. The man rushed to greet her.

Esther jumped back. Excuse me, but who—who are you? And who exactly do you think I am? she asked.

You mean you don’t know?

Know? Know what?

No, this isn’t right. Bollocks, that must be why it took you so long to get here. All right, lass, listen to me. You’re in danger. I want to help you, but you’ve got to listen to me.

Listen to you? I just—I just met you, Esther said, raising her voice.

No, lass, please be quiet. I’m not here to hurt ya. Believe me, I’m the least of your worries in this forest. The wolves are lookin’ for you, and if you don’t know who you are that makes you vulnerable. Let me help you out of the forest. The man stretched out a hand to Esther.

Don’t—don’t touch me! Get away from me! Esther yelled, slapping the man’s hand away. She started to run again.

No, don’t! The man started running after her.

Her heart pounding and lungs burning, Esther dodged roots and branches. She changed direction without reason, becoming helplessly lost in her attempt to lose the man.

With her palms clammy and limbs shaking Esther leaned against a tree, desperate to catch her breath. She opened her eyes to look around herself. Satisfied she was alone, Esther left the tree, trying to regain her bearings. Determined to get herself out of the forest.

Esther’s blood ran cold, realizing there was something behind her. Hot, warm breath was on her neck. Slowly, she turned around. She looked up into a pair of horrible, glowing red eyes and a bloodied muzzle. Esther’s bone-chilling scream echoed through the dead trees.

ESTHER JOLTED UPRIGHT in her bed, heart racing. Her nightshirt clung to her clammy skin, her face slick with sweat. Viktor sat up, watching her compose herself.

Just a dream, it was just a dream, Esther said, rubbing her sweat-slick face. She’d woke with a headache.

Meow.

I think I’ve been reading too many fantasy books, Viktor. She reached forward, scratching Viktor’s ears. Maybe I should try some non-fiction today, clear out the subconscious.

Esther stretched and looked at her clock. It was 6:30 AM; she’d slept for over twelve hours. Getting up from bed and monotonously going through her morning routine, she thought nothing more of her dream. She took care to give Viktor extra attention between bites of her breakfast and while she was getting washed up.

With her head aching, Esther drove to work. She spent most of the morning cataloging and sorting books. In preparation to continue working on the Brothers Grimm, she tied her raven hair back into a braid and took several pain pills with a sports drink. The time she spent with the book passed uneventfully like the day before, but today she was able to read more of the stories.

Esther? Debbie knocked on the door. It’s late. If you keep working this hard I’m going to have to give you my job. How’s it going with the book?

It’s coming along well, but I think this edition may be a pre-first edition.

What do you mean, dear?

Well, the date in the book says May eighteen ten, but I know the first publication of the fairytales was in December eighteen twelve. Also, some of the details in the stories are different from the commonly accepted versions. For instance, instead of the birds scratching out the ugly stepsisters’ eyes, Cinderella removes them with her bare hands. And if you look here, there are handwritten notes in the margins made from two different handwritings.

Debbie looked at the notes Esther was pointing to. My gosh, you’re right. Are you thinking this was a sample book from the publisher before the final release?

It’s possible, Esther said,

Oh, that’s so exciting! Debbie clapped her stubby hands together.

But something about this book is odd. For one thing, there seem to be English translations in the back of the book. Why would German authors have English translations in their manuscript? And there are some notes here that don’t make sense; it’s almost like they’re talking about real events.

Oh, you know how authors get so wrapped up in their work. Debbie waved her hand dismissively. Good work, Esther. Now go home and enjoy your evening. You’re young, you work too hard.

Esther packed up the book, took off her gloves, and looked at her watch. She’d spent six hours in the back room with the book, but it only felt like moments. She wondered what was happening. How was she losing so many hours of her day without realizing it? Why was it taking this long for her to complete the book?

Esther was still contemplating the book when she got home. She vowed to finish her work tomorrow and put it all behind her.

Walking into the apartment building, Esther saw Marv checking her mail.

Good evening, Marv. How was last night?

Hey, girl, last night was so much fun. I didn’t even come home. How ‘bout you? Did the librarian have herself a one-woman party?

No, I was boring last night; I was in bed before six. I think I’ll be doing the same tonight. I woke up with a terrible headache and I’m still tired.

Ah, you probably got sick from all the damned kids at the library. You don’t have a fever, do you? Marv slapped her hand against Esther’s forehead.

No. And I’m not sure I have a cold, not yet.

All right, but take care of yourself; if you need it, take a day off. Believe it or not, the library will survive without you for one day. Okay?

Yes, of course.

I’m gonna head out for a bit. Call me if you need anything, ya hear?

Thank you, Marv. Esther waved goodbye, climbing the stairs to her apartment.

Viktor eagerly greeted Esther at the door. Meowing, he danced in small circles before coming up to rub her legs.

Well hello, Viktor. How was your day?

Viktor followed Esther into the kitchen, still rubbing against her legs.

I hope you had a better day than I did. For some reason, it’s taking me forever to finish working on that book. Every time I sit down with it, it’s almost like time warps.

Meow.

Well, it doesn’t help I have a headache and I still feel tired and worn out. I feel old, Viktor. What’s a girl to do?

Meow.

Maybe I am getting a cold ... That would explain why my workdays have been weird. I hope you stay healthy, Viktor; that would be a nightmare. Speaking of, I hope I don’t have another one tonight. Have you been having nightmares, too, Viktor? I suppose you can’t tell me if you had.

Esther pulled items out of her pantry and rummaged through her fridge while she talked, What shall we dine on tonight, Viktor? It looks like I have the makings for Tabbouleh, but I also have leftover pasta that needs to be eaten. What do you think, Viktor? Do you feel like cooking tonight? No, me neither.

Esther pulled out the pasta, scooped it into a bowl, and put it in the microwave.

Shall we see what we have in the Fancy Feast department? Ah-ha, you have the choice of ocean whitefish or shredded turkey. Which do you want, darling? Esther held the two cans down to Viktor; he sniffed each one and then rubbed against the shredded turkey. Poultry, a wise choice.

Sitting down to eat, Esther began to feel how tired she really was. Lazily finishing her food, her eyelids started drooping. Esther forced herself to clean her dishes before getting ready for bed.

Half dressed, she fell asleep atop her covers. Viktor came and stood over her, watching her sleeping face for several minutes before lying down himself.

ESTHER WAS DISTRAUGHT to find herself in the familiar forest of dead trees. This time the sky wasn’t as dark and the fog not as thick. She was again wearing the skirt and heels she wore to work. Irritated, she thought her dreams could at least let her wear hiking boots if they were going to leave her stranded in the woods.

Esther wandered the woods without seeing a single living creature. All was quiet around her, too quiet, and she grew uneasy. Esther tried to walk in a direction where the trees gave the illusion of thinning, determined to find her way out. She turned to look over her shoulder, afraid she would run into the hooded man again or, worse yet, the foul creature from last night.

Stumbling around a large tree in her path, Esther found herself face to face with several of the monsters with glowing red eyes like the night before.

They were almost eight feet tall if they stood fully upright, with long arms and legs ending in slender hand-like claws. Their ribs and spines showed through their taut and dirty skin, which was covered in patches of matted fur. Below their glowing red eyes, were snouts full of yellowed fangs that reeked of death.

Esther’s voice caught in her throat, staring wide-eyed in horror. There were four of them crowded around a once-living body, of what species Esther could not tell. A fifth one stood three feet in front of her, fresh gore matting its muzzle.

She was paralyzed with fear. The monster stood there, looking her in the eyes, thinking. Snarling, it reached out to grab her. An arrow pierced its head, splattering blood onto Esther’s face, its lifeless form falling at her feet.

Looking up from the kill she saw the hooded man. Crossbow in hand, he engaged the other creatures. Walking around them, he fired his weapon. His second and third arrows landed true, killing instantly. Of the two creatures remaining one leaped at the man, grabbing his neck and pulling him in close. Snarling in his face it ripped the crossbow from his hands, throwing it aside.

The man pulled a dagger from his belt, slamming it into the creature’s shoulder. The monster howled in pain. The man slammed his fist into the monster’s elbow, causing the creature to drop him to the ground.

Staggering to his feet the man stepped back, drawing a broadsword. The creatures flanked him, snarling, waiting for the kill shot to open. The man held his weapon firmly, unwavering in the face of danger.

The uninjured creature was the first to pounce, snarling, claws raised for the throat. In one smooth motion, the man shifted his feet, swinging his arms, bringing the blade across the creature’s body. Slicing it from hip to shoulder. It howled in pain, clutching its bleeding torso. The man advanced on the second creature, his dagger still protruding from its shoulder.

Esther couldn’t help but marvel at how the man danced with the monsters before him. In a few fluid movements, the man cut the second monster in half at the waist. He rounded on the other. The creature hunched forward, flexing its claws and baring its fangs. The man ran at it, swinging his blade across its neck, the severed head rolling onto his boot.

Kicking the severed head away from him, he gathered and cleaned his weapons.

Nice to see you again, lass.

The man’s voice broke Esther from her trance, and she realized she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

Will you please follow me this time, so I don’t have to keep runnin’ around here tryin’ to find ya again? It’s a lot harder than it looks, what with you disappearin’ and all. He stood in front of her, hood drawn low over his face.

Esther felt this was her cue to say something, to thank him for saving her. She tried to talk but she couldn’t force herself to open her mouth, let alone form words.

My name is Oisin, and I’m a Huntsman. It’s my job to kill the wolves and keep them from terrorizin’ the villages. He handed Esther a cloth to clean the blood from her face.

She extended a shaking hand.

Still not sure you trust me, eh? Oisin sighed. Well, I’m supposed to take ya to Grey Keep, that’s where myself and the other Huntsman live. I’m supposed to take you there and keep ya safe.

"W—why do you want to take me to this gray