Dreams: A Realm Novel, #1

By D.A.Marz

Elwic always wanted to be a hero, just like the ones in the books he read. As a farmer's son, he was always away from the wars that plagued the lands of Terra. Little did he know that adventure would come knocking on his door, and his peaceful life would be thrown into the darkness, seeping into the world. Elwic will have to decide whether to face his demons, become a hero, or fall into chaos.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Duncan Martinez
• Release date: Jan 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798988649090

Book preview

Prologue

Elwic was a farmer's son with a warrior's mind. He had grown up on a farm swinging a stick around like a sword, pretending he was fighting dragons and monsters. He was probably like this because he had grown up learning about the armies of mighty warriors who fought people who wanted to cause death and destruction. He always wanted to become a soldier in the army, but the problem was that he needed to be taller, standing at only five feet four inches. He was small for his age; most elves that were sixteen years old were closer to six feet tall. He hoped to grow taller when he turned sixteen in a few weeks. Most men and women in the armies were tall and muscular. Elwic expected that he was this height because of his parents. His mother was an elf and was a little over six feet tall. This was about the standard measurement for an elf, though high-born elves were usually taller than six feet tall. She was not a high-born; she was known as a lesser elf to the snobby, high-class beings. His father was human and was about five feet six inches tall. Elwic's father was not the tallest human in their village but was not the smallest. The human race was interesting because humans come in all different shapes and sizes; some were heavier than others, some were taller, and some were stronger. The elves were not like that, though; elves were always lean and fit. Even half-elves like Elwic were strong.

Elwic always thought he was more elf than human because when he worked on his family's farm, he could work well into the night when most humans would have tired well before the sunset. Elwic's elven heritage granted him strength and stamina that humans did not possess. Elwic only worked into the night occasionally because he would be very sore the following day. Elwic often would blame this on his human side but knew this was not true because his mother frequently reminded him that all creatures, even elves, would eventually run out of strength. He did not care that he was small for his age or even a half-elf because he knew that deep within him was a fire and that he could do anything he set his mind to. His brother, Alamor, always inspired him to fight, strive to be the best, and help anyone in need.

... ∞ ...

Most nights in the farmhouse were peaceful, with only the soft sounds of the animals in the distance. The rustle of the leaves in the trees and the sound of the grass moving made it easier for Elwic to sleep. This night was different, though. Elwic lay in his bed after a long day of work. His whole family had been busy, with his mother and brother in the fields picking food and his father out hunting. Elwic's job was to cut firewood. They had all spent the day getting ready for the coming winter. Elwic's mind and body were exhausted from the long day. When he got to his room, he did not even bother to undress; he just collapsed into his bed. He was so tired that he brought the wood-cutting axe to bed. Despite the weariness in his muscles, he could not put his mind at ease with the night being so eerily quiet. Something was in the air, telling Elwic that he should get up and prepare for this long night.

He sat on his bed, letting his legs hang off the edge, and looked around, the little whisper in the back of his mind not letting him drift off to sleep. His room was small, which was common for the bedrooms in a farmer's house. Most of the money made from leftover food they could sell went towards more seeds and tools for the following year. Elwic's family made enough money to keep food on the table and the house from falling over. However, they needed to make more to add anything significant to the home. Elwic was okay with the house size because there was enough room for him to move around, but it was still small enough that getting from one place to the other was easy. The house was two stories tall and made entirely out of oak wood that had been darkened from the weather. What used to be a light brown house was closer to gray and black now. Every year, the family inspected the home, patching the walls and the spots of wood that seemed to be weakened from the rainwater that had soaked in. Last month, Elwic had helped his father clear out the spare room to make it into storage for the winter supplies. All the food and furs they would need to survive would be stored there. The three bedrooms were all located upstairs. Downstairs, a kitchen was attached to the dining room and the spare room, all of which could be accessed from the entryway.

The majority of the rooms were painted the same color green. This was because the person who sold paint in the village usually had tons of green paint. They had bought a lot of it one year to give the inside of the house a more excellent color than the outside. His favorite room was the only one that was a different color. The dining room was navy blue, which Elwic had been gifted for his twelfth birthday. He was given a bucket of blue paint, and his mother and father expected him to paint his own bedroom. Elwic decided that the dining room should be painted so the whole family could enjoy the blue color. Elwic also loved the dining room because his family sang songs, told stories, and played card games. He spent a lot of time in that room with his family.

Elwic's room was lovely; the bed was made from straw, and he was lucky enough to have a dresser with two drawers. He also had a small handheld mirror and a few books stacked on the floor. The sheets on his bed were tattered and ripped; because of this, he had gotten skilled at sewing. He had nicer clothes than a lot of farmers in the area. His boots were patched in places, but his pants and tunic were in good condition. He usually worked without a shirt on so that they would not get damaged and his clothes would last longer. This would usually mean that he got home with cuts and bruises that would have been stopped by a tunic. He did keep a tunic on for cutting wood, though, because of the number of bugs that were out at this time of year. The heat was uncomfortable, but he was sure that the bugs would have sucked him dry without something to cover him.

A rumble came from the doorway to the house, causing Elwic to jump. He knew it was not the wind because there was not any. He knew it could not be his brother either because Alamor was asleep in the room next to his. His parents were still awake and downstairs, so maybe it was them. Elwic opened his door and cautiously moved down the hallway. He peered down at the front door when he reached the top of the stairs. His father and mother were approaching the door slowly. His mother looked up the stairs and caught Elwic's eye. She waved her hand at her son, telling him to stay where he was. His father reached the door and called out.

Who is there? What do you want?

Elwic's heart skipped a beat as he heard a male voice reply, We are just some travelers; it is late, and we are lost. We were hoping you could point us toward the nearest village.

Just follow the road to the east, and you will encounter a human settlement. They can give you lodging for the night and point you to the nearest town. It is only about two miles down the road. Elwic's mother said. She had a sweet voice; it was the kind of voice that would stop a crying baby. It was so calm and sweet that it was common for birds to fly closer to her rather than away. When Elwic was incredibly young and had a nightmare, his mother would sing him a lullaby that could help put him back to sleep.

My daughter's leg is broken. Can we at least come in and look at it in the light? A woman's desperate voice came from behind the door.

Elwic watched his parents, but he could no longer hear them. Based on their rigid body language and fast-talking, Elwic assumed they were arguing about what to do. Knowing his parents, he assumed his mother wanted to help the travelers, and his father was weighing the possibility of these strangers being more sinister than they first appeared. Having come to a decision, Elwic's father opened the door a bit and said,

Alright, I will let you in, but I want your hands where I can see them, understood?

We understand, sir. The woman's voice came in reply.

Alamor came out of his room and hurried down the hall. As he reached Elwic at the top of the stairs, their father opened the door the rest of the way to allow the travelers to enter. The brothers' eyes grew wide when they heard a sickening thud and saw the arrow sticking out of their father's chest. Their father began to yell a warning to his family, but before the boys could react, they watched a sword slice through their father's chest, the blade glistening with red blood. Elwic's mother screamed and turned to run, but before she could move an inch, a silver edge cut through her front side. Elwic saw blood trickling down the blade before it was pulled out, and another blade was shoved through her back as she fell to the ground. Alamor grabbed Elwic by the shirt collar and pulled him down the hallway into Elwic's bedroom. Alamor pushed the dresser in front of the door, creating a barricade. They could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, pausing briefly and continuing down the hallway. Elwic was in shock. He had never seen a human or elf die before. He thought of the animals he had killed in the past, but that was for food, and it was different. Elwic replayed the events in his head. Moments ago, his family had all been alive in their quiet house, and now his parents were dead, and he had watched it happen. Alamor looked at Elwic and said,

Snap out of it, little brother; we aren't going to survive if you don't snap out of it.

Elwic recoiled at the tone he had never heard his brother use before. It was the tone a parent uses when their child is in danger. Elwic remembered his father using the same tone when he was young. It was Elwic's first time hunting, and he had begun approaching a pack of wolves in the forest. Elwic's father used a cautionary tone and told Elwic that the wolves would attack if they were frightened. Elwic stood there looking at Alamor wide-eyed, his mouth slightly open. Then he heard a thwack as his brother's hand made contact with his right cheek.

Ha! Why did you do that? Elwic said, rubbing his reddening face.

Welcome to the land of the living; time to go, little brother. People are out to kill us, Alamor said as he moved quickly across the small room and pushed Elwic's bed out of the way, revealing a trap door.

Elwic continued to stare, and his jaw dropped again. How long has that been there? And where does it go? Elwic asked, still in disbelief.

I had it made when you and father redid the spare room downstairs. I had a feeling thugs would be moving into this area. I have noticed a lot of troops wearing the symbol of the crow on their chests. I am glad I did because I noticed the same symbol on these people. They are not your average thieves. It looks like someone wants our family dead, Alamor said.

Elwic and his brother hopped down the trap door and into the spare room on the lower level of the house. They quickly approached the door, and Alamor poked his head out to look for the intruders. When he announced that the coast was clear, they moved out of the spare room and started moving towards the dining room entrance. They were not going to go out the front door after seeing the arrow fly in and kill their father. They were in the hallway near the dining room when they heard one of the intruders yell.

Hey! They are down there.

As the loud footsteps grew closer, Alamor pulled Elwic's arm and pushed him into the dining room. Elwic spun around at the sound of Alamor's scream, and he saw his brother take a blade to the shoulder. Alamor swung a fist into the intruder's face and grabbed the sword out of the man's hand. As he turned around to follow Elwic into the dining room, another sword came downwards into his back.

Elwic dragged his brother the rest of the way into the dining room and pushed the intruder backward into the entryway. Elwic and Alamor got through the doorway of the dining room. Elwic slammed the door closed behind them. Elwic pressed against the door to stop the intruders from pushing it back open. Alamor told Elwic to back up, and as he obeyed and jumped back, the large black bookcase that was next to the door was pushed over by his brother to create another barricade. The books came off the shelves and scattered across the floor. Within seconds, there was slamming on the other side of the bookcase. The brothers stepped back and looked at each other. An arrow came flying through the window, and Alamor tackled Elwic to the ground and pulled him into his lap.

A foreign smell entered his nose as Alamor covered Elwic's mouth with his hand. It was an iron smell, one that seemed familiar. A memory surfaced of hunting with his father and brother. His brother's hand smelt like sweat and blood, and as Elwic lay perfectly still, he could feel it shaking a little. Elwic could not talk, and it was hard for him to breathe. Elwic's brother had crimson-red blood rolling down his shoulder from the gash that was made when he faced the intruder in the doorway. Elwic turned his head and shuddered as his eyes fell upon the bone sticking out of the wound, and he was amazed at how stoic his older brother was. Alamor was a true big brother, never showing pain on his face until he knew no one was watching.

The dining room table was big enough to hide the two of them behind it. The floor was white wood aside from a splotch of blood from Alamor's wounds. Elwic had painted the floors last year for his mother's birthday. She had spoken fondly about how her mother's old house had white marble floors. Elwic could not afford to get the floor's material changed, but he could pay for two buckets of white paint to change the color himself. His mother was so happy; his father probably would have killed him for doing the project without permission if it were not for how happy his wife was.

Elwic readjusted and felt a stinging pain in his leg. He was unsure what it was until he looked down and saw a shard of glass from the bookcase's glass door lodged in his leg. Alamor's faint voice distracted Elwic from his wound.

Elwic, listen really close....do everything I say.....understand?

Alamor was clearly trying to be strong for his younger brother, but the gash was bleeding worse, and his voice was growing weaker. The blood now looked like a waterfall coming down his upper arm, the wound tearing open further with every slight movement. As Alamor placed his hand on the shard of glass in Elwic's leg, Elwic could see more bone in Alamor's arm being exposed.

I am... going to remove the shard from your leg... and take my hand.... off your... mouth... do not scream...we cannot let them know that both of us are in pain. Once I remove the glass, take that cloth on the ground and wrap your leg. You are not a stranger to wrapping wounds, so I know you can take care of it.

His brother removed his hand from Elwic's mouth and used it to yank the glass out of his leg. Elwic grabbed the cloth and wrapped the wound tight to put pressure on it and help stop the bleeding. Alamor took his good arm and spun Elwic around so that they were face to face. Elwic could see the panic in Alamor's eyes and hear the strain in his voice. Elwic's brother was named after their grandfather. Alamor was the name of the great Elvish warrior, which is why his parents gave the name to their first son. He was always the strong one in the family, and when he joined the human armies, no one was surprised that he was interested in serving. He was tall and built for combat. He was half-human and half-elf, so he was already more muscular than most of the full-blooded humans who served in the army. Everyone in the house praised him because few elves liked to deal with humans. Elves usually did not deal with human armies because elven armies adopted stricter discipline and discipline that human bodies could not handle. Elwic and his brother were half-elves, which most people call low elves. Even though Alamor was a low elf, he was expected to serve in an elven army, not a human one, so many people were shocked when he joined up with the humans.

Alamor's breathing was off just so. Elwic thought about hunting with his father and brother and remembered how they tried to make clean kills. If they shot an animal and did not make a clean kill, they would approach the animal and quickly end its suffering with a knife. Elwic was saddened by the realization that his usually big, strong brother looked like one of those animals who just wanted their pain to end. His body was torn up and looked like it was going to fall apart, but through it all, his brother's face was stoic. He looked like a hero. Looking into his brown eyes, Elwic could tell his brother was only fighting and being strong right now because he had two lives to consider: his and his younger brother's. Alamor pulled the jeweled knife off his belt. It was a carved blade with an opal jewel at the end of the golden hilt. He grabbed  Elwic's hand and set the knife in it. The weight of the blade was unfamiliar as this was the first time he had ever held a knife that was used for more than just skinning or gutting an animal. At first glance, Elwic expected it to weigh a lot more, the same as a large rock. However, it only weighed about as much as a feather, maybe even lighter.

Take this... This is father's knife... He gave this to me... When I turned..... Sixteen... Alamor said, his breaths becoming ragged.

Elwic could tell every word he said was a struggle; he needed to take a long gasp of air to get any words out.

I... Think it will.....be better in your... hands..... now that you are almost sixteen.... Alamor said and then hesitated as he looked around the room. I am going.... to run to.... the door to the dining room... Alamor said, rising slightly.

He closed his eyes and took a long breath before spinning around to face the door. Elwic saw the giant gash from the sword and did not understand how he could still talk, let alone move around. Elwic knew Alamor was being strong for him like a big brother would. He could tell that Alamor knew that the only way he would save Elwic was to be strong and hold it together. Elwic knew he was right; he was only holding it together because of his brother.

I... will move to the door... when I do so... you get off your ass... move to the window..... jump out the window..... stay to the woods... stay away from the nearest village.... they are going to push the door open soon.

Alamor gripped the short sword at his feet and stood like something out of a hero's novel. The blood from his arm poured onto the floor, and he was white as snow.

Keep moving.....do not stop for anyone.... He said in a very stern voice. Do not sit... and wait.... for mother.... father.... or I......you saw father and mother die.... and I'm not long for this world. Elwic struggled to hear his brother's weakened voice over the intruder's attempts to break down the barricade blocking the dining room door.

He raised his blood-soaked hand and wiped something from under his eyes. Elwic could have sworn it was a tear, but he would not say anything. His brother needed Elwic to be quiet now. Blood was now covering Alamor's face. He looked down at the sword and then at Elwic. All three of us will be dead... His voice dropped off as he fell to his knees, hacking up blood.

What was once a bright white floor was now covered with crimson-red blood that glinted in the moonlight coming through the windows.

You have to stay alive.... for all of us....... do whatever it takes.... to survive....

Alamor lived up to his great elven name as he looked at Elwic, then stood again and moved toward the door. Elwic did as he was told and crouched at the window, ready to pounce out of it. Elwic glanced over his shoulder and looked at his brother, waiting for him to make a move or look back at him. Nothing happened, and Elwic realized his brother would only do something once Elwic was ready. If he had made a move before Elwic did, he would have been putting his younger brother at risk. Elwic saw his foot on the bookcase and knew he would push it out of the doorway. He knew he could not do what he needed if he stayed longer. He turned his head, wiped away his tears, and jumped out the window.

Elwic landed on the ground with a light thud. As he stood up, he heard a few screams, and then there was just silence. Elwic crouched and made his way to the woods, stumbling a bit as he went. Then Elwic heard yells coming from the house. The intruders were yelling at each other; it sounded like they were looking for something. It sounded like they were looking for him. One of the intruders yelled, Where is the other brat? Then everything was silent; the owls usually heard at night were not making a sound. The silence was too creepy for Elwic's liking. He waited a few moments to ensure there was no movement outside the house and then vanished into the woods. He needed to distance himself from the home because they would start looking in the woods once they realized he was not there anymore.

Chapter 1

Elwic awoke from his dream sweaty and even more exhausted than when he had fallen asleep. He knew it was morning now because the sun was starting to show itself through the elm trees. It had been a little over two and a half years now since he had to evacuate his home. He was not near his family's farm. He was no longer near the villages that he used to venture to. He was not sure how far he had gone. His movement was constant now. Typically, he did not stay in one place for too long. He was now in the deep forest. Elwic's camp was small. He had made a small hut by pushing sticks and branches against the side of the tree. He had gotten good at making them now that he was on the move. He only used it when sleeping and to keep out of the rain. His fire pit was very minuscule. It gave him just enough heat during the night but not so much of a flame that it would alert people to where he was. Elwic needed it that way because he still felt in his gut that someone was after him. Elwic would have fallen back asleep, but he no longer had the luxury of taking a day off to relax. He could not depend on anyone to bring home food for the night and other simple things he had taken for granted. He was alone now, and he oversaw getting food for himself. It had been over two years since that dreadful day. Elwic frequently had the same dream; almost every night, it was the memory of his family dying. He tried to get his mind off what happened but never fully could. His brother had told him stories about how he remembered his fellow soldiers dying in battles they had fought in. Elwic never realized what he meant until now. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw one of two things: his family being slain or the color purple.

Elwic was almost sixteen when he watched his parents get hacked down in front of him, and he was nearly sixteen when his brother handed him a weapon and told him to run. Maybe it was the guilt; he could have fought with Alamor. He only saw a few of them, and Elwic and Alamor knew the house layout better than the intruders. Maybe the both of them could have gotten out and to safety if Elwic had stayed. Perhaps they could have even saved his parents. Elwic saw them get cut down, but he watched his brother take the same kind of damage, and Alamor was still alive. They were surrounded by intruders, and there was a massive amount of blood on the floor, but who was to say that they had died?

For all Elwic knew, as he was running away in the woods, his parents may have gotten up and were still alive, and maybe they could have driven the intruders out. Maybe his brother could fight the intruders off, get to their parents, and help them. Alamor had fought in battle surely; he could fight the intruders. Maybe all three of them were alive and well. He did not know if his family was dead, and that was the only hope that drove Elwic to stay alive. Elwic wanted this to be the case; he wanted to just say everything was going to be all right. He had returned to the house a few days later and saw that the intruders were still there. They had not left and that they were looking for something. He had gotten a glimpse of the intruder's armor during his visit. It was red and black with a crow stamped on it. Elwic had not seen any bodies or any evidence that the intruders had buried or burned any bodies since the fight. Though Elwic's gut told him that his family was dead, the lack of seeing anybody did give him a little hope that they had gotten away. His parents were strong and could handle their own in a fight. Elwic remembered when he was around ten, and his town was in the middle of a terrible war. He watched his parents enter the battle while his brother stayed home with him. When his parents returned home, they were talked about by everyone. People referred to them as the farmers who were brave like warriors. He was told stories about his family charging into battle, taking out one enemy after another. Elwic had also gone hunting with them all the time growing up. His dad was skilled with a bow, and his mom was quick on her feet and could take on any threat. It was common for them to bring home wolves and bears when they went hunting in the deep woods. When Elwic went hunting with them, they would stay closer to the house and hunt more minor animals. As years passed and his father got older, his parents did not go out hunting as much. Humans aged and rarely lived past the age of eighty or ninety. Elves were immortal and lived forever; the undying race, people called