The Silent Dawn: Heroes of Kalwyn, #2

By M. J. Rogers

For those with tremendous power, the line between magic and miracle can become indistinguishable.

Two years after the events of Red Stained Wood, Kalwyn is slowly healing. However, even as buildings are rebuilt and order is restored, some seek to exploit the victims and perpetrators of that crisis.

Penny Meadows is now a student at the Arcane University of Kalwyn, increasingly frustrated by the refusal of her peers to allow her to graduate. When Rigel, now working for the Crown, causes a diplomatic incident, he is suspended from his role.

Rigel is given an opportunity to prove himself by investigating the death of a young woman who had joined a new cult: the Vivid Dawn. As the leader of the cult is a former student of the University, Penny is sent with Rigel to monitor the group, accompanied by their friends Gordax and Megan.

In the snowy mountain town of Blackpeak, Penny and Rigel must learn about the Vivid Dawn and its ultimate purpose. At the same time, they are forced to confront their own painful memories. Their struggle to uncover the truth is jeopardised when Rigel faces a crisis closer to home.

The Silent Dawn is the second novel in the Heroes of Kalwyn series by Welsh fantasy author M J Rogers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bridge 98 Books
• Release date: Jan 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798230689065

Book preview

CHAPTER I - Wreckage

The ship swayed back and forth at the mercy of a hostile sea. The storm hadn’t subsided in days and the constant percussion of rain on wood brought misery to those on board. It was night and only the most essential crewmen could be found above deck. Other than those, one man had ventured outside, having needed a brief respite from the noise of the crowd. There had been hours of shouting, swearing and dying, with each casualty punctuated by a roar from the audience. Outside, there were rain, waves, and the occasional groans of somebody traumatically emptying his stomach into the sea. The lone man grunted, quickly growing tired of the scene above deck, and walked back inside, using a sleeve to wipe the rain from his hairless head.

Two mercenaries were discussing the night’s violence and glared at him as he passed between them. He ignored them. The ship was inhabited by the wealthy and influential and their retinues, a stark contrast of bought dignity and hired thugs. The man had once walked a similar path, accepting whatever work would put food on his table, but those days were gone. He was struck by a wall of noise as he approached the fighting pit and walked around its edge. From the corner of his eye, he saw an unfortunate loser being dragged away from the carnage. A mage was sitting alone in a corner, a large hood shading her face other than her pale chin. She acknowledged the man with a nod as he continued to the fighters’ quarters. He hammered his hefty fist on the door.

It’s time, he shouted.

The door swung open and an armoured figure emerged, matted brown hair dangling from beneath a battle-scarred bronze helmet that concealed his face. The fighter wore a sword on his back. How do I look? he asked in a muffled voice.

Like you’ve got a death wish.

I learnt from the best, Gord. He smacked Gordax on the shoulder and strode past him towards the arena. There were cheers as the armoured man descended into the wooden pit. There was a great deal of money at stake, more than most people would ever see, and he was a distinct underdog. The fighter stepped down from the wooden ladder to his position behind the allotted gate and listened as the announcer appeared at the edge of the pit.

Ladies and gentlemen, she started, in a booming warble, this bout is the final contest of the evening and it is a duel between a dominant champion and a courageous challenger. Before I begin the introductions, a moment of thanks to our host, Mister Judoc Larue, for his hospitality. And now, this is the climactic battle of our voyage. Introducing first, emerging from the gate to my left, he is a human swordsman who has blazed an unstoppable trail to reach these tournament finals. His face is disfigured by a lifetime of war, he has forgotten his true name, this is the challenger, The Bronze Destroyer!

There was a mixed reaction as the wooden gate was raised and he walked out into the pit. There were puddles of blood on the floor, along with other stains, which had been covered with mounds of sawdust. He looked up at the crowd, eventually finding Gordax, who watched with his arms crossed. Gordax’s expression was not encouraging.

And entering from my right, it became quiet and heavy steps thudded across the wooden floor, he is an ogre who is undefeated in single combat, a veteran of the war in Kalwyn and perhaps the most dangerous being alive. I present our champion: the ferocious, the brutal, the indestructible Ivan!

The crowd parted in a panic and a hulking mass of muscle and green flesh appeared at the edge of the pit. Ivan jumped down and landed with so much force that it seemed to rock the entire ship. There was hushed excitement in the air as Ivan took his place at the opposite end of the arena, striding back and forth with intense eagerness. The ogre, clad in plain steel armour,  looked twice as tall as his opponent and there was burning hatred in his eyes.

The human will die, the ogre declared. The crowd cheered.

The duel will continue until one of the combatants is unable to do so, the announcer stated, which suggested few positive outcomes. Battle will commence at Mister Larue’s signal. She looked to Larue, who raised a hand.

Wait! the armoured man shouted, drawing groans from the bloodthirsty audience. I have something to say! He reached below his helmet and unfastened a leather strap as Ivan and the crowd watched impatiently. He struggled with the helmet for a moment before pulling it off, revealing a filthy head of hair and a scruffy beard that hadn’t been tended to in weeks. My name is Rigel Morgan! he informed them. I am a Guardian in the service of Queen Faye of Kalwyn and this monster belongs in my country’s dungeons!

There were murmurs among the crowd but it had mostly fallen silent.

You are not in Kalwyn, Rigel Morgan, Larue said, and your Queen is very far away.

That’s true, Rigel agreed, but I doubt she’ll be pleased that you’ve been paying one of her most wanted criminals for two years. Let me take him and you might stay on her good side.

Larue laughed and his surrounding sycophants quickly joined in. Very well, Rigel. Feel free to take him. He waved his hand for the duel to start and there was another raucous ovation.

Rigel drew his sword and gazed up at the raging titan, who clearly had no intention of surrendering peacefully. Ivan carried a rusty chain in his left hand and a mottled wooden club in the other. He lashed out with the chain, whipping it overhead and cracking it down onto the wooden floorboards. Rigel avoided it, as well as a second swing of the club so forceful that it would have put a man through the wall. Rigel responded with a swipe from his sword, slicing across the back of the ogre’s hand. Ivan ignored the shallow wound and swatted Rigel away with a half-hearted swing of his club. It clanged on Rigel’s breast plate and forced the air out of his body. Rigel tumbled across the sawdust-covered ground to the delight of the crowd.

Ivan is no prisoner! the ogre roared, winding up the chain for another lash.

Rigel struggled for breath.

No one can stop Ivan! The chain whipped down and splintered the floorboards as Rigel desperately rolled out of the way.

Rigel reached behind his back and grabbed his knife before flinging it at his opponent with all his strength. It was a perfect throw and the knife pierced the ogre just below his collarbone, drawing gasps from the crowd. Ivan looked at the knife and snorted, indifferently. Ogres were notoriously thick-skinned but Rigel had sharpened the edge so finely that it could have skinned a dragon. It seemed to amuse Ivan more than hurt him and he charged at Rigel, dropping his chain as he ran. Ivan grabbed the human by the throat and slammed him against the wall of the pit. The force sent them both through the wooden barrier and splinters flew in every direction. There was another, louder cheer.

It appears we have a winner, Larue declared, delighted. Feel free to finish him, Ivan.

The ogre raised his fist to deal a killing blow but there was a loud thud and further uproar from the crowd. Rigel looked up and saw a metal bolt buried in the ogre’s shoulder; it could only have come from Gordax’s crossbow. Ivan looked back, incensed, and saw the short bald man being accosted by several guards.

Let him go! a woman’s voice ordered. The crowd turned to its source: the young hooded woman, who now held a mage’s wand in her left hand. There were concerned murmurs among some of the wealthy patrons.

What business does a witch have on my ship? Larue asked, furiously.

Your champion killed fourteen people in Cythren two years ago, including my friends, she answered. I’m here to see that he’s brought to justice.

The Order has no business here.

As you said, we’re not in Kalwyn. The witch released a shockwave from the tip of her wand and knocked down the men restraining Gordax. One of the mercenaries desperately held the intruder’s muscular arms from behind but Gordax drove his head back against the man’s face, then turned and dropped him with a vicious hook to the jaw. Gordax pulled out his sword and lunged into the crowd with abandon as the mage held back the others. One of the patrons drew a wand of his own and unleashed a mighty blast of lightning, which the female mage deflected.

In the pit, the distraction allowed Rigel to struggle back to his feet and he slowly climbed the wooden ladder to escape his adversary. Another flash of magic rocked the ship. He had only brought the girl as insurance, in case there were any magi on the ship, but a magical duel was not part of the plan. The ladder wobbled and Rigel looked down to see Ivan trying to tear it away from the wall. Rigel leapt out of the pit moments before the ogre ripped the ladder off and smashed it on the floor. The pit seemed a decent place to leave Ivan but the ogre punched holes in the wall and used them to climb up and out.

There was another crackle of magical power and the energy surged into the ship’s hull, then exploded. Silence fell over the crowd as they watched water trickling menacingly into the ship. A large piece of wood broke away and the sea began pouring in, falling into the pit and flooding it. There was immediate panic among the patrons and they stumbled over each other as they desperately tried to flee. Rigel already had greater cause to run as Ivan chased him through the ship, crashing through walls, tables and people alike. One of Larue’s guards tried to stop Rigel but two quick swipes of Rigel’s sword ended him. Ivan roared furiously as Rigel sprinted up the steps to the surface. The wind and rain smacked Rigel in the face as he emerged into the night alongside several wealthy gamblers and crewmen, who had abandoned their duties in their struggle to survive. Ivan walked out into the storm with a calmness that disturbed Rigel more than the rage; the ogre was going to take his time tearing his prey to pieces.

No escape, Ivan mocked with a grimace, striding towards his prey.

Rigel reached down and tried to quickly unfasten the leather straps of his armour, his fingers slipping in the rain. The left strap came undone and he urgently threw the breastplate away. He struggled to do the same with his forearm protection and threw the pieces of bronze onto the deck.

The human wants to die fast! Ivan won’t let him! The monster loomed ever larger and raised his fist to hit Rigel. He stopped short. There was another bolt stuck in him, this time embedded in the back of his head but failing to pierce his skull. He ignored the bolt’s sting and again looked to finish Rigel but instead stumbled forward. Ivan turned and saw the mage, who rapidly struck him with several more waves of power, strong enough to force the ogre to stagger toward the edge of the ship. Rigel leapt out of the way, narrowly avoiding catastrophe, as Ivan struggled to regain his balance. Before he could, Rigel jumped back to his feet and charged, swinging his sword with all his might at the ogre’s face. Ivan roared with pain and toppled back, crashed into the sea and immediately disappeared into the depths. Rigel watched the waves, as though concerned the beast would find some way back to the surface. Thankfully, he didn’t.

Why did you take your armour off? the mage asked.

So that wouldn’t happen to me, Rigel replied. He looked for their escape boat; it should have been waiting for them. Good work, Heather.

She pulled back her hood to look down at the waves, revealing a head of platted red hair and a face that was even paler in the moonlight. I’m not sure. This seems a mess.

Both of you should turn around, Gordax said. He had a bloody nose and the beginnings of a black eye. Behind them stood several of the ship’s patrons and their guards. The mob glared at the intruders with deadly intent. At the centre of the group were the fight announcer and Judoc Larue, the latter of whom seemed particularly furious.

Do you comprehend what you’ve done? Larue asked. A Guardian of Kalwyn attacking a legitimate foreign ship?

You started it, Rigel said, glibly, as the crowd moved closer. I asked nicely and now your champion is an anchor.

I appreciate good manners, the host drew a sword that looked as though it had never been used, but they won’t save you.

That’s why I don’t use them.

You should probably close your eyes, Heather told Rigel and Gordax. Before Rigel could ask her to repeat herself, there was a blinding flash of light that illuminated the deck of the ship more starkly than the midday sun. The patrons cried out in distress as they struggled to see, blinking and stumbling about on the heavily damaged ship. By the time the men on the deck had regained their vision, the three raiders had vanished.

CHAPTER II - Captivity

Penny placed her leather bookmark and closed the book around it, then set the old tome down beside her on the wooden bench. She looked along the hallway to her right, then to her left and saw a few students huddled in the distance, talking and laughing. Penny had been at the University for the majority of the past two years and, though it was gradually recovering its former numbers, it remained a far cry from its better days. Her first visit to Cythren occurred a couple of days before the Queen’s eighteenth birthday and celebrations for her twentieth were now underway. That milestone coming of age and the subsequent coronation had occurred beneath a cloud of tragedy but there was now a mood of optimism in the capital. Most believed that this, the first major celebration since the completion of the Royal Palace’s repairs, would be a far happier occasion. As Penny sat in the University hallway outside the Council Chamber, however, birthday celebrations were far from her mind. She crossed her arms and looked up to the ceiling, a lock of brown hair falling over her face. She blew the strands away and twirled a finger through them as they fell.

The large door ominously screeched open and the perpetually elegant figure of Penny’s tutor emerged, her light blonde hair styled immaculately.

We’re ready for you, Pen, Gwen said, ushering her student into the room.

Penny had rarely been invited into the meeting room of the Arcane Council of Kalwyn. She was surprised by how small it was, given the importance of what occurred inside. At the centre of the room, there was a long table surrounded by chairs. There were benches along the walls, for those occasions when a meeting called for an audience. In this instance, three members of the Council sat at one end of the table while a young scribe took notes at the opposite end.

Good afternoon, Penny, Telmo Ojeda, the youngest member of the Council group, greeted. He was in his early forties and had been granted his seat on the Council when the University reopened, two years earlier. Come, take a seat.

Penny knew each of the Masters in the room well enough, having spent time learning from all of them during the course of her studies. She sat across the table from the Masters that were already seated, then Gwen sat next to her.

The Council will now discuss the matter of Penelope Meadows and her status within the Arcane Order of Kawlyn, Ian Hogarth, the oldest and sternest member of the Council, announced. Penny initially found it difficult to earn his respect but their interactions had become friendlier in time.

Cefin, the sole elf on the Council, continued: In attendance are Masters Hogarth, Ojeda, Cefin and Winters, as well as Apprentice Meadows. He was a quiet man but had always been warm to Penny, perhaps due to her friendship with the elves of Cythren.

Don’t worry, Penny, Telmo reassured her, just the unavoidable formalities. How have you been?

I’ve been well, Penny answered, the same as always, I suppose. I learn something new every day; I’ve met people from places that I didn’t even know existed two years ago. It’s been the most rewarding time of my life.

Yet you seem eager to leave, Cefin remarked. Why?

It isn’t that I want to leave. I love the University, I love Cythren. I’m just beginning to feel a little... stuck. I spent my first nineteen years in Willowood and I had a lovely life but I was ready to go out and see the world. When that eventually happened, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. I’ve spent the past two years here and I wouldn’t change a second of it but I want to go out and see the world. Somebody told me that we have our first lessons within these walls but we only truly learn once we step beyond them. I’ve seen a lot of students become graduates during my time here.

No two individuals are the same, Cefin replied.

Kalwyn is safer than it was, Master Hogarth said, but it remains a dangerous place for our Order. We have enemies everywhere; are you confident in your ability to face them?

I can’t know that unless I try, Penny answered.

By which point it might be too late.

I’m not trying to put myself in danger. I’d like to find gifted people and help them take their first steps along the path.

I don’t know why anyone is worried, Telmo interjected. Only two people in this room have survived a battle with a Firstborn and neither sits on this side of the table.

We shan’t skirt the issue, Cefin said. You’ve suffered two involuntary magical incidents in your life that we’re aware of, both of which were potentially fatal to yourself and others.

Those were before I came here, Penny replied, defensively.

That’s true but you’ve also been isolated from the sort of trauma that might provoke one. Can you say with certainty that an extreme situation wouldn’t result in the same response, even now?

Gwen frowned. How can she possibly answer that?

If she can’t, Hogarth said, then she must understand why we’re so concerned about her safety.

Penny, you’re everything we could want in a student, Telmo said warmly. Nobody at this table could ask for any more from your effort, determination and willingness to read an absurd amount of books.

However, there’s more to this than studying literature, Hogarth stated. Your attitude doesn’t worry us but your degree of control over your gifts does. Instability and imbalance in your life have a significant impact on your abilities.

Cefin watched Penny closely as she listened, then spoke up himself. Your association with Rigel Morgan-

Penny interrupted, curtly. I don’t have an association with him.

Are you aware that they’ve revoked his status as a Guardian?

I am now.

He took it upon himself to infiltrate and sink a foreign vessel while it was at sea.

It was so ridiculous that she immediately believed it. Well, we haven’t spoken in months.

How do you feel about the week ahead? Telmo asked.

Aside from this meeting, it’s mostly the same as any week. I’m looking forward to the Queen’s birthday.

Telmo, for once, looked uncomfortable as he prepared to take the conversation in a difficult direction. That isn’t the only reason this week is significant.

I know, Penny said, preferring to keep those memories buried.

It can’t be easy.

It isn’t but I’m far from the only person in Cythren that lived through it.

Indeed not, Hogarth interjected, yet your abilities make your situation unique.

Gwen ran out of patience. Can we please get to the point? she asked.

Penny sensed that their verdict was not going to be favourable.

Very well, Hogarth replied. At this time, it is the decision of the Arcane Council that Penelope Meadows should not graduate past the title of Apprentice. We will reconvene in twelve weeks for further review.

Penny felt that she had been punched in the stomach and did her best not to sink into her chair. Her disappointment was apparent as she stared down at the table, unable to look at her peers. If she had looked up, she might have seen genuine sympathy on their faces.

Understand, Cefin said, that this is not a decision we take lightly. It is our responsibility to recognise any argument against your graduation.

Hogarth continued. Even now that the Magical Regulation Act has been abolished, many in Kalwyn distrust the Order. They are searching for the slightest excuse to persecute us again. Know that this is not a reflection of your perceived merit and that we have decided it for your sake more than anyone else’s.

I understand, Penny said, though she didn’t agree. She rose from the table. Will that be all?

That will be all, Telmo said with a nod.

Penny thanked them and made the short walk to the door, feeling their eyes on her back as she opened it and left.

If she isn’t ready now, Gwen said, loudly enough that Penny could hear, when will she be? Are you going to keep her here forever?

If we must, Cefin replied as the door clanged shut.

CHAPTER III - Celebration

It was late afternoon on the King’s Road and the daylight was fading. Penny looked down at her dress, which was by far the finest she had ever worn, made of dark green silk with golden patterns embroidered along its edges. Her often uncooperative brown hair had been threaded into one neat plait, which now rested on the front of her left shoulder. Penny’s parents had sent a surprising amount of money and ordered her to visit one of the most renowned dressmakers in Cythren. It wasn’t every day, they said, that a Meadows was invited to celebrate a royal birthday.

Penny had been present for both of the Queen’s previous two birthdays but she had been a fugitive for the first of them. The Queen felt it inappropriate to hold a large celebration for her nineteenth birthday while half of Cythren remained in ruins but the city was now prepared to mark her twentieth in a more grandiose fashion. It would be, in effect, the Queen’s first true celebration after years of turmoil. A scattered crowd had gathered on the Road; some people carried invitations to the party and others simply wanted to watch the procession of apparently important people wearing opulent attire.

Been waiting long? a female voice asked.

Penny turned and saw a teenaged girl, beautifully dressed with her shoulder-length hair tied up and golden loose waves framing her fair face. For a moment, Penny thought the girl to be a stranger. As she came closer, there was no mistaking her.

Have we met? Penny teased. You’re familiar but something is off.

The striking young lady was Megan, standing tall with a hairstyle that proudly displayed her pointed ears. In the two years that they had known each other, Penny couldn’t recall seeing the young elf in a skirt, never mind a dress.

I saved up and got it second hand, Megan explained before Penny could ask. I’ll sell it on and be no worse off.

Penny embraced her friend, pinning her arms to her sides. You look lovely, Meg.

Megan broke away and gave a twirl, followed by a perfect curtsey. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this. I used to sneak into balls all the time, even if they weren’t as big as this one. How was your meeting?

It looks like we’ll be having lunch together for a while longer, Penny answered.

That doesn’t sound so bad. Megan offered a sympathetic smile. You’ll get there, Pen.

Thank you, Meg. So, what do we know about tonight’s entertainment?

Apparently it’s about what happened two years ago.

That isn’t really my idea of a fun evening.

You never know, it might be all right. Not everyone has a play written about how they saved Kalwyn.

Together, they walked to the theatre and showed their invitations to the City Watch. Inside, there were a dozen rows of stone benches curved around the semicircular stage, each of which had been cushioned. An usher directed the pair to their seats, which were a few rows back, and they edged their way through the audience until they reached their designated spots. Penny surveyed the crowd and caught sight of Gwen and the other Council members in the front row. Lord Emyr of Atheryn occupied a seat near the centre of the same row, next to Queen Faye and Captain Leo of the Royal Guard. The theatre was almost full but there were two vacant seats next to Penny and Megan. Penny quietly prayed that one of them wasn’t for whom she expected.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, an announcer said, walking onto the stage. "The Cooke Theatre Company would like to welcome you, our distinguished audience, to this evening’s performance of Mister Ewart Cooke’s newest and most epic play, The Tragedy and Triumph of Cythren. We want to thank you all for your attendance and wish to express our sincerest gratitude to Queen Faye for granting us this most distinguished opportunity to offer our contribution to celebrating this wonderful occasion."

As the announcer continued his lengthy introduction, Penny saw a disturbance in the audience to her right, as two newcomers fought their way to the vacant seats. Gordax was smartly dressed in a tailored suit, beard waxed, head freshly shaven. Behind him came Rigel, though Penny struggled to recognise him. She had never seen him so neatly presented, wearing royal blue and with his face shaved smooth. His hair had been trimmed and combed; she supposed he could even have been considered handsome. Gordax wisely placed himself between Penny and Rigel, to maintain a safe distance between them.

Evening, Pen, Meg, Gordax whispered.

They returned his greeting as Rigel dropped heavily onto the cushion beside him. Papers rustled as Megan flicked through her copy of the programme.

Looks like I didn’t make it in... she said, disappointed.

Didn’t know you cared about the theatre, Rigel commented.

I’m actually very fond of it. Megan looked up from the page to the stage as two actors ascended a small staircase. The first of them wore a grey wig and walked in a painful-looking hunch, using a stick for assistance, while the second was a tall man in black armour and a horned helmet. They were unmistakably Chancellor Morran and General Ragnar, though the ‘General’ lacked the enormity of his historical counterpart.

At last, ‘Morran’ said, "our sought after goal is achieved. Years of tyranny impart their reward. We shall revive the Last of the