Stars' Light, page 1
STARS’ LIGHT
MARK ALLEN
Copyright © 2022 by Mark Allen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Afterword
The Tracian Knight
About the Author
UNTITLED
Star’s Light
By
Mark Allen
CHAPTER ONE
Bral felt the seven Essences of creation align around him. He loved this part of the hunt. He remembered when he had loved nothing else; but now, it left him feeling empty and a little sad. He knew that he would only find misery, pain, and sorrow at the end.
He moved through the trees under a waning moon. He drifted slowly, making only the barest of sounds as he pushed his way forward. He could see the telltale glow of a fire, but there was no noise of dinner, conversation, or the normal sounds that accompanied a fire. In fact, this entire area of woods was uncharacteristically silent. Water ran off his shoulders and hands from the fresh rain. The leather grip of his War Blade was damp and only getting more wet the deeper he pushed into the trees.
He heard a branch break off to his left; he paused, not moving, only glancing with his eyes. There it was, in the deep shadows. A sentry. Bral slowly turned and brought the Essences to bear. It took light to bring the Essences out, and if this was what he thought, they would feel him using it, which was why he had waited in the first place.
Sliding forward, he left no trace on the ground of his passing; branches slowly moved out of his way, and the rain that rested on the branches, needles, and trees did not touch him.
The sentry saw a shadow detach from the trees on his right, but could not call out or move. There was a pressure holding him down. He stared as the shadow approached, trying with all his being to break free. He knew what has happening to him but could do nothing about it. He could not look anywhere but forward until he was staring into the dark green eyes of a legend. There was a brief moment of fear that turned into abject terror upon seeing the War Blade poised for a strike.
Bral frowned, holding the severed head and the body, and then setting both on the ground. He started to move away before the body began to dissolve into a black ichor. Again, he was slow and meticulous in his movements, so as not to create too much noise, even though he was dampening the sound. His blade remained out and by his side as he released the Essences, breathing out. He let the light stream off of him and dissipate around him.
He was tired. Very tired. It always took its toll using the Essences, but really, he was soul tired. He took a moment to align himself and looked at the body. Long, wicked claws topped each finger, and the skin looked like crinkled, black-dyed parchment paper. He was always fascinated when the bodies melted into a black ichor. It was a Fallen of the third coil. A lower form, but one that could hunt humans very well and was wicked in its consumption of human flesh. A predator.
Bral looked back at the light from the fire not too far off. The fire itself was concealed behind a screen of rocks and trees. It would not be an easy approach. He frowned again, knowing what he would find. He drew in light from around him. Light that came from the stars, moon, and all life around him. He knew the demons would sense that he was here, and he was coming for them.
He called forth the Essences and waited for his vision to adjust. He could see the currents of energy that flowed and moved about and through all things. Something shifted. It was inside of him, and he could feel that change was coming. He moved in between the currents, pushing others around him out of his way. In effect, he was moving in the areas with no energy. He was moving where the eye could not see.
Barabole turned and sniffed at the air. He could sense the changing of the environment around him. “The enemy is near. He has finally caught up with us.” A sneer crossed his bestial face, and his tongue licked across his two downward fangs, speaking to the other two with him.
Bral slowly moved toward the fire. He glanced around, looking at the bodies that were littered about. They had already been fed upon, and two of the women were dead, but a third had been used for seed. She gasped for air and was still in a state of shock and ecstasy. Her head lolled from side to side and small moans escaped her lips.
He allowed himself to be seen. The Fallen started, seeing him appear near the fire. Bral did not even speak. He just nodded his head.
“No!” Barabole yelled as he watched his two soldiers dart forward to attack.
Bral moved like the wind, evading the slashing claws. They were trying to herd him toward their sentry, but they did not know the sentry had already been put down. They were demons of the First Coil and not very smart or creative, but fierce fighters. Their claws were not as pronounced, being of the First Coil, but they did excrete a poison that would paralyze their victims. In essence, the victim was awake when the demons fed.
Bral slipped past the slashing claws of the first and cut down, severing the Demon’s arm. It paused, looking down at the missing limb. Bral immediately cut across the creature’s neck, beheading it. The other one stopped and backed off a bit, standing near the fire.
Light Bringer flared to life, bright silver runes drawing in the light from the fire, dripping brilliance. For a moment, twilight prevailed as all the light in the area was sucked into the blade. Bral’s eyes turned from green to a luminous silver. With a glance, the fire flared to life and engulfed the Demon. It began to scream in agony as its parchment-like skin burst into flame. It collapsed to the ground, convulsing. Bral strode forward to stand just out of sword reach from the captain of this raiding party.
“You must understand there is no escape for you. You will not be reincarnated at the Black Hall. You will burn in the light.” Bral’s inhuman voice echoed around the campsite. It sounded as if it emanated from the very air itself.
“Why do you think I did not run?” Barabole spoke quietly. He had hoped the eternal warrior would find him, but there was no guarantee. It had taken a lot of killing to get him on their scent. “My master has a message for you.” He paused for effect, staring into the silver luminous eyes.
“And…?”
“This time will be different. It will not be what you think it is. She wants you to know…” The words were cut off in a flash of silver light, and Barabole’s body fell, sifting to the ground, burning from the inside. It collapsed into ash and dusted the ground and Bral’s boots.
“We shall see.” Bral’s voice resonated throughout the campsite. He slowly let the light go. His eyes returned to normal, and the runes on the War Blade slowly faded from view. He looked around the campsite, locating the girl who was still alive. Weariness stole over him. Sheathing the curved War Blade, he walked over and knelt down beside her.
He laid his hand on her brow and a bit of light seeped out as he brought her out of her ecstasy. She blinked and looked up at him, her eyes lucid. She tried to move.
“Stay down. You’re hurt.” Bral spoke softly, holding her head down. There was a moment of panic to her movements, but his voice calmed her. “I have some herbs for you to drink. It will remove your pain and bring you peace.” He got up, moving towards the edge of the campsite and whistled.
Titan trotted quickly through the brush, a stalwart companion to a lonely warrior. Reaching into his saddle bags, he looked back, hearing her trying to move. She cried out and lay back down in her own blood.
Bral quickly moved back to her, pulling out a chewy gum ball. It was laced with a powerful pain reliever. “Here, chew on this. It will help greatly with the pain while I brew the herbs.” He placed it in her hand and sat back.
She looked at the small brown ball in her hand and back up at him. With a shuddering sigh, she put it in her mouth. She was surprised that her mouth was so sore. She did not remember getting hit in the mouth or the head. She was having trouble focusing. She began to chew and focused on that for the moment. It was a sweet taste, but within minutes, a warmth began to spread throughout her body, relaxing her as the pain seeped out. She watched as the warrior moved towards the fire and began to brew a drink.
Bral poured water into his coffee pot and place
“You’re him, aren’t you?” The woman swallowed hard, finally speaking out.
Bral turned, looking back at her. She stared fixedly back at him, noting his green eyes and full beard. “I am.”
She began to cry, and a small whimper emitted from her. “You are going to kill me.” Fear was evident in her whole body.
Bral picked up his worn pot, the water boiling. He crossed from the fire and sat down next to her. He let out a long sigh as he looked at her. She was a beautiful girl, probably not a girl all the boys would be after; but still, she was beautiful. She appeared to be around twenty years old, but he was not so good at guessing people’s ages. They all looked young to him. “The Fallen have mated with you. This is why all of your orifices will be sore. Also, the pain you are feeling is the larvae they have injected into you. They are eating you from the inside. There is nothing I can do for you other than to ease your passing.” His voice was soft and caring as he spoke, mixing a cup of tea. He laced it with a poison that would allow her to sleep and slowly stop her heart.
“What is your name?” She asked watching him stir the tea. She could feel things moving in her, and she blinked back tears.
“Bral.”
“No. Your real name.” She looked up at him and captured his gaze. There was an inner light to her eyes that he had not seen before. Normally, they always had a faraway look or a hollowness to the eyes. Hers were bright and alive.
“In all the time I’ve been doing this, I have never been asked for my real name. How do you know Bral isn’t it?”
She smiled. “You are the Immortal Warrior. You must have many names. I studied you at the university. I would love to know your real name.” She grimaced in pain and went to reach for her body, but her hand was caught in Bral’s grip. He shook his head with a sad smile. He placed a warm cup of tea in her hand.
“I’m afraid.” Her voice quivered and tears began to slide down her face.
He looked away, seeing what only he could see. “I know, but there is nothing for you to fear. Golden shores await with brilliant color all around, and you will be greeted by those who have already left. They will be happy to see you. There will be no pain or frustration, only love and companionship.” He still held her hand, and turned back to her.
“Will this hurt?” She glanced at the tea.
“No. There will be no pain. As I said, there is nothing for you to fear.”
“My name is Raeya.” She gripped his hand tightly with one hand and took a sip of tea with the other.
“Jorian Tal is my real name.” He smiled back. He liked her. She had a great spirit, and he began to wonder what her path would have been like if she had not run afoul of the Fallen. He watched her take another sip.
Raeya smiled as the pain and fear slowly eased from her body with each sip she took. “You look older than I thought you would. Most of the stories have you much younger looking in age. They say you would appear to be in your twenties or so.”
Jorian laughed. “The stories are too kind.”
“Are you really the second human ever?”
“Yes.”
“You fought against the Darkness with Azarai?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What was it like? I mean being one of three humans on the entire planet.”
She was starting to fade, and Jorian took the mostly empty tea cup from her hand and set it aside.
“It was lonely at first. But my brother and I began to build a great city. It was different then, than it is now. It was easier to build and move creation around. When Katerina arrived, she brought dozens with her. We named our city Bosc City, but you would know it only if you’ve been to the Borderlands.” He paused, watching her fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Is it true that you were the first married couple? Is your wife immortal?”
“Yes, Analia and I were the first married couple. All spirits are immortal. You are technically immortal.”
She gazed up at him with sleepy eyes. She reminded him of his daughters. The stories he told them at night when he tucked them in. The stories he told his grandchildren, and his great-grandchildren. All gone now.
“I’m sorry if I made you sad,” she whispered, noticing his frown.
“You should sleep now. I will stand guard and cast a light that nothing can penetrate, and you will be able to see your way to the Golden Shores.” He looked down to find that she had gone to sleep. Her breathing was shallow, but consistent. The fire grew brighter and brighter until the entire hollow was lit with its warmth, and then all at once, it dimmed.
Jorian let out a heavy sigh. He made sure that she was gone and then stood. He brought his hand up to wipe away a single tear. It was getting harder and harder. “I don’t want to do this anymore. She had so many possibilities that could have been; they would have been much better than this!” He waved his hand over the carnage.
“You do not know what her true purpose was. How do you know that she was not here for you?” Azarai stepped into the firelight. As the light caught him, he looked transparent, but vibrant.
Jorian paused and looked at the barest hint of a figure standing by Titan. “How much more do I need to learn? I’m tired, brother. It is time for me to come home.”
“You know that I do not make those decisions.” Azarai spoke.
“Why are you here then?” Jorian was clearly frustrated.
“Because you are in pain, and we are brothers. I told you that I would always be by your side, and I have been.”
“It’s starting again, isn’t it?”
“The stars are fading, and the humans need you. This is your last one, but you must train others. They must take up the fight for themselves after this. The third age is ending, and the One wants you to end it.” Azarai moved forward, becoming more detailed as greater amounts of light caught him. He was lithe and graceful as he came to stand before his brother. A smile played across his face. His hair was cut short, much like Jorian’s, and his beard was trimmed in an old fashioned way. “This is a great honor, and you will understand more at the end. The Tracian Knights must live again.” He placed his hands on Jorian’s shoulders, and they were firm and solid.
Jorian smiled a sad smile and placed his own hands upon Azarai’s shoulders, so they were locked together. “I don’t need any more honor, but I also told you that I would follow you to the very end; and I will, my king.”
Azarai nodded and released his brother. “Good hunting.”
Jorian collected Titan. He looked back at the mess of bodies and called upon the Essences. The fire burst out from its small pit of containment rocks. He created a conflagration that engulfed the entire hollow. He stirred it until it was so hot that nothing would be left of the massacre. Even the bones would be dust.
Mounting his horse, he rode for home towards the Marpesia mountain pass. He was ready to leave the Janery Baronies behind.
Azarai watched Jorian leave, fire whipping around, consuming everything but him. “He’s very tired, and I fear he may not have the strength to see this through.”
He is the strongest of you all, and he has faced many dark times. But, he will stand in the light, as he is the Lightbringer.
