Rise (War Witch Book 1) Read online

  RISE

  BOOK ONE of the

  WAR WITCH

  SAGA

  CAIN S. LATRANI

  Booktrope Editions

  Seattle, WA 2015

  COPYRIGHT 2015 PATRICK CHRISTIAN HOLT

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions

  should be directed to: [email protected]

  Cover Design by Amalia Chitulescu

  Edited by Wendy Garfinkle

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN: 978-1-5137-0320-6

  EPUB ISBN: 978-1-5137-0371-8

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015919801

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Map of the North-East

  Preface

  The First Age: Creation

  The Second Age: Glory and Blood

  The Third Age: Touched By Gods

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part Two

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Appendix

  The Sky Gods

  The Earth Gods

  The Sea Gods

  The Night Gods

  The Lesser Gods

  The Demon Gods

  The Forgotten Gods

  A Note from the Author

  About The Author

  More Great Reads from Booktrope

  Acknowledgments

  As of the time of this writing, it has been seventeen years since the idea for The Mythic Age first came to me, in a dream of all places. Though, that shouldn’t surprise me so much, as most of my genuinely good ideas seem to arrive in that fashion.

  In that time, I’ve worked to fully detail the world. It’s an ongoing effort, and one I now know will never truly be finished. The Mythic Age is simply too big, too complex, for me to ever fully capture.

  I can, and will, spend the rest of my life trying to detail the myriad aspects of this world. The history, cultures, and beliefs that shape and drive it. To my last day, I will tell stories set within it, for there are so many worthy of being told.

  It is a task I will never finish, and I know that. Honestly, it makes me smile. A world should never be easy to describe.

  Fortunately, I’m not alone in this endeavor. Since the first thought of it came to me, that dream that introduced me to the Gods and their struggle, and the Blessed who serve them, I’ve had help in capturing The Mythic Age on paper.

  Fully half, at least, of what makes up the history and ways of The Mythic Age has come from the love of my life, fellow writer, best friend, and inspiration for everything I do.

  Storm DeVille, the very heart that beats in my chest, loves the world of The Mythic Age as much as I do, and has dedicated the last seventeen years to fleshing it out alongside me. Without her, it wouldn’t be what it is. Her hand, alongside mine, has guided this creation into something massive, and beautiful.

  My thanks will never be enough.

  Our world, my love, still grows, and its tales of epic heroes, are legend.

  Preface

  The Three Ages Of The Middle World

  The First Age: Creation

  IN THE BEGINNING, there was the Void. Empty, dark, endless, and cold, it existed alone and knew not what it truly was.

  After an unmeasurable eternity, it became aware of its own emptiness and solitude. For some time, it considered this and finally chose to learn more about itself.

  Thus was born Rialda, the great Crow Goddess, whose black feathers glittered in the Void.

  So it was that the Void sent Rialda forth to examine it more closely, so that it might learn what was held within itself. But as Rialda soared through the endless emptiness, she found only nothing.

  Returning to the place of her creation and telling the Void of what she’d learned, she thought she was to be unmade, reunited with the Void. But the Void had all but forgotten why it had created her by this time and had grown sleepy.

  “Resolve this for me,” it instructed her before wrapping itself into its black cloak and going to sleep.

  Rialda pondered this new request for some time before setting off to fulfill it.

  So it came to pass that Rialda traveled to the heart of the Void and there built a nest from the very essence of the Void, while being careful not to wake it.

  In this ebony nest, she laid three eggs, the first bright orange, the second pure white, and the third as black as the Void itself.

  In time, the eggs hatched. From the first came a Tiger, his coat glowing so brightly it lit up the Void itself.

  “I shall name you Grannax, and it shall mean Lights the Void,” his mother told him.

  From the second egg was born a white Tigress, and her coat also glowed, but not as brightly as did her brother’s.

  “I shall name you Isel, and it shall mean Shines in the Void,” Rialda told her.

  From the third egg was born a black Tigress, whose very coat seemed to swallow up the light of the other two.

  “I shall name you Ker Zet, and it shall mean Carries the Void,” Rialda told her.

  And so it came to pass that Rialda left the three to do as they would, promising to return.

  Grannax quickly grew tired of the emptiness and chose to create the World. Once it was done, he turned it slowly in his paws, inspecting it carefully. The glow of his coat warmed the surface, bringing forth the trees and the plants.

  Isel stood on the other side of the World, but didn’t like how she was always in darkness. Taking some of her fur, she threw it into the Void, forming the
stars and constellations.

  Ker Zet watched, but soon realized there was nothing she could add to this, and her heart knew only bitterness.

  So it was that Ker Zet snuck down upon the surface of the World to look around and see what the other two may have overlooked when creating it. She knew that if Grannax caught her, he would be very angry, so she hid from his face behind many things, from trees to rocks, never knowing that everywhere she hid, she left darkness behind her.

  As time passed, the two sisters constantly rivaled each other for their brother’s affection, a battle Isel finally won by covering Grannax’s eyes, and plunging the World into darkness, surprising him with the cleverness of this trick.

  Grannax took Isel to be his mate, and Ker Zet’s heart knew hatred.

  So it was that Grannax and Isel came to have many children, and each child brought with it something new into the World. And with each new child and each new creation, Ker Zet’s hatred consumed her a little more, until at last she formed a plan.

  She waited until Isel had gone down to walk in the World with her children, and then the black Tigress snuck into the bed chamber of Grannax and bound him with the sacred metal in the form of chains she’d forged, and drugged him heavily.

  Having him in such a state, Ker Zet took advantage of the great Tiger.

  But Ker Zet had forgotten that this was the night Isel came to lay with her husband and was caught in her dark deed by the white Tigress.

  Seeing her husband bound by the sacred metal and drugged, lying with Ker Zet, Isel knew what had come to pass and flew into a rage.

  Unknown to Ker Zet, Isel had spent her days creating magic, while her sister had grown dark, her spirit twisted and cruel.

  Isel cursed Ker Zet that night, using powerful magic to bring her sister’s inner ugliness to the surface, leaving only her face untouched. The rest of her became a hideous beast.

  Shamed and in pain, Ker Zet fled. But her plan was done and she soon gave birth to thirteen demon children, each as twisted as she.

  Ker Zet’s hatred turned to insanity then and with her children, she laid siege to the holy palace of Grannax, thinking to kill her siblings and rule their creation herself.

  But the children of Grannax and Isel rose up to defend them and Ker Zet and her brood were defeated.

  Knowing that if he did nothing, they would destroy the World, Grannax chose to stop them and separated the World into three parts. The High World for he and his family, the Middle World for all they had wrought, and the Low World into which Ker Zet and her brood were banished, but not before they had sworn to undo all Grannax had done.

  And so it remains, even unto this day, when the Gods first created the Blessed.

  The Second Age: Glory and Blood

  THE DAWN OF THE SECOND AGE came after the separation of the Worlds, with the rise of the Golden Empire.

  With the World as its boundaries, the Empire was true glory. Under its rule, no one ever wanted and the Six Races were as one. Peace reigned supreme.

  At the Empire’s heart was the great city of Everdawn. From this mighty city, the Immortal Emperor Cynthanis ruled with his mystic sword Glyphnok for a thousand generations. Cynthanis was revered for his generous and just rule and in his name, great things were done.

  Too easily, the treachery of Ker Zet was forgotten and fell into myth.

  Then the armies of the Demon Gods came. Amassed in secret, they were thousands strong and lay siege to the Empire, their advance laying waste to the land.

  For one hundred years, the war raged, tearing the fabric of the World. But with Cynthanis leading the charge, Glyphnok in hand, the day was eventually won. There upon that battlefield, the minions of the Demon Gods were repulsed, forced back to the Low World, and the Middle World was saved.

  Sadly, the glorious Empire hung in tatters from the long war, and after the last battle, no one saw a sign of Cynthanis. The mystic sword Glyphnok was found upon that great battlefield, abandoned. The Emperor was gone.

  The next thousand years saw the decay of the Golden Empire as many tried to take the empty throne, but Glyphnok burned them all, for they were unworthy, harboring greed in their hearts. So it was that the throne remained empty and Everdawn began to collapse.

  During this time, the Sacred Order of the Tiger fell apart; its heart ripped out by infighting as the Priests of the Order sought to place their personal God above all others. From the ruins rose the Cleric Mages who, while powerful, were disorganized and without purpose or agreement.

  The Masters of Sorcery saw their opportunity to place themselves as the supreme Mage Tradition and seized it. With this act, they betrayed the trust of the Brotherhood of Mages, and the other Traditions feared their next ambition.

  What followed came to be known as the Mage Wars, a brutal time when the land was torn apart by their battles. Many thousands died in the War, and the Brotherhood’s once elevated status was laid waste.

  When it was finally over, the Masters of Sorcery had achieved their goals. The Clerics have never formed a school since, but the mighty Spellweavers were brought the lowest, their vast libraries sacked and burned, all but a handful dead. Only the Druids escaped unscathed by leaving the physical plane entirely, traveling to the Shadow Realms, worlds brought to life when Grannax separated the One World into three.

  The treachery was never forgotten and the once sacred order of the Brotherhood was dissolved, oaths taken to never rebuild it again. But the Masters of Sorcery wrote the tale and only they ever earned the trust and respect of the people again.

  The unity once known by the Six Races was no more, each blaming the other for the fall of the Empire. Many wars were fought over land, blame, and the right to claim the now decaying throne of Everdawn. Entire armies took the field of battle for the right to grasp the hilt of Glyphnok, only to be burned.

  When enough blood had been spilled, the Six Races stopped speaking and grew apart. At a loss, the Gods wept over the animosity of their children.

  As the Empire breathed its last air, new kingdoms rose up; each rejected would-be Emperor consoling himself in his new regime. But these kings had been burned by Glyphnok for a reason and were not just and fair. So, not all people were eager to live in these new regimes and rejected them, traveling beyond their reach.

  They who would not live as slaves to the would-be Emperors birthed entire cultures, and the Gods wept even more, for their children had forgotten the ways of peace completely.

  The Second Age, the Age of Glory and Blood, came to a close with an event that shook the whole of the World.

  Pained beyond pain at the horrors wrought upon his world, Grannax reached out his mighty paw and erased the decayed city of Everdawn from the face of the World. In its place rose up a great swamp, born of the tears cried by the great Tiger and the rage he felt.

  Lost too was Glyphnok, the very mark of the Empire, vanished from the shrine that had held it. With it, the last hope that the Empire would rise again, faded.

  The Third Age: Touched By Gods

  THE THIRD AGE CAME with the return of the Demon Gods. With no Empire to check the minions of the Dark Ones, the forces of evil ran rampant, corrupting the World and paving the way for the return of the Demon Gods.

  Desperate to save creation, the Ascended went to war with the Demon Seed, but were too few and too weak. Many died and the Gods mourned, for it seemed the World was lost.

  Thinking the Gods too weak to save them, many Clerics turned to the Demon Gods, taking their followers with them, seeking salvation in the coming Empire of Evil.

  Corruption swept the land and new wars broke out everywhere as kings greedily sought more power and wealth. The people counted the days until the end came.

  In the High World, the sky darkened and the wind grew strong as Rialda returned, just as she’d promised she would.

  The grandmother of creation sat with the Gods and listened to all they had to say. Though her pain was great at the betrayal done by her once beautiful daughte
r, Rialda knew that Isel had done what was right and began instructing Grannax in what to do.

  Reaching down, he touched a mortal man with his divine paw. A simple soldier whose heart was pure and whose mind was untouched by evil.

  “Aladar of Itinis, I shall bless you and make you my hand upon the Middle World.”

  So it was that first of the Blessed came to be. Aladar of Itinis, that noble fallen kingdom, bravely went out to do battle with the Demon Seed, and turned the tide of destruction that threatened the World.

  Though he fell in battle against the zombie king Ezmoch, giving his life to destroy the foul thing, Aladar has never been forgotten.

  Since that day, five hundred years past, the Demon Gods have moved more slowly, biding their time and corrupting the World through more sinister plots.

  But the Gods have learned to no longer wait until it’s too late and have begun to create new Blessed.

  Warriors of virtue, honor, integrity, and cunning, the Blessed must stop the minions of the Demon Gods, or all will be lost.

  Part One

  The Warrior

  Chapter One

  EVERYTHING DIES. It’s the way of the things, the balance of the universe. Birth, life, and death; the law of the cosmos. No one can truly escape it; only avoid for a time the eventual outcome. It’s the cycle of eternity, that which keeps all things moving. Without it, all would come to ruin.

  The question then arises, beyond the philosophical musings of who am I and why am I here. Who wrote this law? Who laid out the rule that men and Gods must live, and eventually, die? Who first set the cycle into action and what was their motivation to do so? Did they foresee the eventual need of such a law, or was it some other desire that set into motion the inescapable?

  Could we, given the chance, ever understand what drives such a force? Perhaps we could not, were we allowed to ask the author of this edict why, even understand what compels it. Perhaps we’re too small, too limited, to ever grasp the needs of the universe in which we live.