The Fragment of Water (The Shattered Soul Book 1) Read online

  The Fragment of

  Water

  By Ben Hale

  Text Copyright © 2018 Ben Hale

  All Rights Reserved

  To my family and friends,

  Who believed

  And to my wife,

  Who is perfect

  The Chronicles of Lumineia

  By Ben Hale

  —The Shattered Soul—

  The Fragment of Water

  The Fragment of Shadow

  The Fragment of Light

  The Fragment of Fire

  The Fragment of Mind

  The Fragment of Power

  —The Master Thief—

  Jack of Thieves

  Thief in the Myst

  The God Thief

  —The Second Draeken War—

  Elseerian

  The Gathering

  Seven Days

  The List Unseen

  —The Warsworn—

  The Flesh of War

  The Age of War

  The Heart of War

  —The Age of Oracles—

  The Rogue Mage

  The Lost Mage

  The Battle Mage

  —The White Mage Saga—

  Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)

  The Last Oracle

  The Sword of Elseerian

  Descent Unto Dark

  Impact of the Fallen

  The Forge of Light

  Table of Contents

  The Chronicles of Lumineia

  Map of Lumineia

  Prologue: Shattered

  Chapter 1: Dakorian

  Chapter 2: Eternal

  Chapter 3: A Troll’s Bounty

  Chapter 4: Dangerous Prey

  Chapter 5: A Mysterious Message

  Chapter 6: Cloudy Vale

  Chapter 7: Ancient Visitors

  Chapter 8: Breached

  Chapter 9: Heth

  Chapter 10: The Cat’s Eye

  Chapter 11: Outlanders

  Chapter 12: The Lost Temple

  Chapter 13: The Hidden Chamber

  Chapter 14: The Invited

  Chapter 15: The Titan Chamber

  Chapter 16: Assassin Council

  Chapter 17: The Bloodsworn

  Chapter 18: Lost to the Deep

  Chapter 19: Churning

  Chapter 20: The Ear

  Chapter 21: The Strange Master

  Chapter 22: King Numen

  Chapter 23: The Dark Dwarf

  Chapter 24: Stormwall

  Chapter 25: Beacons of Light

  Chapter 26: The Broken Crown

  Chapter 27: Burned

  Chapter 28: Lira’s Gate

  Chapter 29: Renara

  Chapter 30: An Unexpected Ally

  Chapter 31: The Fragment of Shadow

  Chapter 32: Father of Guardians

  Chapter 33: Brothers United

  Chapter 34: Willow

  Chapter 35: A Royal Request

  Chapter 36: Seeking Wylyn

  Chapter 37: A Daring Plan

  Chapter 38: Draeken

  Chapter 39: A Dragon King

  Chapter 40: Adversaries

  Chapter 41: Draeken’s Power

  Chapter 42: Divided

  Chapter 43: A Brother’s Request

  Epilogue: Light and Shadow

  The Chronicles of Lumineia

  Author Bio

  Map of Lumineia

  Prologue: Shattered

  Elenyr Elsheeria exited the tunnel and surveyed the view. The shelf of rock she stood on overlooked a wide valley, cut by twin streams that fed a sprawling lake. Spring was in full bloom and flowers dotted the ledge, finding purchase in patches of soil. The sun rose in the east, casting the view in vibrant light.

  “Are you ready?” she called back into the tunnel.

  A young man advanced from the shadows, his expression confident, his eyes wary. Dark haired and dark eyed, he conveyed an imposing air that suggested slumbering power, yet none but Elenyr and Alydian knew the truth of his identity. He slowed and raised a hand to block the glare. A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he advanced to the center of the shelf and turned a slow circle, taking in the scenery.

  “I didn’t think it would be so bright,” he said, his tone soft, as if he feared to disturb the sense of wonder.

  “Dawn is always bright,” Elenyr said. “And beautiful.”

  She watched him, curious to see how he would react to his first time outside. He seemed content to take in the view, looking first to the flowers and then to a hawk that soared above. The expression reminded Elenyr of when she had first seen him, not when he was born, but when he was created.

  A guardian.

  She shuddered and looked away, recalling all the devastation the mighty guardians had wrought. Creatures and men, infused with raw liquid magic, had lost their minds to the madness of power. Mal had been one such boy who’d survived the charm, but his forging had been unique, leaving him with not one guardian magic, but five. More stable than the others, the power had nevertheless warped his mind until Alydian had ripped the magic from his flesh, restoring the boy’s mind and body. But the magic had been part of him too long, and instead of dissipating, it had taken a part of its host, and coalesced into a new being, one who knew its own identity.

  Draeken.

  “You’re worrying again,” he said. He turned and raised an eyebrow.

  “You may not be my son, but mothers worry,” she said. “We can’t help it.”

  “Isn’t this why you kept me in the catacombs of Verisith for so long?” he asked, “because you were worried I could not control my magic?” His voice carried a hint of a challenge.

  “Your flesh is born of magic,” she said, and then offered a faint smile. “Even if you look like a man.”

  “I don’t know what I am,” he said.

  “You are Draeken,” she said, as if that was an answered.

  Draeken raised his hand and watched the flesh fade to water, the sinews and bones changing to a crystalline blue. Then he morphed it to fire, which licked at his fingers and wrist. He grimaced, but not in pain, and the fire turned to the purplish color of mind magic. Then it faded to the darkest of nights, the shadow magic, before turning bright yellow, the magic of light.

  “I don’t know what I am,” he said again, softer than before.

  “Do you remember what I said a year ago?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she did. “I said that I’m still figuring out who I am as well.”

  Elenyr advanced to stand with him, and raised her own hands, which faded to ethereal. She felt the breeze stop pressing against her skin and pass through, as if she wasn’t there. Then she let her entire body phase to ethereal and dropped into the stone.

  The rock was dark, to her eyes resembling a dirty window. Contours of stone, cracks, and soil were all visible as spots, but the rest was transparent. She willed herself several feet forward and rose again on Draeken’s opposite side, rising and returning her body to flesh.

  “You know how to control your power,” he said, his voice touched by envy.

  “Not yet,” she said. “Need I remind you that I was once an oracle? I could manipulate every magic. Now I am this.”

  Elenyr recalled the moment she’d forsaken everything to become the Hauntress, including her considerable magic. It had given her a chance to save her daughter, but never imagined she would become an ethereal warrior, one free of the ravages of time.

  “In time you will know your identity,” she promised.

  “How?” he asked, an edge creeping into his voice. “I’m a being of magic—with a mind of a man.”

  “You
are not so different from the rest of us,” she said with a small smile. When he looked to her she motioned north. “Take my daughter, for example. It took her nearly a century of life to understand her role as oracle, and now the world is changed. She is the high oracle and the other bloodlines have been extinguished.”

  “So?”

  “Every choice we make shapes our fate.” Elenyr placed a hand on the boy’s arm. “Identity is not given at birth. It must be discovered.”

  Hope kindled in his eyes. “So I must discover who I am?”

  She nodded and squeezed his arm before withdrawing to the tunnel. “And we start today. The first step in using one’s magic—"

  “—is knowing one’s magic,” he said. “I know, you’ve said it many times.”

  She grinned and swept a hand to him. “Remember, this is not the training room, where distractions are minimal. Here you will have to contend with the sounds of life, the brush of the wind, and an abundance of light. Keep a firm leash on your magics or they will overpower you.”

  He nodded and cast the rising sun a last look before turning to face her. As they’d practiced, he drew in a breath and closed his eyes, centering himself as he prepared to use his magic. Elenyr watched as energy began to crackle on his arms.

  One year, that’s how long she’d insisted they stay in the catacombs beneath the ruins of Verisith. In that time he’d learned spells that took mages decades to master, and still his talent grew.

  She’d pledged to teach him, but a thread of fear seeped into her thoughts. Such power had a price, and she had no idea what his price would be. If he could not control the roiling power, what would he become?

  The question had haunted her, driven her to teach him discipline. At first he’d resisted, but over the last year a bond had grown between them, and she considered him akin to a son. Yet still the fear remained.

  Draeken cast a fire entity first, shaping a human out of flames that stood at his side. He stood tall, his boots burning the grass at his feet as he gazed into nothingness, a massive sword coalescing on his back. Then a water entity joined them, its body forming with arms and legs, the fingers coiling around a staff weapon.

  An entity was a frequent charm used by mages. It lacked a consciousness of its own, and merely served the will of the caster. Elenyr thought of an entity as an extra appendage, one that required constant focus to maintain. Entities were frequently cast with weapons or tools, but Draeken’s entities always carried the same weapons.

  “Why does the water soldier always have a staff?” she’d asked once.

  Draeken had shrugged. “That’s what it wants.”

  Mind magic joined the others, forming a man of pure purple light. It was the only entity that never appeared with a weapon. Draeken smiled in triumph as the third soldier appeared at his side. Then he summoned the fourth.

  “Shadow will be difficult,” Elenyr cautioned. “Do not forget the amount of light.”

  “I know,” Draeken said as a person of shadow took shape.

  It was smaller than the others but no less solid, a dagger and a whip coiling away from its hands. Shadow magic was regarded as the weakest of the all the magics, and dissipated at the first touch of any light. Yet Draeken’s shadow entity held its form even in the face of a rising sun, an enigma Elenyr had yet to comprehend.

  Elenyr watched Draeken’s face as he worked to cast the last soldier of light. His face was fixed, his jaw set in a determined line, the light flowing from his fingers and shaped into the body of a final entity.

  The rule of entities was constant. The larger they were, the harder they were to cast, yet here Draeken demonstrated the control of a master, as if it was easy, as if he was born for it. Again Elenyr felt the spark of fear.

  The soldier of light took shape and raised its head, looking about, a smile on his face. Like the others he had a weapon, only his weapon was a curved blade without a handle. Like a shard of light, it could be thrown and returned with ease, or used up close. Draeken’s smile turned to triumph as the final soldier took its place.

  “Well done,” Elenyr said.

  “I told you I could,” he said, his dark eyes sparkling with victory.

  “Hold them together,” Elenyr said, watching his face. “You must stay focused or—”

  A hawk screeched, the sound close and grating. Draeken glanced its way, the distraction causing the soldier of light to brighten. He fought to control it, but the entity continued to brighten, swelling with light and power.

  “End the spell!” Elenyr warned, but Draeken jerked his head.

  “I can hold it!”

  But he couldn’t, and Elenyr saw what was coming. Unable to prevent it, she phased to ethereal as the soldier of light became blinding, and Elenyr braced for the detonation. Draeken’s shout of anger, of desperation, sent a shudder into the rock at Elenyr’s feet, and suddenly the soldier of light began to change shape.

  The light darkened, but not with power. Instead it darkened to flesh and clothing, the magic gaining a solidity as Draeken poured himself into the entity. Elenyr’s eyes widened in shock as the entity of Draeken . . . became Draeken.

  Her gaze flew to the youth but his body was evaporating like smoke, his expression one of horror and fear. The five entities leached Draeken’s flesh from his body, stripping his essence, draining him away until he was gone. All five of the entities gained the same solidity as the first—until one Draeken was replaced with five.

  “Draeken?” Elenyr asked, her voice uncertain.

  “What happened?” Water asked.

  “I still feel like it’s me,” Fire said, his voice the same, yet tinged with irritation.

  Light marveled at his fingers, his eyes bright with amusement. “I didn’t know I could do this.”

  “I shouldn’t be able to,” Shadow said, a smirk playing on his face as he examined his new skin.

  “What is happening?” Mind asked, turning to Elenyr.

  Their voices were all the same, as if a single mind had fractured into five fragments. Elenyr stared at them, shocked to silence. She’d studied magic for nearly nine hundred years, but the guardian charm was relatively new, and untested.

  Before she could respond, Light began to shimmer. He grimaced, the pain spreading to the others as each gained a matching expression of terror. They groaned in unison and their bodies began to flicker, like a candle about to go out.

  “Help me!” they cried.

  Elenyr took a step forward but a blast of power from Fire scorched the ground and he doubled over, groaning in agony. All at once they dropped to their knees, power leaking from their bodies. Their collective scream rent the dawn as the magics burned bright—and detonated.

  The blast cracked the stone and burnt the flowers to ash. It passed through Elenyr’s ethereal form, a superheated wave of power that ripped great chunks of rock free of the ledge and sent them tumbling to the valley below.

  Elenyr sprinted forward and found Draeken where Mind had stood. He lay on the ground, his hand gripping his stomach, his fingers white. He looked up at Elenyr with desperation in his eyes.

  “What am I?”

  Elenyr knelt and held his hand, burying her fear beneath a smile. “We’ll find out together.”

  He nodded before his eyes fluttered and his consciousness failed, leaving Elenyr on the devastated ledge. She stood and looked at the scorched stone and the fires licking at the rock, and wondered again what Draeken would become.

  Chapter 1: Dakorian

  Lira advanced through the forest, pulling her cloak tighter to ward off the chill. The sun had set hours ago and the second moon had risen, bathing the trees in dim light and revealing the native vegetation.

  Veins of green light pulsed in the trunks and limbs, the treeblood visible only at night through the thin membrane of bark. The liquid trickled upward, feeding the mushroomlike leaves, each glowing beneath the silvery light.

  She heard a faint footfall and slowed, glancing into the darkness beneath th
e trees. The forests of Grenedal were renowned for their beauty, but she vastly preferred the trees of Lumineia, her home.

  She drifted off the path, wrapping her cloak around herself just as a lumbering figure appeared on the ridge ahead. The creature stood at nine feet, its body layered in bone armor that grew from its own flesh. More bone wrapped around its head, forming two serrated horns that pointed downward.

  Dakorian.

  The soldier scanned the trees, his blue eyes passing over Lira where her shadow cloak bent the light, hiding her in darkness. She couldn’t resist a faint smile. The Krey Empire may have been vast, but none knew about Lumineia, or the magic its people possessed.

  He carried a giant, bladed hammer, the favored weapon for dakorians. The weapon had a hammer on the front with a sharp, curved blade on the back. It gathered energy from every impact, and the energy could be discharged in devastating blasts.

  He hefted its bulk as he turned about, sniffing the air. Then he grunted and turned back before descending from view. Lira waited until she was certain it was clear and then crept to the crest of the hill. From the vantage point she looked down on the small gathering.

  More dakorians hefted curved plates of metal, placing them to form a towering arch. Lira scanned the workers and spotted no humans, their absence noticeable. Within the Empire, mankind held the lowest caste, the slaves to the krey. Dakorians were the warrior caste, and abhorred manual labor, yet here they were, building what was obviously a Gate, the size of which would connect beyond Grenedal.

  Lira worked her way around the exterior of the camp until she spotted a trio of krey talking at the corner of the camp. Thin and wiry, the krey resembled humans in size, but their white skin and luminous purple eyes set them apart.

  As the aristocratic caste of the Empire, the krey owned everything, even the lives of their slaves. Of the three krey supervising the construction of the Gate, one had a red band around his neck, indicating fifth tier, while the other two had blue bands around their throats, the swirling purple marking them as second tier. Royals.