The Chosen, Kris Kramer [reading e books .TXT] 📗

RISE OF CITHRIA

THE CHOSEN

by

Kris Kramer, Alistair McIntyre, Patrick Underhill

Book 1 of Rise of Cithria

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

www.the4threalm.com

Rise of Cithria – The Chosen

Copyright © 2013 by Kris Kramer, Alistair McIntyre, Patrick Underhill

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Cover artwork by Marek Purzycki

http://igreeny.deviantart.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/igreeny-Graphics/123983141043597

The4threalm.com

The authors of this work are part of the4threalm.com, a group of writers who work, edit, critique and publish collaboratively. They would like to invite you to see more of their work, along with that of several other talented people, at the site below. And be sure to participate in the discussion. The4threalm.com is nothing without its readers!

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Rise of Cithria Books

Book 1 - The Chosen

Book 2 - The Descent

Book 3 - The Breaking

Book 4 - The Master

Book 5 - The Exodus

Book 6 - The Siege

Click to see the full-sized image.

A Note From The Authors

This will be quick. Promise. 

For most of you, the story you're about to read won't be told in a way you're accustomed to seeing. As indie authors, we're allowed quite a bit more latitude in how we tell our stories than we would be if we were working with a traditional publisher. Which is fortunate for us, since this is a story that requires quite a bit of latitude. 

Rise of Cithria is a big story. Over twenty main characters, from multiple kingdoms and realms, told across three different storylines that all converge only to be split once or twice more. The breadth of this tale could require us to write nearly 750,000 words by the time it's done, and that's only if we keep the plot moving pretty briskly. That's too big to be condensed into a single volume. Well, that's not entirely true. Thanks to the lack of size limitations with ebooks, it could be one book, and we may just do that once it's complete. But we're also dealing with print versions as well, and a story this big can't really be printed in a nice little book without squeezing a thousand words onto each page.

So we decided early on that we'd have to break this story up quite a bit to tell it, and that meant releasing it as five separate books, or parts. The Chosen, the Descent, the Breaking, the Master, and the Siege. Parts 1 through 5 of the Rise of Cithria series. But lots of fantasy stories have multiple books. Why is this one any different from those? 

Well, the difference is that each book is not a complete story in and of itself. It's merely part of a bigger story, one that will be told over the course of the series. That means we'll need you, our readers, to bear with us until we reach the end of this exciting endeavor. So think of this book, and the ones that follow, as smaller pieces of a larger whole. A slice of literary cake, or pie, or cheesecake, depending on what you prefer. Each book stops at what we consider to be a natural break point, typically in the guise of a cliffhanger. We like some drama and suspense in our stories, and we hope you do, too. So when you reach the end of this book, don't be shocked. Be glad that you have at least four more chances to spend time with these characters.

Prologue

When the Thandaran Empire arrived five centuries ago, they found an untamed, fertile island called Andua. As with every other new land they discovered, the Thandarans subjugated the Anduain people, including the old races of elves, nuathreens and firbolgs. They renamed the island Caldera, and colonized it with their own citizens. Over time, the Anduains and their culture diminished, retreating to the west, into the oldest, most remote areas of the island imaginable. They were hunted, and persecuted, but they endured, and they kept their stories and history alive for centuries, until the moment finally came when the Thandarans left the island, retreating to their besieged homeland far across the sea.

With no Thandaran army to keep the peace, the island fractured. The east, under the control of former Thandaran nobility, remained Caldera. The west became Andua once again. And lurking across the narrow sea to the north was the land of Bergmark, home to fierce havtrols, opportunistic dwarves, and magic-wielding humans. War broke out, leading to chaos, death and destruction… until Damhran, grandson of a Thandaran clerk, ascended to Caldera’s throne.

Damhran rallied the Calderan forces to victory after victory, eventually claiming most of the island, staying the hand of Bergmark, and forcing Andua into a tenuous peace. From his home in Corendar, the capital city of Caldera, Damhran presided over an era of prosperity unprecedented in the history of the three realms. But resentments and rivalries simmered below the surface. Damhran’s peace strained, but held for almost forty years – until the day the Century Star appeared.

The Century Star grew bright in the sky, and then faded away, as it did every hundred years, and its arrival triggered prophecy, introspection, and devastation. Damhran saw the star as a sign that his time as King had run its course. A young Anduain warrior named Darren believed that the star signaled the rise of his people. In Bergmark, however, the star coincided with a tragedy, as a volcano erupted, destroying the dwarven kingdom and covering the lands of Bergmark in fire and ash.

War came once again. Damhran retired, passing the throne to his son, who was ill-prepared to handle it. Darren ascended the throne of a new Andua, and he rallied his people to the cause of freedom as their King. And the people of Bergmark, with no lands left to sustain them, invaded the island, looking to claim greener pastures.

For seventeen years now these nations have fought, trading lands, glory, and lives. The balance of power has shifted back and forth among them, but none of the three kingdoms has managed to strike a blow decisive enough to claim a final victory. But times are changing. Bergmark’s fierce yet ageing armies have slowly dwindled in numbers, and Andua’s forces have suffered several notable defeats. Caldera, long under siege, is at the brink of victory.

But old enemies lurk beneath the surface, waiting for the right time to strike. The three kingdoms, weakened by decades of war, are at their most vulnerable. The fate of these lands, and their people, is at stake.

A new war is coming.

Caldera

Chapter 1

“Coward! Coward!”

The word stabbed at Aiden, like the point of a knife in his back. The mob of children had gathered at the edge of Alvarton’s market, where the uneven stone paths turned into a worn, grassy road. They chanted the word over and over, as if singing a verse in some cruel playground song. He walked away as stoically as he could manage with a beaten cloth sack slung over his shoulder and the hood of his worn, frayed red cloak pulled low over his face, hiding what everyone already knew to be there. He hated coming here for this very reason. If he could afford it, he would have sent someone else to pick up his food, but he barely had the money to feed himself. That meant he had no choice but to suffer through this lonely, humiliating ordeal every time his pantry emptied out. The kids would taunt him loudly, the adults would scorn him silently, and he would try to get through it all fast enough that none of the local toughs would think to provoke a fight.

By now, the adults knew him on sight. His sturdy Sotheran build and the fact that he owned only one dingy old army cloak always gave him away to the locals. They rarely said anything to him, though, at least not to his face. As long as he had some spare coin to spread around, the merchants in Alvarton would take it. They’d wait until after he left to call him the Coward, or the Wolf Cub, or whatever new nickname had made the rounds in the pub. The children weren’t so forgiving.

The fat, freckle-faced son of a woman hawking bread had recognized him, and it had taken only seconds before he’d scampered off to tell the other village children that the Coward was back. He only had time to buy bread, a small wheel of cheese and a cheap flagon of wine before they began congregating in the center of the market, pointing and laughing. As soon as he had left and moved onto the east road, they’d gathered at the edge of the town center, near the mile marker, taunting him.

“Coward! Coward!”

No matter how many times he heard that word, the sting never lessened, and neither did his fear that this would be his fate for eternity... to be mocked by children until he died of old age, worthless to his people and to his kingdom. Blood rushed to his face in shame, as it always did when he left this place, and the brand on his left cheek grew hot. He rubbed it absent-mindedly, a rough-edged 'C' burned onto the side of his face. He'd tried growing a beard to cover it up but that only made it more noticeable since the hair around the brand didn't grow. Not that it mattered. By now, everyone in this part of Caldera knew who he was and what he'd been. He ignored the sounds of thrown rocks landing harmlessly on the ground behind him, and trudged along the path, hoping only to get home without incident. The sun would be up for another two or three hours, which was roughly how long it would take to reach his small home in the hills. Once there, he could throw off his clothes, eat a meager dinner, drink some cheap wine, and try to forget about his fate for a few precious minutes before falling into a merciful, drunken stupor.

Unfortunately, an incident seemed to be coming his way.

Aiden saw it out of the corner of his eye - the smooth silhouette of a hooded bandit lurking in the thick woods to his right. Whoever he was, he was cocky, because he followed far too closely for someone who should value subtlety and stealth. Aiden kept his hood low and his gait steady, trying not to tip off his pursuer that he could see him darting from shadow to shadow. The bandit made no noise, which suggested some skill at stalking prey, but he apparently thought Aiden's hood blocked his vision because he was far too careless about keeping his profile low. Aiden gritted his teeth. It was only a matter of time before the bandit attacked, looking for an easy target on a secluded road, and Aiden had no weapon, and thus no way to defend himself. He’d taken to leaving his sword at home to avoid even more raised eyebrows when coming to town. Had he brought it, he could have taught this bandit a painful lesson about stalking a former armsman of the Sotheran Army. But with no sword, he’d be at the bandit's mercy if he didn't have a good plan.

The clop of hoof beats caught his attention, and he turned to see two horse-drawn carts moving