As I work to bring us up to speed again, enjoy this preview of the first Comalan novel, Death Touch, which is set to be completed eventually, I'm sure. I'll be serializing the entire backlog of chapters as I continue to write.
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Sara
Palon is a quiet place. Sara thought this to herself as she trekked to the top of the grassy hill of a local park. The village, which was nearing its twentieth year, was only barely founded within her lifetime. There wasn't much to see here; this place was far out of anyone's way, so there wasn't much incentive for it to expand. Less than two dozen houses, four shops, one inn and a modest infirmary dotted the lush green hills of this southland hamlet. It was no place for children, to be sure. Many of the men Sara met at the inn were adventurers preparing to hike Lightning Ridge, which lie nearby to the northwest. It was clear that they were the whole purpose of this village's existence.
For Sara, it was just a stop on her way home. She had been traveling west from Blackstone Monastery en route to her hometown of Beldor. But as the sun began to crest over the mountains to the west, she decided that this was the place she would rest for the night. The sky's fading golden light glistened through her silken auburn hair as she wandered up a narrow path toward the top of a steep hill. She was fascinated by the massive white tree that was nestled in its pinnacle. A massive cluster of round orange leaves clung to its bleached branches. This tree was a rare sight, one she recognized as Whitebark's Promise.
She breathed a sigh of reverence as she reached the end of the path and passed under the tree's extraordinary canopy. The air here wafted with a pleasant, minty aroma that brought back memories of drinking tea back in the gardens of the monastery. Through her study in the Serene faith, she knew that such calming places were nearly always meaningful. It was for this reason that she walked close to the tree and pressed her palm to its trunk. She felt what she expected as she did so. Her pulse slowed, her mind began to float with euphoria and her breathing became easier. She nodded to herself, satisfied that she had found her place to meditate.
She straightened the hem of her dark green travel robes before sitting cross-legged at the base of the tree. She then inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, leaning back very slowly. When her head came to rest against the bark, she released her breath. She chose to contemplate the calming silence of the village around her to lull herself into the trance she sought. There were no predators, evil presences, or abnormal weather conditions to worry her. In this place, she was free from danger and so she could, just for now, feel completely at peace. In this blissful solitude, she prayed, she would feel the loving peace that was the gift of Serenity.
It did not take long for her to fall deeply into her trance. It was in this state that she hoped to commune with the goddess through prayer. Although it was technically possible for anyone to reach this state, no one could do so more easily than her. It was this gift that guided her to the Serene faith. Already, at the age of 21, she had already accomplished what had taken her elders twice her lifetime. The spiritual connection she had formed with the sacred realm of Fadal had begun to grow to the point where she almost believed she could actually hear Serenity's voice.
In her trance, Sara thought of none of this. This was the time for her to focus on the ruminations that drove her to leave the sanctuary. The last time she had gone into a prayer trance, the day before, she had sensed Serenity saying words that made no sense to her. She could usually only hear the voice speaking disjointed words, but for the first time, she heard several complete phrases. The only one she remembered was the most damning: lulled into complacency.
The elders had readily believed Sara's claim of sensing the goddess' gentle voice until she mentioned what she heard. There was much disagreement over the implications of those words. Some believed that this was a warning, but most saw these words as proof that she was not truly hearing Serenity's words. The more they argued, though, the more certain Sara was that she had heard what she believed. However, she could not add anything new to the increasingly redundant discussion. She was not the first to consider what she now believed to be the meaning of those words.
The Serene Church is in trouble, she had determined. For centuries, those of her faith had paid tribute to a goddess they always believed would protect them from the dangers of the world and maintain the peace with her own power. But if she were threatened, what use would her acolytes be to her if they had known nothing but perfect tranquility? When the goddess spoke, she could sense the desperation in her voice. There was something to this the others weren't seeing, but she couldn't put her finger on it. This revelation brought discord to the Serene quarter of the monastery for the first time in living memory, so it wasn't a shock to anyone when she chose to leave.
When she first put her home of seven years behind her, she planned to travel north to Resta's capitol city, where she could consult the leaders of her faith. But then she thought about how the elders had responded to her warnings. There was little chance that she would get there before word from the monastery elders, so there was every chance that the city would already be tense on her arrival. Time was clearly against her.
What she needed was guidance of the sort that the elders had failed for the first time to give her. Without mentors to rely on, all she could do is pray again. So she prayed, beseeching the goddess to tell her the meaning of her dark words. She did not know what to expect this time. Every time she went into trance, she could feel the words becoming clearer. But as she drifted along in her mind, she slowly became aware that she didn't hear the voice at all this time. Her blood turned to ice with the sudden fear that she had made a mistake. Was she to be excommunicated for disrupting the harmony of her former sanctum?
That fear nearly brought her out of her trance, but just as she felt herself rising, she was calmed by a sudden sensation of a long pair of gentle arms closing around her shoulders. When she settled back down, she already knew what had happened. She couldn't explain the sensation, but, somehow she was certain that Serenity was with her, encircling the young acolyte in her comforting embrace. Sara asked the goddess the question that was burning through her mind and, to her surprise, Serenity answered in a clear voice.
“Sara Marle, I knew you would understand.”
Sara's heart skipped as she took in this complete sentence. She still didn't completely understand yet, but her suspicions were confirmed. She sighed deeply, firmly controlling the elation that also threatened her trance. To hear a deity's voice so clearly was unheard of and she didn't want to lose that feeling so soon. Although a chill wind was beginning across the hilltops in the dusk, she felt unbelievably warm.
“My lady! I am honored by the sound of your voice!” the priestess declared, unsure of what else she could possibly say to the goddess.
“Be at peace, Sara. My people and mortalkind alike live in troubled times, but for now, you are safe,” Serenity whispered soothingly.
There it was, the gods were in danger. Although Sara wanted to gasp, she could not find the fear that should have been the result of this revelation. So powerful was Serenity's calming aura that she might have just been told that nothing was wrong at all. She could not afford to lose herself in her calm, though; that was the mistake that her detractors at the monastery seemed to be making. There had to be a reason that Serenity was talking to her now.
“I do feel calm, but I must ask what you mean by troubled times.”
“It is my daughter,” Serenity replied somberly. “She has once again escaped our world and haunts yours once more.”
Sara could not quell her gasp this time. Serenity could only be talking about Maula, the Goddess of Death. She recalled what she remembered of her instantly, for every deity was the subject of an acolyte's studies. She was the daughter of the God of War and Goddess of Tranquility and a potential heir to the sacred realm. Two hundred years ago she descended upon Comalan in rebellion against her parents. It was said she crushed the land of Resta under a wave of death, hence the title by which everyone described her.
She had nearly wiped out the entire population of Resta before being driven back by four champions. At first there was Nicholai Desmond, the champion of Chaos and Helen Winstrom, the champion of Serenity. They were joined later by Artix Maloran, the crown prince of Resta and Orion the Elven Queen. They devised a spell of some sort that had driven Maula back to Fadal, where the deities and dead souls roam. This legend was central to Resta's history as it was the biggest catastrophe it had experienced since the tragedy that led to its founding. If she was truly back, she would almost certainly have grown more powerful in the last two centuries. Many more people could die this time.
Sensing Sara's growing fear, Serenity continued soothingly. “It will be alright, my child. The mortalkind are surprising creatures. When she was banished the first time, the four mortals who were responsible foresaw her return. They left behind their secrets so that when she did, someone would be able to send her back to us once more. All that is required is someone with the courage to follow in their footsteps.”
Although Sara had relaxed somewhat with the hope that someone could do what was done before, Sara felt a chill in her blood upon hearing the goddess' last sentence. She could not explain why, but she knew she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.
“I long believed that Helen's grace and determination were without equal, but I have watched over you for twelve years. When first you knelt before an altar to me, I sensed something familiar. Not since Helen's death have I felt such sincere devotion to my ideals. When you pledged yourself to the Doctrine of Tranquility, despite many urgings to the contrary, I felt that I had found what I was looking for. So I nurtured you on your path through the faith. You've demonstrated your grace for many years and in leaving the monastery, you have demonstrated that you are incredibly determined. You are, or at least will be, her equal.”
Sara was torn with conflict. On one hand, she believed that Serenity must be wrong about her. But on the other, she had believed her entire life that Serenity couldn't be wrong about something like this. She didn't believe she was equal to what Serenity was clearly asking, but she must try.
“My Goddess, are you sure? I don't share any of Helen's bravery or strength!”
“My dear, when have I ever prized strength? Mortal historians have never forgotten that Helen was a formidable warrior, but that is not what I asked of her and it isn't what I am asking of you now.”
“But what makes me so special?” Sara asked in the desperate hope that the goddess might reconsider,
“How can devotion to the Doctrine of Tranquility help me to banish a deity?”
“You are not the one who will banish Maula,” Serenity declared flatly, “What I ask of you instead is to keep the peace. When my daughter sets her plans in motion, many will suffer. I will need someone to convince those who remain that we have not forsaken them. You must heal their wounds, ease their troubles, and protect them from despair.”
This sounded more like a burden Sara thought she could bear. She had indeed feared that she would be expected to fight on Serenity’s behalf, but she had spent her entire life learning to heal the hearts and bodies of those in need. But this left an obvious question in her mind.
“If I am not to banish Lady Maula,” she asked carefully, “Who is?”
“You will be aided in your quest by others chosen by each member of my family,” Serenity said matter-of-factly. “Two of them can be found close to where you sit, but the rest will not join you for quite some time.”
That changes things was the first thought on Sara’s mind upon hearing this response. Although reconnecting with the other members of her faith to relay this new information remained vital, she also knew she mustn’t leave without finding these other two champions.
“Thank you, my lady,” Sara said with a smile to herself. “I think I know what must be done now.”
With that, the heavy, tranquil feeling that had accompanied her trance had begun to dissipate, leaving only the words, “Trust me, trust your comrades, and trust yourself.”
Then, Sara had found herself alone once more, uncomfortably aware of the early evening chill that hung over the hills. She stood up once more, shaking the numbness out of her legs. She had planned to press on into the night, but given her sudden decision to remain in Palon, she resolved to get a room at the inn instead. As she began to descend the hill, however, a sudden gust had caused her to lose her footing and send her tumbling all the way to the bottom of the hill.
As she lay there on the ground with a throbbing pain in every part of her body that could feel pain, she cursed her own luck. The first steps of my journey, she thought sourly before she passed out, inwardly thankfully that there had been nothing on the hill for her body to hit besides tall grass.
Further into the foothills, a burly man with short copper hair and a young woman with braided raven-colored hair had noticed Sara’s fall and rushed to help.
Next Chapter
__________________
Sara
Palon is a quiet place. Sara thought this to herself as she trekked to the top of the grassy hill of a local park. The village, which was nearing its twentieth year, was only barely founded within her lifetime. There wasn't much to see here; this place was far out of anyone's way, so there wasn't much incentive for it to expand. Less than two dozen houses, four shops, one inn and a modest infirmary dotted the lush green hills of this southland hamlet. It was no place for children, to be sure. Many of the men Sara met at the inn were adventurers preparing to hike Lightning Ridge, which lie nearby to the northwest. It was clear that they were the whole purpose of this village's existence.
For Sara, it was just a stop on her way home. She had been traveling west from Blackstone Monastery en route to her hometown of Beldor. But as the sun began to crest over the mountains to the west, she decided that this was the place she would rest for the night. The sky's fading golden light glistened through her silken auburn hair as she wandered up a narrow path toward the top of a steep hill. She was fascinated by the massive white tree that was nestled in its pinnacle. A massive cluster of round orange leaves clung to its bleached branches. This tree was a rare sight, one she recognized as Whitebark's Promise.
She breathed a sigh of reverence as she reached the end of the path and passed under the tree's extraordinary canopy. The air here wafted with a pleasant, minty aroma that brought back memories of drinking tea back in the gardens of the monastery. Through her study in the Serene faith, she knew that such calming places were nearly always meaningful. It was for this reason that she walked close to the tree and pressed her palm to its trunk. She felt what she expected as she did so. Her pulse slowed, her mind began to float with euphoria and her breathing became easier. She nodded to herself, satisfied that she had found her place to meditate.
She straightened the hem of her dark green travel robes before sitting cross-legged at the base of the tree. She then inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, leaning back very slowly. When her head came to rest against the bark, she released her breath. She chose to contemplate the calming silence of the village around her to lull herself into the trance she sought. There were no predators, evil presences, or abnormal weather conditions to worry her. In this place, she was free from danger and so she could, just for now, feel completely at peace. In this blissful solitude, she prayed, she would feel the loving peace that was the gift of Serenity.
It did not take long for her to fall deeply into her trance. It was in this state that she hoped to commune with the goddess through prayer. Although it was technically possible for anyone to reach this state, no one could do so more easily than her. It was this gift that guided her to the Serene faith. Already, at the age of 21, she had already accomplished what had taken her elders twice her lifetime. The spiritual connection she had formed with the sacred realm of Fadal had begun to grow to the point where she almost believed she could actually hear Serenity's voice.
In her trance, Sara thought of none of this. This was the time for her to focus on the ruminations that drove her to leave the sanctuary. The last time she had gone into a prayer trance, the day before, she had sensed Serenity saying words that made no sense to her. She could usually only hear the voice speaking disjointed words, but for the first time, she heard several complete phrases. The only one she remembered was the most damning: lulled into complacency.
The elders had readily believed Sara's claim of sensing the goddess' gentle voice until she mentioned what she heard. There was much disagreement over the implications of those words. Some believed that this was a warning, but most saw these words as proof that she was not truly hearing Serenity's words. The more they argued, though, the more certain Sara was that she had heard what she believed. However, she could not add anything new to the increasingly redundant discussion. She was not the first to consider what she now believed to be the meaning of those words.
The Serene Church is in trouble, she had determined. For centuries, those of her faith had paid tribute to a goddess they always believed would protect them from the dangers of the world and maintain the peace with her own power. But if she were threatened, what use would her acolytes be to her if they had known nothing but perfect tranquility? When the goddess spoke, she could sense the desperation in her voice. There was something to this the others weren't seeing, but she couldn't put her finger on it. This revelation brought discord to the Serene quarter of the monastery for the first time in living memory, so it wasn't a shock to anyone when she chose to leave.
When she first put her home of seven years behind her, she planned to travel north to Resta's capitol city, where she could consult the leaders of her faith. But then she thought about how the elders had responded to her warnings. There was little chance that she would get there before word from the monastery elders, so there was every chance that the city would already be tense on her arrival. Time was clearly against her.
What she needed was guidance of the sort that the elders had failed for the first time to give her. Without mentors to rely on, all she could do is pray again. So she prayed, beseeching the goddess to tell her the meaning of her dark words. She did not know what to expect this time. Every time she went into trance, she could feel the words becoming clearer. But as she drifted along in her mind, she slowly became aware that she didn't hear the voice at all this time. Her blood turned to ice with the sudden fear that she had made a mistake. Was she to be excommunicated for disrupting the harmony of her former sanctum?
That fear nearly brought her out of her trance, but just as she felt herself rising, she was calmed by a sudden sensation of a long pair of gentle arms closing around her shoulders. When she settled back down, she already knew what had happened. She couldn't explain the sensation, but, somehow she was certain that Serenity was with her, encircling the young acolyte in her comforting embrace. Sara asked the goddess the question that was burning through her mind and, to her surprise, Serenity answered in a clear voice.
“Sara Marle, I knew you would understand.”
Sara's heart skipped as she took in this complete sentence. She still didn't completely understand yet, but her suspicions were confirmed. She sighed deeply, firmly controlling the elation that also threatened her trance. To hear a deity's voice so clearly was unheard of and she didn't want to lose that feeling so soon. Although a chill wind was beginning across the hilltops in the dusk, she felt unbelievably warm.
“My lady! I am honored by the sound of your voice!” the priestess declared, unsure of what else she could possibly say to the goddess.
“Be at peace, Sara. My people and mortalkind alike live in troubled times, but for now, you are safe,” Serenity whispered soothingly.
There it was, the gods were in danger. Although Sara wanted to gasp, she could not find the fear that should have been the result of this revelation. So powerful was Serenity's calming aura that she might have just been told that nothing was wrong at all. She could not afford to lose herself in her calm, though; that was the mistake that her detractors at the monastery seemed to be making. There had to be a reason that Serenity was talking to her now.
“I do feel calm, but I must ask what you mean by troubled times.”
“It is my daughter,” Serenity replied somberly. “She has once again escaped our world and haunts yours once more.”
Sara could not quell her gasp this time. Serenity could only be talking about Maula, the Goddess of Death. She recalled what she remembered of her instantly, for every deity was the subject of an acolyte's studies. She was the daughter of the God of War and Goddess of Tranquility and a potential heir to the sacred realm. Two hundred years ago she descended upon Comalan in rebellion against her parents. It was said she crushed the land of Resta under a wave of death, hence the title by which everyone described her.
She had nearly wiped out the entire population of Resta before being driven back by four champions. At first there was Nicholai Desmond, the champion of Chaos and Helen Winstrom, the champion of Serenity. They were joined later by Artix Maloran, the crown prince of Resta and Orion the Elven Queen. They devised a spell of some sort that had driven Maula back to Fadal, where the deities and dead souls roam. This legend was central to Resta's history as it was the biggest catastrophe it had experienced since the tragedy that led to its founding. If she was truly back, she would almost certainly have grown more powerful in the last two centuries. Many more people could die this time.
Sensing Sara's growing fear, Serenity continued soothingly. “It will be alright, my child. The mortalkind are surprising creatures. When she was banished the first time, the four mortals who were responsible foresaw her return. They left behind their secrets so that when she did, someone would be able to send her back to us once more. All that is required is someone with the courage to follow in their footsteps.”
Although Sara had relaxed somewhat with the hope that someone could do what was done before, Sara felt a chill in her blood upon hearing the goddess' last sentence. She could not explain why, but she knew she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.
“I long believed that Helen's grace and determination were without equal, but I have watched over you for twelve years. When first you knelt before an altar to me, I sensed something familiar. Not since Helen's death have I felt such sincere devotion to my ideals. When you pledged yourself to the Doctrine of Tranquility, despite many urgings to the contrary, I felt that I had found what I was looking for. So I nurtured you on your path through the faith. You've demonstrated your grace for many years and in leaving the monastery, you have demonstrated that you are incredibly determined. You are, or at least will be, her equal.”
Sara was torn with conflict. On one hand, she believed that Serenity must be wrong about her. But on the other, she had believed her entire life that Serenity couldn't be wrong about something like this. She didn't believe she was equal to what Serenity was clearly asking, but she must try.
“My Goddess, are you sure? I don't share any of Helen's bravery or strength!”
“My dear, when have I ever prized strength? Mortal historians have never forgotten that Helen was a formidable warrior, but that is not what I asked of her and it isn't what I am asking of you now.”
“But what makes me so special?” Sara asked in the desperate hope that the goddess might reconsider,
“How can devotion to the Doctrine of Tranquility help me to banish a deity?”
“You are not the one who will banish Maula,” Serenity declared flatly, “What I ask of you instead is to keep the peace. When my daughter sets her plans in motion, many will suffer. I will need someone to convince those who remain that we have not forsaken them. You must heal their wounds, ease their troubles, and protect them from despair.”
This sounded more like a burden Sara thought she could bear. She had indeed feared that she would be expected to fight on Serenity’s behalf, but she had spent her entire life learning to heal the hearts and bodies of those in need. But this left an obvious question in her mind.
“If I am not to banish Lady Maula,” she asked carefully, “Who is?”
“You will be aided in your quest by others chosen by each member of my family,” Serenity said matter-of-factly. “Two of them can be found close to where you sit, but the rest will not join you for quite some time.”
That changes things was the first thought on Sara’s mind upon hearing this response. Although reconnecting with the other members of her faith to relay this new information remained vital, she also knew she mustn’t leave without finding these other two champions.
“Thank you, my lady,” Sara said with a smile to herself. “I think I know what must be done now.”
With that, the heavy, tranquil feeling that had accompanied her trance had begun to dissipate, leaving only the words, “Trust me, trust your comrades, and trust yourself.”
Then, Sara had found herself alone once more, uncomfortably aware of the early evening chill that hung over the hills. She stood up once more, shaking the numbness out of her legs. She had planned to press on into the night, but given her sudden decision to remain in Palon, she resolved to get a room at the inn instead. As she began to descend the hill, however, a sudden gust had caused her to lose her footing and send her tumbling all the way to the bottom of the hill.
As she lay there on the ground with a throbbing pain in every part of her body that could feel pain, she cursed her own luck. The first steps of my journey, she thought sourly before she passed out, inwardly thankfully that there had been nothing on the hill for her body to hit besides tall grass.
Further into the foothills, a burly man with short copper hair and a young woman with braided raven-colored hair had noticed Sara’s fall and rushed to help.
Next Chapter
Cool. Happy Sunday.
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