Deliverance

  DELIVERANCE

  by

  Brittany Comeaux

  Text © 2012-2014, Brittany Comeaux

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Art © 2013-2014 Brittany Comeaux

  Crystal © stock image, Kyla Andersen

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  The lingering odor of arid smoke filled the dawn air over a small village now lay in a pile of ash after a brutal attack. The vicious attack was carried out the previous night by soldiers from the kingdom of Daldussa. The village they ravaged was in Cierith, a smaller kingdom that lay to the east of Daldussa. Only three nights before, the invading king had sent out his troops to take the rest of the land. This village was one of the first of many that suffered at the hands of the greedy king of Daldussa.

  Fortunately, a small group of soldiers from Cierith that escaped from Cartigo with the last member of the royal family, the princess, and they were staying in the village during the attack. Since she was only a child, the villagers, who were so loyal to their beloved king, sheltered the little princess without hesitation. Daldussan soldiers raided the village a few hours later and ordered the citizens to hand the princess over, but they refused. As punishment for the villagers’ insolence, the Daldussan soldiers then burned the village to the ground and even though many lives were lost that day, the Cierith soldiers fought with all of their strength and managed to halt the attack and save as many people as they could.

  “How many survivors are there?” asked a tall, armored knight. He had just plunged his sword into the back of a Daldussan soldier at his feet and was speaking to a Cierithian foot soldier who stood a few feet away.

  “Only half a dozen or so, General Fletcher. There were so many Daldussan soldiers that we could only save a small group of villagers,” replied the soldier. The general was not from Daldussa, but from Cierith and he wore lighter colored armor of silver with gold trim and had a long, royal blue cape that floated in the breeze behind him. The battle helm he wore on his head matched his body armor and covered the sides of his face and his nose. Enough of his face was visible to see his black goatee and warm, brown eyes.

  The general looked behind the other Cierith soldier present to see a group of village refugees huddling together, trying in vain to comfort one another after the horrors they had witnessed in the middle of the night. The early morning light peeked over the horizon, but was in no way a new beginning for anyone in Cierith.

  “You did your best, as did the other soldiers. Sometimes one can only save so many innocents from harm,” the general regretfully muttered. The general then looked around and noticed the other soldiers that escaped from the castle with him, but then he realized someone was missing. “Where is the princess?” he asked in a panic.

  The soldiers all heard him and looked around frantically, muttering to each other, “I thought she was with you!”

  The general suddenly looked in the direction of a pile of burnt wood where an inn used to be and his heart sank.

  “AMELIA!” he yelled, dropping his sword and dashing into the rubble. He anxiously sifted through the wreckage to find the floor, praying with all of his soul that she was all right. A few of the other soldiers came to help him, and eventually, the general spotted the door that opened to a cellar under the floor. He lifted the door and peeked inside and, with a great sigh of relief, saw the shape of a little girl huddling in the corner, clutching her doll to her chest. She was weeping and didn’t look up when she saw light.

  “Thank goodness! Amelia, are you hurt?” the general asked the little girl.

  The frail little child managed to mutter, “My arm hurts.”

  The general quickly jumped down into the room, pick up Amelia, and carry her out of the cellar. The first thing he noticed when they reached the sunlight was blood on her night dress and her doll. The general found a place to set her down, while trying to shield her from the ruined village. After she was seated at the foot of a tree, the general rolled up her sleeve to check for a wound and saw a long gash on the top of her forearm. The general called another soldier over to clean it and wrap it with bandages.

  “The poor child,” muttered one of the other soldiers as the general walked away from Amelia.

  “What are we going to do now, General? Where can we take her?” asked another soldier.

  “The old mage who trained her mother lives in the Dwarven Mountains, and since the dwarves were friends of the king, we should have no trouble seeking refuge there, especially because we have Amelia,” explained the general.

  “Oh, I think remember him. What was his name again?” asked the first soldier.

  “Thaddeus. Amelia has inherited some magic power from her mother, and so it would be best that she learns to defend herself for when she is older. Until then, I will not break my promise to her father. Before he was killed, he begged me to protect her with my life and I vowed on my sword that I would,” replied the general.

  “G-general?” stuttered the soldier tending to Amelia. When the general turned around, he came upon a heartbreaking sight.

  Amelia stared at the wreckage of the village. Meek and small as she was, she clutched her doll in one hand and let it hang by her side as she stared helplessly at the burnt buildings and corpses. The general saw the little girl start to shake, and so he slowly walked around her and knelt down in front of her. The general removed his helmet to reveal a soft, sad expression. The soldiers were taken aback by this since they were used to the stern, stone-like expression that the general usually wore. The general’s warm brown eyes locked onto Amelia’s big green ones and without a word, he embraced her and let her cry on his shoulder.

  “Is this . . . my fault?” she cried.

  “No, no, no; this is not your fault,” the general said softly. He then pulled her off of his shoulder, looked her in the eyes again, and said, “Listen to me, Amelia. There are very bad people in this world, some of whom will kill others to get the things they want. You’ve just witnessed what bad people can be capable of. However, just as there are bad people, there are also a lot of good people.”

  The little girl sniffed and with a weak smile, asked, “Like my mommy?”

  The general managed to smile, “Yes, your mommy was a very good person, and she loved you more than anything.”

  “My daddy was a good person too, right?” Amelia innocently asked.

  “Amelia, your father was without a doubt the bravest and kindest man I have ever met. Your parents were very good people, and they raised you to be the same way. They did not deserve their fate, and you don’t deserve to suffer as you have,” replied the general.

  Just then, two more Cierith soldiers came running over a hill next to the village. One of them gasped, “General Fletcher! More Daldussan troops are coming! This time, the king is with them!”

  “Damn! Why in the world is he coming too?” one of the soldiers cursed.

  “They probably haven’t heard any word from the ones we’ve killed, so the king is most likely coming to see
to this matter himself,” said the general.

  “This . . . this king is a bad person, huh?” Amelia asked, even though the poor child knew the answer.

  The general looked at her, sighed, and said, “Yes, Amelia. In fact, he is as bad as they come. His name is Bogdan Dracnov, and he is the cruelest, most vile human being alive. I know now that he will stop at nothing to find you.”

  “But why?” asked the little girl with big watery eyes.

  The general sighed again and said, “You don’t want this to happen again, do you?”

  The little girl glanced at the ruins again and shook her head. Her messy, light brown hair bounced around her shoulders as she did.

  “Well, I’m afraid this will keep happening until the king finds you. You are the only member of the royal family that is still alive, and so until you are dead, the king will continue to destroy villages and towns looking for you. However,” the general paused when he saw Amelia’s eyes start to well up again and then continued, “If we can make him think that you died here today as he intended, he will not hurt any more people to try and find you. No more innocent people will be killed looking for you, but you will still live. Are you willing to leave your old life behind for the benefit of your people, Princess Amelia Atteberry?”

  The little girl looked down at her slippers for a moment and then looked back at the general and tearfully nodded. When he grabbed her doll from her hand, however, she protested.

  “No! Don’t take her!” she cried, trying to pull it back.

  “Amelia, I’m sorry, but I need you to be strong. You’re a big girl now and I am sorry your childhood had to end this way, but we have no choice,” the general replied.

  Amelia then tearfully and gradually released her grip on the doll.

  The general then handed it to one of the other soldiers and said, “I want you to dress in the Daldussan armor from one of the soldiers we killed and present that to the king when he arrives. Tell him that her body was burned beyond recognition, but that you killed her yourself and guarantee that she’s dead. I’ll be waiting with Amelia a mile south of here; when you get a chance, tell the other soldiers you are going to check out the area and head in our direction. All of us will then continue south to the Dwarven Mountains.”

  “Yes, General!” the soldier replied, saluting.

  The general stood and placed his helm back onto his head. Amelia grabbed his armored hand, which seemed to swallow her little hand whole, and asked in a weak voice, “Gavril, what are we going to do once we get to Master Thaddeus’s house?”

  Gavril stood still for a moment, and then looked down at the little girl and replied, “I don’t know. We will just have to move one day at a time and try our best to survive whatever trials may come next.”

  CHAPTER 1

  Crystal awoke with a start from a troubling dream that had been reoccurring every night for several weeks. In the dream, she always saw an enormous shadow and a blood red glow in the sky. Every night the terrifying creature wreaked havoc on the land, brutally killing everyone in its path.

  The part that frightened Crystal the most was that the shadow seemed to look directly into her eyes. Its eyes were blood red like the sky, and when she looked back at them, it seemed that the cold whisper of death whispered her name. The dream always ended with a red beam shooting straight into the sky, causing the earth to shake violently.

  Crystal came back to reality and looked above her headboard through the window. Even in her hazy, dreamy state, she could still barely make out the sound of a light winter rain tapping on the dirty glass. She could see that it was very early morning, but she decided not to go back to sleep for fear of the dream haunting her again. She sat up and with a snap of her fingers, a small fire appeared in her hand. She immediately lit the candle on the nightstand next to her bed. Her cobalt blue robe hung on a hook next to her nightstand; she quickly grabbed it and wrapped it around herself to warm the chill growing inside her bones. She also donned her boots and sash, but most importantly, she put on her pendant with the fuchsia colored gem.

  While most mages used a staff to control their powers, Crystal chose a special gem that was often built into staves and made it into a pendant. If she were to cast a large spell without wearing the pendant, she would not only lose control of her power, but her body would be drained of energy. The little fire spell she used was simple enough to control for a more advanced mage like herself.

  She gave a quick look in her mirror after getting fully dressed. Her long, light brown hair hung in waves around her pale face, past her shoulders, and down her back. She locked eyes with her reflection, the bright green color glowing against the candle light. She did not care much for her appearance, but making herself look somewhat presentable had been a regular habit since her youth.

  For three years, Crystal had led many people who wanted their precious Cierith to be the way it was before the neighboring kingdom, Daldussa, invaded. For ten years, the power hungry king had occupied the castle and had allowed the soldiers to occupy the cities and order all civilians around. There were those who finally got up the courage to stand and fight, and so they joined Crystal in her quest to take back the once peaceful kingdom of Cierith. They, along with Crystal as their leader, were known as Deliverance, the sworn defenders of the persecuted people of Cierith.

  The rebels took refuge in the Dwarven Mountains in southern Cierith. There was a village in a hidden rocky valley that the rebels used as their hideout. Even though humans were the race that ruled Cierith, the human king had always treated the other races with respect and honor. Naturally, when the king was murdered, the dwarves jumped at the chance to help bring his and his queen’s killer to justice. Therefore, when Deliverance was formed, they built the hideout amid their mountains to shield the rebels from the rest of the world.

  The elves that once lived by the eastern sea border of Cierith also aided the rebels for the same reasons. The Daldussan soldiers had also destroyed the Elven Forest that most of them called home, so when elf refugees found their way to the dwarves, Crystal saw to it that they were protected. Even though dwarves and elves never got along, they still banded together hoping that by tolerating each other they would bring the kingdom back to the way it was before the invasion.

  Suddenly, there was a knock at Crystal’s bedroom door which startled her.

  “Hey boss,” said a familiar voice, “you awake yet?”

  “Just woke up, Taryn,” she replied. The door suddenly opened to reveal a very short, red-haired teenage boy. He wasn’t abnormal in size, however, for Taryn was a halfling. Halflings were beings that were very small, roughly half the height of a human, but they were very fast and nearly impossible to catch off guard. They aged a bit slower than humans as well. Taryn was about twenty-eight years old, but as a halfling, he was the equivalent of a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old human. Halflings, as well as dwarves and elves, were allied with Cierith for many years and, therefore, they chose to join the rebels in bringing down Daldussa.

  Because of their small and often fragile nature, halflings were enslaved by the Daldussans upon the invasion, causing more and more of them to rise up to protect their own kind. Many of the halfling rebels had lost their entire families, and many were still even children. Naturally, when Crystal formed Deliverance, her first act as leader was to form a plan to free the enslaved halflings.

  For the first several months as leader, Crystal successfully led raids on work camps and freed hundreds of halflings by the end of it. With time, the halflings began to regain hope and some even dared to escape the camps. They were indeed small people, but it did not stop them from gaining courage and fighting back. The rebel hideout soon saw hundreds of halfling refugees who wanted to join in their fight. The halflings used their small statures to their advantage and used their speed and quick wits to help bring down their oppressors.

  “Thaddeus said to come find you. He says he has something urgent to talk with everyone about,” Taryn stated. Suddenl
y, Taryn’s sister, Maryn, came running up to Taryn’s side from down the hallway.

  “Taryn! How dare you walk in a lady’s bedroom without knowing if she is decent! You’d better hope Mom doesn’t find out—”

  “Hush, Maryn! Thaddeus told me to wake her up,” replied Taryn.

  “All right you two, knock it off!” Crystal scolded, “What did Thaddeus say this was about, Taryn?”

  “He didn’t,” replied Taryn, “he just said that he needs to talk to you right away.”

  “Gavril was already awake and outside training, so we found him and told him first. Kerali went to find Sigurd to wake him,” added Maryn.

  “I wish I could be there to see that fat, old dwarf’s face when an elf forces him to wake up! You know how stubborn and hot-headed dwarves are, especially with elves. I can’t wait to see his ears turning red at the meeting,” said Taryn.

  Crystal shook her head amusingly.

  “Thank you both for the message. Go and inform Thaddeus that I will be there momentarily,” Crystal ordered.

  “Gotcha, boss,” replied Taryn. He and his sister then darted down the hall and out of sight.

  Taryn and Maryn were fraternal twins who fought alongside Crystal. They were among the slaves that the rebels freed in their first assault. Crystal found the twins herself and then led them out of the camp; they have been close friends of hers ever since and have stuck by her in battle. Both of them were incredibly nimble and sneaky, so they often scouted areas with other halflings and found shortcuts in dangerous areas. Though they were still children, they were invaluable to Crystal in battle, and she had much respect for their bravery.

  Within fifteen minutes, Crystal arrived to the meeting room. It was in the same building as her bedroom, as was all the lead members’ bedrooms. The building was three stories and though it wasn’t much, it was still sturdy and gave the rebels plenty of room. The building overlooked a training yard, which was directly in the middle of the hideout. Surrounding the training grounds were other housing buildings and storage areas. Most of the houses were only large enough to fit one family, but there were so many refugees that often, two or more families had to share a house. No one complained, of course, for it was better than having soldiers breathing down their necks in the outside world.