Chamber of the Dragon's Soul: Awakenings

Chamber of the Dragon's Soul: Awakenings

by Thomas Everill
Chamber of the Dragon's Soul: Awakenings

Chamber of the Dragon's Soul: Awakenings

by Thomas Everill

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Overview

What if everything you ever knew was a lie? Your whole life conjured by another? Would you know the truth if you saw it? Could you believe the impossible? Embrace a world just beyond your dreams A place of mystery & wonder….. John and Tom were lost in a world Tom felt was never their own. Their peaceful secluded lives would become chaos in a flash of memories long buried in the mind of a child on the verge of an awakening. Across the void, Lynkara must reach out to her brothers and bring them to an unimaginable homecoming on the eve of annihilation by the darkest powers her world has ever known. Together with a band of new found friends they must search out and acquire the twelve SWORDS OF POWER bestowed to the ruling families of all the countries on their world by the Creator himself. A few brave souls will join the quest to save themselves and their world from the coming darkness. However, Lord Camas of Jahanna refuses to give up his power and forges an unlikely alliance with Prince Reven of Amador. For a deadly price he will unleash his monstrous hordes upon the rest of the world. Together they will rage an unending war that will encompass the face of Astridia in chaos and bloodshed for years to come. With the uneasy alliance in place Lord Camas calls on the Dark magic’s of old and the Ancient dragon TOPHET, whose very name means Death. He was conjured by the black warlock Kemmal in the bowels of Hell itself to conquer the entire world.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781449081997
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 01/27/2011
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 264
File size: 1 MB

Read an Excerpt

Chamber of the Dragon's Soul

Awakenings
By Thomas Everill

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Thomas Everill
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4490-8197-3


Chapter One

Awakenings

"Haven't you ever wanted to get away?" Tom asked his brother John. They were on one of their recurring hikes through The Giant Redwood Forest of Northern California.

They lived in a cabin nearby, with their mother, Camilla; she was their sole relative. She was an only child, whose parents had long since died.

Their father had also been an only child and had died in a fatal car crash when they were four and one.

Having no aunts, uncles, cousins or grandparents, the family bond between them and their mother was adamant.

Most of their year was spent in the forest with Camilla, secluded from the outside world. Their only contact with civilization came in the form of attending a small school, or the almost unheard of trip into town, fifty miles away.

The forest about their cabin had been their playground since they were little; consequently, they were experienced in forest survival and familiar with all its plants and animals.

Over the years they had reveled in innumerable adventures – both fantasy and reality – purposely traipsing their way through the ancient giants, constituting the forest about them. They never had an agenda – as boys rarely do – they were always just two red blooded American boys out for some fresh air and undetermined adventure. Never having an agenda, until today.....

Tom was leading John through the forest today, in search of something specific. Tom had not said as much, but John knew – with a brother's intuition – Tom had an articulated plan in his head. Tom had been anxious to get out of the cabin ever since waking this morning. As they dressed for breakfast, Tom assaulted John with an endless barrage of one sided conversation, scarcely allowing John a word in response. He chattered on and on about something he called a pooka and how it had given him yet another dream in the night. Tom was a daydreamer. He spent most of his life dreaming of other worlds where he was a warrior of some sort. In the past, Tom would share his dreams now and then, and like any older brother, John would pretend to listen. But lately, Tom was adamant in sharing his dreams to the point of being downright vexing. As John pulled on his boots – trying very hard to ignore his brother – Tom took a seat beside him, never missing a beat to his tale. John wished for the days when his brother's dreams were fewer and further between.

Breakfast was a meal John relished after a sound night's sleep, however, Tom's uninvited prattle at the breakfast table annoyed him and he could not enjoy himself. Tom gulped his entire meal down in no less than five huge mouthfuls, and then impatiently stared at John, willing him to hurry up. John wished their mother would have caught Tom stuffing his face, and then scolded him for his bad manners. He was well aware that Tom's impatient staring was meant to rush him, but he wasn't going to give in. He ate even slower. Tom watched him taking tauntingly small bites, then chewing with deliberate indolent motions and his blood quickly boiled.

When his patience ran out he slammed a fist on the table, shouting "For the love of God! Quit playing with that egg and eat it already!"

"Thomas!" scolded his mother, "watch your mouth, mister, and leave John alone! Let him eat his food in peace!"

"Yes, momma," said Tom.

When their mother returned to the sink and continued with the dishes, John gave his little brother a grin and stuck his tongue out at him. Now, already a few miles into their hike, John allowed himself to be led while he pondered the possible reasons behind Tom's agitated state. Maybe he's fed up with our secluded way of life, he thought. No human contact, other than a brother and mother could cause the cheese to slip off of anyone's cracker. Setting a fast pace up ahead, Tom would only slow down long enough to venture a look back at John. Tom wanted to be sure John was keeping up and listening. John was keeping up, but he hadn't been listening. When he set aside his own contemplations, he heard Tom jabbering on about trees being gateways to other worlds and he rolled his eyes and sighed.

"The pooka have shown me where to find one," said Tom, with a hint of pride. But John was no longer listening to his brother's lunacy. He had returned to contemplating how to restore sensibility to Tom's mind. The right words were vital in effecting that change. John was considered level-headed, practical and rational; Tom was none of the above. Tom felt alien to this world and its people. Comfort and the feeling of truly fitting in only happened in his dreams. In the real world, Camilla was usually reprimanding him with a refrain he knew all too well.

"Why can't you be more like your brother, John?"

"Because I'm not John," he would say, "I am Tom. That makes me different."

The sun was spilling through the high canopy overhead, knifing its warm rays to the forest floor. Birds sang and called to one another, the insects buzzed, chirped and clicked. A deer eyed them with suspicion as they passed its choice of concealment. John thought it was an absolutely gorgeous day and would be perfect if only Tom would shut up long enough that he might enjoy it. The longer Tom babbled on, the closer to screaming "Will you shut the hell up, already?!" John came, but he tried to resist the impulse for now.

"I said," shouted Tom, having noticed John not paying attention, "haven't you ever thought about getting away? If I had the chance, I'd leave this wretched rock in a heartbeat and never look back."

"Dear boy," said John, "you left this world years ago, and you rarely visit us now!"

"Very funny," said Tom, "joke all you like, but I'm being serious."

"I know," John frowned, "that's what concerns me. You're not contemplating suicide or anything like that, are you?"

"No," said Tom, "don't be stupid. You know I like life way too much to do that."

"Well, you've been acting like a flake for some time now and I had to ask," said John. "Granted, that's nothing new for you, but lately you've been in overdrive, bro! So what exactly is eating you?"

"I want OUT!" Tom shouted, startling John. "This place is killing me!"

Thinking he knew where this was leading, John sympathetically asked, "What's killing you bro?"

"We don't belong here; can't you sense that, John? We live alone in the middle of a forest, no friends, no relatives.... doesn't this all just feel wrong to you? We're out of place in this world; we belong to another world."

Yep, that boy done lost his ever-lovin' mind! John thought.

While Tom was talking they arrived at the top of a steep, downhill slope. The further down this steep decline the eye followed, the darker it grew. It appeared to be a small valley with high hills on each side, and they now stood at the top of the South wall. The dense forest and high walls prevented light from infiltrating to the valley floor. Hence, it was bathed in shadow. The slope descended at a sixty degree angle and looked to be six hundred feet to the valley floor.

"I think I understand why you feel the way you do," John said, as the two stared down in to the valley. "But things aren't as bad as you imagine."

Though Tom was touched at his brother's attempt at empathy, his attention was detoured by a glimmer of light in his peripheral vision. Turning from John, he fixed his eyes on a Redwood in the valley below. Its trunk burned an orange-red color and was growing brighter by the second. To his left, John droned on about making the best of the here and now, but Tom heard it as if it were being said through water. His attention was captivated by the phenomenon below.

"That's it," he whispered, "that's the gate!"

Overtaken by his revelation, he bolted down the slope, like a man possessed, rapidly closing the gap between him and his discovery. Finding himself imparting sanity and sage to none but the surrounding trees, bugs, birds and breeze, John shouted, "HEY! Where in the hell are you off to so damn fast?!" Running like a maniac escaped from an asylum, Tom was pointing and yelling:

"The gate!"

"The what?!" yelled John.

"The tree!" Tom shouted back, pointing emphatically. John had one of those brief flashes of thought that occurred in the midst of an emergency. Like when you're in the midst of a plane crash and think, "this plane has a nice carpet!" Knowing the danger Tom put himself in by running headlong down such a steep decline, he found himself thinking.

"Damn, I ain't ever seen anyone who could run down a sixty degree slope like that!" Before John ventured a look in the direction of Tom's pointing, he was seized with dismay, for Tom tripped on an exposed tree root and took on the likeness of a propeller come loose from its airplane. Down the slope he cart wheeled, mowing down every sapling, blade of grass and anthill in his path. Notwithstanding glancing off the trunk of more than one Redwood, breaking numerous low hanging branches and instilling fear into the tiny hearts of every forest creature in earshot. When finally he rolled to a dazed standstill on the valley floor, John did not exhale until Tom sat up, appearing relatively unharmed.

"It's a wonder you didn't break your damn neck!" he yelled down.

"I'm fine," Tom assured,

"Sure," John said to himself, "he's fine. I bet my left testicle that more than one psychologist would beg to differ."

Before John could tell him to wait right there until he climbed down, Tom sprang to his feet, shook off his double vision and sprinted, a little off-balance toward the tree. The tree not only glowed brightly now, but a blinding brilliance emanated from its hollow trunk. Just four steps from the trunk, Tom halted in his tracks. Out of the shadows to the left of the tree materialized the biggest man he'd ever seen. He was ten feet tall if he was an inch. Eight hundred pounds of hard, bulging muscle covered in dark skin, the color of raw sienna, made up his body. His face was large and square, almost piggish. Black orbs devoid of iris, pupil or anything resembling human eyes peered out from under a low brow. His nose was broad enhancing the piggish countenance. Under it were thin lips attached to a hard-set jaw. He wore a perpetual scowl. Straight black hair flowed down his back, nearly to his waist, and he was clad in nothing but a loin cloth. A wide black sword belt which fastened at its front via a large silver buckle surrounded his waist. From its left side hung a colossal broad sword in a black leather scabbard. In his hands he wielded a massive double headed axe with a silver head and a black haft. Black bracers with silver studs covered his forearms. Lumbering toward Tom, he swung the axe at his head with the strength of a team of oxen. His intent was to separate his head from his shoulders, but Tom ducked at the last possible second, and the blade swished by in a silver blur. It sank two feet deep into a nearby tree. Tom distinctly felt the blade clip a few of his hairs as it narrowly missed him. Enraged by the miss of his target, the giant roared in anger as he worked the axe free. Taking advantage of the giant's preoccupation with the axe, Tom quickly rolled away from him, sprung to his feet, and taking three running steps, leaped into the gate. After a considerable amount of effort, the giant freed the axe and immediately followed Tom into the tree. The whole thing happened so quickly that by the time John's brain accepted the reality of what was happening, it was nearly over. He noticed the glowing Redwood for the first time when Tom began to run toward it. Before this mindboggling information scarcely registered, the giant stepped out of the shadows and tried to take Tom's head off, transforming John's reaction from amazement to fear.

Meanwhile, John had already run three quarters of the way down the slope without realizing it. But his efforts to rescue Tom were of no avail. As he took his last steps to reach the valley floor, he heard a loud crackling sound, like two loose wires initiating contact. He looked toward the tree just in time to see the emanating light flash brightly, and then vanish all together.

"Tom!" he shouted, but there was no answer. Confused and numb, he stood staring at the tree in disbelief and an inexplicable loneliness seized him and his eyes began to tear up. "Tom?" he said in an almost inaudible voice, "Tom...."

* * *

Lord Camas impatiently awaited the verdict of his sorceress, Shaitan. She toiled over a mirror she had laid upon the floor and encircled in blood and strange markings.

As her penetrating green eyes searched the mirror's surface, it began to offer up a distorted image.

Crouching to a squat position, she rested her buttocks upon her calves, and placed a hand to the floor for balance. With her free hand, she pulled her long, curly raven black hair out of her face and tossed it over her shoulder.

Her breathtaking beauty belied her age. She looked to be twenty five. She was curvaceous, well endowed and fair skinned.

To accentuate her body, she wore a one piece suit similar to a leotard. She enjoyed her beauty and used it both as an advantage and a weapon. Her true age was two hundred thirty.

"Speak, woman!" bellowed Lord Camas. "Has he killed the boy or not?"

"It is hard to see, my lord," said Shaitan. "The gate to the corridor between worlds has been activated; this I sense. But I cannot sense or see the boy.

"He seeks the gate. That I know. Kronus awaits his arrival under the cover of shadow nearby, and will kill him before he can enter. Beyond this, I cannot see, my lord."

"Then of what use is your magic to me?" growled Lord Camas. "You cannot so much as discern the movements of a mortal child!"

"Do not be so easily angered, my lord," said Shaitan. You must understand that the corridor's magic is powerful, and cancels out weaker magic. Therefore it is difficult to maintain a spell that must pass through it."

"And what is that to me?" asked Lord Camas. "You profess to be powerful under inadequacies ..." Lord Camas muttered. "If your spell would have held, I would not now be bothered with the whelp's awareness," he said with a scowl.

"Kronus is your competent servant, my lord," she assured. "A boy will present no trouble to him. I am confident that the boy is dead as we speak."

"I do not share your confidence," he said. "What of Queen Camilla and the older boy?"

"You've nothing to fear from them," she said. "The spell holds with them. They've no memory of this world or their true identity. The Queen believes she's a widowed Earth woman, and the boy believes he's always been there.

"They humor the younger boy as a daydreamer when he speaks of this world."

"Are you certain?!" pressed Lord Camas.

"Yes, my lord."

"And how can you profess such certainties," he asked.

"The magic is clear in this," she said.

"If you are wrong, I will have your head," he said. "You predicted that the queen and two boys would one day be my downfall. Then you assured me that your powers would banish them from this world forever.

"Here we stand, some fourteen years later, and you tell me one boy has become aware ... I should have killed them when I had the chance."

"My lord forgets that killing them would have meant the possibility of their bodies being discovered by the pooka and their magic," she said.

"King Cyrus would have declared war and overtaken Jahannah with his superior armies. Our heads would have been separated from our shoulders.

"Banishing them and spreading the story of their unfortunate death in the landslide I caused left King Cyrus unsuspecting of foul play.

"In his unrelenting grief, he neglects his Kingly duties. His army dwindles, while yours grows. His kingdom weakens, as yours gains strength.

"My foresight," she reminded, "has brought it to pass. You are now greater than King Cyrus, and will soon conquer Stranadon."

"Be that as it may," said Lord Camas, "your magic did not hold with the younger boy; what's to assure me it'll hold with the queen and the older boy?

"Your failure does not instill confidence in me, Shaitan. And now you think me such a fool as to invest a continuous blind-trust in you?

"Send Tophet to the forest about the gate to the corridor. Tell him to search for an oddly dressed youth, and then kill him."

"But my lord," pleaded Shaitan, "there's no need to summon the dragon. He will not slip past Kronus."

"How dare you contradict my orders!" raged Lord Camas. "Do my bidding without question, or find yourself Tophet's next meal.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Chamber of the Dragon's Soul by Thomas Everill Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Everill. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

1. Awakenings....................1
2. Day of the Dragon....................19
3. The Necromodie....................33
4. The Bounty Hunter....................45
5. The Saurian Whip....................61
6. Abduction....................77
7. Reunion....................93
8. Touch of the Morra....................115
9. Deadly Alliances....................137
10. An Invisible Surprise....................155
11. Love's Stratagems....................177
12. Lake Zoe....................201
13. Isthmus of warrior women....................225
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