The Chronicles of Starlyn (Calthoria Chronicles Book 1)

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Glossary

  Back Matter

  Acknowledgments

  The Chronicles of Starlyn

  By Craig A. Price Jr.

  This book is dedicated to my father, whom hasn’t always been a big reader, but has encouraged me more and more over the last few years.

  Copyright © 2016 by Craig A. Price Jr.

  First edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner, except for “fair use” as attributed quotations in reviews of the book.

  All characters in this work are fictional. Any likenesses to persons or situations are entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Treasure Scarbrough

  Prologue

  Thunder outside rattled the foundation of the small cabin sitting in a clearing deep in the forest. The cabin sat only a short distance from the kheshlarn city of Sudegam. The storm lingered above while the rest of the night sky remained clear. Beyond the cabin, stars shone with such intensity, making them seem only just out of reach.

  Inside, a woman stood with long black hair and pointed ears. She stood stiff, silver eyes staring blankly, full of strength and anger. She was not mortal, but an immortal—a kheshlar of Sudegam. Hardly a kheshlar could match her beauty, which said a lot when many considered kheshlars divine. Compared to humans, kheshlars were considered gods and goddesses of the creator.

  “This is for you, mother,” Arria whispered, pouring more fine dark powder into a glowing black steel pot.

  Her voice, shaken and saddened by the thoughts of what she did, but in her eyes, there seemed little choice. The kheshlars rarely used magic anymore, except for a few small spells or enchantments which improved health or endurance. Arria planned something King Elsargast forbid for kheshlars. She hoped her love, the king’s adviser, wouldn’t be too ashamed of her for what she planned to do.

  In her mind, nothing else she could do would help her mother. Kheshlars were supposed to be immortal, yet her mother lay dying. Never before had a kheshlar fallen ill. A kheshlar did not die of natural causes. Kheshlars could only die when mortally wounded in battle as her father had been, or by poison. Arria could not fathom another kheshlar wanting to poison her mother, whom had been one of the kindest kheshlars she knew. Arria and her sister, Starlyn, nursed their mother while she was ill. They kept others away, monitoring her food and drink. Even herbs and healing potions from the kheshlarn healer seemed to be of no use.

  Arria loved Starlyn, but knew she couldn’t confess to her what she planned. Starlyn would do her best to stop Arria. Arria would not be stopped. If any chance existed to save mother, Arria knew it to be through the use of dark magic. Arria felt hesitant at first to try it, but after careful consideration and research through restricted books in the library, she made her choice. She found a binding life potion. It appeared harmless if done properly. The binding life potion could bond a person with another, including immortality. The sickness would be dulled because each would share it. However, if not done properly, it would be deadly. Arria decided to take the risk. Arria’s mother had been the only one left who truly understood her. Arria was willing to risk everything to save her. There was her sister Starlyn, but at times she seemed conflicted about being a part of the kheshlars or going her own path. Starlyn always seemed torn between two worlds, spending most of her time staring at the stars.

  Starlyn had always been a good person with morals, always keeping her head out of conflict and trouble. Arria was the opposite, always striving for personal gain, or doing the immoral. She always put pleasure over standards. Arria got her sister Starlyn in trouble a lot when they were younger. Starlyn would always try to turn away, but Arria would always guilt Starlyn into staying with her.

  Arria stood alone in the center of the cabin as it shook with increased thunder. A swirl of purple emerged from the boiling pot. It lingered in the air a moment before circling around her in a glittering dust. She fingered the pouch at her bosom to retrieve a long strand of black curls. Her mother’s hair was beautiful, the same black hue as her own, but curly rather than straight. She found her mother’s hair much more beautiful than her own—or even her sister’s perfect blonde which complimented the stars. Arria clenched the hair tightly before dropping it into the steaming pot.

  “Astra elkarr mestril vilette ima anetorr kaztra!” Arria shouted the words she memorized from the book, raising her hands above her head, closing her eyes.

  A pounding at the door startled her, breaking her concentration. She glanced behind her when the room shook uncontrollably. Arria gasped in horror as one thick strand of her once perfect black hair turned white, falling onto her face. She watched her eyes transform from warm silver into coal gray in the reflection of the liquid inside of the boiling pot. She attempted to move, but found she couldn’t. Magic held her in place, drawing her toward the hissing pot. Her smooth pale skin darkened.

  The door collapsed under the pounding, thrown aside by three kheshlars entering into the cabin. Each had wide eyes and slack jaws as they gaped from Arria to the rattling pot in front of her. Two male kheshlars with long brown hair accompanied a female with blonde hair so fair it appeared white. The female took a step forward, fighting against the weight of the dark magic which seemed to blow against her, causing her radiant blonde hair to flutter behind her head. Arria recognized the woman as her sister.

  “Arria, please stop, you don’t want to do this.” Fear twisted Starlyn’s face.

  “You don’t understand what I want. With this power I can save mother,” Arria said, a single tear sliding down her face.

  “This is not the way—you will be cast out!”

  “It is the only way. Can’t you see? Or have the rest of the kheshlars blinded you from the truth, with their fears of the ancient magic? If it is truly bad, then why do the books still exist deep in the library?” Arria peered into her sister’s eyes with the hope she used to convince herself.

  “You know I want to save mother as much as you do.” Starlyn yelled. “If you continue, I will be forced to take action.”

  Arria stared hard into her sister’s eyes with regret. She gasped a deep breath, fixating on the large pot swirling with black and violet magic. “I’m sorry, sister, it is too late.”

  Her remaining hair transformed. The once black hair became something of the past, replacing itself with a curtain of white silk. She uttered more strange words under her breath toward the pot, causing it to glow brighter with each word. Her skin transformed into a light charcoal.

  Behind her, Starlyn strung her bow, pointing it at
Arria’s head. Tears streamed along Starlyn’s face like a waterfall as she aimed the arrow. She coughed as more tears fell, blurring her vision. The arrow strayed from its target, penetrating Arria’s upper back instead. A shrieking scream pierced the air, shaking the entire cabin, blowing Starlyn and her two companions from the cabin.

  Arria fell to the ground with all of her bodily changes complete. Her hair completely white as snow, and her skin as gray as a moonstone. The glowing dark magic seemed to linger for a moment before it exploded in every direction, splintering the ceiling and walls of the cabin.

  The dark pot tumbled to the ground where its black and purple liquid spilled, surrounding Arria’s body. Her leather armor burned away until only her naked body, with arrow protruding from her back, lay on the ground. Everything else burned. Her once beautiful wood cabin caught aflame in the moonlight. The storm fell apart, letting no rain fall to tame the blaze.

  Starlyn stood in the distance, watching Arria’s home burn in the night. She gaped at Arria’s untouched naked body, falling to her knees, tears streaming along her face. Gasping for air, she found none. She coughed, resting her head to the ground. Her body shook with terror as she realized she had killed her only sister. She knew her sister gave her little choice, but that didn’t ease her mind. It wouldn’t be long before her mother would die as well, leaving Starlyn alone in the world. One of her companions helped her to her feet, hugging her. Still, her sobs did not diminish, but grew louder until her sobs echoed through the wilderness.

  Starlyn loved her sister, but the law had been clear. King Elsargast decreed death as the punishment for using dark magic. Starlyn had discovered her sister’s intentions and had repeatedly tried to sway Arria from the dark magic, but Starlyn failed. The dark magic seduced her sister, and if Starlyn didn’t stop her, Starlyn feared no one could. If she chose not to take the shot, the king would have banned her from the city. He threatened he would before she left Sudegam.

  Starlyn wiped the tears from her eyes as she strode to the smoldering cabin. Clouds rolled in as a light rain began to fall. A blanket of raindrops hid her tears as she stepped into the remains of the cabin. Arria’s body had vanished. Starlyn’s eyes spread wide as her head jerked from left to right and left again, searching for any sign of her sister.

  “Where is she?” Starlyn whispered into the wind.

  One of her companions stepped into the charred remains of the cabin beside her. He sighed as he inspected the destroyed cabin, pieces of wood scattered about, mostly burnt. The walls were gone, but most of the floor remained intact, though blackened and covered in ash.

  “Black magic,” he muttered.

  Starlyn watched the last small flame as it diminished near where Arria’s body should have lain. The rain and clouds disappeared, revealing the night sky once more. Starlyn gazed at the dimming stars, whispering, “Arria …”

  Chapter One

  Starlyn sat alone in a dark room, secluded from all her outside worries. Her long golden blonde hair fell past her shoulders onto her brown leather armor. She searched through scrolls and books. Normally, isolation would wear on her, but she had been too pre-occupied in thought. She needed alone-time to settle her distracting thoughts.

  Her life was serene a short while ago, before her mother got sick, and before her sister delved into the forbidden art of black magic. Fables told of kheshlars using powerful magic eons ago, when dragons flew the lands. However, after the reigning kheshlars destroyed the savage beasts, magic’s power faded. A few kheshlars were selfish, clinging to what magic they could, including what they shouldn’t. Others found dark magic led to nothing but death and destruction, causing the king, Elsargast, to forbid it.

  Starlyn knew her sister loved their mother, but Arria had gone too far. The last time dark magic had been used in Sudegam—hundreds of kheshlars died from magic and civil war—including their father. The man responsible had gone mad, dark magic consumed his mind. The king had no choice but to order his execution. Starlyn had been five when the massacre happened, but the memory remained vivid as if it were no more than the day before.

  Starlyn shook her head from her deeper memories, instead remembering the night she stuck her sister with an arrow, the night that gave her nightmares. She didn’t tell anybody about it because she had no one to tell. She had few she considered friends, but she didn't know if she could trust them. Most didn’t believe her when she told them she thought her sister remained still alive in the forest. They never got to see her body vanish. Most choose to believe Arria’s body had been consumed in the fire, while Starlyn refused to accept she killed her sister, rationalizing Arria hid elsewhere. Starlyn had nobody to talk to. It had always been her mother and sister who she brought her concerns to. Now with her mother ill, and her sister missing and possibly mad, Starlyn didn’t know where to turn.

  Starlyn knew her sister still lived, not dead but lost. She had no idea where, or even where to search. Nobody believed her, but she could sense it somehow. She prayed to the mother of the forest. Starlyn needed to reach Arria in time before the dark magic consumed her.

  A few kheshlars helped her search, but most believed her crazy. Sometimes Starlyn believed herself alone in the world when she noticed all the other kheshlars avoiding her.

  The king had laughed when she petitioned for his help. She begged for a small force of swordsmen and archers, but she only found volunteers.

  Kheshlars excelled in all weapons after centuries of training. Starlyn practiced wielding a sword or a bow, but after a century, she wanted more of a challenge. She used a war hammer now. The heavy weight appealed to her. She delighted in crushing things under its steel. Arria forged it for her decades ago, well before studying black magic. Starlyn wanted to keep it close to her as the last part of her sister.

  Kheshlars haven’t been to war since the dragons, but they continued training with weapons. Elsargast, the king, declared to keep peace after the war, forbidding kheshlars from leaving their territory. He also mandated everyone master a weapon for defending the city should they ever have need. Starlyn didn’t believe a war would break out over Arria’s use of black magic, but she desired the security of a small armored party when encountering dark magic.

  She shook her head, clearing the negative thoughts before she went returned to the scrolls on her desk. Most were tied with blue or red ribbon, but a few claimed a black ribbon. Black ribbon scrolls were rare, and forbidden to study. Finding black scrolls were hard to come across in the library as they stayed under lock and key, but she needed them, and her sister had taught her a few ways to pick locks when they were younger. Many concerned black magic. The scrolls were dangerous, but Starlyn needed to know about black magic. She had no desire to practice it, but she needed to know how to defend against it.

  Many of the black scrolls were a confusing series of riddles. Black magic needed balance, and most hardly seemed fair. She focused on scrolls concerning life. Many deaths were required to save the life of one. There were several variations of the spells, but none were better than another—only different.

  A scream in the distance shattered her thoughts. Her feather quill dropped from her hand. The ink jar tipped onto the scroll she used for notes. Ink spilled everywhere—ruining several other scrolls. She didn’t bother with the scrolls as she dashed from her study.

  The wooden halls she ran along were bare until entering bedroom chambers. When she opened the door, she saw her mother in a cold sweat under scarlet wool blankets. She rushed to her, prying the covers off to expose her mother’s satin white gown, her entire body covered in sweat. Starlyn wiped her mother’s forehead with a cool damp cloth. She dipped it in the bucket of cold water a few more times, ringing it with her hands before wiping more precipitation from her mother’s brow.

  Her mother’s blank, silver eyes stared up at her without recognition, making Starlyn’s heart sink. She brushed her mother’s black hair from her eyes, securing it behind her ears. Her mother’s hair reminded Starlyn of
Arria. Starlyn had been the odd one in the family with blonde hair, even her father’s hair had been black. Her mother told her because of her hair, they named her after the stars. She had been born on a starry night, her hair matching the stars.

  Starlyn couldn’t understand how her mother became so ill. Kheshlars were immortal—no illness had affected them. Illness had always been a weakness of humans, or so Starlyn had been told. Starlyn had never met a human, but she often wondered at their similarities and differences. Starlyn and Arria monitored their mother’s food and drink soon after she took ill—in case of poison. Though, it seemed inconceivable to them anyone would wish their mother harm.

  Starlyn’s friend, Aliqua, an herbalist, examined her mother, but she had been bewildered by what she saw. At first, the illness showed only weakness and tiredness, but it developed fast within a few months until her mother could only lay in bed. They wondered if she came in contact with anything new, but it had been months since she traveled outside the walls of Sudegam. She claimed she didn’t go far past Sudegam, though Starlyn knew she had been gone for a few months. Her mother left Sudegam once a year for the past decade, but Starlyn never knew where she went. There hadn’t been anything different in her routine.

  Starlyn became desperate to find a cure, but she wondered if one could be found. She worried if there was a weakness for kheshlars then it would only be a matter of time before other races exploited it. Most weren’t concerned since the kheshlars were at peace, but Starlyn knew it couldn’t be real peace. The races weren’t at peace, they were simply oblivious to each other. Kheshlars knew of humans, but never visited any—nor received visits. King Elsargast forbade kheshlars from contacting humans. Most kheshlars thought sickness a weakness. Instead of helping, they wanted her mother gone so the weakness could die with her. Those same kheshlars glowered at Starlyn with distaste, especially since the incident with Arria.