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Dark Tide Rising (Book 1 of The Bright Eyes Trilogy)

J. M. Rojas


DARK TIDE RISING

  BOOK 1 OF “THE BRIGHTEYES TRILOGY”

  By Juan Rojas

  Copyright 2015

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Grey Family

  Chapter 2: Uninvited Guests

  Chapter 3: Messages From The Beyond

  Chapter 4: A Mysterious Meeting

  Chapter 5: The Past Unveiled

  Chapter 6: Goodbyes

  Chapter 7: Through The Gate

  Chapter 8: Silversong

  Chapter 9: The Flight Across The Sea

  Chapter 10: Lore-Kin

  Chapter 11: War Council

  Chapter 12: An Ancient Ally

  Chapter 13: The Library

  Chapter 14: A Prisoner

  Chapter 15: Training

  Chapter 16: A Feast For Kings

  Chapter 17: Race Against the Storm

  Chapter 18: The Calvary Arrives

  Chapter 19: Revenant

  Chapter 20: The Change

  Chapter 21: A Father's Promise

  Chapter 22: Plans

  Chapter 23: One Last Sunrise

  Chapter 24: Southlake Battle

  Chapter 25: The House of Thomas

  Chapter 26: Sworn Oath

  Chapter 27: Sun Garden

  Chapter 28: A Plot Unravels

  Chapter 29: Traitor's Gambit

  Chapter 30: A City At War

  Chapter 31: Metamorphosis

  Chapter 32: Rising Hope

  Chapter 33: A Long Earned Holiday

  A Little Bookshop (Chapter 1 of Book 2: The Makerʼs Hand)

  OTHER BOOKS IN THE TRILOGY

  Book 2: The Makerʼs Hand

  Book 3: The Crown of Dreams

  PREFACE

  “Dark Tide Rising” blossomed from my obsession with mythical—and often pseudo-historical (my character Arthur Mandrakis is the embodiment of this element)—civilisations. Atlantis, Lemuria, Rama and Osiria were just a few names that came up during my research; and it was reading about their supposed wars and use of ancient technologies that I began conceptualising the Three Empires. During the creative process, the instrumentals “Untitled” by VAST and “View of a Burning City” by Appleseed Cast set the mood and theme for the novel.

  I want to thank my mother Evelyn Green. A beautiful woman who has been my backbone through everything I do. Without your love, support and guidance, I would be a lesser man.

  PROLOGUE

  “And from the long line of Athesphar descended great emperors and empresses of Lemuria, the Axis of Kingdoms, who were both wise and strong by the tutelage of the Mir and by their own account. All paid homage to this great house, even their enemies in Osiria to the west and Rama to the east; for in those days no wrath was feared more than that of the High Seat of Atlantis and the armies of the Four Orders who upheld her laws. Gaianar, Orgonar, Auralar and Kratoth.”

  ––A passage in the “Book of Scrolls: Lemurian History” by Aztalan Irus'Daetarim, the Emperor's Scribe.

  “Hark! Hark O sons and daughters of Atlantis! The king has fallen! Weep for him and for his family. Weep, for the sea of darkness has gathered, and a great light has gone out!”

  —Unnamed seer, heralding the death of King Amnaeus Athesphar of Atlantis on the streets of Kallius.

  “I saw it! From the fields of Athiqa! Carrion and black smoke rising from the White Isle! And across the Silver Song were tall masts flying the red and gold flags of Rama! Atlantis has fallen!”

  —Avalonian peasant to another.

  Before Lemuria was united by the Atlantean kings, before the Age of Wisdom and the Azlazarani had made the Crown of Dreams, there was a great war that covered the face of the world, and all nations fell under its shadow.

  It was fought bitterly between the empires of Osiria and Rama, whose memory are now forgotten, but whose great expanses, then, crossed mountain ranges and oceans, absorbing most of the lands of earth under their thrall. During this time, there were also cities in the sky, for both empires wanted to spread their territories to the stars, which lay forever out of their reach, beyond the dome of heaven; and the Mir—who are not of the race of mankind—seeing this as part of their prophecy called the Change, took the last of their ancient knowledge back into the depth of the far oceans, to their hidden kingdoms.

  Through the countless lives of men and women, across a thousand years, the war that raged was seemingly without end. Its toll was great; yet the armies of the Sun-King and his enemy, the Ajnaram-Rana, never relented. They devoured nation after nation, like locus; pushing deep into the heartlands of the First Continent, with their mighty war machines that blackened the skies.

  In the wake of the Osirian-Ramaean War, disease and famine also ran rife in the thralldoms, where the conflict hit hardest. A festering decay called the Pale Blight, which took lives far from the contested battlefields, in the cities and towns; driving people into the wildernesses of the north as refugees. Trade and prosperity halted in this chaotic time; and civil unrest saw rebellions sparked by lawless men and martyrs, who usurped land from the lords they had once served. And it was said, by some who were still faithful to the peace of the Age of Awakening, that the Mir, who had taught mankind in his infancy, had abandoned them because of their deeds; and that the primordial gods, the Daeva, had set in motion the End of All Things. That there would be no peace until the Earth was swallowed into the oblivion that would surely come.

  In the minds of both emperors, however, there was hope against the turmoil and despair; for between the mighty girths of Osiria and Rama lay the last free nations that had not yet fallen to either of their armies. They were called the Ten Kingdoms, and the Isle of Atlantis was the strongest and wisest of these lands. A shining light in a sea of darkness.

  They were green, wooded lands that buffered the borders of both empires, and through them ran beautiful, sparkling rivers like trails of diamonds from out of the mist shrouded mountain ranges of Nysa, ending in great lakes upon the grass fields of Hy-Bresail, where the best cattle and crops in all the world could be found. Endless blue skies stretched above beaches as clear as glass along the shores of Avalon and around the Isle of Atlantis. And the air of these lands were refreshing and sweet to breathe—the scent of the transparent blue ashur flower heavy on the winds like a seductive dream.

  Osiria looked at all of this with envy and hatred, for her lakes were almost dry and her people starving. So it was that they plotted war openly, expanding their fortifications along the shores of Avalon and flying their war-ships closer to the free cities each day, sending no emissaries of their purpose. Rama, however, were more open to negotiation and trade and sort friendship with the Ten Kingdoms, finding that it was better to have allies in times of strife than a new enemy. It was disease that infested their teaming jungles, and this forced the people of Rama to live mostly in the sky-cities that shadowed their heartland in the mountains of Araj'Thayamal, abandoning most of their ancient fortresses that their forefathers had built.

  Atlantis had made loose alliances in those days, always favouring Avalon and Hy-Bresail who they shared kinship with through long bloodlines. Yet, when Osiria moved its might against the White Isle, the other kingdoms—through bitter oaths—merged as one and fought back the invaders with a fury unknown to the Osirians. Strengthened by reinforcements from Rama, the united lands who now called themselves Lemuria, defeated Osiria and took back some of their territories that had fallen to the Sun-King in times past. Lands such as Argadnel and Hyperborea in the uttermost north, which were ruled by Osirian princes.

  A Council of Kings was formed on the day of victory, an
d the High Seat of Atlantis became the thrown of the first Lemurian emperor: Thae'il Amraethar who was the oldest son of the last king of Atlantis and who renamed his House to Athesphar to build a new line. The royal families of the Ten Kingdoms all submitted their first-borns to the new bloodline, and Hy-Bresail gave Princess Aeleah Khaa'telion as Thae'il's wife. From this House would descend rulers who shared blood with every Lemurian nation and who would lead with loyalty to all but allegiance to none.

  The Third Law, the emperors of Rama called Lemuria, or the Axis of Kingdoms, and for a long time they were friends, prospering from each other in wealth and knowledge. Atlantis allowed trade along the Silver Song river, which ran deep into Rama to the east, and the secrets of the Aether—the earth's life-force—was eventually shared in return by Ramaean seers. The power to speak over great distances with the mind, and to channel power out of the earth for tools and weapons saw the Ten Kingdoms expand their cities to a splendour and glory they had only dreamt of. This time was called the Age of Wisdom and it saw formation of the Sorrarani, a mixed people of Lemurian and Ramaean blood who lived in the high mountains on the borderlands and were great philosophers, inventors and peace-makers.

  The Sorrarani leaders—the Aer—were men and women who were wise beyond years and who engineered the Shadow Weirs: pillars that could channel and amplify the power of the Aether as well as transport people in great numbers from one place to another. These they gave to the Athesphar emperors willingly. The Sorrarani also perfected sky-ships, using the Aether engines instead of Osirian aural technology, and worked tirelessly on the Tower of the Clouds, which they planned would one day reach the stars; but was later abandoned due to insufficient building materials and the constant Osirian attacks that crippled its foundations.

  At the height of their influence, the Sorrarani sent many of their young men and women to serve the Lemurian and Ramaean emperors as a symbol of peace. They were physically and mentally strong and carried weapons called glaives, which could change shape to the abstract projections of its wielder's thoughts. These weapons were soon carried by all Atlantean soldiers, whom the Sorrarani trained vigorously. From their ranks came the Four Orders of the Trident and the Crown: Gaianar, Orgonar, Auralar, and Kratoth who praised the Sorrarani as highly as they did their own emperor.

  The Sorrarani also built their own cities in the mountains, and they began to delve deeper into the earth, seeking the mysteries of Gaia, and the Aether, its spirit. After the city of Suruun was built on the highest peak of the Araj'Thayamal mountains, by permission of the Ramaean emperors, the Sorrarani had finally discovered the secret of khi'naya, which means “astral travel” in their tongue. A man could separate his khi or spirit from his body and travel through the Aether, where his mind was connected to all living things. It was a dangerous sleep that was also called the “deep sleep” and many Sorrarani monks could inhabit the Aether for days on end without food or normal sleep, later returning to their bodies where they were ravenously hungry and exhausted. Some who were much weaker, lost their way in the Aether and their bodies died of starvation. But all who came back were much wiser in the lores of the world and all living things, knowing the intricacies of the Aether. Soon a great order of them formed and called themselves the Azlazarani, and they built in the forges of Suruun the Crown of Dreams, much to the mistrust of the Aer.

  The Crown of Dreams was a marvel to behold. The circlet was three entwined bands of silver and gold, representing the three empires, with a clear white stone in the centre. The stone looked as if stars of spiralling galaxies moved below its surface, confined within its prism. The Azlazarani told the Aer, their leaders, that its power was immense: allowing its wearer to be one with the Aether, to be able to feel as the earth does through all its living things and to be able to control all its elements, from the tallest mountains to the deepest oceans. All the winds of the world would move in accord to the wearer's whim. All volcanoes and hidden fires below the ground would rise and consume anything the wearer commanded. It was a symbol of power to keep the balance between the three empires. It was to be honoured by all emperors, but worn only by the Aer'Ashan: the leader of the council. They refused at first, and said in fear that the circlet should be unmade for it could one day destroy the entire world; but the Azlazarani convinced their leaders that under their custodian it would be safe. In the walls of Suruun it would never leave. So the Aer'Ashan agreed to be its warder; yet his fear was still strong and he refused to wear it, instead keeping it locked above the headrest of his throne, where it would be bowed to by a long line of emperors throughout the ages. Where it would stir the desires and cloaked aspiration for power of all who looked upon it. Even by the Sorrarani themselves.

  “There is no desire left for us to live in this realm of the flesh,” was the last words the head of the Azlazarani spoke some two hundred years after the Crown of Dreams was made, and he and his people used the last of their secret wisdom to transcend into the Aether, leaving behind their bodies. Their spirits then dwelt forever in the unseen world, where they did, from time to time, occasionally return to inhabit trees, animals and people again, to communicate with the world at the need of their own machinations. Although they were not gods, they were worshiped by some as such, and their shrines were upheld in all lands, even after the Fall.

  For six hundred years the Sorrarani helped maintain the peace. However, through the passing of time, oaths were eroded, and new rulers ascended with new visions and ambitions. The cordial and gradually distant relationship between Lemuria and Rama soon turned to distrust, and after a few petty confrontations, finally open conflict. Under a scornful tyrant-emperor Ka'ash Arakesh, old wounds were opened, and Rama moved against Lemuria, claiming its leaders were using the Sorrarani—for their friendship was strong with Atlantis—and the fear of the Crown of Dreams to manipulate their people. The Silver Song was attacked and many of the coastal cities around the Isle of Atlantis were ransacked and destroyed. In retaliation, the Sorrarani in Rama attempted to slay the mad emperor at the behest of the Aer, but were completely wiped out before they could act. Only those who served under the Lemurian emperor remained. So, with the help of the Sorrarani and a gloating Osirian emperor who sided with Lemuria for revenge against Rama, the Third Law declared war against its old friend. The eastern empire was almost crushed; its jungles set on fire by the warmongering Osirians who went beyond the reins of their Lemurian allies. It was a terrible war that saw many families divided and forced to fight each other. The cities of the Sorrarani were all destroyed but Suruun and some coastal towns closer to Hy-Bresail. The Crown of Dreams remained safe however, above the head of the Aer'Ashan.

  The war ended when emperor Ka'ash was slain by his own son, Ka'ash II, who loved Lemuria and saw the dangerous repercussions of his father's madness. Through letters to one of the Atlantean princesses he had also won favour with the High Seat, confessing his love and desire for unity between both empires. His family was spared after the war and he was sworn to marry Izsulaen.

  Fifteen years of peace passed when suddenly a secret force of Ramaean assassins called the Night's Hand infiltrated Suruun and attempted to steal the Crown of Dreams. The Sorrarani, some Gaianar emissaries who were visiting the Aer, and Ka'ash II, with an entourage of soldiers, repelled the attack; and the assassins were executed. Under secret command of the Aer—even from Ka'ash II himself—the Gaianar took the Crown of Dreams back to Atlantis, leaving behind a fake circlet above the Aer'Ashan throne. In Lemuria, Emperor Amnaeus Athesphar hid the Crown in the Chamber of Sleep, where no thought could penetrate. He was a close friend of the Aer'Ashan, and they both feared that soon the Crown would fall into the hands of their hidden enemy. This fear was born of a prophecy called the Change, which saw the end of the world, and its rebirth; and it had been delivered to them by a Mir messenger who had come from the Sea of Light, beyond the domain of men.

  The young emperor ordered his armies to search out any more of the insurgents who claimed to be loyal t
o his dead father and sent word to Atlantis that he wished to wed Izsulaen on the Night of the Falling Flame. This night, as it was every century, saw a great celestial body streak across the night sky, far above the ceiling of stars, its bright light challenging that of the moon itself. It was called the Falling Flame. But to the Sorrarani it was called a darker name: the Destroyer.

  “A sign of our mighty union!” Ka'ash II said in his last letter to Atlantis. “Finally, two empires merging as one. Osiria will weep in fear at our new bloodline.”

  Amnaeus did not like this thought, but said, “In title only, it will see our children's children as heirs to the Twin Empires. But we will keep our sovereignty, for my people will never bow to the east, as your people will not forsake your government to the middle kingdoms, to a foreign crown.”

  The young Ramaean emperor agreed to the terms of “in title only”, but in his heart he had already made his plans for war. For the Night's Hand were his men in truth, and the attack at Suruun was by his command. He had wanted the Crown of Dreams as far back as he could remember; when he was a little boy, accompanying his father on his homage to the Aer throne. A bitter homage that was false. Now his trick at winning the heart of Izsulaen was complete and he would claim the Crown as well, for he knew that it had been taken there, he knew Amnaeus harboured it in secret to all but the Gaianar. Ka'ash II had won one of their number over, had bought their trust, and they had told him everything.

  On the Night of the Falling Flame, the Ramaean emperor came to Atlantis to marry Izsulaen in the tradition of the Sea Kings—a name given to Atlanteans by his people. On the eve of their union of both Houses, he uncloaked his hidden army in the streets of the city and attacked, catching his host off guard. In the high tower he battled with Amnaeus and slew all his children with the help of his Gaianar betrayer. Under the blindness of night, thousands of Atlantean soldiers swelled the streets of the city; their glaives locked against the marika spears of the Rama empire who had stepped off many merchant vessel ships, disguised as refugees. Fires burned from every tower and the sky was a-light with the battle of countless sky-ships. Atlantis, the Jewel of Lemuria, almost fell.

  It was in the blaze of dawn when Amnaeus took his fight with Ka'ash II to the Chamber of Sleep and revealed the Crown of Dreams. In desperation, and against warnings of the Gaianar general Aramathaeus, the emperor donned the Crown and used its power to lift up the seas around the city of Atlantis. He threw them down upon his enemies and crushed them, washing their broken bodies into the sea. His winds smashed the sky-ships and he opened a crack beneath the ocean, spewing lava and fire at the war vessels and armies that were amassing on the coastlines. The destruction he wrought was great, and many people died, including those who were close to him.

  In his madness and despair at the fires that ate his city and the waters that drank his people, Amnaeus fell to the ground, where he was slain by Ka'ash II with his own discarded trident. Then the last emperor of Rama took the Crown and rose above the tower into the sky in a aura of bright light. His lust for power quickly enslaved Ka'ash II to the Crown, and its visions ensnared him. A lucid dream showed him a not to distant future where he would be the King of the World and nothing would stand in his way. All would tremble in fear and adoration at the utterance of his name, and his commands would be absolute. They would sing him praises unto the end of time.

  Coming out of that dream, like passing through smoke into the clear air, the last threads of his sanity broke like Amnaeus' had. The power that Ka'ash II now wielded went further than the roots of the mountains and further than the waves crashing beyond the distant horizon. All the thoughts of all the men and women below Ka'ash II were little memories of his own, and nothing was hidden from his gaze. The wind itself was his to mould and shape, and he used it to stay suspended above the sea in a swirling column that pierced the clouds. Used it to sweep up broken shards of the city and hurl them like mighty spears at the Atlanteans and their allies.

  When his rampage slowed, Ka'ash II saw his people dying in great numbers. Heard their cries for deliverance echoing off of the white stones of the falling towers and bridges. Felt their last breaths expire under the weight of the black waves and crushing stones. Yet in his madness wrought by the Crown he remained blind to truth of their deaths and blamed Lemuria and Osiria, not his own unravelling rage.

  Then it seemed that the Azlazarani were in the wind he commanded, screaming insults and mockery at his piousness, calling for the fall of Rama.

  “You will never be King of the World,” they jeered. “Your fate is that of your father's!”

  Guilt filled his heart for that brief moment, and then in one last act of desperation, Ka'ash II drew upon the Aether and its invisible web that connects all life and memory on this earth, finally tearing his spirit from his body. Reaching beyond the dome of heaven, he grabbed the Falling Flame with his will empowered, and pulled it into the heart of the world to destroy his enemies...