The Wardens of Strar Read online

  The

  Wardens of Strar

  Rachel Grant

  Copyright © 2021 Rachel Grant

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

  First edition published 2021

  Book Design by

  Find The Wardens of Strar on Facebook.

  For a child who always dreamt of writing stories with her wild imagination. May all your dreams come true.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  6000 Years Ago 6

  Chapter 1 11

  Chapter 2 31

  Chapter 3 47

  Chapter 4 63

  Chapter 5 73

  Chapter 6 92

  Chapter 7 114

  Chapter 8 136

  Chapter 9 154

  Chapter 10 174

  Chapter 11 195

  Chapter 12 212

  Chapter 13 234

  Chapter 14 250

  Chapter 15 262

  Chapter 16 278

  Prologue

  6000 Years Ago

  The temple had long been abandoned. The people had retreated two years into the God War, two years which had swiftly turned into six, then ten and was still raging fifteen years later. The war had driven people from their homes. Scattering them far and wide in a desperate bid to find some refuge from the growing terror.

  Sadly, there was no outrunning this war or the deities who brought horror and devastation. Zerx being the cause of it all. He had murdered Lady Xextheys. Stole her Godhood as the Goddess of Death and Darkness and was determined to destroy the world with his newfound powers. He raised the dead to become his army and wherever they marched, they left death and destruction. Zerx's darkness corrupted everything, including the magic in the world.

  The cities that once floated in the sky fell, killing countless of people in a blink of an eye. Magical creatures, rare and beautiful, grew desperate in their struggle to survive, even the Phoenixes were corrupted and torn apart by the darkness, unable to be properly turned into monstrous creatures like the rest. The darkness murdered them instead, driving them closer to extinction.

  A world full of magic, now lost forever.

  Epal was nearly gone too. It had been a large county to the west, full of life and energy, but Zerx had razed it to the ground. There were only a few fortified cities that remained, their walls protecting them from the darkness and the undead; everything else was gone.

  He, himself, had only just escaped Epal in time. If he hadn’t, he would probably have been raised as one of Zerx's undead Mortem. That would have been humiliating as a Guardian of the Gods. He was now hidden within an abandoned temple in Strar, cold, wet, miserable Strar. He was crouched down in front of the dying fire, trying to huddle away from the cold and damp.

  “Damn Zerx,” he cursed.

  He had used up the last of his firewood but knew it wasn't safe to leave the temple. Wirmir, his God, had told him to wait out the war in here. Wirmir was one of the five deities who had created the world. Wirmir was the God of Order, Law and Wisdom and only a fool would ignore his advice.

  Hearing movement outside, he tensed, rising slowly. He gripped his mace tightly as he stood. He held his breath, trying to keep silent. If it were a Mortem, he would need to finish it off quickly and hope its resurrection was slow to follow. He had no fire to burn its corpse anymore. Just a smouldering pile of ash.

  “It's just me,” a familiar voice called out, as a woman approached him.

  Green eyes from the beauty before him met his own and he relaxed. She smiled wearily at him, skin paler than usual, clothes dusty and long, brown hair dirty from her travels.

  “I'm glad you're safe, pretty bird.” He smiled as they embraced one another.

  They fitted comfortably together, and he found himself breathing out a sigh of relief. He kissed his wife softly, happy she had returned. She smiled into the kiss and deepened it. But soon tensed and quickly pulled away.

  He frowned. “What's wrong, what did Wirmir want?”

  “I think you mean Lord Wirmir,” she scolded, her brow furrowing, and he couldn't help but laugh and roll his eyes at the look. She had thrown him it often.

  “Yes, yes, 'Lord' Wirmir. Now tell me what happened?” he said, reaching out gently to take hold of her hand.

  “He made a deal with Zerx,” she said, grimacing. “Lord Wirmir offered up his life in return for the fighting to stop. At least between the Gods. Lord Wirmir said if it continued, it would annihilate the world.”

  “Zerx would never accept such a deal.”

  “Lord Wirmir believes that once he is gone, Zerx will try to get his hands on the book.” Looking distraught, she once again pulled away from him, leaving him cold once more. “So, he entrusted me with the book instead.”

  His heart shuddered. “Please say you didn't accept it.”

  “I did.” She smiled sadly.

  All the relief he had felt turned into fear. His hands trembled and he shook his head in denial. “You know what those artefacts do to people. If you accept the book, I'll lose you!” he cried. “I already lost the rest of my family; I can't lose you too!”

  “That's why I didn't say anything. I knew you would take it badly. I know how much you suffered when your clan died,” she said softly. “The last thing I want to do is cause you any more hurt, but I have no choice.”

  “You are the one person left that means everything to me and now I have to give you up too.” Tears stung the back of his eyes. “Does it make me selfish to want to hold onto the one who holds my heart?”

  He wanted to deny everything. He was desperate to believe it was all a nightmare, that Zerx hadn't betrayed everything the Guardians stood for, but he had and now Zerx was destroying his world. He had been a Guardian like them. One of the best, but now he was just a monster.

  A warm hand gently brushed his cheek. She smiled lovingly at him, her eyes warm and understanding. “You will have me for a while yet, I'll change, but it will be slow. We still have some time together.”

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you too,” she said, pulling an object out of her pocket, a silver key. “Lord Wirmir gave me this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It's a charmed seal. We are going to use it to lock ourselves in time and protect the book.”

  He frowned. “How long will we freeze for?”

  “I don't know,” she admitted.

  “Well, at least we'll be together.” He smiled weakly at her.

  “Zerx will go on a rampage once he realises the artefact is out of his reach. Lord Wirmir himself created the seal. Only time can breach it now,” she said, hands gripping the charm tightly, her eyes full of determination.

  He clasped his hands over hers. “Together.”

  “For as long as we have,” she said. “I'll see you on the other side my love.”

  “Until the mountain clouds part and the stars shine,” he murmured, remembering that whenever his da said farewell to his ma, those were his parting words.

  He had no real idea what they meant, not even after all these years, but his ma would smile happily, and he hoped it now brought some joy to his own wife.

  The key glowed, a shimmering light burst from within and everything grew cold. He couldn't move or think or breathe and slowly he slipped away, his last sight was of her smile, a smile and a pair of green eyes.

  Chapter 1

  It was a bitterly cold summer's morning.

  It was a day to sleep in, but Yasmiel was glowering at her dad. He merely raised a brow, eyes gleaming with mischief as he lifted the bucket in his hands. Like a bolt, she raced out of bed with a shriek of laughter, realising that bucket was probably filled with freezing, cold water.

  “Oh look, now she's up,” Dad laughed.

  May, her ten-year-old sister, dried her face and pouted at them both. Dad had obviously gotten to her first. Yasmiel ruffled her hair, grinning at her outraged shriek.

  “I only just dried that!” May huffed.

  Yasmiel snorted. “And yet, it still looks like a bird's nest.”

  Their dad left them to get dressed with a bellyaching laugh. It didn't take long; it wasn't like either of them owned very much. May's clothes were all Yasmiel's and Yasmiel's previously to their neighbours' daughter Daisy.

  Yasmiel followed her dad into the main part of the house where the kitchen and entrance were squeezed into. Yasmiel shivered, goosebumps crawling across her skin. She was glad the fire was burning, despite it being the middle of summer, it was just that oddly cold that morning. Quietly she made her way to the mirror by the door and braided two strands of dark hair to frame her face, leaving the rest trailing down to her shoulders.

  “So, I'll be hunting and doing the shopping,” Yasmiel said. She slipped on her boots, fastening up the old, frayed laces, before grabbing her cloak.

  “I managed to hide some money away from your Mum, but it's not much,” Dad admitted. He gave her an embarrassed sm
ile, as he handed her a few coppers and even fewer silver coins.

  Yasmiel spotted the empty glass bottles in the bag leaning against the wall and frowned. Obviously, mum had been drinking again, just like every other day. Yasmiel saw her dad staring at the bag too, his brow furrowed before he sighed and closed his eyes.

  “Thanks, Dad.” She smiled, leaning in for a hug, which he returned, squeezing his arms around her.

  Her shoulders sagged and she relaxed in his hold. He was as warm and welcoming as ever. It was with great reluctance she pulled away from the embrace.

  “Do you want me to take that?” Yasmiel offered, nudging the bag with her leg.

  “No. No.” Dad shook his head, hurriedly tugging it away from her as if it was a poisonous snake. “I'll see if anyone wants the glass after work.”

  “If you're sure?” Yasmiel said, turning towards the door.

  “Yasmiel!” Dad called out.

  She turned around only to yelp and scramble to catch the apple flying her way. It bounced off her hands a few times before she secured it, grinning at her accomplishment. It hadn't hit the floor.

  Dad laughed. “At least eat something before you head off.”

  “Thanks.” Yasmiel smiled, taking a bite before forcing herself out the door and into the cold. The freezing air quickly made her fingers grow numb and her breath turn to an icy cloud.

  Yasmiel glanced around; the houses on top of the hill were silent, their owners either still asleep or already working. She headed carefully downhill, watching out for icy patches underfoot. The last thing she needed was to fall and hurt herself. She passed her neighbours' homes on the way and soon ended up at the first stall, the lonely one on their street. Farrel and Dana owned it and were some of the first folk her dad had met when he and her mum moved to Horntale, a few years before Yasmiel was born.

  The village was all she had ever known. It was a good home but a quiet one.

  She wanted to go out and see the world, see all the wonders her dad had described in the wild tales he had told her as a child. Yasmiel used to curl up in his lap, close her eyes and let him take her on one exciting adventure after another.

  “Cold day, huh?” Farrel, the fruit stall owner, stood shivering next to his wife.

  “Just a bit,” Yasmiel replied, blowing some warm air onto her hands as she approached him.

  “It's an ill omen,” Farrel said grimly. Dana, his wife, shook her head.

  “Don't pester the girl with that 'ill omen' rubbish!” Dana spat out before turning toward Yasmiel with a thin smile on her face. “Would you like to buy some fruit from the cart, pet?”

  Yasmiel hated being called 'pet', but she managed to force down the irritation. “No thanks. I don't have any coin for it right now.”

  Dana sneered. “You never have any, girl. You let that lazy, pathetic excuse of a mother go out and drink it all away. I swear if my husband ever did that, he'd have no hands left!”

  Yasmiel forced down the irritation at the reminder. Yes, she knew her mum was an alcoholic. Yes, she knew that her mum spent all her dad's hard-earned money. Yes, her mum was rarely ever home. There was nothing to be done about it, though. There was no point in even trying to anymore. Yasmiel still didn't like to be reminded of it though. It made her want to hit something.

  Farrel grumbled. “When do I ever have time to go out?”

  “What was that?” Dana scowled and raised an eyebrow.

  “Nothing, darling. I love working all day long!” Farrel said, with fake cheer.

  Yasmiel couldn't help but smile, the couple argued every morning, yet they still got on so well with one another. It made her a bit jealous at times. It would have been nice if her parents had that same relationship.

  Dana scoffed, eyes back on Yasmiel. “Time you got on your way, girl. No need to stand around daydreaming; I get enough of that from my own daughter!”

  “Daydreaming?” Yasmiel asked.

  “Daisy has been thinking about trying out as a recruit for the Wardens. A noble calling for sure,” Farrel said.

  “It's a death sentence!” Dana snapped. “They are also highly unreliable; the two that used to pass through here haven't been seen for months. They went and abandoned us! We're lucky the Mortem haven't slain us all.”

  “Now who's pestering the girl with 'ill omens'?” Farrel winked.

  Yasmiel struggled to hold back a laugh, while Dana ranted and raved, her face turning a deeper shade of scarlet with every passing second. Yasmiel retreated, muffling her laughter at the mortified look on Farrel's face as he shooed her away. Heading straight out to the fields, she hoped to get some bread from the farmer's wife, who baked fresh goods every morning and gave any day-old food away to those in need if she had any left. Yasmiel was hoping to get lucky to get some free food.

  As Yasmiel approached the hut, she could see the farmer's wife working beside the oven. The welcoming heat hit her as she entered and she nearly groaned in relief, hoping to thaw herself out by the fire.

  “Yasmiel!” Mary called out, smiling. “I don't have much left from yesterday. Just some rolls.”

  “I'm grateful for anything you have.” Yasmiel bowed her head, eagerly opening her satchel as Mary grabbed six rolls from the side table and tossed them into her bag.

  Mary smiled warmly at her, then reached for one of the freshly baked baguettes sitting on a rack. The heavenly smell made Yasmiel's stomach rumble as Mary handed her the warm baguette.

  “Mary, I can't—” Yasmiel protested.

  “You helped my old husband out with his harvesting. I ain't having you go hungry,” Mary chided. “You could do with some meat on your bones.”

  Yasmiel knew she was thin, but she wasn't that thin. She also knew Mary and Chuck needed money for winter. Yasmiel couldn't accept their fresh stock, not without payment.

  “I have a few silver—" Yasmiel began, reaching into her pocket.

  “Don't you dare rob an old woman of her kindness,” Mary scolded, gently slapping her hand away from her pocket. “You eat that up while it's still warm; it will give you some energy for your hunting. I can't believe you still haven't fixed your dad's old bow; it would make things so much easier for you.”

  “I can hunt with a knife,” Yasmiel said.

  She had managed for a few weeks. It had been difficult, and she was running herself ragged hunting with just a knife, but it helped feed her dad and May.

  Mary shook her head. “It ain't easy, that's for sure, but I guess it can be done. Now on you go. Take those rolls and that baguette and get out of my sight. I've got work to do too!”

  Yasmiel grinned, taking a bite of the warm food. “Thanks, Mary.”

  “Aye, well, just don't tell my husband. He's crabby today with all this cold weather. Strange times. Middle of summer, yet it's still freezing.”

  “Are his bones aching again?”

  Mary grimaced. “His bones always get sore when it's colder. Don't you fret though, I'll take care of him.”

  “You always do.” Yasmiel smiled, nodding to Mary as she left.

  She needed to get to the forest soon before it became too light. The sun was rising, soon everyone would be up and about. The animals would all be scared away from the forest once that happened. Yasmiel munched on half of the baguette before putting the rest away, wanting to save it for May. She could have it with some stew if Yasmiel could get enough meat to make a good one.

  'Stop. Turn back.'

  Yasmiel gritted her teeth. The voice was back. A man's voice, a voice only she could hear. She was determined to ignore it because only crazy people listened to random voices in their heads, and she couldn't afford to be a crazy person.

  Who would feed her family if she were?

  Yasmiel pressed on, ignoring the insistent warning voice inside her head, but she was stopped once again by the sight of a familiar figure lingering at the edge of the forest. She bit her lip and marched on, trying to ignore him.

  “Going on a hunt?”

  “It's none of your business, Malroy.”

  “Look, why waste your time and energy? Your family are a waste of space.” Malroy scowled, crossing his arms. “I offered you marriage and a chance to get away from your drunkard of a mother and your fool of a father, yet you refused me.”