Over five millennia, the mystical Viskarae civilization struggles for control of its destiny. The blended nation’s three bloodlines are cursed by dark ancestral anomalies which surface from time to time. A cleansing of kinpeople affected by the dark, twisted heritage is carried out by a chosen Mystic of 5. For a long measure of time, the cleansings succeed.
The spiritual and honorable bloodlines of the mystical Viskarae nation escape the Battle of Serenae leaving behind a path of destruction and a chaotic existence for their enemy. They find refuge with an island nation. After five years, they sail to a mysterious land to search for a new home knowing the darkness continues the vengeful search for them.
In Book 2: When the Moon God Weeps, the nation embarks on a perilous, lengthy journey under the Guardian, Naeden. Before the Viskarae reach Homeland, the kinpeople suffer the loss of men, women and children to the heinous, deadly schemes of Sal-nae, The Mephitic One.
Over the millennia of cleansings, the dark being, Sal-nae, gains control over the crimson bloodline and finally becomes too strong to be stopped with a cleansing. Heavily outnumbered, their hope for freedom relies on the mystic skills of their warriors and archers led by the military commander, Dark Elder Larisa, the Angels of War, Lilith, the Sorceress, and the fourth mystic of 5, Kaela.
Prologue – "Sacrifices”
My parents’ visits to the Archives were a predictable routine. Every three months they arrived with toiletries, fresh clothes, and additional copies of archival manuscripts written after the war. Each visit also included a new journal written by my father, Azzori. It contained a record of his exploits during the wartime years and each journal explained his participation in an offensive or defensive battle action. He never boasted but I knew he was proud of his warrior feats. His comment never changed, “Caeth, you need my journals to help you search for the truth.”
Our discussions (arguments) were never tedious. Their spiritual beliefs never wavered nor did my opposing view sway them.
I asked my mother, Kaela, “What’s the difference between immortals like us and eternals like Ebon-nae and Sal-nae?”
She sighed, “The knowledge is within your grasp. The Archives contain the answers to the questions you are asking … continue your research.
“Five years of research have revealed a mystical society with a penchant for destroying itself. What else is there to learn about a populace ‘hell bent’ on suicide?” I replied.
Her lavender eyes pierced my body and soul.It wasn’t the first time I felt the chill of her reprimand. “Walk with me child; you need to understand the purpose of your bloodline.” I resigned myself to a lengthy discourse on our ancestral history.
We left the cave and walked outside into the extraordinary beauty of the Utah mountainscape. Our tension melted away, replaced by the spiritual peace of the vista bathed in moonlight. My mother asked me, “Who are you? Have the chronicles taught you everything you need to learn about yourself?”
My mother had a knack for asking questions I could not answer with complete confidence. I shook my head and turned away from her probing eyes. “I have never honored the House or the Circles of our ancestors. Forgive me.” I added humbly, “I have failed to respect my lineage. There are times I’m overwhelmed by my immortality. I know you and father believe my birthing was a gift from the Eternals but I don’t understand my purpose. Being a member of the Obi House kinpeople is an honorable position, but will I ever fulfill a purpose?”
My mother hugged me, saying, “I have foreseen many life paths for you and the paths all lead to a young mystic woman who will need your guidance if she is to fulfill her oath.”
I was caught off-guard by my mother’s remark; needless to say, her comment piqued my interest. “When will I meet the young woman? What is her name?” I asked. My mother sighed, “You have to understand all the sacrifices endured by the Fives Houses before you meet Raessa.”
My mother closed her eyes and I sensed her foreboding. “She is the last chosen Mystic of 5 and our last hope of defeating Sal-nae. His wickedness endures in the offspring of kinpeople with the genetic anomalies of the crimson bloodline. Her task will be the destruction of the Mephitic One. When Sal-nae and his minions are no more, our purpose will be served.”
I shuddered at the idea of helping Raessa annihilate the
wickedness, which plagues our civilization. I am the immortal daughter of the bravest companions ever revered in the Chronicles but I possess no mystical skills. Confused, I imagined the impossible task before me, “How can I help Raessa fulfill her destiny? Could an Eternal be destroyed? How can I make a difference? What sacrifices would I need to make?” ~ Caeth Salkar
“Death is a fearful thing.” ~ William Shakespeare
Maudae did not fear the hellhound. She dreaded her kinpeople’s reaction to her shift-ling. “If I do not kill the beast, it will kill innocent women and children.” She beseeched the Eternal One, “Ebon-nae, help my people understand my choice.” Maudae’s image blurred. Her clothes shredded as her matrix reshaped into a wolf like creature. She stared into the hellhound’s crimson eyes. The beast flinched at the brilliant glow of her green eyes and retreated a few steps from her magnificent defender, snarling as it backed away.
Amazed, the frightened kinpeople watched the surreal scene unfold. A kinswoman gawked at Maudae’s creature saying, “I have never seen a dethomorph on Serenae as beautiful as this shift-ling.”
Her creature stalked the possessed hellhound. Sal-nae’s enraged shriek whistled through the campsite. Maudae’s silken red-brown fur rippled in the wild wind stream and gleamed in the sunlight.
Her brazen challenge awed the refugees and Safa warriors. An innocent child cried out, “Maudae transformed to defend us from the hellhound’s fury.”
Realizing the danger, the Safa warriors encircled the women and children. They shoved the kinpeople away from the battle site, shouting, “Everyone stand back.” Mothers cradled their whimpering children and turned away from the savage battle, too frightened to watch the outcome.
The last of Sal-nae’s hellhounds faced the defender. It stalked the magnificent creature, studying its movements for weaknesses, curling its lips to expose long razor-sharp fangs. It snarled, uttering hisses and guttural sounds to mesmerize its prey. But Maudae’s glowing green eyes penetrated the fiend’s barren mind. She knew instantly that it fought instinctively. Its only purpose was to kill its prey — or die trying. She reached deep inside her psyche to awaken her feral instincts of survival. She answered the hellhound’s snarls, baring her ivory fangs and growling ferociously. Her creature skillfully maneuvered her enemy away from the campsite to the edge of the forest.
The two adversaries stood face to face, motionless, each one searching for vulnerabilities in the other to gain an advantage. At last, Maudae saw her way to subdue and kill the hellhound. The fur on her back stood straight up as feral instincts stirred through her body and mind. The creature lunged at her and Maudae reacted to its kill tactic …