In a land full of magic and monsters, a battle of good versus evil rages incessantly. As death and despair spreads throughout the land, a goodly monk takes a vow to serve his god. Unfortunately, life is not turning out the way Sedarus Perim planned. Sedar
The Pale One
The Ascension, Volume IBy A. M. D'AddabboiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 A. M. D'Addabbo
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-0487-4Chapter One
As the sun filtered downward, the sky shone bright pink. Sunsets never ceased to amaze Sedarus Perim. The monk stood on top of a knoll overlooking a valley, but his ice-blue eyes were not on the small town, unlike his four companions'. The monk's wisdom-filled eyes were mesmerized at the beautiful colors sprayed throughout the fading light.
Sedarus gazed, imprinting the beautiful image into his mind. He stood there, on top of the grassy hill, for many minutes in silence. The wind blew, and his mud-stained, sky-blue robes flapped mildly. Finally he felt a soft touch on his arm, and he turned to one of his companions.
"We are ready. Are you?" Haet Estin asked.
Haet stood six feet tall, three inches taller than Sedarus. His soft, brown hair was cut short enough for his scalp to be visible. His nose was slightly crooked, having been broken once before, but his brown eyes were warm. They gave great comfort to Sedarus.
"Yes, brother, I am," Sedarus quietly spoke.
Haet was not Sedarus's brother, not biologically speaking, but they were both monks who were raised from childhood in the Order of Valor, an order that worshipped the god of valor and courage, Tinen. The two met their three other companions through Tinen, also. Although Aunddara, Rhamor, and Rishkiin were not monks, they all lived in the Temple of Valor and worshiped the god as well. Each of them were brought to the temple at a young age and had worked together nearly every day since. That was how they became close friends.
"Sedarus, Haet! You're slowing us down!" Rishkiin yelled from the bottom of the knoll.
Sedarus moved his eyes from his fellow monk to the young fighter who had spoken. Rishkiin was the youngest of the group, a score and two years old, just six years younger than Rhamor, the oldest. Rishkiin was the most brash and impatient. He stood barely taller than Haet, but in his full-plate armor, with its intricate designs of ancient runes blessed by the Goodly God Tinen, he looked much taller. He wasn't weighed down, either, as the marks made the heavy armor unnaturally light.
With his thumb and forefinger, Rishkiin nervously traced his mustache, following it down to his goatee. His thick, dark-brown hair shined in the fading sunlight.
"Be silent, Rish," Aunddara said quietly.
"Aun, I'm hungry, and there is bound to be an inn in that bloody town. I mean, by the Abyss!" Rishkiin's voice was exasperated. He impatiently fumbled for the reins of his horse.
"No one holds you back, Rish," Rhamor said, his baritone voice rumbling deeply. The bear of a man stood in his full plate armor, similarly blessed like Rishkiin's. Rhamor mounted his war steed with ease as Sedarus walked down the hill.
"I can't go ahead by myself ..." Rishkiin trailed off.
"Why? Is it because you're frightened of those scary rogues hanging about?" Aunddara laughed.
Rhamor's deep laughter joined in as Rishkiin's face flushed deep scarlet, his goatee quivering in ire. The young fighter hurriedly placed his helmet on his head, covering most of his face.
Sedarus shook his head, ignoring the joke at the cost of his friend's ego. "Let us be gone," Sedarus said, breaking up the laughter.
Rishkiin silently mounted his horse, as did Aunddara mount hers. Sedarus and Haet had no horses, but they could move their sandal-covered feet fast enough.
The journey continued, filled with silence. Often, Sedarus's gaze returned to the diminishing sunlight to the west. He wished he could have had more time watching the fiery orb descend, but he did not complain out loud. He was grateful for his friends, even the hotheaded Rishkiin. Sedarus could not help but feel gratitude that they were near him ... that they would even speak to him. He had no control over it, and so he could not be certain if he would be able to stop it if he should lose control.
No! Do not think of that, Sedarus said silently to himself. Forcefully he switched his gaze and thoughts back to the departing sun.
"Sedarus," Haet said quietly beside him so that only Sedarus could hear, "are you okay?" Concern was plastered on the monk's face.
"No." Sedarus could not lie to Haet. It was against the code of honor by which the monks lived. Even had he lived by no such code, Sedarus would not be able to lie to Haet, who was the closest thing to a brother he'd ever had.
Haet swallowed deeply, unintentionally. "Is it still—"
"Yes," Sedarus cut across the monk, "I can still feel it. The sun eases it, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
Of course he knows! Sedarus thought, but he felt better when he confided in someone.
"All the more reason for us to hasten," Haet said, smiling.
Sedarus smiled back, which satisfied Haet. Yet it was not a smile of comfort, but one of knowing. Sure Haet loved and cared for Sedarus like a brother, but like Rishkiin, he was also ready for the comforts of the inn ahead.
Sedarus watched as his fellow companions quickened their pace, each wanting the reprieve of the inn. He had no choice but to keep up.
At the edge of the village, the five companions were met with a feeble guard patrol. Three men in unison shouted, "Halt!" They held up spears threateningly but did not advance.
Slowly the companions stopped.
"What business do you have here?" asked a grizzled old man. He's seen too many winters, Rishkiin thought as he studied the guard. He was obviously the leader of the trio, although he seemed about to collapse with exhaustion. All three of the guards had on poorly made leather armor with leather caps. Besides their spears, they had short swords for their weapons, but this was hardly a group that would rattle the five companions.
"We have come to stay at your lovely inn," Rhamor said, removing his helmet to reveal long, curly, black hair and a full, black beard. Rhamor's demeanor seemed friendly enough, but his hazel eyes were stern and authoritative.
"Lovely?" the grizzled old man asked between coughs. Then he muttered, "You obviously haven't seen it yet."
"Still, we wish to rest there," Rhamor said, his voice deep and soft, though bringing out in him an aura of command.
"As you wish, but we require that all men and women leave their weapons with us."
Rishkiin spurred his horse forward in a rush, heading straight for the old man. He stopped his steed right before it flattened the grizzled guard. Before he or his two companions could react, Rishkiin's long sword was resting at the man's exposed throat.
"The only way you will ever get my blade is through your throat!" Rishkiin growled through gritted teeth, his neatly combed goatee bristling. Then his whole demeanor changed as he shrugged and said with a lighter, calmer voice, "Of course, if you would like, I would only be too happy to oblige. But I would strongly suggest against that, as it would leave these two witless wonders without a leader. Their lovely little hearts would be broken and shattered." The young fighter feigned tears as he finished. With that Rishkiin started his horse on by the guards at a calm trot, ignoring the threatening glares from the two younger guards.
"Fine, go with your weapons! But your woman stays with me!" The grizzled old man grinned. "Come on, girl. I'll keep you entertained all night."
Rhamor, Rishkiin, Haet, and Sedarus's eyes all...
