Second Born Read online

  Second Born

  By

  Lance Wilson

  AuthorHouse™

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.authorhouse.com

  Phone: 1-800-839-8640

  © 2011 by Lance Wilson. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  First published by AuthorHouse 11/04/2011

  ISBN: 978-1-4685-0097-4 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-4685-0096-7 (ebk)

  Printed in the United States of America

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  Contents

  Introduction

  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

  Special thanks to

  Mom, you always taught me that every story is worth telling

  Larry (dad) watching your own persistence taught me that nothing

  worth while is easily obtained.

  And to Ian, for the help of the evolution of this world and character.

  Introduction

  For those that have known me know that this book has been in progress for almost 10 years or longer. I’m not sure why it took so long to get everything right. I think this might be the 5th maybe 6th version of this story. I guess that the problems with the others were that they grew too epic too fast, that is why I took the ideas and simplified them. Focused only on the immediate family to the main character Attonnan, those who know the character know him as Fang, but I’ll get to that. Now of course this is a fantasy-based story so there are the usual fantasy creatures, elves, dwarves, trolls and so on. This book however focuses on the elves and there problems. I used different aspects of our own history to create theirs.

  The Denerith elves that I saw more like your Europeans. Their attitudes range varies much between that of your Romans to Celt to even English. I kept the idea of the Celts that they live still mostly in clans and still vary much war by clans, but the way they war I took more from the English in the dark ages,

  The Vandalis elves are mentioned briefly in this book as well, there are your cold northern elves, and I took their aspects from the great tribes of Vikings and clans of ancient Solstheim. Though they seem savage and barbaric it is only lack of knowledge of there lifestyle that makes them that way. I may extend my works with these elves in a different book I cannot say yet, I did have great ideas for this particular branch of elves I just didn’t find a place for it in this story.

  The Kainith elves are the ones I see fitting between a mix of roman and Middle Eastern. The appearance and attitude is vary much middle eastern for the main villain, Mecmed, but at the same time he has the roman ideas of using modern technology when it comes around (as described in Byrdi’s chapter) but a more roman like idea of how to conquer the world. Also many of the idea’s I received on how to sway someone to your own side I got from the books written about the relationships between Mecmed and Radu, this was the Mecmed that took the Romanian lands and cast out Vlad Dracula, Radu being his younger brother that ultimately was turned against his own family. I used these tactics and the seductive almost sick nature of the original Mecmed in two of my characters, my own Mecmed and Fuma Hojo.

  Last there is the Salatar elves, these are not really talked about until Byrdi’s chapter, I liked the idea of the east, China, Japan, Mongolia, and so on, being so dark and mysterious in the European past. I used this in my own story and used much of Japans own history to write Byrdi’s chapter, the chunk I used of course is where Japan was just starting to open itself up to more modern ideas. You meet three branches of the Salatar elves in that chapter, The basic Salatar elves, Now every elf is Salatar, so basically calling them the Salatar was saying that they are not of a certain clan or cast. The Vulkoori, these are the knights of Samurai, and the Umbragain, the opposition of the Vulkoori, the Ninja (yes I know ninja never really existed)

  It is interesting to read this story now in it’s final form, remembering back how Attonnan, a.k.a Fang, really started. With four guys in a room playing some D&D. I think I created him as a thief that used a short sword and whip. I do intend on brining in some of that game in maybe a later story with Attonnan. His story is far from over. Anyway the idea that really got me started on this world was some older notes I had found and sparked interest in this story. Not to mention I had just erased the previous version of this story being unhappy with it. The notes involved the idea that all creatures were actually created by eight dragons. These dragons tried to live in peace with their clans of creatures, but then like always war broke out. Many of the weaker clans, these being clans that represented non-war like aspects of life, were conquered and destroyed early, in the end it broke down to two dragon clans, The Dagoth and the Haku. Neither is good or evil in the core of the clan. They are just two different sides to war, or in my eyes, a warrior. The Dagoth being the rage and lust for battle, much like your berserkers or battle ragers, The Haku represent the grace and skill of battle, your more eastern view of battle. Of course the Dagoth attracted more evil warriors in nature, but the clan itself was not evil. I have many ideas for these ideas as well but I’m not sure they will go anywhere. Either way all clans finally vanish but in my notes I bring up the idea of what if a Dagoth and a Haku survived and were unleashed upon a more modern society.

  Either way this is my introduction of the story and how it all came to be, I hope reading this will help you understand where it all came from and what it is all about. Really it makes no difference to me if you understand it, as long as you enjoy it. If not, well I’m sorry but what can you do.

  Chapter 1

  Attonnan

  A scream rips out through the night. Feff walks out on the balcony, another scream stops him dead in his tracks. He knows that inside his wife is giving birth to their first child. His hands grip the edge of the balcony. The best healer he could find is with her now, he shouldn’t be nervous. Another scream then silence. He looks down, waiting for the sound he knows should come next. Finally it comes. The sound of a healthy child crying, then, suddenly another scream, his eyes flash open. He spins on his heals to the door only blocked off by a curtain. He wants to run in there he wants to run in and go to his wife. Why is she screaming, the child is out. Before he can even think any more on it there is another scream. He runs to the curtain but before he can go through an older woman walks out. Seeing her bring fear to him. He remembers her but what is she doing here. The woman is a dwarf; she is dressed in a red cloak with the hood pulled up.

  “What are you doing, why are you here witch?” he growls at her and backs away from the curtain.

  She smiles as another scream pierces the night.

  “What did y
ou do to her? I swear if you have hurt her then nothing can save you from my wrath.” He growls at her his hands now drifting to the sword at his side.

  “I did only what you asked me for. You asked for a son, a son strong enough to outshine any of the ancestors you have had.” She said smiling as she looks toward the room

  “You do not belong here.” He growls again but only turns back to the bright clear night.

  She is a dwarven priestess and he knows that it is beyond his skill.

  “You and I had a deal, you wanted a son stronger then any other, and I was kind enough to make that happen. Now I am here to collect my payment.” She says calmly and waits.

  Calmly he listens, the night is silent again… . no, the priestess wouldn’t. His knuckles turn white as he digs his nails into the heel of his hand. How dare she, she had no right to his wife, his beloved. Finally the night is broken with another cry, the cry of a child, another healthy child.

  “She is not yours witch, and none of those in that room are yours.” He says growling at him.

  “We made a deal, the child is mine.” She growls at him her eyes grow cold and fierce.

  “Nothing in this castle belongs to you. Now go back to your hole dwarf.” He growls grabbing her by the front of her cloak and stares deep into his eyes.

  “Now you listen here you pathetic elf prince, you and I had a deal, and in turn I got you what you wanted. The child is mine now by right, and you will not stand in the way of what must happen. Now get your hands off of me or I will show you what the ancestors can do.” She growled her eyes growing even shaper.

  Feff only growls at first his grip on her cloak only tightens, but then he stops and lets her go. She has lived in the caves deep in the mountains surrounding his kingdom long before anyone can remember. It was told to him that his grandfather came to her to learn how to overthrow the current prince, and in doing so freed all the slaves and putting himself on the thrown. Since then all of the men in his family had gone to her to find out what their destiny held for them. When he went to her in his rite of passage she told him that he would die alone. He would have a queen and many that would love him, as there prince, but the line would end with him.

  “Go back to your hole witch.” He says and walks into the room

  His beloved wife is lying in the bed, her skin is pale, and she has lost blood. As he gazes at her he remembers the dolls that he used to see in the markets. Their skin the color of fresh cream, her hair is black as raven’s feathers, her eyes are closed but she is still breathing.

  “She is asleep, sir we must talk.” A woman says dressed in pure white dress and cloak. There is blood on the dress and she is wiping her hands with a now red cloth

  “Is she alright, will she make it?” He asks his eyes full of fear, what did that witch do to her.

  “There were complications and some unexpected surprises, but yes she will live. I must warn you she is weak. The winter chill could take her. We must take care to keep her safe.” The woman says and looks over at his beloved.

  Feff only waves his hand as he walks over to her. She is sound asleep and does not feel him as his hand gently brushes against her cheek pushing some of her hair gently aside.

  “Your sons what are their names?” The woman says as another healer walks in carrying two tiny elven newborns in, one tucked in each arm.

  He walks over and she gently takes the son from the right.

  “This one, he shall be Mellyruna Savgtlin.” He says calmly and lets the little one gently grips his nose, he only chuckles and closes his eyes enjoying his son.

  “And the other?” She asks and smiles at him the little one out for her.

  “Attonnan” He says and watches as Mellyruna yawns and begins to fall deep into a sleep.

  It is a bright and early on a late winters day, the sky is clear and crisp and the mourning is cold. Feff once again is walking back and forth on the balcony just outside his own bedroom. A woman slowly walks out of the room; she is wiping her hands clean

  “How is she, can she recover?” Feff ask keeping his eyes focused on the skyline

  “She will not make it through the night.” The woman says and lowers her head.

  “Let the children say goodbye.” He says and making sure not to look at her.

  “Sir, are you sure that is wise, something like this could traumatize them?” She asks calmly her thoughts only on the children and there welfare

  “She is there mother, it is only right.” He says and glares at the mountains in the distance.

  She only nods and walks back into the room, then out the door into the hall where she nods to another woman in white. It takes only a few seconds for a guard to walk into the room with a young Mellyruna and Attonnan, both can’t be any older then five. They walk in already knowing that their mother is sick and keep their heads low. Both walk to the edge of the bed. Seeing his queen the guard only lowers his head. She is laying in the bed, her black hair matted with sweat, her eyes that were once so bright now growing dull and sunken in. her skin almost as white as the sheets around her.

  “Little ones why are you so sad?” She says, her voice only a whisper now.

  “They say your going away.” Mellyruna says now looking up at his mom

  “Well, yes that’s true.” She says calmly but smiles

  “Mom, don’t say that, you promised me you would take me to winters festival” Attonnan says and tears streaming down his eyes

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have much choice in this” The mother says gently stroking her sons hair, his hair is like hers, as black as raven feathers

  “But you promised.” Attonnan says his whole body trembling

  “You’ll just have to forgive me little Attonnan.” She says and gently strokes both her sons faces

  “Come on you two, your mother needs her rest” The guard says and gently ushers them out of the room.

  Both of them go without any fuss and the guard slowly shuts the door after they leave.

  “Vulge, I want you to make a promise to me.” She says and smiles as the guard walks over and kneels at her bed

  “Anything my queen.” He says calmly but she can see that his eyes are tearing up.

  “Vulge, I know my husband, he does not say it but he blames Attonnan for my death. He is convinced that since he was born and that I was not to have twins that it was his birth that weakened me” She says then closes her eyes, her breath now coming with some strain.

  “Your husband loves both his children.” He says but she raises her hand to stop him from going on

  “I never said my husband did not love him, only that he blames him. Just look over him. Keep him safe.” She says and begins to breath deeply

  “Do not fret my queen, I shall watch over him as if he were my own. Sleep now.” He says and tears begin to stream down his eyes

  The queen only closes her eyes with a nod and rolls on her side to rest, and like that, she is gone from this world leaving behind her all her worries in his hands. Vulge only lays his head on the side of the bed and sobs. She was such a sweet and graceful woman, for the world to take her so soon in this life was unfair.

  Attonnan snaps awake from his dream and sits up immediately. This is not the first time he has had these dreams. The second one he knows is not so much a dream, it was a memory from when he was young. He remembers saying goodbye to his mother and begging her not to leave him, that she had to accompany him to the winter festival. His mother had been sick since he was born. Most of the time she never showed it but she was always the first to catch a cold or fever. The healers were always working on her trying to keep her one more year. That year, well, they figured she had just had enough and let go. He remembers being outside the door when Vulge talked to her alone. He learned that his father blamed him for his mother’s death and since then, so h
as he. But the first, the dream of his birth and the payment to the dwarven priestess, she said the child was hers, but which one and was it a memory, dream or perhaps vision. He is not left alone with his thoughts for vary long however, it is only a few minutes after he wakes when the door swings open and a little girl runs in and jumps on his bed. She wraps her arms around Attonnan and lays her head on his chest but then backs up and glares at him

  “Attonnan, your all sweaty.” She says almost as if she is scorning him.

  “I can’t help it” He says and shrugs his shoulders pulling her close

  The two hold each other and Attonnan takes a deep whiff of her hair, she must have just gotten out of the bath. She smells like her name Maeraer Shyrys ‘sweetest blossom’. He only holds his half-sister as she snuggles into his chest and lets the dreams fade away as they do each time he has them.

  “Dad says you have to get up, you have to train with Mellyruna” she says and gets off the bed as Attonnan ruffles her hair.

  “Oh joy, another day where my brother kicks me around and laughs… . one day I’ll best him and pay him back for all this.” He says with a growl.

  He hates training with his brother. Oh they are close and love each other, Mellyruna has always been there for him and they have for a long time been inseparable, but the fact is that Mellyruna seemed to get the best parts of all the family.

  “You best Mellyruna, I would like to see that.” Maeraer says chuckling and dashes out the door before he can snatch her up.

  “Someday.” He says and gets up to get dressed.

  He puts his cloths on and quickly runs a comb through his hair and then walks over to a mirror to have a good look at himself; He is thin and gaunt looking. His face thin and hollow, his long black hair and black clothing only makes his complexion that much more pale in comparison. The only thing that seems to remind people that he is alive and not a ghost is his eyes. He has his father’s eyes. A bright royal blue color with a fire in them. He straps his sword to his side and with a sigh walks down the hall. It is no real wonder why his father, and almost everyone else in the kingdom, favors his bother. Mellyruna is fair skinned, a bit tanned from all his work outside, well built with a firm and sturdy frame. His face is always bright and always wears a smile. His hair is light brown like their fathers and cut short. He walks though the halls and down to the room where he knows his father and brother will be waiting. He walks though the door and smiles at the room. It is the training room that his father had made the day they where born. It is white stone and above the door is the family crest. Weapons of all kinds line the walls and he walks in and sees that Mellyruna is talking to his father about something. He can’t remember the last time he talked to his father in private; he father doesn’t love him like he does the others. He has always been a failure in his father’s eyes.