I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
One could cross the Great Acid Lake,
If he keeps heading straight south
never veers, or stops to listen to Ticus’ songs
A month’s travel it shall be, depending on your skill
and you’ll observe the mist covering the waters
Where the Eplas land ends, where famed Elauthin once stood,
Now gone, melted into the rock, or sunk in the Fizzing Depths
For the enduring adventurer can overcome anything,
If he but defeats his fear, the vapors will open up
And there in the waters, just beyond Elauthin’s ruins
Nureria and its ghosts…
Shall appear.
Beyond Elauthin
Epilogue
Ebenezer Framtond
Circa 78 NC
Lord Storm Nattas
A Queen’s offer
Perhaps it was the soft rustling of his bedroom’s long curtains that roused him out of his heavy slumber. The morning Cartagen sun that rushed in chasing away the darkness, another strong candidate for being the culprit. He’d preferred the light whiff of rosewater with a hint of frankincense being the reason, but it was probably a blend of all the above.
At least it wasn’t Abrakas hairy arse, Nattas thought opening his eyes. He stared at his painted ceiling, a couple of spots darker were moisture had eaten away at the large drawing. A Kraken coming out of the sea. He’d need to repaint the whole thing at some point. Put something else in its place, less risqué considering the current fucking climate…
A shadow blocked the light coming in and he tensed up, his head rising to see who was in the room with him. He expected the worst, having already decided he was bound to go out like that, slain naked in his bed under a painting of the Old Gods, with his cock equaling in hardness the loathsome killer’s blade.
Well that, or I would end up dead, poisoned by my own fuckin’ hand and covered in vile Abrakas shit!
The killer was standing in front of the window, back half turned and looking outside, curly hair almost blond and reaching her shoulders. The thin Lorian summer dress she wore, showing him the curves on her body engulfed in a golden radiance.
Ah, his poetic brain was in full swing again, he thought getting up, minding not to make too much noise. Not an easy thing considering his leg barely worked, when he got out of bed. Nattas needed time for his muscles to wake up and he decided not to rush it, silently taking in the distracted woman. Maja was dressed pretty light for the season, but everyone did in the south and Storm had nothing against it.
“Lord Nattas!” Maja gasped noticing him standing behind her in all his naked glory. At full fuckin’ mast. Storm kept his eyes on her unperturbed, as the blush reached the roots of her hair.
“Miss Maja,” He replied, one eye on her freckled face, the other on her swaying nipples, clearly visible under the flimsy material. “Do you enjoy the view?”
“Gods. No… ahm, yes!” She answered, her head snapping forward, as if she suddenly found the view of the King’s Baths in the distance enthralling. Maja cleared her throat. “I like this side of the house better,” She added, sounding embarrassed.
Probably at the lame excuse.
“I do as well,” Storm said with a smile, looking around for his tunic. Not finding it, he decided to pick a fresh one from his closet. It was made of light blue cloth with satin details, much more appropriate that what she was wearing. An odd choice of clothing for a morning visit to his bedroom, and he was a careful man around women he hadn’t paid for their services.
But not paranoid.
Not completely paranoid.
“I should change,” Maja said quickly, her profile exquisite to gawk at. To think I had once thought her freckles unsavory, of all fuckin’ things, Storm shook his head disappointed with his younger and foolish self.
Wish I could darling, he thought.
“Don’t do it on my account,” Storm said instead, with a slightly creepy smirk.
Creepier than he’d preferred.
“Ahm, a… court’s officer came,” Maja muttered uncomfortable, while opting to stay under the sun’s revealing light. Nattas wasn’t fooled, but he was forced to pay attention… “It’s for you,” …to the small scroll with the King’s seal, she’d pushed into his hand.
He licked his lips slowly, and stared at the inoffensive piece of parchment as one would a sleeping rattlesnake.
King Alistair was in Alden, last time he’d checked.
“The King is not here,” He murmured aloud, trying to think through all the implications of a sudden summon to the palace grounds, so early in the day.
Maja shrugged her cute shoulders, the sight of her dancing breasts less alluring now for whatever reason. It was as if that small scroll had sucked the life out of him. Storm glanced down his tunic, where his shriveled cock was and sighed.
“There’s breakfast in the kitchen,” The woman said and there was something in her eyes Storm couldn’t figure out. He’d preferred it to be some kind of lust of sorts, or even disappointment, but knew deep inside that it wasn’t.
Lord Nattas had an eye for talent and brains.
Maja had more of the latter, than she let on.
“Is there no one else here?” Storm asked, keeping his voice casual.
She pushed a wayward blond curl behind her right ear before answering. “Mr. Sudi and young Sirio are having breakfast. In the kitchen.”
“He’s not that young,” Storm replied sourly. “And no one bothered to bring me this? They sent you instead?”
“I volunteered, my Lord. It kind of… seemed important to rouse you,” Maja’s voice trailed, unsure on the right answer.
Right.
“You know I noticed, you haven’t asked about your fiancée lately,” Storm said casually and watched her flinch as she’d seen a ghost. She did manage to turn it around though, calm herself down and answer him like a well drilled diplomat.
The woman was learning faster than a fresh Legion cadet.
Now that is fucking impressive. Storm felt his cock spring to life with renewed enthusiasm.
And extremely arousing.
“Something happened?” The woman probed, not as convincing this time, or as eager. As if she had realized, he was on to her.
Still rotting in a hole last time I checked, Nattas thought, annoyed with the question, despite forcing it out of her. His mood had soured again.
“I have no news,” Storm said with a cold smirk. “In my line work, it’s probably for the best.”
By the time he’d reached the kitchen at the back of the villa, his stomach was a mess. Nattas stormed inside, bile in his throat and caught Sudi drinking from his good wine. The shifty lackey, gulped down the rest of his cup and got up abruptly. Sirio sitting next to him, staring slightly amused.
“I was ready to go out,” Sudi said.
“Stay,” Nattas ordered with a grimace of pain, too hurt to make a scene. He collapsed on an uncomfortable seat, he ought to break apart and throw in the fireplace first thing.
But for the fact, it wasn’t made for him and the expense of ordering a new one.
“I should probably go as well,” Sirio said slowly getting up, several books in his hands. “Plenty of research to do on the matter we’ve talked about.”
“I’d like an update,” Storm told him through clenched teeth. Sudi poured him a generous cup of wine. It would probably mess him up even more to drink it, but he just couldn’t resist.
“Can it wait?” The historian asked.
“No.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Sudi opened his mouth to say something probably extremely annoying, so Storm cut him before he managed a single sound.
“You can get the fuck out.”
“Bad night?” Sirio inquired, with a small smile.
Storm sighed again, and stared at the small scroll in his hands; broke the seal with another sigh and read the calligraphic script for a quiet moment. His stomach growled while he did, so he reached for the first piece of food near him and put it in his mouth. Cold lamb from yesterday. A little spicy and less soft than he’d remembered it. He washed it down with some wine and swallowed, bile, meat and wine going all down.
“That bad?” The young historian probed, all curious.
“Queen Miranda, would like to grace her with my presence during lunch,” He explained.
“Eating with the Queen, sounds harmless enough,” Sirio started, before noticing his face and adding. “Or not.”
“She doesn’t like me,” Storm said simply.
“How do you know?”
“Her predecessor was my friend,” Lord Nattas explained.
“Women are strange,” Sirio droned, as if he knew what he was talking about. Storm had never seen him look at a woman twice.
“Queens are worse,” He replied, pushing the thoughts aside. “And twice as deadly.”
Sirio selected a book from his pile and opened it at a hitherto inserted bookmark a little melodramatically. Lord Nattas narrowed his eyes at his shenanigans.
“A new book?” He probed after a long moment.
“Well, it’s actually rather old,” Sirio answered, without raising his eyes from the page. “But pretty well known I suppose.”
Storm snorted getting a glimpse of the title at the leather-bound book’s spine.
“Beyond Elauthin,” He said shaking his head. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s the original,” The young historian explained.
“The man was a charlatan. I figured that one out, when I was a kid,” He stared at him disappointed. “Most of us have.”
“An explorer and famous adventurer,” Sirio insisted, his skin flushing. Did he have a crush on him? Storm wondered. “For the most part,” The young historian added, seeing his stare.
“Is that so? What about the other?”
“Probably a charlatan,” Sirio relented with a small smile.
Abrakas help us.
We’ve run out of sources, even the absurd ones and turned ourselves to a charlatan’s tales?
“Does he write anything about this country, or city?” Storm asked.
The country of Dan, was his meaning.
“No. But he mentions… there’s a passage, he’s standing at the edge near some ancient ruins, or others, were the Fizzing Depths separate Wetull lands from the Reefs, waiting for the mist to clear.” Sirio read the paragraph and then turned the book to let Storm have a look at it. There was a drawing on the page of a dagger of sorts, rather crude, but clear enough and it had letters written underneath it, if one could read the foreign script that is.
Lord Nattas puffed hard, the burning in his stomach immense.
“He’s seen people—”
“Ghosts,” Sirio interrupted him. “The Ghosts of Nureria, he calls them. Scared him enough to abandon his mission.”
“Right,” Storm smacked his lips frustrated. He put a finger on the page and traced the ancient looking script slowly. “Excuse me, if I don’t trust his words. It’s the same man that traveled to the North in an attempt to cross the mountains and got eaten by Direwolves more like. Only Asturians believe this crap.”
“No one knows what happened to Ebenezer Framtond, my Lord. But the man traveled his whole life. Both continents,” Sirio replied, then pushed Storm’s hand aside slowly, traced the strange letters of the drawing himself. “He found this only, partially written on a platinum pillar, inside a ruined temple,” He sighed, as if recalling it from memory. “As for the golden city of Elauthin… it was gone, nothing in its place but ruins and sunken earth. His words and I believe him. This is proof though that it was there.”
“Hmm. Well I don’t,” Storm said and stared out of the kitchen window. He needed to get going. “What does it say? I assume you can read it… whatever that language is.”
“Imperial Wetull script, is extremely difficult to decipher as no one speaks it,” Sirio explained, well in his element now. “But this was easy and Ebenezer was well-versed in their tongue. It simply reads, ruler dawns between rivers, and right under it, offer to Elauthin.”
“It doesn’t make any sense, and I’m being rather lenient, my friend,” Storm warned him, not liking this teasing. “Give me your opinion.”
“It’s not mine,” Sirio said defensively. “You either pick a translation, or you don’t.”
There was more than one.
Great.
“What’s the difference?”
“Not much changes, other than it is just a name,” Sirio glanced at the page. “Dawn between rivers, reads also Baltoris in their language. A female name. So it’s, Queen Baltoris, offer to Elauthin.”
A damned dagger and ghost people.
“That’s her name?”
He guessed it could’ve been much worse.
Like Abrakas arsehole, or Nesande’s cunt.
“Yep.” Young Veturius agreed, oblivious to his thoughts.
“A platinum pillar to memorialize a Zilan Queen’s present,” Storm murmured thinking aloud.
“To the golden city.” Sirio added and seeing him grimacing in pain added. “You are not pleased?”
“I can’t use it. Any of this, I need to find where this Dan is, my friend. Not sit here and wonder, what the fuck made that dagger valuable enough to warrant a bloody plaque three centuries ago,” Storm replied getting up. “I’m running out of time.”
“Surely you are not expected to solve this in a month!” Sirio protested, sounding worried.
Lord Nattas nodded in agreement, just to calm him down. In reality, he probably had even less time.
That is, if he didn’t poison himself to death first.
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