The Path Now Turned (The Three Realms Book 2)

  The Three Realms

  Part Two

  The Path Now Turned

  By

  Colleen Connally

  PUBLISHED BY

  Colleen Connally

  The Three Realms

  Part Two

  The Path Now Turned

  Copyright @ 2018 by Colleen Connally

  Cover Art: Cover by Erin Dameron-Hill www.edhgraphics.blogspot.com

  Graphic art design—map

  Augustinas Raginskis

  Edited by Faith Williams

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form without permission. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Contents

  The Gift for a Euchoun

  The Soaring

  The Wedding Battle

  Changes in the Wind

  Defiance

  A Breath of Freedom

  Family Finds

  The Mark of Love

  Warning Given

  Lesson Uncovered

  Unlikely Allies

  The Darkness

  Chamber of the Lost Soul

  Woven Tales

  Fallen Shields

  The Chapel

  The Truth

  A New Threat Looms

  Path Before Her

  Courage Found

  The Fate Now Faced

  Promises Forgotten

  The Path Now Turned

  Escape from Yucca

  Arachnidan Troms

  The Council of Orimons

  Nabbe’s Wisdom

  Sae’s Tale

  Whispers in the Wind

  Arch of Garten

  Jordris

  The Awakening

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the ones I love. Bob, I would never have followed my dream without you. Gary, Tracy, Becca Lee and Jordan Robert, you are the reason I write.

  The legend, they say, is whispered within the winds along the magnificent Preda Mountains. Words and deeds never to be forgotten of the Arachnidan Terror.

  Children sing to the glory of the Sordarins. Young lads praise their heroes of the past with dreams of following in their footsteps. Old men bask in the deeds of another time, a time when the Sordarins crushed the impending threat and once more Scarladin was safe.

  The mighty Sordarins, rulers of the sky! The people look high up in the clouds and see their warriors soaring under the sun and know they are safe and secure in their world never to have to worry about the threat of the Arachnidans and the dreaded Asmeodai! The ones whose quest seek only to destroy all the Sordarins have ever known.

  Over the years, the Sordarins have slept well, secure in their knowledge the Great One watches over them, knowing that the legends hold a mighty warrior will emerge if threatened again, a warrior born with a destiny to defend their world.

  Now, though, subtle changes have emerged. Little by little, fears begin to resurface that their world, their very existence is once again threatened. They look to the skies anxiously awaiting their warrior; questioning perchance if the Great One has forgotten them.

  I know this how? I am the one born to defend their world. I, Kela Calledwdele, was born a Euchoun…I am their warrior.

  The Gift for a Euchoun

  Four moons had passed since the day Kela Calledwdele was thrust back into the Forbidden Forest. She had spent long days looking toward the sky for any sign of King Edulf recalling his Euchoun.

  Kela was that Euchoun. She was the protector of the Sordarins.

  Her path had been laid before her since her birth. The legend held that the Great One only sends Euchouns when a great need arises.

  The need arose with the Arachnidan threat.

  After the Battle of the Payelaga Desert, she had hoped she would finally be acknowledged alongside her warrior, Cono.

  Her hopes had been dashed.

  She had been sent back to the Forbidden Forest, where she had been trained as a Euchoun for over four years. In truth, this godforsaken place had been nothing more than a prison to her, keeping her from her family.

  But the life of a Euchoun was one of sacrifice.

  Each day she rose and waited on the rocky hilltop overlooking the landscape. From the north, the white-tipped mountain peaks towered above her. The steep rugged cliffs soared high into the clouds.

  Turning to the south, the small cottage where she slept sat in the middle of the narrow valley, encircled by the impenetrable foliage of the Forbidden Forest. The forest, tall and unbroken, grew thicker and taller the farther one walked, but once within, all would be lost forever.

  There was no exit to the Forbidden Forest.

  She had been taught that each day was a precious gift to be cherished, but she had only existed since being sent back.

  Her frustration welled. The time had come to take her place alongside her warrior and protect Scarladin from the dread Asmeodai. That Kela understood well, but not how to pursue the destiny she had embraced.

  The days passed with bitter disappointment, for there had been no call to return.

  Though all had not been dark and gloom.

  Despite being thrust back to the Forbidden Forest in a hurried manner, her welfare had been seen to with plentiful food and provisions. Her old nurse, Guilda, was sent back to be her companion.

  Twiten and his students no longer resided at the old castle. Yet, Twiten came at different intervals. He gave Kela a link to the world outside while overseeing her care.

  In truth, though, he had not come for an extended period.

  That was not Kela’s only worry.

  Guilda had not uttered a word of complaint. Instead, she seemed to accept their fate as she had never done before, which was not like her old nurse. Kela worried about Guilda’s health.

  Kela clung to her faith in Cono, that he would come for her.

  Cono had given his word he would come for her no later than the day the moon sits on the blue centar.

  So, Kela dreamed.

  In her dreams, she thought only of Cono. She imagined herself staring up at the open sky, anticipating Cono’s return. He would appear, soaring in the heavens. Swift and sure, he would swoop down and sweep her into his arms...taking her away from this godforsaken place, never…never to return.

  A foolish dream, for Kela imagined, in truth, Twiten would return to transport her through the portal. Johannes had told Kela the flight to the Forbidden Forest was long and tedious at best.

  Kela thought constantly upon the call for her return. She cared not if it was King Edulf himself who came.

  She wanted only to be with Cono and her family.

  Guilda held no hope. Her nurse had not expressed disbelief, but her eyes told she held no faith in any Sordarins. Guilda believed they were forgotten.

  Through it all, Kela’s belief in her warrior remained.

  The night before her eighteenth nameday, Kela spent a restless night. Sleep had not come easy. She counted the hours until the sun appeared.

  Kela rose with great anticipation. Cono would come on the day he had chosen to claim her, knowing she had been born on the day the moon sat on the blue centar.

  Cono’s words echoed in her heart. I will come. Have faith. You have my word.

  Bitter disappointment awaited her.

  With the morning dawn, Kela rose to the
sounds of the forest. There may as well have been silence. She heard nothing of what she wanted. No fluttering of wings. No call of her name. Nothing.

  Still, she dressed with care with the promise of what the day held in her simple blue wool surcoat, stained but clean. She braided the sides of her hair, letting the rest fall loose down her back.

  She planned to cook for Cono when he arrived. She had already prepared the menu. The evening meal would include fresh bread, with a meat stew with potatoes and onions. She had held onto a special gift that was in the last box left in Blackton castle’s kitchen, an old bottle of Sabot wine.

  Refusing to contemplate he had forgotten her, she made her way to the top of the tallest hillside, constantly searching the sky for any sign of her Sordarin.

  There was none.

  Desolated, Kela finally withdrew back to the cottage. To her surprise, she found her old nurse sitting at the table. It was not often Guilda got out of bed.

  On Kela’s entrance, Guilda pushed back from the table. Gripping to the edge, she steadied herself and stood.

  “Your siblings should have remembered, Kela,” Guilda said. Pity resonated in her voice. “Falco and Sareta have been given their rightful place. Yet, we are here, in the middle of nowhere. Banished.”

  “You are too hard on them,” Kela said. “It is not within their power to recall us.”

  Guilda shook her head. “Sordarins! Keeping you away from sight. Does King Edulf not know you are known? It is too late to hide you, nor is it needed. You need to go.”

  “I don’t understand what you are saying.”

  “It is your time.” Her wrinkled hand took hold of Kela’s. “No one can keep you back now. Go, my child. By the Shimmering Pool, you will find a present. It is your legacy…your destiny.”

  “I…”

  “You don’t understand,” Guilda finished for Kela. “You will. You think I have not talked to the Wood Spirit also? We have agreed it is time. Go.”

  “Where?” Kela asked, confused.

  “To your heart.”

  Tentatively, Kela eased out of the cottage. As she glanced back over her shoulder, Guilda waved her arms at Kela and shooed her down the path toward the Shimmering Pool.

  “It is your day, my child,” Guilda said. “Worry not about me.”

  Kela hesitated only a moment before she rushed over the well-worn trail. She ran all the way…then abruptly halted.

  Her hopes were dashed. There was nothing at the Shimmering Pool.

  Guilda had talked nonsense. Everyone had forgotten. Cono…Falco…Sareta…King Edulf.

  Disheartened, she fell down to her knees. Bowing her head, she wiped back a tear.

  A sudden churning of water caused Kela to lift her head.

  Kela watched the pool conjure up a hazy vision. As the mist faded, a figure materialized within...a lovely maiden with the most striking of flowing gowns. A sparkling white gown glittered in the sunlight, as if stars in the night had been sewn within the threads of the silk.

  The high-waist gown cut low against her bosom. Her chestnut hair twisted back from her face, but hung loose down her back. Blowing in the breeze, a cloak was attached to the shoulders.

  Kela couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. An aura encompassed her, which grew brighter as the lady moved slowly toward Kela…closer...and closer.

  Leaping up on her feet, Kela found she was frozen to her spot as the glowing maiden continued onward. Paralyzed, Kela found she could only gulp for air as the woman moved through her.

  In Kela’s next breath, the maiden was no more. Moreover, Kela no longer wore her old surcoat. Instead, she stood in the flowing gown from the Shimmering Pool.

  She stared at her reflection, unbelieving her own eyes. Gone was the waif of a girl, replaced by a lady, elegant and refined.

  A voice whispered in her ear.

  This is your destiny, your fate to wear. Take this leap, Kela. Follow your path. Descend down into the Shimmering Pool, for once and only once, it will take you to where your fate awaits.

  Turning and looking around, Kela scoured for the origin of the voice, but to no avail. The words echoed around her until comprehension surged within her being.

  Kela walked straight into the Shimmering Pool.

  The Soaring

  The Shimmering Pool beckoned with the promise of Kela’s future. The water separated with each step she took farther and farther into the pool.

  A sudden burst of wind blew the gown back against her legs. The cloak whipped around her, momentarily blinding her. Then, the wind halted.

  Kela was no longer in the Forbidden Forest. She found herself in a crowded marketplace, with a multitude of men and women!

  People…she was among people!

  She recognized the Street of Vinir.

  Her heart surged. Kela was back in Yucca.

  The day was glorious, with a blue sky and soft breeze. Flying high above her, hawkmen screeched loudly, proclaiming the day one to rejoice. The whole of the square was crowded and brimmed in festive celebration.

  Golden banners with the hawk sigil snapped in the wind. The carts were filled with bright scarves, beads, flowers, and the aroma of freshly baked goods.

  Behind her, an entourage rode down the street. Magnificent fleogans pranced down the street. Their riders, dressed in shining armor, escorted a parade of royal litters with golden silk curtains.

  Shouts of the people hailed their king and their prince. Music played in the distance. From the corner of her eye, she saw street performers juggling and playacting to gather laughter from their audience.

  The splendor of it all took Kela’s breath away.

  The cries continued. Long live Prince Falco! Long live Prince Falco!

  An overwhelming sense of happiness surged through her. The people truly loved her brother.

  In all of the excitement, Kela was pleased that no one seemed to have noticed her abrupt appearance. Exhilarated, she was thrilled to have returned home at this time.

  It seemed the whole of Yucca seemed to be celebrating Falco. Her heart burst with joy. She had to get to her brother and share in his moment.

  “Excuse me, my lady.”

  A voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Turning, Kela found a young Sordarin, who couldn’t have been much older than she. He was dressed in a leather bounding around his chest marked with an F, a sheathed sword to his side with his long hair bound in a queue. He was a Fledging from the citadel.

  Kela grimaced. She had not gone as unnoticed as she had hoped.

  He grinned broadly. “I thought perchance that you may have been separated from your companions. May I help you find those who you have lost?”

  His wings flexed. Behind him, Kela saw a small group of amused cadets, laughing, hitting one another in their arms, as if the young warrior came upon her on a dare.

  Pressing her lips together, she pondered a moment. How I must look with no escort! How shocking! Yet, she was not about to let a small oversight ruin her return.

  “My escort will be back momentarily,” Kela answered, not caring whether he believed her or not. “Thank you for your kind offer, but you may rejoin your friends.”

  Bowing his head slightly, he laughed a pleasant laugh. “My loss.” He backed up a step, then paused. “You aren’t from here, are you? Perhaps Brixtone?”

  Kela gave him a puzzled look.

  “It is only I have never seen you before,” he explained quickly. “You have a look of wonder in your eyes, as if you have never been to Yucca. Maybe, though, it is a royal wedding you have never experienced.”

  “Wedding?” The word escaped her lips before she thought.

  “Prince Falco.” This time it was the strange cadet who gave Kela a puzzled look. “It is why you are here this day…to celebrate his marriage. Is it not?”

  “Falco is married?” She could not contain her disbelief. She shook her head in denial. “To whom?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, his friends seemed to ha
ve lost interest in the game and followed the procession. He ignored her demand and stepped toward them, then looked back at Kela. “You’re not going?”

  “Where?” she asked, still confused.

  “To the Soaring,” he answered. His eyes lifted upward. “It will be soon. They seem to have readied.”

  Her gaze followed his to the sky.

  She caught her breath. He was right. The sky was filled with Royal Wings.

  Forgetting the Fledging, she found herself rushing toward the festivities. She disappeared into the crowd.

  Kela made her way slowly. The common folks had come out in thousands. It was hard to get through all the people pushing and shoving to get a view of the royals.

  Finally, she settled along the partition barrier that surrounded the common grounds where the Soaring was to take place. Large gold and brown Sordarin banners flew proudly on each towering perch.

  Atop the perches, Sordarin warriors stood on guard and patrolled the walkways. Across the common, the royals had taken their seats.

  A wave of envy surged through Kela.

  Her eyes first fell to King Edulf in the royal box. He wore no armor, but was draped in a golden cloak with a broadly blazoned hawk sigil, shown as he waved to the masses, one side to another. His gilded crown glistened in the sunlight.

  Beside the king, Queen Beatrix smiled as she gestured to the crowd. Her gown was a deep lavender trimmed in gold baroque damask, ornate with diamonds plated in gold. Her tiara sat on a trellis-work coif of golden silk.

  Sitting to the king’s left in a place of honor, Belasquita wore a gown of golden satin trimmed in Azmarion lace, with draped sleeves that fell down over the arm of her chair, which was covered with a blanket of white roses. Her hair had been arranged artfully in a pearl-studded net. She looked lovely.

  Below Belasquita, Sareta and Kela’s cousins sat with her aunts, both Aunt Iris and Aunt Dogmar. The women were all dressed richly in their courtly gowns.