Curseborn Saga - Fade to Black
The Curseborn Saga, Novella I: Fade to Black
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created by the Four Lords
Copyright © 2015 by Four Lords, LLC
Excerpt from Novella II: Cheaters Never Prosper copyright © 2015 by Four Lords, LLC
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by The Curseborn Saga, LLC
ISBN 978-0-9861939-0-3
eBook ISBN 978-0-9861939-2-7
Edited by Catherine Knepper
Book Cover Artwork by Jean-Christophe Pouzols
Book Illustrations by Sean Lam Hayashi
Produced by Marten D. Shanks
Original Map Design by Trowa D. Cloud
Map Artwork by Sean Lam Hayashi
Printed in the United States of America
Official Website | www.curseborn.com
Facebook | www.facebook.com/fourlords
Instagram | @cursebornsaga
Twitter | @cursebornsaga
This book is dedicated to all the great artists of the past,
To all the young artists of the future,
And to all who wish to save the world.
A special thank you to my Grandmother, Nena,
For helping me to be the man I am today.
~ Trowa D. Cloud
To my family, my alpha and my omega.
Without you, there is nothing.
~ Simon Gatsu Sandoval
To my Aunt Caroline,
Without whom,
I would have never made it past my teens.
~ Squall D. Ace
To my mother, who is to me, the sky that holds the stars.
~ Marten D. Shanks
TABLE OF CONTENTS
NOVELLA I: FADE TO BLACK
IV – THE TRUTH OF INNER DEPTHS
VII – A PATH OF LIGHT AND DARK
XIII – THE MASTER OF THE FOREST
MAP OF SORIA
They soar beyond the fiery stars
Entwined through all worlds,
Both near and far
The beginning in truth rests with none,
Like the eyes of those who grasped the Sun
Leaves us keen to the sense that they have always been,
The curves of the ring lay shrouded yet seen
The black boundless void that cages us all,
Is granted no mercy from the cold ring’s call
Yet not without warmth does the ring curve again,
Bringing light to the dark of the vast cage within
As Night follows Day,
The ring curves away
For this voids one of many,
Not one as they say
- Virth, the Ghost of Guardian
Foreword – Of the Sorians
T
o those who gaze up at the stars at night in wonder, and to those who are willing to set forth on this dangerous adventure with us, there are a few things that I must say to you in hopes of simplifying the transition from your world, to
theirs.
Lend me your imagination.
In a protected part of the Universe, far, far away from here, there exists a solar system known as the Aethir Ring. The Aethir Ring is the oldest and most primeval solar system of our Universe, and it is home to seven Gods. Here, my brother—the scribe of this tale—would ask you, in an attempt to frame perspective, to take a moment and imagine Olympus, the home of the Greek Gods of myth and legend. In doing so, he would suggest that if you are to view Olympus as the realm of the Gods as they look over Earth, then you could comparatively view the Aethir Ring as the realm of the Gods as they look over the Universe.
Snap.
Occasionally, I will run on slight tangents and will use this practice of
snapping
to ensure that I make haste, as their story rests just inside your grasp, but just on the other side of my words.
Seven worlds exist within the Aethir Ring. Each unique world is a home to one of the seven Gods where they sit on thrones of their own element. One of these worlds is home to the Goddess of Life, and is known as planet Aeryx. Far above the unexplored surface of Aeryx, there exist two floating lands, much like earthen wings, with lush forests, tall mountains, and running rivers. These lands are home to those closest to the Goddess of Life; they are her first friends, they are her only family, and they are her heart. They are—the Sorians.
Ah, the Sorians, what a beautiful and powerful race of beings! Essentially . . . badass Demi-Gods. No combination of words could better describe the Sorians, but even with these three words as a foundation, one cannot claim to know the Sorians. I imagine that inside, they are very much a people like your own. They eat, sleep, get angry, get sad, become frustrated, love, hate, seek revenge, stand up for each other, kill each other, smile, cry, scream, create, destroy, dream, succeed, fail, fail again, protect . . .
Snap.
Protect.
A long time ago, after the blip in “time” they call EIEN, the first race born after the Gods came to be in the form of two dragons, known now as Night and Day. The Sorians are the grandchildren of these two majestic beasts, which reveals to you the oldest truth of the Sorians: That although they walk with the bodies of Gods, the proud blood of dragons flows strongly through their veins. Hence,
demi
-god; hence,
badass
.
Because of their dragon-roots, the Sorians are a more aggressive race, and can experience heightened emotions which often lead to more instinctual behavior and unique personalities. A Sorian’s personality is so deeply rooted in his or her being that their very life force can take visceral form. This form, or this visible energy, is part of the subtle body, not the physical body, and is known among their race as Aura. Each Sorian’s Aura is different, and it can allow another way to transcend their physical strength, should they choose to train it. And should they choose to strengthen their Aura, in times of Eiendrahk they can call upon their energy to uphold the Law of Sacrifice and . . . to protect
her.
The Sorians are the Guardians of Life and will forever defend her with their lives from the God of Death each time he breaks free of his chains and brings his dark and never-ending war to their world, for he is Death, and above all else, Death craves Life. The God of Death is an ever-consuming, possessed-with-passion-obsessed being, unlike any other you have ever encountered—calm, composed, meticulous-in-strategy, and patient with an unquenchable and ravenous desire for
her
. . .
Snap
.
A couple of things worth noting . . . Sorians are immortal in the sense that they cannot be killed by Time. Again my brother’s voice enters my mind: Time is hideously upset about this trait of theirs. But although they cannot be killed by Time, a mortal wound
can
kill them.
Because of their partial immortality, the Sorians live on a time frame very different to your own. Even the words they use are different. For example, where you say the word “hour,” they would say “shade.” Two shades is the near equivalent of two hours. Also, what we call a “year” would be known to them as a “ring.” A ring, to Sorians, is but a small tick in time. Again, for example, you might have a birthday once a year, while Sorians have a birthday once every hundred rings, or once every Cycle, the near equivalent of a century. It would be good for you to understand that, when our telling of the story begins (which is nowhere near the beginning of the story), there are living Sorians who were among the Firstborn—or the first Sorians to have ever opened their eyes. This means that some of the Sorians you will meet will have been living for seven hundred cycles, nearly 700 centuries, since just after the birth of our Universe.
Shade, ring, cycle . . . These words and many others are different for a simple reason. Sorians do not speak in any dialect that you would be familiar with on Earth. They have their own beautifully crafted language, known to us only as the Language of the First. And I only hope that we have held true to the heart and spirit of their tongue in our telling of their tale.
A few more things I’d like to note on the Sorians. They age in a very peculiar manner compared to us reason-and-logic-minded humans. A Sorian ages according to how they feel in their current state. For example, a child who is happy as a child may remain a child longer than a Sorian who is more ready for adolescence. An old man in Soria is only an old man because he has chosen to become an old man. A boy in his teens can remain a boy in his teens if he so desires. You age in accordance to your own heart.
Snap
.
Physicality.
Silhouetted, and from a distance, a Sorian would not look much different from you or me, but to assume that they are anything near human would be a tragic misconception. All Sorians have a strange, bone-like armor that grows out of their skin, much like an exoskeleton, in a way that is unique to each and every Sorian. This bone armor is known as Hollow
.
There are other characteristics, of course, that show how Sorians resemble those of their bloodline. For starters, their eyes, the windows to their soul, have a deep, predator-like vertical pupil, exactly like those of their dragon ancestors. You will find that some Sorians more resemble dragons, while others will more resemble gods. For example, you may encounter a Sorian with horned ears and patches of scales, but you may also encounter one with fair and beautiful skin, and only the presence of the most delicate, striking and elegantly placed Hollow would confirm their dragon lineage.
When the Sorians first came to be, their Hollow was white, flawless, and pure. Together they were the most beautiful beings in existence; a race unified and constant, with one burning purpose, to protect
her
. But cycles changed them, physically and mentally. After the dawn of the Curse, the Hollow of many Sorians began to fade to black. A once-whole and spirited world did not seem as one anymore, and those who were different, those with the darkness, came to be known as the
Curseborn.
Snap.
Before I go, I would like you to know that the adventure you are soon to embark on tells tales of freedom, friendship, and willpower, in a way that I can hardly manage to describe. The two boys, and the many others along the way, have become some of my closest friends. They have become those whom I look to during trials in my own life, for in comparison to their mission of protecting the Goddess of Life (which in turn ensures the safety of everything, including even you and me in our vast Universe), my burden seems suddenly and surprisingly light.
Snap.
P.S. Caim is pronounced “kime,” and rhymes with “time.”
Snap
.
~ M.D.S