Deliverance

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Authors: Brittany Comeaux

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BOOK: Deliverance
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DELIVERANCE

 

by

Brittany Comeaux

Text © 2012-2014, Brittany Comeaux

All Rights Reserved

 

Cover Art © 2013-2014 Brittany Comeaux

Crystal © stock image, Kyla Andersen

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

Prologue

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

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

About the
Author

PROLOGUE

 

The lingering odor of arid smoke filled the
dawn air over a small village now lay in a pile of ash after a
brutal attack. The vicious attack was carried out the previous
night by soldiers from the kingdom of Daldussa. The village they
ravaged was in Cierith, a smaller kingdom that lay to the east of
Daldussa. Only three nights before, the invading king had sent out
his troops to take the rest of the land. This village was one of
the first of many that suffered at the hands of the greedy king of
Daldussa.

Fortunately, a small group of soldiers from
Cierith that escaped from Cartigo with the last member of the royal
family, the princess, and they were staying in the village during
the attack. Since she was only a child, the villagers, who were so
loyal to their beloved king, sheltered the little princess without
hesitation. Daldussan soldiers raided the village a few hours later
and ordered the citizens to hand the princess over, but they
refused. As punishment for the villagers’ insolence, the Daldussan
soldiers then burned the village to the ground and even though many
lives were lost that day, the Cierith soldiers fought with all of
their strength and managed to halt the attack and save as many
people as they could.

“How many survivors are there?” asked a
tall, armored knight. He had just plunged his sword into the back
of a Daldussan soldier at his feet and was speaking to a Cierithian
foot soldier who stood a few feet away.

“Only half a dozen or so, General Fletcher.
There were so many Daldussan soldiers that we could only save a
small group of villagers,” replied the soldier. The general was not
from Daldussa, but from Cierith and he wore lighter colored armor
of silver with gold trim and had a long, royal blue cape that
floated in the breeze behind him. The battle helm he wore on his
head matched his body armor and covered the sides of his face and
his nose. Enough of his face was visible to see his black goatee
and warm, brown eyes.

The general looked behind the other Cierith
soldier present to see a group of village refugees huddling
together, trying in vain to comfort one another after the horrors
they had witnessed in the middle of the night. The early morning
light peeked over the horizon, but was in no way a new beginning
for anyone in Cierith.

“You did your best, as did the other
soldiers. Sometimes one can only save so many innocents from harm,”
the general regretfully muttered. The general then looked around
and noticed the other soldiers that escaped from the castle with
him, but then he realized someone was missing. “Where is the
princess?” he asked in a panic.

The soldiers all heard him and looked around
frantically, muttering to each other, “I thought she was with
you!”

The general suddenly looked in the direction
of a pile of burnt wood where an inn used to be and his heart
sank.

“AMELIA!” he yelled, dropping his sword and
dashing into the rubble. He anxiously sifted through the wreckage
to find the floor, praying with all of his soul that she was all
right. A few of the other soldiers came to help him, and
eventually, the general spotted the door that opened to a cellar
under the floor. He lifted the door and peeked inside and, with a
great sigh of relief, saw the shape of a little girl huddling in
the corner, clutching her doll to her chest. She was weeping and
didn’t look up when she saw light.

“Thank goodness! Amelia, are you hurt?” the
general asked the little girl.

The frail little child managed to mutter,
“My arm hurts.”

The general quickly jumped down into the
room, pick up Amelia, and carry her out of the cellar. The first
thing he noticed when they reached the sunlight was blood on her
night dress and her doll. The general found a place to set her
down, while trying to shield her from the ruined village. After she
was seated at the foot of a tree, the general rolled up her sleeve
to check for a wound and saw a long gash on the top of her forearm.
The general called another soldier over to clean it and wrap it
with bandages.

“The poor child,” muttered one of the other
soldiers as the general walked away from Amelia.

“What are we going to do now, General? Where
can we take her?” asked another soldier.

“The old mage who trained her mother lives
in the Dwarven Mountains, and since the dwarves were friends of the
king, we should have no trouble seeking refuge there, especially
because we have Amelia,” explained the general.

“Oh, I think remember him. What was his name
again?” asked the first soldier.

“Thaddeus. Amelia has inherited some magic
power from her mother, and so it would be best that she learns to
defend herself for when she is older. Until then, I will not break
my promise to her father. Before he was killed, he begged me to
protect her with my life and I vowed on my sword that I would,”
replied the general.

“G-general?” stuttered the soldier tending
to Amelia. When the general turned around, he came upon a
heartbreaking sight.

Amelia stared at the wreckage of the
village. Meek and small as she was, she clutched her doll in one
hand and let it hang by her side as she stared helplessly at the
burnt buildings and corpses. The general saw the little girl start
to shake, and so he slowly walked around her and knelt down in
front of her. The general removed his helmet to reveal a soft, sad
expression. The soldiers were taken aback by this since they were
used to the stern, stone-like expression that the general usually
wore. The general’s warm brown eyes locked onto Amelia’s big green
ones and without a word, he embraced her and let her cry on his
shoulder.

“Is this . . . my fault?” she cried.

“No, no, no; this is not your fault,” the
general said softly. He then pulled her off of his shoulder, looked
her in the eyes again, and said, “Listen to me, Amelia. There are
very bad people in this world, some of whom will kill others to get
the things they want. You’ve just witnessed what bad people can be
capable of. However, just as there are bad people, there are also a
lot of good people.”

The little girl sniffed and with a weak
smile, asked, “Like my mommy?”

The general managed to smile, “Yes, your
mommy was a very good person, and she loved you more than
anything.”

“My daddy was a good person too, right?”
Amelia innocently asked.

“Amelia, your father was without a doubt the
bravest and kindest man I have ever met. Your parents were very
good people, and they raised you to be the same way. They did not
deserve their fate, and you don’t deserve to suffer as you have,”
replied the general.

Just then, two more Cierith soldiers came
running over a hill next to the village. One of them gasped,
“General Fletcher! More Daldussan troops are coming! This time, the
king is with them!”

“Damn! Why in the world is he coming too?”
one of the soldiers cursed.

“They probably haven’t heard any word from
the ones we’ve killed, so the king is most likely coming to see to
this matter himself,” said the general.

“This . . . this king is a bad person, huh?”
Amelia asked, even though the poor child knew the answer.

The general looked at her, sighed, and said,
“Yes, Amelia. In fact, he is as bad as they come. His name is
Bogdan Dracnov, and he is the cruelest, most vile human being
alive. I know now that he will stop at nothing to find you.”

“But why?” asked the little girl with big
watery eyes.

The general sighed again and said, “You
don’t want this to happen again, do you?”

The little girl glanced at the ruins again
and shook her head. Her messy, light brown hair bounced around her
shoulders as she did.

“Well, I’m afraid this will keep happening
until the king finds you. You are the only member of the royal
family that is still alive, and so until you are dead, the king
will continue to destroy villages and towns looking for you.
However,” the general paused when he saw Amelia’s eyes start to
well up again and then continued, “If we can make him think that
you died here today as he intended, he will not hurt any more
people to try and find you. No more innocent people will be killed
looking for you, but you will still live. Are you willing to leave
your old life behind for the benefit of your people, Princess
Amelia Atteberry?”

The little girl looked down at her slippers
for a moment and then looked back at the general and tearfully
nodded. When he grabbed her doll from her hand, however, she
protested.

“No! Don’t take her!” she cried, trying to
pull it back.

“Amelia, I’m sorry, but I need you to be
strong. You’re a big girl now and I am sorry your childhood had to
end this way, but we have no choice,” the general replied.

Amelia then tearfully and gradually released
her grip on the doll.

The general then handed it to one of the
other soldiers and said, “I want you to dress in the Daldussan
armor from one of the soldiers we killed and present that to the
king when he arrives. Tell him that her body was burned beyond
recognition, but that you killed her yourself and guarantee that
she’s dead. I’ll be waiting with Amelia a mile south of here; when
you get a chance, tell the other soldiers you are going to check
out the area and head in our direction. All of us will then
continue south to the Dwarven Mountains.”

“Yes, General!” the soldier replied,
saluting.

The general stood and placed his helm back
onto his head. Amelia grabbed his armored hand, which seemed to
swallow her little hand whole, and asked in a weak voice, “Gavril,
what are we going to do once we get to Master Thaddeus’s
house?”

Gavril stood still for a moment, and then
looked down at the little girl and replied, “I don’t know. We will
just have to move one day at a time and try our best to survive
whatever trials may come next.”

CHAPTER 1

 

Crystal awoke with a start from a troubling
dream that had been reoccurring every night for several weeks. In
the dream, she always saw an enormous shadow and a blood red glow
in the sky. Every night the terrifying creature wreaked havoc on
the land, brutally killing everyone in its path.

The part that frightened Crystal the most
was that the shadow seemed to look directly into her eyes. Its eyes
were blood red like the sky, and when she looked back at them, it
seemed that the cold whisper of death whispered her name. The dream
always ended with a red beam shooting straight into the sky,
causing the earth to shake violently.

Crystal came back to reality and looked
above her headboard through the window. Even in her hazy, dreamy
state, she could still barely make out the sound of a light winter
rain tapping on the dirty glass. She could see that it was very
early morning, but she decided not to go back to sleep for fear of
the dream haunting her again. She sat up and with a snap of her
fingers, a small fire appeared in her hand. She immediately lit the
candle on the nightstand next to her bed. Her cobalt blue robe hung
on a hook next to her nightstand; she quickly grabbed it and
wrapped it around herself to warm the chill growing inside her
bones. She also donned her boots and sash, but most importantly,
she put on her pendant with the fuchsia colored gem.

While most mages used a staff to control
their powers, Crystal chose a special gem that was often built into
staves and made it into a pendant. If she were to cast a large
spell without wearing the pendant, she would not only lose control
of her power, but her body would be drained of energy. The little
fire spell she used was simple enough to control for a more
advanced mage like herself.

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