The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim (51 page)

BOOK: The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim

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The Shadow King stood motionless over his prey, heels at the edge of the bridge. He quivered, impaled on a dozen invisible blades and one very visible. Blood trickled down Caspian's steel as Ardin looked back with disbelieving eyes. He shoved the sword up higher, grating deeper into the Shade's chest before he dragged it down and free. He could feel the spikes come back to him as the life left his enemy.

The mountain shuddered again as the Shadow King lost his balance. His eyes gaped wide as his body fell slowly back. His hands opened, and the legendary sword rattled on the bridge as he tilted and fell. Ardin knelt on the stone as he watched the black-armored figure of the King of the Shades fall silently into the mists. His cape whipped and cracked as the swirling darkness reached for him, and then he was gone.

Ardin swallowed air like he had never breathed. He choked and coughed and swore. And then he stared silently over the edge. He couldn't believe it. He was gone. Just like that. It was over. He looked down at his cuts. Despite how minor they looked, he had come closer to dying there than he ever had before. He knew it. He focused the warmth on the wounds, willing them closed.

The mountain shook again, rattling the Shadow King's blade on the granite. Ardin took a moment from healing to reach for it. It was surprisingly light for how long it was. The curved gray steel was sharp enough to cut at the lightest contact. He rolled it in his hands for a moment, testing the balance. Appreciating the craftsmanship. It was a truly beautiful sword, he had never seen anything like it. And then it wavered and vanished.

Ardin got up with a start. His heart raced as he looked around, but there was nothing to be seen. No enemies at hand. The mountain shook more violently, dislodging boulders and sending them tumbling into the chasm of the abyss.

And then he heard something different. The noise of a thousand tortured screams came whirling up from the abyss as from one throat. He shuddered at the sound, but his curiosity won out. Ardin walked back to the edge of the bridge, placing his foot carefully at the lip before he leaned forward to look. Something rushed past him as he did, throwing him off balance as he backed away. A small black cloud of writhing energy rushed towards the sky, wailing as it went. He watched it circle slowly in the air as if searching for something.

Then it stopped suddenly, as if seeing him for the first time.

Ardin Vitalis watched with wide eyes as the black mist rushed down and poured into him. He fell back as it did so, throwing his arms up and fighting vainly to keep it at bay. But all he could do was scream as the world turned to shadow and fog.

COMING SOON

THE CONCLUSION TO THE VITALIS CHRONICLES TRILOGY

STEPS
OF
KRAKADOR

BY
JAY SWANSON

VISIT
WWW.VITALISCHRONICLES.COM
NOW

AND SIGN UP FOR THE NEWSLETTER TO BE ALERTED THE INSTANT IT IS AVAILABLE

Thanks for reading
Tomb of the Relequim
! I hope you enjoyed it and are dying to read
Steps of Krakador
, the third and final book in the Vitalis Chronicles trilogy. A lot of people ask me how far this is going, and I wanted to let you know now that this trilogy is only the beginning. The stories from Veria, Grandia, Trauncia, and the rest are just getting started. Even some of the characters in this book will get their own moment to shine, particularly the Shadow King, Cid, and the Elder Magi. Not to mention Khrone's Hunters. Whether it's the history of the Old Guard or the retelling of the Purge, there will be many stories to come.

But this is just the launching point for a much bigger, broader story. The history of this world is just about to unfold, and I can't wait to get it all to you!

Please leave a review on Amazon, a comment on my blog, and join my newsletter to be the first to know when
Steps of Krakador
is released!

Thanks again!

-Jay (
@jayonaboat
on Twitter)

www.jayswanson.me

www.vitalischronicles.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No book ever makes it to print without a lot of help along the way. At least, that's the impression I'm under. I owe a lot of thanks to a lot of people, but I should start with Nils, Jeff, Peter, Rob, Shelby, Jenna, and Caleb who have the honor of reading my work first, and the duty of telling me just what exactly is wrong with it.

Jenna, of course, edits it as well - which is a massive and amazing undertaking - and then Ali did a fantastic job of proofing. There's a reason they deserve a dedication along the way, largely because they help hide my faults from the rest of you.

Dan was indispensable as a military consultant with his background in Special Forces, and his input will be seen even more in
Steps of Krakador
. My buddy Sam gave me some fantastic feedback as well, and has found himself destined to join the above group of beta readers.

Sam Spratt did a wonderful job with the cover art. He was very quick clean and professional, which was exactly what I needed at the time.

But producing a second book wouldn't have been possible without the number of people who have championed White Shores over the last year. I've been thoroughly surprised by how many people have not only enjoyed the book, but actually loved it enough to share it! To them I owe the biggest thanks (though sadly the most ambiguous), because without your love for Ardin, Anders, Cid and the rest, these books wouldn't be going anywhere. It's in the darker moments that your love for my books (and constant harassment about the release date) keep me going.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the conclusion when it arrives.

A
BOUT ME
(
IN MY OWN WORDS
)

I’ve been telling stories ever since I was a kid. Whether it was writing myself into fantastical battles with my friend John in my grandmother’s basement or telling my parents tall tales about exploding squirrels, I’ve always told stories. I wrote my first play when I was in first grade. We actually produced it and I found the tape a few years back to prove it. Man was it awesome. I mean, you probably wouldn’t like it, but there were dragons and I was a prince and there was a princess to save… who doesn’t want that to happen in real life?

I mean honestly, that’s why I write. I do it because there’s a part of me that yearns for something more than what I can see; what is available to me on a daily basis. I want to be a part of a grand adventure where I’m the hero and just make it through by the skin of my teeth. The real-life situations where that happens are never so glorious as to provide the kind of satisfaction my stories can.

And so I write. Isn’t that why we read? To escape, to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes and see the world through their eyes? We’re all looking to live vicariously through someone else (except for the rare few among us who might actually be content with life). Perhaps we just like to be entertained, but there’s something much deeper and more real in a good book than simple entertainment. We extend ourselves into and through the words to become something greater than we already were. Good books can change us.

I don’t know that my own work is good enough to change people, but I know it was good enough to change me.