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  Begrudgingly, Ravion complied and sat. He was uncomfortable being the center of attention, but it was something he was going to have to get used to.

  Approaching, Kashien placed the crown upon Ravion’s head. “Behold, your new emperor.”

  The twelve dalari around the edge dropped to one knee, bowing their acceptance.

  As the others, Kashien bowed as far as his body would allow. It sucked getting old. Pushing himself back up, he reached beneath his robes and retrieved a glowing blue stone. “This is what’s kept me alive all these years. I trust you to keep it safe. Nobody can know its whereabouts. This stone, for all its glories, has the power to destroy our people.” Raising it to the air, he released the magic within. “All dalari, return to Dranar. Your emperor has ascended the throne.”

  Ravion felt the words inside his head. It was then, he knew what Kashien had done. He’d recalled his people. Every single one that had been in hiding all this time, they were coming home.

  Kashien handed the stone to Ravion and turned toward the door. “Be well my friend.” Slowly reaching the doorway, Kashien stepped through, his body erupted as he went. With that, he was gone.

  The full moon brightly illuminated the secluded grove, displaying thirteen cloaked figures. Two rested in the center of the group, one standing the other kneeling.

  “Your time has come. Remove your cloak and be named the twelfth horator.”

  Demetrix stared up at the myrkalfar’s face, trusting him completely. Dropping his hood, he let the heavy cloth fall down his back, displaying his shirtless form to the elements.

  “Present your bow.”

  Whipping the reforged piece of enchanted wood around, Demetrix brought it up, holding his weapon horizontally in both hands.

  “Repeat after me. I, child of Ur, swear my fealty to Celnuntos and promise to do all within my power to protect his domains from any threat, unnatural or mundane. For it is a horator’s duty to serve the lands he calls home as the last defense against enemies both near and far.”

  Demetrix recited the words, feeling the mystical energies swirling around him.

  “Llaf I llahs os, nrob saw I sa!”

  A strong gust of wind picked up, encircling the two central beings. The energies began to glow green and Demetrix felt his left shoulder blade sting. Resolved against the pain, he held fast, watching his master disappear into the green sparks flying around him. Suddenly, the wind settled and he stood among his eleven brothers.

  A dark green mark, matching the sigil of Celnuntos was embedded on his back. Getting to his feet, he lifted his bow and glanced around at the other horators. One by one, they stepped from the grove, leaving their new member to his mission.

  “Remember my training, for a horator must never forget what he fights for. Now, go. Go and return to your beloved Irayth. Restore the blessings of Celnuntos to those accursed lands.”

  Demetrix felt the words inside him. He’d been told about the ritual, but hadn’t fully understood it until now. His master was now a part of him. And one day, long from now, he would impart his knowledge on to another skilled archer. As was the way of the horator.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “I am. This feud has gone on long enough.” Ravion stated to his old friend. Patting the hydralfar captain on the shoulder he continued. “My people have lost enough. If I don’t do this, both our races will continue to suffer.”

  “I understand. I always have. That’s why I took you in so long ago. But I urge you to err on the side of caution. The emperor may have changed many times since the decree was implemented. That doesn’t mean this one won’t still try to enforce it. I mean, look at the attack you suffered as a child. That wasn’t some nobody giving the command. That order came directly from the emperor. It’s a sad reality, but most are afraid of that which they don’t understand. Sadder yet, are those whom hold positions of power. Their fear tends to blow everything out of proportion. I’m not saying don’t try. Simply, be careful, what you’re talking about is suicide.”

  “I ask you to trust me, as you did so long ago. Besides, I have many friends and resources at my disposal now. Your emperor would be a fool to attack me openly. Such a rash decision would display weakness in his rule and before long his line would be removed from power.”

  “You speak as if you hold the favor of all thirteen dynasties.”

  “Not all thirteen. But enough have heard my voice.”

  “I see. Just promise me you won’t do anything foolish. You’ve come a long way since that boy I pulled out of the water so many years ago. I’d hate to see you meet your end today.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “And you seem to worry too little.”

  Another figure approached the pair.

  Dropping his forest green hood, the myrkalfar nodded at them. “They’re here. Are you ready?” Aldulrien asked.

  “As ready as I’m going to be.” Ravion replied, silently thanking the Evinwood King.

  Had it not been for his friendship he wouldn’t have been able to reach out to the dynasties individually, which would have made this meeting impossible without force.

  “Lead the way.”

  Pulling his cloak overhead, Ravion followed the alfaren king, hearing the footsteps of his old friend and former captain at his heels. He was grateful both had been so accommodating. It was these alfar that gave their entire race hope for a peaceful future.

  The group made their way through the grandest city Ravion had ever seen. It may have not been larger than Idenfal or Dranar, but it was certainly grander. The majestic colors and smooth contours made it feel tranquil and inviting. It reminded him of the brief time he’d spent in Adariel. Though there was a stronger natural presence there than he felt here. This place felt like magic. It was coursing through the columns and walls, serving as an invisible protector against any threat. But that wouldn’t stop him. His kind taught the alfar about magic. If it came to open war, they stood little chance. But such threats held no place in his heart. He was certain he could settle this with words. But in the off chance he couldn’t, battle would remain the last result so long as he lived.

  They reached a large amphitheater near the city’s center. The acoustics were fantastic. The alfar, collected at the base, were casually talking among one another, their voices little more than a whisper. Yet Ravion could hear every word as if he were standing right beside them. They made their way to the base, awaiting the emperor’s arrival.

  Taking position to the side, careful to stay out of everyone’s way, Ravion watched them mingle. They acted like long lost brothers and sisters whom hadn’t seen each other in years. Sure, some didn’t get along, that much was clear. But they held a respect for one another nonetheless.

  Hearing the echoing alfaren horns, the group silenced and turned to watch their emperor approach.

  Six alfar, dressed in constricting, yet graceful robes of gold and white carried a large palanquin down the steps. Reaching the bottom, the front two stepped away, leaving the others to support the weight. One of the alfar got to his hands and knees, taking position beneath the door, while the other opened the smooth portal on the side of the enclosed cabin. A young boy stepped out, dressed in grand robes matching that of the city. Ensuring solid footing on the alfar’s back, he gracefully stepped to the ground where he took his seat in a throne that had been placed for him earlier. “You called this meeting of the dynasties? I have more important matters to attend.”

  Ravion was taken back at how young he was. Even for an alfar, he would have expected someone in his hundreds at the least. But this child didn’t appear any older than eleven or twelve seasons.

  The alfar stood silent for a long moment, letting their emperor get comfortable.

  “Spit it out. Who called us here?”

  “I did, My Lord.” Aldulrien announced, stepping forward and bowing deeply.

  “And you are?”

  “Aldulrien Quetalious Denarie, My Lord. King of Evinwood a
nd Lord of the Eighth Dynasty.”

  “I see. And why did you summon us today? Would it not have been simpler to send a missive, rather than requesting each of us to travel half way across to realm to this—” The emperor paused a moment, looking around as if he was disgusted by the sights before him. “—place?”

  “My Lord, Lorengale is not simply a place revered by our kind. It’s the one site known to all alfar where title and dynasty hold no power over another. That’s why all disputes, treaties, and matters pertaining to the alfar as a whole are conducted here. This is the one place where all voices are heard.” Aldulrien explained. “As for my summons, I have a friend who would like to speak to you.”

  The myrkalfar king nodded to Ravion, granting him the floor.

  Ravion stepped to the center of the amphitheater, sorting out exactly what he was going to say. This was the moment he’d been working up to his whole life. The moment when he would save his people. Dropping his hood, he heard a few gasps of shock from the assembled alfar. But he’d paid many of them a visit, asking their support prior to this day. He was relieved to see they’d come to honor their bond.

  “My Lords, kings, emperors, and alfar of status. My name is Ravion Santail and I’m here to inform you that I am the rightful emperor to the dalari throne. For too long now, your people have waged a silent war against mine, attempting genocide each time we are found out. I’m here to tell you, that ends today. My people are returning home and you will not stand against them ever again. It is my understanding that you, Emperor Julien the Sixth, are not directly responsible for the atrocities that have befallen my people. That was the legacy of your ancestors. I hope a different legacy for you.”

  Reaching into his cloak, Ravion retrieved a sealed scroll. Pulling it out for all to see, he broke the seal and unrolled it, displaying the golden etchings on the page. “I have here the Seal of Vascreil. Signed by the first alfaren emperor, Vascreil himself.”

  Shocked expressions filled the area, amplified by the dish they were standing in.

  “I ask you, will you continue on the path your ancestors laid out? The path that will lead to your destruction. Or will you honor your founders and end this foolish obsession against my people?”

  Ravion laid the seal in the emperor’s lap, allowing the boy to look upon it. Waiting patiently, he kept his gaze locked. He knew his words were a bit direct. Such a thing was a dangerous game in politics, but in this scenario he held all the cards. It only made sense to win without a fight.

  The boy emperor reviewed the golden etchings. Rolling the seal, he handed it back to the towering dalari. “You’ve made your case well. From this day forward the dalari are to be considered our allies. Any attacks made against them will be considered an attack against me!”

  Demetrix stood in the underground chamber of Eldarian, overlooking the ancient mirror. He was ready to go home. Ravion had taken the throne and demanded peace with the alfar. He was on his own journey. It was Demetrix’s time to complete his.

  Drawing a line in the floor, before the mirror, he could see the green rune come to life. It was the sigil of Celnuntos, bonding a link between worlds. When he reached the other side he was going to have to draw one there as well. Finishing his sigil, he took a deep breath and stepped through.

  The air was chilly and uncomfortable. But the crypt remained very much the same as the last time he’d seen it. Perhaps more moss, but who cared? Quickly scribing his rune, he made his way from the hole in the ground and looked out over the gloomy world he’d chosen to call home.

  The dark, rolling clouds collected in the distance. It seemed they didn’t agree with him. But that was all right. He was chosen by a god, and that god, while lesser compared to Izaryle’s status, would protect him.

  Turning north, Demetrix stepped into the dead forest. The trees were barren of fruit and absent their leaves, if they could even grow them. This being his second time here, they didn’t appear to have changed. Reaching the hill top, he looked as far north as he could.

  “Elalon, my love, I’ll be home soon.”

  While this book concludes the Heroes of Order tales, that doesn’t mean the saga is complete.

  Be sure to stay up to date with the newest Eldarlands books at http://www.levisamuel.com

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  Continue the Adventure

  Rise of the Nightkings

  What was supposed to be a simple task quickly becomes a world ending battle as the vicious Nightkings march across the lands of Irayth. Little by little the realm falls to shadow. Friendships turn bitter. Love becomes lost. And possessing magic may as well be a death warrant.

  Before long, only a spark remains in the night. And at the core of that spark stands Inyalia, a young elven woman who dreamed of nothing more than protecting her homeland as a ranger.

  She got her wish. Will she have what it takes to live it?

  Author’s Notes

  A book is an adventure. It doesn’t matter whether you’re the reader, author, editor, or some random person that finds it on the street and uses the pages to keep warm during a cold winter night. A book is an adventure for any whom come in contact with it. And while I hope you enjoy the story within these pages, preferable outside the need to burn them, I’d like to talk a little about the adventures I had while writing it.

  I hadn’t originally planned to write this book. Everything that’s happened in story prior to now, yes. But this book was not intended as part of the original story. I was going to end it when Gareth and Demetrix stepped into the flash of light at the end of book two. Which if you recall that far back, I’d originally intended to be a single book. But things don’t always turn out as we plan. And in my opinion, the story is all the better for it.

  A friend of mine called after reading the original draft. He complained about the story’s ending. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like it. He was concerned about where it was going to go from there. I explained that I was going to continue their tale somewhere around book seven in my original plan. But I first needed to get the other pieces of the world written so it could all come together for that final chapter of the puzzle. Needless to say, he wasn’t having any part of it. It was pointedly explained that book seven was too long of a wait for resolution. Apparently having your main characters disappear in a ball of light isn’t a satisfactory ending. Moreover, he explained that if I didn’t complete this part of the story before I moved on to the next part, not only would I have a whole bunch of pissed off readers on my hands, but he was going to come to my house and beat the hell out of me.

  So, I did what any sane person who’d just been threatened with bodily harm would do. I started writing an outline. In truth, I wasn’t overly concerned with having my ass kicked. Sure, he’s quite a bit bigger than me, but I’m sure I’m faster. And while I doubt he’d actually go far as to hurt me over a book, he made some good points that required consideration. In the end, I decided he was right, and the fruits of that conversation is what you hold in your hands. (That is provided you’re holding your reading device. For All I know you’re sitting at a computer and reading from afar.)

  I don’t want to say the content of this book was made up on the fly. Quite the contrary. The elements of this story were planned since I first decided to write the series. And while the events that took place were sometimes not as mapped out as I prefer, every detail was a part of a bigger picture that I’ve been striving to relay since the beginning. I have numerous world rules that I keep in place. They help me shape the story. Certain elements are set in stone and cannot be broken. This keeps my stories balanced and making some level of sense, though clarity will continue to rise as the series continues, and more books are released.

  In these books, you’ve heard mention of a few gods. Some have been a lesser status, some greater. And considering this story is somewhat driven by divine influence, this makes sense. It seems more gods are coming into the fold with each passing book. But what y
ou haven’t discovered yet is the fact that the pantheon is complete and fully functional. Every god (or goddess) is already in play. Some of them without anyone’s knowledge at this point in time. I guess what I’m trying to say is that these world rules I keep around have been in play for years. I have an entire, functioning world in my head that I’m trying to bring to paper for your pleasure, and if you’ll be patient with me, I plan to bring you many more books, packed full of excitement, adventure, magic, dragons, gods, war, blood, and perhaps even sex. But not too much sex as I try to keep my porn separate from my fantasy. Good luck finding any of that out there.

  Now that this trilogy is complete, it’s time to move on to the next piece of the puzzle. In that story we’ll explore the realm of Irayth a little more in depth. There we’ll discover how it became the dreaded world of darkness you saw in book two. There may even be a camo scene in there somewhere.

  After that, we’ll be moving onto the next trilogy, which will be more about the Eldar Races and their place in the world. But anyway, too much talk of the future, we’re supposed to be taking about the now.

  Those that know me personally know that I’m a fairly quiet and reclusive person. That is until you get to know me, or really if it’s a small setting. I don’t do well with groups. Where I’m going with this, once you get to know me, you’ll discover that I’m always joking. I enjoy humor in many forms. When I have the opportunity to tell a joke, I seize it. But being an author means I can do one better. I can hide jokes throughout my work. And that’s exactly what I did in this book. I sprinkled my twisted sense of humor throughout this novel, just waiting for people like you to find it. Some are plainly visible, others will take some looking, but I assure you, there are plenty for you to find. But don’t worry, the story is still fully intact. If I dropped one, it settled with the elements around it. And I’ll tell you, nothing gets you through some trying times like a good joke.