Elvensty Read online

  Elvensty

  Book 1 of the Swordflower Saga

  M. B. Aznoe

  Copyright © 2018 M. B. Aznoe

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1717097812

  ISBN-13: 978-1717097811

  Cover Art by oliviaprodesign

  We would like to thank:

  Jesus Christ, for without Him we would have neither the talent, desire, unity nor purpose to even begin to write this book.

  Cindy Aznoe, for being the first person to read our book and provide critique and encouragement when we needed it the most.

  Mike Holien, for all of your help and encouragement in putting all of the final pieces of this book together in a way that was so much better than we could have done on our own.

  Our children, for putting up with our endless conversations, weekend writing sessions, and border-line obsession with our made up world. We hope some you will be able to enjoy reading this book and be able to reap a bit of the benefit for which you unwittingly gave.

  Table of Contents

  Pronunciation Guide

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Pronunciation Guide

  For the complete guide with sound clips, visit our website at www.swordflowersaga.com.

  Fleggs

  All vowels are long except when followed by a double consonant.

  All r’s are rolled.

  Male names tend to end in long “o” while female names end in long “a”

  Examples:Palo – PAY loh

  Marrea – mah REE aye

  Jyrye

  y holds the long I sound except when followed by a vowel.

  Ya= yuh

  Ye=yee

  Yo=yoo

  Jy=yi

  i is always short sound.

  Examples:Kintrye – KIN tryee

  Aya – AH yuh

  Jyrye – yi RYEE

  Tynesprys – tie NEHS price

  Auxule

  h always follows a hard consonant and gives a slight breath after it. Always found in the accented syllable.

  ch is never at the beginning of a word and brings the guttural k sound

  x is the guttural k followed by soft s almost z sound

  u consonant e bring an oo sound

  au = ah

  Examples:Khomar – KOH mar

  Auxule – AHK sool

  Days of the Week

  Lumsday

  Skyday

  Lansday

  Hensday

  Finsday

  Mansday

  Elsday

  A blessing on the sons of Kintrye.

  One shall break the chains of oppression,

  And the Dark One’s power will be diminished.

  The enslaved shall give voice,

  And kindle a fire within the one chosen to go.

  Joined with the sword of justice taking up the blade,

  The Spirit of God is upon them,

  With the Words of Truth in their hands.

  The darkness shall come against them as a flood,

  But the power of the Dark One will be shattered.

  And thus the reign of Tynesprys shall end.

  Chapter 1

  Someone had been in the room again.

  Khomar could feel the imprint of their presence in the room, even though it had likely been several hours, and there was still a faint hint of a blossom he could not quite identify. Then there was the fresh oil. He had first noticed it several weeks ago when he had come for his habitual time of prayer in the early morning. The scent of fresh wood oil was unmistakable, and the lush mahogany on the treated carvings stood in stark contrast to the faded reliefs around them.

  Slipping the leather glove off of his right hand, Khomar slid his fingers gently across the most recent work. She, for his unknown visitor was almost certainly a girl, had done a beautiful job in restoring the scene before him. It was an intricate carving of a young woman lying on the ground as an older man threw his cloak over her. His eyes traced back across the images depicting the beginning of the familiar story: the girl clinging to an older woman, following the harvesters gathering stalks of barley, then returning with a bountiful harvest of grain. Khomar smiled. Yes, a girl would certainly choose to restore the story of Rut and Boazye.

  He stepped back and took in more of the chapel. All four walls were covered with similar carvings, each depicting stories from the Book of the Way. Her selections had not always been predictable, but her work stood out vividly. Yesu calling Petrye out onto the water. Davyed playing his lute for the king. Elyas calling down fire from heaven. At the rate she was going it would take years to complete the entire chapel, but every morning he would find another portion completed.

  Who was she? From the time Khomar had begun attending the Elvensty Academy three years ago, the only other person he had seen set foot in the chapel other than himself was his close cousin Kintrye, whose father was the Headmaster of the school. It had originally been founded by Followers of the Way to be an elite boarding school to train men and women with empathic capabilities to combat the Tynesprys, a rogue sect of the Jyrye who had perverted their empathic powers.

  The position of Headmaster had been passed down from father to son for over a hundred years, and with each succeeding generation, the methods of the school had gradually changed. While those who ran the school continued to claim to be Followers of the Way, the chapel, which had once been a focal point of the school, had fallen into disrepair and neglect.

  Khomar discovered the building midway through his first year and had immediately begun the work of dusting and repairing the chapel. Kintrye had helped as his duties had allowed him, but he had been away on various tasks with increasing frequency since completing his schooling and beginning his internship under his father. He had been the only devout Follower of the Way that Khomar had known at the school, and the past year had been a lonely one.

  Until now. If only he could find out who this girl was.

  He figured she was probably one of the second year students. First year students did not have the time during the day nor the permission to leave their dorms in the evening. This girl had started her work at the beginning of the school year about a month ago.

  That did not help him much, however, since men and women were not allowed to attend classes together, and Khomar had very little interaction with any of the female students. The Jyrye were notoriously status oriented, and he was not even a full-blooded Jyrye. His father was one of the towering Auxule from the land of Auxland far to the north. Though his father was a Healer and a nobleman among his people, there were far more promising Jyrye prospects at the school for the women to choose from.

  Would this girl even want to meet him? Judging from her deliberate work on the chapel, the girl was likely to be a Follower of the Way. Perhaps they could at least be friends.

  Khomar sighed and shook his head. Why was he thinking about this? He was supposed to be praying.

  He pulled off his other glove and set it on bench at the front of the c
hapel. He shrugged off the pack he was wearing and, pulling back the flap, produced an old leather tome, his own copy of the Book of the Way that his parents had given him at his coming of age. He carefully opened it to the last page he had read and laid it out flat on the front bench before kneeling down on the floor.

  He could wait for her tonight. He had considered many times about how he might discover the identity of this girl. He had quickly dismissed the idea of watching the chapel to see who entered it. That would be spying, and it just felt wrong. He had thought about asking around, but that might cause questions which could embarrass her.

  That left one option that he had been contemplating for over a week now: he could come to the chapel after dinner and wait until she arrived. It was strongly frowned upon for a young man and woman to spend time alone together when they were unmarried, but this chapel was a holy place. As an Auxlander, the thought of untoward behavior in a holy place was repugnant to Khomar. If he could stay just long enough to determine her identity then, if she was willing, they could talk later in a more public place. It would only take a couple minutes.

  Khomar frowned. He admonished himself again that he was there to pray, but he just could not let the thought go. Father in heaven, please help me, he prayed. You know my heart. You know my thoughts. I want to honor You and follow Your ways. Please guide me on the path You have prepared for me.

  Taking a deep breath, he looked again at the page before him and began to read:

  No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you. Be strong and courageous…[1]

  His eyes focused on the last four words, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He knew that the Book was not talking about a young man getting the courage to greet a young woman; it was a story about a man who was preparing to lead his people into battle. And yet, he could not deny the little surge of encouragement those words brought him.

  Be strong and courageous.

  Yes, he would do it. Tonight he would find out who the girl was.

  Chapter 2

  By the time Khomar emerged from the chapel, the two suns had risen. The air was already warm and damp, promising one last day of oppressive heat before summer would come to an end. The blood-red sun, called Arlye by the Jyrye, was just about to begin the Crossing, the time when the smaller sun would cross in front of the brighter yellow sun, Tranya. By the end of the next week, the entire land would celebrate a new year and winter would begin.

  Thin tendrils of mist still lingered in the air amidst the trees that surrounded the small chapel. Khomar followed the wide trail that cut through the last vestige of the forest that had once covered the island. Surrounded by the Illisyan River, the Elvensty Academy was isolated from the rest of Jyrya not just by topography, but it had also maintained a degree of independence from its earliest days. This had allowed families from all over the kingdom to send their young men and women for training even when conflicts arose between the various tribes. It functioned under the sanction of King Lantaye, but it answered only to its own internal code.

  In this way, the academy was similar to the empaths themselves. They were considered tangential to the hierarchy of Jyrya. The King, appointed for life by the tribal lords, had the authority to maintain order and unity among the tribes while the lords themselves had jurisdiction over their own lands. The skilled tradesmen were next in power followed by the simple laborers and then those who had been sold into slavery. The empaths fell somewhere just beneath the lords in status, wealth and power, not having titles or land. They often worked for the lords or even the king himself using their empathic gift to find people who wished the nobles harm. Unlike the skilled tradesmen, they could freely move from tribe to tribe as the need or desire arose.

  Khomar, being half Auxule, was out of this structure entirely. In fact, he was a man perched between two cultures. He was born in the Terawk Mountains of his grandfather Tyrinian in northern Jyrya, but he spent most of his childhood at his father’s home in the Ghor Mountains of Auxland. Since his coming of age at thirteen, he had spent his winters in Jyrya with his grandfather while returning to Auxland in the warmer summer months. He was not really sure he could call either place home. Elvensty had brought a relative stability to his life, but his time here was approaching an end. He would have to make a decision about his future soon.

  With those thoughts in his mind, he strode across the empty training yard toward the dining hall.

  “Well, it’s about time you showed up,” a familiar voice greeted Khomar as he stepped inside. A Jyrye man straightened from his perch against the wall just inside the door and flashed him a friendly smile. He was nearly six inches shorter than Khomar, though he was somewhat tall for a Jyrye man. His muscular, wiry frame moved with the balance and grace of a fighter and his midnight hair was cropped short like most Jyrye warriors to allow no hold for an opponent. His smooth olive skin was darkened from many hours in the suns and his leather belt held a dagger and a hunting knife.

  “Kintrye!” Khomar exclaimed, his right fist instinctively pounding against his chest as his head bowed slightly in the traditional Jyrye greeting. His cousin responded in kind. “When did you get back?” Khomar asked.

  “Just this morning. I knew you’d be at the chapel, so I figured I would wait for you here. I was starting to wonder if you were going to skip breakfast this morning.”

  The pungent smell of peppers and sausage filled the room, and Khomar’s stomach growled. “Not this morning. I’m famished.”

  He quickly washed his hands in the large basin near the door and then made his way over to the fire pit. The school cook was stirring the traditional mixture of sausage, eggs, and peppers on a wide metal disk built over the flames. Taking a small wooden bowl in his left hand, Khomar selected one of the wooden sticks resting against the wall and examined the morning meal looking for the parts that were more fully cooked. He deftly reached in with the stick and slid some of the contents into his bowl with a quick, smooth motion. Kintrye mimicked the move, and they made their way to a more open area of the room.

  The Jyrye men ate standing, a tradition from the old days when skirmishes were common and the warriors needed to be in constant readiness. The female students, also according to tradition, sat at tables at the far end of the room. Some of the young men stood near their tables talking to the women in whom they had shown interest.

  Khomar and Kintrye silently bowed their heads as they prayed their thanks for the meal. Kintrye was the first to look up and started to quickly scoop the food into his mouth with his right hand. Khomar would never forget when he had first eaten Jyrye food. It was just over twelve years ago when his parents had brought him down to visit his grandfather for the first time since his infancy. It had seemed so odd at first to eat with one’s hand, but a Jyrye warrior was always looking for efficiency, especially an old-school Jyrye like his grandfather Tyrinian. Utensils beyond a hunting knife were an unnecessary distraction. There was less to cleanup or even discard should the need to fight suddenly arise.

  He had met Kintrye for the first time on that visit as well. Kintrye had practically grown up with his grandfather since both of his parents were teachers at Elvensty. Khomar and Kintrye had instantly become friends and had wrestled and fought like brothers on every subsequent visit, but it was the visit after Khomar’s coming of age that captured the attention of his grandfather.

  Kintrye had been taught to wield the sword since he was young and wanting like always to demonstrate his superior skills, he had challenged Khomar to spar with him. This time Khomar actually managed to defeat his cousin despite his rudimentary skill with the blade. After seeing this demonstration of Khomar’s potential, Tyrinian had expressed his desire to train Khomar as a warrior.

  At first, his father Khauxlan had been hesitant to go along with the idea. Despite the fact that Khomar did not have the Healing gift, Khauxlan did not like the thought of a Healer’s so
n learning the art of war. But between Khomar, Grandfather Tyrinian, and Khomar’s mother Tillya, they had finally convinced him to let Khomar stay with his grandfather that winter. By the following spring, Khomar had set his sights on learning all that he could of sword fighting. Kintrye, not liking being bested by his cousin who was a year younger than himself, had also stepped up his training, and so they sharpened each other’s skill as they both grew in the strength and ability.

  As Khomar approached the age of eighteen, his grandfather decided that he should attend the Elvensty Academy. By all rights, he should not have been allowed to attend the school. He had failed every empathic test save one: he could block the readers, even the most powerful of the teaching staff. That combined with his exceptional fighting ability created just enough of a crack that his grandfather was able to use it to pry open the door to the school. It also did not hurt that his grandfather was a revered warrior in the Kingdom of Jyrya who had earned renown in the Great Dormankye War.

  When Khomar finally was able to come to Elvensty, Kintrye insisted that Khomar be allowed to stay in a private cabin with his cousin instead of the men’s dorms. It turned out to be a relief to Kintrye’s father who had been concerned about how Khomar, a non-empathic half Jyrye, would be accepted by the other students. While the first year had been difficult, Khomar’s skill with the blade had quickly earned him the respect if not admiration of most of the other young men in the school.

  “So, how was your trip to the capital?” Khomar asked after he had eaten several bites and staved off the worst of his hunger.

  “Quite educational,” Kintrye said after swallowing. “I’ve never seen so many people who hate each other spend so much time together. It seems that every one of the lords is trying to outmaneuver one another for more power. The fake smiles alone begin to wear on you.”