Awakened

  Awakened

  Jewel of Ages Book One

  K.N. Lee

  Captive Quill Press

  Copyright © 2018 by K.N. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my fairy-godmother

  Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.

  Emily Dickenson

  Contents

  World of Titania

  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

  An Exclusive Excerpt from Waking the Dark

  An Excerpt From Throne of Deceit

  A Look at Fallen Empire

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by K.N. Lee

  World of Titania

  Giran Empire

  Human Territory

  Hempstead

  Evyn’s Gate

  Kura

  Perth (Capital City)

  Larkath

  Myristown

  Arundell

  Human Territory

  Cape Run

  Tide Lands

  Dyon

  Jin-Ah

  The Vale

  Elf territory

  Saldoria

  Athenia

  Halsford

  Brittonia

  Obscura

  Dark fairy territory

  Darth

  Mirrow

  Ines

  Port Midnight

  Solaris

  Ashen wasteland. Former land of the light fairies

  Prologue

  A bone-chilling howl erupted from the outside.

  High Cleric, Laurel clasped her hands over her mouth as she gazed out the tower window into what was once a pristine paradise with white shores and blue skies.

  Lion’s Keep faced the village of Cape Glenaran, which looked out to the sea. As her heart thumped in her chest, she beheld a dark cloud that stretched across the sky—a cloud that black, winged creatures darted from.

  With fire erupting from their throats, and eyes as red as rubies, the screams of the villagers filled the foggy dawn.

  Necro was coming, and bringing all manner of terror with him.

  “What do we do?” Captain Silas asked, his gaze following hers. “This is something my men cannot battle. This is evil.”

  As a warrior, he knew only the art of battle and weapons. He knew how to kill a man with sharp objects and brute force. But, this darkness immortal, and would not bow to acts of mortal warfare. This creature would slaughter them all, if she didn’t act.

  She shook her head, and turned to him. “No,” she said, under her breath. Her brows knitted together. “This is something ancient—something feral.

  “Magic?”

  Nodding, a shiver ran up her spine as she realized what she’d have to do.

  “Yes,” she said. “And, this is what I’ve prepared for my entire life. We can fight magic with our own. Hurry, summon the clerics into the temple, and send word to The Vale that they must gather their armies. Master Alistair will know what to do.”

  “It shall be done,” he said.

  As Silas raced to execute her command, Laurel put on a brave face, hoping to rally the others into something they’d never anticipated. Necro was roaming free, sucking the life out of everything in his wake, and they would stand against him.

  Even if it meant this would be their last day in the land of the living.

  1

  The soft splatter of cool rain dripped onto Wren’s hood.

  She sat in the tree, waiting, listening. It was just before sunset when the horns would blow and the villagers would be called back to town before curfew. Nightfall meant danger for anyone who dared to linger outside of the gates of The Vale.

  It was up to Wren and the other Dragon Elite to keep them safe—to protect them from the beasts who prowled at night.

  She’d taken this mission from the King of Saldoria—a king who balked at being sent the ‘little fairy’ instead of one of the elven males from the Elite.

  Arrogant bastard.

  She glanced at the darkening sky, and the gray clouds that rolled across at a leisurely pace. From the sweet smell of the air, she could tell that a storm was coming. She loved a good storm. Perhaps the weather would keep the creatures who haunted most children’s nightmares away.

  When the loud horns began to blow, she settled in on her belly, hiding within the leaves of a tall tree. The black bark and dark, evergreen leaves were perfect for such a disguise. Her purple hair was hidden beneath her hood, and her olive skin helped her camouflage herself along with the branches and foliage.

  She pressed her ear to the branch, listening to the wood nymphs humming. It was a hypnotizing melody that almost lulled her to sleep.

  Peeking down at the villagers as they left the fields and lakes from a busy day gathering food and supplies, she spotted North. He walked behind his two younger brothers, ushering them on as they begged to stay out and play just a bit longer.

  With a crooked smile on his face, and long chestnut hair falling into his eyes, he was one of her oldest friends from the Titan Academy for Mages.

  She was coming of age to leave the Academy and pursue a life of her own. It was either that, or continue her studies to rise up the ranks of mages, and perhaps ascend to greater things.

  She’d chosen her path, and the Dragon Elite was where her heart belonged.

  The silence that followed the procession of the villagers away from the forest was unsettling. She tried to focus on the hum of the nymph-folk and the soft drip of rain. Before long, thunder began to vibrate across the sky and strike lightning with a loud crackle that perked her up. She pushed herself to her bottom and wrapped her toned arms around her slim frame. The wind picked up and her soaked cloak and tunic began to cling to her in the most uncomfortable fashion.

  It was then that she noticed something out of the ordinary—something…odd.

  Two pairs of glowing red eyes emerged in the looming darkness as the sun set. She held her breath, tensing her neck as she watched a two-headed basilisk creep through the forest in search for food. The snake-like heads sniffed and searched the thick underbrush of the forest floor and let out a shrill sound unlike anything Wren had ever heard.

  Lips parted, she watched in awe as they seemed to communicate with one another in a series of shrieks and grunts that reminded her of a pig. Swallowing, she reminded herself of why she was there in the first place.

  She carefully pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back, not blinking and barely breathing. As the storm raged on, she nocked the arrow and pulled the string back as far as it would go.

  Rain fell into her eyes, clouding her vision. She blinked them away and clenched her jaw. Perhaps it was a bad day for a hunt, but she had no choice. She’d taken this mission, and would execute it.

  She sucked in a long breath of the cool air, and said a mental prayer, asking her wisp guides for clarity.

  Releasing the breath, she also let go of the arrow and watched it soa
r through the night and into the chest of the deformed basilisk.

  The roar that resulted made her jump, almost falling from the tree. She held steady, shivering as the massive creature ran. Her arrow protruded from its body.

  “Fiddlesticks,” she growled, and with a leap from the tree, she descended down to the forest floor, landing with barely more than a soft squish in the mud.

  The basilisk ran, and she chased it, nocking arrows and shooting as fast as her skilled fingers could go.

  The hide was tough, and as she ran behind the frantic creature, it took two more arrows into the back of the beast’s heads to send it crashing down to its death. The thud made the entire surrounding area vibrate, and sent dirt flying through the air.

  Skidding to a stop, she breathed heavily, lifting her hood and exposing herself to the onslaught of rain. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she knelt and felt the beast for any signs of life. Closing her eyes, she thanked the Mother for her blessing. Then, she removed her dagger and cut out the beast’s heart.

  As she did so, her body trembled at feeling the spirit leave the the beast. For a moment, she was overcome with sadness for the poor creature. Her hand glowed a faint orange, and she placed it onto the belly of the beast, and closed her eyes.

  “On to the Mother,” she said. “May your journey be peaceful.”

  It was the only way she could do this job—to come to terms with bringing death to any living creature.

  She was a fairy, through and through, even if she only had scars where her wings had once been—even if she was one of the last of her kind.

  2

  Wren strode through the massive wooden doors of Saldoria Castle, a cold, dripping basilisk heart in her fist.

  Dressed in their lavish gowns, and sparkling jewels, the posh elves of the Saldorian court gasped in horror as blood splattered onto the polished marble floors. Wren sauntered her way toward King Glen.

  With a grin on her face, she tossed the heart onto the floor, at his slippered feet, and lifted her triumphant gaze to his bright, yellow eyes.

  Then, she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head as her hood fell back and released a cascade of lush, purple with traces of silvery-white hair.

  “As requested, my king,” she said, feigning a deep bow. “The pesky basilisk who has been hunting your villagers. I tracked him down and brought you his heart.”

  Silence filled the room, and Wren eyed every elf who stared at her in disbelief.

  The crimson shade that filled the king’s cheeks struck her blood cold. Her smile faded and her hands dropped to her sides. She began to reconsider her entrance. She knew it was against decorum, but the king had doubted she could execute the task. While the other Elite were off on greater missions, she was left with the scraps, with picking off minor nuisances.

  Instead of addressing her himself, he whispered something to High Cleric, Zella.

  Zella walked to her, all airs and grace, her long velvet gown of indigo and gold glittering in the light of the chandeliers. Wren tensed, her stomach clutched tight, and lifted her eyes to hers, hoping for mercy.

  She offered a tight smile, and gazed down at the blood trailing into the throne room, and back to Wren. Wren could tell that her former teacher was disappointed in her theatrics.

  “Thank you, Wren, dear,” Zella said. “You may return to the Academy.”

  “But,” Wren began, and was cut off.

  “Go home,” Zella said, with such finality, that Wren had no choice but to turn and head back outside.

  As she left the castle, everyone watched her go, and then returned to their gossiping.

  Sighing, she stood outside in the rain, just before the doors.

  Blood was rinsed from her hands by the cold droplets, dripping onto the stone steps like red wine spilled onto a white tablecloth. It was washed away, pooling into puddles before trickling down in small rivers.

  She’d done little more than make a fool of herself in front of the Saldorian court. While she’d tried to prove her worth and capability to those who looked down on her, they’d more than likely lost more respect for her due to her rugged sensibility.

  She glanced back at the two guards who stood on either side of the door and shrugged.

  “That didn’t go according to plan, did it?”

  Neither replied, simply ignoring her as she turned away and pulled a small orb from her pocket.

  The orb glowed a dim blue as she rubbed her thumb across the slick, shining scales.

  She brought her lips close to it and whispered.

  “Awaken.”

  She held out her hand with the orb within it and a bright light came crashing through the scales like the sunlight through broken glass. Gold and yellow nearly blinded her and the guards who stepped back.

  A smile stretched across her face as the orb lifted from her hand and hovered in the air. Her hair blew around her face as wind rushed toward her.

  With a pop, the scales separated like chainmail, and light bathed their faces in heat.

  A sleek, black dragon appeared before her, its wings outstretched, shielding her from the rain, and bowed at her feet. Two, large silver eyes glowed in the dark and closed in reverence to its master.

  She stroked its smooth head, and hopped onto the saddle on its back.

  “Where shall we go?” the dragon asked through their telepathic connection.

  “Home, Luna,” she said, and Luna lifted off the ground and took them up into the night sky.

  3

  Wren returned to the Titan Academy for Mages just before the gates were closed and locked to guests.

  Luna flew over to the gardens, open fields, a sparkling lake, and above a long white path made of stone until they reached the maze of ivy-wrapped walls.

  On the top of a steep hill stood the massive structure that had once been a temple for the gods, and now served as classrooms and housing for the last mortals born with magical abilities.

  After Luna landed, Wren rested her head against hers. For a moment, their heartbeats synced and they breathed in unison. They were one, and it was the most loved Wren had ever felt.

  With several towers and an open-air terrarium in the center, it was bigger than a palace, and the tallest building in the realm.

  For most, it was a seasonal boarding school, but for Wren, it was home.

  It had always been home.

  Luna’s eyes glowed as Wren pulled back and held out her hand. She gave Luna one last smile and said the words that would send the dragon to her home inside the orb.

  “Slumber.”

  Within a second, Luna was sucked away into the orb that wrapped around her, and fused the dragon scales into a smooth egg-shaped crystal.

  She sighed, missing her dragon already. It was time to go inside and face the consequences for what she’d done.

  As she turned to head inside, she hoped that Zella hadn’t returned from her trip to the castle before her. All she wanted to do was retreat to her private quarters, bathe, and sleep as late as possible.

  When she entered the Academy’s main entrance, heads turned at seeing her.

  Many of the students, clerics, and servants were still wide awake and preparing to retreat for the evening.

  To her dismay, the doors burst open from behind her. She turned and beheld as a red wolf stood inside the entryway.

  Her face drained of color and she prepared herself for what was to come.

  The red wolf shifted, and morphed into that of a beautiful elf with long crimson hair and blue eyes.

  Those eyes met Wren’s and sent fear into her heart.

  Zella was more than her teacher, trainer, and guardian.

  She was a mother to her—the only one she’d ever known.

  Zella spoke through clenched teeth. “Wrenessa Grey, what were you thinking?”

  Groaning, Wren turned and headed for the double stairs that led up to the floors where the students slept. She resided on the top floor, with the other Dragon Elite, where
they could take flight from the roof at a moment’s notice.

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” Wren said. “I simply executed my mission as commissioned.”

  “And, disrespected the king while you were at it.”

  “Hardly,” Wren shot back. “Had he never seen a deformed fairy before?”

  Zella took her by the shoulder, and spun her around. “One more retort and I’ll have you locked away in the tower with Anista Crow.”

  Her face blanched, a gasp bubbling from her throat. Anista Crow was a mage who had been driven to madness by her own power.

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Zelle pointed a finger at her face. “I would,” she said. “If you drove me to it. You know better than such shows of rebellion. You know better than to enter unannounced, armed, and without proper introductions.”

  Wren crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “I didn’t think it was that serious.”

  She took Wren by the arms, her face softening. Uncrossing her arms, she lowered her voice into a more pleasant tone. “Wren, my dear. We both know you’re brighter than that. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

  “What?” Wren asked, brows lifted. “Try to show them I’m more than a witless, useless girl? I don’t see Flint or Bohdi getting chided when they return from their missions. I know its because I’m the only female in the Elite. I know its because I’m a wingless fairy.”