Tales of Lerathian: The Puppet (Chapter One Excerpt) (Revised 2016)

Going off the heels of releasing the revised prologue for Tales of Lerathian: The Puppet, I decided that I'd release a bit more of the new version of the story. Last time I released all of Chapter One, but this time around it's just going to be a short snippet. Even so, please check out the old so you can tell me what you think of the new!

The force of the thunder blasted through the side of the house. Boards boomed as they cracked and splintered underneath the weight of the destructive storm raging around as if it was a sentient creature devouring all. Windows shattered without hesitation― flying like furious mosquitos as the controlling wind spun the piercing pieces like a tornado into her skin. The roof, well, the roof was long gone. Rain poured unceasing with all the force of a hundred foot waterfall. Hope was nowhere to be found. The house destroyed, all that was left to do was pray and wait for the end to come.

None of it was true. The thunder, though it jolted straight into her chest, did no harm. The walls remained upright while the rattling windows held their own. The roof did leak and bend alarmingly in certain places, but its presence held the majority of the rain at bay. Elle merely couldn’t believe the storm, and pretending things to be far more dramatic than they were kept her mind preoccupied from both her unending boredom and her hatred of the current situation. The storm came from nowhere. Just yesterday she spent most of the day tending to the farm in the refreshing spring air and sun. Clouds cast the world in a haze of gray when she woke up, but none of them signified the fury steadily heading their way. There had barely been time to secure the goats in their hut, desperately cover the plants with tarps, and secure enough buckets to place under the holes in the roof before the onslaught began. Alar and Jân, who had been working on repairing the roof, had ignored the ladder and jumped back to the ground when the light rainfall morphed into bludgeoning arrows in a matter of seconds.

What time was it? Like many things in their house, the lone clock they had, sitting across from the fireplace, was broken. The passing years had not been kind to their tiny cabin, and it only got worse every day. Elle was merely grateful the plumbing in the bathroom still functioned. Where else could she go at this point? The second she opened the door to dump a bucket full of water outside the screaming wind ripped the knob from her hand each time without fail. The threat of the storm proved itself powerful enough that Elle was certain she would be blown up and into the sky if she dared to take a single step past the threshold. The water certainly flew. The wind would carry half of it at least a foot or two before splattering it on the ground, and it would carry the other half right back onto Elle.

Truly, she was beginning to wonder whether it was worth it to bother keeping the buckets from overflowing. Her whole person soaked, she tracked in enough water to make the floor a slippery mess, and then there was the floor itself. The boards at the base of the walls were several shades darker and squished disconcertingly when one poked them. Her father had quite a knack for working with wood, but magic was what gave the severely isolated building longevity. Fifteen years after the loss of Mareiel, the cabin had had enough. Elle put on a brave face to battle the weather once again, and with one massive burst of willpower she successfully tossed the majority of the bucket of water in the proper direction. The door nearly slamming into her face and breaking her nose without warning was the storm’s retaliation.

With a deep sigh, Elle glanced around for another bucket. The best sort of relief struck her when she realized none were full enough for emptying. She didn’t waste a second before running like mad and squatting down as near to the fire as possible. The chill of the water froze her bare fingers like the worst of winter’s ice. The popping flames silent against the constant drumming of thunder and shrieking cracks of lightning thankfully warmed them to the point where the sensation of touch returned. Elle did have a pair of gloves, but with them also getting unendingly soaked it made holding onto the buckets even harder.

A brief and solitary cry of alarm drew her attention towards the kitchen. Both Alar and Jân, who repositioned himself after almost falling, stood on chairs holding thin scraps of wood to the ceiling and giving it their all in repairing the holes from the inside as best as they could. Now having reached the years the Elvanar technically considered one an adult, Jân stood about two inches taller than their father. The impressive and handsome lines on his face had grown far more prominent. However, despite the natural and expected changes that turned his body into one of a man, Jân, in truth, had barely changed at all. Amiable and easygoing by nature, he spent most of his free time, and quite often large chunks of the time he was meant to work, lovingly pestering her and being a steady source of entertainment in the dragging hours. They rarely fought or bickered in any real manner, especially since Jân had long ceased giving her grief about journeying to the hill.

Standing beneath them on the ground with hands outstretched towards the ceiling and slightly glowing with transparent radiance was Nika. Inheriting the same dark gold hair from Mareiel was the lone significant common trait Elle shared with her sister. Nika took much more after their mother. Her long locks spiraled in curls instead of loose waves. The points of her ears were actually pronounced― unlike the small nubs on hers. With clear, fair skin, a smooth scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and top of her cheeks, strong amber eyes, and a face of mature beauty even at a young age, Elle genuinely wondered if even the Elvanar would be able to discern her half Talmor heritage. She silently watched as her sister concentrated on creating a barrier to redirect water from where their father and brother worked. That was another thing Nika had of Mareiel’s: an innate control over her magic, and particularly in regards to barriers and shields.

After a moment of watching, Elle frowned. Exhaustion from what had now been hours of work and the severe discomfort of heavy, drenched clothes had her wondering if any of this was worth it for a different reason. Why were they trying so hard for the house? Elle loved the cabin, there was no question about that, but she loved her family more. They hadn’t fallen apart in the weeks after Mareiel’s death even when fear that the Elvanar would tear through their door at any moment prevented decent sleep and eating. They always found a reason to smile despite being stuck where they were in their isolation as they knew there truly was no way to reach the Mahon lands or the Talmor capital without Mareiel’s magic to keep them hidden. They had survived in this forested home under the safety of the magic Mareiel had left behind to keep them from unfriendly eyes. The barrier that had never fallen…until a week ago.

Years of trusting its seemingly eternal presence shifted into persistent worry of the days to come. The barrier shouldn’t have continued to exist a second after her mother’s passing, so they shouldn’t have been shocked that it did expire. However, naïve complacency was an easy trap in which to fall. The four of them understood incredibly well what its collapse meant, yet here they remained. Oh there were plans to leave, there was no mistake about that. Elle simply couldn’t fathom why no one else save for her seemed interested in putting them into motion in any sort of a timely manner. Her things had been packed that afternoon after the fall. Alar and Jân had halfheartedly put together a few of their things they intended to bring, and Nika stubbornly unpacked without hesitation whatever Elle attempted to gather of her things.

“Would our time not be better spent getting our things ready to leave?” Elle finally proposed the question in her mind aloud.

“It will do us no good to prepare in a house that is under water.” Alar responded, hammering another nail.

“The house is going to be filled with water no matter how many buckets I empty and how many holes you cover. The food we’ve managed to harvest is already spoiling, and this storm is surely destroying what’s left in the field. We’re better off cutting our losses, leaving once the storm is done, and buying what we need instead of scrounging up the meager pickings here. I can’t imagine we have much time left at all.” she instantly rebuked.

“There’s no way they’re able to track us directly,” Jân joined in.

“As far as we know.” she interrupted.

“And simply because the barrier fell doesn’t mean Marmaírein is immediately alerted to our location,” he ignored her, “Lerathian has many places in which to hide. No one is even settled in the stretches of land up north yet above the Falling Mountains.”

“They were able to find mama somehow. They clearly were not on our doorstep when she left otherwise they would have killed us then, but they tracked her down.”

“That is because she was purposely trying to make them follow her. There’s a difference.” Jân half sighed, half grunted as he nearly slipped off the wobbling chair once more.

“I know the situation is unsettling, but we just need a day or two more. I promise we’ll be leaving before you know it.” Alar assured with a kind smile.

“I…”

Elle abandoned her protest before it got further than that. Her words hadn’t swayed them in the previous days. Her fears clearly wouldn’t convince them now either. In the end, what could she do? Leave on her own? It could possibly work if she committed to it. Unfortunately, Elle doubted she could commit. Out of her family, she was the lone one who hadn’t been away from the cabin once. Nika had joined Alar in purchasing supplies from Whitemill on several occasions. Even Elle’s intense curiosity hadn’t been able to convince her to take the same risk.

“That…That bucket is getting close to the top with water, Elle.” Nika alerted her softly, motioning with her shoulder to the guilty object before refocusing her attention on her magic.

Just like that, the matter was gone. Pressing the topic would do nothing other than lead to arguments at a time where tensions already ran high. Elle would simply have to hope that day or two was one day. Her nerves couldn’t take much more. Relieving frustration by groaning ferociously in her head, Elle heaved and ho’d and lifted the weighty bucket. A spare quickly took its place, and her cold hands shook harder at the thought of bracing the storm for however long this dreadful day would last. Without the clock, Elle had no clue whether it was still morning or if afternoon had arrived. Her best guess was it was sometime after lunch. That was what her stomach told her anyway.

Elle gave up on speed. Avoiding getting drenched was not an option. She opened the door first, let the wind bang it into the outside wall for the hundredth time, and took a daring step outside to fling the water as far as her weary muscles would allow. Elle watched proudly as the squall gobbled the flying water like a delicious feast was presented. Everything would have proceeded smoothly from there had Elle not then made a grandiose mistake― she dared to close the door while holding the bucket’s handle in the other. A wrenching heave failed to return the door to its original location. Instead, it slammed wide open with a crack that finally reverberated louder than the lightning, the slick mud underneath her feet mixed with the loss of support slipped her to the ground, and her other arm flailing to catch anything only released her hand’s grip on the handle. The storm wasted no time. The bucket skipped, danced, and frolicked along in the wide far out of sight and, as far as Elle was concerned, out of existence.

Groaning out loud this time, Elle shakily stood while massaging the parts of her that were now sore. The squelching ground nearly caught her again when she battled with the door and wind to close it, but…the door and the wind, their presence became meaningless when strange movement deeper in the woods caught her attention. Water zoomed erratically as it fell, branches bounced and bent like whips, and the trees themselves all swayed in a dangerous dance. Lightning lit up half of the world with blinding columns while engulfing the other half in pure darkness. All that was going on, yet the movement of five others alerted itself to her with unmistakable clarity. Five figures, tall and presumably male, held their own enough against the storm in their approach towards the house. The one in front who held his hood up with one hand noticed her attention, and in the fading glow of another bolt of lightning Elle saw amber eyes.

“Papa!”

The wind could do nothing against her slamming pull that crashed the door close. Elle turned the lock, impressively dragged the nearest couch in front of it within seconds, and barreled towards the rest of her family who now gave her confused looks.

“What is it?” Alar questioned, stepping down off the chair.

“At least I’m going to die knowing I was right!” Elle exclaimed for an explanation, “We don’t have a day or two! There’s at least five Elvanar outside heading for the door right now!”

Nika immediately glanced up to the father in fear as her pale skin turned stark white in terror. A stunned Alar turned his head towards Jân with eyes unblinking, and Jân wasted no time in dashing to the front window to peek out from under the curtain. If anyone was going to tell Elle what she thought she saw was most likely nothing more than the storm playing tricks on her, Jân instantly dropping the curtain back with an expression of nervous determination and running back to them stopped such a comment.

“Run. Just run. Climb out through the kitchen windows.” he commanded admiringly calm given the situation.

Without pause, Elle rushed over to the back wall and climbed on the counter to begin lifting. The poor state of their house unfortunately worked against her. Each window, old and stubborn, stuck firmly in its place and barely jiggled as she desperately went down the line.

“They’re not here to kill me,” Jân continued as she went, “I’m out of practice, but I can fight them long enough to give you a head start. Nika, try a barrier and that hopefully might cloak your presence. I’ll try to catch up if I can, but if not then just keep running.”

“What if they’ve got others hiding in the wood encircling the house? Would it not be better to protect ourselves where we have defenses? If we go out the back, they could strike us before you could so much as turn your head. We’re stronger together.” Alar argued hurriedly.

“And what do you think you can do against them?” Jân questioned accusingly.

“Do not mark me useless simply because I don’t have magic.” Alar huffed back in extreme annoyance.

“It doesn’t matter if we want to leave, we can’t,” Elle interrupted, “These windows won’t budge an inch.”

Nika started to dash over to assist, but a series of booms halted her in her tracks. It wasn’t the drum of thunder. It was the bang of a fist knocking on the door. Alar grabbed Nika’s collar much more roughly than he would typically dare as he began rushing her to Jân’s old bedroom that the two girls now shared. When he motioned for Elle to follow and grabbed her arm to hurry her in as well, Elle swore her father’s grip was that of iron. The sisters almost tripped and fell over one another as they were not so politely shoved through the door before Alar quickly shut it.

“Bunker down in there with them.” Jân’s imposing voice instructed, causing Nika to pause as she went to lock the door.

“I will not hide like a coward while you stand alone to defend us.”

“This is not a moment to be stubborn. You have no fighting skills. Even if you did, against five Elvanar soldiers you could do nothing. You need to be the second line in case they get past me.”

“Alone against them I do have no chance. Fighting with you, I have opportunity and distraction on my side.”

More knocking halted Jân’s rebuttal, and a true chill pierced Elle’s chest when a voice, audible but unintelligible, accompanied it. She snapped the lock closed knowing her father would never be swayed to join them in hiding and hurriedly pulled Nika down with her to take cover between her sister’s bed and the wall. Thinking at first Nika meant to also hide under the bed, Elle stared at the two small wooden swords her sister produced from under the depths of the mattress with both nostalgia and hopelessness. They had not played with these in years, and now, when Alar and Jân eventually failed to prevent their hunters from getting through, they were their single source for protecting themselves. Elle doubted Nika’s barely practiced shields would hold up against trained soldiers, and while Elle technically had magic…well, she technically had magic. Not once had it done her any good.

The two strained to hear anything. Alar and Jân’s voices were now barely distinguishable. The one knocking and calling had been completely silenced by distance and the storm. Elle couldn’t understand why he would bother to knock. Perhaps to give them a chance to give up peacefully? Nothing else made sense. Her breathing ragged and quivering, she cuddled her sister closer in her arms. She strained to listen even as the shaking windows blasted like drums being beaten with rocks deafened her own thoughts. Elle hated every uncertain second that passed. The sooner the sounds of a fight started, the sooner she knew what to expect. The relative calm of the moment given their doomed fate twisted her body with stinging nerves threatening to burst through her skin.

“Should the two of us run? These windows open.” Nika wondered in a quiet voice.

It was an option. Their father and brother would be unlikely to think they would dare to run on their own, meaning their defense of the room would be genuine. The unintentional act would give the sisters ample time for a head start barring there were no more soldiers waiting outside for anyone who attempted to escape. Nika’s thinking clearly mirrored her own as she wiggled out of her grasp to crawl to the two windows on the two walls. Given the motion Elle was then signaled from her, there were at least no soldiers in sight from where they were.

However, running appeared to carry as much risk as waiting and hoping. Jân was their best bet at escaping the notice of the Elvanar patrolling the Mahon and Talmor lands. Getting away in this moment might be doable, but the chance of two of them finding safety on their own was extremely low. Just as low as Alar and Jan winning the fight. They fight that had still not started, apparently. The seconds dragged on painfully slow, but far too much time had passed with nothing happening. The Elvanar hadn’t broken through the door, none of them had attempted getting inside through alternate means, and Alar and Jân hadn’t taken the initiative to steal the offensive.

Nika quietly crawled back towards her as Elle moved without breathing to press her ear against the door. Alar and Jân had moved farther away. They spoke, but not loud enough for her to hear and not to each other. No, a conversation happened with the Elvanar. Jân was having a heated word with whoever stood on the other side of the door, and his harsh tone somehow didn’t offend the soldier or entice him to act. Wondering more deeply than ever what was going on, Elle peered through the keyhole.

“What’s going on?” Nika whispered in her ear.

The question came right as Elle saw the most ludicrous thing. Jân moved the couch out of the way, he opened the front door, an Elvanar began walking inside, and Alar let it all occur. Elle pulled her sister back once more with a horrified gasp.

“Jân just opened the door. He’s letting them inside, and papa’s not doing anything about it either!” Elle responded in hushed alarm.

“Why? Did the Elvanar charm them? I thought only Dowarks could control people like that.” Nika asked in fear.

“I don’t know. That’s what I thought too though.”

The room fell into silence. What else could be said? What else could be done but to wait? The two now hid in the space between their beds as they waited, waited, and waited. Minutes surely passed. Every so often Elle and Nika could briefly hear Jân’s voice as he would grow more loudly irate for a moment, but he would quiet down soon enough. The storm forgotten, neither girl paid attention to the several trickles of rain dripping from the ceiling, the chaotic shaking of the windows, or the freezing cold leaking in from the outside. Their fate was most likely being debated on the other side of the wall. Each breath could be their last.

The lack of action infuriated her. If she was going to die, the Elvanar needed to go on and do it. Elle had long made peace with the idea of her death. In some ways, she pondered if reuniting with her mother in the Beyond wouldn’t be better than the suffocating isolation that was her life now. It was true that no one knew exactly what was Beyond, but it definitely couldn’t be any worse than being alive. Alar and Mareiel had always told her Delmar was a kind god.