The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Book Two:

The Gatekeeper





Chapter One





Silas Ainsley was no stranger to death, but that didn’t mean they were friends. Even in this afterlife, death seemed to pursue him with vehemence.

The arrow flew at a blinding speed, finally embedding itself into the tree only inches from his head, as he dropped to the ground for safety. Whoever shot it had not intended to miss.

The trees surrounding him in the wooded terrain provided sufficient cover, but he would not be able to stay there for long. He glanced to the sky, noting that the light was fading, giving him maybe an hour before darkness stole the sky completely. He had been trying to track Kaden and Inga for a while now as part of his training. The three of them had gone into the woods just outside the city of Jekyll Rock during the early afternoon. They were teaching him to use magic. He had no sword, no bow and arrows. He also had not been allowed to carry the mystical staff of Uriah he obtained just over three months before. He had only been allowed to use the power of his mind; the magical power that flowed through his veins: the power of the Meshulan.

He knew the arrow that had missed him by inches was not from Kaden or Inga. They never fired at him, but only shouted, letting Silas know that he had left himself vulnerable and it was time to try again. Also, Inga never carried a weapon. Her magical powers were stronger and more effective than any sword or arrow could ever be. No. This was someone else. Someone who wanted Silas dead.

He knew he couldn’t stay on the ground. The would-be assassin saw him drop for cover, and would have obviously seen the arrow miss. Silas strained to hear any sort of sound; leaves rustling or twigs breaking under the pursuant foot of the assassin, but he heard nothing. Perhaps the attacker was watching for Silas to peek his head from behind the bushes, an arrow fixed in front of a trained eye that would not miss a second time. He had the gut-wrenching feeling that the assassin was on the move. He didn’t hear it. He didn’t see it. He could feel it.

Taking short, shallow breaths he dug his elbows into the dirt beneath him, pulling himself forward as quickly as possible. He knew he could not escape the shooter this way, but perhaps he could crawl to another point in the woods before he began to run. If his attacker was expecting him to stay still, this could heighten his chance of being missed by a second arrow. He wished that he had gotten a good look at whoever was after him. A brief glimpse was all he managed before taking to the ground; and all he had seen was a dark figure, possibly wearing a mask, but he wasn’t sure.

After a few more seconds of inching his way on the ground by his elbows and knees, he knew he could not keep moving in such a way. If the assassin caught up to him, Silas would be dead in a moment. He stood to a low crouch, in the hopes that the trees safely hid him from his follower. The assassin could be flanking Silas from either direction. With this in mind, Silas took off in a sprint, praying another arrow didn’t follow. As fast as his legs would allow, he ran in a zigzag pattern, jumping over fallen branches through the thick of the woods. The enemy would have a difficult time aiming directly at Silas with the sun going down, and tracking him would become more difficult. He didn’t doubt the assassin’s ability to find him in the dark, however.

He thought about Kaden and Inga. They would eventually start looking for him and shouting out his name to let him know that they were finished for the day. The pursuer would obviously hear them and perhaps kill them as well. Both of them were highly trained and competent individuals, but an unexpected arrow could kill even the greatest of warriors.

Silas had been on their trail for the last thirty minutes and was very close to tracking them down before the assassin had taken his shot. He wished more than ever that he had his staff. The staff of Uriah was a tremendous weapon that turned into anything the bearer needed in a moment of trouble. Silas almost never let the weapon out of his sight since he had used it to kill the Stühoc leader Maroke, but it now inconveniently rested in a strap across Kaden’s back.

After several long minutes of running as fast as he could, he stopped to listen, which proved difficult with his labored breathing. Apart from his own tired body, all he could hear was the summer wind blowing through the leaves above him, masking any sort of movement that could give him an indication of where his attacker might be. It didn’t matter. Silas knew he had not run far enough, and running was not necessarily the answer. It would only be a matter of time before the assassin tracked him down, and Jekyll Rock was in the opposite direction of where Silas now headed.

As his breathing calmed, he rested his body against a tree. Running away might have given him temporary respite, but he knew something else needed to be done. He searched the forest ground for something that might help him: a rock, a solid stick, anything. A few feet away he spotted a fallen tree branch and hurried to it. He grabbed one end and yanked up while he kicked at the middle with is foot. A loud crack echoed through the trees as the branch split in two. Silas winced and glanced up, fearing he had just given away his position. He hoped the branch’s usefulness would outweigh the risk. The split end seemed sharp enough to stab, but it was more about the comfort of holding something in his hands to make him feel less vulnerable. The stick would be no match against a trained fighter, but it was something tangible unlike the magic he had not even come close to mastering.

He leaned against the tree again and took a deep breath. Magic. He had been learning it at a rapid pace for the past three months, but that didn’t mean he was any good at it. Every time he used it, he felt drained and exhausted. Inga was a good teacher, but her abilities far surpassed Silas, which left him feeling like he could never be as skilled. He needed the magic to flow through him now more than ever. He had learned mostly defensive magic; they had spent little time on attacking. But perhaps that would help him here.

He tried to calm his mind, letting the magic of Marenon flow through him like a stream. He could feel it in his chest, his arms. He was going to use what he was best at. Defense. The shield he had been taught to use was effective, but the amount of time he could keep the green bubble of light around his body amounted to very little. His greatest strength was his ability to fight with a weapon, however, and he still felt most comfortable with a sword. But the branch would have to do. He would attack first and defend second.

He waited for several moments, listening more intently for any sign of the assassin. Above the whisper of the wind-rustled leaves in the treetops, he heard the sound of footsteps coming closer. The steps were slow and light, revealing that the walker was being cautious, anticipating his prey to be very near. Silas had not had the chance to cover his tracks and he had been easily followed. He hoped that the stick in his hands would prove effective. There would be only one chance to take out his pursuer.

The sounds of each step became louder as his tracker came closer to Silas’ exact location. This was it. With his back against the tree, Silas took in a deep breath and gripped the stick tightly like a spear. He waited until he was sure the assassin was only a few feet away. He closed his eyes one more time, gathering the strength within him to show no mercy, and to strike for the kill. With a scream like a wild man, Silas spun around with the sharp end of the wood, aiming for the assassin’s head. As he stabbed, the assassin swung his sword around and cut the stick in half, falling to the ground in the process. Silas stood unmoving when he saw the man flailing on the ground letting out swears and grunts. This was no assassin.

“Kaden?” Silas said, confused.

Kaden slapped his hand on the dirt, a look of anger on his face. “This is about magic, Silas! You aren’t supposed to attack with a weapon.”

Silas was unsure of what to say at first. Had Kaden been the one to fire the arrow at him? “I thought you were someone else,” he said.

Kaden pulled himself up from the ground and brushed off the leaves that clung to his hunting cloak and thick, brown and gray beard. “Who else would I be Silas? It was either me or Inga.”

“Did you fire an arrow at me earlier?”

“When?”

“Just a minute ago.”

Kaden shook his head. “Inga wouldn’t have either.”

“Exactly my point. Someone else is in these woods! Come on!”

Kaden heeded Silas’ words and followed him to cover behind a set of trees. They lowered themselves to the ground, searching for any sign that someone else might be near.

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“No,” Silas said. “He was wearing dark clothes, maybe a mask. I couldn’t tell. I felt the arrow go by and I took off.”

Kaden nodded, his eyes darting in every direction around the tree. He quickly unstrapped the staff of Uriah from his back and handed it to Silas. Once Silas’ hands wrapped round the staff, it instantly turned into a bow and arrow. They both glanced down at the weapon then to each other.

“That must mean he’s within range,” Silas whispered.

Kaden acknowledged this by resting his sword upright against the tree and pulling his own bow and arrow from his back.

“I’m jealous of your weapon, Silas Ainsley,” Kaden said as he readied the arrow.

Kaden had a right to be jealous. The staff of Uriah had been extremely useful to Silas and he had grown to depend on it. In their training, Silas had seen the staff turn into many weapons including a sword, bow and arrow, mace and a spear. It had even turned into a shield on one occasion. However, only Silas was able to wield the staff effectively. No other Human was able to use it. The magic of the staff only worked for someone who was born in Marenon, and since Silas was the only Human to fit that requirement, he was the only one with the ability to use the staff.

There was such a mystery surrounding the reason Humans were in Marenon. Nobody understood why, but some Humans who died on Earth, were sent to Marenon to live. But there were limits to the life they could have. No Human could reproduce in Marenon. No Human had ever been born here. None, that is, until Silas. His father had been Human and his mother, Erellen. The Erellens were the fair-skinned race of beings, who resided in the northeast region of Marenon. But surely his parents had not been the only Human and Erellen couple to have existed. Silas was the fulfillment of a prophecy that the first Human to be born in Marenon would be the Meshulan, the Erellen word for deliverer.

Initially, there was some speculation as to whom Silas would be delivering, for the prophecy awkwardly left out this piece of information. However, with Silas’ defeat over the Stühoc lord, Maroke, he had made his decision. His purpose was to deliver all of Marenon from the oppressive Stühocs. That was the reason Kaden had been training Silas so intensively, and why Silas’ responsibility was so much greater than it had ever before. That was probably why someone was sent to kill him.

Silas held the bow and arrow ready in his arms, searching carefully for the assassin. The staff did not direct Silas to where the danger lurked; it only equipped him with the proper tool. Sometimes Silas felt like the staff was training him, as Julian Hobbes had told him before they had entered Mudavé. He knew the staff would begin to give him more control as he became more proficient. He had not yet mastered what weapon would be best for every situation, and it had not yet let him choose. At times this was frustrating, but it kept him out of his comfort zone, which Kaden said was a good thing. It also made his training more effective. The staff’s unwillingness to allow Silas to choose his weapon was invaluable now because it let him know that the assassin was in range to be shot with an arrow, but not close enough to be fought with a sword.

“Sometimes I wish this thing would aim and shoot for me,” Silas whispered. “Why isn’t Inga with you?”

“We split up,” Kaden answered. “She thought you might try to follow us through to the western trail.” He scanned his surroundings. “She wasn’t too far off.”

Silas held firm to his weapon, wishing he could see his attacker. Looking through the slim openings of all the trees produced no sort of help, but that’s when he heard the sound. It was as subtle as the wind, but the wind did not blow in that particular moment which is probably why he was able to hear the noise. Behind him he could hear the tension of a bowstring being pulled back slowly. His head jerked around to look behind him, causing him to see the dark figure crouching only twenty yards away, his eyes aiming through the thin, black mask. Silas managed to yell out for Kaden to take cover as he too leapt to the side. The arrow soared near him, missing Silas by inches. How did he get behind us?

Kaden jumped in the opposite direction of Silas, creating two targets, so the assassin ran forward to the nearest tree. While the attacker had his defenses down, Kaden let an arrow fly. Silas too pulled back on his string and sent an arrow sailing into the tree. An arrow instantly appeared in Silas’ hands after he shot his first. He wasn’t sure how the assassin got behind them, but he was at least happy to have him pinned down.

Kaden and Silas both stood in position, arrows pulled back, trained on the tree the assassin used for cover. If he so much as flinched, he would be a dead man. The assassin had almost won, but he stood no chance now. They moved in slowly, creeping their way to flank the stranded warrior. When the masked man was nearly in view, a sudden white light burst from where he stood, blinding both Kaden and Silas, sending their arrows flying in random directions. Without the ability to see, Silas could hear the loud grunt of the assassin as he ran toward them. He felt the bow and arrow turn instantly into a shield, so he instinctively held it up. He knew his instincts were correct because he felt a sharp pain in his arm as the attacker crashed into his shield. Silas stumbled backward, just as he began to regain his sight. Again the masked man swung his large sword at Silas and it landed square in the middle of the shield, this time throwing Silas off his feet. The shield tumbled from Silas’ grasp, turning back into a useless staff instantaneously. He was defenseless.

The assassin was a terrifying sight. The man wasn’t very tall, but his muscles bulged through the gaps in his metal armor. The dark mask he wore only showed his bloodthirsty eyes. His movements were quick and relentless.

The man rushed forward, his sword held high, howling with determination. Silas had no time to reach for the staff and he lay frozen in place. He closed his eyes, willing the magic to flow through him, now begging it to finally work. The assassin swung his sword with all his might at Silas’ head, but a sudden burst of green light appeared around Silas’ body deflecting the blow, sending the assassin’s sword sailing to the side. The magic had worked. With the assassin disarmed, Silas now stood a chance, but something wasn’t right. The green shield was still around him, but Silas had never been able to use the magic for longer than a fleeting moment. Normally he could only make it stay around his body for a second or two, but time was beginning to pass and he didn’t even feel an effect. His confidence began to soar. He felt like a Sorcerer.

The assassin reached for his sword and turned to attack Silas again, but he stopped, when something beyond Silas caught his attention. Then without warning a flash of blue lighting crashed into the enemy, throwing him to the ground. Inga stood behind Silas, all her attention focused on the assassin.

In that same moment, Kaden came running to Silas’ side, sword in hand. Everything had happened so fast, but they finally had him.

“Good thing you aren’t any good at covering your tracks, Silas, or I might not have been here to save your hide,” Inga said coolly.

Silas then realized that the green magic shield was not that of his own doing, but hers. She glanced at Silas with a grin on her face. He looked down at the ground, embarrassed, not wanting to face her flashing green eyes. He should have learned the magic by now.

“Thanks,” Silas said awkwardly.

He walked over to his staff to pick it up, and it turned into a dagger in his hands. Kaden held his sword ready as he watched for the assassin to make a move. Inga stood ready to blast him with some sort of spell. Silas stepped forward, wanting answers.

The man held his head with one hand while his other lay on the ground empty. He had been defeated. Silas wondered if the staff wanted him to slice the man’s throat since it had turned into a simple dagger. The man on the ground didn’t seem to be a threat any longer.

“Be careful, Silas,” Kaden warned.

Silas stood over the dazed attacker.

“Who are you?” Silas demanded.

The masked man glanced up at Silas and began to laugh an eerie spiteful laugh that made Silas cringe. Who was this guy? Three people surrounded him, ready to kill, and he was laughing.

“Stop it!” Silas yelled.

The laughing became harder and shriller. Kaden and Inga exchanged glances. Silas dared to move closer, ready to shut the man up for good when from out of nowhere, he heard a deafening explosion behind them. The blast shook them as all three ducked to the ground, looking back to see a tree completely consumed by fire.

Silas looked back to the assassin, but he had vanished.

“He’s gone!” Silas shouted. He began to frantically search in every direction as he felt the dagger in his hands change into a bow once again. If the staff changed, that meant there was still a chance of danger.

“Can you see him?” Inga asked.

“There!” Silas shouted when he spotted the man in the distance.

Maybe fifty yards away, the assassin stood, staring at them, probably mocking them in his mind. Silas took no time to ponder why the assassin stopped or why he had tried to kill Silas at all. He simply pulled back the arrow in his bowstring, took aim, and fired.

His arrow quickly found its target and sliced through the assassin’s left arm and out the back. The man let out a terrible scream. In his anger and fury, he sent another commotion of random explosions throughout the woods, and the others took cover. Inga set up another shield around each of them in case one should happen to land near, but it didn’t keep Silas from feeling the heat of each blast. The smoked thrust its way into his nostrils, causing his nose and throat to burn. Each explosion pounded his ears like fireworks going off next to him. The green shield kept any of them from dying, or getting injured severely, but Silas wasn’t sure the explosions were meant for harm, but only as a diversion for the assassin’s escape. When the smoke finally cleared, there was no sign of the enemy. Inga dropped her shield from around them, and Silas cursed loudly, slapping the wooden staff against the ground.

“We almost had him!” he yelled. “How did we let him get away so easily? What was that?”

“Simple magic,” Inga said. “I should have been ready to stop it.”

Kaden stroked his beard looking off into the direction of where the assassin had run. “This isn’t good, Silas,” he said.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it was,” he answered, pulling himself off the ground.

As they walked cautiously through the woods back to Jekyll Rock, Kaden decided it would be best to tell the rest of the Dunarian Council about what had happened that evening. He felt the council might hinder what Silas had to do next, but it was important that they know about the attack.

Silas had grown tired of reporting to the council. They had insisted that they know everything about his day-to-day training and progress. He wished his grandfather was still alive and on the council.

Garland Ainsley. In his last breaths, Silas’ grandfather told him that he needed to find the Gatekeeper of Marenon for his next phase in The Reckoning. Silas knew The Reckoning was a complicated operation formed by Garland and the Dunarian Council to help find Humanity’s purpose in Marenon. Humans had been coming through for thousands of years, and only a handful at a time, and no person in the land knew why except for this mysterious Gatekeeper.

The next move for Silas and Kaden had nothing to do with training. Ready or not, it was time for Silas to move forward with his responsibilities. Traveling would be dangerous. The assassin had only been injured, not killed. Silas had hoped for a better shot that would have at least left the man immobilized, but he feared the injury only added fuel to the assassin’s fury.

Finding the Gatekeeper would be difficult enough. Finding the Gatekeeper with an assassin on his trail would make it impossible.