When Legends Arise

Copyright 2016 by Kyra Mae

Cover design by Dane Low at Ebook Launch

Glyphs and Profile Photo by Lindy Belley

All rights reserved. Published by Kyra Mae and distributed by Smashwords.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Map

Introduction

Prologue

Part 1

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Janet JJ Tenarro

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Russet Dovel

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Part 2

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Russet Dovel

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Janet JJ Tenarro

Kadir

Dictator Olc

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Russet Dovel

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Russet Dovel

Monica

Dictator Olc

Thorne

Azalea

Russet Dovel

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Part 3

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Russet Dovel

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Dictator Olc

Janet JJ Tenarro

Epilogue

Character Glossary

Term Glossary

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Introduction

To those reading the story of a boy from the world of Parallel, be warned. This world may or may not be familiar. Some will see the parallels for which they are named, others will search for answers, yet more will blissfully read the story before them. Though we all know this world and its inhabitants are not real, they reflect what has happened, is happening, and will happen on Earth.

These events reflect battles, lives, and actions of the past, present, and future. This likeness is not perfect, as that would be impossible, but can be thought of as a rippled and slightly murky reflection of actual and prophesied events. Time and distance hold the same titles but different meanings. Technology develops at a different rate and a different ratio. So as you enter Parallel, brace yourself for what you may not see, for what you may not know, for what you may not have experienced.

Kyra Mae

Author

Prologue

King Glóir

At one point in time, the world was beautiful. Domhan and Saol lived in harmony. Though the continents were separated by a river and held together by massive bridges, the landscapes flowed into each other seamlessly. Glistening snow topped the mountain ranges, and grass plains rolled for miles as far as the eye could see. Forests and jungles housed the wildlife that would not be tamed. Rivers and streams overflowed with fish. Both continents were prospering.

The humans of Domhan preferred the farmer’s life, as it was the most profitable job of the era. Small towns and villages budded like flowers every hundred miles, merging into their environment. Between these small communities, farmers grew crops in the plains, foraged in the woods, raised cattle on the moors, and hunted when a celebration was called for. Those who did not wish to farm found great joy in trading and traveling.

Frequently these travelers would trade with the Striders of Saol, bringing the harvest of the neighboring country back to be enjoyed. Striders, meaning protectors in the old language, were revered by the humans for the amazing gifts they possessed. From controlling heat and cold to changing the elements and the weather, these people should have been feared. Instead, the risk of danger from their powerful abilities wasn’t considered because of their internal drive to protect and their loyalty to their king.

But the peace and serenity were not to last. Those times were considered the calm before the storm for centuries afterward. Then they were forgotten completely by the humans. How could they remember, after what they went through?

The storm started when a fine-looking Bright Strider of great power decided that he should have the crown. It started with rumbles and rumors, but slowly, discontentment grew among the race. As this happened, the Strider named Olc laid seeds of destruction in Domhan. Stories spread and poisoned the minds of all who heard, turning the humans against the Striders. Whispers of prophesies multiplied; Olc’s predictions were really just his plan to take over in story form.

Once the discontent in Domhan matched that of the Striders siding with Olc, he gathered a third of his kin and renamed them Ruathars, meaning warmongers in the old language. They believed Olc should be king. If it was possible for him, there was hope to someday take the title for themselves. Using drugs, drinks, and other addictive substances, they turned against their instincts, their king, and those they were supposed to protect.

The Ruathars followed Olc into battle against the king and were quickly defeated. The remaining Striders chased their turncoat brothers and sisters across the continent. While he retreated to Domhan, Olc’s seeds of destruction bloomed. Some of the stories Olc had fed to the country came true, and those that did not were ignored. So with the help of the humans, the Ruathars destroyed the mighty steel and stone bridges that held the continents together.

As currents pulled the two land masses further and further apart, there was nothing the king could do to protect the powerless subjects. The humans quickly forgot the king, as Olc and the Ruathars poisoned their minds. Then, as Olc became the dictator of the country, he destroyed the beauty of the land with metal, darkness, and ash.

The small villages became overgrown with stone and metal buildings, some reaching toward the sky; others were shacks that barely qualified as a living space. In some areas, an Element or a Solid Ruathar would lose touch with reality because of the poison they’d ingested, and the metal of a building would lose its solidity, pooling out into the streets, coating the ground and killing anyone or anything caught in it. The poisoned minds of the humans thought the accidents were acceptable in their rarity, because the villages were growing and more opportunities were presenting themselves. They saw the new metals as pretty and forgot the beauty of the land, even as the metal grew old and lost its shine.

Looking to the sky, the dictator found the light to be disgusting. He much preferred the shadows, the night, the dark. Calling on his most powerful Bright and Weather Ruathars, those that could control light and shadows, Olc commanded that the sky be covered. It took a year to cover the entire continent, though the coasts still showed the rise and fall of each day, but the poisoned minds of the humans found that the shielding from the sun was to protect them from the burns and illnesses that accompanied too much light. They found the cloud exciting in the power it showed, and forgot the power of the sun, even as the plants that once gave them food and prosperity began to die.

After the villages started turning to cities and the sky became dark, Olc laid his eyes on the vegetation. He knew it provided the very oxygen his captives breathed. Originally, he planned to let all but what grew on the mountains die off. But it didn’t happen fast enough, so he set it ablaze. Fire ate the grass plains, the forests, the crops. The poisoned minds of the humans found this to be a relief. No longer would they have to work those long, hard days in the fields and forests, growing and gathering food. They found it to be the release of a burden, and forgot the gorgeousness that once covered the land, even as they learned the true meaning of hunger and watched as their pets, their cattle, their wild beasts starved to death.

The Ruathars used this to trick the humans into a poisoned way of thinking that then spread from generation to generation, without the prompting of their captors. Humans did not need beauty. They did not need light. They did not need food, because even hunger was a want. They needed only what the Ruathars were willing to provide, only the inch of freedom allotted to them.

As this way of thinking sunk into the race, Olc and the Ruathars worked on ways to keep the king and Striders at bay. They developed weapons and transportation and did not share these advances with the humans. Soon the Ruathars had giant rolling beasts that traveled across land, and similar ones that floated across water. Eventually, they had a device which sped across the country’s rail-system and then could float on water once it reached the end of the continent.

As decades and even centuries passed, they developed things that could guard areas without the need for people being there. Things such as lights that, when interrupted, would display countermeasures or set off alarms. Devices that could watch and show what was happening to a person miles away. Eventually, they even developed boxes that displayed light and pictures, which the Ruathars used to send and share vast knowledge amongst themselves.

The rare humans who did not accept the way of thinking that plagued their race did what they could to keep up with the advances. Stealing what they were able to, reverse engineering when possible, and even building similar items from scratch, they managed to stay afloat in the vast ocean of opposition they faced. But they were not alone—help joined them soon after the Ruathars took control.

For the first forty years of the After Separation era, the humans faced the Ruathars, who they had invited to their continent, unaided. They did not know they were being suppressed. Most even believed they were doing as they pleased. The truth was, they were just playing to the will of their captors. Wallowing in filth and poverty, starvation and thirst, the humans were blinded to their own needs.

But the king had devised a plan.

During those forty years, the king fought to regain those poor souls. The lost hearts still needed protection, especially from Olc. So time and again, the king and the Striders worked on a plan. It took many years of battle and bloodshed, neither Strider nor Ruathar able to claim a win. On 40 A.S., the first Striders to step on the continent in decades climbed from the water in the town that would be named Ophir. From that day on, the system of hidden trails and safehouses grew, and Striders started entering the country in inconspicuous numbers. They were to lay low and produce generations of Striders, enough to cover Domhan, and wait for Him.

Each century, one of the human race is chosen to receive and guard the messages sent from Saol. Many messages have been sent transcribing the coming of a Strider who will lead his brethren to overthrow Olc. But as time passed, many messages were lost, destroyed, and forgotten. Centuries have passed with dust gathering on old scrolls hidden in tombs and abandoned homes. Untouched and unremembered, they wait to spread their messages and warn the sleeping people of the continent.

For the time of sending messages has passed.

The time of rebellion has come.

He has arrived.

The Night of Legend, the first sign of His arrival, occurred seventeen years ago. He is on the continent, in the country. He is already gathering people who will side with him in preparation for war. Many question if He knows of the days of old, of His future, of His numbered days, counted hours, and waning time. But knowledge is not everything, and He knows what He must to start the war and save the rising.

Part 1

Aden Phoenix Mallen

Clank!

I jump as a door slams shut. Two men stand at the entrance to the hall, lined with cells. I don’t dare turn my head to try and see the two speaking. Their elongated shadows stretch down the hall, past the wall of my cell, misshaping their figures beyond recognition. Lying still on my cot, I pretend to sleep and strain to hear their hushed tones.

…says he was close enough to the search zone to have been a suspect. He was found standing near a sewer cover, that’s how he could have dodged the search, one mutters, with undisguised disgust that I might be involved with Striders.

There’s no question I’m the one the man is talking about. Anyone involved with Striders is sent from the jail they are in to a prison within a day or two. Still, I can’t help but lie still and hope they are talking about another poor soul. This is not the time for me to be split from the others.

Yeah…but that’s kind of a long shot. You know these kids run around in the sewers like no one knows about them. They travel that way all the time. Plus, we already left a message for his guardian. She’ll be waiting to find out what station to pick him up from tomorrow morning, the other man says, with less aggression in his voice.

Nasty little rats, the first man snarls, and I wonder if he can smell the stench that has clung to me for the past several hours. Call her back and tell her that he’s being detained for an undetermined time for terrorist conspiracy.

Crap. This just took a turn for the worse.

Fine. But I get off soon, so let’s get it done as quickly as possible. They start walking down the hall, shining a flashlight into the cells and counting the prisoners. Closing my eyes, I refuse to move as the light crosses over my face. I wait that way for several minutes as the two move past my cell and reach the end of the hall. All are here; time to get this over with.

The door closes and my eyes pop open. Of course, I’m the only one who ever gets arrested. Russ doesn’t need a legal guardian, being twenty-one and all. The few times he’s been caught, he either waits to be released or finds a way out of the charges. JJ uses her dark blonde hair and sharp green eyes to flirt her way out. I’ve been arrested on these charges before, but in different cities. It’s not pretty, but thankfully, they’re looking for a Cold Strider this time. So I’m in the clear.

Associating with Striders usually results in at least a month in prison. Actually, worse than prison—associating with Striders results in being sentenced to a Strider Prison. Whether or not you are a Strider doesn’t matter; it’s just the association. These prisons are run by Ruathars. It’s the same kind of prison I burned the night I met Russ, so his lady friend—Monica—could escape. JJ joined us later when we saved her from a child slavery organization.

Come on! A voice growls at me. I blink from my thoughts to see a guard reaching out and grabbing the front of my hoodie, pulling me up and out of the cell. It’s time for a talk.

I’m pushed into an interrogation room and shoved into a seat. For a moment I wonder if they’d notice that it was me if the doorknob was just a singe too hot…better not risk it, despite the pushing and shoving. My interrogators enter a moment after the guard leaves. I can already tell the good cop from the bad cop. Then I’m immediately insulted by Good Cop’s gift of gummy candy. How old does he think I am? Five?

Aden Mallen? asks Bad Cop, glaring at me as she sits across the table. I nod, despite the fact that I only use the name as a cover identity these days. Have you been in contact with any Striders recently? Specifically Cold Striders with control over ice? Good, they still think I’m human.

No, ma’am. There’s no way I’m giving Russ up, so since my alias is still intact, I decide to play the fearful, innocent kid who would never lie in a situation like this.

Don’t you mock me, boy! she hisses. I could easily rip out your intestines and strangle you with them!

My jaw drops, my eyes widen, staring. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, do not laugh!

Let me try, says Good Cop. Aden, we want to help you get home as soon as possible. So for us to help you, you need to help us. Got it? There’s a mean Strider out there who would freeze you the moment he sees you. Given the trouble I’m in, it’s probably true.

I’m serious! Can I go home now? I put fear into the words as they leave my lips.

"This is just getting started, boy! Bad Cop starts again. I bet a punk like you knows of some Strider hangouts, don’t you?"

No, I try to avoid Striders! Like he said, they’d use their powers on me in a second! I pull back on the fear and try to give the impression that I was properly brainwashed as a child.

Good, Aden, but could you tell us of any rumors I’m sure you’ve heard? Good Cop sighs.

I can’t think of any right now…I’m having trouble thinking at all. I add another fearful quaver to my voice, and a shy grin.

Oh, really? Bad Cop growls.

Please believe me! I don’t want to be strangled by my own intestines!

All right. What about… Good Cop’s voice slows to a stop.

Bad Cop watches him carefully, and they both start looking around. They know something is up. I already know what it is. I wonder what happened to cause him to come for me.

Get him back to his cell, Bad