Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by D. N. Meinster

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: dnm@dnmeinster.com.

  Cover design by eishiya

  www.dnmeinster.com

  D. N. Meinster

  Copyright © 2016 by D.N. Meinster

  Cover Illustration © 2016 by eishiya

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One - In the Shadow of the Door

  Chapter Two - Inheritance

  Chapter Three - Among the High Council

  Chapter Four - The Thief

  Chapter Five - Escapade

  Chapter Six - The First Kingdom

  Chapter Seven - Eulogy

  Chapter Eight - Three Hundred Years

  Chapter Nine - The Resurrected

  Chapter Ten - Before the King

  Chapter Eleven - The Pegasus Races

  Chapter Twelve - Sewers and Spears

  Chapter Thirteen - The Outer

  Chapter Fourteen - Open Graves

  Chapter Fifteen - Open Wounds

  Chapter Sixteen - Xander

  Chapter Seventeen - The Grand Mage

  Chapter Eighteen - Smokescreen

  Chapter Nineteen - Superior

  Chapter Twenty - Conscience and Consensus

  Chapter Twenty-One - Behind Metal Walls

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Devotion

  Chapter Twenty-Three - End of the World

  Chapter Twenty-Four - The First Key

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Fissure

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Greater Heights

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - Guardian

  A Note From the Author

  Chapter One

  In the Shadow of the Door

  "Aros! You snoozy dork. Wake up!"

  Aros' blue eyes shot open. A glance to the shop's entrance revealed the source of his wretched awakening.

  There stood a beautiful young woman, with flowing golden hair and a black dress streaked with pink. Her dark brown eyes were distinguished from her pale skin, with nary a freckle on her entire body. Her nose was tiny, but pinched, and her lips were contorted in such a way to make it difficult to perceive their richness. But she was evidently expressing some mixture of annoyance and bemusement.

  "Leidess," Aros spoke. He pushed some of his spiky brown hair off his forehead as he came to realize his situation. Aros glimpsed down and saw two magnificent golden blades that curved inward at their peaks like hooks. "Oh no. I didn't."

  "Good thing I found you like this instead of Ratch," she said as she proceeded into the shop.

  "Ratch wouldn't have minded, if I hadn't left things like this," Aros said as he lifted himself off his stool. "I could've burned this whole place down. You would've come here and found my corpse."

  "Lucky you didn't then."

  Aros moved over to a hefty stone structure that resembled a chimney. It had been constructed against a far wall, with a curved mouth at its bottom that was almost always alive with flames. But there was only some smoke there now. The fire inside the furnace had put itself out.

  Aros grabbed the two blades from his workstation and stashed them in a slender cupboard in the back.

  "Is that your pet project?" Leidess asked.

  Aros nodded. "And almost my undoing."

  "It's dangerous enough with you striking them by yourself."

  "Don't you give enough lectures at school?"

  "I rarely get to say anything," Leidess replied. "You know how it is."

  Aros scrambled to clean up the rest of the tools he had borrowed. He returned a hammer to Ratch's workstation, which was really just an oversized anvil, and took a gray rag to start wiping down his area.

  Leidess turned her attention to the rest of the shop. She didn't come here very often, and she was glad she didn't have to. It was dimly lit and about as dirty as one might expect to find a blacksmith's shop. There was a humidity inside that made it a struggle to breathe, though that could've also been attributed to the soot floating in the air. The floor was just a layer of hardened brown dirt that felt like stone beneath her feet. If there was any magnificence to be found here at all, it was hanging on the walls. Sure, there was a plethora of pots and pans that, according to Aros, were in high demand these days. There were the usual eating utensils and even a few bowls. But mixed in between the mundane were an assortment of weapons that could only be found here or at the castle.

  While some swords gave off a shine indicating their freshness, others had rusty stains that were unmistakably blood. There was one sword that stood out in particular, for it was darker than the midnight sky and had a fierce jagged edge. It also had a minuscule symbol engraved on its hilt. From a distance, it appeared as a heart with something jutting out on top. But upon closer inspection, one could see it was an upside-down pyramid being impaled upon the heart, which was cracking right down the middle. Neanthal's symbol. Leidess had never seen it outside of a book except in this shop.

  She had once asked Aros to find out how Ratch had gotten hold of it. He reported back that one of Ratch's ancestors had hung it up in the shop, and it simply remained on the wall ever since. It was fascinating to look at. Much more so than the shields and other objects displaying the symbol of the Five Kingdoms. That could be seen everywhere.

  Aros removed the heavy smock he had been wearing, revealing his khaki pants and sky blue t-shirt. He tossed it over his stool and shuffled over to Leidess. "Whenever you're here, you always stare at that one."

  Leidess turned her head to Aros. His face was covered in black smudges. "Are you gonna wash up at home?"

  "No need to." Aros shot back over to his workstation and grabbed the rag he had been using earlier. He scrubbed down his face with it in an attempt to remove the stains.

  Leidess rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure you're making it better. Let's just go."

  Aros tossed the rag down and made his way to leave.

  "Where is Ratch anyway?" Leidess asked.

  "Out on a delivery." The two left the shop, with Aros closing the door behind them.

  "Aren't you gonna lock up?"

  "Ratch always forgets his key. Don't want to lock him out. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

  Leidess grabbed Aros' hand without reluctance, although it was still quite grubby. Their fingers interlocked, and they made their way past the shop, walking on several layers of sand that had covered up the fine cobblestone streets over the years. Aros' sandals crunched into the sand with every step, while Leidess' bare feet caressed the terrain. She had left her footwear at home on purpose, for she loved the texture of the fine granules.

  Lining these streets were a variety of brick and concrete structures that intermixed homes and businesses. Their cramped proximity would have lent to the belief that they were constructed together, but such an idea was undermined by their diversity. No two buildings were the same; not adjacent houses nor similar trade stores. From the components to the paint jobs, each was blaring the uniqueness of their owners and operators. But it was not just the indulgent appearances that could catch a passerby's attention. Jutting into the streets were hanging wooden signs that displayed names of healers and bankers and jewelers and bakers. Only the young children playing with wooden swords seemed capable of ignoring the prominent declarations of individuality that encompas
sed the block.

  "So, are we going to talk about it?" Leidess finally asked.

  "Huh?" Aros responded.

  Leidess wasn't sure if he was being cheeky or if he truly didn't know what she was referring to. Aros could be a bit of a dunce sometimes. "You were sleeping in the middle of your workshop."

  "Oh, that." Aros loosened his grip on Leidess' hand and tugged away. "I haven't been sleeping," he said, as if embarrassed by it.

  "Are you dreaming of your dad again?" Leidess asked. It had been a long time since Aros had brought up his father.

  Aros shook his head. "That would at least be normal."

  "Then what?" Leidess asked, concern evident in her gaze.

  "It's not my dreams, it's..." Aros paused. "I'm losing my mind, Leidess." Aros stopped in the middle of the road. The world started spinning as he recalled what was keeping him awake.

  Leidess wrapped her arms around Aros when it appeared that he might topple over. "We don't have to go to our usual spot today," she said to him. "You clearly need some rest."

  "Well I'm not gonna get it." Aros blinked slowly several times until his surroundings were once again still. He carefully removed Leidess' arms from his body, and they once again headed down the street.

  They continued on in silence as Leidess waited for Aros to elaborate. But he didn't say anything, and their environment transformed from the pristine Inner Kytheras to the rundown Outer Kytheras.

  There were no children playing in the streets of Outer Kytheras, nor was there any viable shop to be found. The stone structures that occupied the sides of the street were abandoned. Not even paupers would live in these caved-in buildings that hadn't been repaired since the Dark Reign. They were mostly rubble, with a few standing walls left behind. No king had bothered to restore this region, and no one had demanded it. Who would risk living inside a decaying relic? There was no telling when the ceiling might collapse, if there was even a place with a ceiling left. As far as Kytherans were concerned, the Outer was abandoned.

  Aros looked about, ensuring no one was in earshot of the pair. "I'm hearing voices, Leidess."

  "And that's keeping you awake?"

  "Technically, it might just be one voice. I can't really tell. It only says one thing."

  "What does it say?" Leidess asked. She tried to let curiosity overwhelm her pity and alarm.

  "Every time I feel myself drifting off to sleep, it calls out for me. All it says is my name. Every night. Hundreds of times. 'Aros!' 'Aros!' It's a scream. It's a whisper. I'm certain there's no one there saying it. But I hear it."

  "You've talked to your mom about this?"

  "I thought it was her calling me at first, but I checked in her room and saw her sleeping. I've asked if she's heard anything at night. She hasn't, of course." Aros' fingers glided through his naturally spiked up hair. Aros was only eighteen years old, but he presently appeared several years older. There were bags underneath his bloodshot eyes, calling attention away from his rather light eyebrows. His oversized ears were far too noticeable, thanks to hair that refused to fall and cover them. His nose was perfectly straight and only a small protrusion compared to the rest of his features. And he almost lacked a chin, for his jaw was completely round, except for a small tip at the very bottom of his face. His nightly stress, plus dirt from the shop, had removed any manifestation of youth.

  "How crazy am I?" he asked.

  "Honestly? I've read of worse," Leidess answered.

  "That's not much comfort."

  Leidess grabbed Aros' hand again, and he smiled at her. "Better?"

  Aros tightened his fingers around Leidess' hand. "Now just make the voice go away."

  "It sounds like you're lucky to get any sleep at all, even if it is in Ratch's shop. You didn't hear it in there?"

  Aros tried to think back, but he didn't even remember falling asleep. One second he was working on his blades, the next he was looking at Leidess. "I guess I didn't."

  "I wouldn't mind staying over one night. Maybe I'll hear something."

  "I doubt that," Aros said. "And your parents wouldn't agree to it."

  "You live right next door to me," Leidess stated. "And I wouldn't give them a chance to say no."

  "I would welcome the company. Being alone at night with a disembodied voice can sometimes be terrifying."

  The pair walked hand-in-hand until they reached the very end of Outer Kytheras. It was a very abrupt transformation, for suddenly there were no more buildings, and all that lie in front of them was desert. The Absentia Desert.

  There was a time when Kytheras was the hub of the world and stepping outside would lead directly into another kingdom. But after the Great Parting, all that was left to occupy the space where mighty kingdoms once stood was an ocean of sand. All of Kytheras was surrounded by this desert. The Unending Seas had been taken from them, as had the mountains and the forests. They had been left with one lake that was within their border, as well as a piece of a river that was now more of a lake. There were trees planted here and there, mostly near the remaining bodies of water, but many seeds had been lost in an attempt to replace the sand with woodland. That was before they discovered nothing could be grown outside the kingdom.

  Aros and Leidess stepped through the sand, making their way further from their city. The winds were calm, so very few grains were thrown into their face. As soon as their destination came into view, Leidess let go of Aros' hand and ran towards it.

  Standing in front of them was a door unlike any other. It was plain and white, with parallel rectangular carvings stretching from its arched head to its very bottom. This door stood nearly twenty feet tall and lacked a doorknob, handle, or any obvious means of opening it. But it did not appear to lead to anywhere, for it was without a supporting structure, completely alone. One could take a peek at its opposite side and see the same: the bland carvings and the absence of a knob.

  Leidess ran through the shadow of the Door until she was right up against it. She placed her hand onto the white surface and closed her eyes. The Door's eerie presence had never frightened her. When she touched it, she felt a connection to the past. This door was the only evidence the stories in her books were true. Behind it was the most powerful being that had ever walked among them. Maybe if she held her hand there long enough, she could feel that power radiating through the Door. At least, that was her hope.

  Aros caught up to Leidess but didn't get nearly as close as she did. He did not like the Door. He would rather believe the old stories were fiction. Leidess' fascination with it only confounded him. The Door clearly did not belong in the world, yet there it was, towering over them as a reminder of a long-forgotten terror. It was far enough from Kytheras that most didn't have to see it. No one wanted to. Only he and Leidess were foolish enough to voyage to it almost daily.

  "Every time I see you like this, I can't help but wonder if you're a Thalian," Aros said.

  "You think I'm a Neanthal worshipper?" Leidess asked, her hand still pressed up against the Door.

  "I don't see anyone else running to put their hand on it," he replied. Aros was somewhat serious with the accusation. He'd heard that after the war, Thalians used to travel to the Door and pray in front of it. But most of them had been locked up or executed. There weren't any left in Kytheras, according to what the girl grasping onto the Door had told him.

  "I know you don't understand, Aros," Leidess said. "But just think of all the stories we grew up with. All that was written down about the Dark Incursion. It's all real because of this impossible door. If this wasn't here, what proof would there be that there were ever five kingdoms to begin with? There's no one left among us who can remember."

  "You know that's not true," Aros said.

  "Well, he's not exactly among us, is he? And that's just a rumor."

  "Go knock on the castle door and find out," Aros suggested.

  Leidess turned from the Door to give him one of her "you can't be serious" looks. She twisted back and this time pressed her ear
against the Door. She tried to listen carefully, eager to hear the Beast on the other side. But all she heard was her own breath, and Aros occasionally kicking up some sand.

  "You won't hear what's on the other side," Aros insisted. "That door is magic."

  Leidess finally backed away. "I know. I just...hope to."

  "You should hope that what's on the other side of this door is long dead."

  "There's really no way to find out, though, is there?" Leidess plopped down into the sand, lying back inside the broad rectangular shadow.

  Aros joined her, squatting down onto the barren terrain. "I don't want to know."

  Leidess frowned. "You should. If Neanthal is dead, that means the kingdoms could reunite. Don't you want to see them all?"

  "Nope," Aros replied.

  Leidess lightly punched Aros in the shoulder. "I'll drag you along with me. We could see the amazing advancements of Belliore. Or climb the mountains in Terrastream. Oh, and I'd love to see the velizards in Faunli. All we have left here are the bones, which get boring to look at."

  "But this door doesn't?" Aros pointed out.

  "The Door is alive," Leidess answered simply.

  Aros glared it at. One did get the sense that it knew they were there. Maybe it was alive. "Well, you can have fun on your adventures. I'd rather just stay here and work in Ratch's shop."

  "Really? You'd prefer being a blacksmith's apprentice as opposed to an explorer?"

  "Definitely. We were in the same class, Leidess. Madam Tudith told us all about the old wars. The other kingdoms weren't too fond of Kytherans. You must still hear about it, being her apprentice and all."

  "She's rather obsessed with war," Leidess lamented. "And they were all before King Aergo. Hardly relevant."

  "Can you believe it's been three years since we graduated?" Aros asked.

  "Doesn't feel that way to me. Especially since I never left."

  Following graduation from a community school, Kytherans were obligated to choose an occupation to partake in. They were then given an apprenticeship in their chosen occupation. Leidess, who enjoyed reading and learning the history of the Five Kingdoms, had decided to take up teaching. Unfortunately, the only teacher lacking an apprentice was the one she had studied under for several years. Madam Tudith was nice enough, but her areas of interest only occasionally overlapped with Leidess'. For whatever reason, Madam Tudith enjoyed the brutality of war, rather than the cooperation that followed the unification. Still, Leidess looked forward to taking over her class one day and revising the focal points.