Guards Vestige Read online

  Legends of Domstria Guards Vestige

  Copyright © 2018 by Storehouse Entertainment

  If you purchased this book without a cover, please be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. The author and publisher have not received any compensation for this “stripped book.”

  This is a work of fiction. Places, incidents, names, and characters, are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, establishments, locals, or events is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-0-9910323-7-2

  All rights reserved, this book or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any way without written permission from:

  Storehouse Entertainment Group 3281 N Johnson Creek Road Prineville, Oregon 97754

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost I have to thank my parents. My mother, for putting up with me long enough to allow me to accomplish this and helping me work towards it. My father, for always being willing to help me flesh out ideas and inspiring me to follow through with this. Thank you both, without you there is no way I’d have ever made it this far. I can never truly repay either one of you.I have to thank my friends for being honest with me as my proof readers and focus groups. For always being happy and eager to hear any story I was able to make up for them to enjoy.Thank you to my artist, Will Stinnett, you took the images I had in my head and made them even better than I had ever hoped.Lastly, I have to thank the authors of every fantasy and sci-fi book I ever read growing up, for filling my head with a love of stories and giving me the mindset of a story teller.

  Prologue

  3,766th year of the First Age.

  The deafening din of steel striking steel rang out over the open coastline a thousand times over. The smell of blood hung thick in the air. Screams and wails of dying men and monsters joined together in the chorus of war. The Dragon Guard and the army of the Left Hand battled one another for the fifth consecutive day, scarring the terrain with blood, bodies, and dragon fire. The land would never fully recover from this battle. It wasn’t the first area of the world to be broken beneath the feet of the two armies, and Marcus was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

  Marcus Prim, commander of the southern forces of the Dragon Guard, stood at the edge of a tree line overlooking the battle. He ran a hand over his balding head, feeling the last few whisks of hair as he closed his dull green eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he could see everything unfolding before him. The leather-clad Dragon Guards were fighting an uphill battle against the twisted forces of Cadent the Left Hand, a fallen High Dragon who had rebelled against his siblings to enslave and rule humanity under the tutelage of a still-darker force. Across the mass of bodies and writhing monsters was the fortress of Lendic, one of the greatest feats of Dragon Guard architecture. It had been taken from them three months ago and had since been used as a staging ground for the Disciples of the Left Hand.

  The castle towered over the land, its shadow stretching far into the ocean beyond. It was the second-largest fortress the Dragon Guard had possessed with the largest port on the continent allowing them to ferry troops in and out of the area with ease as well as storing some of their most vital supplies. Marcus and the bulk of his forces had been beyond the Bulwark to the west and had been alerted to the loss of the fortress only when their supply line had been cut off, which forced them to retreat from one battle and begin another. Thankfully, the Left Hand troops beyond the mountains hadn’t pursued them this far. If they had, Marcus’s army would have been caught between the two and slaughtered.

  He took his eyes off the castle and turned them to the forces on the ground. His soldiers fought vigorously against warped creatures and their masters. They battled monsters with the visage of wolves and countless other animals from around the world, all perverted into something dark and wrong.

  “Commander!”

  A female voice snapped Marcus out of his trance. He turned to see a young woman clad in ranger leather a few feet away.

  He motioned her over. “Report?”

  The ranger handed him a folded paper. He quickly broke the wax seal when he recognized the symbol of the scholar sect. It was a battle report from Eliza, his captain currently commanding the north flank of the battle. He was disappointed to find the news as he had expected, and feared. They were being pushed back with heavy losses. He folded the paper again and looked at the broken seal, pondering his next move.

  For the time being he had no way to break through the Disciples’ defenses. The keep was too well fortified for a frontal assault. Even with the aid of dragons, they had no way to safely advance—which begged a question: How it was taken to begin with? Marcus chose to leave that topic for another time. Right now he simply had to figure out how to proceed. Even if they did manage to secure the fortress this night, he worried their remaining numbers wouldn’t be enough to hold it against a counterattack, which he was sure would come from beyond the Bulwark.

  Marcus hadn’t noticed that the ranger was still standing to one side, waiting for her next order.

  He waved her away. “You may return to your other duties.”

  She saluted him by bringing both arms up across her chest, letting the steel around her wrists clink together. “Yes, commander.”

  As she left, he lifted his hand and looked at the band around his own wrist. Steel covered in orange veins, much like a stone etched with quartz. It was the badge and the burden of a Dragon Guard, something he had worn for as long as he could remember. With a furrowed brow he turned on his heel and walked into the tree line. He only went about two dozen feet before he broke through the other side and into the thick of their western basecamp. Tents extended in a line to the horizon, with Dragon Guards running every which way, attending to a countless number of duties.

  It didn’t take Marcus long to stride to the command tent. Even before he reached the entrance, he heard his advisors arguing inside. With a quiet sigh he stepped past the two wardens guarding the entrance. He was greeted inside by Nadine, his commander in training, who seemed to be getting ready to storm out of the tent and nearly ran into him. The first thing he noticed was her irritated expression and the blinding white blonde hair currently braided into a tail and hanging down to her lower back.

  “Commander, finally, you’re here!” she said. “We can’t do this much longer. If we’re going to make our move to take the castle we have to do it now. Call in the reserves and make a full offensive.”

  Marcus stepped to the square table in the center of the tent and handed Nadine the report as she made her way to the other side. “Eliza agrees,” he said. “They’re being pushed back, as is Darrius on the eastern front, if his last report still holds true. Eliza believes the only way to secure her position is to sacrifice it, to send her men to reinforce his then push back even harder. Catch her attackers between Darrius and us and hopefully cutting a portion of them off, forcing them to the outskirts of the battle without reinforcements.”

  Nadine read through the report before passing it to Samuel on the other side of the table. He read it over and ran a hand across the black stubble on his chin and cheeks as if checking its growth.

  “Something unsettles me, commander,” Samuel said as he placed the report on the table. “The creatures here, they fight with a vigor we haven’t seen in a long time. Blows that would normally kill only maim and enrage. In addition, it seems the Disciples have greater power than we have previously seen.”

  Marcus looked up from the map spread across the table at his captain. Samuel led the ranger sect of the Dragon Guard and was a ra
ther small man. His armor like all rangers was sparse, covering only his chest, lower legs, forearms and shoulders. He was short at five feet with a thin body and small amount of muscle tone. In contrast there was Nadine, the woman who would take Marcus’ place in just a few years’ time. She was thirty years young compared to Marcus’ seventy eight. A giant of a woman, standing at six and a half feet she was the epitome of strength with the thick heavy leather plating of her warden armor only adding to the image.

  Marcus knew he could trust their judgment. This caused Samuel’s words to concern him all the more. “Please elaborate,” he said.

  “The only other time we’ve seen Disciples with this much power,” Samuel said, “was when one of the princes was present.”

  Nadine rolled her eyes. “You aren’t seriously suggesting,” she said, “that one of the seven is hiding nearby?”

  Samuel shrugged. “It’s not so unlikely. Cupi was last seen in the swamps near here a dozen years ago. Luxsus was last reported beyond the Bulwark and Furoret’s personal fortress rests on the western coast of the continent.”

  The certainty in Samuel’s eyes was chilling. It was more than enough to cause Marcus to at least entertain the idea. Even if it proved to be false, it was better to act on the assumption of a greater danger than to ignore it entirely.

  “Which one would be most likely?” Marcus asked.

  Samuel tapped his chin thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, it would be Luxsus. Furoret would be on the field if he was here, and as I said, Cupi has not been seen for years.”

  Nadine crossed her arms and scowled. “If it’s really one of the princes,” she said, “we don’t stand a chance.”

  Marcus sighed and was about to speak when a commotion outside caught all their attention. The three exchanged a look and started for the door. Before they were even outside, Marcus knew a dragon was landing in the camp. The walls of the tent billowed under the wind of its wings. Once outside, they were greeted by a growing cloud of dust it as the dragon folded in its bat like wings and dropped the last few feet causing the ground to shudder under its weight.

  Marcus bowed and said, “Forus, what news do you bring?”

  Like all dragons, Forus was two-toned in coloration. His primary scales, which covered the majority of his body, were a deep, sapphire blue that faded into his chest and underbelly’s secondary scales, which were a lighter, sky blue. The membrane of his wings shared the same color as his secondary scales. His body was nearly thirty-five feet from the tip of his tail to his snout, while his wingspan nearly doubled that. Now solidly on the ground, he stood at his full height of fifteen feet.

  Forus’ voice was deep and guttural: “Belladux and his forces are crossing through the woods to the northeast. They will arrive by daybreak.”

  Nadine suddenly stood straighter. “Belladux?” she said. “He’s coming personally? Why would he concern himself with this battle?”

  Forus dug his claws into the dirt and growled low. “Ocudai has discovered the Left Hand resides here.”

  Marcus tensed. “He’s here, truly?”

  Forus lowered his head to look Marcus in the eyes. His head was adorned with two curved, ivory horns resembling a ram, while at the back of his jaw he sported two much-shorter spikes jutting downward.

  Forus hissed his next words, “We believe he hides within the halls of Lendic.”

  He lifted his foreleg and handed Marcus a bag he’d clutched in his claws. Marcus quickly opened it and read through the parchment inside. It was a report from Belladux. Cadent had been injured in a battle with his sibling Lestice, just across the sea in the tundra. The idea that Marcus had nearly tried to take the fortress with the High Dragon inside was a frightening one. He would have sent his entire army to their deaths.

  The dragon’s voice rumbled with irritation. “He has eluded us for centuries, but finally we have a chance to end this war. He is weakened and because of this we can finally take him for the judgment he deserves.”

  When Marcus finished reading, he nodded. “I’ll order a full withdrawal and prepare for a final assault at daybreak when Lord Belladux arrives.”

  Marcus raised his shield and let the creature’s claws scrape harmlessly along the shield’s length before he pushed forward and brought his broadsword up and into the wolfish beast’s gut. He twisted the blade until it was flat. Planting his shield against the edge, he pushed as hard as he could, wrenching the sword out through the beast’s ribs. It howled in fury before stumbling off the edge and into the mass of fighters below.

  Marcus had no moment to rest, however. Another of the hulking beasts lunged for him. Marcus leapt to the side, letting it fly past him before it landed and skidded across the wall, leaving scratches in the stone where it dug in its claws. The beast readied itself and charged for him again, swiping at Marcus’s head, then at his midsection. Marcus ducked the first blow and blocked the second with his shield. The strike sent vibrations down his arm.

  Before the creature could react and lash out again, Marcus lifted his sword and swung it down hard into the beast’s skull. When the creature fell back, the implanted sword was ripped from Marcus’s grip. He quickly glanced around the wall of the fortress readying himself for another attack but was thankful to find his immediate area clear, allowing him a moment to breathe as he wrenched his sword free.

  The commander looked out over the battle being waged in the light of the rising sun. At midnight, Marcus had withdrawn all his soldiers into the tree line, where they regrouped and patiently waited for Belladux’s arrival. The Disciples knew better then to pursue them into the forest and had taken the time to reinforce their own position. Belladux’s personal legion had arrived just before daybreak. They were quickly integrated within the forces already present to fill in the gaps left by their losses. The moment the sun crested the horizon, they had charged in.

  Under the cover of dragon fire directed at the walls, they had managed to close the gap to the wall quickly. Then they employed battering rams to whittle down the gate. It took two hours of nonstop pressure, not counting the additional two hours of stalls they’d faced from the walls’ defenders and opposing dragons. When the gates had finally been thrown open, the fight had tipped drastically in favor of the Dragon Guard.

  Most of the Disciples and their nightmarish creatures that had been protected by the walls had retreated into the fortress itself before closing it off and leaving the rest of their army to fend off the Dragon Guard. In spite of the Dragon Guard’s success, Belladux had yet to reveal himself. Presumably he was waiting for Cadent to emerge from the fortress, which as of yet seemed impervious to all attempts to enter. Every door remained unscathed by both flame and steel.

  Marcus had never seen the High Dragon firsthand, but had been informed by his predecessor of Cadent’s powers as The Left Hand of Wisdom. He was one of four who’d been created to guide and teach mankind. Now he was a betrayer and usurper to Verhova the creator.

  “Commander!”

  Marcus turned to see Samuel walking toward him along the length of the wall. He was flanked by two hooded rangers with empty quivers.

  Samuel smiled at his commander. “The battle has turned in our favor. The field is nearly ours.”

  Marcus shook his head. “This is a battle of attrition. While the majority of the Disciples themselves have fallen, their beasts seem to have no end. I will not call this for our side until the Left Hand falls from the sky.”

  Samuel nodded. “Of course, commander. Surely Cadent will emerge soon. He will have no choice soon.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow at his captain. “How so?”

  “Nadine has taken the battering rams to the walls of the fortress itself rather than the doorways. Whatever magic kept them standing does not do the same for the walls; it will only be a matter of time.”

  Marcus smiled. Nadine was shaping up to be a wonderful commander. “Let us
hope we can manage whatever we find within. If we–”

  There was a deafening grinding. The wall they stood upon shook violently. Marcus and the three rangers dropped to one knee to ensure they wouldn’t fall until the shaking subsided. Then a heavy and enfeebling chill settled over them. The sounds of battle all around them slowed until they seemed to stop entirely. Dragon Guards stared in confusion as the twisted creatures they were fighting moments ago hunched down and cowered while the few Disciples remaining threw themselves to the ground and began to pray or outright flee.

  Marcus felt heavy, as if there were weights strapped to his body that he was barely strong enough to lift. He struggled to rise. When he finally managed to stand straight, he turned his eyes to the towering castle of the fortress across the courtyard. Everything was still. Then the roof of the castle burst upward and apart as the titanic form of Cadent emerged, sending the remains of the towers and roof outward to rain down upon the armies in the courtyard, crushing both sides as the chunks of stone rolled. The mighty dragon spread his wings the moment he was clear of the castle and hovered in the air for a moment before beating his wings to stay aloft.

  Cadent’s primary scales were the purest white Marcus had ever seen, while his secondary were a shade of brilliant silver. His body was enormous, at least seven hundred feet long and three hundred tall. The morning light shone over his scales, giving him an ethereal glow. He ceased beating his wings for a moment and let himself fall onto the castle. Upon landing, the castle’s upper half crumbled beneath him until he settled on the rubble. Cadent lifted his head high and looked out over the battlefield before him. How he had been able to hide within the confines of the castle was impossible for Marcus to understand.

  Cadent steadied himself by wrapping his tail, which was proportionately longer than any other dragon, around one of the towers of the castle that still stood. He pointed his snout to the sky and his neck flared with light. A moment later, he lowered his head and let loose a stream of scorching white fire at the courtyard below.