The Lightning Rod Read online

  TableofContents

  Prologue 2

  1. The Shifter and The Caster 5

  2. The Tracker 16

  3. The Calling of The Storm 28

  4. Immersion 40

  5.ANew Leaf 46

  6. Overload 59

  7. Chaos Revealed 73

  8. Repentance 88

  9. Grounded 101

  10. Killiad 113

  11. The Emphyrius 127

  12. Upon Further Examination 136

  13. The Wanderer 148

  14. Transmutation 157

  15. Heritage 178

  16. The Harbinger 192

  17. Consequential 204

  18. The Lightning Rod 214

  19. Arise 222

  20. The Traveler 239

  21. Allegiance 256

  22. Rogue 270

  23. Knights of The Fallen Son 293

  24. Perpetual Burdens 310

  25. The Fallout 324

  26. The Battle of Veorn 335

  27. ADebt Unpaid 350

  Prologue

  Ranir opened his golden brown eyes. The wood on the ceiling mirrored the musky plank he was lying on. His entire body was throbbing with a dull pain. Sitting up, he could smell the daub and straw, mixed with the mountain rain. Shadows from the candles danced about the room.

  “Where am I?” said Ranir, the dark, shaggy haired boy. He was near adult aged, a short scruffy beard covered his face.

  “You are home. Well, my home, of course,” replied a voice from a dark corner. Ranir couldn’t make out who the deep voiced man was, in the shadows. He wasn't even sure that it was really a person at all.

  “And just where would that be?” asked Ranir, sitting up and turning towards the shadowy corner of the room. Leaning forward from the creaking chair, the man shoved his face into the aura of the candlelight.

  “That would be very near to your birthplace. Or... rebirth, is what I should say. We are in the Veörn Mountains,” said the man.

  Ranir could see through the shadows on the mans face. It was textured with scars and age. The golden light from the candle flame casted a foggy tone to his skin.

  “What happened to me?And why am I back?” questioned Ranir. The man stood up and moved closer to Ranir. Something familiar about him struck Ranir. He knew that he had seen this man before. He simply couldn't be certain, though.

  “You have been given yet another chance. The Old Gods aren’t satisfied with the balance yet,” he said, speaking with a voice that resonated from deep in his chest. He spoke through a long black beard, which seemingly muffled his voice ever so slightly.

  Disbelief perplexed Ranir. He couldn’t belief that his actions had drew a response from the four old gods. He had thought that maybe his work was done. What more could they want?

  “Even if that is true, that doesn’t explain why I am back here, of all places,” Ranir said. The man seemed annoyed with the repetitive question. He pursed his lips together as he took in a hearty breath. Pausing for moment before exhaling, he grasped his beard in his hand, letting the thick hair pass though his fingers.

  “Just know that you are meant to do more in Gnariam. Your responsibilities are not fulfilled so easily and all your questions will be answered in time,” answered the man. He was stern with his answers. Ranir thought it all seemed like riddles to him.

  The Stranger was clad in a dark and dusty cloak. His boots were worn down, and a couple patches dotted his pants. Besides the way his character was so steadfast and the manner in which he carried himself and his conversations, Ranir would have thought he was a beggar.

  “So for now, go home. Or what remains of your home. You will be called upon when the moment is right. There is much to discuss,” said the man.

  Ranir looked out the window as lightning dashed colorfully across the sky.Abeautiful blue and yellow bolts dodged each other through the air. The thunder shook the entire shack. The arc of energy, spreading various hues of light, enveloped the room to a near blinding sense. Ranir could see all the details of grain in the old wood and the hole in the side of the far wall.

  “Now, that is something I know,” said Ranir, feeling the lightning in his core. It was as if that spark of energy was a part of him. He could feel the static raise his hair on his neck.

  “ How did this happen? Why did this happen?” he pondered to himself. Turning around to further question the man, Ranir was only left with silence, and an empty room. The man had gone. He began to recollect the events that transpired over this past year. He remembered that fateful night when he became The Lightning Rod.

  Chapter1:TheShifterandThe Caster

  The morning was warm. The moisture was evident everywhere, as it clung to every tree, and dampened every rock. The humid wind still remained from the passing storm. Spotted rays of sunlight moved, between the trees and the clouds above.

  Ranir Trysfal was just waking from the loud crash of a branch nearby. The sound doubled his heart rate as he jumped up. Instinctively, he reached for his dagger.

  “ Always something,” he thought, realizing it was just another casualty from the storm. He remembered the tempest rushing in through the late night. The skies a deep purple, lightning cracking across the sky. The thunder shook the ground. The downpour of rain washed out his fire, leaving Ranir with only his quick shelter.

  Clambering to his feet, he put his dagger in the sheath on his belt. Pulling his tattered leather tunic on, Ranir could smell the moisture in the air, and on his clothes. He knew another storm was approaching. The storm from the previous night had shattered his makeshift shelter. Branches, leaves and vines littered about the small niche. Not wanting to experience another stormy night, Ranir picked up his deer hide sack and began gathering up his supplies. It was then he realized that he slept through the bulk of the storm. How was that even possible? He felt full of energy, though.

  Scattered about was his water bag, torch, and rope. His bow was intact, but the quiver was broken at the seams. Afew arrows lay broken on the ground. He gathered his blanket and what was left of the smoked rabbit he ironically stored in a rabbit pelt. Ranir knew that he had a half day journey back to the farm. He needed to get out from underneath the tree’s canopy, to see the sun. Knowing the daylight hours was a crucial part of traveling so far, with minimal supplies, especially so close to the Veörn Mountains.

  As he climbed out and saw the sun, Ranir knew that it was not yet midday.And yet, the humidity was already drawing sweat from his brow. He knew the risk of hunting close to the mountains. However, this is where the best vräel were. He could’ve stayed closer to home, and hunted deer with Marnos and Selendt His friends were always fearful of Veörn, the legendary story of the mountaintop temple.

  Most of the villagers stayed within the forest, far from the mountains. Old stories of Gods, and monsters, had spread for millennia. Much like the villagers, the deer kept their distance as well. Not the vräel, though. These creatures were much bigger, and faster. They resembled a horse in size. They had horns protruding from the sides of their almost buffalo-like heads.

  Vräel had broad shoulders like a lion. This, making it move faster than a horse, accumulated its weight almost seven-fold of a deer. Ranir knew if he could take one of these magnificent creatures down, he would be able to bargain for much more than normal at the market.

  He hadn’t planned to get so close to the Veörn Mountains. However, before the previous night’s storm forced him into crafting a shelter, he was tracking a rather large vräel. Even with half of his arrows broken, Ranir still had confidence that he would secure a kill.

  Sensing it was a small risk, to trek further to the mountains, he tightened his rucksack knots and continued his hunt. It was past midday by the time Ranir got to the bas
e of the Veörn Mountains. He knew vräel traveled close to the mountains, but he didn’t know exactly how close. The tracks that he was following led him straight into the mountains, becoming a dead end once they reached the jagged, black rock floor. He didn't realize just how much energy he had spent for a failed hunting track.

  This was disheartening, for he had traveled much farther that he originally anticipated. He journeyed into potential danger. He was low on food and water. He would have to ration out the rest until he returned home, in Heramor. Looking up to the sky, Ranir knew that he wouldn’t have enough daylight left to travel home. He knew he would have to make camp again tonight.

  Ranir began unpacking his bag, worried of the minimal supplies that remained. He walked around for several minutes, collecting dead branches that were scattered at the edge of the forest.

  He planned on fortifying his new shelter with stones and mud, as to mitigate the damage from the storm, that was cascading from the west, over the mountains.An hour had passed by the time Ranir had finished the shelter. Strangely, he thought it would have taken longer, but the material was all around him. He didn't have to travel far this time, to gather what he needed. It was time to collect more timber for a fire.

  As he was nearing the forest edge, Ranir noticed the contrast of the mountain and the forest. The forest was teaming with life and color. The smell of evergreens flowed through the air.An ambient noise was constant from critters of all types. The mountain, however, seemed dead to him. It was very much devoid of color, and of life.All that existed here were sharp rocks, blackened.

  As he was near the edge of the forest, he heard a cracking sound behind him, making him stop instantly in his tracks. Turning only his head to use his peripherals, Ranir could make out the figure of a creature, stagnant behind him. He didn't want to scare off a potential hunt, if he could make it to his bow. The animal behind him did not run. It did not move at all, after the rocks broke beneath its mass.

  Ranir had, until this moment, hunted deer, vräel, wolves and mörcats. Whatever was behind him, and out of focus, sent a chill down his spine. This was altogether a new experience for him during a hunt. In that moment, he realized, something about this unknown creature was violent and infuriated. He could feel his hair raising at the base of his neck. His skin felt as if it were crawling with bumps, like the skin of chicken’s foot.

  Ranir knew he had to either run, which he had never ran away from a fight before, or face down the beast. Slowly and steadily, he drew his dagger out. His bow lay too far away, on his blanket. Looking down, he noticed his hand shaking. He began to turn around with his full body. Before he was fully turned around, he realized, that hunting and studying every creature in and around his village, had not prepared him for this. In a dark flash the beast slammed him in the side, taking his breath away, and knocked him 15 paces away.As he hit the ground, with a loud thud, he caught a better glimpse of this mysterious creature. He was dumbstruck and petrified. He dare not move just yet.

  Looking up all the way, he saw something nefarious. The creature reminded him of a story he heard as a boy. This beast had scale-like, jet black fur. It’s face was that of a wolf, but more like a wolf skull. It had razor sharp, bright white teeth. Ranir could almost hear the saliva dripping from the beast’s jaw. It had a long arrow tipped tail. From the mountain, behind the creature, Ranir noticed movement among the rock. Ranir could almost make out the shadow of a man.

  “ Azshul navok!” came a bellow from the shadowy figure. Ranir hadn’t had time to think.A bright orangish-white flame burst from seemingly nowhere and struck the creature.

  Ranir couldn’t believe it.As he watched the orb of fire strike the beast, the creature shifted into the form of a man in midair. The newly formed human landed perfectly on his feet, sliding a meter backwards in the gravel. He was stark naked, with long, jet black hair. His back was towards Ranir. He flashed a look over his shoulder, at Ranir. His eyes darkly matched his hair color. Asmirk came across his face, baring razor sharp teeth. The man leaped into the air with inhuman strength. Ranir noticed the man shape shifting once more into a flying creature. Before he was in flight another sharp curse came from the man at the mountain base.

  “ Sithak. Notith avol!” cried out the caster of deep, red orange fire.An immense wall of flames horizontally fell atop the shifter, knocking him to the ground. Ranir could feel the presence of the caster, even standing back, the energy of the fire seemed to emanate all around and yet, seemed to pull the energy from him.

  “Vile, pathetic beast! You don’t belong here!” Yelled the caster, walking towards the man, once again in human form. Ranir could see muscles in the man's back that reminded him of thick ropes.

  The shifter lay still on the ground, breathing heavily. The man in the shadows approached the shifter. He was wearing full black attire. His robe was pitch black with silver threading dancing around the sleeves and the bottom. His hair was dark brown, face covered in a black scarf.A long, hooded cloak was strewn across his back, and a dagger protruded from his belt. He moved about almost silently. Clearly, this man was highly skilled. That much was evident, immediately.

  Ranir slowly rose to his feet, now closely watching the fire caster. He did not move from his landing spot, though. He studied the mystery hero, if that is what he was, if only for a moment.

  "Who are you?And what, or who is that?" exclaimed Ranir. The man pulled his scarf from his face, revealing a scrubby, dark brown beard. The man seemed to be at least twice his age. Wrinkles littered his forehead.

  "His name is Felg Eldìr.And he-" pointing at the shifter, " is my bounty. Ashape-shifting murderer is what he is!" replied the man, now standing over the shifter. He was holding silver shackles in his hand.

  Ranir had heard stories of bounty hunters in the past. He remembered that they were supposed to be some of the best in Sythestine at combat. Stories spread far and wide of a bounty hunter dressed in black. He wondered if this was the legend standing before him now.

  "You? You are a bounty hunter? How were you doing that with the fire? What are you?" cried Ranir, still in disbelief of the events that had happened only moments ago.

  "Yes I am a bounty hunter. I am a pyromage, as well. One of the Emphyres many, many mages. But only one of the few remaining bounty hunters, I'm afraid," answered the man.

  " Could he really be a mage?" thought Ranir. So much had happened so quick that he had so many questions and no idea of what or how he should ask them.

  He almost couldn't believe it.Amage, performing combat magic, or any magic, was too hard to believe. On top of that, he was fighting a shapeshifter. He had never heard of one before. He wasn't sure if this was a dream or real. Of course, Ranir had simply just witnessed it himself.

  "My name is Detmés Ontaga," the man introduced himself, his voice of an unfamiliar accent to Ranir. His voice was deep, bold and brilliant all in one. The man spoke fast and with conviction.

  "I am Ranir. And I have never seen anything like this-" pointing at the shifter. He was still disgusted seeing the shifter. His form was human and yet, seemed more reptilian or animal-like than human. His skin glistened like that of a slug.

  "-or you! How is that possible? Is that actual Magic?" Ranir said, beginning to breath heavier now that reality seemed to be setting in. Could this actually be possible? Can magic like this exist? How had he never heard of it before? Of course, stories of old were thought to be fantasy."There has never been someone like you in Heramor. That's my village, 'bout a half day's travel from here," said Ranir. He just remembered that his friend, Marnos, was probably still looking for him to be coming through the forest.

  His home village, Heramor, was small, mostly farmers and the poor. So much to get away from, and so much to miss. The thought of his village comforted him, compared to what had just transpired.

  Detmés seemed intrigued, and almost amused. He turned more, to face Ranir."Son, do you know where you are?" asked Detmés.

  "Of course, at the foot of th
e Veörn Mountains. I tracked my hunt all the way here!" boasted Ranir, confused.

  The man let out a bellowing chuckle. It sounded like the had swallowed some glass and washed it down with some high end alcohol. It was almost like the sound of wood crackling in a fire.

  "Oh whats so funny now, sir?" demanded Ranir. "Boy, you must've hit your head harder than I thought. You are about a week's ride from Heramor." said Detmés.

  "What are you talking about? I tracked a vräel all the way here through the forest!" exclaimed Ranir. Suddenly, the smile vanished from Detmés's face. He now looked stricken with fear from unknown reason."Kid, vräel don't travel into the forest. Now, I don't know what you think you know about them, but they are vile creatures that stick to the mountains. Massive, and territorial. If you followed anything out of the forest, it was this thing!" he said, kicking the shifter laying silently on the ground.

  "But. No wait. It was-" started Ranir. "No! You wait! Listen now! If he lured you out of the forest, he most likely had help of another sorcerer, enticing you. Messing with your head!" said Detmés.

  The shifter laying in the gravel started shaking silently. Ranir realized he was trying to contain his maniacal laughing. He stopped chuckling as he looked up at Detmés.

  "Gotcha this time, Bounty." said the shifter. His voice was smooth, like the hiss of a snake.Detmés glanced up at Ranir, a look of unsettledness struck across his face.

  "Kid, don't move." he started to say. Detmés began to scan the area around them. His face grew hard, focused. His eyes were dark green, now that he was close enough for Ranir to see. They moved slowly around the background. He slowly turned towards the mountains, observing everything.

  "Shtak!" came the sound behind Detmés. "Aah!" exclaimed Detmés as he went down on one knee. Ranir noticed a deep red arrow, sticking out of Detmés's black cloak.

  The arrow looked as if it were smoking, the red color pulsating like an ember in a fire. " Orshtu Alak!" Detmés casted another spell. Ranir suddenly felt energy being pulled from himself. As he looked down, the shifter fainted on the jagged rock.