When Night Falls

L. Coleman Gerald

Description

When Night Falls is an epic fantasy in the tradition of The Lord of the Rings by Tolkein or The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan. We rarely consider the reputation of our age. An ordinary one, for most of us, would suffice. You might be an Empress too concerned with the affairs of State, a soldier focused on your duty, a former rascal trying to find redemption, or even a great warrior too busy with your command to know that there are whispers being spoken in late-night taverns. But what happens when your ordinary age stops being so ordinary? What happens when dark, twisted, things step out of the mists of legend to walk the world again? Strange, black, ships have been spotted far out at sea. People are disappearing from towns without a trace. Only Cordovan, a member of the Watchmen of Alexandria, knows something is wrong, as he races toward the capital, hoping he will make it in time. Meanwhile, far to the north, two of the ancient Sages of the West, the Ki'gadi, know that the darkness is coming. While the rest of the world carries on, unaware of the danger, they search for the place where the darkness is taking root. Heroes will be needed to face what is coming. Thankfully, Alexandria is home to one. His name is Bantu, the Commander-General of the Peoples Company. He will be the key when night falls.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 10 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781622876556
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Three Gifts



First Edition Design Publishing

When Night Falls: Book One of The Three Gifts
Copyright ©2014 Gerald L. Coleman

ISBN 978-1622-875-78-8 PRINT
ISBN 978-1622-876-55-6 EBOOK

LCCN 2014937249

May 2014

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



Cover art by Edli Akolli

Map by Tom Fayen

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
Book One

When Night Falls

By Gerald L. Coleman
Foreword


This book, well series of books, began as a way of changing the world of literature, which I love immensely. Growing up I read all the great science fiction and epic fantasy I could get my hands on. The house I grew up in was simple, clean, and filled with reading. I have my mother to thank for that. Some of my earliest memories are of her reading to my brother and I. She raised us on her own. One of the greatest gifts she gave us was a love of reading. While we did not have much in the way of material possessions I was still able to travel the universe. I moved through time and space. I rode on the back of horses with heroes. I fought monsters with them, pushed back the Darkness alongside them, wielding a sword, or magical powers. My mind was alive with the wonders of far away realms, distant battles, and magical possibilities. All the while I learned what it meant to make a difference in the world.
While I reveled in dragonriders, wizards, knights, elves, and even hobbits I never really got to see myself reflected in the thousands of pages that passed before my eyes. I appropriated the position of hero as an avid reader but somewhere in the back of my mind I knew these heroes did not look like me. They looked just like most of the square-jawed, white, men I saw on television or at the movies. Even in the comic books I read the same archetypes applied. There was the occasional Luke Cage: Power Man or Black Panther but mostly the prevailing archetype held. So I decided to write an epic fantasy adventure with all the normal facets, which I have loved so much about the genre, but with one simple addition. In my adventure everyone would find a heroic character with whom they could identify. To you, the reader, I say thank you for reading my homage to epic fantasy. I appreciate you taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoy reading this first book in the series as much as I have enjoyed writing it for you.


Gerald L. Coleman
March 2014
For my mother June, for giving me a love of reading and always believing in me, Tim for being the best big brother, and my community of writers, particularly the Affrilachian Poets …
Table of Contents

Chapter One . 9
Things fall apart
Chapter Two . 23
Keep the home fires burning
Chapter Three . 35
Storm a’ brewing
Chapter Four . 46
An open door and words between
Chapter Five . 69
A fork in the road
Chapter Six . 87
And those who carry on
Chapter Seven . 113
Thoughts of home
Chapter Eight 133
A change in the weather
Chapter Nine . 145
A touch from the dark
Chapter Ten . 155
Holding on and letting go
Chapter Eleven . 175
Someone watching over me
Chapter Twelve . 193
Of things past
Chapter Thirteen . 227
Gifts and graces
Chapter Fourteen . 243
Where need takes us
Chapter Fifteen . 263
Around about midnight
Chapter Sixteen . 281
A caution against favors
Chapter Seventeen . 309
The silent speak
Chapter Eighteen . 319
Questions and answers
Chapter Nineteen . 335
Homecoming
Chapter Twenty . 345
Al’akaz
Chapter Twenty-One . 369
As deep as the Wadi
Chapter Twenty-Two . 381
Where women do not tread
Chapter Twenty-Three . 397
The debt
Chapter Twenty-Four . 413
Shadows in the Hall
Chapter Twenty-Five . 427
The hallowed place of horrors
Chapter Twenty-Six . 445
Sidesteps
Chapter Twenty-Seven . 463
When visitors come calling
Chapter Twenty-Eight 481
Challenge
Chapter Twenty-Nine . 495
Moh’di’ba
Chapter Thirty . 511
Selene
Chapter Thirty-One . 521
Sacrifice
… and they made their bed in darkness, forswearing the light,
the sun hid its face from them even as tears fell from the heavens;
for to those who pitched their tent beneath the face of the shadow,
came great tribulation, bathed in fire, leaving them bereft of hope
while they sat among the ruins in sackcloth and ashes crying
out for a salvation that would never come …

- Jillis Jossen the Mallibarr
Witness to the burning of Chessa Hollabring
at Mandiburg 342 C. E.
When Night Falls
Prelude

The tea was so hot she had to blow on it before she could sip from the small porcelain cup. Its matching, pale-blue saucer, with tiny, yellow flowers winding around its edge, rested on the tips of the fingers of her right hand. With her left hand she raised the delicate cup to her lips. She sipped lightly. The taste of orange blossoms, with a sweet, subtle hint of honey, filled her mouth. The tea’s heat warmed her as it trickled down her throat. She breathed in the fresh, cool, evening air that blew across her face as it brought the smell of mint, mixed with hibiscus, to her. And maybe , she thought, a hint of lilac and honeysuckle? The fragrances filled her nose causing her to smile brightly. Peace . This place, along with the time of day, always brought her comfort. She reclined in the oversized chair, on the veranda, as she gazed out on the lush Valley of O’lukaz. Fully leaved trees intermingled with thick stands of flowers in every conceivable color as they filled the valley below. It made for a breathtaking sight from her vantage point. The house had been built along the rim of the valley to take advantage of the beautiful view.
She loved coming out onto the veranda, leaning over the slatted railing, or just nestling into Azmatthamelle’s large chair while reveling in that view. Rocking herself slightly, she mirrored the treetops, as the wind turned, then twisted, down into the valley causing them to sway in the breeze.
“Joy of my heart.” His voice was deep, with a rich complexity, as if there were other, fainter, voices echoing behind it, just out of hearing. Caught by surprise, she nearly jumped out of the chair. As it was, she spilled some of her tea on the front of her dress. The too-white, nearly sheer fabric shimmered as the tea drizzled down its front. Then, in a brief twinkle of multi-colored light, the tea disappeared leaving no trace. It was the only thing that kept her from giving him a stern look, even if she would not have meant it.
Setting the cup lightly on its saucer she placed both on the small table nestled against the chair while rising from her seat. Turning, she looked at him as he stood in the open doorway leading from the house out onto the veranda. When her eyes fell on him it happened. He had taught her how to mask the effects of the presence so that she would not be so overcome, but sometimes she enjoyed letting herself feel it. He was one of the Glorious Ones. She was only mortal. As he walked onto the veranda, gliding with an unearthly grace that only they possessed, the presence washed over her. Joy blossomed in her chest. She had to fight to keep tears from filling her eyes. She let it wash over her. A slight moan escaped her lips as she swayed almost imperceptibly from one foot to the other. A warm hand cupped her chin then lifted it, tilting her head back ever so slightly. Opening her eyes she let her smile stretch across her entire face. By the Ancient, she was giddy!
He shook his head slightly back and forth with a rue smile of his own adorning his face. His voice rumbled from somewhere deep, almost far off. “Aas, I have taught you how to temper the effects of the Presence yet you still allow yourself to be overcome.” He was trying to sound stern and failing miserably. She almost laughed at the faint-hearted attempt.
Aas reached up, placing both of her small hands on his, turning them so that she could lay her head in them. She took a deep breath, inhaling him. “I am sorry my love. I only do it when you have been away longer than usual. My heart leaps that you have returned to me.” Ducking under his outstretched arm she threw her arms around him. Even on her tiptoes her face nestled against his body just shy of his chest.
He put his arms around her squeezing gently. She felt as if she could stay there forever. It was only when he spoke again that she could hear something different in his voice. “Aas my love, we must move quickly. I do not have time to explain fully but something has happened. I must get you to safety.”
Aas tilted her head back to look up at him. It was then that she noticed the tears, unshed, but glistening, in his eyes. Today those eyes, which he normally liked to be light brown or green, were a hard, slate gray. Her breath caught in her throat. She had never, ever , seen Az cry. Pushing back from him she really looked at him. If she had not let the presence overcome her she would have seen it as soon as he came out onto the veranda. His sleeveless, pale-green robe with blue vines embroidered along the seams was stained with dirt and blood. His long, black, woolly locks hung loose around his shoulders. There were cuts on his arms. She could see bruises that were hard to make out because of his dark brown skin. Her voice caught in her throat as she spoke, “What … what has happened Azmatthamelle? There has been violence? How is that possible?”
Azmatthamelle put one ha