Age of Ancients (Shattered Kingdoms Book 1) Read online

  Age of Ancients

  Shattered Kingdoms

  Book One

  Aaron Oster

  For my sister. You can finally read something I wrote!

  Acknowledgments

  There are many people who deserve credit for all of the time, hard work, and dedication in making this book possible. No, the list is not infinite, and I’m happy to be able to list them here!

  To my amazing editor (who shall remain unnamed). Thank you for never missing a deadline!

  To my cover artist, the wizard who created the masterpiece gracing the front of the book by somehow plucking the image from my mind.

  To my Alpha readers: Josh Robinson, Michael Tunsil, Kevin Kollman, Jonathan Land, Connor Melehan, Desmond Lewis, Brandon Decker, and Oduware Usen. Thank you for all of your amazing feedback!

  And finally, to you, the reader. Thank you for always leaving positive reviews when you’re finished reading (that was a not-so-subtle hint. Wink-Wink).

  Enjoy!

  1: Dabu

  2: The Meaning of Names

  3: Entry

  4: Real Danger

  5: Terror

  6: Skills

  7: Rematch

  8: Growth

  9: Phoenix

  10: Only One Way Out

  11: Fight or Die

  12: Uhane

  13: Team-Up

  14: Explanations

  15: Lessons

  16: Unexpected Encounter

  17: Decision

  18: Kau

  19: Pursuit

  20: Hunt

  21: Salvation

  22: Volcanic Tundra

  23: Butting Heads

  24: Drifting Clouds

  25: Departure

  26: Reunion

  27: Truth

  28: Unwilling Participants

  29: Price of Failure

  30: Painful Memories

  31: Awakening

  32: Magnetism

  33: Limitations

  34: Alpha

  35: Retribution

  36: Climb

  37: Alliance

  38: A Hairbrained Scheme

  39: Superheat

  40: A Moment’s Hesitation

  41: Madness

  42: Preparation

  43: Enter the Arc’s Den

  44: Swarm

  45: Success

  46: The Cavern

  47: Crystal Flame

  48: Arc

  49: The Only Way

  50: Uhane’s Past

  51: Bonds that Tie Us

  52: For Those Who Have Gone

  53: Supermage

  Epilogue: Onward

  Afterword

  1: Dabu

  Dabu stared at the small leafy-green head poking from the arid soil, concentrating on the singular plant as though his life depended on it. He inhaled a half-breath and felt his lungs, weakened since birth, already struggling with the strain. A trickle of sweat ran down his back, sending an unbearable itch running across his spine.

  It wasn’t the harsh sun beating high overhead that caused the perspiration or increased heart rate. No. Dabu’s heart raced with the fear of the unknown.

  Would this radish come out whole and ripe, or would he pull up the deceptively healthy head only to discover a dry, shriveled mess already consumed by writhing worms?

  The air slowly exited his straining lungs, and Dabu had to resist the urge to cough. It was a struggle he had to deal with on a near-constant basis. In fact, had his mother known he was out here, she’d have scolded him for being so reckless. With his condition, he risked aggravating his lungs any time he went outside or performed even the simplest of physical tasks.

  Still, Dabu persisted. His father and older brother were gone, leaving only him to take care of his mother and younger sister. Aho, his mother, would never admit as much, but she needed the help. Although she had Kahi, Dabu’s younger sister, she was only eleven years old and wasn’t exactly big enough to do some of the tougher work around their small plot of land.

  He, on the other hand, was almost sixteen and had it not been for his accursed lungs, he was sure he’d have been able to turn their small bit of land into a thriving farm capable of providing their needs through the dry season.

  Dabu licked his lips nervously, finally reaching out and wrapping a dark-skinned hand around the stalk. This was it, the moment of truth.

  With a sharp tug, Dabu pulled the plant from the ground. At least, he tried to. His chest tightened as his muscles flexed, constricting like bands around his lungs, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. The mere fact that this turnip was putting up a fight meant that it was most likely ripe and would be good to eat.

  Grabbing onto the leafy stalk with his other hand, Dabu rose to his feet, planting them low and wide. Then, with a monumental effort, he managed to tear the long, bulbous vegetable from the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt in its wake. He staggered, falling back on his behind, and despite the feeling of the sharp pebbles digging into his skin, Dabu couldn’t help but laugh.

  They’d be eating well tonight.

  Slowly rising to his feet, Dabu took a few moments to allow his breathing to calm and the bands around his chest to loosen. He took the time to look around, noting the towering walls around Shukka Basin, which protected their small village from the dangers of the outside world.

  The Tyrant King’s war had left the Four Kingdoms ravaged and broken, and the entire world still felt the aftershocks of his actions to this very day. However, in this small, untouched part of the world, they’d managed to stay out of the worst of it.

  Dabu heard a scream from the direction of his house, and his heart skipped a beat.

  Mother!

  Going as quickly as he could manage, Dabu took off toward the clay hut they called home.

  The gravel dug into the hardened soles of his feet, sending small plumes of dust into the air, which aggravated his lungs even further. By the time he reached their house, which was just thirty yards down the path, he felt lightheaded.

  “Leave her alone!” he shouted, skidding around the side of the hut and lunging at the man standing next to her.

  “Dabu, wait!” his mother yelled, but it was already too late.

  Dabu caught the man in a flying tackle around the waist, attempting to take him down. But, as always, the man was unmovable.

  “Back for another beating, are you, runt?” Makai asked, grabbing Dabu by the back of his tunic and hauling him clear off his feet.

  Dabu thrashed in the larger man’s grip, trying in vain to hurt him. His blows were ineffectual, merely bouncing off Makai’s skin as though he were made of stone, and he may as well have been as far as Dabu was concerned.

  Before the Tyrant King’s war, people were born with magic, awakening their true calling and full power in the blink of an eye. The gods had cursed them, and because of the man’s warmongering ways, the laws that governed their world had been forever changed. Now, anyone could acquire magic, but ‘acquire’ was the keyword in that sentence.

  To be granted the gifts that had once been readily available, one would have to go through the Trials, also known as the Trials of the Ancients by the people of the Sandstone Kingdom – or what was left of it. These Trials were put into place so that while anyone could gain magic, they would have to work for it. Additionally, no one received all of their power at once anymore, instead receiving it in stages called ranks.

  Of course, one would have to go through those Trials to receive their magic, and unfortunately for Dabu, he had not had the opportunity.

  “Leave my mother alone!” Dabu yelled, his voice coming out more like a wheeze th
an a shout as he pummeled Makai uselessly, doing more to hurt himself than the Puru.

  The Purus had come into Shukka Basin nearly a decade ago, quickly setting themselves up as the rulers of the small area. Rumor had it that their leader, Orcco, had been a soldier in the old Sandstone King’s army. However, seeing as the end of the war had left the Four Kingdoms shattered and broken nearly fifteen years ago, there was no one left to protect the citizens from the Purus’ rule.

  Makai drove a fist into Dabu’s stomach, expelling what little air had remained in his lungs, and he felt the power in that punch radiate throughout his entire body. Unlike him, Makai had passed through one of the Trials scattered around the Four Kingdoms and had attained his power. It was a Super ability, one that relied on physical might, and at rank 8, he was one of the toughest fighters in Orcco’s group.

  “Please, just let him go!” Aho begged, grabbing onto Makai’s arm. “He’s just a child. He meant no harm!”

  “How am I supposed to command respect when this little hoodlum keeps attacking me at every turn?” Makai asked, pausing in his glorified torture to address the woman.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Aho said, clutching tighter to the man’s arm. “Just please, let him go.”

  Dabu wanted nothing more than to spit in the man’s face, break every bone in his body, and drive their group from the Shukka Basin. However, it would be impossible in his current state, as it took everything he had just to keep himself breathing.

  Makai stared up at him, his arm still holding Dabu’s collar and keeping him suspended in midair.

  “Fine,” he said, unclenching his fist and allowing Dabu to drop to the ground, where he lie wheezing. “But get in my way again, and I’ll end you for good!”

  Makai followed up his threat by allowing a flicker of red lightning to crackle across his fist.

  “Oh, and I’ll be taking this,” he said, leaning down to scoop up the radish Dabu had dropped. “The Purus appreciate your contribution.”

  He walked away, laughing to himself as Dabu glared after him through teary eyes.

  “What in the name of the Fifth were you thinking, attacking him like that?” his mother snapped as soon as the man had vanished from view. “He could have killed you!”

  “Stole…Our…Food,” Dabu wheezed, though it was clear his mother was truly angry if she was invoking the Fifth.

  Everyone knew of the Four, the gods who presided over their continent and the kingdoms within. They were good and assured the protection and prosperity of their people. However, there was a fifth and evil god who wanted to see all humans wiped from the face of the world. It was said that the Tyrant King had worshiped her, though Dabu wasn’t sure how anyone, tyrant or otherwise, would risk an affiliation with someone so evil.

  His mother clucked her tongue in annoyance. “Kahi, bring the sack. Your brother has pushed himself too far again.”

  Dabu winced. He loathed the sack. It always made him feel queasy after he used it and could be dangerous if overused. But it was the only effective way to stop an attack, which was clearly what was happening now.

  His little sister, dressed in a short skirt and loose top made of old leather, came running around the corner of the thatched mound of clay they called home. She lugged a small pot full of water and held a couple of tubers in her free hand. Dabu had no idea how his mother knew she’d returned – she always seemed to know when they were around – but was grateful she was here.

  His sister ran into the house, returning a moment later with a small leather sack clutched between her fingers.

  “What did you do to yourself this time?” she asked, crouching next to him.

  She had the same tone of exasperation as Aho, a trait she’d picked up after the many times Dabu had tried to help, only to end up on the ground, struggling to stay alive.

  “He was working in the garden again,” Aho said, pushing the opening of the sack over Dabu’s mouth.

  Although it was only a partial truth, there was no need to tell the young girl what had really happened. Their lives were hard enough as it was, and there was no need to worry her unduly.

  “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” she asked as he inhaled the nauseating mix of herbs inside the sack.

  Even as he took in the sickly sweet and pungent aroma, Dabu could feel the bands around his lungs loosening, allowing air back in for the first time since Makai had punched him. The pain from that strike was still very much prevalent, and he was sure it would bruise. Luckily for him, his dark skin and thin shirt would hide it well, and so long as he could put up with the pain, Kahi would never need to know what had almost happened today.

  “I was just checking to see if there were any edible turnips,” he said, his voice sounding muffled through the bag.

  “Why didn’t you call one of us to do it?” Aho asked, all but glaring down at him.

  “Well, you were busy with the wash, and Kahi was fetching water. I thought I’d make myself useful.”

  Aho let out a long sigh, removing the sack from Dabu’s mouth and closing the neck up tight.

  “You’re practically a man, yet I feel like I need to keep treating you like a child,” she said, rubbing at her temples. “You have to stay inside, especially on hot, dusty days like this. Now, come on. Up you go.”

  Dabu got to his feet with the help of his mother and Kahi, feeling like the most useless son and older brother in the world. He knew that if his father or brother had still been around, they could have driven off the Puru and would have been able to provide for their family. Unfortunately, his mother and sister were stuck with him, and instead of him being the protector, they were the ones who needed to shelter him. He hated feeling so useless.

  They helped him inside, where they guided him into one of the rough indents carved into the wall. Inside, it was far cooler, thanks to the combination of the shade and narrow doorways that encouraged airflow. Although, in this climate, where there wasn’t much wind to begin with, that wasn’t saying much.

  Dabu watched as his mother and sister moved to the small fire pit in the center of the hut, his mother using the flat of a stone knife to crush the tubers Kahi had collected while retrieving the water. His younger sister leaned over the pit, getting a fire started by painstakingly twisting a length of wood into the fire log.

  Because of the war, all their bronze implements and weapons had been taken, sending them back to the age of stone and clay. Then again, seeing as Aho still remembered a time before the metal began to become prevalent, it really wasn’t all that long ago. However, losing over thirty years of advancement and all the wonders that had come along with it was a devastating blow, especially to a small settlement like this one.

  Now, the only bronze to be found would be in the Puru’s camp, set on the far side of the Basin. As far as Dabu had heard, they even had a cooking pot, something that he was sure his mother would have loved. Instead, they were stuck using a clay bowl, which they couldn’t heat too far, for fear of cracking the only vessel they had.

  Dabu shifted in his seat to go help as his mother rose, having dropped the tubers into the bowl. It took only a single glare to get him to relax once again.

  Okay, he thought. Maybe I’ll just sit here for a little bit longer.

  2: The Meaning of Names

  “Do you have any idea how close you came to dying today?” Aho asked, the light of the dying fire reflecting the unshed tears in her eyes.

  “No closer than any other,” Dabu replied, crossing his arms and staring back at her.

  Kahi was fast asleep on the other side of the room, her back rising and falling in a steady rhythm, so they had to be careful to speak in hushed tones.

  “You need to stop being so reckless,” his mother said. “You can’t stand up to them. You’re not strong enough!”

  “I would be, if you let me go into the Trials,” Dabu shot back.

  A long moment of silence stretched between them. It was finally broken by Aho, who let out a snort of di
sgust.

  “Have you forgotten what happened to your father and Toka?” she asked, the lines above her brow deepening. “They were both fit and strong, but do you see them sitting here with us?”

  Dabu bit his lip from firing back an angry retort. Aho didn’t have to say what she thought out loud. The insinuation was more than enough. Both his father and brother had attempted the Trials, yet neither had returned. Unlike him, both of them had been strong men, fit for battle. His father had been gone for over ten years, having finally left to attempt the Trials after Orcco and his men had gone too far and killed one of the village families.

  He’d promised to return in a month, the length of time it took to complete a Trial. However, he never had. Dabu’s older brother, Toka, had left nearly four years ago and was last seen heading into the Trials to try and forge a better life for their family. He had never returned either, and although Dabu had once hoped that they would one day make a miraculous return, life had taught him differently.

  “I don’t want to hear about those accursed Trials anymore,” Aho said after the silence had dragged on for several minutes. “We’ve managed to survive until now, and we will continue to do so as long as we stay together and keep our heads down.”

  “How can we survive if they keep stealing our food?” Dabu exclaimed. “We’re barely making it by as is, and they take almost everything we manage to grow!”

  “Quiet!” his mother hissed as Kahi stirred.

  The two of them watched her for several moments, making sure she’d settled down before continuing to speak in lowered tones.

  “We can always ask for food if we need it,” Aho said. “Our neighbors are understanding. They—”

  “And how much longer can we depend on their generosity?” he shot back, interrupting his mother. “I’ve seen the way they look at us, and I know how they talk behind our backs. It’s only a matter of time before they refuse us aid, and then what?”

  “Let me worry about that,” his mother said. “I’m your mother, so it’s my responsibility to provide for you, not the other way around.”