Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Read online

  MYTHIA

  and the Awakened Beast

  Margie Mandell

  Kindle Direct Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Margie Mandell

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 9798655113657

  Cover design by: Margie Mandell and Canva

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  MYTHIA is dedicated to all who have supported me throughout the writing and editing process

  And every single reader who kept me inspired to keep on going.

  Special dedication to:

  My children- Sapphire, Luna, Rosie, James, and Simon.

  My siblings- Chris, Justin, Theresa, Mary, and Tim.

  My parents- Lewis and Freda.

  My friends who have been giving me the most helpful feedback for both the story and the cover...

  And all fans of Mythia both new and old.

  Thank you all.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1- CHANGES

  2. THE KING AND THE SON

  3. THE HIDDEN CITY

  4. WARNING BELLS

  5. GUILT OF THE QUEEN

  6. THE AWAKENING

  7. THE ARMY OF A THOUSAND MEN

  8. THE REJICIO LEADER

  9. THE EMPTY CROWN

  10. RELINQUISHED MEMORIES

  11. THE DRAGON

  12. THE GIFTS OF THE REJICIO

  13. THE PLAN

  14. THE BOUNTY HUNTERS

  15. PATER’S BLESSING

  16. THE TOURNAMENT

  17. THE BATTLE

  18. THE STORM

  19. THE PHOENIX AND THE UNICORN

  20. THE FALLEN KING

  21. PAX

  22. JOURNEY

  23. THE BOAT

  COMING SOON

  Books By This Author

  1- CHANGES

  The queen awoke from deep within the forest. Opal light streamed down through the bright green leaves, like smoke cascading in ribbons. She stretched, feeling the seemingly permanent sting of pain from her left side searing across her burnt, disfigured skin. She pulled herself up with emaciated arms, the shape of her body engraved on the ground with dead, rotting grass. With the hot, humid air of summer filling her lungs, she took a step forward. Each step pierced through her shriveled muscles, jarring her brittle bones.

  The soft morning light landed upon and shimmered against the thin silver crown that somehow stayed precariously on her chestnut hair. Crisscrossing triangles formed this crown, the symbol of the City of Trigonus, the heart of the Kingdom of Terra, which she now held reign over as their new queen.

  She clutched at the rolled-up parchment in her hands, the only proof she had that the summer had not been an illusion caused by the fever that plagued her over the past never-ending weeks. Somehow, she had made it out alive, barely managing to keep herself watered and fed just enough to survive. With one last heartfelt squeeze of the parchment, she slipped it into a deep pouch slung around the leather belt she had made from her burnt and torn wedding gown. A beautiful black sheath engraved with golden dragons hung on it as well, bouncing against her hip with each step that she took. An elegant yet ironic reminder of her father’s ultimate sacrifice. His final gift. The rest of the silk and leather material from her wedding gown was sewn into black layered pants and tunic, and a green leather vest, using a wooden needle she had whittled from a stick.

  Her thin legs carried her to the stream that had become her life source, keeping her hydrated and clean throughout the blistering, humid summer. She cupped her hands together and emerged them deep within the flowing water. Bringing her hands up to her mouth, she drank deeply. The water was cool and refreshing. Just as she was about to plunge her hands back in, a thin ribbon of red flowed steadily down the stream. She glanced up toward the direction it had come from. A jet-black horse lay strewn across the stream a dozen yards away, crimson red spilling from a gruesome gash in its long neck. She carefully walked into the water and up the stream, brown dirt from her leather shoes mixing with the red until she was close enough to gently place a hand on the injured animal's silky head. He thrashed around at her touch, the blood pulsing out from his wound.

  “Shh,” she soothed the wild beast. She carefully hovered her palms over the wound and closed her eyes. A spark of warmth emitted from deep within her, flowing out of her hands in the form of a blindingly white light. It landed upon the animal’s gash and covered it in a dazzling opalescence. The opening shrank until it completely closed and the bleeding stopped. She cupped some water into her hand and rinsed the remaining blood until his coat was all black again. “How long have you laid here suffering, my friend?” Her voice sounded small surrounded by the tall, maple and oak trees. It was the first time she had used it in weeks.

  The wild steed quickly grew fond of the queen. She made reins out of the tall grasses and taught him to carry her. She named him Noctis, for he was as black as the darkest time of night. Slowly, day by day, they grew strong together, feasting off wild berries and deer meat. Just as the leaves began to succumb to the change of fall, greens merging smoothly into shades of orange, yellow, and red, they left the forest for the first time.

  They tore across long rippling grass, autumn colored leaves swirling in the cool breeze behind his galloping hooves. It had been a long night of riding and the pain in Mythia’s side threatened to pull her down, but she knew they needed to be in the cover of the woods again before they could stop to rest. They made it to the edge of the Borra Forest just as the sun reached above the horizon.

  Ten minutes down the forest trail, Noctis threw his head back and neighed loudly, kicking his legs in front of him. Mythia yanked at the reins to settle him down. The sound of hooves and voices came trundling through the white, birch trees, bouncing around the forest. She paused for a moment, listening, before sidling Noctis between a thick layer of branches. She stroked his mane, keeping him quiet and calm.

  “Might as well get a hefty bit of gold for this, Merek,” a gruff voice hissed out on top of crunching leaves. Mythia leaned toward the voices, listening closely.

  “But do you really think the king will pay up?” Merek answered back. His voice was slower than the other’s.

  The other man chuckled darkly. “I'm sure we could persuade him for our catch. What do you reckon this lot will be worth, eh?”

  “Dunno, maybe ten gold coins a piece. The girl gave me a turn when she lit that fire. Not even sure the boy has an ounce in 'im, Borin,” Merek responded. As their voices crept closer to the spot where Mythia and Noctis hid, she could start to see their shapes merging from between the white branches. A red leaf fell gently down to the ground, joining the pile of scarlet beneath her feet.

  Two men on top of brown horses, both dressed in a strange assortment of mis-matched chainmail meandered into her vision. As they slowly made their way down the dirt path strewn with colorful leaves, Mythia could see that their pair of steed were pulling a large, ivory covered wagon.

  “I took the boy ‘cause he got in the way,” Borin responded acidly. “He wouldn’t let his sister go without a fight.”

  Merek's chainmail glistened in the streaming rays of sunlight as he turned quickly around to his com
panion, an angry look on his face. “We're only supposed to capture donatus, not just anyone that gets in our way!” Mythia inched closer, suddenly filled with curiosity.

  The wagon had a roof and sides made up of thin, white cotton sheets. Two, child sized shadows leaned against each other within, unmoving.

  Borin smirked at his friend. “We tell the king the boy's got power. He hangs 'em both, we collect double the allowance.”

  Merek's face lit up slowly with understanding. “Ah, always thinkin' you are Borin, always thinkin'!” Merek started to laugh. Borin joined him with a loud guffaw and they slapped each other on the backs, apparently very pleased with themselves. Mythia raised a finger to her lips at Noctis and gave him a quick pat. She bent down and quietly slid across the leaf strewn floor, quickly assessing the situation.

  “What are you going to do with the money, anyway?” Borin suddenly asked. Mythia slipped between the trees and hopped silently across the dirt path, keeping a steady pace behind the moving wagon.

  Merek grinned mischievously. “First stop's the tavern once I got my gold. Buy me some good mead and a lady, if you get my drift.” Mythia crouched down and hopped stealthily onto the back of the wagon, biting her knuckles to stop herself from crying out from the pain that tore through her side.

  Borin tutted. “Ah, what a waste. You need to save your money see, Borin. Every donatus we pick up gives us more gold.” He rubbed his fingers together as Mythia carefully lifted the back curtain.

  A young boy and younger girl sat inside, leaning against each other, in a deep sleep. Mythia slipped one foot after the other upon the carriage floor. She very gently shook them awake and lifted a finger to her lips as they fluttered their eyes opened. The little girl gasped.

  “And once we get enough gold,” continued Borin, “we use it to buy us a nice big, castle.” Mythia stroked the little girl's hair, to keep her calm. The boy looked at her questioningly, his eyebrow raised. Both children had brown hair and looked to be no older than eight or nine.

  “A nice big castle with a hundred servants!” Merek exclaimed. Mythia slowly stood up, keeping her back bent beneath the canopy. She held on to one of each of the children's hands and pulled them toward the back of the wagon.

  “Yeah, and tankards of mead!” The two men laughed boisterously again. Mythia lifted the flap and squatted down. She looked at the two children to make sure they were ready to jump from the moving wagon, which bumped up and down steadily through the woods. They hopped down to the dirt path, the little boy losing his footing along the way, and toppled over with a loud shuffling. The laughing stopped immediately.

  “What was that?” Merek asked. The wagon halted in its tracks. Mythia's heart raced as she urged the children to stand up, while the men slid off their horses. She ducked her head and pulled them as fast as their little feet would take them into the white and red forest.

  Borin peeked inside the wagon's canopy, then flung it open wide. “They're gone!” His voice bellowed and rang throughout the woods. Mythia grasped more tightly to the children’s small hands as they headed toward Noctis.

  She could hear the men arguing loudly as she lifted the children on top of the black silky horse and pulled herself up to sit behind them. She yanked at the reins and forced Noctis to turn around, but the wild stallion was not familiar with the extra weight upon his back, and whinnied loudly, running straight back onto the path directly to the two men and the wagon.

  “No, no, no,” Mythia mumbled frantically, pulling hard at the reins. The children clung onto each other with all their might as they trundled through the trees.

  Noctis burst out from between the birch woods and the men stood there, completely dumbfounded, their jaws hanging wide open.

  “There they are!” Borin shouted, throwing his finger out toward them.

  “Who in the bloody hell is that?” Merek yelled in confusion.

  “I don't care, just GET THEM, you idiot!” Borin demanded. They scrambled over to jump back on their horses as Noctis squeezed straight past them, flying down the path. Mythia hugged on tightly to the children with one arm, her other hand still clinging to the reins as Noctis went full speed dodging between the ivory trees, scarlet leaves flying behind him.

  They raced down the path faster than Noctis had ever ran. After they were about a mile into the woods, Mythia glanced quickly behind them. The two men were nowhere to be seen. She assumed they had trouble turning their bulky wagon around in the narrow path. She let out the breath she had been holding in.

  “We're okay,” she said calmly to the children. “I think we lost them.”

  The girl had tears falling down her round cheeks, but the boy turned to Mythia, his face set and brave. “Thank you.”

  Mythia smiled at him. “No problem, really. What are your names?” They came to a fork in the path and she tugged at the reins, turning Noctis left to travel farther north. She loosened her hold on the children as they trudged along more gently.

  “I'm Terrowin and this is my little sister, Satis. What's yours?”

  “Mythia.” She smiled warmly down at them.

  Terrowin's mouth opened in a gasp as his eyes slid up to the silver crown on Mythia's head. “You're... you're Queen Mythia?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am.” Mythia frowned, feeling an odd sense at the title.

  Terrowin's face was suddenly full of fear as he leaned back away from her. “Stop the horse.”

  “What, why? I'm rescuing you, not kidnapping you,” Mythia responded, chuckling slightly.

  Terrowin's face was set. “Stop the horse. Now.” Mythia obliged unwillingly. Terrowin grabbed his sister and pulled her off the horse, stumbling onto the fallen leaves. They stood up, wiping off their tunics and faced Mythia, Terrowin holding tightly to his sister who was burying her face in his chest. He glared at her. “You’re lying. You’re evil, there’s no way you are trying to help us.”

  Mythia frowned and looked back and forth between the two. “What are you talking about?”

  The boy pointed a shaky finger at her. “You. You bewitched the king so you could take his crown!” Terrowin yelled, a fierceness echoing in his voice. “And now everything is ruined… nothing will be the same ever again. And it’s all your fault, Queen Mythia!”

  “All of what is my fault?” Mythia asked slowly. He scowled at her one last time before grabbing his sister's hand and running off between the thickness of the trees. Mythia stared at the spot they just left, her mouth hanging slightly opened.

  Noctis whinnied, growing impatient standing still. Mythia smoothed his long dark mane, a feeling of deep hurt growing inside of her chest. She was used to being different from everyone else, but not used to being treated like she was cursed. Mythia was, after all, the only person in the kingdom of Terra born without a birth mark on her left shoulder of either a black dragon, a phoenix, or a unicorn. She was also the only human to have all three gifts of each mythical beast.

  Thousands of years ago, humans were all gifted with magic by the great Spiritus. But because some chose to use their gifts for evil, an negative entity was formed, who was known as the Tenebris. The Spiritus decided to separate the three gifts and give each person the mark that most represented their special powers. A thousand years later, most people forgot about the legends of the gifts, and their powers went away along with the legends. Very rarely did someone possess a form of magic, but since magic was now punishable by instant death, anyone with gifts was either killed or kept them hidden. The Spiritus promised to bring forth someone without a mark that possessed all three gifts, plus a fourth one, to defeat the evil Tenebris and bring peace to the kingdom once and for all.

  It was only a few months ago when Mythia discovered this fate belonged solely to her. She went on a journey with her friends to find three golden scrolls that were meant to help her with her destiny. But the king fell in love with her not knowing she possessed magic nor that she was unmarked. He married her, and crowned her queen of Terra. On the day of their wed
ding he discovered who she really was… and she in turn discovered that he was tainted by the Tenebris and possessed by an evil entity who called himself the Dragon King. The Dragon King burned half her body with his magical flame upon discovery of her true self. She fled and hid in the forest at death’s door, for the entire summer, never knowing what had happened after she had left.

  And now apparently everything in the kingdom had changed, and according to the children she rescued, the people believed it was all her fault. What had happened during the hot, rainy weeks of summer to bring such hatred into a child’s innocent heart? What reason did the king give to his people as to why his wife fled so suddenly, her wedding dress torn and covered in blood, from the city of Trigonus? Mythia frowned, turning around to face the south, where Trigonus and the king’s castle lay at the other end of the woods. Just keep going, the answers are coming, she told herself. She pulled at the reins and Noctis gave a great neigh as they ran off through the northern woods.

  The wind blew with a bitterness in the northern woods of Terra- the Borra Forest. The sun had sunk down beneath the horizon, along with the bits of warmth it once carried. Mythia rubbed her hands together, leaning closer to the crackling fire. She watched as the flames danced in their ominous way, the white and yellow twisting and snapping, emerging into bright ocherous orange. Smoke streamed up like ribbons between the tall, thin trees.

  The long ride had made her weary and achy. The words that the children she had rescued, if she could even call it that, rang inside of her head, causing a heat to fill her face that was unrelated to the fire. “You're evil... all of this is your fault, Queen Mythia!” Has she truly caused more problems than she realized by the choices she made? But what choice did I have? Mythia thought bitterly, throwing a stone into the fire. It wasn't even the king himself that I attacked... it was someone else... The Dragon King. Mythia shuddered as the image of King Tribus fighting against his internal demon invaded inside of her head, as vivid and real as the night it happened. Their wedding day. The summer solstice. She had been having nightmares of that horrifying night in the king's chambers, the very few times she sleeps deeply enough to dream.