Prologue
The Unmarked, Book One.
Tariah.
The young prisoner appeared unconcerned by the eight spears pointed in his direction.
Eight Guardians surrounded him, gripping their weapons with white-knuckled fists. A ninth Guardian – The Head – stepped forward and bowed before the throne.
“Your Eminence” he declared, his voice heavy with apprehension. “We’ve searched him. We could not find it”.
Queen Tariah slowly rose from her throne and approached the Constellation of Guardians. The tip of her intricately woven, silver-blonde braid reached down her back and brushed the floor as she walked. A golden band, adorned with a single tear-shaped jewel at its centre, wrapped itself around the Queen’s head. The jewel, made of polished rose-quartz, an inch in length, rested at the centre of Tariah’s forehead. A ring of similar design decorated the forefinger of the Queen’s left hand. Though the ring-jewel was much smaller and was made of emerald instead.
The Queen, standing on the dais of her throne, cast her grey-eyed gaze down at the Head of the Constellation. She raised a dark eyebrow; drawing her lips into a straight line. The Guardian did not meet her gaze. He fell to his knee in reverence. And fear.
“We’ve tried threatening him to get more information, Your Eminence. But he appears to have no family, no friends that we could use as leverage.” The Head said.
Tariah fixed her attention on the prisoner. The young man, who could not have been more than twenty years of age, met her gaze. His eyes, emerald like the ring on her forefinger, glittered through the strands of wavy brown hair that fell across his forehead. He did not seem perturbed.
“…we tried other means of retrieving the information” the Head said quickly, as if to redeem himself. “But his power does more than protect him from death”.
Tariah did not break eye contact with the prisoner. She did not like the fear this boy was inflicting on her soldiers. Guardians of the First Order were the most valiant people in all of Erom. It would be unwise to disregard their trepidation towards this prisoner. If they feared him, it meant he was truly to be feared.
“What did he do?” Tariah demanded.
The Head shook his head slowly as he spoke. “I do not know how to explain this Your Eminence… anyone who harmed him, or tried to, received the wound instead”.
The young prisoner smirked.
The Queen turned and slowly walked back to her throne, taking the time to think. This was new information to her. This Epathi was stronger and more complex in its power than she had previously thought.
It also made the boy more dangerous. This changed everything. Tariah sat down and addressed the young prisoner. “You have something that I want, Mister… Bloodwood. I am told that is what you call yourself? It is quite nontraditional. I would even say it is a meaningless name”.
When he did not respond, Tariah continued.
“Regardless. Give me what I want, and I will grant you freedom and whatever your heart desires. Keep it from me, and I will leave you in the dungeons to rot.” She regarded him, “you have my word”.
Tariah knew this was an offer he would consider. A man like this held a Stone of Power because he was in danger. He would use this opportunity to ask for protection. But the prisoner laughed, which surprised the Guardians, and irritated the Queen. She did not let it show. Her expression remained stoic.
“Your Eminence, the worst punishment your dungeons will impose upon me is boredom. Whatever suffering you or your people try to inflict will result in their own suffering.” He gave her a sly smile. “Simply ask the torturers”.
The defiance in his tone caught everyone off guard. The Guardians watched him as they would a madman. Maybe he was. But a madman with Power was infinitely more dangerous than a sane one. Tariah needed to know why he was so defiant. What could an Epathi offer a normal man that she, the Goddess of the Land, could not?
“I am offering you a lifetime of riches, immunity and protection from whatever you are running away from. Are you certain spending the rest of your life in the dungeons is worth keeping this secret?”
“You cannot offer me these things.”
The Guardians around him tensed. But they knew that there was nothing they could do to him. Poking their spears at him was more of a formality than an actual threat. If they harmed him, it would result in their own wounds.
Tariah leaned forward. “Why is that, Mister Bloodwood?”
The prisoner’s amused gaze bore into her. “Because your rule is coming to an end.”
At the sound of those words, some Guardians shuffled uncomfortably while others whispered “blasphemy” under their breaths.
But Tariah laughed. “Child. Who do you think you are to say such things?”
“Me? I’m a nobody with a meaningless name.” His amused expression sobered. “But I’ve heard things. Whispers in the shadows… Shadows borne out of the Rayless Wood”.
Tariah straightened in her seat. A sense of foreboding fell over the room.
“What kind of whispers?” She demanded. No one ever spoke lightly of the Woods. They were a plague in her land. Venturing into the Woods meant death.
The prisoner’s demeanour became serious. “Whispers of prophecies unravelling…” he trailed off. “Do you know the story of Jeziah? The man who was thrown into a furnace seven times hotter than it was meant to burn?” He paused, giving everyone in the room time to think about it. “His charred body was buried. But after some unsettling rumours concerning his appearance to the people, his grave was dug up, but his body could not be found”.
Yes. Tariah knew the story. A legend, from the Shadow Ages. One of the many that she worked to destroy when her rule had begun. Such legends were dangerous. They gave people hope for a future outside of her will.
How did this boy know a story that had been extinct for over 600 years?
“His body was stolen by his followers and an imposter claimed his name.” she said casually.
The prisoner smirked. “That’s what the Ancient Rulers said, to silence the rumours that were spreading: that the man would one day return, overthrow the Prince of Darkness, and become king of the Land”.
Tariah leaned back in her throne and waved her hand dismissively, as if brushing away a fly. “Empty promises spoken by delusional men” she scoffed. “Who is this Prince of Darkness the charred man claimed he would overthrow?”
It was the prisoner’s turn to scoff. “Your Eminence, have you been in power so long that you’ve forgotten whom you really serve?”
This angered Tariah. The conversation was getting out of hand. Bloodwood was mocking her authority. He was also revealing too many ancient secrets. Already she would have to execute all the Guardians in the room. They had heard too much.
“I serve no one” Tariah declared.
“Then you’re the delusional one” the prisoner said, but there was no humour in his tone. “Whispers speak of war. The Prince of Darkness is gathering his armies. The Dark Keepers are preparing for battle. Essence is returning for his throne. You’re nothing but a pawn in the games”.
Tariah’s jaw tensed. “You’re a madman. You know nothing.” she accused, trying to keep her composure despite her rising anger.
“I know that you’re afraid, Tariah. You sense rebellion in the air. That’s why you’re seeking the Stones of Power: The Epathi. That’s why you want me. But this fight is of another realm. And the consequences will seep into our world”.
Rage boiled inside of her. This boy was playing a dangerous game. He knew too much. He spoke of hidden secrets, forgotten for hundreds of years. And he held power. Power that she needed. Because he was right, she did sense rebellion in the air. After 600 years of peaceful rule, there was a disturbance. She was not quite sure what it was, but she needed to prepare.
“Enough! Chain him and throw him into the dungeons! I will sacrifice a thousand Guardians to see you locked away for however long it takes to break you!” Tariah took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “Heed my words Bloodwood, I will find a way to make you suffer. And I will have your secret”.
Suddenly, rather than closing in on the prisoner, the Guardians began to draw away from him in horror.
The prisoner’s flesh was disintegrating into thick black smoke.
“Your time seems to finally be running out, oh Preservation Incarnate” Wolfe announced from amid the smoke, using the title sarcastically.
Tariah sat, gripping the armrests of her throne. She watched the scene unfold, frozen in horrified fascination, until the smoke completely faded away, and all that remained of the prisoner was the faint and distant whisper of his last words echoing tauntingly in the Palace Hall.
“Tik tok, tik tok, tik tok...”
🙏 Thank you for reading The Unmarked, Book One of the Purelight Stone Trilogy. Feel free to invite more people on the journey by sharing this post.
📬 If you’d like to receive two new chapters, sent right to your inbox, every Thursday and Friday, become a Subscriber today!
🤔💬 Let me know your thoughts on this chapter by leaving a comment. I’d love to read your impressions.
💚 The Purelight Stone Trilogy is a free Substack publication today. If you feel inclined to give a contribution, know that your generosity will go toward my professional development as a writer and toward amplifying the quality of the Purelight Stone Trilogy in the coming future.
To learn more about the Purelight Stone Trilogy, here are some related posts:
Wow! That was quite a start. I love how much you background information you gave effortlessly in a single scene. The dialogue served well. Very engaging introduction to the world of your story. Love the foreshadowing, the mystery and some insight into the character of the queen. Fascinating!
OOOOOH STORY???? Really nice job twas a very entertaining read :D