The Art of Magic Realm of the Castles

The Art Of Magic

Realm of the Castles

Book One of

The Art of Magic

Series

Written by

Sharon Wheater

Copyright 2013 Sharon Wheater

Smashwords Edition

This book is purely fictional. Any resemblance to

Actual persons is purely coincidental.

Chapter One.

My name is Serenity and it is about the only thing I am certain of. Darkness dominates my life but it was not always like this. It’s cold and damp in my cell and what for others is a nightmare is reality for me. Torture, fear, pain, that is normal everyday life here. I was ten years old when I was captured but I thought imprisonment was for criminals but I am not a criminal. I was a young child when I was abducted so how could I be? What crime could a ten year old child perform that would warrant such a sentence of hell?

My captors are the criminals. No child should be subjected to what we have to endure. The sound of the cell door opening brings upon the feeling of doom for me and the other children being held here. The acrid stench of death surrounds us it’s a smell no child should be able to identify with. The guards have their own stench, a musky odour and I hate it, it makes me sick especially when they are too close!

As I said, life was not always like this I lived on a beautiful lush green island in the southwest part of the Emerald Ocean called Shell Bay. Tropical white sandy beaches and palm trees surround our island.

Shell Bay is a peaceful place with people who like us who farmed, fished or hunted. I spent most of my time on the beach when I was not learning or helping my father on the farm.

I lived in a modest house my family were not poor. That maybe why I have been abducted, until my parents had paid a high ransom but I cant understand why I have not yet been returned? Maybe my parents do not want me back.

I try to remember our house; we had a lovely cosy sitting room with a powder blue sofa and chairs. My father had rows of books on shelves around the room; he really loved to read. The open fire was so homely; I always like to watch the flames dancing in the fireplace. After staring into the fire for a while, I often thought I could see things: people, animals, and other lands, my imagination had always been great until now.

My bedroom was on the second floor. I had lilac drapes and bed covers, stuffed toys, dolls, carved wooden animals and books. I had everything a child could want.

Every mealtime we would sit at the table and listen to stories regaled by my father; he would tell us of how the Southern King protected us from the Northern King and the evil that hailed from within his vast territory.

My favourite story was the legend of the Sorcerers and their mystical Keep that used to stand within the North; and how it was reduced to rubble when the previous good northern king died. He told us how King Illumini, the new King had murdered his own father and had taken his throne. The North was never the same place, King Illuminis’ father had been a good man and loved his people, and his son however was not. He was evil; he turned a once prosperous land into one of sadness, death and slavery.

The six sorcerers were the most powerful people in our world; they controlled the balance of good and dark magic. However, they mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Before their disappearance: they were people of great importance and sought out by magicians and non-magicians alike for their unbound knowledge. No one knows what happened to them; they just seemed to have vanished without a trace. A lot of speculation surrounded the new Northern King, rumours of murder, torture and destruction. The Keep is now just a ruin and only wild stories remain about the fate of the sorcerers.

Our happy simple existence was never even compromised by the cold season, it lasted for five months, we were lucky that we never saw snowfall. A few smaller islands surrounded us and they also were home to good people like us totally different to the mainland which was vast, I never visited the mainland even though I used to dream of doing so.

The south of the mainland houses the southern castle and its lush green lands. There are villages dotted around and people lived in harmony with each other. A mountain range that is known to be dangerous to cross because of the terrain separates the North and South of the mainland.

Another of my fathers’ stories told of a clan of men who lived within the harsh mountains. No one knows who they are, where they came from or why they are there. People love to create stories about these men, and womenfolk tend to cling to the air of romance surrounding the tales.

What I miss the most is my horse Blaze she was my best friend, we had several horses, but Blaze was my own. The other horses were workhorses for ploughing the fields and taking the wagon to market so we could sell our wares.

I used to spend hours riding bareback around the fields, chasing my two older brothers and pretending we were soldiers. Rarely a day past when I didn’t play the hero soldier and my brothers the bandits. I would wield my wooden sword, slashing and imagining being the greatest warrior in the lands. I became very proficient in swordplay thanks to my brothers.

I miss the dense palm forest where I would climb the trees and await the arrival of my brothers, they would be searching for me after I had given them a good thrashing with my sword. I would wait until they were below the tree I had climbed and I would drop a coconut on their heads.

I long for my home as does everyone else held captive here in this miserable place. Happy memories burn in my heart, but memories are all I have now. My carefree innocence has been snatched from me, I will never get that back. All I have now is the slither of hope that one day I will be rescued and taken away from this dreadful prison.

The memory of my parents smiling faces are beginning to fade away as the days pass. Those tiny rays of memory grow dull as the darkness envelopes them too. I try to picture them as much as possible so as my memories do not abandon me but this grows more and more difficult every day; but soon I fear they will be lost forever.

I have been locked in this cave now for what seems like years. Its so hard to figure out how long I have been here as the darkness subdues the mind into a zombie like state of existence, not living but not quite dead either. The darkness doesn’t change so we cannot tell the difference between day and night.

The screams in here are unbearable, nor can I bare the silence, I am often overcome with a sickening feeling of wanting to take my own life so as I can escape this place of utter despair. I once tried to hold my breath, it was a long time ago, at that point I didn’t know that your brain would not allow you to stop yourself from breathing, silly now when I think back.

I do not know how old I am, I must be around sixteen or seventeen by now. My hair trails below my waist but it is matted lank and filthy, my skin is greasy and covered in filth. I can feel my bones jutting through the dirty rag I wear that does nothing to help from the cold and damp that surrounds me.

It seems that my years in here have been so soul destroying that we have given up on the thought of ever being free and seeing the light of day again. The only significant thing in life now is survival, death by choice is not an option, we know we are doomed to die, we just don’t know when. Many times, I find myself wishing for death to come and take me, but it never does. I would prefer to choose my own death and not give the guards the satisfaction of choosing for me.

I share my small damp cell with two other girls. There are many other cells along the passage outside our door; we hear the yells, moan’s and screams of the others all the time. The moans and screams are often followed with the sounds of beatings and shouts of shut up, quiet, or threats of death and violence from the guards. My cellmates and I tend to stay quiet as we do not want to call for any severe penalty.

The day of my capture is still very vivid in my mind. I was wandering alone on the beach not far from my home, as I often did. I paddled close to the waters edge and felt the waves lapping at my ankles. It was a beautiful sunny day, the green blue ocean stretched out for miles and I felt my feet sinking in the soft white sand below.

I noticed a small shiny object on the sand. I bent down to pick it up when I felt an agonising blow hit the back of my head. The scenery spun and became blurred, my body became heavy and unresponsive then I descended into a black pit of nothingness.

I awoke in the dark, the room seemed to be rocking or it may have been the result of the knock to my head. However, it was not. I could hear the cries of others around me. It was dark but as my eyes began to focus and I could see small rays of light entering the room. It seemed to be coming in through what looks like wooden planks behind me. I reached behind and felt smooth wood; I began to bang on the wood when a small hand stopped me.

It’s no good doing that. Said a females voice,

Outside of the wall is the ocean, there is no escape.

I said nothing as I didn’t have anything to say.

I put my hand to the back of my head and felt a sticky patch that I could only surmise was blood from the cut caused by the blow to my head. I felt disorientated and nauseous, I strained my eyes to see clearer but it was pointless because I was probably seeing double anyway.

Where am I? I asked the girl who spoke to me a moment ago.

Your guess is as good as mine but I know we are on a ship. She replied.

Where are we going? I asked.

I have no answers for you. I don’t know. I’m sorry. She sounded sincere and sad, her voice older than mine; she must be around fourteen or so. I reached out and held her hand, she was cold and shaking, she held my hand in return. A small comfort in a terrible situation.

A noise from above caused a commotion, people shoving forwards and towards the noise. A hatch above opened and light poured in causing us to cover our eyes because of the brightness. I could see the shape of men through my shielded eyes even though they watered terribly. They began to throw down sacks, and everyone scrambled to grab one. In the mayhem I could not move, I was sore and still disorientated, my head spun and I felt very ill. I managed to try and look around at my environment in the light that shone down thanks to the open hatch.

My heart stopped as I saw the dead bodies of children older and younger than me strewn all over the floor, their bodies contorted and their eyes wide open. I retched and the feeling of panic gave way to sheer terror at the thought of what lay ahead if I made it that far alive.

I began to think of my family and my home a thousand scenarios played in my mind, what was happening? Where was I going? Would I live or die? My mind was brought back to reality when I felt a hand grab the back of my dress and pull me backwards, back towards the side of the ship and I tried to get comfortable.

The girl who held my hand had pulled me back to sit in a better position and she gave me food from a sack she was holding. I watched the light disappear as the hatch above closed back up and we were plunged back in to darkness.

You have to eat, said the girl’s voice. She put a crust of bread in my hand. I tried to eat but even moving my jaw hurt like hell and it was so stale.

It hurts, I complained.

I know but eat now cos you never know when you will get any more.

The girl introduced herself as Sarah; she was from one of the islands far down the southern end, near to the frozen lands. The frozen lands lay many miles by sea below ours. She told me of her ordeal so far and like myself, and the others on board this ship held in here, knew nothing of why this was happening.

The big room below deck where we were prisoners had a putrid odour, the smell of rotting corpses. We seemed to be sailing for weeks, we watched the daylight fade to night so many times through the cracks in the deck above and slithers of light that shone through the wooden sides of the ship, that we lost count in the end.

Sarah kept me sane and we talked for hours. We tried to help nurse the sick and injured children around us but to no avail. The death rate was quite high; we lost one or two children everyday. No matter how many times we felt the life of an inmate slip away it did not get any easier to cope with.

I knew about death but I didn’t know that children died too. I know some of the elder folk died of old age or illness but never a child.

We stopped a few times on the journey, and each time more and more children were crammed onto the ship. They never removed the dead; the new comers were forced to sit on them. There was no space left on the floor. It was no longer a ship but a floating tomb.

The nights were long and I found myself crying a lot along with all the other children. The cries of the children will haunt me forever. I tried to focus on my parents, on their happy faces to comfort myself.

I tried to picture my father in his brown work trousers that match his brown eyes and his patchwork green tunic always covered in bits of hay and straw, his dark hair swept back. My mother has kind rosy cheeks, blue shiny eyes. I can still picture her wearing her long pale blue flowing dress and white apron, such a kind gentle woman. I want to go home.

After what seemed like eternity the ship stopped, we were then dragged off onto small boats that were rowed towards a rugged shoreline. I clung to Sarah, never letting go of her hand. Once ashore we were shoved and pushed along the rocks. My shoes were getting too small as I had been growing fast and I could feel blisters under the tight buckles.

I stumbled and fell lacerating my knees and hands but Sarah pulled me back to my feet as we rushed along to a path leading up to a cave just out of reach of the tide. We were hurried along, some of the other children fell and the guards who marched us; beat them and made them run to catch up.

Blood streamed from my cuts, most of the other children were bleeding and cut, but we dare not cry as we witnessed the atrocities endured by a small girl who cried after tripping.

I reached out my hand for a little girl who looked no more than six whom was stumbling along beside me. The three of us stayed together.

We entered the mouth of the cave and a horrid smell hung in the air. We heard the cries of other children coming from behind big doors along the passageway. The guards were shouting at us to hurry along. The passageways were a large network of tunnels underneath a large cliff.

The sight of the angry grey ocean, the crashing of the waves against the rocks across the shoreline is the last memory I have of proper daylight. The coastline I saw was not one I have seen before, the jagged rocks littered with seaweed, the spray of the angry ocean, this is a million miles from the calm greenie blue waters of my home. Again, I yearned to be there with my family.

I was bundled into a cell along with Sarah and the young girl I had kept hold of, she told me her name is Melarnia. The cell was damp dark and had a putrid odour, I could not see anything because it was so dark but I could here the scurrying of rat’s and felt things brush past my now bare feet. The cell was worse than I could have imagined; even the worst of castle dungeons couldn’t be this terrible.

Now we have been in these caves for what seems like a tortured lifetime. We were fed morsels of stale food everyday and barely enough water to sustain life. We did not waste water on cleaning ourselves, as it was a rare commodity. It really was of no difference to us, we were as filthy as each other and the smell of rotting flesh was far more potent than unwashed bodies. I suppose you can only get so dirty!

We do have a small lantern in our cell; the candle is lit every day but only for a short length of time whilst we eat. We were given a long raggy dress to wear, no underwear though, and we had each a blanket that made us itch.

When we do get out of the cell into a small area at the bottom of one of the passages, we enter a yard, with tall rocky walls; we see nothing other than the walls and the sky which is far above. This happens once every so often, the fresh air feels so good but the light hurts our eyes dreadfully.

Across the yard is a place we never like to be taken, this is where they perform atrocities on us. We are tortured and made to do things that imagination would not dare to comprehend.

We often heard blood curdling screams ring out during our awake times but then a sudden silence, then what seems like the last gurgling of a person’s breath as they died. We could often hear the dead body of the unfortunate person being dragged along the passageways.

At other times we could hear the footsteps of children being ushered down the passageways as we once were, they were the new inmates here. It happened on and off the poor things could never imagine their fate.

Over the past period, I should think amounting to weeks or maybe a month or two, I have been having vivid dreams, dreams of a shell, pink, and white, it has an iridescent like sheen.

It began whilst I slept one night but now I have brought it into my daydreams, when I am feeling afraid, I think of this shell. It takes me away to another part of my mind, especially whilst being tortured and whipped. It seems to give me an escape, I hear the ocean, the sea birds, and I am sure I have heard a voice whisper to me but it is too quiet to make out what it is saying.

I was taken to a room yesterday. In the room was a wall full of leather straps, various other torture implements and from the ceiling hung manacles from a thick brown coloured rusty chain. There are whips and a set of steel clippers, I know what the clippers are for, I have seen the evidence lay on the ground, fingers and toes; it always makes me shudder and pray that I don’t suffer the same fate.

I was hung by the wrists, the men were shouting at me to free myself from the manacles. How am I expected to do that, it is crazy. The guards try forcing us to do things that are not possible.

We do not know what they want; but I am sure if we did; it is not something we would give them, and because I could not perform the tricks that they required from us, they whipped me with a large whip, and it had tiny spikes attached to the end of it. After the first searing pain of the lash struck my skin, I began to think of the shell. I pushed my mind to another place, one of safety, I felt nothing only peace.

I awoke, I must have passed out. Sarah sat stroking my filthy face; I opened my eyes and felt nothing but stinging pain where the skin on my back must have split from the beating. I flinched with pain as I tried to sit up.

Don’t move Serenity, just try and rest. Sarah’s voice was so full of compassion, Does it hurt terribly?

I nodded my head; I could just make out her face in the glow of the lantern. It was nearly burnt out so I must have missed food.

I saw the sky, the light of the day for a few moments, I breathed in the fresh air, and it was worth the pain. I sobbed.

What did they do to you? Melarnia asked

I don’t know, I must have passed out. They keep screaming for me to open the manacles where they chain me, and I cannot do that, that would be like magic, I can’t do magic. I kept telling them I couldn’t so they beat me. I must have passed out quickly though, I only remember the first lash of the whip.

Oh you poor thing. Sarah looked so worried.

I’m okay. I replied.

I sat upright, slowly, but I managed it. The wounds in my back burned with every movement of my body. I cannot take this kind of torture much longer, please death, why cheat me, come and take me away from this pain and suffering.

I sat back against the wall of my cell; the damp walls cooled the burning of my flesh. I tried to imagine once more the shell that was my escape. In my mind I looked upon the shell, I wished for death and hoped that it would grant me my need. I began to hear a voice.

Hold on, please do not give up!

I was suddenly jolted from my dream, I heard that voice very clearly, and it was the soft voice of a man. A maelstrom of wonder circled in my mind.

Did you hear that? I asked my cellmates.

Hear what? Sarah asked confused.

That voice, did you hear that voice? I said with a little excitement.

Serenity, you must be delirious after the beating you had yesterday, lie down and rest. Sarah put her hand on my forehead.

No, no, I heard it; it told me not to give up. I lay back down still exhausted, but I know what I heard.

I awoke abruptly to the sound of the door lock clunking open. I shrunk up against the wall, Sarah and Melarnia huddled up with me trying to disappear into the walls of the cave cell. The dull orange glow of the candles in the passageway outside cast an eerie shadow of three men in the doorway. One of the guards entered and carried with him a torch, I could feel warmth of the flame on the torch but its brightness burned my eyes as he came nearer. Fear knotted in my stomach; I saw beetles and rats scurry across the floor away from the light.

We clung together trying to hold back our tears as the musky odour of the approaching guard fills our senses. Not again, please not again!

Reaching out he grabbed my hair and yanked me across the stony floor, I felt the skin on my bony legs tear. He pulled my head up and two men stood and looked at me.

Is this the one you are looking for, we cannot search any more of the cells, it’s more than my life is worth and your money cannot buy my life back. The guard growled. I would probably say that she is the one you search for, she is the one we have not broken.

One of the other men stepped forwards and the guard stepped back. I fell to the floor. The other man did not smell of the musk that our captors did. He asked for the torch to be held so he could see, his voice sounded different, well spoken. The man felt the back of my neck, just at the hairline, he paused for a second feeling my birthmark.

I can’t be sure. The man said. We will take her.

The Slave trade! My first thought, I had heard of this over the years when my father told me stories of children sold to rich and bad people. I am going to be worked to death.

I suppressed my desire to scream out and cry; I was not going to give the guard and the two other men the satisfaction of knowing my fear and pain.

The guard dragged me out of my cell; I could hear Sarah and Melarnia screaming my name and crying as my frail bony frame was manhandled and dragged over the rough floor of the passageways.

We finally stopped outside a small entrance to the cave that I have not seen before. I felt my legs burning with pain, adding to the pain on my back. I slumped to the floor. Straining my eyes in the sunlight, I watched my two new captors hand over a bag of what I think was gold.

I need you to give me information when I return, your help in the rescue of these children will be rewarded, don’t let us down. Or you know the consequence; Sabien will have your head! One of the two men threatened.

The guard agreed and quickly disappeared back into the cave entrance like a cockroach scurries under a stone.

Did I hear that correctly? The rescue of the children, no, I must have heard wrong, I can only wish and hope.

I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with the fresh sea air, I was stinging and sore all over and my eyes were watering because of the bright light of the sun. I suddenly coughed violently, my lungs were not used to such pure air, it’s been a long time since my lungs were filled with fresh pure sweet smelling air.

The two men helped me to my feet, a gesture to me that I found to be kind after my previous treatment. They helped me through the rocky outcrop that led up above the cave entrance and onto the grass; it felt cool and soft on my now calloused feet. The grass was soothing, my legs could barely hold me but I did not want to take my feet from this wonderful cool grass. I enjoyed the cool sensation for as long as I could.

We shortly arrived at a carriage with two horses harnessed to the front. I stepped backwards, I wanted to turn and bolt away but I did not have the strength and the stony ground in which we now stood hurt my bare feet once more. The grip of the two men tightened a little but not enough to cause me pain.

Its ok, you’re safe now. One of the men tried to comfort me.

I looked carefully at his clothes, I hoped he did not see me look; he was dressed like a soldier. He was huge, his blonde hair tightly cropped at the back and sides but longer on top. The uniform was black; he had a silver stripe down his leg and silver buttons on his tunic and carried a big sword. The other man wore the same clothes but he was much leaner, his hair dark and short but spiky on top. They smelt clean, sweet, of washed clothing and soap.

I was helped into the carriage and both the soldiers sat in front of me, I travelled backwards.

I could smell the sweet musky smell of the horses as they sweated pulling the carriage; I have so longed for the smell of my Blaze. The carriage inside was upholstered in green velvet, it felt so soft against my skin, I looked around but never lifted my head up, we were not allowed to look up at the cave guards, and if we did, we were beaten.

I looked out of the carriage window, I looked up slightly so that I could see the quickly moving grass beneath the carriage, we approached the top of a brow and I could see the sky behind us. The blue of the sky was so beautiful, tiny fluffy clouds sailed across and disappeared as the suns warmth evaporated the ice crystals within them. The contrast of the blue of the sky and the carpet of emerald green grass of the earth was mesmerising, to me, it was the most beautiful sight my sore watering screwed up eyes had seen in a long time. The sight of the angry ocean was nowhere to be seen.

I looked slowly back down; the filthy torn threadbare rags that adorned my emaciated body were of no use to anything larger than a small dog. I tried to cover myself with my hands over the holes that bared my stomach and some parts of my legs but it was no good. My bloody and torn up knees protruded through large holes, I looked awful.

The blonde haired guard put his hand on my leg, I shrunk away terrified that he would strike me. I cowered in the corner.

Hey, it okay, everything is going to be okay, your free now, I’m not going to hurt you. His voice was gentle, as though attempting to coax a nervous wild horse.

I could never imagine what this child has been through! said the dark haired man to his partner, talking as if I was not there.

Let’s hope she is the right one, if not, at least she is free Alex. The light haired man replied.

The journey seemed endless, but I did not feel as though I should fear the soldiers, not as I did before in those caves. The sun was now beginning to set behind a forest that we had just passed through. The setting sun shone giving off yellow, red and pink colours over the heavens above. Thin white clouds spread out over the vast sky and they were edged like lace in yellow, orange, purple and pink making it look like a beautiful painting. Maybe the