Power Compelling

Remnant: Book of Xiandol Chapter 2

At the opposite side of Xiandolia, far at the edge above the rough, cold waters of the sea below, stood the house Weisen, the sanctum of the Magi. For as long as anyone could remember, there lived families and groups of such magically apt people across the land. The magi were those who were able to conjure powers from inside themselves; the elemental magics of fire, ice, or earth, or perhaps twist the forces of their own being into others, animate or otherwise. In the land of Xiandol, these Magi had long been kept near the seat of the kingdom. In the spread of King Halmalch’s power, it is said that certain bloodlines came to join his forces, while others were banished or erased for their desire to keep the land fractured.

Since the founding of the Kingdom, the magi of the land had been allowed to proliferate and share their knowledge and teachings with others. While not affiliated with the Guard or the Enforcers, they were often directed to aid in certain affairs, typically to share their knowledge or powers to aid in the continued solidarity of the Kingdom. The sanctum inside Xiandolia, one of only a few about the land, was the largest of the sanctums. Its stone spires often projected smoke of unknown origin, and the depths inside were of an equally mysterious nature to most people who inhabited the capital.

Enforcer General Edrian’s errand that day led him to the wide door of the structure. The metal knocker upon the door was strangely light. With a swing into the wooden surface of the door, the fixture echoed with a deep, chilling sound, and the hinges seemed to creak open on their own. On the other side, inside a small, open courtyard, was one of the sanctum’s inhabitants, smoking a pipe.

The mage, all but hidden underneath the thick hood of a wool cloak turned to him gently. “Edrian, is it?” The whiny voice said before extinguishing the pipe and tucking it back into one of his wide sleeves.

“Who else would it be?” Edrian huffed, rubbing his bare, dry hand over each other in the cold. “Will you let me in?”

“Of course,” The magi turned to the second door, “my master has been expecting you.”

Edrian pushed hastily after the magi, taking the door handle in his grasp as he stepped through. The interior of the heavy stone walls smelled of musty herbs and charcoal. The mage lowered his hood, revealing dark, short hair and burnished skin. The general held his tongue and looked about to distract his mind. To either side were long, cramped hallways, but the path continuing forward led outward to a larger room with various cluttered tables and shelves about.

“Master,” The magi said across the room, his feet seeming to drift across the floor from under his cloak. “The Enforcer has arrived.”

A wiry, pale man with hair as thin as himself shifted about one of the long tables. Upon it was a collection of thin weapons, shaped into rudimentary swords. “Thank you, Chin.” The elderly mage huffed, his lips dry. In the distance, there was a pounding of metal and hammer.

Edrian ignored the departure of the first mage and presented himself before the unique items that had been placed out for his arrival. “Mulegend, let’s see what you have for me.” His hands tested the thin grips, yet to be fashioned with leather bindings or pommels.

The old mage held his hands before his back and took survey of the table opposite Edrian. “No significant progress.”

The general grimaced and took up one of the rudimentary blades in his palms. “Quite light. I would fathom to say, though, that a swordsman would desire as much weight behind an attack as they could manage.”

“You said something to the same effect last visit.” Mulegend pursed his lips.

Edrian diverted his eyes and flipped the weapon around in his grasp. “Hmm, is that so?” With a focused gaze, he forced the wide section of blade against the edge of the table. The metal offered a hint of wanting to bend, before splitting in two with a jagged gash. “Not quite up to standards. Here I was expecting the magical flames in your forges would be able to do extraordinary things.”

“I think you misunderstand our powers, Enforcer General. The infused energy will flow through the material if willing, but in fact, that is where we have found our obstruction. If your best craftsmen cannot turn poor quality ore into something usable, then how should we hope to manage?” The senior mage tapped his lips together. “Give us proper material on which to practice, and then we shall see if the same theories will work on more meager supplies.”

Edrian tapped his foot loudly. “It is a commodity, at the moment, you know.” He tossed down the broken bits of metal a loud piece at a time. “The old mines are running bare. We have more men, who need to be outfitted, this very day even.”

“So be it.”

“Words like that won’t work here,” Edrian grunted. “You have one of the only remaining weapons from that collection. How hard could it be to replicate such an old technique?”

Mulegend bit his lip and shrugged. “The technique is beyond just ordinary magic. Lend us, perhaps, an experienced forge-hand. One who may be able to make sense of the nature of this metal. Halmalch would want such information shared with those who would gain the most from it, don’t you think?”

“Don’t tell me what the King may or may not want,” Edrian said, cracking his knuckles. He paced about, gazing to the collections of puzzling supplies. “You’ll get your artisan, but ore any better than what you have now may be a while.” The General’s face wrinkled up in thought, before raking his hands across the weapons again. “Go ahead and melt these back down. If you still need the finest of ores, what is even the point?”

“One step at a time, good General.”

The Enforcer

Remnant: Book of Xiandol Chapter 1

Inside the rocky walls of Xiandolia, the strength of the land was honed and focused. While no major conflict had befallen the vast kingdom in many years, the forces were still held at the ready. From the settlements about the land, young men coming of age were often taken away from their homes and brought to the capital to be trained in the ways of the sword and the tactics of warfare. When deemed ready, they were assigned to one of two regiments in which they would serve. The Banner Guard were of permanent station at the capital, serving and protecting the city and its people. The Enforcer’s Consort served as the hands of the Keep, traveling about the land to assure the Kingdom’s subjects remained in line and continued to provide the tribute for the capital.

That autumn morning, the young recruits who had completed their many months of training had come forth to the Keep before the King, the Guard Captain, and the Enforcer General to be inducted into one of the regiments. That day, from the selection of five fresh faces, three were inducted into the Banner Guard, and two to the Consort. For the first time, many of the young men were allowed to move out of the training barracks at the edge of the city walls, and join their fellow men in one of the two buildings serving to house the members of the organizations.

Captain Carlyle of the Enforcers was inside the Consort’s hall that morning, reading reports from the Keep’s officials, and moving about tokens marking the assignments on the map table. The only others about were a couple of men between duty shifts, maintaining their gear and awaiting the arrival of the new inductees.

Enforcer General Edrian arrived suddenly through the doors of the building in his normal, brutish manner. “Attention,” He huffed, announcing his presence, both to the new and old members of the group. “We’ve some fresh meat to take up the bunks.”

Carlyle stood and presented himself outward toward the room, his arms folded behind his back. Edrian stood by the door, allowing the two men to make their way in past him. “You ought to cut that mess of hair from your head,” the general commented at the second man, “it’ll just serve to fly up in your face.”

“Yes sir.” The long-haired man replied meekly. Carlyle immediately recognized one of the new members as someone familiar, but he could not seem to get a glance his way out of the individual. The recruits had little more than a pack of bedding and a few changes of clothes on their backs.

“Anywhere you would wish to lay your head is fine.” Edrian spoke up again. “More than enough empty spots this time of year. Carlyle.”

One of the two captains of the Consort, Carlyle was respected both by the General and the men. Although not as experienced as the other captain, his soft features and forgiving attitude gave him a sense of approachability. He followed the General’s call and approached. “Yes, sir?”

Edrian extracted a roll of parchment from under his arm and brought it with him to the table laden with other documents. He unrolled it to a patiently awaiting Carlyle standing just beyond his shoulder. “Some more information from the Keep. Way up in the foothills, just below the northern woods. You familiar with the area?”

“There’s a tiny pass up that way, I believe.”

“That area, apparently, yes.” Edrian sighed and rubbed at his thick, dark sideburns. “There’s been reports of a group of miners taking up camp along the mountain there. When we went to Rallig, there was a pair of them, apparently from up that way, trying to trade off raw iron ore for other supplies. This is what we took from them.”

“I see.” Carlyle hummed, looking over the list of items. “Not much.”

Edrian tapped on the parchment upon one of the items. “A dagger, too, and not from our forges. They likely have more.”

“You think it’s from that group way up north?”

“The Blackclaw?” Edrian shrugged and grunted. “If there was such an organized group up there, they wouldn’t be able to hide away so easily. Nevertheless, I’m asking you to head out that way and see if you can’t run into them.”

“I can manage that.” Carlyle nodded.

Edrian patted his shoulder with a worn, heavy palm. “Good man. Take some of the fresh meat with you.”

Carlyle nodded and glanced across the room to the particular recruits, one of which was painstakingly rolling out his bedroll on the rickety bunk. “Understood.”

The General stood and stretched his back. “I’ve got other things to attend to about, I’ll return before you head out at least.” With a stretch of his shoulder, Edrian returned back out the door.

Carlyle ran his fingers through his thin, light brown before making his way across the room. The long-haired man jumped up and held his fist to his chest in response to the captain appearing behind him. “Sir, I’m at your service.”

Carlyle waived him down. “Relax, boy. You’ve not forgotten me, I hope?”

The long-haired man finally met eyes with the captain. “Carlyle… sir.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “It has been long, indeed.”

“Kensley was your name, correct?” Carlyle nodded, inspecting the young man who had since seemed to have filled out his clothing, if just a bit more. “I’m pleased to see you’ve been accepted into the Consort.”

Kensley blinked and offered up a short nod in response. “Of course, sir.”

“Or were you perhaps hoping to been offered a position in the Banner Guard?”

“No, sir.” Kensley shook his head. “It was a surprise, perhaps, having Edrian choose me. A friend of mine, equally skilled, ended up under Oberlander, somehow.”

Carlyle folded his arms over his chest and looked back over his shoulder. “The guard are those of the type who are simply content to listen to orders. An enforcer is chosen based on their ability to make decisions on their own.”

“I… understand,” Kensley replied, turning back to his bed and the roll of clothes upon it.

“Before you get too comfortable here…” Carlyle spoke up, leaning back on the bunk behind him, “I was assigned a task. Edrian wanted me to bring along one of you.”

“Me, sir?”

“Who better?” The captain nodded. “It should be of no great danger, if you are perhaps concerned.”

“No, sir.”

“We’ll get along much better if you drop the formalities.”

“Yes… s-”

Carlyle chuckled. “Force of habit. It will be at least a day before we depart. Perhaps we should fashion you with a proper weapon.”

“Even if…” Kensley hesitated, holding a loose fist. “There is no risk of danger?”

The captain huffed. “You’ve certainly got a good head on your shoulders.” He said with a smile. “An enforcer hopes to never have to use his sword against his own people. The sight of it on your hip is usually enough to deter anyone attempting to escalate.”

“I… see.”

Carlyle stretched his arms. “I’ll go and have a chat with the quartermaster to have one prepared for you. Get comfortable here for the day. We’ll eat at sun’s rest- I believe Bently is on cooking duty tonight.”

Remnant: Prologue

The Books of Remnant precede the events detailed in Of Armor and Bone, the first book of the Sing Wars trilogy.
The Book of Xiandol follows the actions of The Enforcers, a task force of the King, as they work to protect the economic and military interests of the Kingdom.
The Book of Tulefore records the rise of the seafaring Empire, and the movements of those of royal blood as they attempt to prove themselves for their people.

Available for purchase as part of the entire collection later this year:
Book of Sing chronicles the arrival of the Remnant to the land of Callia.
Book of War follows the escalation of the conflict between the nations of Tulefore and Xiandol on either side of the Sing Mountain range.
Book of Order details the creation and the rise of The Order of Magi, whose actions turned the tides of the conflict and led to the events of Armor and Bone.

Long before the arrival of the Remnant of power to the land of Callia, and the conflict that followed its discovery, the two lands at either side of the mountain range called ‘Sing,’ lived happily distant from each other. The old tales passed down from person to person told of the original humans to arrive upon the land, having sailed the seas after departing the old lands to the west. Depending on who was asked, the story differed, but the spread of people across the continent started somewhere on what would be the coast of Xiandol. While parts of the coastline were viable for settling, the glacial remains of a previous time of freezing upon the mass left nothing but barren dirt and rock deeper inland.

Some chose to remain upon the slivers of green space at the western expanse of the continent, while others chose to brave the seemingly impassable mountains to seek what was at the other side. Those who made it found a lush untouched land of forests and rich plains that extended all the way to the eastern sea which had never previously been seen by their people. Albeit smaller in size than the lands at the opposite side of the range, the bounty it provided the settlers allowed the civilization to proliferate.

While the people of what would become Tulefore prospered, the people of early Xiandol segregated themselves about the limited resources; the wooded areas, and the workable land, or the flows of water from the mountains. While Tulefore was constructing cities and venturing out across the seas for the first time, Xiandolans were still attempting to sew the land and forge tools to aid in their survival.

A century and a half before the arrival of the Remnant, Tulefore, under the leadership of Daedus Auriline, made their first move in their yet unknown desire to build an empire. In the sea to the south, they had discovered a people upon an ancient volcanic island, calling themselves the Soany. The land was rich with resources unknown to the Tuleforians, and the news of such things forwarded Daedus’ desire to bring the strange, unseen land and its people under the flag of Tulefore. With only a meager military presence, the Soany were forced to convert and accept the Tuleforian outsiders as their rulers. In the following decades, more lands across the sea were discovered and forced under the rule of Tulefore, expanding the colonial holdings and cultural richness of the young Empire.

Xiandol, at the same time, was fractured still, divided by tribal identities and the desire to hold onto limited resources. Thirty years before the arrival of the Remnant, a man by the name of Horatus Halmalch gathered what forces he could locally to make contact with the other tribes. Whether through reason or force, Halmalch swept across the land, incorporating the divided people under his own name. With an indisputable force behind him, he declared himself King and took up his rule in an old hamlet called Xiandolia in the far north of the land. In order to maintain his rule over his growing kingdom, he stripped as much power and agency from the people of the land, centralizing the military forces and trading lines about the chilly capital.

During the time before the arrival of the Remnant and the following Sing wars, it could have been said that both nations were at their strongest and most prosperous. The tales recorded here follow the two nations in their prime, leading into the arrival of the Remnant itself, the birth of the conflict over the desire for its power, and finally the rise of the venerable magi who banded together to force the tides of the Sing Wars.

Cygnus

Mariner: Chapter 5 [Final]

The push of the wind was suddenly no match for the pull of the current, but to where, it was unclear. “It’s like the water has a mind of its own here,” Magnus complained under his breath from the helm. Captain Fredrik had his arms crossed over his chest, looking out at the water before us.

The men on deck were scrambling to get control of the ship and force the sails to carry us in a predictable manner. As I scrambled up the rigging to help out, many continued to eye the eerily red sky. “I don’t trust it. Is it morning or night? It’s been so long…” “This journey was foolish… letting some woman guide us…” “The Call… after all this time, nothing but nonsense…”

But the men’s voices were soon lost to the splashing of the waves and the fluttering of the sails. I focused on the rope beneath my hands and feet, but I soon found myself the only one who was remaining in control. The sky had become lighter, burning our pupils long accustomed to the endless night. I forced my way back down to the deck before I dared look out at the horizon.

Just within our reach- there it was. The Greater Call was nothing as it looked from far beyond the storms and currents and blankets of fog. The water itself shimmered, bouncing around multi-colored rays of light like a million fragments of a broken mirror.

“The audience is imminent.” Lady Julia spoke her words from beside me, leaning over the edge of the side railing.

I shook off her strange words and ran up to the helm. The first mate’s eyes were locked to the Call. He barely reacted as I pushed at his arm. I dared a look at the phenomenon once again. The currents met at a swirling vortex at the center of the intense show of light. Magnus was still at the wheel, staring just as Andreas was. The Captain took little time in joining us as the pull became inescapable.

“Turn the wheel, fool!” Fredrik directed, shoving the quartermaster out of the way. “The current has either snapped or taken away the oars from down below. Nothing escapes this hold.”

The waters all about us were now shimmering with their violent reflections of light. In the blink of an eye, I caught sight of a pair of legs disappearing off the high riggings in a swan dive to the waters below. “Who was that?” Came the call, but nobody could answer. Then another man jumped, following the first. “What has gotten into them?!” Fredrik shouted, but there were much bigger worries to come.

The wheel jumped violently, tearing the handles out of the Captain’s hands. “Damn it,” he growled, jumping back and holding his wrists. The wheel spun until its limit, clacking loudly. The ship began to drift sideways into the current, and I felt myself being pulled in the opposite direction as the speed picked up. Fredrik took up the pegs and attempted to force the ship back straight. I joined and forced my weight in the same direction, but no force would budge it.

Fredrik backed off and kicked at the wheel, “This is it,” he said serenely, despite the growing roar of the water. “We just ride out the sea from here on out. The mistress has the correct idea.”

And there she was, standing strong at the bow, long hair lost to the storm, with arms braced on the railing. More men began to jump- there was no stopping them in their state of entrancement. Even Magnus began to take even steps down from the helm and to the railing of the lower deck, and-

The center of the shimmering vortex caught the Luna, yanking her down and releasing upward once again as she struggled to float herself upon the water. Those on their feet were thrown down, and any still on the riggings were tossed to the deck or off into the water. The salty sea washed over the deck, and the wind caught the sails, rolling us back and forth, and eventually snapping the thick mast like a twig. It crashed over the railing and yanked the ropes and tore tie-downs off the ship. Somewhere deep in the hull, I heard a crack and a shattering and the sound of yells. Men were pouring up from below deck, drenched. I knew we were going down.

I caught sight of Ms. Julie again through the mist and light, still at the bow, holding tight, despite being soaked through. Something told me to go after her. The aft was headed down first, and the wooden planks beneath my feet were slick, and the massive splinters left behind from the shattered mast blocked all the easy paths. She continued to look out at the shimmering water.

“Ms. Julie, you can’t!” I shouted, hoping to reach her.

She turned back, one hand still on the rail, and smiled. “Can’t what?”

“If we… if we stay aboard… we might be able to get out of this, once it clears-”

“Is that truly possible for us, young mariner?”

I shook my head and wiped the hair and salty water from my face. “I… we…”

The ship wracked itself back and forth. More men were jumping from the deck as the aft of the Luna began to sink, casting up violent bubbles as air escaped the lower compartments. I clung to the railing not a few feet from the woman. She pulled herself up straight. “Do not fear the Call!” She called over the sound of the waves. “Do not bemoan these men who have chosen to take refuge in the vortex, for they do so believing that it will lead them home.”

I held on with all my strength as the deck of the Luna began to tip vertically. Ms. Julie found her footing and placed herself just above the swirling, shimmering water. “Young mariner, where would wish to be, at this moment, if not here?”

I pondered, looking back to the swirling water, to the last of the men entering the shimmering glow, and my heart beat fast. “On the sea, the very same as always.”

“I see.” She said. “With your father, I presume? Me, it would be betwixt my husband’s arms, for all his riches have never enough to replace his touch. Farewell, young mariner.”

And so she let go, disappearing as the scintillating glow took her. All the others had reached the same conclusion, whether by the wiles of the Call or not. If I did not make the choice of when to accept the same fate, the sinking remains of the Luna would do so for me. And so I let go next.

The water met with my body. It was warm, like the summers when the fishing was the best. And just as the last breath was about the leave me, I was caught. By my collar I was brought up. The familiar, nostalgic voice came to my ears. “Boy, we almost lost you to the water. Be more careful tossing the nets out.”

Approaching Transition

Mariner: Chapter 4

Some said they could see hints of The Call in the distance, while others argued that nothing was there to see in the wisps of remaining fog. I occasionally caught sight of Ms. Julie on deck, looking out to sea as if seeking the same thing, but I never had the courage to ask whether she saw it or not. The sky provided nothing but clouds day and night, hiding our guiding stars from us, but the compass held steady. With little wind, we were limited to the STROKE of the oars below, but the manpower was dwindling and losing patience.

For days we drifted, pushed along when the oarsmen’s strength would allow it. The sails were lowered to catch what available wind there was, but the lack of sightings of our target turned many impatient at the situation. The calm waters put my mind at rest, personally, but the others began to act strangely. Some I caught staring out at the horizon rather than finishing their work, and more than a few squabbles were caused over menial things. The Captain and bosun attempted to break up the fights, but soon they were fed up.

I thought it was my imagination at first, but it was clear- the nights were drawing longer and longer. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen the stars, and soon enough, most hours of the day, there was barely enough light to see the compass in one’s outstretched hand. Looking up, reaching out, passing through- it was as if it would never end. The first mate ordered the men to bring up lanterns from below and affix them about the deck in hopes of being able to cast just enough light to foresee anything coming.

The crew became more vocal- wondering if we had passed The Call, or that it wouldn’t show up while we were so close, or whether it was even real in the first place. Captain Fredrik quelled many of the naysayers by forcing those who wouldn’t cooperate to stay in their quarters or to help row from the lower decks. Did I have hope for something to happen? No, what stayed in my mind was the idea that poor Ms. Julie had paid so much for the expedition, only to find seemingly nothing. But my expectations of her mood were quickly canceled out upon seeing her face in the orange dim of the lantern light.

“How does someone as young as you find yourself with such skills on a ship?” She asked me, coming up the stairs toward me.

I shrugged and glanced at her out of the side of my vision. “I grew up on ships. My father was a fisherman.”

“Your father?” She perked up. “Is he here on the ship with us?”

“He’s… not with us anymore. He was lost as sea some time ago.”

“Oh. And your mother?”

“She died when I was very young.”

“I see. I’ve lost, too. It’s tough. But still… the sea doesn’t worry you… this journey… the dangers?”

“If there is one place where I am confident in my skills… it is upon a sailing ship.”

She pursed her lips. “Perfect, then. I can sense us approaching transition, very soon.”

“Approaching?” I asked, but received no response as she went away.

The words were lost to me as I allowed myself to rest later after the helm was taken over for me. But when I awoke, it was then I found the meaning of what she had said.

The dark clouds outside glowed red, dying everything in a sanguine glow. The waves had returned to crack the once glassy finish of the water, and the wind was once again filling the sails. The helm was under control, but the needle of my compass refused to find one spot to settle upon. Ms. Julie was at the bow, watching on.