Lichgates: Book One of the Grimoire Saga (an Epic Fantasy Adventure) by S.M. Boyce Page A
Authors: S.M. Boyce
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tree, its naked branches marking the foreground of the image while a dark forest consumed the landscape behind him. There was no text. She picked at the corner of the page with her fingers.
“You didn’t tell me it would be this bad.”
The Vagabond’s lips twitched into a smile. Her heart jumped. She shifted the page for better light, but the smile was gone when she looked again. Shivers raced up her back, but she took a deep breath. It could have been a play of the light, or even her eyes shifting from her exhaustion. She was hardly at her best.
“So what do I do now?”
The pages flipped again with their own fitful intensity and finally settled on a page that had only one line of neat, handwritten red text.
Find the Vagabond’s village. The secrets there will make you stronger.
“How do I find it?”
A single page turned.
There is a map which will lead you there, but it was broken into four pieces to keep the village’s location safe. Each piece is hidden in one of the four kingdoms the Vagabond visited. Once assembled, this map is your key into the village. Find all four and you will find your way.
“Man,” she grumbled, rubbing her neck. She didn’t want to find a village. She didn’t want to keep this book. She wanted to go home, to go back in time, to forget all of this.
The pages flipped again and settled on a thick chunk of text.
A VAGABOND’S PURPOSE
JOURNAL ENTRY #537
When I became the Vagabond, I sought to restore the peace treasured by the lost city of Ethos before its great collapse, when it crumbled from within. Ethos was a mighty city where all of the yakona kingdoms lived as one, but even in my day it’s an ancient legend. Now, war is endless and hopeless.
I am feared because I have no blood loyalty to my Hillsidian king. For a yakona, loyalty isn’t a choice. The Blood can control his subjects at any moment and, if powerful enough, from afar. It’s a dangerous and frequently abused gift. My freedom is therefore both envied and loathed.
I am an orphan and was raised in Hillside, but left the city to travel and learn. I discovered Ourea’s wonders and its failures, writing of them in the journal I later adapted to become this Grimoire. This book has a life of its own, can think for itself, and has no limit to the number of its pages. To sort through my entries, merely ask the right question. Its pages will find the answer.
Above all else, I learned this: in all things, there must be balance. I sought to teach this to the world, to remind all yakona of the greatness with which we once ruled Ourea, but my teachings were misconstrued. Those who listened heard only that I had no loyalty. I was allowed to travel to every kingdom except for the Stele, but only because I was seen as a novelty. A curiosity. I was tolerated.
There were a select few who I came across in my journeys who wished to be free from the loyalty which enslaved them, and I gave them that freedom. They became vagabonds, though they never had grimoires of their own. Some stayed to help me in my journeys, while others continued on with their own lives; either way, they were free to do as they pleased. You, too, will someday learn to create vagabonds as I once did.
The Bloods misinterpreted my intentions when I made some of their people vagabonds. They thought of me as a threat, however fervently I insisted otherwise. I wanted peace, but all they could understand was war. I was forced into hiding because of my actions, but I don’t regret what I did. I never will, as freedom so often comes with a price.
Rumors spread that my book could dominate entire kingdoms, which I thought to be ridiculous—at first. I had simply not yet asked the right question. Once I did, I realized my studies had, indeed, found the weakness in each of the kingdoms except for the one which I was never permitted to visit: the Stele. My quest for knowledge had brought forth a weapon that could destroy all but the most
“You didn’t tell me it would be this bad.”
The Vagabond’s lips twitched into a smile. Her heart jumped. She shifted the page for better light, but the smile was gone when she looked again. Shivers raced up her back, but she took a deep breath. It could have been a play of the light, or even her eyes shifting from her exhaustion. She was hardly at her best.
“So what do I do now?”
The pages flipped again with their own fitful intensity and finally settled on a page that had only one line of neat, handwritten red text.
Find the Vagabond’s village. The secrets there will make you stronger.
“How do I find it?”
A single page turned.
There is a map which will lead you there, but it was broken into four pieces to keep the village’s location safe. Each piece is hidden in one of the four kingdoms the Vagabond visited. Once assembled, this map is your key into the village. Find all four and you will find your way.
“Man,” she grumbled, rubbing her neck. She didn’t want to find a village. She didn’t want to keep this book. She wanted to go home, to go back in time, to forget all of this.
The pages flipped again and settled on a thick chunk of text.
A VAGABOND’S PURPOSE
JOURNAL ENTRY #537
When I became the Vagabond, I sought to restore the peace treasured by the lost city of Ethos before its great collapse, when it crumbled from within. Ethos was a mighty city where all of the yakona kingdoms lived as one, but even in my day it’s an ancient legend. Now, war is endless and hopeless.
I am feared because I have no blood loyalty to my Hillsidian king. For a yakona, loyalty isn’t a choice. The Blood can control his subjects at any moment and, if powerful enough, from afar. It’s a dangerous and frequently abused gift. My freedom is therefore both envied and loathed.
I am an orphan and was raised in Hillside, but left the city to travel and learn. I discovered Ourea’s wonders and its failures, writing of them in the journal I later adapted to become this Grimoire. This book has a life of its own, can think for itself, and has no limit to the number of its pages. To sort through my entries, merely ask the right question. Its pages will find the answer.
Above all else, I learned this: in all things, there must be balance. I sought to teach this to the world, to remind all yakona of the greatness with which we once ruled Ourea, but my teachings were misconstrued. Those who listened heard only that I had no loyalty. I was allowed to travel to every kingdom except for the Stele, but only because I was seen as a novelty. A curiosity. I was tolerated.
There were a select few who I came across in my journeys who wished to be free from the loyalty which enslaved them, and I gave them that freedom. They became vagabonds, though they never had grimoires of their own. Some stayed to help me in my journeys, while others continued on with their own lives; either way, they were free to do as they pleased. You, too, will someday learn to create vagabonds as I once did.
The Bloods misinterpreted my intentions when I made some of their people vagabonds. They thought of me as a threat, however fervently I insisted otherwise. I wanted peace, but all they could understand was war. I was forced into hiding because of my actions, but I don’t regret what I did. I never will, as freedom so often comes with a price.
Rumors spread that my book could dominate entire kingdoms, which I thought to be ridiculous—at first. I had simply not yet asked the right question. Once I did, I realized my studies had, indeed, found the weakness in each of the kingdoms except for the one which I was never permitted to visit: the Stele. My quest for knowledge had brought forth a weapon that could destroy all but the most
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