Azalea (eBook)
484 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3178-1466-3 (ISBN)
Benjamin Fletcher has always been a fan of science fiction and fantasy adventures, enthralled not only by the mainstream series of his childhood but also by the fantastical worlds brought to life by video game companies through art and storytelling. Benjamin's writing is a culmination of his love for fantasy, combined with his desire to see more romance stories that explore a complicated yet healthy relationship dynamic between their main characters and what happens after 'happily ever after.' Please write reviews for my book! It is exceedingly helpful!
"e;Azalea"e; is an epic action-adventure that explores a complex yet healthy relationship dynamic among its main characters, incorporating themes of personal choice and navigating difficult emotions, such as anger, desire, and heartache. THE WORLD FACES EXTINCTION. Dragons ravenous beasts of immense elemental power have risen from their millennium-long slumber to devour the world's magic. Their rise threatens to exterminate all life on the planet as they have done countless times. Azalea, a daughter of the Sylva, born of a giant, sentient tree, awakens into this world at war. She emerges fully grown from her seedpod with the afterimages of her destiny echoing across her mind. But following a predestined course isn't something Azalea is interested in. Straying from her intended path, Azalea meets Joseph, an enigmatic human ranger with a predestined fate of his own. TOGETHER, WILL THE PAIR BE ABLE TO SURVIVE THE ONSLAUGHT OF THE DRAGONS?
Chapter 1
Lost
I hate this jungle,” she said in between heavy and exhausted breaths. The continent of Ortus was vast, home to many nations and ecosystems. But no place was worse than the sweltering heat of the Sordes Jungle. Situated along the world’s equator, summer temperatures regularly exceeded one hundred degrees. Not as hot as the Umbral Desert or the volcanic lands far to the northeast, but neither of those environments ever came close to the Sordes’ humidity.
Once, a mysterious group of enlightened individuals watched over these moss-covered lands. They were benevolent spirits. They protected the weak and the just from the strong and the violent. Those who met them called them druids, named so because of their oneness with nature. However, that was a long time ago. There has been no sign of the druids in nearly one hundred years. Killed by the dragons, some say. But then, people these days tended to blame all their misfortunes on the dragons, whether they were to blame or not.
The jungle held many dangers. Deadly plants and animals, warring centaur tribes, criminal organizations hiding contraband—to name a few of the known threats. Then there was the unknown. Wild stories have been circulating for years about something sinister lurking within the jungle. And while most believed such claims were nothing more than rumors, many shared an unspoken fear of this place. Suffice it to say, no one in their right mind ever ventured into this jungle. Not unless they had no other choice.
Azalea, a daughter of the Sylva, now faced the Sordes alone. “My body is drenched. My feet are sore and cut.” She cringed every time her weight shifted onto her right leg. “And this gash is not helping!”
The young woman had an unfortunate run-in earlier that morning with one of the hunters trying to capture her. Like sap from a tree, golden blood dripped from her leg wound with every laboring step. Convinced the blood trail was the reason she could not escape, Azalea cursed her carelessness. At this moment, however, she cursed the ever-growing sounds of footsteps rustling the bushes behind her.
A man came into view—sylvan, like her. Their eyes connected.
Azalea ran.
The hunter chased.
The misty morning rang with the bellowing symphony of hunters’ horns. Azalea’s heart pounded harder than her feet as she bolted into denser vegetation. Ducking underneath an overturned log, she sensed something ahead. Several somethings. Not hunters. Not based on the webs covering the thick shrubs. A sick delight crossed her lips. At last, this hunt could be turned in her favor.
Sliding a thin blade from its sheath, Azalea stalked into the den.
At first, the creatures paid her little attention, not feeling threatened. Then, she intentionally kicked a rock into the nearest web. One of the creatures rushed her, its eight hairy limbs displacing everything in its path.
Azalea reeled back, avoiding the spider. Its fangs impaled the soil, just missing her stomach. Before the spider could react, Azalea forced her long, steel blade directly between its numerous, beady eyes, piercing the skull and brain in one stroke, its legs constricting into a lifeless ball.
Shrills sounded throughout the nest. Azalea quickly pulled her rapier free and attempted to run. But she staggered back instead, collapsing as her injured leg gave way, crying out in pain.
Dozens of spiders rushed out of their nests, salivating. At the exact moment, four hunters heard the scream and ran full speed into the webbed thicket.
Azalea waited until her enemies were near and, using magic, teleported to safety.
She reappeared on the far side of the spider-infested thicket and ran. Though doubtful of their chances, she sincerely hoped the spiders would prevail.
Minutes later, a large, dead tree came into view. Its roots broke through the soil, creating a recess beneath the base of the trunk. That was the best hiding place Azalea had found, and she took it. Once settled, she tore a long leaf from her tunic and used it to wrap her leg. She cringed as she tied off the wrap, suppressing a cry. The edges around the wound were already blackening, and the improvised bandage would only hold back the blood loss for a short time. She was in trouble, and she knew it.
Crawling out from the trunk’s recess, all looked clear, but just as Azalea stood up, an arm outstretched to knock her back into the mud. Dizzy from the sharp blow to her cranium, Azalea could barely force the multiple images of her attacker to coalesce.
Before she could respond, a boot pressed down on her chest while another pinned her arm from reaching her rapier. “At last, we have you.” The hunter loomed over her, his blade gleaming in the last rays of sunlight penetrating the canopy. “Boss wants you back alive,” his teeth flashed behind a perverted grin, “never said you had to be returned undamaged. Surrender, or I will drag your broken, unconscious body back by the very chains you—!”
Azalea rammed her good knee into his groin.
The hunter squealed, bending forward.
With her right arm free of the bark-made boot, she planted her fist into his gut. And with another punch landing across his jaw, the man toppled over and off of her.
Regaining air in her lungs, she sprang up, flipped her rapier around, and bashed the pommel into the back of the man’s skull, knocking him out cold. She yanked a pair of metal cuffs from the hunter’s belt and clasped his wrists together behind his back. “I wear no one’s chains,” she spat. “Least of all his!”
Golden blood seeped from her knuckles; she could not flex her hands without pain. Anger dulled it some, but not enough. As the adrenaline rush subsided, all her pains emerged in full, her eyes producing tears without aid. Azalea touched her hand to her cheek. She held a droplet on her fingertips, staring at it. Bitterly, she flung it away and said, “Dry up, tears. Now is not the time.”
Just then, she felt something wet land on her head.
A drip of water ran off her elbow. Another soaked into the mud squishing between her toes. Azalea looked up as countless drops fell from the sky. “Rain,” she said in irritation. “Now is not the time for you either!” The rain was light, but it was already creating muddy pools all over the jungle floor. She stared at her reflection in the rippling puddles. She barely recognized herself. Face painted in torment. Arms and legs coated in wet mud over a layer of dried dirt. Golden blood streamed out of dozens of cuts. Her once elegant, handmade leaf tunic hung torn and shredded. She thought, How did it come to this?
Azalea stiffened, hearing something behind her.
“Do not move,” a nervous voice threatened, “or I will shoot.”
With a soft glance over her left shoulder, Azalea confirmed his sincerity.
This hunter’s shortbow was drawn and aimed. His grip was amateurish, but he knew enough. He kept his weight on his back foot, positioned himself opposite her dominant side, and stood well out of reach. Even her rapier, with its long blade, would not be enough.
The hunter’s words were lined with disgust. “That fool, lying face down in the mud, thinks you are nothing. I know better. I know how dangerous you are.” He momentarily lowered his bow to throw something. A set of iron shackles clanked on the ground beside Azalea. “Put those on behind your back. Slowly…”
Azalea’s jaw clenched as her hands became fists. “I will not.”
She spun around, rapier singing as it sliced through the air.
The arrow was released, and her body dropped to the ground.
He walked forward in horror. It was unclear if he was more unnerved by the corpse…or the prospect of explaining why the boss’ favorite prisoner could not be captured alive. Probably both. He squatted beside her, observing her face. “I see what made him obsess over you. You were something.” His eyes wandered down her form, then returned to her lifeless eyes, an intuitive itch giving him cause to be suspicious. Something was not right. “I had you. You knew it. Why then, after all this, did you kill yourself?”
He moved to pull the shaft embedded in her right lung—
Magic flashed. Like shards of a mirror, Azalea shattered into thousands of sparkling, purple pieces. The pieces dissipated to dust, descending as a shimmering cloud. As the particles touched the dirt, they vanished entirely.
The hunter stepped back, startled and confused. Once he realized what had transpired, he cursed, “Thorns and needles! He never told us she was a mesmer!”
. . .
“Leave now, human! Unless you have really come all this way into our jungle to die!”
A man stood before the centaur chieftain. His short brown hair was flattened by sweat, and his eyes were consumed with hate. Joseph Alcadeias had never judged others based...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 29.9.2025 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Kinder- / Jugendbuch |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3178-1466-3 / 9798317814663 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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