The Lost Gods of the Sea (eBook)
261 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-108342-4 (ISBN)
The Lost Gods of the Sea: When gods vanish and kingdoms fall, only courage can guide the seas.
Keldryn never asked to be a savior, yet the Holy Rod, a weapon of blinding light, has chosen him. To some, he is a hero sent by the gods; to others, a dangerous enemy. At his side stands Calira, bound by love and sacrifice, as shadow-born creatures known as the Niqmaw rise from the dark to devour the living.
But while monsters roam the night, kings hunger for power, traitors plot in silence, and every choice demands a price. As ancient prophecies awaken and forbidden rituals shake the land, Keldryn must face not only the enemies before him but the destiny he cannot escape.
The Lost Gods of the Sea is an epic fantasy adventure filled with dark secrets, ancient prophecy, high-stakes battles, betrayal, romance, and redemption. From storm-torn kingdoms and haunted valleys to the endless seas that remember what men forget, this is a journey of love, sacrifice, and the courage to face the unknown.
Perfect for readers who love:
1. Epic fantasy series like The Lord of the Rings and A Song of Ice and Fire
2. Dark fantasy adventures with gods, myths, and shadow-born creatures
3. Fantasy romance woven into tales of war, sacrifice, and destiny
4. Sea fantasy and stories of lost kingdoms, forbidden rituals, and ancient magic.
Dive into a world where myth meets reality, courage challenges fate, and the sea itself holds the last truth of the gods.
CHAPTER 3
The Divine Choosing
Nine months after Tellina’s pregnancy began, a great sorrow fell upon the land, King Zerathor Frostvern of the Elbonite Kingdom passed away. He had ruled with wisdom and kindness, and though he died peacefully in old age, his loss was deeply felt by the people, because he had departed without an heir.
In accordance with tradition, the kingdom entered twenty-one days of mourning. The air was heavy with silence and grief. Any form of merriment was forbidden, and even the sea seemed calmer, as if paying its respects. On the twenty-first day, as the ritual demanded, the people gathered at the Square behind the shore to mark the end of mourning. A large platform had been erected, and at its center stood Wyllnard Blackmar, the kingdom’s most revered shaman, a man known to speak the will of the gods.
Wyllnard stepped forward, lifting his hands as the crowd fell silent.
“My people,” he said solemnly, his voice carrying over the hushed crowd, “you all know that today marks the end of our mourning for the great King Zerathor Frostvern. For twenty-one days we have grieved, lamented, and honored our fallen king. But today is not for sorrow, today is for release. We must let go of our pain and prepare our hearts for what comes next.”
The people bowed their heads in reverence, their silence heavy with devotion.
“After today,” Wyllnard continued, “we must wait seven more days, as our ancestors decreed. On the seventh day, the gods will reveal the one who is destined to rule us, the rightful heir to the throne of our land as our late king had no heir. We shall gather again at the Pagoda of Spirits, where the elders of the kingdom will join in sacred ceremony. Through signs and visions, we shall witness the divine choosing.”
The shaman’s voice echoed across the square, the weight of destiny settling over every soul present.
“We shall not be like sheep without a shepherd.”
With those words, Wyllnard concluded his message. He lifted his staff and everywhere became silent.
“You all know these are the customs and sacred traditions of our Kingsons,” he said at last. “These are the few but powerful words the gods have given me to speak.”
With that, he stepped down solemnly from the platform and took a seat upon the royal stage, a symbolic act that honored the vacancy of the throne. According to ancient customs, when no king ruled, the shaman held temporary spiritual presence until the gods revealed the rightful heir.
As Wyllnard sat, the silence of the moment gave way to a burst of joy. The Square erupted with cheers, music, and celebration. The sound of local drums filled the air, and the people danced, feasted, and drank freely. It was a time to cast off sorrow, to celebrate the end of mourning, and to prepare their hearts for what was to come...
Seven days passed in reverence and anticipation. On the seventh day, the people of Elbonite once again gathered at the pagoda, a sacred space reserved for moments of divine transition. From morning till afternoon, the crowd waited, filled with hope and curiosity.
At last, Wyllnard appeared, accompanied by the Council of Elders, dressed in ceremonial robes and carrying staffs carved with ancient symbols that represented the sea, the mountain, and the sun.
Wyllnard stepped onto the stage and raised his hands. Together, they all said a prayer in unison:
“Elshat Xarion selan, lekrip shanoc monrepet, Odejezua thalvox ekonoj, gigis nivii kotuxi. Sohuk lelelonac, jefidix lajuxi vorathal, Novezen shatetoc lehimpeek, koiok zoryn thalvys. Oooganipegonx, Xarion, selathar lumivox, Valthys ekrip monshal, zythera shanoc xernys.”
Translation (in English):
“O great Xarion, eternal light, guide of the sacred, Your power brings the day, your will brings the light, and your strength keeps it shining. In humble devotion, we offer our hearts and life. Through endless tides, your glory endures forever. Blessed Xarion, hear our sacred plea. Grant us strength, eternal one, in your boundless reign.”
After a short moment of shared prayer, he said:
“My people,” he began, his voice steady and powerful, “I am here today to bring good news to every one of us.”
The atmosphere shifted, from suspense to the brink of revelation.
“After seven days of sacred prayer and divine meditation, the gods have answered us. They have chosen the one who will become the next king of our land…”
“The gods have not only chosen a king for us,” Wyllnard declared, his voice echoing across the pagoda, “they have also given me a divine message to deliver.”
The crowd leaned forward in stillness.
“Our days of war are over. From this day forward, we are called to rise and prosper.”
A ripple of awe moved through the people.
“As we welcome our new king,” Wyllnard continued, “peace and harmony will flow through our land more abundantly than ever before.”
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle across the crowd.
A ripple of awe coursed through the crowd, hearts stirred by the promise of a new era.
“The kingship has been revealed,” the herald declared. “Today we honor our culture and legacy, forged in sacrifice, tested in battle, and preserved through countless trials. It is our strength, our shield, and now, our future.”
Murmurs of anticipation swelled; eyes darted in search of the figure whose name would soon resound. A murmur spread, heads turned, hearts pounded.
Wyllnard stepped forward, his voice cutting through the rising whispers. Excitement began to stir. Whispers grew louder.
“The gods have chosen Kaelor Arwin, the son of late Ennthar Arwin, as our new king!”
A collective gasp swept across the plaza. Faces lit with surprise, joy, and wonder. In an instant, the crowd exploded with emotion. Cheers erupted from every corner. Drums pounded. Women sang with joy. Men roared with approval. Children danced in circles, waving leaves and tossing flower petals into the air.
The bubbling of celebration rose like thunder.
“Hail great Xarion! god of the mountains, sun, and moon, the god above!”
“The gods of our ancestors!”
“Xarion, may you reign forever!”
The voices of the people thundered across the land, echoing from mountaintop to shoreline. The celebration that followed the announcement of Kaelor Rav Arwin as king was like nothing the kingdom had seen in centuries. The square pulsed with life; drums beat wildly, flutes rang in harmony, and chants filled the air like sacred music.
After hours of jubilation, dancing, and feasting, the people returned to their homes, eager to prepare for what was to come next. In four days, they would return for the royal enthronement ceremony.
According to tradition, the role of Warlord would soon be passed on through combat, just one week after Kaelor officially became king. Though the crown awaited him, the battlefield would no longer be his to command.
As Kaelor made his way home that night, he was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. The cheers still echoed in his ears. The image of his comrades, his closest friends, fellow warriors, and brothers-in-arms, lifting him onto their shoulders filled his mind. They had danced and sung as they carried him to the platform, allowing the entire kingdom to see their new king.
That moment would live with him forever.
“Kaelor!” Wyllnard had cried from the stage.
“Your family is no longer the War Zone, but the Royal Home. From now on, your duty and burden shall increase.”
Those words burned into his heart like fire. He repeated them again and again in his mind.
When Kaelor arrived at his home, he stood silently for a moment outside the door, staring at the sky. He was filled with both thought and joy, a deep, quiet happiness that made his chest feel heavy.
“I am twenty-eight years old…” he whispered to himself, his eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I am twenty-eight years old… and the kingdom has been handed over to me for leadership.”
Kaelor lay on his bed that night, staring silently at the ceiling above. Though the sounds of celebration still echoed faintly outside, his mind was far from rest.
“I am a soldier,” he whispered, “and all I know is action. I only pray that I do not lead them strictly.”
He turned his head and sighed deeply.
“You, the gods of my ancestors… Xarion, do not forsake me. Lead me, that I may lead them with wisdom and care.”
His thoughts weighed heavily on him, and peace would not come easily. He was king now, not a warrior, not just a man, but a ruler of a people bound to his voice and his vision.
As he lay there in silence, his wife, Tellina, entered the room. The moment she saw him, she knew something was troubling her husband. His eyes were...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 19.10.2025 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen |
| ISBN-10 | 0-00-108342-2 / 0001083422 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-0-00-108342-4 / 9780001083424 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
EPUB (Adobe DRM)Größe: 1,8 MB
Kopierschutz: Adobe-DRM
Adobe-DRM ist ein Kopierschutz, der das eBook vor Mißbrauch schützen soll. Dabei wird das eBook bereits beim Download auf Ihre persönliche Adobe-ID autorisiert. Lesen können Sie das eBook dann nur auf den Geräten, welche ebenfalls auf Ihre Adobe-ID registriert sind.
Details zum Adobe-DRM
Dateiformat: EPUB (Electronic Publication)
EPUB ist ein offener Standard für eBooks und eignet sich besonders zur Darstellung von Belletristik und Sachbüchern. Der Fließtext wird dynamisch an die Display- und Schriftgröße angepasst. Auch für mobile Lesegeräte ist EPUB daher gut geeignet.
Systemvoraussetzungen:
PC/Mac: Mit einem PC oder Mac können Sie dieses eBook lesen. Sie benötigen eine
eReader: Dieses eBook kann mit (fast) allen eBook-Readern gelesen werden. Mit dem amazon-Kindle ist es aber nicht kompatibel.
Smartphone/Tablet: Egal ob Apple oder Android, dieses eBook können Sie lesen. Sie benötigen eine
Geräteliste und zusätzliche Hinweise
Buying eBooks from abroad
For tax law reasons we can sell eBooks just within Germany and Switzerland. Regrettably we cannot fulfill eBook-orders from other countries.
aus dem Bereich
