Evil Children of Naor

Published by: eXtasy Books

ISBN :978-1-77111-642-8

Page :285

Word Count :68695

Publication Date :2012-01-18

Series : #

Heat Level :

Available Formats : Evil Children of Naor (pdf) , Evil Children of Naor (prc) , Evil Children of Naor (epub) , Evil Children of Naor (mobi)

Category : Mainstream Fiction , Fantasy

Product Code: 978-1-77111-642-8

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Standing at the crossroads of life, choose the path of light. If you step on the path of darkness, Evil devours your soul.

There are many laws in the world of Naor, but all its creatures absolutely have to respect one: never let in, create or help the evil children of Hodgorn, the God of darkness. This is a sin that can never be forgotten or forgiven by the Gods of light. Other guilts can be redeemed and expiated. Yet, evil fights for the souls of Naor’s creatures. It hides everywhere, even buried deep in human nature, waiting for the moment to attack and possess its victims. No one is safe.

Namaris is a regular noblewoman living on the northern side of the Engaris Empire. She only desires to find a suitable husband and live a happy life. Tarion is a knight of Kemeid’s Order who carries a letter from his Grand Master to Ranidor Castle. Jansemi is a daughter of a leader of the Isher clan, living on the endless steppes of Elmor. None of them are aware that evil has chosen them for its victims. None of them expect that they will have to fight over their souls. Damnation or salvation is at stake.

Sitting in front of a mirror of polished copper, Namaris was critically contemplating her reflection. Earlier that morning she had heard her aunt mentioning something about giving her away in marriage, but Dignified Adeh had rejected her idea completely.

“She’s still too young.”

“Too young? She’s seventeen years old! And she caught the fancy of the governor’s son. He sent gifts...”

Her uncle made a puffing sound, and Namaris knew he wasn’t convinced.

“The decision doesn’t rest with us!”

“With whom, then?”

“Leave it alone, woman! But you know...” Her uncle paused and Namaris could only guess he tried to control himself in order not to say too much under the influence of his emotions. “Let’s wait one year more. I had a premonition.”

This time her aunt snapped back like an annoyed cat.

“She won’t bake bread for herself with your premonitions. She must find a good husband who will take care of her.”

The pattering of receding sandals informed the eavesdropping Namaris that her aunt had hastily turned and left towards the gardens. Namaris discreetly retreated to her chambers.

Namaris thought seriously about the subject of marriage for the first time. So far it had seemed to her like some distant, hazy future. She hadn’t felt the need to leave the family nest yet and go off to build one of her own. Men were interested in her, certainly. She even had a few admirers sighing at her, but she didn’t treat them seriously. She was much more interested in scholarly writings, horse riding and even gladiator fights, all things that were hardly useful when it came to housekeeping.

While her aunt grumbled about her interests, she was still a good, caring woman who acted as a substitute for Namaris’s mother. Since she died during childbirth, Namaris had never gotten to know her. Her father had gone off on a war expedition when she was very young, leaving her in the care of distant relatives living in Engaris to cultivate the traditions of the native life of Vallanor, an empire lying in the North behind the Gamenerian Sea. Her father never returned, and they never received any further messages from him. As a result, he was presumed most likely dead. A silver locket bearing a mystical griffon, hanging on Namaris’ neck, was the only keepsake from him. At her uncle’s request, she never took it off, wearing it around her neck day and night.

Her uncle was always saying it was part of her family legacy and a part of her identity she should respect because it was the only thing linking her with her past and ancestry; it was her family’s crest.

Namaris remained obedient to her uncle, a lawyer who was the administrator of one of the estates of the nomarch Bahume. The nomarch governed the provinicial second sepat of the Engaris Empire. Namaris had to admit the marriage proposal was extremely tempting. Her aunt wouldn’t consider an inappropriate or irresponsible candidacy, even though she’d rather her match was some other Vallanorish nobleman. However, the Engar, with his birth and position, was a great temptation, even though her aunt had attached great significance to doing things only by tradition. The language of Caesars was spoken at home, and all of the servants and slaves came from her family’s country.

It was the son of the nomarch himself who broke down her aunt’s resistance. Namaris had asked her relatives several times why they had settled in Engaris if her aunt loved her family’s country. When she never received a satisfying answer, she finally stopped enquiring.

In the evening, she went down to the main chamber of the homestead. Her aunt, Mrs. Salene, was lying on the sofa with a friend and both were listening to poems recited by the local poet. Namaris waited until the artist finished reading and the ladies applauded.

“Dignified Aunt,” she said, asking for the usual permission for conversation.

Everyone’s eyes turned to stare at her.

“Can I visit Amaniris tomorrow afternoon and stay with her for a week? I got an invitation by mail just yesterday.”

“Amaniris?” Salene paused for a moment. “Ah yes. Is this the daughter of the main architect of the building of the temple in Buher?”

“Yes, Aunt. I would like to take part in the procession in honour of Finieri.”

Dignified Salena thought for a moment. “I think your uncle will have nothing against it if you stay under the care of your friend’s family. Just remember, you come from a respectable family; don’t bring dishonor on us,” she warned.

Namaris knew her aunt was well aware that after formal celebrations, Engars would be celebrating and feasting in their houses. Finieri was the goddess of beauty, love and art, so young people used this holiday to satisfy their sexual urges and so-called fun. As a Vallanorian, Namaris wasn’t prudish, but she adhered to the image of the perfect woman being a faithful wife, not reveling on the feasts. Namaris promised to care for her respect, bowed gracefully and walked away.