Release Day!

Hello everyone!

It’s release day for Shadows of Kankor! I can’t believe it is finally time for me to release it into the world. It’s taken longer than I thought but I’m happy with how it’s turned out. 

Here’s the blurb:

An epic fantasy that explores a brand new world. But a world that is far older than anyone ever knew.

- Shadows of Kankor: Book Two of The BrightStone Saga -

In “Shadows of Kankor,” the realm of Kankor is engulfed in mayhem and devastation, thrusting our heroes into a harrowing battle against a relentless horde of daemons.

A young leader grapples with the heavy burden of loss, haunted by the ghosts of the past. A wise monk's unshakable faith is pushed to its limits by the unforgiving chaos that surrounds him. Meanwhile, a king poised on the precipice of victory must confront a momentous decision that will shape the destiny of all Antar.

The beloved characters we've come to cherish find themselves scattered and shattered, facing a future shrouded in darkness. As the epic saga unfolds, the glimmer of hope remains, a beacon urging them to rise above the ruins and valiantly defend the world they hold dear.

Prepare to journey deeper into The BrightStone Saga, where the fate of these indomitable heroes unfolds in the relentless face of adversity. Join us and witness the next enthralling chapter of this epic saga.

And also as a sneak teaser, here is the first chapter: 

- CHAPTER ONE -

Matti

“Daemons,” Matti whispers. 

“What did you say?” asks Graliss, the guard’s grey beard whipping in the wind as his face drops at the mention of the word. 

“Daemons, Graliss. I said… Daemons. Look,” she says, passing the spyglass back.

He takes it with a shaky hand, swallowing hard. He licks his lips, hesitating. He twists back and forth, his mind reeling at the mere thought. 

“Graliss, look.”

Reluctantly, he lifts the spyglass to his eye. He squints not wanting to believe, but then his vision becomes clear enough to see past the cracked lens. “What in the Gods… are they?” His mouth widens as he watches a sea of black descend across the western land of Norridan. A great shadow spreads toward them faster than an army of galloping horses. “The Gods have deserted us, My Lady. We must go. We must go now!” Graliss drops the spyglass and replaces it in a pouch before moving closer to Matti. “My Lady, I must ensure your safety. We must go.”

“I know,” she nods. “But there is something I must get before we go. I need—”

“There is no time, My Lady. We must—”

She holds out a hand to stop him, “I have to get something for the King, Graliss.” She pauses before speaking again. “It is important, very important.”

“Very well, My Lady.” He turns back to the west, his eyes searching for any gap or sign of relief. “But we must do this now. That,” he points, “wall of black is coming quicker than anything I have ever seen.” He turns back to her now, his face pale. “Lead the way, My Lady.”

Inhaling deeply, Matti sets herself for what’s to come. She stares at her guard, old enough to be her father, and instantly regrets it as the memories flood her mind. She shakes it off grimacing. “This way then.” She turns from the battlements and strides towards the arched opening leading to the spiral stairs. “We need to go to the throne room.”

“Let me lead, My Lady. I know a quicker way.” Graliss moves in front of her just as they reach the archway, his polished armour glinting in the light of the suns. The polished surface darkens as he moves into the stairwell. “I just hope we can make it that far,” he whispers.

“What was that, Graliss?” 

He turns before looking away, his feet moving downwards. “I hope we make it that far before we are overrun.”

“Oh,” Matti pauses. She looks down, not wanting to think this could be it. “Have faith, Graliss. We must fight, and fight we will. Have you a family?”

He shakes his head, “No, My Lady. I am a servant of the crown and loyal to it.”

“I am alone as well. We are alike in that way.”

“But you have the King, My Lady.”

“I do, yes. But he is not here, so I must do what I can to stay alive, with your help?”

“Of course, My—”

“If we are to do this, please call me Matti. We could likely all die in the next turn or even less than that. I will not have you being so formal. Call me Matti.”

“Very well.” He smiles at her, it is brief, but it gives her a little comfort. “Enough talking for now… Matti. We must go.”

She nods. “Lead the way, Graliss. We must get to the throne room.”

Graliss picks up the pace, his longer strides letting him take the stairs two at a time. He makes it to the bottom and puts on his helm, then draws his long sword, readying for what is to come. Matti reaches the bottom step and pauses as she takes in the hulking form of her guard, ready for battle. 

“What is it, are they here already?”

“No, My… Matti. I am just being cautious. I want to be ready, as much as I can.”

“That is… good.” She pauses; her breath caught in her chest as she stares at the empty corridor ahead. “Which way do we go?”

“This way,” he says, pointing with the tip of his sword before breaking into a slow jog. 

Matti has to lift the hem of her dress just to keep up the pace. Her arms begin to ache before they make it to the end of the corridor, “Damn dresses, I never wanted to wear something so… big!”

“Matti,” says Graliss, turning to her. “Matti, please. We must be quiet if we are to make it there.”

“I am sorry. Please go on.”

With a nod, he turns back and moves off to the left along another corridor. His boots give off a small clack against the flagstones with every step. Matti follows along behind, her now bare feet almost silent against the stones, but her rapid breathing can be heard by all. 

“Calm your breathing if you can, My… Matti. It will help.”

“Are you calm?” 

“Ha,” he scoffs. “No, I am not calm, but I have had more years to practice not showing it.” 

“That does not make me feel any better.” She squints in the gloomy light and rubs at them with the back of her hand before quickening her pace to stay level with Graliss. 

“I did not mean—”

“Do not worry yourself. You did nothing wrong, Graliss.” She peers behind, searching for something she cannot put her mind to. “How far are we still?” 

“We still have a ways to go. We will follow this corridor until the end, then drop down to the next level, then we take a back staircase that comes out close to the throne room.”

“That does not seem too far?”

“If we want to stay hidden, we must be careful. We have to move quietly until we get there.”

“We will make it there. We must, Graliss.”

“I will keep you safe, Matti. I will do my utmost to do so.”

“Thank you, Graliss.”

Matti smiles as she finally relaxes a little. Her arms are sore from holding up her dress, so she drops the hem as they reach the end of the corridor. They make their way down another flight of steps that lead to an ornately decorated hallway bigger than the others. With tapestries hung along one side and the other open to the shining light of the suns beaming through a bank of arched windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. They pause, straining to hear if there has been a breach. 

“I hear nothing, do you?” Matti asks.

Graliss gives a slight shake, “No, I do not.” He looks around at her now, the brown of his eyes catching the light, making them sparkle. “It bothers me. It is too quiet, I fear.”

“Let us go, Graliss. Before—”

Screams reach them from outside making them falter. Matti’s resolve breaks as she dashes to the windows.

“My Lady… Matti! Come away from the windows,” Graliss hisses. “We cannot help them.” 

“I need to see them. I must Graliss.” Then she stops as her emerald eyes take in the devastation below. 

Her eyes flick from left to right then back again, not understanding the full extent of what has befallen them all. The greyed stone of the walls are crawling with a thick mass of black. The black-skinned daemons writhe over, dropping down with the agility of a cat on a hunt. Her eyes go wide as tears begin to form in the creases then drop, running down her face as the daemon creatures swarm through the capital like locusts, erasing everything in their path. The shouts of men, women and children can be heard all around. The sound infects Matti, boring into her very soul.

“We are… lost,” she utters through soft lips.

Graliss pulls her away and marches her along the corridor. “Enough! You do not need to see anymore.”

“No, Graliss. I must see the people. I need to know how it ends. How we end.”

“We have not the time. If we want to live, we must go now.” He stops, his grey beard swaying with his movement as he turns to look at her. “I made a promise to keep you safe, My La… Matti. One that I intend to keep.” He nods to her, his face stern. “You must be selfish. As a future queen, you must be.”

“But —”

“You must, Matti. For the sake of what is happening, you must survive this onslaught. You must forget about the people as hard as that is.” He stares at her waiting. 

“O… kay,” she says with a nod.

His face softens, turning his eyes kinder as they wrinkle at the sides. “Good. Now, let’s go, shall we?”

“Yes. Lead on.” 

Releasing Matti from his grip, Graliss forges on, sword ready for the slightest hint of attack.

They make their way through the corridor in silence. They take another flight of steps finally making it to the bottom where the throne room, great hall, kitchens and various other grand rooms are. Graliss pauses, holding up a gauntleted hand to Matti. He peers around the corner, his sword tip an inch from the floor. Turning back, he motions to Matti to move. Graliss steps around the corner and stops, his feet rooted to the stone beneath him. Standing a mere five paces ahead of them is a daemon. Black-skinned with eyes of pure white stare at them both. 

Matti stands motionless, fixated on her death. Her heart thumps against her chest trying in vain to escape and her skin becomes cold and clammy. By… the… Gods! We are all going to die. She sees a flicker from the corner of her eye, and then she watches as Graliss, sword held high, rushes forward, moving quicker than a man his age has any right to do. 

He charges with a bellow, “For House Baal! And my queen!” His steps are lightning, his hands smooth as he swings his long sword slashing across the body of the black-skinned daemon. But where there should have been resistance, his slice hits thin air, the daemon gone from in front of his face and now stands behind.

Matti watches all of this no more than ten paces behind. She stares in horror, mouth agape as the creature turns to her with a grin showing small, sharpened teeth. Then twists back and slashes Graliss with hand-held blades. They dig deep, cutting into his armour and flesh alike. The creature slashes again, then a third and fourth time in quick succession then watches as the hulking man falls to his knees and topples forward without a sound.

“No,” Matti sighs, the sound no more than a whisper. “No, not you too.” She gulps trying to breathe but her body refuses her. Heart beating faster than before, her skin cold and her feet immovable from where she stands, Matti is stuck. Her life here with the king, to be a future queen, is no more. She will die here alone, torn apart by an animal, a daemon.

Tears begin to run freely now as the daemon turns its attention to her. The pure, white eyes stare, unblinking as blood almost black in the gloom drips from the blades at the end of the creature's fingers.

“You will dieee… like the others. All will dieee,” it hisses smoothly, the sound melodic almost. 

“I… I will…I—”

“Do not wastes your breath, hu-man.” It steps closer as if floating.

“I…”

“I will makes it quick.” It takes another fluid step closer.

With the last shred of stubbornness, something alights inside, warming her. She blinks, finally able to move the tiniest bit. “No,” comes a whisper.

It makes the creature pause, now less than two paces from her, the razor claws clacking together in anticipation when the sound of boots slapping against the flagstones interrupts them. Matti’s heart lifts at the thought of living. Then her face drains of colour as the creature smirks, showing the tiny, sharpened teeth once more before it turns to the dozen soldiers that had just rounded the corner up ahead.

Shouts of “There’s one,” and “Die scum!” can be heard before they take in the scene around them. A few notice her standing beyond the black-skinned creature and she hears the shouts of, “Lady Matti,” before they charge at it. 

The daemon turns back smirking, “Do not goes anywhere.” It twists and shoots forward, its blade-like fingers flashing in the torchlight.

“Go,” says a raspy voice almost too quiet to hear. It breaks Matti from her trance, and she stares down at the ruined back of Graliss, his head shifts and he catches her with a piercing gaze. “Go,” he rasps, “save yourself.” His head drops and his eyes glaze over. 

Staring at the scuffle further along the corridor, Matti, her senses returning, can hear the dying screams of men and women closer than before. The death of the soldiers and from somewhere else. The court. Where are th— 

Before she can finish the thought, she is yanked towards the throne room doors by a robed figure, their hand clamped tightly around her wrist. She braces herself at the touch then sees that it is a human hand and relents, too tired to do anything else. She lets herself be pulled through the ancient oak doors of the throne room. The hand lets her go and she carries on another few paces before stopping. She whirls around to see the doors slamming shut and a thick, wooden beam falling into the iron straps barricading the door from the inside.

Matti coughs and almost falls, her body and soul drained and exhausted. The robed figure turns and slumps against the doors, slipping to the floor looking just as exhausted as her. 

“My thanks. Eh… who are—”

She is cut off as the hood falls to reveal a familiar face.

“Vlaken?” she whispers. “It is you, Vlaken, thank you.” She strides over and falls on him, hugging him tightly.

“Lady Matti, it is… my honour to help,” he gasps. “But this is inappropriate, I feel.”

“Nonsense,” she says, letting go. “We are to be family, Vlaken. Well, if we survive, I am to be queen, then we will be family. Also, just Matti, okay?”

“What? I do not understand, Lady Matti.”

“Matti, call me Matti.”

“Very well,” he nods, looking around the throne room. The windows are high, with small slits for defence, the smooth, chiselled walls have mounted banners with the sigil of House Baal, and the lavish throne encrusted with gems and inlaid with gold that sits on a dais high in the middle. “I am afraid that I have sealed our fate, Matti. I have just barricaded the only way out. It is nice to know we would have been family, but—”

“Who said there are no other doors?” She grins now, with a shred of energy back in her bones. “We are safe for a wh—”

“My Lady,” a voice hisses. Then a scraping sound can be heard from the other side of the door. “You thinks… you are safe in there?”

“Is that the… creature?” whispers Vlaken.

Matti nods, “Yes. And it cannot get in here!” she shouts defiantly, then almost breaks as the exhaustion kicks in once again.

“We will sees,” it hisses.

Silence falls, no more screams or the sounds of fighting.

“I cannot hear anything, can you?” she asks.

“No,” he replies with a shake of his head.

“They are all dead,” she whispers to herself. “Oh, Graliss,” she sobs, letting the tears flow freely now. She lets it out, all the pain and loss. 

After several moments, Matti blinks away the remainder of the tears, brushes back her hair, and wipes at her face with the back of a hand. “We must go, Vlaken. Before they break through. But there is something that we must get first, then we leave.”

“If you know a way out, we need to go now.” He pleads with her, his eyes deep pools as if he’d been sleep-deprived for days. “Is there really a way out?”

“This is important, Vlaken. A task from the king, and yes, there is a way out. Neymar showed me himself.”

Vlaken’s face brightens and his eyes sparkle as he gets to his feet. “As long as we can get out, yes?”

“Help me up?” she asks, holding out a hand. 

“Of course, My La… Matti,” he corrects himself as he helps her to her feet. 

“Thank you. Come, I will show you a secret of the citadel that many do not know. This way.” 

Matti strides across the spacious room heading for the area behind the throne itself. Stopping, she motions for Vlaken to come closer, before disappearing behind the enormous chair. 

“Matti?” he questions aloud.

“I am still here, Vlaken. Behind the throne, come.”

“Very well,” he whispers, moving closer.

“Look here,” she points. “The scrollwork running along the back of here.”

“Yes, I see it. But what does it mean?”

“Neymar told me it is from the ancient language. I cannot read it, but he told me what it means. It is the only way to open the passageway.”

“How does the King know the ancient language? I know he has his Mag’i, but they cannot read it either, can they?”

“I do not know. I think he has been looking for something. He does not tell me everything as you can assume, but he tasked me with retrieving something if anything ever happened here.”

“Well, something has happened now, I’ll say that.”

‘BOOM!’ 

“What was that?” asks Vlaken, his eyes going wide as he edges closer to Matti. 

Another smash echoes through the throne room followed by the sound of cracking wood.

“They are trying to break through the doors.”

“Sounds like they are breaking through,” he squeaks. 

“So let us not be here when they do, okay?” She smiles meekly.

“I’m all for that, Matti. What does it say?”

‘BOOM!’

“Hurry, Matti. Please.”

“Yes, right.” She runs a finger across the ancient scripture uttering words under her breath as more creaking and the splintering of wood fills the space all around them. “Baal I det shor minesaf. Opn wi heartstone.” She moves back, waiting, her eyes transfixed on the runes in front of her.

“What is happening?” asks Vlaken. “Is something meant to happen? Where is the door?” he panics. 

“I do not… know. I said the words, didn’t I?”

Another creak, louder than before, followed by an eerie chittering noise that fills their ears. A noise that compels them to freeze. To stay utterly still for eternity. Then another clash overpowers the noise, bringing them both back to their senses. 

“What… was that?” Matti mouths.

Shaking his head, Vlaken peeks around the corner of the throne, staring at the door. “You need to say the words again, that door will not hold for much longer.”

“Okay, think Matti. What did he tell you? Baal I det shor minesaf tu vu. Opn wi heartstone. No, that wasn’t it.”

“Hurry, Matti.”

“Wid Baal, I det shor minesaf. Opn wi heartstone. Is that it?” she wonders. “No, there was something else, what was—”

Another splintering of wood and the eerie chittering replies, the noise almost unrecognisable to the human ear. 

“I have it!” she shouts.

“Well, say it then!”

“Wid Baal I det shor minesaf tu vu. Opn wi mine heartstone!” 

The words tumble from her mouth, the sounds strange against her tongue. She watches as the chittering becomes louder with every passing moment. Then the scripture brightens, turning a deep crimson the colour of blood before the grinding of stone fills the air. The throne slowly slides forward to reveal a narrow opening with stone steps leading down. 

“Go!” Matti shouts at the sound of more wood splintering.

“No, you must go fir—”

“I need to close it behind us. There is no time, go!”

Vlaken, eyes wide at the demand, throws himself down the steep staircase and Matti steps in after. Ducking, she reaches up, touching the base of the throne where the scripture ends, “Clos wi mine heartstone.” She pulls her hand away as the grinding signals the throne moving back into place. 

“Not that easys,” hisses a voice. 

Matti turns to see the daemon who had killed Graliss, his mouth open as if to feed on her mere inches away.

“Ahh!” she screams as it reaches a razor-fingered hand forward, grabbing at her. “Vlaken!” 

“Come, Lady,” it hisses again.

Matti tries to move further down the staircase but is caught by the black-skinned hand. It wraps around her wrist, the blades digging into her flesh making her scream. The creature pulls, almost yanking her free but is stopped as Vlaken grabs her around the waist, holding her.

“Noo,” moans the daemon as the grinding of stone continues. The throne painstakingly retracts, slowly cutting off the space between them.

“Pull me, Vlaken. Do not let this monster take me, please!”

“You are mines!” it speaks, pulling harder. 

They play tug of war with her, the time shortening with every passing moment as the throne continues to close.

“Pull, Vlaken!” she screams, bracing against the narrow wall. Then with a final yank, a blood-curdling scream rings through them all as the throne grinds to a halt. Matti and Vlaken tumble down the last few steps with the black-skinned arm still attached to her wrist, its grip still tight.

⛬

“Ahhh! My arms!” seethes the daemon Oskari as it flails around, dark, blue liquid spraying the throne with its lifeblood.

“Silence, you wretch,” a voice chitters. 

The Oskari quiets itself as it clutches its arm close to the elbow. It breathes heavily as a robed figure glides closer. The creature stills, not daring to move as its master moves towards it. “I am—”

“Do not speak.” The voice is quiet but forceful, the tone commanding. “You let them escape.”

The armless Oskari nods, still not daring to speak again. 

“I should let you bleed, yes?” the master asks.

It nods acceptance again, releasing its arm, letting the blue liquid flow once more. 

“But I do not wish that. You are a strong one, young and foolish, but strong. That, we will need, so…” He breathes out, uttering words under his breath, words that even the Oskari do not understand. The master reaches forward and with a single wave, the Oskari’s arm erupts in flame, burning the stump black. The daemon keeps quiet, not even a sigh escapes its blood-coated lips. “Ah, good. You can listen, I see.” The master stares around at the throne room and the other Oskari gathered there. “See,” it chitters. “You are healed.”

The armless Oskari looks up meeting the gold-flecked eyes of its master and bows deeply. “Thank you, High Priest.”

⛬

“Help get this thing off me!” Matti shrieks.

“I can’t see a thing. Is there… I can’t—”

“On the wall somewhere!” her voice harsh, her heart hammering against her chest. “A torch. Flint. Just hurry! I need this thing—”

“I have it,” Vlaken says, cutting her off. 

With the sound of clinking rocks, a spark lights up the darkness momentarily before sending them back. 

“Vlaken,” she moans.

“I’m trying.”

Another spark illuminated the darkness. This time it jumps to the torch soaked in pig fat and erupts in a cool blue flame lighting up the corridor around them. The flame changes slowly to a vibrant orange as it takes.

“Can you help me know?”

“Here, hold this,” Vlaken says, handing her the torch. 

Matti almost fumbles the torch as he hands it over. Her fingers slick with the daemon’s blood. Holding her arm out as best she can, Vlaken carefully uncurls the grip and pulls it from her arm. He throws it down; it lands with a small thud skidding on the slick stone. 

She hands him back the torch. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” He pauses, using the torch to look around. “Where do we go from here?”

“That way,” she points. “Look for an old wooden door that hasn’t been used in cycles.”

He nods and turns. Matti looks back over her shoulder at the dying flesh discarded at the bottom of the stairway, the razor-edged blades still half-curled as if reaching for her. She moves along a narrow corridor with Vlaken a few paces ahead, his eyes searching for the door she had told him about. Shivering, Matti quickens her pace to catch up, squeezing next to him. He turns with a meek smile, and she returns the same back. 

“How far?” Vlaken asks.

“Just up ahead, I think.” She moves past him now wanting to be as far away from the severed arm as she can. It makes her shiver once more, but she shakes it off stopping in front of an ancient-looking door. The wood panelling is broken and half-eaten from mites. “Here.”

“This is it?” Vlaken replies. “It looks as if it hasn’t been opened in cycles. Look at it.”

“It is what’s beyond that matters.” Matti pushes, and the door moves without a sound, the hinges firm, letting it swing inwards and stop out of sight. 

Peering in, the room is dark, too dark to see more than three paces in any direction. Vlaken stops at the threshold, his heart racing, “I cannot see a thing. Why is it so dark?”

“It is an illusion. I had the same thoughts the first time Neymar brought me here.”

“An illusion? Like the tricks the Mag’i perform for the court?”

“Yes, something like that. I’m not sure, an illusion is all he said.” She pauses, giving a last look back towards the stairway then steps inside. 

“Wait,” Vlaken whispers. 

“There is no time,” Matti utters as she becomes one with the darkness, entirely engulfed. 

“What? Where did you go? Matti?” 

Vlaken waits, his eyes attempting to pierce the darkness without success. He turns, searching along the hallway just waiting for the daemons to tumble through the opening and continue hunting them. He twists back and has to grip the side of the doorframe to stop himself bolting as a smooth mist drifts from the darkness, it swirls and moves towards him. Then out of nowhere, Matti appears as if by Majic. 

Vlaken stumbles back, landing heavily against the opposite wall as he sucks in the stale air, not realising he had been holding his breath. 

“I have it,” Matti exclaims with a smirk.

Breathing heavily and licking his lips, Vlaken stares at her with wide eyes. “What is it?” 

“I’m not sure, but we have to go before they find out how to get through there,” Matti points. 

“Right,” Vlaken nods. “That way, I guess,” he asks, pointing away from the stairway.

“Yes. There is a tunnel that leads to the grove.”

“What Grove?” he asks.

“Isys Grove. Neymar assured me it was the only safe way to get there. Come, we should make a start, it could be a long walk.”

“Anywhere that isn’t here, right?”

Matti takes a last look back before they both head deeper along the hallway and towards their salvation.

There it is! The first chapter of Shadows of Kankor. I hope you enjoyed it and you decide to pick up a copy. 

All my links are here:

https://linktr.ee/LeeDawson 

If you fancy reading an epic fantasy story with multiple POV’s, realistic battles and of course, magic! Check out Book One in the series here: https://books2read.com/u/bOdJOK  

I also have a novella called ‘Betrayal’ that is set directly after the events in the prologue from ‘Aurora’. Check it out here: https://books2read.com/u/4j7odl 

I would love you to read them. If you do, please review it, as it helps me out massively. 

Happy reading and thanks,

Lee