De Beaumont by Elizabeth A. Freeman (top 10 books to read txt) 📕

Prologue

"Arkanus.... Arkanus!" a voice filtered through muted senses, like someone speaking from behind a thick veil.

"Who's there...? Who is calling me?" Arkanus thought hazily. His mind turned over and he tried to look around to gather his location. Nothingness yawned out around him, an infinite blackness that he floated upon like the surface of a calm sea.

"Arkanus, wake up!" the voice called again, this time closer and more demanding. The insistent voice chafed at Arkanus like an unwelcome guest banging at door.

"Go away... It's peaceful here. I don't want to go back.." he breathed the words into the void, yet even as he said them he became keenly aware that he wasn't sure where it was exactly that he didn't want to return to or where he was currently.

"You will obey me, Arkanus! You must awaken, for your duty is finally about to come to fruition. I require your powers, and only you can fulfill this destiny!" the disembodied voice roared across Akranus' senses, chasing away the indifferent numbness that he felt cocooned in.

"Who are you?" he yelled back, curiosity beginning to take root.

"The time for you to know who I am will come, but for now you need to awaken. Go, and you shall find me." the voice commanded, and as it did so the endless darkness peeled back. Heat like blazing needles seared through Arkanus' flesh and light blinded him, forcing him to fling up his arms to protect his vision. A rasping shriek tore itself from his throat as his body convulsed and he felt small particles shower him. Gradually his eyes adjusted, and the pain that crept over his body ebbed enough that he could lower his arms and sit himself upright.

"Where... am I?" he muttered as he took in his scenery. He was seated in a wooden box in a hole in the ground and around him tombstones jutted out of the earth in neat well-tended rows. Arkanus' mind struggled to process the information, words and memory flooding back a bit at a time. It was only moments before he realized that the box he was sitting in was a coffin, and the hole was a grave. A twinge of unease shook him and he scrambled to his feet and clawed his way out onto the grass above.

"What the hell... Whose idea of a bad joke is this?" Arkanus growled, as he examined the tombstone of the grave he'd crawled out of. It read:

Arkanus De Beaumont
"Beloved Marksman"
Born 7160
Died 7822

"You've gotta be-" Arkanus started to object to the words engraved on the marble stone but his words were interrupted by a searing burst of pain behind his eyes. Images flashed in his mind, of the life he once had led and his untimely demise. He watched his life play out to his final moments and only when the images ended did the pain in his head cease.

"I.. died. How can that be?" the whispered words escaped chapped lips. He looked down taking in the sight of musty ragged clothes that were all but falling apart at the seams.

"Hey! What are you doing there?!" a brusque voice demanded and Arkanus twisted where he sat to see two figures jogging toward him looking every bit as threatening as they could. Two elf men dressed in gleaming armor weaved between the graves as they made their way toward him with weapons brandished. Fear blossomed in his ribcage and Arkanus jumped to his feet, sprinting to the fence of the graveyard and vaulting over it.

"Halt! Stop you grave robber!" the guards called out behind him but he did not heed their words. Instead Arkanus bolted for the denser woods with every ounce of energy he had. He ran until he could no longer hear the guards' footsteps or shouting voices, only stopping when he reached a small pond nestled among the trees.

"By the gods... This is all madness." he gasped, dropping down to his hands and knees at the edge of the water and peering at his reflection. Despite having been dead for over six hundred years, the face that stared back at Arkanus was not decayed, only smudged with dirt and dust. Somehow, while his clothing had survived rather poorly his body was as intact as it had been before he sustained the lethal wounds that killed him.

Text: Cover photos taken from http://www.morguefile.com
Publication Date: 12-08-2011

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