Rise (War Witch Book 1)

RISE

BOOK ONE of the

WAR WITCH

SAGA

C
AIN
S. L
ATRANI

Booktrope Editions

Seattle, WA 2015

COPYRIGHT 2015 PATRICK CHRISTIAN HOLT

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Cover Design by Amalia Chitulescu

Edited by Wendy Garfinkle

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

PRINT ISBN: 978-1-5137-0320-6

EPUB ISBN:
978-1-5137-0371-8

Library of Congress Control Number:
2015919801

As of the time of this writing, it has been seventeen years since the idea for The Mythic Age first came to me, in a dream of all places. Though, that shouldn’t surprise me so much, as most of my genuinely good ideas seem to arrive in that fashion.

In that time, I’ve worked to fully detail the world. It’s an ongoing effort, and one I now know will never truly be finished. The Mythic Age is simply too big, too complex, for me to ever fully capture.

I can, and will, spend the rest of my life trying to detail the myriad aspects of this world. The history, cultures, and beliefs that shape and drive it. To my last day, I will tell stories set within it, for there are so many worthy of being told.

It is a task I will never finish, and I know that. Honestly, it makes me smile. A world should never be easy to describe.

Fortunately, I’m not alone in this endeavor. Since the first thought of it came to me, that dream that introduced me to the Gods and their struggle, and the Blessed who serve them, I’ve had help in capturing The Mythic Age on paper.

Fully half, at least, of what makes up the history and ways of The Mythic Age has come from the love of my life, fellow writer, best friend, and inspiration for everything I do.

Storm DeVille, the very heart that beats in my chest, loves the world of The Mythic Age as much as I do, and has dedicated the last seventeen years to fleshing it out alongside me. Without her, it wouldn’t be what it is. Her hand, alongside mine, has guided this creation into something massive, and beautiful.

My thanks will never be enough.

Our world, my love, still grows, and its tales of epic heroes, are legend.

The Three Ages Of The Middle World

IN THE BEGINNING
, there was the Void. Empty, dark, endless, and cold, it existed alone and knew not what it truly was.

After an unmeasurable eternity, it became aware of its own emptiness and solitude. For some time, it considered this and finally chose to learn more about itself.

Thus was born Rialda, the great Crow Goddess, whose black feathers glittered in the Void.

So it was that the Void sent Rialda forth to examine it more closely, so that it might learn what was held within itself. But as Rialda soared through the endless emptiness, she found only nothing.

Returning to the place of her creation and telling the Void of what she’d learned, she thought she was to be unmade, reunited with the Void. But the Void had all but forgotten why it had created her by this time and had grown sleepy.

“Resolve this for me,” it instructed her before wrapping itself into its black cloak and going to sleep.

Rialda pondered this new request for some time before setting off to fulfill it.

So it came to pass that Rialda traveled to the heart of the Void and there built a nest from the very essence of the Void, while being careful not to wake it.

In this ebony nest, she laid three eggs, the first bright orange, the second pure white, and the third as black as the Void itself.

In time, the eggs hatched. From the first came a Tiger, his coat glowing so brightly it lit up the Void itself.

“I shall name you Grannax, and it shall mean Lights the Void,” his mother told him.

From the second egg was born a white Tigress, and her coat also glowed, but not as brightly as did her brother’s.

“I shall name you Isel, and it shall mean Shines in the Void,” Rialda told her.

From the third egg was born a black Tigress, whose very coat seemed to swallow up the light of the other two.

“I shall name you Ker Zet, and it shall mean Carries the Void,” Rialda told her.

And so it came to pass that Rialda left the three to do as they would, promising to return.

Grannax quickly grew tired of the emptiness and chose to create the World. Once it was done, he turned it slowly in his paws, inspecting it carefully. The glow of his coat warmed the surface, bringing forth the trees and the plants.

Isel stood on the other side of the World, but didn’t like how she was always in darkness. Taking some of her fur, she threw it into the Void, forming the stars and constellations.

Ker Zet watched, but soon realized there was nothing she could add to this, and her heart knew only bitterness.

So it was that Ker Zet snuck down upon the surface of the World to look around and see what the other two may have overlooked when creating it. She knew that if Grannax caught her, he would be very angry, so she hid from his face behind many things, from trees to rocks, never knowing that everywhere she hid, she left darkness behind her.

As time passed, the two sisters constantly rivaled each other for their brother’s affection, a battle Isel finally won by covering Grannax’s eyes, and plunging the World into darkness, surprising him with the cleverness of this trick.

Grannax took Isel to be his mate, and Ker Zet’s heart knew hatred.

So it was that Grannax and Isel came to have many children, and each child brought with it something new into the World. And with each new child and each new creation, Ker Zet’s hatred consumed her a little more, until at last she formed a plan.

She waited until Isel had gone down to walk in the World with her children, and then the black Tigress snuck into the bed chamber of Grannax and bound him with the sacred metal in the form of chains she’d forged, and drugged him heavily.