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  Breaking The Suun

  Legends of the Fallen Book 5

  J.A. Culican

  Cassidy Taylor

  Breaking the Suun © copyright 2019 J.A. Culican

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. Trademark names appear throughout this book. Rather than trademark name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities or resemblance to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-099467-42-4

  Hardback ISBN: 978-1-949621-11-2

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  I felt like I’d been holding my breath for three years without even knowing it. The farther away the Iron Duchess flew from Barepost the lighter I felt, and not just because we were flying, though that certainly didn't hurt.

  “Do you feel it too?” I asked Stiarna. We perched on the main mast’s yardarm, the sail billowing out and rippling beneath us. This had become our favorite place on the entire ship these last couple days. When Arun didn't have us swabbing decks, or running around tying down ropes and sails, this was where we were.

  She blinked at me, and then turned her face back into the wind. It ruffled the brown feathers at her neck. She made a happy clucking sound I thought was as close to an agreement as I would get from her.

  “Frida!” Arun called from below, where he stood with both hands on the wheel. The elf looked right at home, his hair windblown, and his cheeks ruddy from being in the sun so long. He dressed in a light tunic and linen pants rolled just past his ankles and belted at the waist. His feet were bare. He didn't look like a gentry elf or a miner anymore. He looked like a sailor. Like a captain. “Look.” He pointed straight ahead.

  I pulled myself to my feet, holding to the rigging for balance, and shaded my eyes with my hand to look where he was pointing. In the distance, a small plateau rose out of the veil, like a fish sticking its head out of water. Instead of the usual tangle of untamed forest, though, this plateau seemed to be someone’s home. Except for a small grove on the northernmost edge, most of the trees had been cleared and the plateau’s top was a large, intricate garden. There were colorful bushes and flowers, large stone fountains, and a winding hedge maze. In the middle was a large stone building. Best of all? There wasn't a monster in sight.

  I climbed down the rigging, Stiarna leaping gracefully after me. The wing which had been injured by the ur’gel was still bound to her side, but it did not seem to hinder her catlike agility. I knew she longed to fly, though. I thought that was why she sat those long hours on the yardarm with me. Up there, I could almost believe we were flying again, just the two of us as we had that once. It was the only other time in recent memory I could remember feeling carefree.

  “Is that the temple?” I asked Arun, coming to stand beside him. We were the only ones on deck, the others preferring to spend their time mostly in the crew’s quarters or the galley, a few of them looking a little green around the gills. Especially my big brother, Erik.

  “This is it,” he confirmed.

  The pale stone structure on the plateau was tall with dozens of domed towers clustered together. Instead of thatching, though, the roof was made of some type of red metal that reflected the sun. Arun turned the ship. The sunlight flashed brightly, seeming to follow us as we moved in our slow circle. He pushed on the lever beside the wheel and we began to descend, aiming right for the center of the garden.

  “Are we landing?” Grissall asked as she and Xalph emerged from the crew’s quarters, followed close behind by my siblings, Erik and Estrid, and the spare adventurers we had picked up on the way out of Barepost—Beru and Aria. They gathered by the railing, looking down.

  A woman emerged from the temple, her hand over her eyes as she watched us. She seemed to glow, her orange gown sparkling as she moved, hair covered by a matching hood. Her neck and fingers were adorned with golden jewelry I could see even at this distance, but it didn’t seem pretentious like it did on Stephan Luthair, Governor of Barepost. It seemed, instead, to be a mere part of her persona. As though she would be incomplete without it.

  “Da would never believe this,” Xalph said, leaning far over the edge.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, drawing him back. His dad was Haklang, the foreman of the Barepost mine, and he’d only let Arun escape if we promised to take Xalph with us. He’d grown up in the mines, even been crushed in a cave-in that crippled one of his legs and took an eye. Having spent the first ten years of his life underground, he saw everything with new eyes and loved every bit of it.

  “Who is that?” Grissall asked. She was the daughter of the innkeeper, Gerves, who had taken pity on us and let us live at his inn for three years while we scraped out a living on Barepost. Even though she was several years older, she and Xalph had become fast friends, bonding as the youngest members of our crew.

  “The priest,” Erik answered. “She serves the light.”

  “Lunla,” Aria supplied. She and Beru had spent time here before, which was why they’d chosen to consult with this priest about my identity.

  “And the ur’gels?” Xalph asked. “They serve the dark?”

  “I think that’s safe to assume,” my brother conceded.

  Far enough away I couldn’t hear what they were saying, Aria and Beru talked excitedly to each other. It reminded me why we were here, and my stomach tightened with anxiety. I touched the mark beside my eye. The five-pointed star Beru had called the mark of Onen Suun. He believed because of it, I was destined to save the world. I hoped this priest of light would be able to tell him—and everyone else—otherwise.

  Eventually, Arun ordered us away from the railing and began barking orders to prepare us for landing. Half of what he said—or maybe more—I didn’t understand, but I tried to do my best, adjusting sails and rudders as directed. The ship lurched to a stop, rocking perilously before settling with a groan in the middle of the temple’s garden.

  Stiarna was the first off the ship, leaping over the side and disappearing into the shrubbery, likely heading toward the grove we’d seen from the sky in search of small prey. Arun and Erik lowered the gangplank and guided the other passenger
s off the ship. When I passed Erik he gripped my hand, looking like he wanted to say something, but then he released me, and I continued down the walkway. I knew he was angry with me, but I could only hope he would be able to forgive me. Maybe once this was over, once we were en route to our home in Bor’sur, he would realize that what I’d done to get us out of Barepost had been necessary. That the choices I’d been given were not choices at all.

  It was nice to be back on solid ground. The grass was soft beneath my feet, the air smelled sweet and earthy. The priest stood in front of us, arms crossed as she took stock of us, waiting until Erik and Arun had joined us to speak.

  “I am Lunla.” She crossed a hand over her chest and lowered her head in a small bow. “Priest of light, and warden of this temple. I welcome you to this blessed place, familiar friends and strangers.” She beckoned us to follow her, so we did, trailing behind her in a straight line like ducklings, up the stairs and into the temple.

  Past the foyer, we found ourselves in what seemed to be some kind of grand meeting room. The ceilings arched high overhead, supported by thick stone columns, rows of benches faced away from us, and at the front of the room was a raised dais. Behind the dais, an altar squatted in front of a massive, floor-to-ceiling glass window. These windows lined the walls on either side. Each of them was stained a different color, so the room was cast in colorful lights.

  It made complete sense to me why someone might choose to serve the light, as lovely as it was in that moment.

  Xalph was obviously taken by it, immediately setting off to explore with Grissall on his heels.

  Lunla stopped halfway into the room and turned back to us, tucking her hands inside her sleeves. “Tell me, how may I serve you?” she asked politely.

  Beru pulled me forward from where I’d been lingering in the back of the group, my face turned toward the stone ceiling, studying the intricate carvings there. I stumbled a bit over my own two feet, but Beru caught me, standing me upright in front of the priest. She looked at me with polite disinterest, her lips pressed into a dull smile, then turned back to Beru. He still had one hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm. I would have shaken him off, but I was too nervous to do even that.

  “I believe I have found Onen Suun’s heir, the key to saving the world from the Dark.”

  Lunla watched Beru for another long second, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, she held up a hand. As if from nowhere, two younger women, girls really, dressed in the orange robes of the priests, appeared. “Girls,” Lunla said without turning to look at them. “Please, show our guests the gardens. I would like to have a word in private with Sir Beru.”

  Relieved, I turned to follow Erik and the rest, but stopped when Lunla added, “And his Suun heir.”

  Erik glanced back once, but I nodded at him, letting him know it was fine. It was probably better to get this over with anyway. They left through a small side door which clicked quietly behind them, leaving the three of us alone in the cavernous room.

  When he couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Beru spoke quickly, “I recognize her by the star beside her eye. As you know, Onen Suun had the same mark, a blessing from the Creator.”

  “Hmm.” Lunla made the noise low in her throat, and I couldn’t tell if it was a noise of disbelief, disapproval, or maybe even agreement. Finally, she turned her gaze to the mark beside my eye.

  I stood uncomfortably, waiting for her verdict.

  But she did not respond right away. Instead, she turned away and walked toward the front of the room. It was fair to say she glided rather than walked, her footsteps light and silent. Beru and I, on the other hand, clomped behind her, our boots thudding against the stone floor. A nondescript girl who had been tending the altar behind the dais peeked over her shoulder, saw us coming, and darted away, disappearing through some other hidden doorway. The place made me uneasy, with all its secret passages.

  On the altar was a glass bowl of clear water reflecting light onto the ceiling, and on the other side, a metal bowl of smoldering embers glowing subtly orange. Lunla took an iron poker and stoked the coals, sparks jumping and crackling.

  Without turning back to us, she said, “The light comes to us in many different forms.” She went to the water, dipped in the two fingers of her right hand, and touched them to her forehead before turning back around.

  I wished she’d hurry up.

  “Two hundred years ago, it came to us in the form of a man called Onen Suun. His light extinguished the dark, but the darkness is emerging once again.” She turned to look at Beru, ignoring me completely. “Sir Beru, just as last time, you will have an important role to play in what is coming, but you should not look to this girl for your answers.”

  My shoulders slumped with relief, but only until I'd processed her words. She had not said I wasn't the Suun heir, just that it was none of Beru’s concern.

  Beru seemed to realize this, too. “I don’t know what else to do. The Light Woman was a dead end. I bring you the Suun heir and you tell me I’m looking in the wrong place. I don’t know where to go from here.”

  Lunla raised her eyebrows. “I did not say you were looking in the wrong place. But perhaps you are searching for the wrong thing.”

  Beru opened his mouth to continue but the priest held up two fingers again, and the small girl we'd seen earlier reappeared, a broom in her hand.

  “Please escort Sir Beru and his companion, Aria, into town so that they may continue their quest elsewhere.”

  “And the others?” Beru asked, looking from her, to me, and then back again.

  I was just as confused as he was.

  Lunla clasped her hands in front of her, her orange sleeves draping over her wrists and nearly brushing the dark red rug on the floor. She smiled serenely at Beru, as a mother might indulge a curious child. “Do not worry for them. You came into each other's lives when it was necessary. Here is where your paths diverge.”

  “This way,” said the girl, opening a door and gesturing for Beru to follow.

  After a small hesitation, he did, without a glance back at me.

  When the door had closed behind them, Lunla turned back to the altar and lowered her head as if in contemplation. A rainbow of colored light—red and orange and green—fell across her shoulders.

  I didn't dare speak or move. I barely even breathed. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to disturb her as it was I didn’t want her to remember I was there. I didn’t want her to turn her attention to me and say something reinforcing Beru’s idea I was the Suun heir, because I knew deep down in my bones I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. And I didn't know how to tell a priest she was wrong.

  It wasn’t long, though, before she broke the silence. “Your journey also does not end here.” She turned from the altar and moved past me to sit on the front bench, her legs crossed primly at the ankles. She didn’t invite me to join her.

  “I never thought it did,” I told her.

  “But it also is not yet over. If I may give you one piece of advice, it would be this: open your mind. Be prepared for what you might find. That it might be unexpected. That your role in this might be greater than you intend. But the unexpected is not always bad.”

  For me, it almost always had been. “Am I the Suun heir, though?”

  Luna sighed, for the first time looking a little tired, her serene mask dropping. “Unfortunately, that information is not in my realm of knowledge. But, if I were the one steering this destiny, I would not be so quick to label any one person the savior of the world.”

  It reminded me of what Arun had said to me a few days ago before we’d left the plateau above Barepost. That no one could get by without a little help. Maybe she was right and Onen Suun’s legacy didn’t lie with any one of us, but with all of us.

  In which case, we were fairly certainly doomed.

  Chapter 2

  I batted Erik’s sword away with my own and thrust forward once, twice, three times, before driving the blade home, stopping a breath from his che
st.

  He grumbled and stepped away, throwing his sword to the ground.

  “You must fight through the pain,” Estrid insisted, but Erik wasn’t listening.

  He was pacing, rubbing his arm through the white linen bandage and grimacing at the touch. He’d been burned in the galestone explosion, and then used the arm to fight off Luthair’s men on the plateau. Aria told him the damage to the nerves might be permanent and he would just have to work through the pain or let it rest. Erik did not believe in rest.

  “Don’t be so hard on him,” I snapped at her.

  “He’s going to have to learn.”

  “And he will. Give him time.”

  She bared her teeth at me, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. One of the girls had shaved one side of it for her last night, but she’d left the other side long. Instead of making her look lopsided, she looked even fiercer than before. “Want to fight someone your own size?” she quipped, a joke we often tossed back and forth at each other, both of us being smaller than Erik.

  I spread my arms, sword in one hand, ax in the other, welcoming her. She bounced off the stone wall where she’d been sitting and crossed the grass, a short sword in each hand. Erik was the only one of us who fought with a shield, and only because he was big enough to use it as a weapon. Even though Estrid and I were larger than the average human woman—and even the average human male—we both found a shield too burdensome. Though we’d seen Erik smash in enough faces with it to understand its purpose.

  Estrid wasted no more time posturing. She came at me in a whirl of blades, but I knew all her tricks. I’d been watching her and Erik train since before I ever picked up a weapon. I still remembered the chilly winter mornings on the cliff, perched in the twisted branches of a live oak tree while they sparred back and forth below me, each pushing the other closer and closer to the edge. My heart had always been in my throat, watching them in their intricate, dangerous dance. When I was finally old enough to join them, neither of them had ever pushed me as hard or as far as they did each other. It had made me work even harder to prove myself to them. I felt like, in a way, I was still trying.