Get ready for a mist-cloaked ride into an ancient Celtic fantasy realm in which a scribe priestess is forced to leave her magical island home in search of a sacred archive in the far north. The Scribe, The Sigil, and the Sea King evokes the dark gothic setting in One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig, while exploring unique magical elements reminiscent of Keri Lake’s Anathema. If you enjoy historical fantasy books or epic fantasy series, The Scribe, The Sigil, and the Sea King will keep you riveted.
Chapter 1
“One day your skin will turn green,” my mother always said. But I never imagined it would be like this; not from days spent wandering through ancient woodlands, or evenings plucking spring onions from the ground and devouring them whole. No—my green skin was a result of being submerged in the deep, murky pond at the bottom of my prison cell. Its putrid, stagnant water slowly creeping up my legs like a rising tide. I prayed the rain would hold off.
My eyes leapt up to the rusted iron bars trapping me in my grimy prison cell. The walls were caked with dirt, and each breath filled my lungs with the stench of death and decay. From somewhere in the darkness, I could hear the hum of a dozen flies buzzing around, whilst above loomed the menacing figure of a portly guard, ready to punish any wrong move I made.
The hunger had become a dull ache in my stomach, and every swallow of air felt dry and brittle. I had been in many worse situations than this; after all, I was an expert in clandestine missions. I’d allowed myself to be arrested dozens of times before. Each time, I would get the information needed without raising any alarms and slip away without being detected. My mission was always the same – preserve the priestess hood. Preserve the old religion. Keep the Tree Clans alive.
Darkness descended as the forest outside the town resonated with its nocturnal melody. Frogs croaked their happy mating tunes and wild cats yowled for their young. The trees, my closest friends, whispered comforting words with each passing breeze.
Just as I had allowed myself a moment of standing sleep, the paunchy guard rose from his nap as the night shift guard took over. I heard a faint jangling of keys being passed between two sets of hands, followed by the trudging of heavy heeled boots.
The first man sneered at the second. “Just don’t stand too close to her, Argus,” he spat. “This one’s a volva. What the Angles call a witch. Who knows what kind of devilry she’ll unleash upon you. They say these evil women conjure up the Devil with mere words.”
I struggled to look up through the dingy bars as two sets of beady eyes attached to bald heads leered back at me. I muttered one of my mother’s powerful Lepontic curses, not caring if they heard me.
The second continued, “Bah. I am not afraid. It’s more likely she would turn me into an imp and make me suckle from her teat. And by the looks of her, that’s not a terrible life to live.”
“You should only be so lucky,” I hissed through clenched teeth. A little longer and you will be out of here and free, I reminded myself. Just a little longer.
The wretched two laughed as the first sauntered off, leaving the cruelest of the nightguards behind.
“Hey, are you thirsty?” The man asked with a laugh as he poured a pitcher of putrid, yellow liquid through the prison bars. It cascaded over me, soaking my long hair, face, and my white underdress in what I was sure had to be piss.
I spat out the bitter, fetid fluid and glared at him in rage. “You miserable ingrate! You have no idea who I am!” I shouted.
“How dare you curse me! You don’t deserve a drop of weasel milt!” His boot scraped the ground above sending a cascade of rocks over top of me. I flinched as the gravel fell and clung to my damp hair and skin. It took all I had not to burst through the bars and scratch out his eyes with my fingernails.
I gathered my senses, brushed the debris from my face and dress, and rung out my hair. Then I piled my wet locks on the top of my head in a loose knot. As each minute ticked by, the longing for freedom within me seemed to grow and swell uncontrollably. Ready to burst forth like a raging flood. Every cell in my body screamed let me out! I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and recalled my mission. Not too much longer. Hopefully only one more night. I just needed to extract the secret and get the Hell out of there.
I stared down at my appearance in the moonlight. I lifted my legs from the water, one at a time. The skin on my legs and feet radiated that sickening, moldy hue, my white garment was yellow from urine, and my eyes must have been bright red with rage. Three things comforted me – the moon’s silvery beams, the sound of beating fly-wings, and the reassurance that I would soon be home in Senna, safe and sound.
I had just given in to a nightmarish, twilight sleep when hope arrived in the form of a despicable man’s whispers. I stood on tip-toes and wrenched my neck to hear the conversation five feet above me.
“It’s as the council suspected. He’s made a deal with Hangist,” a familiar, whistly voice squeaked to the nightguard. It was the local Lord spilling the exact information I had been expecting. “Horsa is not aware. Tomorrow, you arrest the wife. Tell no one.”
“But what about her, Lord?”
I held my breath and stood as still as a wooden idol, allowing the water around me to stop its incessant sloshing.
“Who? Her?” Lord Borvall glared down at me jeeringly. “She burns tomorrow at day-break. The new king doesn’t suffer her kind the right to live.”
There it was. I had exactly what I came for. I smiled and clenched my fists, then prepared for my glorious ascension from the pit.
I thumbed through my knotted locks for the one of the only things the guards had missed during their intrusive bodily searches. It was a tiny golden vial nestled at the nape of my neck. The vial contained an amber-hued potion and it was the key to my escape. The other item was the torc around my neck. The vial had been hidden from sight, but the torc they had tried to remove with no success.
Lord Borvall’s dainty footsteps disappeared out of earshot, leaving me and the paunchy guard alone. I held my breath and listened carefully—I wanted to make sure it was only the two of us. If I could slip away undetected, then I’d have time to reach the woods and eventually the Oak tree where I had hidden my pouch. The creak of a wooden stool confirmed my suspicions – he was asleep. The stool was a wagon’s length from the prison bars. Just far enough.
I quietly unscrewed the vial’s ruby cap and dripped the bittersweet liquid into my mouth. It sizzled and popped as it fell on my tongue. It wouldn’t take long for a shapeshifting spell such as this one to take effect. I held my breath as I whispered primordial words, feeling a familiar tingling sensation enveloping my chest. The last step of the spell was to make physical contact with another living creature. The small flies that had been buzzing around my head descended and landed delicately on my fingertips, their tiny wings fluttering against my skin. As one landed on my palm, I gently closed my fingers around it. Then shut my eyes in anticipation.
I grabbed onto the four walls of my prison cell to keep my quivering body from convulsing. The transformation was nearly complete. I glanced up one last time at the glowing moon, spoke the final incantation, and—WHOOSH—I turned into a fly on the wall.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I quickly flew away from the stench-filled abyss that had been my temporary dwelling. My wings beating fiercely against my small body, I bellowed out a deathly call as I soared higher. I had to reach the grove, undetected, before I could safely shift back.
The tree line loomed in the distance beyond the limits of the village. A chorus of croaking tree frogs called out to me, reminding me that freedom lay only a short flight away. I had exhausted my body and was feeling the strain on my wings as I beat them harder and faster than ever before. It was my first time shifting into a fly, but not the first time I bore wings in animalistic form. Still, I knew I needed to transform back soon or risk facing dire consequences.
Enveloped in the velvety darkness of the wild wood, I breathed in the crisp forest air, immediately replenishing my energy. I pushed myself harder and flew faster in the direction of the secret oak grove, passing by gnarled, ancient elms, giant mountain pines, and blackberry brambles as tall as fortress walls. These were the forests I traveled with my father as a little girl. Because of the exhausting Harvest hunting parties my father forced me to attend year after year, I gratefully knew each bend, each path, and each grove intimately. This gave me an advantage over my forest-fearing enemies. Where the enemy would sever a tree from its roots out of fear, I would sleep in its serene shade and bask in its boundless beauty.
An hour later and I had rounded the bend, instinctively drawn to the Mother Oak tree now within sight. Daybreak was coming soon. I had exhausted my energy stores and found myself landing on the bark of the giant tree. The Mother Oak, as we called the origin tree of each primal grove.
The transformation was becoming more difficult each time, and I could feel the pain as my wings slowly retracted into my back. I closed my eyes, trying to savor the sensation of soaring through the air just a little bit longer before I felt the inevitable shake that came with returning to human form. Finnara always spoke of it as being like a mountain spring emerging from its cold winter roots, but for me it was more like peeling an old scab off too quickly. Every muscle ached and my bones creaked as they realigned themselves into their rightful positions.
Despite the pain, I felt a wave of divine energy within me each time I returned to human form. Though a fly’s soul seemed small and inconsequential, it spilled out like a fountain of godly power, briefly bringing me back to life. I brushed the dirt from my body and shivered from the dripping sweat, then knelt at the base of Mother Oak. My pouch was still in its place; I unfastened the leather cord and threw on the dark emerald gown before digging for the rest of my possessions.
Beneath a gnarled root, I located my wand and held it in the moonlight for a quick inspection. It looked exactly the same as I had left it – smooth, with a twisted shaft and runes from my Mother’s people carved over every last inch. Earthworms had made their home in the grooves and ridges of its length. I carefully removed the wriggling creatures and started digging for the falcata buried beneath.
Pulling my sacred weapon from its hiding place, I lifted it into the moonlight and examined it. It too contained rune script over the hilt that was blood-stained by my Father’s hand. An acorn carved out of bloodstone served as the pommel.
The wand connected me with my maternal ancestral magic, whilst the falcata provided me with the protection of my father’s people. I never journeyed without these items. And therefore, I never journeyed without my ancestors. Wrapping the leather cord around my waist and securing it as a belt, I hung the falcata on my right hip and the wand on my left.
The sharp pain in my belly tore at my insides like a fox tearing through its prey. Had it been three days since my last meal? My mouth watered as I squinted in the moonlight and scanned the trees at the Northern edge of the grove. The watering intensified when I saw the blackberry bush loaded with ripe, purple fruit. Immediately I began plucking the berries off their thorny branches and shoving them into my mouth heartily. The flesh of the fruit calmed my gnawing stomach and the juice quenched my thirst just enough. After I had had my fill, I picked another dozen and wrapped them in a small leather pouch that had accompanied my gown and pack. Then I was on my way to the village to deliver the news. I had to make haste.
Plan to Serialize My Epic Fantasy:
Currently, I have almost a quarter of the book already written. I would like to release a new chapter to my readers every week. With the ultimate goal of self-publishing the entire book on Amazon by summer. If you’d like to receive updates on when I release new chapters, I will announce them on my FaceBook page…so be sure you hit that follow button!
