Mist wardens, p.1
Mist Wardens, page 1
part #3 of Beastborne Series
Beastborne: Mist Wardens
Beastborne Chronicles, Book 3
James T. Callum
Also by James T. Callum
Pyresouls Apocalypse Series
Pyresouls Apocalypse: Rewind
Beastborne Chronicles Series
Beastborne: Mark of the Founder (Book 1)
Beastborne: Exiled Lands (Book 2)
Newsletter
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This book is dedicated to two people. One real, and one that I wish with all of my heart to be real in some other Worldshard out there far from our own.
Firstly, to my eternally patient and loving wife. I could never do this without you.
And secondly, to Komachi, that most eternal and capricious pobul prankster. Please give me back my shoe.
Foreword
Beastborne was originally written as a web serial. For those uninitiated into the wonderful world of web serials, they are often written long-form but with numerous chapters. It is not uncommon to see many serials reach hundreds of chapters per volume.
As a result, you may find some of the chapters are a bit different from what you might be used to.
Additionally, if you find any typos or errors feel free to drop me an email citing what chapter they’re in at: typos@jamestcallum.com.
I update the manuscript whenever an error is found, so make sure you allow your reading device to update your ebooks! That way you will always have the best version.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Early Access Chapters
Also by James T. Callum
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Newsletter
Hal’s Final Stats
Pyresouls Preview Chapters
Pyresouls Chapter 01
Pyresouls Chapter 02
Pyresouls Chapter 03
Pyresouls Chapter 04
Prologue
Winter was fast approaching Sanctum-Fallwreath. Out on the western balcony, Rinbast could smell its arrival on the crisp morning air. The clouds in the distance were heavy with their snowy payload.
There were precious few days left of the golden, autumnal landscape that Rinbast so loved about his home. Soon everything would be dusted in powdery white, muffling the world like a woolen blanket. Peaceful.
Like clockwork, those few dissenting groups that comically called themselves “rebels” would be forced to turn back to their families and friends for warmth and safety in the harsh winter months.
And for once, Rinbast could fully turn his attention to the task of saving the miserable world he now called home.
Rinbast gave a world-weary sigh, his breath came out in a puff of white mist. He never asked for this.
A slight hooded figure stood nearby, careful to keep her hood up and face shadowed. It wasn’t for his sake, but for those that might be watching.
That had been one of his first painful lessons as a Founder. As a leader.
Somebody was always watching.
The woman’s melodic voice had been recounting her experiences while Rinbast lost himself in memories of better times when he had been hailed as a hero by one and all. A savior.
Before the plotting, backstabbing, and jockeying for power.
Wearing his typical [Founder’s Plate], Rinbast turned and leaned one armored elbow on the stone balustrade. As his brown gaze settled on the woman, she stammered for the first time and nearly stopped giving her report altogether.
Of course, he already knew everything she was telling him.
Ralst had returned not three hours ago and recounted her experiences, much of which this slight girl in front of him was repeating.
“And these people… they simply disappeared?” Rinbast asked softly.
As soon as he spoke, the girl clammed up. Her hood bobbed twice. “Yes,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Nobody knows where they went. They were badly hurt, it is unlikely they will survi-”
Rinbast raised a gauntleted hand to halt her. The barest hint of a grimace. He would not accept her answer. Clamping down the roiling mix of fear and frustration, he mastered himself and gave her a soothing smile. “I wish to be the first to know when they return, and who among them returns. You may go.”
Another wave of his hand and the golden light from his Founder’s Mark shone through the ice-steel plating of his gauntlet as he conjured a gateway back to where the woman - the traitor - belonged. Back to the Shiverglades. Back to Hal.
That man was becoming troublesome. Things were changing, unraveling. The proper course of events had been skewed ever since Midarian’s Apprentice arrived.
No. Before that, even. Hal had reached his inner sanctum within Murkmire. That should have been impossible.
It was a diver
Everything depended upon it.
The air split with a crackle and fizzle of energy. Like a zipper opening up a pocket of reality, the line of black energy drew itself from a point seven feet above the balcony all the way down until it touched the stone.
As the magic completed, Rinbast turned his attention away from the girl and to the gateway. The line widened, seeming to rotate in space until it was large enough for an adult to step through. It didn’t show her destination. Too many eyes. A dark fog filled the gateway, roiling, and rushing about as if it was a living thing yearning to be free.
The girl curtsied once then turned and stalked calmly through the gateway. He could have sent her anywhere. He’d done it enough before. But she was too useful to be rid of. And she still served faithfully.
Rinbast caught a hint of the frigid, icy wind at home to the Shiverglades, and immediately shut the gateway behind her. It brought bitter borrowed memories. Loss beyond reason. As badly as he wanted to step through after her and set everything aright, he could not.
It wasn’t time.
“You’ll have to trust that she’ll be okay,” Ralst said, stepping out of a fold in the stonework where the shadow gathered dark and thick. “You would jeopardize everything by going there. I will keep watch for you.”
For once, Ralst had no hint of a smile or playfulness in her tone. Tall and statuesque, the drow was beautiful and deadly all at once. Unlike her brother - perhaps because of him - she was prone to boredom. Her usual impatient and snarky demeanor was missing for once.
Rinbast gave her a curt nod of appreciation.
“She’ll understand,” she said, coming forward a step and resting a coal-black hand on his shoulder. Her eyes shone with sympathy. “Once this is all over, she will forgive you.”
A bright memory of a smiling child’s face looking up at him like he was the sun forged a lump of emotion that lodged itself in Rinbast’s throat. He had to blink several times and swallow past the lump before he could trust himself to speak. “I do this for her, whether or not she knows or thanks me.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” she said softly, letting her hand drop.
They stood there for several long moments, the silence stretching between them. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Their relationship, their friendship stretched back through the years. And as the years bent back on themselves and folded over and over again, their bond only strengthened.
There was nobody Rinbast trusted more than Ralst, unless it was her twin Alnafein.
He was surely hanging around somewhere, just within reach. As his Shadow, Alnafein took the role of a bodyguard with the utmost seriousness.
“She was telling the truth though,” Ralst said. “All of it. From Midarian’s Apprentice bonding to Elora, surviving a florking Manastorm, the Manaseed Hal found within the ruins of Mornheim, creating a Guild, and the founding of their Settlement in the Shiverglades. I saw it all. You know, I could have nipped this-”
Rinbast was already shaking his head. “You know that is not what I want,” he said gravely. “We cannot risk intervention of that scale. There is still time.”
With a carefree shrug, becoming a bit more like herself with the subtle chiding, Ralst grinned and strode over to lean out over the balcony. Her gaze flitted across the many boroughs and streets of Sanctum-Fallwreath. Countless people lived their lives, unconcerned or unknowing of all that went on around them.
They had families, children, love, and security. They were content to live their lives day by day, worried about the small petty problems that have plagued sentient races since time immemorial.
“This one is really quite impressive,” Ralst said, and they both understood she was talking about Hal.
Her eyes settled on Bliden Street and the Fallwreath parade currently going on to celebrate the end of autumn. Even from the castle, they could hear the music, and every so often a strong wind brought with it the scents of pumpkin pie and apple cider.
“I would hope so,” Rinbast said, unable to help the grimace that formed on his handsome features. “Or else Hirash would have a great deal more to answer for.”
The dark elf shrugged, hardly caring for what the Archmage had to or didn’t have to answer for. They had never really seen eye-to-eye. “Hal’s getting stronger,” she continued. “Rallying people to his cause. But it’s more than that. Every challenge he seems wholly unprepared for, he rises to it and comes out stronger for it.
“And that’s not even talking about the entirety of the Shiverglades rising up to fight the boy! You should have seen the carnage.” Ralst fanned herself a little. “He would even give Levinworth a run for his money. It’s more than just him, the people he surrounds himself with are more skilled than you give them credit for.
“He bested Thirty-six, Rinbast. Thirty-six! You know as well as me that he was always a bit unhinged. Give him a target and he’s like to destroy the whole town in the process. I nearly stepped in at first, thought the kid was a goner.”
“You would do well to remember your place. You are an observer, nothing more,” Rinbast reminded her sharply. “If he cannot stand on his own… all of this is for naught. Even against a rabid Kinslayer. While I will admit I did not expect Thirty-six to disobey a direct order… perhaps it is for the best. We are rid of his instability.”
Ralst turned about, leaning her back against the balustrade and propping her elbows atop it. Her dark leather armor and its many blackened buckles and straps didn’t make the slightest sound as she shifted about.
Her eyes found Rinbast’s. “I really don’t get you sometimes, y’know?”
Rinbast couldn’t help the slight quirk that formed on his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Ralst slid her gaze back to the stained glass door that led into his study. “Scrying pool still not working?”
