A Slice of Land of Ene: Birth of A King

This is a little something from the beginning of the book to let all know what kind of story the third chapter of the True Volition Hexalogy will be. I hope you enjoy!


Light from the night sky shown on an abandoned shack that sat by itself in a flat grassy plain just south of tree lands. Two men and one megatherium rested outside while one kept watch in wait for a carriage. Two men wrapped in fur walked back and forth across a little hallway underground. They were guards. To the east of the underground dungeon were holding cells for fauns, skins, scrufs, and all other variants of hoofakin. The poor deer-like humanoids were all shaven, and their antlers were clipped. They lay in a naked huddle together in fear for their lives, having no idea what their fates were going to be.

“Pity it be the undeniable nature of man,” whispered a woman too far away for anyone to hear.

“Shh!” hissed the lead of a six-man knight squad, and everyone stopped. The party was crouched low in the tall grass as the lead looked on in the distance to a structure. It was an old shack. The dimmest bit of firelight came through the bottom boards of the door, and just as the knight noticed it, he caught movement around the far side; a scout undoubtedly. He looked back to his men, then unsheathed his sword. The others followed suit as quietly as they could, and the lead continued forward.

Up above the sound of shouting followed by swooping clashing swords alerted everyone down below that a battle just broke out. The two men in the dungeon drew their swords and raced up the stairs to aid their comrades. Sounds of clinging and grunting, yelling and slashing broke out above until the air went silent. Then scattering feet were followed by knights in a line, rushing down the steps to find the hoofakin. Torchlight emanated the scene. The youngest knight, a sixteen-year-old boy named Finn, came up the rear of the line to find them all in shock. It was a grotesque scene if ever he saw one.

“What is this?” one of Finn’s peers, a young brawler named Callan asked.

“I have no idea,” another knight responded.

The leader, an aged man took his helmet off, revealing three horizontal scars across his forehead as he replied to his man. “Human-like hoofakin. This must be the work of Mortaldat.”

“But what was he planning on doing with them?” Callan asked.

“Not even Enos knows.”

Finn looked on at the quivering creatures and felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy whoosh through his body. It was a sight he wished he never had to see again.


The dim blue nighttime hue was beginning to change. Finn could see more of the land in front of him as he walked on alone to his family home. A flattened path in the grass gave him direction until he finally saw his frava’s house in the distance. It sat on a fairly steep slope a little way up the northern highlands of his farming village, Voctebac. As his approach neared he saw his little sister Faye giving a lay down outside the home, looking up at the stars.

Her head popped up at the sound of Finn’s footsteps, and her face gleamed with excitement. She squealed and kicked the ground with her hands to her chest.

“Finny!” she cried in her quiet voice.


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