Languished Life Read online

  List of Era Books

  #1 Transient Life

  #2 Apocalyptic Life

  #3 Languished Life

  #4 Cataclysmic Life

  #5 Hallowed Life

  #6 Resonant Life

  List of Sequel Series Books:

  THE FATE SERIES

  #1 The Ninth World

  #2 The Corrupted World

  #3 The Howling World

  #4 The Chaos World

  #5 The End of the World

  Fate Series will become available Later!

  More content available on my

  website (web novels, short stories)

  overpoweredfantasy.com

  LANGUISHED LIFE

  The Fourth Era

  ————————————

  Book Three

  of the

  Era Series

  ————————————

  PATRIK MIELONEN

  COPYRIGHT 2019 © Patrik Mielonen

  This is a work of fiction. Everything is author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual locales, events, or people, either dead or living, is purely coincidental.

  Recap & Prologue

  “I’m Alexiana,” she answers without hesitation.

  “Nice to meet you. And farewell, Alexiana.”

  Alexiana nods with a smile. Despite the blood oozing from her forehead, she looks cheerful for once. Louir mounts Ti, and the Dragoni Priests are moving aside so that they can transform into their Serpentine bodies.

  Thus two Serpents of the Heaven fly to confront the Titan of the final iteration, and the Void attuner rides a Wolf of Poer Haem to join the fray. Lou and the two versions of Ion stay behind. The sleeping Ion aside, they watch the destroyers of the world as they depart to challenge the Titan in the distance.

  Alexiana, on the other hand, gradually becomes transparent, departing from the Third World. She has work to do in the Fourth World where he should be by now. It took Alexiana more than 16,000 years to conclude the campaign in the Third World, and she is glad it’s over finally. During all that time, she studied the world she hadn’t seen before. She even witnessed the creation of the Titan, which means she saw the Supreme God of the Third World before he became the foundation for the Titan’s existence. Just like Dracon, he, too, was a dragonic being. In fact, each and every Supreme God is a dragon.

  Two Seeds have been destroyed. Four more to go. Alexiana’s goal is to destroy them all. Emy saw what might happen if a Seed is ignored for too long. The First World was almost consumed as a result.

  Louir, the Void attuner of the previous timeline of the Third World, is already in the Fourth World, waiting for Alexiana, who sent her there in advance. Alexiana is planning on reuniting with her. The other Louir and Lou stay in the Third World.

  It takes a while to traverse the border between worlds. Dracon calls that space the edge. It’s like a universe with no planets or stars. However, it isn’t dark like space; it’s blueish and filled with mysterious light. Also, white objects, much like threads, are all over the place. They glow faintly in the otherwise empty plane.

  Those are called the Threads of Existence. If Emy had to compare them to something, she’d say genes. It’s very far-fetched, but that’s what they essentially do. They shape the reality, give it a form. By altering them, one could duplicate a person, for instance. However, even Dracon isn’t capable of efficiently manipulating the Threads of Existence. It’d take an eternity and an eon to figure out how.

  As soon as Alexiana’s body materializes in the Fourth World, she hears a heated, verbal battle.

  “If you won’t tell, I’ll make you tell!”

  “I told you, I have nothing to do with your kingdoms and empires!”

  It’s night in that world. Moon is shining brightly, and stars are glimmering. The wind is calm, and the forest is silent.

  “What’s going on here?” Alexiana exclaims.

  Spears are pointed at her before she even knows it. She is surrounded by an army of armored knights. Louir, the one whom Alexiana sent to the Third World in advance, is right beside her.

  “State your names!” A young woman demands, wielding a massive sword that has to weigh over 400 pounds at least. Nay, calling it a sword is belittling it. Neither can it be called a claymore. It’s just that huge. It’s a gargantuan sword.

  “Louir.”

  “Alexiana.”

  “And who do you serve!?”

  Louir answers first, “Her.” She points at Alexiana.

  “No one,” Alexiana answers. “And who might you be?”

  “Silence!” The young woman roars.

  Alexiana sighs. She steps away from Louir, walking towards the woman. The knights point their spears at her so as to force her to stay still. “You know, I’m busy. Can you move on?”

  The response Alexiana gets is rather aggressive. The young woman with the ridiculously massive weapon orders her men to attack. “Kill the girl!”

  Spears are thrust at her, but try as they might, they fail to even touch Alexiana. They all pass through her as if she were a ghost.

  “So, who might you be?” Alexiana repeats the question.

  The baffled leader of the knights answers while gritting her teeth, “Tenil.”

  Arc One

  Tenil, Four Years Ago

  Chapter One

  Conscripted

  The kingdom of Phyr is a mountainous land with beautiful nature. The country is known for its rivers, as there are thousands of them, and every city, town, or village is located beside one. Maple is the most common lumber Phyrians use.

  As nice as the nature sounds, it’s but a veil that hides the evil, that is, the humans. Even now, the sixth war of the century is about to erupt, this time with an empire in the West. A messenger on horseback is riding through the streets of the capital of Phyr.

  The citizen move aside as he hurries through the mass, the animal dying, the rider panicking. The empire of Valoria has already begun their campaign, sieging a fortress in the West. No reinforcements have been sent thus far, hence the messenger’s worry.

  Once in the courtyard of the King’s castle, he dismounts, dashing through the guards. They try to stop him, but he’s running too fast. His message is far too important to be delayed even by a second. He barges through the double door of the throne room, shouting with all his might.

  “An emergency, my King!”

  The present politicians turn their attention on him, questioning his presence at first. The messenger kneels before the King, holding the parchment above his head. An advisor takes it, handing it over to the monarch.

  His head is bald, the crown hiding the bareness. His brown eyes speak of his wisdom, and the wrinkles of his experience. His garments are as fancy as a king’s clothes can be. The throne on which he is seated is made of gold and silver, a red pillow serving as a soft addition to the seat.

  The King reads the parchment. Once he’s read it, he voices his order. “Marshal Ramiel must see this at once! We are at war once again! Tell him to muster his men and to march to Teckton! The empire of Valoria is waging war!”

  The messenger bows, taking the parchment.

  ***

  The capital is known as Ivymn, the safest city on the continent. There are few thieves, and even less murderers. The merchants are reliable and honest for the most part. The food is healthy. And of course, there is no threat of an enemy warband.

  Tenil, a fifteen year old girl, is carrying a bucket of fresh water she’s collected from the local well. Although she is a girl, she is often mistaken as a boy due to her short hair and boyish face. She is taking the bucket home. Her mother needs it. She often helps her with the chores, knowing very well her father can’t do it. He isn’t sick
or dead, but rather, he is an archer, conscripted to defend a fortress in the West. Each and every day is a psychological hell to Tenil, as there’s no telling when he might die out there. The latest war came to an end when she was two years old. Peace has been maintained until today, so there shouldn’t be any reason to worry. Yet she can’t quit because it’s possible someone might attack without warning.

  It’s a busy day in Ivymn, as mobs are blocking the streets. Tenil is hard pressed to keep the water from spilling. One big mistake and she’ll have to fetch a new bucketful. Even the thought of that makes her sweating. As she gets back home, she leaves the bucket outside, opening the door.

  “Huh?” Tenil stops, hearing the alarm bell ring downtown.

  She doesn’t know what it means, but the citizens nearby look grim. Tenil’s hairs stand on the edge. Heart racing, she enters the house. It’s a small building at the edge of the city, made of timber for the most part. Inside, there is a cabinet close to the door, coats stored within. A single oil lamp illuminates the interior that’s otherwise dark due to lack of windows. The only window is in the kitchen, for without one, cooking would be difficult.

  “Mom, why is the bell rung?”

  Her mother looks as grave as the people outside. “War,” she says with a sad tone. She is only thirty-four years old. Her maiden’s charm is still with her. Her hair is chestnut-colored, and her eyes are blue.

  “War? Why!? Is dad gonna be okay?”

  “I don’t know, darling.”

  Tenil was too young back when the previous war was waged. She is oblivious of the horrors of war, save the possibility of her father’s death. She hasn’t been exposed to danger before in her life, some stupid accidents like falling in a river aside.

  She hasn’t traveled far from the capital even once, for there’s nothing out there she wants to see. Ivymn has everything she needs: family, friends, home, and so on. There are even mountains nearby, so why’d she ever leave? The only thing she can think of is the ocean that’s hundreds of leagues away from the capital, past Phyr’s borders.

  As soon as Tenil has aided her mother with the chores, she heads out to play with her friends. Her friends are older than her, except for one boy who’s a year younger than her. She spends the rest of the day with them, inevitably getting tired and hungry. She can’t smile as she goes back home, however. Even her friends are gloomy because of the sudden war. Some of her friends are, in fact, old and healthy enough to be conscripted, so she likely won’t see them ever again.

  Tenil goes to bed as soon as she’s eaten supper, the thought of her father’s death ruining her sleep. Once deep asleep, she starts seeing nightmares. Her father is holding a line all alone, hunted by barbaric men with axes and swords in the nightmare.

  However, her horrible experience in the dream world is interrupted early in the morning. Someone is knocking the door with force, yelling. She can’t make out the words in her drowsiness, but it’s clearly a man, an angry one, she reasons.

  Her mother wakes up sooner, opening the door for the raging man. “What is it?”

  “The king has ordered every capable male to be conscripted for the purpose of defending the country from the empire of Valoria. We have come to check your family just in case you are hiding a boy capable of fighting,” a soldier, armed to the teeth, declares strongly. He has a comrade behind his back.

  “You can come in, but let me tell you this; there are no males in this house, I guarantee,” Tenil’s mother says.

  “We will see about that,” the soldier says that, entering the house, his armor clanking loudly.

  Tenil’s mother moves out of their way, letting both soldiers inside. Her face speaks of her irritation and drowsiness. The Sun hasn’t risen yet, so some of the neighbors have woken up thanks to the soldiers. They have came to check on Tenil’s family because a local old man said he’s seen a young boy come and go into their house, which is Tenil, mistaken for a boy once again.

  “Huh? Soldiers?” Tenil comes out of her room, rubbing her left eye, yawning at the same time.

  Both soldiers turn to look at her, surprised. “My! Raph, we have a liar here.” The noncommissioned officer says.

  “Aye! He looks just the age!”

  “Liar? Who’s liar? She’s my daughter!” Tenil’s mother roars.

  “Doesn’t look girl to me. Raph, take him.”

  “What? No! I am a girl!” Tenil yells.

  “Let go of her!” Tenil’s mother demands.

  “Silence!” The sergeant commands, seizing her by the wrist. “I’m taking you as well. You have lied to a soldier, and that alone is a crime worthy of imprisonment.”

  “No! I’m telling you the truth! She is my daughter!”

  “Shut up!” The sergeant hits her, taking her outside.

  Tenil is too scared to argue any further, fearing she might be hit by a whip or knuckles. They have swords too, so in order to avoid the worst possible outcome, she stays quiet, hoping her mother will find a way to free her from the fate awaiting her.

  Her hopes are in vain, however. They take her mother to jail, and Tenil herself is being taken away on horseback. She is hopelessly scared. The mere thought of military recruitment makes her cry. She’d have to fight, and most likely die on the battlefield. Not just that, she will be living with men.

  They ride out of the city, heading to the brigade of Ivymn, eight miles to South from the capital. Tenil hasn’t ridden a horse before. There’s never been a need to, so why’d she have? Even her grandparents are in Ivymn. Being on horseback is a horrible experience for her, if not even the worst of her life. She’s sitting in front of the soldier, leaning tightly into his embrace, the roughness of the ride making her bottom sore.

  They cross a river that flows beside the city’s Southern wall, riding into the forest nearby. The soldiers are carefully following the road for reasons unknown to Tenil. Maples stand on both sides of the path. Some of them are old, some are young.

  The two soldiers talk as they ride, but Tenil is ignoring them. Heart throbbing, she thinks of what may happen to her. She’ll be holding a sword and a shield; she’ll be killing people; she’ll be facing her own death in no time. Why must she suffer such a fate? She can’t hold back the tears as she cries out for her mother and father in her mind.

  Soon enough, they arrive at a massive fortress on top of a hill, black flags with white rose fluttering everywhere, the flags of the kingdom. A thick wall surrounds the buildings in the courtyard, ballistae and guards on top of it. It isn’t a regular fortress, but a brigade. Three barracks, one armory, one stables, and the main building. According to her father, the brigade of Ivymn has room for two thousand men, of which several hundred are cavalry.

  The small but extremely thick gate opens for them. Tenil is now beyond the help of her mother. No, she’s been so ever since they put her to jail. Her heart stings so badly she needs to press her chest to ease it. She can’t see any women, much less any girls around. Even the thought of being the sole girl in the midst of two thousand men makes her shiver.

  Tenil is taken to a building on their right, a gabled barrack made of stone. Hundreds of recruits are being trained outside, swinging their swords and thrusting their spears. Superiors are constantly yelling at the recruits as if they were all idiots. The Sun is rising in the distance, the walls shadowing the trainees. The ground is dry, the recruits’ movements causing dust to rise.

  Entering the barrack, they take Tenil in front of a lieutenant, and appoint her to a unit. She’s now officially a recruit of the Ivymn footmen regiment, first battalion, second company, fifth platoon. In kingdom, a squad consists of roughly 10 knights, a platoon of 50, a company of 250, a battalion of 1,000, a regiment of 2,000, and so forth. The biggest unit in Phyr’s army is the Royal Army that numbers 100,000 overall, of which only the first division is in the West, a unit of 20,000 knights.

  ***

  Oh Lord of Heaven, help me! Tenil prays as a superior is giving a sword to her. She’s i
n the armory at the moment, gearing up for training. The day is young, and it’s going to be a long one. For all this time, she’s been thinking of stripping her clothes to prove her femininity.

  But it’s not that simple. There are dozens of men all around her, no matter where she goes, not that she’s allowed to move freely. She can’t come to bring herself to stripping, and whatever she says, they won’t believe it. She has heard stories of conscription and what it might be like, and if they’re true, Hell will seem like a paradise.

  Tenil takes the sword, studying it. It’s a generic shortsword, given to recruits and weak knights. She reasons she’ll wield a shortsword until her death on the battlefield. It’s too cruel. She can’t bear it. Even now, a tear streams down her face.

  Once she’s been armored, the superior takes her outside. The leather armor is light in comparison to a real knight’s plate armor, but for a girl like her, even the leather weighs too much. She is already sweating by the time she stands in line with the recruits, practicing.

  “One step forth as you strike!” The trainer yells. He has the plate armor set of a real knight, white roses painted to both shoulder plates, the mark of a lieutenant.

  The trainees are lined up in three rows, three yards between each line, a yard between each recruit. They’re all young for the most part, conscripted either yesterday or today, just like Tenil. I wonder how many of them were taken away like I was. She has to be the first female recruit in the history of Phyr.

  Now that Tenil is in the line with the trainees, she tries to imitate the others, only to fail at the footwork and awkwardly swing the sword. After a few tries, she is already wet because of sweat. The superior teaching the recruits yells at her specifically.

  “Put your soul into it lad!”

  Tenil can’t utter a word. She is scared to the core. They train there until the Sun’s light makes the shadow of the wall disappear, and even then, they stop only for a moment to rest. The war is already raging at the border, and they need all the reinforcements they can get. Their enemy is the empire this time. Therefore, they can’t afford not conscripting every capable male.