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The Sword of Light: Book One of the Veredor Chronicles

of the entire village. The people of Clemensdale were scurrying about and making
preparations for the approaching storm. Dark clouds were rolling across the hills
to the east. Thunder rumbled from above and echoed throughout the valley. He
reached out and fastened the shutters as lightning lit up the sky above.
The hut was made up of a single room with a central wooden table and two
single beds against each wall. An oil lantern filled the little hut with warm light.
On top of the table was a small metal box. The young man sat down and gently
lifted the lid off the box. Inside was a piece of folded parchment paper. He took it
out and unfolded the letter. He then began to read.
Brother Erako,
I send to you this child. His name is Eben. Lady Kaloren has requested that he
be hidden from our enemies. She has assigned me the task to protect the child. I
must ensure he is placed somewhere where he will not be found. She has also
requested for the Ecorian Sword to remain with Eben. I know I can trust you to
take care of him. It is truly important that you accept. We are living in a
dangerous time. Our numbers are few in these lands. The rumours are true; the
hand of evil reaches south. I will only say a few words in this letter of our
troubles. We have encountered our old enemies in Ortaria. There is word they have
entered Vastoria. We can only hope the Cosmic Gate holds true. We fear the time
grows near. One of us will come to take Eben from you soon.
Eben had read the letter at least a dozen times, and with each reading more
questions entered his mind. The metal box had been hidden beneath Erako‟s bed.
The contents of the letter had shocked him deeply.
For most of his life Eben had lived in the southern hills of Ortaria. He had been
taught the craft of surviving in the wild rocky land by Erako, the Huntsman of
Clemensdale. Erako was already an old man when Eben was entrusted to his care,
and he singlehandedly raised Eben from when he was only two years old. Few
memories remained of the time before his arrival, only vague recollections and
faces of people who he could not clearly remember. Eben had always been told that
a stranger left him and had promised to return one day to take him away, but the
stranger never returned. The months turned into years without a word or message.
Over sixteen years had passed since he arrived at the small remote village. In
the depths of winter a fever had overcome Erako. The old huntsman passed away
peacefully in his sleep. Life in the village had not been the same since Erako‟s
Erako always said someone would eventually come to Clemensdale to explain
Eben‟s origins, but after reading the letter he felt a deep desire to search for the
answers himself. There was so much he wanted to know: who Carlin and Lady
Kaloren were, and where had he come from, but mostly he hoped to find his
After several hours the storm had passed. Questions continued to circle around
in Eben‟s mind. He knew that he would have to leave his home and begin a