The Jealousy of Jalice by Jesse Nolan Bailey
Series: A Disaster of Dokojin #1
Publication date: May 19th, 2020
Synopsis:
The Realms have split apart, the Stones of Elation have been hidden, and warnings of dokojin drift among the tribes.
The land and its people are corrupted. The Sachem, chief of the Unified Tribes, is to blame.
It is this conviction that drives Annilasia and Delilee to risk their lives. Afraid of the aether magic he wields, they enact a subtler scheme: kidnap his wife. In her place, Delilee will pretend to be the chieftess and spy on the Sachem.
Unaware of this plot against her husband, Jalice is whisked away by Annilasia. Pleading with her captor proves futile, and she rejects Annilasia's delusional accusations against the chief. After all, the Sachem has brought peace to the land.
Yet a dangerous truth hides in Jalice's past. As she and Annilasia flee through a forest of insidious threats, they must confront the evil plaguing the tribes and the events that unleashed it.
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Excerpt - Chapter 1
Darkness covered the forest like a spider's web--insignificant at a casual glance, but fatal to anything trapped within. Though the night already warped the mind into an uneasy disposition, a sinister presence permeated the air, invisible to the human eye. Like a hungry beast, the darkness skulked through the trees, as if waiting to devour its next prey.
Not many traversed the night, but one soul dashed alongside the gravel paths, sticking to the shadows outside the torchlight. Annilasia moved through the darkness with ease. A recent rain had dampened the dirt, creating an alternative noise much quieter than the loud crunch of gravel. Her boots padded on the soft ground, maintaining the eerie silence that deterred curious minds.
Few noises pierced the darkness. A cool breeze whispered into the trees, scratching the leaves together. All else remained still and silent. Weaving through the tents and huts, the gravel pathways appeared empty as they led to the Fortress. Wither Season had ushered in cool weather, but that was hardly the reason for the lack of souls. The citizens of the Ikaul Tribe had learned long ago not to linger past sunset. A thick heaviness hung in the air, like tar dripping over the forest. Ever present, it seeped into the skin and mind alike, conjuring a sense of danger and dread.
Annilasia slowed her pace before halting at the last line of tents. She studied the length of the wall that loomed before her. The fortified timber rose just above the treetops, built in a circular formation to protect the precious dwellings within from outsiders. Numerous scouts trailed the allure, with their thin silhouettes stark against the night sky of twinkling lights.
Beyond the barrier existed the Sachem's Temple and the towers--Annilasia's destination.
She settled into a purposeful walk down the gravel path. No doubt the scouts had already seen her, and she'd be met with a small troop of warriors at the gate. Although stealth had been necessary thus far, it wouldn't get her past the wall undetected. There were too many eyes. Routine and custom would now dictate her passage past the wall, and she hoped her presence didn't arouse suspicion.
Annilasia emerged from the shadows as the trees gave way to an open area leading to the gate. As she had presumed, four men stood at the post. Two held torches on either side of the troop, placed farther back along the wall. Standing farther upfront, another warrior handled an unsheathed sword that glinted in the torchlight. Each wore a linen or mesh suit, overlaid by thick animal hides and fur pelts to banish the chill. Tattoos displayed in sporadic patches of exposed skin, distinctly sweeping across their faces.
Annilasia noted their passive stances. They didn't yet see her as a threat. She glanced at the fourth member that headed the group, whose garb drastically differed from the others. Her heartbeat quickened, but she refused to let her face show emotion.
The hirishu warrior appeared twice the size of his comrades, yet Annilasia knew his uniform attributed to the illusion of his grand stature. Snowy grey pelts flanked the hirishu's shoulders, with the tips matted in a crimson crust. Fitted obsidian leather formed bracers on the arms and legs, as well as a breastplate concealed beneath an overlaid tabard. Frayed at the edges, the knee-length linen gripped any onlooker with dread by means of a deformed, skeletal face smeared across it. Lesser themes of mutated beasts locked in battle circled this inimical motif, tainting the otherwise pale cloth.
Annilasia made quick note of the oval shield hiding a large portion of the hirishu. Doused in white paint and enforced by a dark metal rim, it too battered the gaze with crude depictions of howling skulls in bright, red paint.
Yet Annilasia fixated on the thick blade of moon-white metal that tipped skyward, held in the opposite, visible hand. Annilasia knew from daylight glimpses that a defying, atramentous halo shimmered around the sword's blade, now lost in the night's darkness.
An aether weapon.
Annilasia's gaze trailed past the sword to the hirishu's arm. Skin ink traveled in brash edges and squared lines across the exposed skin. Forming an intricate maze-like design in the shape of a soaring eagle, the tattoo served as a telling sign for Annilasia. She now knew the identity of the man before her.
Terrizo.
Dying stars, I would come across this dirt eater tonight, she thought.
Not many traversed the night, but one soul dashed alongside the gravel paths, sticking to the shadows outside the torchlight. Annilasia moved through the darkness with ease. A recent rain had dampened the dirt, creating an alternative noise much quieter than the loud crunch of gravel. Her boots padded on the soft ground, maintaining the eerie silence that deterred curious minds.
Few noises pierced the darkness. A cool breeze whispered into the trees, scratching the leaves together. All else remained still and silent. Weaving through the tents and huts, the gravel pathways appeared empty as they led to the Fortress. Wither Season had ushered in cool weather, but that was hardly the reason for the lack of souls. The citizens of the Ikaul Tribe had learned long ago not to linger past sunset. A thick heaviness hung in the air, like tar dripping over the forest. Ever present, it seeped into the skin and mind alike, conjuring a sense of danger and dread.
Annilasia slowed her pace before halting at the last line of tents. She studied the length of the wall that loomed before her. The fortified timber rose just above the treetops, built in a circular formation to protect the precious dwellings within from outsiders. Numerous scouts trailed the allure, with their thin silhouettes stark against the night sky of twinkling lights.
Beyond the barrier existed the Sachem's Temple and the towers--Annilasia's destination.
She settled into a purposeful walk down the gravel path. No doubt the scouts had already seen her, and she'd be met with a small troop of warriors at the gate. Although stealth had been necessary thus far, it wouldn't get her past the wall undetected. There were too many eyes. Routine and custom would now dictate her passage past the wall, and she hoped her presence didn't arouse suspicion.
Annilasia emerged from the shadows as the trees gave way to an open area leading to the gate. As she had presumed, four men stood at the post. Two held torches on either side of the troop, placed farther back along the wall. Standing farther upfront, another warrior handled an unsheathed sword that glinted in the torchlight. Each wore a linen or mesh suit, overlaid by thick animal hides and fur pelts to banish the chill. Tattoos displayed in sporadic patches of exposed skin, distinctly sweeping across their faces.
Annilasia noted their passive stances. They didn't yet see her as a threat. She glanced at the fourth member that headed the group, whose garb drastically differed from the others. Her heartbeat quickened, but she refused to let her face show emotion.
The hirishu warrior appeared twice the size of his comrades, yet Annilasia knew his uniform attributed to the illusion of his grand stature. Snowy grey pelts flanked the hirishu's shoulders, with the tips matted in a crimson crust. Fitted obsidian leather formed bracers on the arms and legs, as well as a breastplate concealed beneath an overlaid tabard. Frayed at the edges, the knee-length linen gripped any onlooker with dread by means of a deformed, skeletal face smeared across it. Lesser themes of mutated beasts locked in battle circled this inimical motif, tainting the otherwise pale cloth.
Annilasia made quick note of the oval shield hiding a large portion of the hirishu. Doused in white paint and enforced by a dark metal rim, it too battered the gaze with crude depictions of howling skulls in bright, red paint.
Yet Annilasia fixated on the thick blade of moon-white metal that tipped skyward, held in the opposite, visible hand. Annilasia knew from daylight glimpses that a defying, atramentous halo shimmered around the sword's blade, now lost in the night's darkness.
An aether weapon.
Annilasia's gaze trailed past the sword to the hirishu's arm. Skin ink traveled in brash edges and squared lines across the exposed skin. Forming an intricate maze-like design in the shape of a soaring eagle, the tattoo served as a telling sign for Annilasia. She now knew the identity of the man before her.
Terrizo.
Dying stars, I would come across this dirt eater tonight, she thought.
About the Author:
Enthralled by the magic that written stories contain, Jesse Nolan Bailey has always wanted to be an author. With his debut novel finally released to the masses, he can now claim such title with relief. He lives in Durham, North Carolina, where he has embraced the equally-gratifying lifework of hosting a trio of spoiled cats.
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