Foundation (Undying Empire Book 1), page 1
Undying Empire: Foundation
Copyright © 2022 by Scott M. Edwards
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2022
Edwards.Scott801@gmail.com
https://twitter.com/AuthorSME
Contents
Prelude: Humanitarian Aid Sucks!
Chapter One: Dying, Now With Butter!
Chapter Two: An Empress Rises
Chapter Three: The End of the World
Chapter Four: Chilling Tactics
Chapter Five: Butterfly Effect?
Chapter Six: Slow, Steady Progress
Chapter Seven: Seed Devourer
Chapter Eight: Retired Terrorist
Chapter Nine: War Preparations
Chapter Ten: A Scarlet Hand
Chapter Eleven: A Plan Set
Chapter Twelve: Setting The Stage
Chapter Thirteen: Success
Chapter Fourteen: Crystal Shattering
Chapter Fifteen: Power Play
Chapter Sixteen: Court Of Public Opinion
Chapter Seventeen: A Nasty Surprise
Chapter Eighteen: The Whispering Shade
Chapter Nineteen: The Queen of Witchery
Chapter Twenty: A Family Bound By Death
Chapter Twenty-One: A Battle Won; A War to Come
Chapter Twenty-Two: Only The Beginning
End of Volume Status Sheet
About the Author
Special Thanks
Prelude: Humanitarian Aid Sucks!
Elinor leaned back in her seat, wiping away the sweat that dripped down her brow. Her dark makeup had long since been rubbed away, adding fuel to her already irritated mind. An itch inside her ear made her growl, and she pulled out her left earbud to scratch it.
This is just great, she internally grumbled. What a perfect vacation… No air conditioning for two days in this hellhole. We couldn’t wait one flippin’ week to get a closer flight, and they still won’t give me back my SIM card!
She turned away from the window to her right to glare at her parents sitting next to her; both of their light-hazel eyes were centered on their phones with disinterest, taunting her as they swiped through some news channels.
She knew her mom was beautiful, which was where she’d gotten much of her looks, and currently, she had her thick black hair tied back into a ponytail and pulled over her shoulder.
She wore a blue spaghetti-strap shirt, one of her black bra straps poking out from under the right side, and her dark-brown shorts and sandals went well with her tan. Driving out in the middle of a random dirt road in Colombia didn’t fit her soft complexion, however.
On the other hand, she could see her father fitting into the wilderness quite well. His thick, well-maintained hair was swept back to expose his forehead; the cream button-up shirt with flowers on it was a disguise because he was anything but chill, and his brown shorts that fell just past his knees was his staple comfort wear.
Elinor could see why her mother had fallen for him. He was handsome in a rough sort of way with his toned muscles, but he was the most aggravating man in her entire life.
Huffing out a drawn-out sigh, she glanced out of the bus window, looking at the small town they were coming up on; it seemed to just appear out of nowhere, an entire community in the jungle, and her frustration hit its peak.
This is so dumb… Do any buses in South America have air conditioning?
The long vehicle was alight with several conversations, almost all of them boring. The majority of the passengers were on the bus to travel to Cúcuta for the humanitarian aid efforts at the border of Colombia and Venezuela; they’d had to take a detour because of backed-up traffic.
They were pulling a small trailer full of goods that were supposed to go to the humanitarian gathering on some bridge her father had shown her; the downside being they had to move really slow with it on the dirt roads.
She looked down at her phone, scowling at the thirty percent battery icon. Taking out her other wireless headphone, she stuffed both into her tight, black latex trousers and listened to the chatter for a minute.
Running a hand through her raven locks, she directed a pointed groan in her parents’ direction. “It’s so hot… My mascara literally melted off! How long do we have to be here?”
Tiffany shifted a little to smile at her, her mother’s arm reaching around her shoulders to lean into a half-hug. “I told you applying that much makeup in this heat was a bad idea, and bringing an entire wardrobe of goth clothes was basically suicide.”
She looked down at her black tank top that revealed her stomach. It had a spine pattern cut down the back and a skeletal unicorn with flowers, vines, skulls, and candles in front of a full moon. Her boots had made her feet too hot, so she’d kicked them off long ago.
“It’s my look, though…”
Edmon frowned as he leaned forward, her dad scrutinizing her appearance with the disapproving eye she hated. “Right, like getting your friend to give you five black butterfly tattoos on your shoulder and a raven feather on your collarbone… without our permission. You know that’s illegal.”
Elinor huffed, leaning back with a pout as she glared at the shops they passed. “It’s not just a raven feather… Shows how much you know. It’s a raven feather transforming into an unkindness! It’s symbolic, something you wouldn’t understand, and T thought it was cool. Mom promised you wouldn’t press charges, too. It’s my choice!”
“Tanner…” her dad snarled, nose twisting.
Her mother put a hand on her dad’s lap. “C’mon, Edmon, we both had our fair share of rebellious behavior. Remember our punk-rock phase?”
“We didn’t get any damn tattoos,” he growled.
“It’s not the end of the world, Dear,” her mom sighed, turning back to her. “Elinor, honey, I understand why you thought you couldn’t come to us about this, but you should before making these kinds of body-altering decisions.”
“Yeah,” her dad grunted, glaring down at his phone.
“Why?” she huffed, pulling away a little from her mom. “It’s my body.”
Her mother’s lips pursed as she squeezed her father’s leg. “Yes, but you’re still only sixteen—you’re a minor, under our care—and you go through phases during these years; you know we’ve talked about this. You may be into gothic stuff now, but that doesn’t mean you’ll like gothic stuff in ten years. I used to like dinosaurs and wanted to be an archeologist because of Jurassic Park, but I grew out of that. If I had a dinosaur tattoo, then I’d die now.”
“You don’t even know…” Elinor muttered.
“You know what… you’re right,” her mother hummed, scratching the side of her scalp. “We haven’t asked you what they mean to you, but you can’t blame us… you’ve been hiding them for weeks. Why did you get them; it wasn’t just for that boy, right?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her pants, pressing her phone into her thighs. “No! It’s not like that!” She fumed. “T’s just cool, okay? Geez.”
“Just cool, then; got it,” her mother smirked in an annoyingly knowing way. “So… what do they mean?” she asked, pulling back her hair to look at the raven feather on her left collarbone.
Brushing her hand away, Elinor covered it protectively as she looked at one of her boots. “It… Ugh. A flock of ravens is called ‘unkindness,’ but they’re actually really kind toward each other—like a team… friends. In mythology, they’re protectors, even omens… you know, don’t make me mad because that’s a bad omen.”
“Of course,” her mother smiled, and her dad rolled his eyes.
“What?” she defensively challenged.
“No, I like it! Continue,” her mother insisted.
“Humph. Yeah, whatever, Dad… I wasn’t talking to you anyway.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he returned, mirroring her tone.
“Uh-huh… Ugh,” she relented as her mother’s hopeful smile blocked her view of him. “Well, T told me that in Norse mythology, ravens were like divine messengers, and even some believe they’re exorcised spirits and evil—that’s pretty cool, too. The bible even has a raven that went and found land for Noah—I don’t think it found it, but whatever… so, yeah, not all bad. In Buddhism, they’re like… holy birds.”
“Are you a Buddhist or Catholic goth now?” her dad groaned.
“No… it’s just cool,” she grunted, pursing her lips into a pout.
“Edmon, let her explain,” her mother pleaded.
“Tiffany, I just—fine,” he breathed out heavily, throwing up his arms. “Tell us all about your tattoos.”
Elinor sniffed. “Whatever…”
“No,” Tiffany moaned. “Honey, please, I want to understand. Tell me about it,” she reached back around, pulling her into a hug.
She closed her eyes, breathing in the lavender fragrance of her mother’s hair, and her anger started to dissipate as she hugged her mother back with a groan. “Fine.”
“Victory,” her mother cheered, making her chuckle as she pulled back and waited patiently for her to continue.
“So,” Elinor paused, collecting her thoughts. “I mean, T told me all these amazing stories; he showed me all these awesome sketches of the tattoos he’d been working on
“Ahh, okay. Did he also get you those black stone earrings I’ve seen you wear the past couple of weeks?”
Elinor swallowed, feet twisting nervously as she rubbed her phone. “You, umm, you noticed?”
“Wait—what earrings?” Edmon whispered, leaning forward to look at her ears and hands. “I haven’t seen any new earrings. Tanner gave you jewelry?”
“Of course I noticed; I’m your mother. I haven’t been able to get a good look at them, though; you’ve been avoiding me recently… probably because of the tattoos.”
“They were a gift for my first tat,” she muttered.
Tiffany rubbed her leg comfortingly. “I bet they were; can I see them?”
“I—they’re in my bag,” she stammered. “I didn’t want to lose them on the ride… No, Dad…” she groaned as he pocketed his phone and got up to take her bag out of the overhead compartment.
Her mother chuckled. “Honey, it’s fine. I think it’s sweet that he gave you a gift.”
“Unless you know what goes on in a boy’s mind,” her dad muttered.
Elinor rolled her eyes. “Video games and food? Terrifying, Dad.”
Sitting back down with her black leather shoulder bag, he examined it with a frown; it had the appearance of a grimoire with a pentagram on the front and ‘Book of Spirits’ written across the cover. “Which pocket is it in?”
Her mother reached over and took the bag from him, making Elinor breathe out a sigh of relief. “Let her show us, dear; this is important to her.”
Edmon rubbed his eyes with a low moan. “I know… I know I’m like… the super overprotective dad right now, but you have no idea what goes through guys’ minds at that age, and it’s a lot more than video games and food. Now he’s giving her jewelry? He’s eighteen, and she’s still a minor.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Elinor whispered, hugging her bag protectively while trying to ignore her dad’s unreasonable attitude and archaic position. Taking a deep breath, she undid the latches and opened the flap before unbuttoning one of the small inner pockets and taking out the velvet bag carrying her earrings.
Tiffany’s breath seemed to lock in her chest, and a lump fell down her throat as Elinor opened it and dropped the jewelry into her palm; her dad leaned closer to get a better look.
“Honey… can I see those for a moment?” her mother whispered.
Feeling a little unsure about their reactions, Elinor reluctantly gave one up.
Her mother lifted the earring up to inspect it with her father. “This is… beautiful,” her mother muttered.
“I knew it…”
“It’s really pretty,” Elinor agreed, “but it’s not real or anything. It’s just a fake; T said he found a box with them inside when he was taking diving lessons with his family in Hawaii.”
Tiffany twisted it around, carefully studying the piece. “Basket-stud earrings—a four-prong setting—and look at the way it catches the light… It’s probably five to six carats each... round black diamonds—they don’t look or feel fake. If they are black diamonds, then the metal is probably black gold and something this size… 14k, no doubt. If these are real… they’d be, like… fifteen to twenty thousand dollars, potentially more.”
Elinor mouthed her mother’s estimate in bewilderment. “Wait? No! No way! T works at a tattoo shop… they’re just fake earrings he found in the ocean.”
Her father shook his head with a serious expression. “No, if his story is true, and it wasn’t a lie, then those earrings were probably accidentally dropped by a couple on a trip or honeymoon.”
Her skin bristled. “No! T’s not a liar!” she shouted, drawing other passengers’ attention. “He found them in the ocean and gave them to me as a gift for my first tat!”
“Shh—settle down,” her mother said, forcing a chuckle and pursing her lips as she looked back down at the earring, clearly not wanting to make a scene. “I guess we’ll have to get them appraised to be sure, but… I’m pretty sure this is the real thing, Honey. If that’s true, we might have to see if there’s any way to track down the owner and return it.”
“They’re mine, though,” Elinor huffed, snatching it out of her mother’s hand. “T gave them to me!” She pressed up against the window, clutching the earrings against her chest protectively.
Tiffany held up her hand as her father’s face darkened. “Honey, think about the woman who owned those before Tanner found it; the memories they hold for her. Think about how happy she’d be if they were returned to her. How would you feel if something extremely important to you was lost?”
Elinor’s lips fell into a deep frown. “I—I know, but… they’re T’s first gift to me…”
Her mother breathed a deep sigh, and after a moment, she smiled. “Okay, let’s discuss this then. If we can find the owner, then it would be the right thing to do to return them; just like how that nice boy returned your shoulder bag to you when you lost it on our European trip last year. Am I right?”
She looked down at her hand, fingers rubbing against the cool metal pieces. “I guess… it would be the right thing to do.”
“If Tanner did find them, then the owners would probably want to thank him themselves. As I said, if those are the real things, then returning them would hold real value to the couple that lost them; I know I’d be beside myself if I lost my engagement ring or something important your father gave me.”
“So,” Elinor hummed. “If they are real—a big if… then we’ll try and find the real owners, and if we can’t… then I get to keep them?”
“Of course, Honey,” her mother soothed, speaking before her father could interject. “I know it’s important to you, but, umm, this doesn’t mean anything more than a friendly gift, right?” she asked, her eyebrow lifted as she studied her reaction.
“What? No—not at all,” Elinor blustered. “I’m too young to get married or anything like that…” she muttered, but her heart fluttered at the prospect.
Could this be a subtle hint by T? No… he’s too cool. If he wanted to date me, then he’d say it, no problem. It’s not like he’s into younger girls anyways. He did break up with Tonya last year, though… he didn’t date all of senior year, either, and since graduating, he hasn’t been seeing anyone…
“What’s with that look on your face?” her mom hummed.
Her eyes shot open. “What look? I’m just—I’m happy I get to keep them because… Because there’s no way they’re real!”
“Mmhm,” her mother said with a small smirk.
Her dad grunted as he sat back in his chair, closing his eyes and folding his arms. “You’re sixteen… you have to get through high school and college before thinking about marriage.”
“Oh,” her mother shoved him mischievously. “You were working two jobs and living out of your mother’s basement when you proposed to me. If I remember correctly, you were twenty, and I was nineteen, right?”
He coughed, clearing his throat. “Yeah, well… it’s a different age.”
Her mother giggled, turning back to her. “Hey, as long as you wait until you’re at least eighteen—preferably twenty—then you have my full support… as long as he’s a decent guy.
“Yeah, okay…” Elinor smiled, looking down at her earrings with her ears still burning.
There’s no way they’re real… but what if they are?
“Wait,” Tiffany smirked. “You haven’t even gone on any dates since turning sixteen, have you? Even though we said it was fine when you were fifteen.”
Elinor’s mind froze. “Mom… I don’t want to talk about it!” she snapped, doing her best to turn away from her.
Her mother just giggled.
She’s so…
“Grrh.”
“Anyways,” her mother settled back into her seat, pulling out her phone. “We’ll be staying in a hotel in this town tonight. Unfortunately, the original one we were supposed to stay at wouldn’t return our money,” she hummed irritably. “Anyways, tomorrow we should reach Cúcuta.”
“Finally,” Elinor moaned. Not trusting her dad to snatch her earrings while she wasn’t looking, she slid them into the pocket with her headphones for safekeeping.
“So…” her mom trailed off.
