Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence

Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence

Text Copyright © 2012 by Kimbro West

Ethan Wright Publishing Rights © Kimbro West LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any electronic system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

All characters and events are the original creation of Kimbro West. Any resemblance to actual people or existing characters is strictly a coincidence.

Young Adult Fiction

A young boy struggles to find his twin brother who has been missing for three years. Ethan realizes he can travel to a new world through an Oroborus named Dimon where he traces the footprints of a legendary life led by his twin. Facing similar hardships and challenges bestowed before him, Ethan must learn the ways of alchemy or his journey will end in peril.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9887870-0-1

ISBN-10: 0988787008

For Gerda

A special thanks to:

Chief Editor, Heidi Lunderberg

Cover and Book Art, Manthos Lappas of LnC Art Studios LLC

Reading Panel, Jody, Julie and Jordyn

Follow Author Kimbro West at:

www.kimbrowest.com

EthanWright

and the Curse of Silence

Prelude

So who is Ethan Wright? He is but an idea, or a method of conclusion to be more specific. Maybe he is a weapon, or simply just a boy. Whatever he is, for the town of Whitehaven, he is a chosen saint... our chosen saint. It all stems from the creature, the one who has the ability to create and also take away. The Oroborus has the answers about Ethan Wright. The Oroborus has the answers about our future.

The tail devourer — you see, the Oroborus has a beginning, it has a middle and it has an end. It is a continuous circle of life. But Ethan Wright has only seen the beginning; he has not been given enough time. Time … it is a funny thing, meddlesome in appearance. When first perceived it has so many benefits — but when pondered, more drawbacks than anyone can ever imagine. The only thing a soul can truly own is their time — if you take that away … what is left? It is difficult for a King to ponder time ... I bet the alchemist knows.

I can only see myself lucky to be alive to witness this event. It is forbidden to interfere with the will of the Oroborus … forbidden to interfere with the Curse of Silence. But for this King to rule these lands, at this time, at just the right moment — I watch with an open mind, let the events unfold as intended and watch our saint discover who he is. This is my journal, the diary of a King.

King Basileus

Chapter 1
A Brother Removed

Isaac staggered... he paused as a drop of sweat formed at his brow from an exhausting battle. Blood dripped from his nose and trickled from his ears. He looked sick and pale as he knelt despairingly in the mud. With his head drooping, he leaned forward to reach for his sword. Before he could grasp the hilt, smoke plumed and swelled around him. And from the fog, a face formed. The mouth burst open as if to scream … but no sound came. The jaws stretched open as smoke roiled around Isaac, enveloping him. When the smoke dissipated, the bloody-nosed boy had disappeared…

Ethan awoke instantly. His breath came in jagged gasps as he jumped to his feet. His chest was pounding and he was covered in sweat, but the only thing he could think of was to find his brother in the darkness. He leaned over to his nightstand and lit an oil-soaked wick in an old lantern. As the small room was illuminated, Ethan looked to the opposite side. There stood the empty bed that once belonged to his twin brother. Ethan wiped his face with his bed sheets and peered across the room again; the bed was still empty. He let out a long, slow breath as he brushed his dark, messy hair out of his eyes. Realizing it was just another dream, he sat back down on his bed and rubbed his eyes. Was it possible that his brother was still alive? Was he at least safe somewhere? There was no way to know for sure.

Ethan noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see his grey-and-white cat Loki standing up and stretching at the foot of the bed. The cat looked annoyed from the sudden movement of the bed; he yawned and then looked at Ethan with his enormous green eyes. Ethan always thought the cat was a bit odd-looking, with flabby skin in its armpits and an extra toe on both of its front paws. He had been with the family since the birth of the twins and was always there for Ethan to draw comfort from. Tonight was no different from most nights. Loki jumped into Ethan’s arms and presented him with an affectionate ‘meow’.

Ethan took the cat and walked through the dimly lit hallway into the study where he found his favorite comfortable chair and sat down with a plop. The room was dark and dreary; there were old charts and maps strewn about the desk that had yellowed with age. As Ethan petted Loki, he noticed the coals in the fireplace still softly glowing.

“Another dream …?”

A frail voice came from across the room.

Ethan looked up, half-surprised his caretaker, Odin, was still awake. The withered-faced elder was sitting in a chair by the desk. Ethan went back to petting Loki.

“It’s not bad to dream about your brother,” the old caretaker said gently as he ran his long fingers through his silvery-grey hair. Odin rose, made his way to the kitchen, prepared some tea, and came back to the study.

“It’s not that….” replied Ethan quietly.

“It does not mean you won’t see him again. I am sure that wherever he is … he could be thinking of you right now — could be off somewhere having tea, just like we are.”

He handed Ethan a steaming mug, which he grasped with both hands. The hot vapors were comforting on his face. Loki got up, annoyed, and jumped off Ethan’s lap; he walked across the floor and curled up by the fireplace.

“It would be a nice thought, but somehow I don’t think so,” said Ethan. “I don’t imagine him being the tea type.”

“Oh, I see….” The old caretaker smiled. “I think there is more to dreams than you or I know.”

When Ethan remained silent, Odin scratched his withering grey beard, leaned forward, picked up an old map off the desk and continued. “Your father made almost all of these maps, didn’t he? It’s rather amazing what some simple tools and the will to explore all over the countryside can do to an old man — don’t you think?”

“I guess. But with such a poor memory I’ve never been able to figure out how he could document our front yard, let alone make a map of the entire city,” replied Ethan smugly.

Odin snickered. “That may be true, but adventure … or misadventure — the spirit is in him, and I suspect Isaac has that same spirit.”

“I know you would try and comfort me, Odin, but I know my brother well. He would not have left without saying anything.”

“You may be right,” replied Odin softly. He then paused and looked at Ethan with curiosity. “Tell me, what
did
you see in your dream this evening?”

The room went silent for a few moments. The glow from the fireplace glared off Ethan’s face as he looked up at Odin.

“I saw the face again,” replied Ethan blankly.

Odin nodded slightly, as if he was satisfied with the answer.

Ethan had recurring dreams about the fog attacking his twin. Although he was never used to the idea of seeing his brother in mortal turmoil, it did bring Ethan comfort to know that he could still visit his brother, even if it was in a dream.

Ethan gulped down his tea, grabbed Loki, and headed back to his bed to recover any sleep that remained while the stars blanketed the sky. He grabbed the covers that had fallen to the floor next to his bed, and tossed them so they floated gracefully downward. Loki curled up at the foot of the bed and gave an affectionate meow, and Ethan closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

The morning soon came and Ethan felt as refreshed as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep. He rose to his feet and peered out the window. His friend Auren was already outside; Ethan threw his clothes on and ran out the front door. He skipped down half of the wooden stairs, grabbed the railing, and vaulted down the remainder of the staircase. He breathed in the fresh air of his hometown, Strahlung.

“Heya!” greeted Ethan. “You don’t get up this early — where are you off to?”

“Father sent me off to the store to fetch some things,” grumbled Auren. “He gets this way when Mum is on his case… you can run up with me if ya like.”

Ethan nodded and the two began to amble down the small dirt trail that led to the small shop in the middle of town. The trail was just wide enough to pull a cart through, which Auren had done several times in the past to help the shopkeeper carry supplies. There were a series of wild-berried bushes to their left and tall pine trees to their right. They turned right at the next path that grew slightly wider and came upon the general store. They were met by a middle-aged man with very noticeable crow’s-feet around his eyes.

“Good morning, Vincent,” smiled Ethan.

“Ahh, good morning, just the two I wanted to see!” replied Vincent. He leaned down and put all the weight from his thin body into pushing a very heavy barrel up the ramp to the entrance of the store.

“Oh, let me get that for you,” insisted Auren. He walked to the barrel, picked it up, and placed it on one of his shoulders. Auren was stockier than Ethan and always tried to impress his friends by showing off his strength. There was no doubt about it; he was indeed strong, and could lift more at the age of thirteen than most grown men.

“Oh thank you, Auren. My word, you are getting stronger, aren’t you?”

Vincent motioned them into the front of the log structure and the three of them went inside.

“Age has its way of catching up with us. And as for my poor back, age has definitely caught up with me. You can set it down right here, Auren, thank you.” The kind storekeeper rubbed the right side of his back with his hand while making his way to the other side of the counter. With a thud, Auren set down the barrel.

Vincent was now looking at the boys. “Now then, what can I do for you?”

“Just picking up some stuff for father,” replied Auren as he turned to peruse the store.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything.” Vincent now focused his attention on Ethan. “So, any word from your father?”

“No, sir,” replied Ethan quietly.

“Well, he is a mapmaker right? Maybe he found some new territory to … ah — chart.” Vincent was now scratching his slightly balding head.

“He has been gone for two years now.”

“
Two years!
My my, the time certainly passes, doesn’t it? Your father is known to have a terrible memory — could have got a bit turned around. But, it’s like I always say — you can find your way into trouble easy, but getting out is twice as hard.”

Auren was stumbling to the front counter with his hands full of goods for his father and some licorice root for the short trip back. He set the goods on the counter, pulled some money out of his pocket, and handed it to the chatty storekeeper.