Reborn from Fire
Reborn from Fire is Kareyn Hellmann’s debut novel, set in the mystical world of Karasii.
Reborn to the empire, Cara was the same as any of the other Aradors: submissive, patient, and mediocre. Anytime a spark of the person she was before attempted to emerge, the oaths that bound her to service squashed it. Yet, even the Kikastan Empire cannot hold the gods at bay for long, and the servant found the courage to run, abandoning the realm of the Emperor, may his glory shake the foundations of time, forever.
However, the ruler was not content to allow her escape, and hunted by the Empire’s elite, Cara found herself swept into a prophecy of destruction and hope, capturing the hearts of the people around her, but willing to do anything necessary for survival.
On the other side of Karasii, the warrior state of Salbanda recently fell to the Empire’s dominion, and the young prince of Nogtram, whose country is next on the chopping block, headed to the heart of the Empire to bargain for terms.
The characters collide in an epic tale of fantasy, hope, magic, and destruction that will leave the mind racing. Reborn from Fire is not yet available for sale.
“What are names to you and me?” Cara said to him. “I have many. Names do not define us.”
Reborn from Fire -Chapter 24
Excerpt: Prologue
“Bury the memories. They are just glimmerings of your imagination. There is nothing truly there. Sweep them away. Bury, but do not forget. Never forget. There is nothing but the void around you. My voice is your lifeline. Without it, you will perish. The Emperor, may his glory shake the foundations of time, is your lifeline. Remember this, but nothing else from outside the void.”
Nothing existed in the void. For an instant, as the creature floated in murky grayness, it felt that something about its surroundings was wrong. A glimmer of understanding pulled to it, promising life, but though it tried to reach the memory, the glimmer disappeared, just out of its grasp. Devoid of anything and everything, the creature struggled. Letting loose a piercing cry, it heard nothing. No sound existed in the void.
It tried to sleep, attempting to pass into a waking trance, but though it had all the time in the world, it could not force its entity to quiet. It tried to count seconds, but after reaching the thousands, its concentration began to fly apart, and it seemed like an hour had passed in between when it had recited the last number and the next.
It had time to think, but nothing to think on. Merely an animal capable of conscious thought, it was an empty vessel, ready to be filled. What had it done to be trapped in the void? The creature felt that there had once been something more, but again, that glimmer eluded it. Trying to think without thinking, the creature drifted through a sea of emptiness.
Over time, the silence began to beat down on the creature unmercifully, trying to suffocate its very entity. It craved something else. It craved light and noise. As insanity threatened to overcome it, the creature struggled to make sound where there was no sound—any kind of noise to drive off the insanity.
Then, like a thunderclap dividing the heavens, a voice spoke. Overwhelmed by joy and feverous excitement, the creature drank in the flows of the voice. Though utterly expressionless, the voice held back oblivion and insanity. Savoring the ups and downs of the melodic language, the creature drank from the cup of life. When the creature shifted its attention to the words being conveyed, the voice disappeared.
Left alone in the darkness, it scrambled, trying to remember what had been said. It wondered if the voice was nonexistent, conjured by its own imagination as a ploy to avoid the darkness encroaching upon it. For another eon the creature drifted, recalling bits and pieces of the voice, longing for another chance to hear the words.
When insanity once more beckoned, the voice spoke again. The creature drank in the sounds, but this time, it listened to the words, processing them and tucking them away for later. The voice truly was its lifeline. Without it, the creature would be suffocated, its entity crushed by the darkness around it. Though it might have been better to simply give up than to exist where nothing existed, when it came to it, the creature still possessed that animal desire for life and survival. When the voice had left it again, the creature reviewed what had been said, memorizing the words.
“You are called Lily. That is not your name, for servants are nameless. The lowest of the low, you exist only to serve. You are an empty vessel, ready to be filled. You have come a long way to serve the Emperor, may his glory shake the foundations of time, but you have failed his Holiness. Fear not, he has given you a second chance. There will be no one below you, and everyone shall be above you. You must obey. When they come, you must swear the oaths.”
The creature gasped in relief as it processed the receding words. With them had come an understanding of hope and peace. She felt peaceful when she thought on them. She was named Lily. She had an identity now. She was ready to obey. She had failed the Emperor, may his glory shake the foundations of time, but he had sought fit to give her a second chance. Something tugged on her consciousness, but she pushed it away. It did not matter. Nothing mattered except for the words.
Seeming eons passed in this manner. Phrases tumbled frantically through Lily’s mind: “…an empty vessel…” “…serve the Emperor…” “…Obey.” Often, she would reach the brink of insanity, barely managing to hold on. However, the voice always came back, just in time to rescue her.
At the end of a torture of eons, or perhaps it was only seconds outside of the void, the voice returned, but it changed. Dripping with warmth and love, it conveyed a sense of satisfaction, joy, and hope. All this occurred in one word: “Awake.”
And Lily awoke.