Book One of Everlan
Led by a witch and her seven nieces, an orphaned Ancient must reach the fabled Nine Oceans within three full moons to break Mayem's curse and reunite with his family.
At the sacred pools of Dragonfall, Roulic meets the cursed witch, Aurora, and agrees to her dangerous compact. In exchange, he gains access to the magic of her sisters living within Doth’s Inner Realm.
Roulic’s first assignment for Aurora is to bring home the mysterious Divine of Doth. During this task he rescues and falls for the beautiful Ancient, Ravenna. Torn leaving her, he enters the Inner Realm, hunting the one who left her for dead. When Ravenna heads south into the enemy territory of Dandoorthose, Roulic pledges to retrieve the gnomes’ stolen Pearlytok: A golden key made by the Masters that opens portals between the realms.
Taken by giants, passed to the faeries and traded to pirates, the Perlytok sails to Dandling Oars, the island lair of Mayem, the evil overlord of the dragons of Doth.
Can Roulic fulfill his promise, find his family, and return to Ravenna?
Book One of Everlan
Led by a witch and her seven nieces, an orphaned Ancient must reach the fabled Nine Oceans within three full moons to break Mayem's curse and reunite with his family.
At the sacred pools of Dragonfall, Roulic meets the cursed witch, Aurora, and agrees to her dangerous compact. In exchange, he gains access to the magic of her sisters living within Doth’s Inner Realm.
Roulic’s first assignment for Aurora is to bring home the mysterious Divine of Doth. During this task he rescues and falls for the beautiful Ancient, Ravenna. Torn leaving her, he enters the Inner Realm, hunting the one who left her for dead. When Ravenna heads south into the enemy territory of Dandoorthose, Roulic pledges to retrieve the gnomes’ stolen Pearlytok: A golden key made by the Masters that opens portals between the realms.
Taken by giants, passed to the faeries and traded to pirates, the Perlytok sails to Dandling Oars, the island lair of Mayem, the evil overlord of the dragons of Doth.
Can Roulic fulfill his promise, find his family, and return to Ravenna?
“Is this a dream?”
“Yes, this is a dream. Our dream.”
“But, I’m awake.” Agnes purred, smelling fresh grass.
“I know, child. We’re always awake, even in our dreams.” Marlee soothed her little sister.
“But, are dreams real?” asked Agnes.
“Of course they’re real, silly. If dreams weren’t real, we wouldn’t be in them, now would we?” They giggled.
Agnes fidgeted as Marlee stood behind her, teasing her jet black braids into the ocean breeze. “It’s happening! I can see the blue stones!” She tipped on her toes then squatted on the bluff, her braids touching matted grass. “Who is that man?” Agnes pointed.
“It’s okay. He can’t see us,” Marlee assured.
“He looks sad. Who is he?”
Marlee stood tall when Agnes repeated, “Who is he, Marlee? Who is that man?”
"That is the man who is going to bring our sisters home."
"Today?"
"No, not today. But with a little magic, and a lot of luck, they could be home in three moon's time." Marlee let go of Agnes and clapped.
“Come on, it’s time for tea my little one. Eyes open now, I’ve got games for us to play!” Agnes opened her eyes, turned around and hugged her big sister, one hand reaching to tug on Marlee’s sandy locks. Marlee smiled, then sighed looking up to the sun, sending a whisper floating up and out over the waves breaking from the Great Sea, “It can happen now.”
Roulic ignored the golden rays and hungry song of woodland birds. He rolled up his bedding, combing the forest edge for deciduous trees. Satisfying his hunger with a mouthful of mushrooms and berries his hands quivered, then dropped, after discovering four spotted eggs in a small nest. A swooping crow squawked reminding him he would thrive without eating them. Coming full circle, he snatched several hickory nuts eyed on a young Shagbark, tossing them into his brown leather pack before walking towards the rising sun.
It was East that beckoned, where Destiny, whose episodic call he had long ago come to heed, was now summoning. He had grown to consider it an honor to pursue her cries, for they more often than not led to faraway and unusual places. The kind of places that overshadowed duties of perennial humdrum, his fated day-to-day existence amidst Mortalkin. Places made for the abiding squall that only high adventure and the dogging of distant dreams could deliver.
Roulic hadn’t four hours of rest, yet his limbs were quick to find a rhythm upon Old Rock Road, the ancient trail earning its name for its millions of stones. Millions upon millions of bluish rocks that lay a long, winding trail from base to summit of the noble Mt. Nocturne. The high mountain must have spent ages tending the great puzzle, he thought. But what came first? Their formation, smoothing, or their placement as I walk upon them this very day? He considered all three.
Winding through the flatlands led to Giant’s Hill, home to a small village called Dragon Fyre, the ominous name coming from a long-ago legend involving an unwitting dragon and a large community of field mice. The mice, because of an abundant summer, had propagated to what amounted to an unruly, starving horde. When the teeming tribe of rodents depleted their immediate food supply, they spread out in search of sustenance. Making their way closer to Giant’s Hill, some of them settled, exhausted, resting in the dual entrance of a damp grotto untouched by the burning solstice sun. A hillside wildfire swept up, then down to the village nestled below the kindled slope. Unknown to the mice and villagers, a sleeping dragon lay between the fire and the village, its long, curvy tail buried beneath a dry mulch of leaves and straw. When the blaze singed the fleshy tail, the scaly beast rose emitting several freakish howls. Turning towards its attacker, the blinding sun pierced the dragon’s eyes drawing out an overwhelming sneeze. Dozens of desperate mice who had sought slumber within the damp nostrils of the bewailing creature had by now panicked, hanging on to its coarse nose hair. The ensuing sneeze not only expelled the terrified rodents, its blast and bellow reached nearby villages, causing alarm bells to sound, sending echoes up through the mountain pass. The blistering fire that threatened to engulf the little village was all but expelled by the mighty dragons’ opportune sneeze. To this day, the villagers of Dragon Fyre still honor the ‘good fortune’ dragon with summer games, firelight feasts, and stories of its high flight before the mice had hit the ground.
Recalling the legend of Dragon Fyre made Roulic uneasy as he stopped at the village well for water. His unease came not from liking nor disliking dragons. And, not because they spelled doom when spotted. He’d only seen a few dragons in his life and every time they made him feel sad. Dragons lived for centuries, in solitary. Or, so he thought, and that idea was enough to cause him temporary grief when thinking of dragons. He didn’t stop longer than it took to get water and say “good morning” to a red-shouldered hawk whose clear whistled calls spiraled toward the upper kingdom of Doth.
It was midday when he came upon a herder tending his tribe. Old Rock Road was offering large stones, and the goats examined nooks and crannies as they crossed over to graze the fertile slope. The herder saw him and began waving his hands towards the skirting tree line. Roulic stepped off the azure path and stood amongst the animals as the herder drew near. Their eyes met just as a shrill cry accompanied by a gust of wind came down the mountainside, blowing loose grass and twigs into the trees.
“That one felt like my Taisiya. She’s not had a breath nor a heartbeat for three years now.” The herder admired Roulic’s adorned pack and hearty walking stick. Roulic’s eyes gleamed at the curious man who sensed this was no commoner coming up the mountain.
“The songs of mountains are plenty in passing. But none more melodious than those of this mighty one, old Nocturne.”
“Aye, there never was a greater one than she,” the herder nodded. “Tell me, friend, where are you headed on this fine day?” he asked. Roulic panned a long arm, staring far off across the horizon. “I’m off to the other side of the mountains, beyond… all of this… to gaze the Nine Oceans.” The herder then let out a ridiculous laugh while slapping both knees.
“What? Without so much as a horse or guide? And all by yourself in search of misty legends?” His wind-worn cheeks framed a suspended smile.
“My good man, just because you’ve seen no horse does not mean I’ve not a gallant steed awaiting yonder, nor, as we speak, three seasoned guides all coming my way.” Roulic’s lack of levity and bold assertion brought the goat herder back down to earth. Roulic continued. “Tell me, does the Harking Toad still stand? It’s been quite some time since I’ve warmed to the hearth of that fabled frog.”
“Aye, that's where you are heading. Yes. She’s still standing. And, wearing the new roof they put up the sum before last. It’s not so grimy now, the place. But, it may be crowded as there’s a gathering going on. She may be full up.”
“I’ll take a chance,” Roulic said, “if the old Toad has any memory of me and the lad is still around.”
“What lad?” asked the herder. Roulic paused, changing the subject to the health of the herd’s queen goat and collie as the curious herder unraveled his knapsack, revealing a loaf of rustic bread.
“Join me for lunch?” he asked, “I’ve got two cups..”
Roulic accepted, and the two men soon found themselves lost in laughter and the merits of goat's milk. While eating and resting, each man exchanged stories of high adventure on Mt. Nocturne. Roulic listened to how the brokenhearted herder had lost his wife, Taisiya, to a long illness and learned witches had haunted the mountaintop village called Top of the World. When it was time to part, they agreed to meet for lunch again someday in the same place on the Old Rock Road as fate had brought them today.
"So, tell me, what draws you to the Nine Oceans? A beautiful girl, perhaps?" The herder smiled.
Roulic thought of Destiny and her calling him to the great mountain. "Something like that," he answered.
"Well, you are still young. You've got plenty of time to wander in sacred places between decision and destiny." advised the herder.
“Too much time. I guess you could call me an endless wanderer." Roulic walked away toward the trail of stones.
"Forgive me. What may I call you, my wandering friend?” the herder carried on. “My mother named me Alexander Chase, but you may call me Chase, as most do on this side of the mountain. I’ve not much need for Alexander these days.”
Turning with a wave, Roulic's voice went deep while walking backwards towards the trail. “You may call me Roulic, a friend for life on the Old Rock Road! And I shall remember you, my friend, that on this fine day I heard the wind cry out ‘Sasha’ as if to remind you—your beloved is alive and well and forever by your side!”
Alexander fell to one knee. “Taisiya always called me Sasha!” Tears of joy wet his cheeks as he waved farewell. Watching Roulic walk away he said, “And you knew!”
Now in full heel strike, Roulic disappeared into the mountain mist. The grazing goats became distant specks when he turned to look back down the mountain. His path had now become a maze of stepping stones best traveled with a keen eye on each advance. The wind picked up and swirled across the rocky trail in rapid gusts. This perilous dance of wind etching rock spit at the ensuing rain from the grey walls of thick mist now drenching the mountain.
With only two hours of light left, he knew darkness would await him at the Old Cave site. If it was still there, still intact, and still suitable for shelter. A half a century passed since he last slept there taking refuge from a pack of rabid wolves. Wolves sent to dispatch him.
Spoilers: Conor Jest's Where The Witches Dwell is an effective and enchanting epic fantasy with many brilliant characters, intriguing plot angles, and enough unique angles to create an excellent imaginative world.
Roulic is part of a race called the Ancient Ones. Roulic is on a mission to look for his missing family and to help residents of the Kingdom of Doth to prepare for war against the neighboring kingdom of Dandoorthose. While helping some old friends, Roulic is drawn to a mysterious forest where a family of witches dwell who offer their assistance if he will help them.
Where the Witches Dwell has some memorable characters and events that pay tribute to epic fantasy tropes but also are able to make the book its own instead of relying on cliches. The very concept of Roulic and the Witches belonging to a group called the Ancient Ones is brilliant. They aren't completely human, but not elven either. Instead, they are long lived and eternally youthful in appearance. They also seem to be intuitive and are skilled in sorcery. They are separate from humans dubbed, "Mortalkind." The witches for example live apart from Mortalkind in the woods and most fear and avoid them.
Other Ancient Ones adapt. Because Roulic is youthful in appearance, he has voluntarily lived with different families over the years as an unofficial adopted son and worker. After a few years, when Roulic's family ages and he doesn't, he moves on. He doesn't have any long term living arrangements but because of this nomadic lifestyle had plenty of surrogate family members.
Many of the tasks that Roulic faces are well written. Roulic first meets witch and future love interest, Ravenna when he rescues her from a curse in which her hair is intertwined with the ropes of a bridge, thereby becoming a part of the bridge herself.
Another task involves Roulic visiting a kingdom of gnomes. It is nice to see gnomes take an active role in this fantasy series, when they are often nonexistent in other works, unlike elves and dwarves who are everywhere in fantasy.
Characterization is strong particularly with Roulic and the Witches. Roulic is the type of hero that we expect from the genre: brave, honest, courageous, and empathetic towards others. He has many mortal friends and tries to help them with their struggles while dealing with his own. He has some great moments, particularly with Ravenna when they fall in love. He also has a dark past in which he has to face up to.
In contrast to the affable and empathetic Roulic, the witch siblings live apart from Mortalkind and mostly interact with each other. They clearly care about each other as when some are put in danger, the others will aid them. They also recognize the larger picture of what will affect everyone else, eventually will affect them. So they offer as much magical assistance as they can to Roulic, but in a standoffish way.
Because of their mostly isolated nature, the moments where the Witches interact with other characters outside of their family are made even more heartfelt. The Mortalkind outside the woods originally were distrustful towards them and now are welcoming because of their assistance. A slow burning romance develops between Jillian, a witch and Callian, a mortal showing how both sides accept and adapt to each other.
Where the Witches Dwell is an enchanting beginning to a hopefully magical series.