The First Adventure Read online

  Heroes of Hastovia

  Book 1: The First Adventure

  Mark Boutros

  Contents

  About the Author

  Get More Books For Free!

  Dedication

  Currently known map of Hastovia

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Thank You!

  Bye Bye

  About the Author

  Mark Boutros is an International Emmy nominated and PAGE International award-winning writer who has written for Disney, the Cartoon Network, Sky One, the BBC and Sky Arts

  He was born in London and still dreams of leaving it for a mountain where he can grow his own food and not be asked to do things

  If you want to know more about Mark visit

  www.mark-boutros.com

  Twitter: @MarkBoutros

  Instagram: @markboutroswrites

  Get More Books For Free!

  As a thank you for buying this book, you are invited to join my exclusive Legends of Hastovia Crew, which gives you a free book, Heroes of Hastovia Book X: The First Fool and other perks.

  To join the club head over to

  www.mark-boutros.com/crew

  If you like this book, please do leave a review and spread the word. Thanks so much for reading!

  First published in the UK by Mark Boutros 2017

  Copyright © Mark Boutros 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews.

  Unauthorised reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, dead or alive, or places is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to reality is argued against by the fact there is a Man-Hawk and other stupid hybrid things.

  Wonderful cover art by Lewis Moorhead

  FlewDesigns

  www.flewdesigns.com

  Awesome map design by Tania Gomes

  www.mystic-wings.com

  Created with Vellum

  This book is dedicated to Cinthia, who listened to me mumble my way through the story outline a thousand times and still supports my strange dreams

  Currently known map of Hastovia

  1

  ‘We’ve done a decent job.’ King Sastin stepped away from the edge of the King’s Tower. He straightened his cloak and enjoyed the breeze tickling his beard.

  To the north, the spiky black rocks of Mount Hastovia glowed an ominous white under the night sun. The mountain was the most dominant feature in the country of Flowfornia. It made Flowforn castle appear insignificant, which was annoying considering how much effort the king had put into building the capital.

  King Sastin’s chubby aide, Lombus, nodded. ‘I’ve never seen Flowfornians so happy. I’d go so far to say this is probably the happiest place not only in Flowfornia, but in the whole of Hastovia.’ He unrolled a scroll. ‘We’ve welcomed thirty-one new people to Flowforn this year, and none have left.’

  King Sastin smiled. ‘The way it should be.’

  Lombus rolled the scroll back up and turned towards the northwesterly waterfalls. ‘Do you ever think about exploring again?’

  King Sastin shook his head. ‘I’m no longer interested in the rest of the world and neither should anyone else be. They’ve got everything they need within our four walls.’

  Lombus nodded. ‘Shall we go back down? The wind is getting a bit pushier.’

  King Sastin chuckled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think you’ll be fine.’ Even the strongest winds couldn’t blow Lombus away. A diet of bread and more bread dipped in oil-soaked bread mixed with meat had guaranteed that.

  Lombus sucked in his stomach. ‘I’ve been very restrained recently.’

  ‘Of course you have…’ King Sastin stepped onto the King’s Eye bridge. It connected the King’s Tower to the Lookout Tower and stretched over the administration building that housed the Great Hall, meeting rooms, and other places nobody cared about.

  King Sastin stopped in the middle of the bridge.

  Flowfornians watched him from the red-pebbled courtyard below. His tall, trained physique probably made him look like a statue of himself.

  He grinned at the home he created. The bright colours of the garden in the southwest corner, where people sat among flowery, pretty things for no particular reason. Flowforn Tavern, where people drowned their days. The maze of alleys below, where clothes makers, instrument crafters and recipe inventors sold their creations.

  There was something for everyone here.

  ‘Sastin! Sastin!’ People chanted.

  He waved and smiled, but guilt invaded his thoughts like an army.

  ‘They’ll never forget it.’ Lombus patted the king’s back. ‘Being free to follow their dreams and do what they want. It’s all because of you.’

  King Sastin nodded and swallowed, but shame joined guilt in the battle. He continued onto the Lookout Tower. ‘Flowforn must always be a place where people can follow their dreams and find their true selves. That can never change, to honour the sacrifices of the past.’

  ‘Of course. Now let’s get some supper. I can smell the fresh bread from up here.’

  King Sastin shook his head. He squinted and pointed to the hills in the distance. ‘What’s that over there?’

  Lombus stared where King Sastin pointed. ‘What? I don’t see anything. Should we be worried?’

  ‘It looks like your restraint is disappearing over those hills.’ King Sastin grinned.

  Lombus huffed. ‘You know, kings shouldn’t have a sense of humour. It clouds their judgement.’

  King Sastin chuckled but his thoughts darkened again. ‘Listen. I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’

  ‘If this leads to a joke about me I’ll be very upset,’ Lombus warned.

  ‘No. No… I need a favour.’ He'd wanted to ask for a while but kept finding reasons not to.

  ‘A favour? I’m… Whatever it is I’d be honoured.’

  King Sastin appreciated Lombus’ loyalty. ‘I need you to talk to someone for me.’

  ‘Who?’

  King Sastin looked beyond the farms towards the cemetery where a boy with brown hair sat on the soil. The more the boy aged the more he looked like her. King Sastin wondered whether his mind tricked him to make him feel guilty. It couldn’t be. ‘Actually, we’ll discuss it later. Let’s enjoy the evening fir
st.’

  ‘Whatever you prefer.’

  They descended the Lookout Tower to join the free people who chanted the name of their great king, but he didn’t feel so great.

  2

  Karl sat cross-legged in front of two blue stones the size of his head and stared at the carved names of Polward and Ansel. He blew his unclean, brown hair away from his skinny face, dropped a handful of honey-covered beans into his mouth and sipped ale from a water pouch.

  ‘Things are going okay here, I’ve mostly been sleeping and eating.’ He counted himself lucky to have lived in Flowforn for his nineteen years.

  He poured water from a flask over the stones and rubbed them. ‘I got dismissed from another task today. Building.’ He wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. ‘There was a new tower, supposed to house fifty more people coming into Flowforn. They’d spent a year building it and carved all sorts of nice looking creatures into the stone. I misjudged where to put a steel spike and hammered the wrong part…’ He shook his head. ‘So now the builders hate me, along with the bakers who still spit at me when they see me.’ He sighed. ‘So that’s cleaner, blacksmith, builder, baker, farmer, jester… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be good at.’

  He picked up a twig and scratched the soil with it. ‘I wish you were here to guide me. All I do is fail. If that was work I’d be the best… the supreme failure. I could go from kingdom to kingdom, teaching people how to be great failures.’ He drank more ale. ‘I like to imagine what you were both like. Dad, I think you were hard working, and that you liked beans too. And Mum, I imagine you were funny, always talking to people and they all liked you.’

  He patted the stones. ‘I’ll try to make you proud… Or I’ll keep eating these beans so I can join you sooner.’

  ‘Oi!’ an angry voice called out.

  Karl's body tensed. Two brutes armed with mallets blocked the cemetery entrance.

  ‘I’d better go. I love you.’ Karl ran away.

  The brutes stalked him around the graves and stones. He sprinted towards the entrance, but a wide, bald man holding a mallet stepped in his way.

  ‘Proster… Hi… How are you?’ Karl struggled to catch his breath.

  ‘Worthless runt!’ Proster squeezed Karl’s arm so tight that Karl felt the brute’s thumb against his bone. ‘You seem to visit here a lot. Maybe we can make it your new home.’ He gritted his teeth.

  The other brutes closed in and smirked.

  Proster raised his mallet and all Karl could do was stare at it. He braced himself even though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

  ‘What’s going on?’ a familiar voice asked and Karl’s body relaxed.

  Princess Sabrinia stood behind the brutes. She pushed her long black hair behind her ear.

  ‘Nothing, Princess.’ Proster released Karl. ‘We were just on our way to rebuild the tower when we ran into our friend. I was showing him the proper technique for striking spikes with a mallet.’

  She nodded and folded her arms. ‘Well, good luck rebuilding.’

  Proster stared at her. He took a breath and walked away. His fellow brutes followed.

  ‘Are you okay, Karl?’ She held his wrist.

  Karl nodded. ‘I am now. Thanks for getting me work with them. I’m sorry it didn’t come to anything.’

  ‘Some day we’ll find you the right work.’ She shrugged. ‘Will you walk with me?’

  He smiled. ‘Of course. Where do you want to go?’

  ‘Just, around.’

  They walked beyond a pile of rubble, the remains of the tower Karl had accidentally destroyed. He offered an apologetic look to Proster, who smashed his mallet against a rock and stared at him.

  Karl and Sabrinia entered the gardens and walked along the stone slabs on the grass. Sabrinia dragged her feet, frowning, as though concentrating more on thinking than walking. Her blue dress brushing the stones masked the silence.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Karl asked.

  ‘Yes… Yes, I’m fine.’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you want to play three word monster?’

  ‘Aren’t we a bit too old for that?’

  ‘That’s the point. It’s nice to do some of the things that used to make us happy.’

  Karl smiled. ‘Before you had to do all the things a princess does?’

  ‘Exactly. There’s only so much smiling and waving at people you can do before you lose any sense of joy.’

  Karl chuckled. ‘Okay.’ He took a few steps ahead and then turned around. ‘Leaf. Fire. And… Donkey-sloth.’

  Sabrinia tapped her fingers against the side of her head. ‘This is a tricky one… Hmm…’

  ‘I’m happy to help if it’s too much of a struggle.’ He smirked.

  She tutted. ‘Got it! There’s an evil donkey-sloth and it travels on a giant, flying leaf to swoop down and bite people. And if you touch it, your hand catches fire.’ She smiled. ‘It’s hard to be creative when it’s been so long.’

  Karl nodded. ‘Very good. Okay, give me my three.’

  She stopped and sat on a stone bench. She looked at him as though she was about to apologise for something. ‘Actually, before I do, there’s something I need to tell you, Karl.’ She patted the part of the bench next to her, so he sat.

  ‘Okay…’ He studied her expression. He assumed it was bad because nobody ever gave him good news.

  She took a breath and her eyes met his, but before the words could leave her mouth, Lombus, panting, rushed up to them, his face pale with shock. ‘Princess… we… we need… speak.’

  Sabrinia huffed. ‘Hold on, Karl. It’s no doubt more princess related nonsense. I probably waved too aggressively at someone so now have to write a letter of apology.’

  Karl smiled at her, happy to wait.

  Lombus walked her far enough away that Karl couldn’t hear them.

  Karl stared at his tatty shoes, hoping that what she wanted to talk about wasn’t as serious as her face suggested. Perhaps she wanted him to work for her. He peeled sticky beans off the inside of his pocket and ate them.

  Sabrinia screamed and wrapped her arms around Lombus.

  3

  Karl entered the crowded courtyard on the last of the ten bells of goodbye. He would have arrived sooner, but he had to avoid running into Proster, who lurked in the alleys outside Karl’s room for the last two sunsets.

  Sadness hung over everything, from the walls lined with statues of former kings, to the waste well in the middle of the courtyard. For the first time in Karl’s life, the iron gate of Flowforn Arch was closed and the flames above it did not burn.

  He wanted to get closer to Sabrinia but spotted Proster across the crowd so stopped. One funeral was enough.

  Sabrinia’s tears fell onto her black mourning armour. She stared at King Sastin’s straw-covered body, which rested in a grave under his statue.

  Sabrinia’s skinny aide, Questions, pulled on her loose-fitting, shabby clothes that matched her messy red hair. She placed the last of the straw on the king’s torso, followed by three clear stones in a line from his chest to his waist. They represented peace, light, and spirit. She hugged Sabrinia and Lombus then pushed a creaking wheelbarrow towards the alleys.

  Lombus handed Sabrinia a torch.

  She set the king ablaze, and the sparkle in her eyes dwindled behind fear, sadness, and the reflection of the flames devouring her father.

  A Flowfornian band played their violins. That was it, a life dedicated to improving the world for others reduced to ash in the time it would take to play a few songs.

  ‘It would have touched him to know how much you all loved him.’ Sabrinia gazed at her father. ‘And at least now Mother’s soul no longer needs to wander Hastovia alone.’

  Karl leaned on a barrel and searched for a friendly face to mourn with, but only saw people he had angered.

  ‘Are you okay, Karl?’ Questions returned from the alleys and stood next to him.

  ‘Sort of…’ He was glad to have someone to talk to.

  �
��Are you sad?’

  Karl nodded. ‘King Sastin and Sabrinia have always been good to me.’

  Questions scratched her arm. ‘Does death make you think of your parents?’

  ‘It does.’ All he knew was that they died on a mission for King Sastin when Karl was fifty sunsets old. ‘I saw a sketching of them once, but somebody who couldn’t draw did it and they both looked like hairy circles with eyes.’

  Questions smiled. ‘Do you miss them?’

  Karl nodded. ‘It’s strange. I didn’t think you could miss people you’ve never met, but I do.’ He sighed and gazed at Sabrinia. While he felt sorry for her, he longed for the bond she was able to enjoy with her father.

  ‘Why do you think people get sad?’ Questions asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He wished he did.

  ‘Is sadness an invisible monster?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Is it in clouds?’