Egrariand Chronicles Book 1: The Curse of the Black Stone

The Dagger and a Girl

It was in the middle of the night when Lucas jumped off his bed as he heard a loud noise coming from the kitchen. He heard the faint sound of footsteps outside his room as if someone was lurking around, which would be impossible since they had left him alone in that cold, lonely house. The Millers had gone for a winter vacation around Myrtle Beach in South Carolina and hadn’t bothered to leave him with someone looking after him. No one would know anyway.

Cold sweat dripped down his neck as he went to investigate the strange sounds from downstairs. He reached for the doorknob with a trembling hand and opened the door of his room adjacent to the kitchen. He saw large pans and plates all over the floor with shards of broken glass strewn about.

"Who's there?" called Lucas, heart pounding in his chest as he grabbed the broom and held it tight. It was the nearest thing he could grab to protect himself from whoever it was. He saw no one. He crept to the living room, using every ounce of courage he had. Lucas repeated a silent mantra to calm his nerves. It's nothing. It's nothing.

"Helllloooo!" he called again. "Anybody here? I'm not afraid of you! Show yourself!"

Still, no one responded. He went upstairs to see if there was someone there, but again, no one. It might have just been a cat. And besides, if there was somebody there, it would disappoint them. There was nothing valuable in the house anyway after his aunt and uncle took everything and fled off to their extravagant vacation. He went back to his room, relieved he found no one lurking in the shadows. He tried to go back to sleep and brushed everything from his mind.

Lucas had a dream. 

He saw his mother in the kitchen, smiling at him as she prepared his favorite food. He smelled bacon all over the place and it made him drool. How long had it been since he had a nice breakfast compared to what his Aunt Greta gave him every single day – toasted bread as hard as stone and just water, no milk. He heard his mother called him for breakfast, “Lucas… Lucas…”

"Mom…" he responded as he opened his eyes.

Lucas stared at the ceiling as he realized that he was still on the bed. He was now awake. He was alone, his mother was not there, and no one was cooking bacon—wait a minute. Huh? He smelled fried meat. He was not dreaming. Someone was cooking!

Lucas rushed into the kitchen and froze.

"W-who are you? H-how… how…?" He stood in stunned silence, mesmerized with the young lady standing before him, wearing a black silk dress.

She had a radiant beauty with stylish, full curly black hair flowing down to her chest, skin as smooth as pearl and white as ivory. She was as tall as a supermodel, like a goddess, a gift from above, and could captivate anyone's heart. "H-how… d-did…y—" He couldn't compose even one straight sentence.

The young lady smiled and stared at him. Her eyes had a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in soft swooping arcs. "I am glad you are awake," she said, excited. "Come sit here. Your breakfast is getting cold."

Lucas cleared his throat and spoke, stammering. "I-I don't know how you got in here. But… who are you? And d-do you know who I am?"

She chuckled. "I am Amara! You are my master!" she exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she knew Lucas so well.

Her words stirred Lucas from his spell. Master? "I'm… you're what?!"

"You are my master, Lucas!" she said, grinning. "And I am here to serve you."

"Oh! No-no-no!" Lucas shook his head, waving his hand. "I don't know who you are, Miss. Maybe you're lost, or whatever. I'm no master of anybody."
"Maybe you are confused."