Gemstone Lexicon

Originally, this was going to be more of a simple mineral index but turned into what you see below. In essence, Ardans have different names than we have for their precious and semi-precious stone. Using cut and dry definitions, I then added a ‘real-world’ analog to give an idea of what we would call it here on Earth. Whether I include the lexicon going into the third book and beyond, and/or possibly expand it, is up in the air. I figure, should someone have the first or second book, they could easily flip back to the previous books, find the stone in question and be good.      

As an aside, What might command a higher value, or be considered of less value on Earth, is not necessarily true on Ardis. 

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Gemstone Lexicon

Avideriil: An incredibly rare and highly prized gemstone of the Silicon Carbide variety. Real world analog: Moissanite 

Bineel: is a metastable allotrope of carbon, where the carbon atoms are arranged in a variation of the face-centered cubic crystal structure. Real world analog: Colorless Diamond

Dathorite: A gemstone variety of the mineral corundum, an aluminum oxide with trace amounts of vanadium. The color ranges from light to deep purple, the latter of which commands the highest value. Real world analog: Purple Sapphire

Dorreth: A hard object produced within the mantle of a shelled mollusk, composed primarily of calcium carbonate. Relatively spheroid, they can be round, semi-round, button, drop, pear, oval, baroque, circled and double bouldered. They come in several colors with black being the rarest and considered highly prized. Real world analog: Pearl

Ederim: a microcrystalline variety of silica, chiefly chalcedony, characterized by its fineness of grain and brightness of color. Colors can range from white to grey, light blue to dark green, yellow, orange to red and purple to black and is predominantly banded. Real world analog: Agate   

Edrasil: A feldspar mineral, found in igneous rocks, such as basalt, gabbro, and norite. It exhibits a strong play of iridescent blue, green, red, orange, and yellow colors. Specimens of the highest quality are known for their vivid displays of color. Real world analog: Labradorite 

Ilthidim: A gemstone variety of beryl with colors ranging from pure yellow to golden yellow. Real world analog: Heliodor 

Kyanite: A gemstone variety of orange beryl, with colors ranging from pale to dark orange. Real world analog: A variety of Golden Beryl.

Lightning Stone: A hydrated amorphous form of silica only found on the Island of Navinas. Black in appearance, it has a resinous luster akin to blue fire. Real world analog: Black/Lightning Opal.

Nerdravel: A gemstone variety of red beryl, with colors ranging from pink to scarlet. Real world analog: Red/Scarlet Emerald

Nersite: A gemstone variety of corundum, whose colors range from pink to blood-red. Real world analog: Ruby  

Pal’ástrine: a deep blue metamorphic rock used as a semi-precious stone prized for its intense color. Real world analog: Lapis Lazuli

Pallexite: A gemstone variety of the mineral corundum whose colors range from crystal to midnight blue and highly prized for its asterisms. Real world analog: Sapphire

Pallgramite: A gemstone variety of beryl, light bluish-green to blue. Real world analog: Aquamarine

Pallsiret: A mineral of the copper variety, deep blue to violet-blue in color. Is in limited use as a gemstone as it can easily weather to Vemelel. Real world analog: Azurite 

Seredem: An aluminum silicate that contains fluorine and hydroxyl and used as a gemstone and comes in blue, green, yellow, orange, red, pink, and purple. Reddish-gold or Imperial Seredem, commands higher prices than the other colors. Real world analog: Topaz

Shorasnim: A hydrated amorphous form of silica, which can range in the following colors: white, gray, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, magenta, rose, pink, slate, olive, brown, and black. Real world analog: Opal

Telleel: A black, metastable allotrope of carbon. Real world analog: Black Diamond

Telthramin:  Volcanic glass created when felsic lava cools rapidly. Real world analog: Obsidian

Telshir: A black variety of the mineral, chalcedony. It can be black, white, or banded. Real world analog: Onyx

Togrim: A gemstone variety of Olivine, primarily olive green in color, but can range from yellow to brownish-green. Real world analog: Peridot. 

Togurad: A gemstone variety of green beryl, whose colors range from light to dark green, often possessing fine inclusions within the stone. Real world analog: Emerald   

Thamalos: A violet semiprecious variety of quartz.  Its colors and hues range from a light pinkish violet to a deep purple, and exhibit one or both secondary hues of red and blue. Real world analog: Amethyst 

Vadador: A gemstone variant of the metastable allotrope of carbon whose colors range from pale to dark red and every hue in between. Real world analog: Red Diamond.

Vemelel: A banded copper mineral ranging in color from pastel green, to a bright green, to an extremely dark green that is almost black. It exhibits banding similar to Ederim. Real world analog: Malachite

Venekel: A feldspar mineral, ethereal in appearance that displays a billowy, ghost-like reflection with a bluish-whitish color emanating from the surface, similar to that of Dorasnim. Real world analog: Moonstone 

Zophrite: Fossilized tree resin, which can range from yellow-orange-brown, to whitish color through a pale lemon yellow, to brown and almost black. Other, less common colors include red, green, and blue, of which are highly prized. Real world analog: Amber 

Months of the Year...

This was going to be something of a surprise found in Book II. Instead, after much questioning, I decided to release it. As you can see below, Ardis has 14 months, of which are derived from three of the oldest extant languages found on the planet. Whether by happenstance or otherwise, their months contains 4 weeks and 30 days; no month has more or less than the other.

It had also been asked if Ardis’s days had names. The ultimate answer was no, as I had set down that bit of continuity in Book I. Also, the meaning of each month has its origin in the language it comes from. Some of the meaning are obscure as they are rooted in invariably ancient languages, other meanings speak for themselves, particularly that of the first and last month.  

Months             Meanings             Language Origin         

1. Dabhren                    Renewal                       Navinan

2. Ionwis                       Shaping                        Navinan

3. Tol                            Altering                         Athallic

4. Eiard                         Greening                      Navinan

5. Kemmerest               Flowing                         Athallic

6. Saligh                        Rooted                         Navinan

7. Teimrin                      Pathway                       Navinan

8. Jocash                      Directed                        Athallic

9. Morred                      Journeying                    Athallic

10. Aneil                        Purifying                       Datheren

11. Wynras                    Reflecting                     Navinan

12. Ganmelim                Calming                       Athallic

13. Fesheth                   Quietude                      Navinan                       

14. Pavrenisis                Remembrance             Datheren

Working Prologue for Book Three

At the beginning of the week I uploaded the revised prologue for Book One, of which the original version has already been published. During the middle of the week I submitted the prologue to Book Two, of which it and the revised version of Book One has been submitted for publication. Below is the working prologue currently in progress.

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Prologue

Shadrid Alsadri turned his gaze toward the tranquil sea in reflection…
 
In the mid-morning light, the red and orange-hued moons of their homeworld reflected resplendently off the water as they went about their uninterrupted journey across the sky. Being so close to the planet, it was always possible to catch sight of one or more volcanic eruptions that marred the Red Daughter, even during the brightest of days. Such dynamic eruptions whether glimpsed day or night stood as a symbol for change, a concept understood intimately by every culture that inhabited Ardis. Though the Orange Daughter was ever still and quiescent, she was believed to undergo a similar process, albeit beneath the surface. Nersis, the inner moon, represented outward change; Kesis, the outer moon, signified the change from within. Incorporated into numerous stories around the world, the dichotomous pair stood as a lesson on how to face adversity and ultimately overcoming it through change.
            Change. The old alchemist pursed his lips slightly, exhaled deeply, and allowed his thoughts to shift toward that issue at hand…
            For over thirteen thousand years, the twin empires of Navinas and Dathere coexisted peacefully beside one another to the far east. Both of them ancient and equally powerful, they boasted the finest of military forces and prestigious family dynasties that could be traced back for millennia on end. And being the finest centers for education, art, trade, and commerce they were unrivaled by anyone except each other. Leaders around the world, including the Fer’shaths of Dielberen, balked at the mere suggestion of a military invasion; drawing their ire invited death. But a decade ago, the crown heir of the Datheren Empire married the eldest daughter of Breidhas and Fásach, the Emperor and Empress of the Navinan Empire. This act unified their empires under a single banner… Sinseran. What rumored uprisings that occurred mercilessly quashed by the rulers themselves… the same ones that sent the request for an audience with him.
            Almost immediately the amber-eyed alchemist decided that this auspicious letter was not to be taken lightly. With much deliberation with the sect leaders within his guild and the blessings of Fer’shath Urdapesh who supplied him with ample gifts and a sizeable security escort, he made his way to the port city of Kamilest. Once they arrived, a fleet of ships would meet and escort them to Palestris, the capital city of Sinsera. Once there, he would speak with these potentates. Whatever matter that needed the attention of the Head of the Alchemist Guild of Dielberen, must’ve been of considerable importance, and he would treat it as such. Regardless, time would tell very soon…  
            There was also the matter of a formal petition which was brought before the Fer’shath in Manafre, of which was to him in the utmost secrecy….
            The past five decades had seen a rise in new technology originating from the Kingdom of Athallis. Even after it had been rechristened the Principality of Cestrin this continued. The transition from older, traditional methods, into more innovative manufacturing processes to improve and enhance efficiency had spread across the planet like wildfire. With this industrial revolution came other things, namely advancement in the sciences, along with a much better understanding of their world. One such science that had arisen from this appeared to parallel perfectly with alchemy. Some of his colleagues regarded it as ‘alchemy for the ungifted.’ As they and others had more derogatory terms for it, not suitable for public discourse, this relatively neutral term seemed fitting.
           “Ship coming to port!”
           Shadrid looked up in time to catch sight of a large and sturdy vessel slowing its approach toward the cement-constructed dock. As personnel prepared for the next voyage he returned to his thoughts once more…
            There was a combination of twelve councilors and nobles who had penned their names upon that document. At least half of them held considerable sway throughout the empire. As it was, he who had the final say on the matter, the Fer’shath had considered the option of ordering arrests for all of them out of loyalty to the alchemists. However, due to its sensitive nature, he brought the matter to him.
            “Tasaqir Alsadri,” a voice intoned reverently upon approach. “The Captain has asked me to inform you that we should be departing for Palestris within the hour.”
            “That is good to hear.” The amber-eyed alchemist looked to the Sea of Firdigan. “The waters are calm; we should expect good sailing there.”
            “Yes, we should.” The messenger nodded and grinned. “And should there be storms to darken our journey, Tasaqir, I do not doubt that you’ll have little trouble in calming them.”
            Nodding warmly, Shadrid cast a glance toward the messenger who went on his way to help with the loading. Musing once more on the document which had been shown to him, he pursed his lips. Before departing Manafre, he not only gave his approval but also his blessing for this new guild to be formed. Passing a hand over the mustache and goatee framed neatly on his face, he suspected the ungifted would never know, much less understand why he did this. But that didn’t matter. He was looking forward to seeing what they could do, and of course, what lay ahead for both of their guilds in the centuries to come…

Prologue to Book Two

Not counting downtime, Book Two had taken me at most 8 months to complete. Part of this lay in the form of a young/budding editor who offered his services as I wrote. I sent him chapters, he edited and sent them back. Of course, I looked over everything, even went back, expanded, and polished places that needed it done. In others, thanks to Beta Reading, I went back and touched upon certain spots that really needed it.

Overall,  I’m happy with what I accomplished. Book One was, as one reader said, a sand box. I was essentially building a world, probably went a little to heavy in some places, but it was done! Hopefully by the end of the week, I’ll be posting the working prologue of Book Three. Meanwhile, I give you the teaser to Book Two!

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Prologue

            Eyes opened, and the dance began…     

Around a raised dais of obsidian at the heart of a temple complex, a honey-eyed shaman traced her graceful, spiraling path. Each step and trance-like movement illuminated the interior with ghostly wisps of pearlescent light. Her hearts ached briefly, glancing toward the figure laid still on the mirrored surface of the dais. Once more, she repeated to herself that it didn’t have to come to this. Once more, she insisted, that there had to have been a better way. But then, it was indecision—namely hers—which had led to this moment. The shining lands of Tav-Shuaa would never return to their former splendor. Its glistening cities and rich culture were at an end…

            A great torrent of power surged up from deep within, suffusing itself throughout her entire being. In moments, her eyes ignited in an ethereal inner light. The appearance of the eternal fire of creation signaled the blessings of the Great Elders, hallowing this place with divine purpose. Coalescing swiftly into a brilliant aura of white flame, she was almost mystified by how natural it felt. This burning, consuming, primal radiance was as much a part of her as she was of it. She could not, would not, fail in her duties, this time.

            Words of intent resonated across all levels of reality in a rhythmic chant. In response, the aura undulated for several seconds and then swiftly swept outward, enveloping the room in its awing radiance. In its wake were formed a patterned series of angular lines, wedges, and small circles, splintering off from multiple points in varying degrees across the walls, floor, columns, and ceiling. Alphanumerics shaped into equations, their manifestation represented her knowledge and understanding of the world and its relationship to places seen and unseen. Through them, she sought to enact a feat never attempted in the history of her people. It wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic as the battle fought several hours ago, but, she reckoned, it might be told for ages to come. 

            The unconscious figure ignited in a golden haze and began to levitate. The aura’s radiance steadily grew stronger and brighter…

            What the shaman had not imagined were others like her—like them—hailing from lands, known and unknown, drawn by their very nature to the conflict at hand. The first among them was a stocky, fair-skinned warlord from the northern expanse. Regardless of their stature, he tore through his foes with unparalleled ease. From the bountiful domain of Grova-Ne came the daughter of a famed metallurgist; the unassuming appearance belied the ferocity behind her surprising prowess. A dark-skinned monk, swift and sure, appeared from the Painted Lands, and from the Mountain of the Hallowed Fathers came a high priestess of the sky goddess, Taias the Eternal. Together they worked to halt the devastation from spreading any further, allowing her to face the greatest challenge uninterrupted…

            Words continued to pour from her lips, the echoing chant swelling to a fever pitch, her glow surpassing the brightest stars in the sky….

It was the metallurgist’s daughter that had suggested this remote place, one of many the fiery-haired female has visited in her wanderlust. For the raven-haired shaman, the blistering cold would have been unbearable had she been unable to wrap the warmth of her homeland around her like an invisible blanket. Still, it was very far away from anyone or anything that could remotely disturb this moment… at least directly…

            The unconscious figure was enveloped in an intense torrent of light as the shaman rounded the dais a final time, her thoughts and words transcending time and space. But in the ticks between the moments, as she bridged the whole of reality, a cold breeze ushered its way into the room. Startled, the shaman’s gaze flickered to the fluttering eyes of the unconscious figure; the land gently quaking in response. Creation’s light dimmed as she felt numerous tugs; someone was attempting to undo her ritual.

            “I… I will not be… contained,” the figured uttered softly.

            “You… you must… for the sake of us all… you must…” plead the shaman.

            Dust fell from the ceiling as the quaking intensified. Mentally melding with the land, she could feel old scars reviving, existing ones growing larger, and new ones beginning to form. Breathing deeply, she steeled herself and resumed the chant, biting back the unrelenting pain beginning to course through her veins. Primal energies returned in full force, their sheer intensity slowly engulfing and transforming her body to ash. Gradually becoming little more than a living consciousness, she ignored the overwhelming pain and focused unwaveringly on her task. Pooling her titanic strength into a singular purpose, the honey-eyed shaman lifted her eyes to the unseen heavens and surrendered herself to creation’s glory.

            “I’m so sorry…” she whispered.

           

            Everything went cold… dark… quiet… 

Revised Prologue to Book One

Around December 2016, I had my first book published. Unfortunately, due to certain errors scattered throughout, I felt it needed to be redeemed. The first error was that I had used Word 2007, which was 6-8 years old at the time it was written and completed as I couldn’t afford the latest edition of MS Office. After acquiring Word 2016 and finally Grammarly, I set out on a year-long task of correcting every mistake I could find. I was exacting to a fault, though freely admit something was probably missed, and if so will stay.

Below is a sample from the revised version in the form of the prologue. If you wish to read the original, you can find it in paperback and pdf in the first link, or on Kindle in the second.

1. http://www.rpgnow.com/product/199115/The-Chronicles-of-Ardis-Concordance

2. https://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Ardis-Book-Concordance-ebook/dp/B075WMWW6W/ref=tmm_other_meta_binding_title_sr?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1506971474&sr=8-1

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Prologue

He ran.

Keeping close to the shadows the auburn-haired youth traced a maddening path toward the river. Once crossed, everything would be fine. However, those shores were filled with ancient ruins and littered with dilapidated statues, all steeped in sinister stories. Few dared to visit unless they were adventurous, reckless, or desperate. Being the lattermost, he believed it was the only place where no one in their right mind would follow. Once there and safe he could attend to more pressing concerns; the gash on his cheek whose blood had long dried, and the burns across portions of his jaw, torso, and back. For now, he forced himself to ignore those deep, throbbing, stinging sensations threatening to drive him insane and keep going.

            Panting, he’d forgotten how long he’d been running; adrenaline was the only thing edging him ever onward to his destination. There was only a sequence of events playing out in his mind, beginning with a joyous occasion. He and his wife had come to see her father, King Orden, with news of a child expected in the coming months. That feeling of joy and celebration was transformed into fear and chaos with news of rebels attacking the keep. It was funny, he mused, the young prince hadn’t heard of any dissidence within his father-in-law’s kingdom, much less the possibility of conflict or even war…               

            The door burst open, the guards protecting it slain. The half-naked youth barely had time to retrieve his trousers, much less find his sword. Fierce green eyes glimpsed two swordsmen, an archer readying a bow, and a fourth sinking back into the shadows.

            Despite his shortcomings with a blade, all apprehension faded. Charged at with unexpected ferocity, the first attacker was knocked unconscious with the pommel. After a series of thrusts, parries, and jabs, the second attacker was cut down, leaving the archer letting loose his arrow. The prince leaped into its path; a second faster and it would have struck him… instead of her. A gasp escaped her lips; eyes of ocean blue cast a downward glance toward the arrow lodged deep in her chest and then to her husband rushing toward her as she sunk to the floor. Holding her tight, he repeatedly insisted everything would be alright. When she went limp in his arms, grief transformed to rage.

            Turning toward the archer knocking back another arrow, he reached out with his left hand and drew it violently into a fist. The arrow was let loose, but not before the archer dropped to his knees screaming in indescribable agony. Every nerve fiber of his being was hyperstimulated, inflaming every portion of his body. The sailing arrow grazed the prince’s cheek; a small price in exchange for the suffering he gladly inflicted upon this murderer. Writhing uncontrollably on the floor the archer continued to scream in pain, even begging for mercy. Green eyes lit with fervent hatred heightened it further and ceased abruptly, catching sight of the fourth figure previously hidden in the shadows…     

            The room was engulfed in an intense white-hot brightness, blinding to behold. He brought his arms up to shield his face and turned away. It was now his turn to scream…

            By happenstance a compartment had been found beneath the bed, allowing him to slip away before anyone else arrived. Exiting in the courtyard, he used the ongoing chaos to slip away; once clear of the area, he began an all-out run for his life. The prince knew they would enter the room and find their archer and sorcerer little more than vegetables. A search would then expand to the castle itself and finally the release of the hounds; a risk he had to take. Truthfully his scent wasn’t difficult to discern; one only had to follow the smell of fresh blood and charred flesh through the woods. Periodically the youth slowed down, but the sounds of footsteps and howls over the beating of his hearts in his ears forced him to pick up the pace once more.

            Coming to the water’s edge he paused in preparation to dive; the sounds of growling changed things. Swallowing slowly, he heard additional footsteps and growling; fear and desperation faded into determination. A soft lyrical chant began. Eyes narrowed, upper lip slightly upturned, and flaring nostrils, he turned slowly toward the pack. Unwavering, it grew steadily louder and then faded into nothingness as he faced them, his hands cupping his mouth. Watching the five hounds stalk closer, observing him for the smallest movement to exploit, he quietly inhaled a lung full of air, paused as they drew nearer, and then exhaled…

            Cupped hands opened in a shouting fashion, releasing a swarm of fireflies that poured freely from his mouth and flew toward the hounds. Confused, their attention shifted toward sickly pulses of green and yellow until they were mesmerized. After a few seconds, there was a yip, followed by another, and then another until they were all yipping. Yipping gave way to growling and then whimpering. Duty gave way to instinct; upon bolting, away they were immediately enveloped by the insects. Howls of anguish echoed for several seconds and then silenced as they were wholly devoured leaving no trace of their existence.

            With their meal finished, the swarm came together, sped back toward their creator and encircled him in a pulsing ring of yellow-green light before fading into the ether. With that, he, in turn, fell into the cool embrace of the river below.

            Ignoring the chill, he sunk deep into the water, letting it wash over the cuts and burns on his worn body. The adrenaline had slowly begun to subside. Crawling onto the bank, he stood up and stumbled forward into the nearby foliage, falling on his knees out of exhaustion. Tears that had begun when he held his dying wife returned in full force and he cried harder than he’d ever done in his life.

            "I say, that was truly a most impressive display back there…"

            Swallowing them back, his head darted up and around attempting to locate the source of the voice. Meanwhile, he began to recall the stories; some returned from this place ‘changed’ or ‘altered,’ becoming totally mad. The worst was reduced to little more than incoherent babbling, scrawling incomprehensible patterns on the walls in their own blood. Others… didn’t come back at all…

            "You have nothing to fear from me… come closer… to the well… yes… closer now…"

            The verdant eyed prince was unsure why he was trying to locate its origin, or for that matter whom that voice belonged to, only that he felt drawn to it. The words echoed deeply in his thoughts, more felt and sensed than heard. Trekking further into a forest lit only by the light of two moons, he came upon a clearing and the remnants of a temple. Great marble columns lay in various stages of disarray and neglect around him. Some had toppled, creating copious amounts of rubble; others stood silently as a testament to a forgotten time. However, there was a singular commonality: a series of unfamiliar flowing runes richly etched upon their surfaces in combinations of spiraling lines ascending and descending across their surfaces. He could almost swear they were glowing…

            "There you are. Very few come to this place anymore."

            In the center of the complex was a well of black granite covered in the same flowing runes found on the pillars. Within it was water suffused with a milky glow of azure, crimson, and violet, imparting an opalescent quality to it.

            “Who are you?”

            "Who are you?"

            He opened his mouth and only silence came forth. The memories resurfaced, and the auburn-haired youth turned his face away in shame as evident as the burns on his body.

            “I’m… I’m a prince who failed to protect his own wife, save his own father-in-law… who could do nothing to help… who was a failure? She died…” He looked back toward the well. “She died in my arms and I could do nothing to save her…”

            "I see… and what now young Prince?"

            “I have to recover what was taken. I could easily get help and drive those murderers from this land. The campaign could take years, but it could be done.”

            “And once this is accomplished, this land will be yours to rule, correct?”

            “It… it will…”

          “And what of others seeking to usurp you? You live in an uncertain world; your ordeal is but one of many examples. Bandits become kings, kings become paupers, borders wax and wane and threats increase or decrease. That is the cycle of things.”

            “Cycles can be broken, surely!” He insisted.   

            “They can if you want them to be.” The voice returned.

            Twin pools of brilliant green gazed circumspectly back at the well, hands brushing the auburn strands still lingering before his eyes as he listened. The honey intonated words filling his ears caused him to regard the well with more caution than before.

            “What do you want?”

            “What do I want?” The voice returned curiously. “I suppose all things have a price. You see, I have dwelt on your world for a very long time. I watched as your race rose into being, establishing the first cities, governments, and territories. I have witnessed countless cycles of peace, war, and uncertainty. The cost is a simple one young prince: freedom. Free me, and you will have everything you ask for. But first I must know what you want.”

            “What do I want!?” He almost shouted. “I… I want the strength and endurance to restore and protect this land from any possible threats! I… I want the resilience and wherewithal to accomplish this challenge, and the resolve to face any further danger, no matter how great, with unrivaled tenacity! Could you truly grant me all of this?”

"Yes."

            He swallowed, his hearts pounding loudly in his chest. The answer was given so easily. 

            “And what assurance do I have that you will keep your word? How do I know I’m not unleashing great and terrible darkness upon my world? How can I trust you?”

“Touch the water and know my words are true…”

            He swallowed once more, regarding the well with fear and uncertainty. Approaching its edge, the prince studied the runes etched upon its surface and finally the water itself. Again, the sounds and images of the evening returned to the fore. He could hear shouts for reinforcements, the attackers breaking down the door, and amidst all of that, his beautiful wife. He saw her falling to the floor, him reaching out and taking her hand, and assuring her that everything would be alright until the light had left her eyes. And throughout all this, the prince realized the worst of it; he’d never know the child that they were bringing into the world…

           

            The verdant orbed youth plunged his left hand into the water and let out a primal scream. His body was swiftly suffused with the incredible and terrifying light of the well…