Southland: the Silent Dead

Book Five in the Sennovia Universe — Coming Soon

Kyrian woke with a start, and sat up.

Disorientated.

He lifted a hand to his face and found his eye was healed, the swelling gone, and that he could see clearly again. He blinked as he realized that even the pain in his left side had vanished, and he looked down at himself. He was covered in dried blood, his leathers torn. He was also missing one boot.

He glanced around; his confusion growing, as the muffled sounds of voices, and laughter could be heard somewhere behind him. At present, he was in a room—alone. A clean room, lying on top of a soft bed, and opposite him where long glass doors and they were open, letting in a warm breeze.

He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten here. He did not even know where here was. Slowly, he swung his legs to the side of the bed and touched his feet to the floor. It was wooden and polished with a few scatter rugs over near the glass doors and side table. The feel of the room was calming, and he inhaled, letting the peace infusing the atmosphere soothe his anxiety.

Then the side door banged open and he jumped, not knowing what to expect. Only Breharlia rushed into the room, and Kyrian felt his world crumble. Substantially. All the stress and fear he had been unconsciously holding so tightly in, burst free and he exhaled with a moan—a forceful emotion that came from deep within his chest. Part relief, part shock and part grief.

“Ky!” Breharlia called as she went to him and embraced him, sitting on the bed beside him and pulling him into her arms. “Oh, Ky,” she whispered into his hair, her fingers comforting him as she touched his face, traced his tears before she gathered him ever closer into her warmth.

He sobbed. He could not help it. His mind was so bruised and confused. So much had happened, that his system was in overload, and he knotted his fingers in her coat, holding her like she was his last hope for sanity.

“It’s okay, Ky,” she whispered again, kissing his hair, letting him cry.

He could sense her on multiple levels. Her voice, her smell, her touch and most importantly—her aura that whispered to him, that wrapped him in an embrace of love. With effort he regathered his shattered control and gently pushed her away, sniffing, before he lifted his eyes to drink in her concerned gaze.

“I thought I had lost you,” he said, the words so soft, so full of remembered anguish.

She shook her head as she let her fingers trace his tear tracks a second time. “No, it was me who thought you were lost forever.”

He swallowed, and pulled back a little more. Never before had he cried like that. Or been so scared. He took her hands and linked their fingers, before trying for a reassuring half-smile as he wished his tears away. He saw her respond, as she leaned closer before she gently kissed him on the lips. It was chaste, but it helped reset his emotions.

“What happened,” he asked calmer.

“You almost died,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. “If it hadn’t been for Sasheer.”

He waited, poised, as a vague memory hung just out of reach in his mind. A man, with striking blue eyes, had . . . had embraced his face . . . then—he shook the fractured memory away, and settled his gaze again on Breharlia.

“They brought you here to the Healers,” she finished.

“And where is here?” Then another thought hit him and he tensed, his eyes widening in sudden fear. “Lorne—”

“Is fine,” she added quickly, keeping a firm hold on him. “We are all fine,” she repeated with conviction, forcing him to believe.

He exhaled, his mind starting to function again. “So, where are we?”

“Freedom City,” she answered, still studying him.

“I don’t remember much of anything.”

“I’m not surprised. As they took you out first.”

He remembered being hit . . . then waking in a cavern . . . and meeting—“Dalzere.”

She grinned. It was an uncomplicated and happy smile. “That’s how we found you,” she said with heavy emphasis.

It was all very bewildering, and he untangled their hands and rubbed his face, then looked at his hands. His nails were torn, his skin stained and filthy . . . yet, she was a picture of clean freshness. “What happened?” He asked, really needing to know, to fill in the gaps in his memory.

“I didn’t see you fall, but Blane told me later you had been deliberately targeted and taken out,” she started as she sat back a little, a frown marring her pretty face as she remembered. “It all happened so fast. One guard grabbed me, then Blane was there,” she sighed, her frown increasing, before she looked at Kyrian in a mix of horror and fright. “He literally picked me up and threw me overboard,” she said, her eyes widening as she remembered the fear. “But I can’t swim, so I thought I was going to drown. And then,” she took a breath, “then, before I knew it, he was by my side, taking us both to the shoreline.”

Blane . . . and Kyrian considered that. He would have to thank the other man later.

“We sat there. I was in shock, but Blane was furious and he was about to swim back to the barge when Challa threw Lorne into the river. It was obvious Lorne couldn’t swim either, so Blane swam back out and rescued him. Then something exploded on the barge, I don’t know what—but suddenly both Sun Elves were jumping to safety, along with everyone else on board. There was a bit of a tussle in the water as the barge burned, with the hijackers trying to escape, but eventually everything calmed down. Then Chella and Criz reached the shore further up the river and they had dragged a number of frightened sailors with them. Including the captain.”

He absorbed that, glad Blane and the Elves had been thinking clearly. “After that?”

“Blane acquired a smaller boat, and we all followed the burning barge. By the time we arrived near the docks of Freedom City, the Guard inside the city were already engaged in the fighting. The King sent his Imperial Guard out as well, and within a short time all the attacking soldiers were either detained, or killed. We were safe, except you were missing.”

He felt her distress via the energy currents, and he reached up to cup her face, wiping her tears aside with his thumb. “I’m glad Blane was there to save you and Lorne.”

She hiccupped on a breath, then gave a small nod.

“But, why did they take me?” Kyrian asked, more to himself, as he started to frown.

Breharlia gave a dainty shrug. “Chella thinks they believed you were the Keep messenger. That they took you to interrogate you.”

It made a weird kind of sense, he supposed. Lord Karczag had warned that this could be a dangerous assignment. “So how’d you find me?”

“We didn’t,” she said, as she reached over and embraced his hands a second time, her smile apologetic. “I’m sorry. We failed you.”

“Never,” he whispered.

“At the city gates, Chella ran into someone by the name of Sasheer. He was heading west, out of the city and both Elves went with him. I didn’t know why at first. So, I went and found Lorne. No one knew what was going on, so Blane escorted us here.” She shrugged. “Then late last night Chella and Criz returned, and they said you’d been found. I tried to see you, but the Healers refused to let us in the room. Until this morning. You’ve been sleeping since.”

Kyrian took that in, remembering vaguely seeing both White Elves before he had passed out. “I remember little.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Breharlia corrected. “Criz tells me that if it hadn’t been for Sasheer, you would’ve died.” She then took a breath and graced him with a smaller smile. “I was getting worried that you’d never wake.”

He returned her smile, realizing now why all his aches and pains had gone. He knew about Healers, had seen them in Sanctuary, but had never used one before. Normally all his injuries just healed naturally. Healing with a Gift was a different type of healing experience. He was aware, on the edge of his mind, that he had been gravely wounded, but his body now felt whole. He looked down at himself. “I’m filthy.”

“Yes,” she wrinkled her nose at him.

He saw the gesture and had to laugh. Her reaction was so normal, that he found it centered all his thoughts. “I need a wash.”

Breharlia stood and pointed to the table over by the long glass doors. “There’s water, and fresh clothing. You want a hand to strip?”

It was naughty, and he grinned, amazed that he could look at her and not be tempted. But she was a picture of pure seduction in that moment. “Leave me, you little flirt,” he said as he grinned.

She sighed, pretending to look wounded, before bestowing one final kiss on his lips, then left the room with a laugh, closing the door.

Left alone, Kyrian heeled off his solitary boot and stripped, heading over to the bowl by the doors. Some of his questions had been answered, but he still had many more. Like—who was this Sasheer?

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Southland: the Silent Dead — Book Five in the Sennovia Universe — is coming soon.

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© 2026 TS Clayton. All rights reserved. This content is original and contains no AI-generated material.