Rebellion Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Rebellion

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  “We are each our own evil,

  ISAAC

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  DEVIN

  X

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  ISAAC

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  XVIII

  XIX

  XX

  Rebellion

  By J.D.Netto

  Copyright 2014 by J.D.Netto

  Cover Copyright 2014 by Untreed Reads Publishing

  Cover Design by J.D.Netto, JD Netto Designs

  The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, dialogue and events in this book are wholly fictional, and any resemblance to companies and actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  Also by J.D. Netto and Untreed Reads Publishing

  The Whispers of the Fallen

  http://www.untreedreads.com

  Rebellion

  J.D.Netto

  dedicated to those who are not afraid

  to fight for their dreams

  God, any talent that I possess was given to me by you.

  I am forever grateful.

  It would have been impossible to finish another novel without the support of my friends and family.

  Mom, Deborah, Carlos, and Dad, thank you for always believing in me. Your support has been an anchor to me during times of confusion and doubt.

  I started writing this novel on a flight to Denver, Colorado on January 15th, 2013. As I typed the first chapter, I was sitting next to some of the people I love the most in this world.

  Henrique and Maile Siqueira, thank you for always believing and for always listening. I love you.

  Marcos and Mariana Debossan, Joel and Hannah Lemes, Katharine Siqueira, Filipe Catarcione and Mariana Novaes; the laughter, the jokes and the countless hours we spent together helped shape many of the characters in this novel.

  I will never tell you which ones!

  Ronaldo and Jaise Alves, thank you for your friendship. It must be a terrible burden to bear being friends with me for over twenty years!

  Fernanda and Gleison, thank you for always believing in my potential.

  Your friendship is precious to me.

  Flavia Duddey, this is another opportunity for us to look back on the days we used to daydream together and see one of those dreams completed. You are awesome.

  “Though our dreams may have one thousand reasons to fail, believe in the one reason why they should succeed.”

  Thank you, Cristiano Piquet. These words will be carried with me for the rest of my life.

  Sasha Alsberg, words fall short to describe how thankful I am for your love and passion for this series. You have helped these books reach so many different readers.

  I am forever in your debt.

  Jay Hartman and the Untreed Reads team, you have taken amazing care of the world I created. Your efforts are appreciated more than you will ever know.

  I honestly believe that my fans, the Army of the Fallen, are the most devoted, passionate, crazy and creative people in this world. Thank you for all the tweets, Facebook posts, Instagram pictures, drawings and fan accounts. I wish I could hug each and every one of you. You inspire me every day!

  “We are each our own evil,

  And we make this world Our Hell.”

  Oscar Wilde

  ISAAC

  I

  Darkness—that was all I could see. I looked down, trying to catch a glimpse of my feet as they trampled upon the unseen ground.

  An invisible force pulled me while I listened to the sound of many voices. It was bitter cold; my fingertips grew numb with every step I took. It was quiet here—too quiet. My heartbeat sounded like drums softly played by weak hands.

  Something lay in the darkness ahead of me. My eyes squinted in an attempt to better visualize the unrecognizable. My breathing failed once I realized it was her—it was Nephele.

  Emotions stirred within me; rage shadowed my mind as I approached her body.

  She attempted to stand to her feet, feebly moving her arms. It was apparent that an invisible power pinned her down. My wings made their way out of my back as rage continued to take over. I grasped my sword, marching in her direction.

  I knelt next to her. Our eyes met.

  Without hesitating, I pierced her left hand; blood flowed like a waterfall. Her body trembled as she opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came forth.

  You deserve to die, I thought, standing back on my feet. The memories of all the pain she had caused me played over in my head. I placed my right foot on her skull, pressing it against the ground.

  I sank my sword into her chest. I was clueless of my whereabouts, but happy to know that my mortal enemy lay here, defenseless.

  The sound of her slowing heartbeat invaded my ears. I lifted my foot from her head, kneeling next to her once again.

  “You see,” I whispered in her ear. “Even with all of your dark powers, Nephele, in the end, you will never win.”

  “How are you feeling?” I heard a faint male voice say. The image of Nephele faded rapidly.

  With unclear vision, I tried to make out who it was.

  “I will survive.” There was a rasp to my voice.

  I felt the mattress rise as whoever was next to me stood back up on his feet. It wasn’t long until I recognized him.

  “Nathan.” A feeling of relief overtook me.

  “I am glad to see you are well. I was worried about you.” His lips curved into a narrow smile. Dark circles rested under his hazel-green eyes. His fair hair was tied back; cuts and bruises adorned his pale face and sharp nose.

  I rested my back against the bed’s wooden headboard. My muscles ached. My eyes surveyed the room, absorbing every detail. The dark wooden bed was ornamented with floral carvings; the carpet was a shade of purple, stretching throughout the entire room; matching curtains draped around the mullion windows. The fireplace burned and a fresh scent of cinnamon lingered.

  “When did we get here?” I asked with a broken voice, confused.

  “As soon as I rescued you from Erebos’s attack, I flew to Bellator.” Nathan paced around the room, his hands crossed behind his back.

  “How are the men that aided us in battle?” Vivid images of the battle of Justicia invaded my mind. For a moment, it was as if the screams of those men were as audible as my own voice.

  “Many perished against the Nephilins. The men of Aloisio knew they marched to their demise once I mentioned where we were heading.” Sorrow flowed with every word he uttered. “They cared not if they walked to their doom…they just wanted to avenge those that the Nephilins and the Fallen Stars had taken from them. They also sought vengeance be
cause of King Marco’s decision to side with Lucifer.”

  I wanted to remember the face of every man that had fought alongside us, but that was not something that I could do.

  “They were not warriors?” My eyes narrowed as some of their faces appeared in my mind.

  Nathan bowed his head, pressing his fingers against his chin.

  “War brings out the warrior in all of us, does it not?”

  I knew what those men would become. The thought that their souls would be controlled by the Fallen Stars once they turned into Shadows ignited rage inside of me. For a moment, I was tempted to think that all was in vain. My journey through the Wastelands of Tristar had been dark and perilous. I had seen more than I could ever fully fathom.

  Amidst the chaos that crowded my mind, I remembered the words Raziel had spoken to me once he found me: “Death is conquered. One greater has come.” Those seven words resounded in my heart like a loud horn played in the battlefield. Regardless of how triumphant my return may be, my heart ached at the thought that the Aloisians were fooled by King Marco and were murdered by the Fallen Stars and Nephilins.

  A sharp pain invaded my head. Nephele’s face flashed in my mind once again; her piercing blue eyes gazed at mine. I grunted, pressing my hands against my skull.

  “Are you alright?” Nathan’s brows furrowed. He darted me a concerned stare.

  “We have not been anywhere else besides this room since our arrival?” I quavered as I composed myself.

  Nathan approached me. “No,” he affirmed. “Is everything alright?”

  “I am not sure,” I said after a brief silence. “I saw…her.”

  Creases appeared on Nathan’s forehead.

  “Her?” His voice was deep and filled with worry.

  I shared with him what I had seen. To me, it had been more than just a vision or a dream. As my words painted a vivid image of Nephele, Nathan’s expression grew bitter.

  “That cannot be true, Isaac.” He scowled, nodding his head. “It must have been a dream. We have not been anywhere else besides this room since our arrival.”

  I was startled by a sudden knock on the door.

  “Is he well?” I heard a low, hoarse voice coming from the other side the moment Nathan opened the door.

  “Yes,” Nathan whispered.

  A man walked into the room. He appeared to be in his mid-forties. A thin silver crown sat on his head. It had seven spikes that protruded from its base. His beard was dark and short; his black hair touched the nape of his neck. He gave me a warm smile.

  “Isaac,” Nathan said as the man strolled toward me. “This is Demyon, king of Bellator. It was his army that found us once the castle of Justicia fell away from Tristar onto Elysium.”

  Behind the king, I caught sight of my friend—the one who, more than anyone else, understood and knew of the darkness I had witnessed in the Wastelands. It was Demetre.

  “You are finally awake.” There was a broad smile across his face. “You have kept us all waiting for too long.” The last time I recalled seeing him was in Justicia when the men of Aloisio joined us in the garden in front of the castle.

  “Demetre!” I shouted with joy. “I am relieved to see you are well.”

  “There are many who would not believe that you have returned from the Wastelands of Tristar, young ones,” King Demyon said in a soothing voice. His dark eyes seemed to smile as he spoke. “We are all relieved to see you two alive—and that the Diary and the other Books remain in the possession of their bearers.”

  “Where are the others?” I inquired with a heavy heart, apprehensive and afraid of their response. “Are they alive? Are they well?”

  Nathan sat on the settee located by my bed. “Yes, Isaac. All the others are here. Devin, Petra, Xylia, Adara, and Ballard are all safe.”

  I sighed with relief as I reclined my head against the bedpost.

  Demetre shot King Demyon a sudden stare.

  “How did you find us, King? How did you know we were going to be at one of the borderlines of Justicia and Elysium? Your riders flocked to the burning castle as the Shadows sprung from the woods.”

  “I hope you will find joy in knowing that even after all these years, some of us still keep watch over Elysium, Demetre, son of Paul and Lune Aliward.” King Demyon approached Demetre with calm footsteps, his eyes set on Demetre’s.

  Demetre raised both of his eyebrows. “You knew my parents?” he asked, surprised at King Demyon’s words.

  “Not only knew them. I was with your parents, and Isaac’s, when they escaped Justicia and fled to the village of Agalmath eighteen years ago. Unfortunately, I was not aware of the vow your parents had made with the Darkness.” King Demyon sat at the foot of my bed.

  Nothing Demetre could say or do was able to hide the curiosity that was stamped on his face.

  “I was there on the day the attack occurred. Queen Lylith and I had crossed over to meet Athalas when we found Justicia enveloped in smoke, shadow, and flame.” I observed King Demyon’s face filling with sorrow. “We rode to the burning castle, where we fought against the Nephilins and Shadows.”

  I burned with curiosity as his words filled my ears. I missed my parents. I wanted—I needed—evidence that they were dead or alive.

  “We crossed paths with Diane, Dustin, Paul, and Lune as they fled Justicia. They demanded we follow them.” King Demyon lowered his head.

  The crackling of the burning torches seemed to grow louder as King Demyon spoke. Every word that drifted from his mouth made me anxious. I felt a sharp pang of fear. Surely the worst was true—death had found my parents.

  “Paul claimed that Athalas had informed them of a box that contained the Dark Book, which we now know was a fake. Even with watchful eyes, I failed to see the master plan behind Athalas’s decision. ‘This is ours to keep safe,’ Paul declared once he revealed to us the rugged, locked—”

  “You said Paul, King?” I asked, confused at his latest remark. “Paul showed you the box containing the Diary?”

  King Demyon cleared his throat.

  “The Diary was not handed to your parents initially, Isaac. It was Paul and Lune Aliward who were chosen to keep the Diary safe at first.” I took a deep breath. “Athalas was no fool. The day he sold his soul to Lucifer, he erased from the Council’s memory the choice they were once given.”

  I was afraid of setting eyes on Demetre after receiving this new information. My heart raced in my chest. Nathan moved toward Demetre, who rested his head on his hands.

  “Lylith and I saw the box—a perfect replica of the original. As I touched the obscure object, the sound of whispering voices penetrated my ears. That was the moment when Paul, Lune, Diane, and Dustin informed the queen and I of their plan to hide away in the village of Agalmath, located next to the Forest of Hathar, where one of the borderlines of Justicia is located.”

  “The borderline we crossed with Devin…” My voice trailed off as I recalled the day when we had first set foot in the Fourth Dimension.

  The howling of the wind resonated outside. Through the glass window, I caught sight of the blinding snowstorm that had descended upon Bellator.

  “Of course, Diane and Dustin were aware that Athalas had surrendered his life to Lucifer. They knew of the conditions on which Paul and Lune were allowed to escape the battle of Justicia.” King Demyon’s gaze pierced mine. “Your mother trusted me with her secret. She developed the gift of foresight a thousand years after the Creator entrusted the Council with the Diary. Apart from me, only your dad knew of her powers. It was because of her ability that she saw what Paul and Lune had done before they left Justicia—and why they had all been spared.” King Demyon let out a soft, disappointed sigh. “They knew you would both be hunted by the Darkness when you reached maturity.”

  I was frozen in shock. “Foresight?” I shook my head in disbelief. To me, she had always been just an ordinary woman. “My mother could see the future?”

  “And your dad possessed the gift of meddling w
ith memories,” Nathan added in a soft voice.

  My heart ached at the sound of Demetre’s weeping. I didn’t know what to do or say. After all I had lived through, I was still unaware of the truth behind my own family.

  “Dustin erased the memories of Paul and Lune ever getting the Diary from Athalas. They stole the Diary, hiding the book away, never speaking of its powers, but unaware of the curse that rested upon the fake copy they carried.” King Demyon’s voice was filled with angst.

  Demetre could not hide the sorrow that overtook him as he heard the king’s account. He gnawed on his bottom lip; his eyes welled up with tears while he gazed at the corner of the room, turning from the king’s stare.

  King Demyon turned his face to the window. He watched the snow descend. “It was only after you were both attacked by Cyro that a special device came to me through Diane and Dustin.”

  “My parents came your way? What did they bring you?” I attempted to hold back my tears, but the feelings that whirled within me were too strong.

  “When the Council was created, the Creator not only entrusted the Diary of Lucifer to its members, but he also gave them a device that helped keep watch over Elysium. This device is named Lion’s Stare. Unfortunately, it does not function as well as before. After the fall of the Council, the Lion’s Stare was limited to showing only what its owner feels most important.”

  Demetre wiped the tears from his red cheeks; his eyes were red and swollen. “When did you learn about the Fallen Star that dwelled inside of me?”

  “When Diane and Dustin Khan walked through these doors informing me that Cyro was after the both of you, I looked into the Lion’s Stare and saw the truth behind Athalas’s plan. That was also the day she revealed to me what she had seen when they left Justicia.”

  Demetre’s upper body shuddered as he listened to King Demyon answer his question. He lowered his head, resting it on his hands.