Category: Fallen Empires

Books and stories prior to escaping Sempervia.

Pietas sings like an angel but his voice can kill #Pietas #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. It’s a chance each week for you the reader to discover current WIP or previously published book by possibly new-to-you authors. Pietas Sings features a scene from Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire.

The immortal Pietas plans to use his voice as a means of healing his mother, who is critically ill. His human friend, Six, is nearby. Some people are adversely affected by the tones Pietas’s voice generates, and some…die.
—

Pietas had killed countless humans, but he’d never sung in front of one.

The human would hear each note. However, his anti-emo chip might block the effect. Even if it did hurt Six, as much as he loved his friend, if singing returned his mother’s health, Pietas could not hold back. Six would understand.

Would it affect the panther, Pretosia?

When he sang, birds and insects took wing. He’d never sung around big cats. From what he’d gathered, these panthers had been bred as warriors. If they were like other working animals, they might appear unaware, while detecting the slightest sound, scent, and vibration.

The acoustics might be better if he sang into the cave instead of out, but even with Six behind him, he could not turn his back to the exit.

Not yet.

Had he retained his voice? He’d recovered his other gifts, as much as he could tell, and had vast improvements in his ability to speak mind-to-mind. Could he still sing? Time to find out.

To keep his voice from going too deep, Pietas placed tongue against teeth and made an extended zzz sound, then did a few lip trills. After a few deep breaths, he lifted his head and hummed. Nothing different in the feel of his throat or vocal chords. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Six. To keep from being distracted, he focused on a spot on the cave’s mouth while he continued his warm-up. Starting with middle C, he sang simple ooh sounds up and down the scale.

His mother remained still as death, a slight rise and fall of her chest revealing she breathed. Her white uniform showed less wear than what the others wore, but it was soiled and stained. How it must have chafed her pride to wear such a garment.

Pietas launched into song. The notes filled the air, their tone pure and clear. The joy of it filled him as he sang. Before the end of the first stanza, his mother opened her eyes. He continued, song after song, vocalizing each word of each line, every song he knew. Words full of victory, honor, duty, pride.

Six drew himself up, his back ramrod straight. Perhaps that chip did less good than Pietas thought.

The harmonics in his voice generated pleasure ranging from simple enjoyment to rapturous gratification. Some experienced anger, depression, or terror. His voice also possessed curative powers. Not as strong as those with the healing gift called Smooth, but enough to revive the critically ill or injured and keep them alive until help came.

No other Ultra had such a voice. Though he loved music and possessed absolute pitch, Pietas never performed in public.

He started an old battle hymn about steel and guts, iron and flesh, the wings and teeth and claws of a killing machine. Glorious for soldiers, yet his fragile, scientist mother moved her hand, keeping time with the music. She drew a long, sighing breath and released it as if she’d held it an eternity.

Flushed and sweating, Six panted as if he’d been running.

A battle song of warriors in flight came next. He sang of the scorched and blackened soil of the conquered and the poetic justice of fire raining from the sky.

Color suffused his mother’s cheeks. She took his hand.

Six turned his back, shoulders rounded, head down.

To end, Pietas chose a slow song of war in a minor key. The ancient tune was a favorite the night after battle and it suited both baritones and tenors. Forged in Fire fit them as exiles. Pietas hummed to set the key, then released the true power of his voice.

Tears filled his eyes by the time he reached his favorite stanza.

We can’t forget. We won’t forgive. We must return. We shall avenge.
We never quit. We do not sway. Our enemies–we will repay.
An Ultra’s heart is forged in fire. An Ultra’s heart is forged in fire. An Ultra’s heart is forged in fire.

When he finished, the silence was absolute.

From Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire

What if you were marooned on a barren world? What if you had no food and few survival tools? What if you’d been genetically engineered and no matter how agonizing the wound, you’d survive.

It could be worse. You could be here alone. But that’s the problem. You’re not.

You’re trapped with a ruthless enemy you’ve fought for centuries.

Talk about being forged in fire…

Available for preorder on Amazon Nov 11-Dec 28. Purchase on Dec 29, 2017
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Posted in Fallen Empires | Tagged Bringer of Chaos, Forged in Fire, Immortal Heroes, Kayelle Allen Characters, Pietas, Sci-Fi Romance, Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels, Sempervians |

A psychic fight is chaos #SciFi #SpaceOpera #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

In this scene from Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire, Pietas has a psychic fight with his sister, Dessy. Having seen Pietas performing a ritual for their people with a human, she adjusts the “mask” he’s wearing. (He’d pretended to put it on, but due to the urgency of the situation, there’s nothing on his face.) When Pietas takes affront, twins Armand and Philippe try to take her side.

A Psychic Fight

Dessy slid one fingertip across an area below one of his eyes. “There.” She dusted off her hands. “That’s better.”

“What did you do?”

“Since you didn’t have a real partner for your ritual, I fixed your mask.” She shot him a humorless, sneering smile. “You missed a spot.”

Ire flooded Pietas. He gripped Dessy’s wrist and yanked her to him.

The shock on her face gave way to indignation. “Let go!” She jerked her arm but he held her fast. She shoved him.

He didn’t budge, refusing to let her win.

She bombarded him with her empathic senses. The psychic melee of anger and rage stung worse than an ice storm, but pain had never stopped him. “I’m warning you, Pietas. Let go of me!”

“Or what?” He shot back his own and added a trickle of Wilt, a demand for surrender. “You’ll tell Daddy?”

Her inborn Ultra gift of Compulsion pushed at his mind, willing Pietas to release her. His sister had mastered the psychic ability as a toddler. He’d been four before he grasped the concept. Seven before he’d mastered it.

But he’d been born immune.

Another wave of outrage pummeled him, but it did no more good than the first.

“Pietas!” Dessy stamped her foot. “Let go or so help me–” She threw her other hand up, fingers spread.

The world tilted, disorienting him, no longer than it took to blink.

“Did you throw Chaos at me?” He patted his chest. “They call me Bringer of Chaos because it’s my strongest gift.” He yanked her up hard and brought his face close to hers. “Shall I show you?”

“No! No, Pietas, don’t.” She quit fighting. “Let me go.”

“I will not play games with you, Sister.” He loosened his grip, allowing her freedom. Even as furious as she’d made him, he refused to hurt her. “Did you think I wouldn’t know what you were doing? Telling me I ‘missed a spot’ was a play for power.”

“Power?” Dessy’s eyes flashed, their deep-winter-ice darkening to sooty gray. She settled herself and lifted her chin, regarding him with all the cold calculation of a paid temptress seeking whatever customer held the most cash. “I’m your sister. How can you say that to me?”

“How? Because two thousand years of attitude. Because you haven’t changed one bit. You’re more manipulative than ever.”

She rubbed her wrist, softening her expression. Tears welled. She folded her hands as if in prayer and placed them along her cheek. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Don’t be angry with me.”

“Save it. That hasn’t worked on me since I was a boy.”

“Oh, Pietas.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry. Didn’t you realize I was playing? I’ve missed you. I wanted to be part of your ritual, that’s all.” Her voice broke on the last.

Armand and Philippe whipped toward her faster than trained puppies.

Pietas threw the compulsion to stop.

They halted, their wills frozen by the conflicting psychic demands.

Dessy reverted to her temptress self, glaring at him with a dare. “You’re the one who hasn’t changed. You countermand everything. You’re the same pain in the–”

“Dessy!” Pietas bent down to her. “You’ve been the queen of fake tears since you were two and discovered they got you out of punishment. They might have worked on our father but they will not work on me. Save it.”

“You let that human do the ritual with you! There’s nothing worth less than a human.” She sent a snarling glance Six’s way. “Except a dead one.”

Posted in Fallen Empires | Tagged Blog Hop, Bringer of Chaos, Immortal Heroes, Kayelle Allen Characters, Pietas, Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels, Sempervians |

Pietas: Embrace pain. Make it your lover. Make it your own #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

In this scene from the first book in the Bringer of Chaos books, fans of the Tarthian Empire series will recognize the origin of Peril. Pain and death have an intimate place there–and here.

Pain and death

Pietas must have fallen asleep, because he woke with a start. He took quick stock of himself and his surroundings. Black parachute cloth arched above him, flapping in a gentle breeze. The rain had stopped, and there was sun. A few scattered clouds. Still no movement in his extremities. Limited movement in his neck. No feeling anywhere. He tried speaking. Not even a croak.

Under the same stretch of cloth, Six sat cross-legged, thumbing through a notebook. He glanced up, and set the notes aside. “You look better. You ready for water?”

Without waiting for a reply, Six brought him a tube, and held it while Pietas sipped.

“Good job. You didn’t choke this time. You look less shrunken. Let’s get some food in you and then we’ll both clean up.” He brought out another tube, broke off the cap, and held it for him. “Slow and steady. There we go. Good job.” He propped an elbow on one thigh, and held the tube while Pietas sipped the nutrient. “You had multiple fractures from the fall, but your bones set fine all by themselves. Your face was bad when I opened the pod. Nose all squished and off to the side. Jaw broken. Cheekbones crushed. Skull fractured. When you looked up at me…” He gave a long whistle. “All I saw was blackened skin against the black background of the pod, and two huge turquoise eyes staring.” He brushed away a glimmer of tears.

Were those tears…for him? Humans cried because of him. Not for him.

“Man, Pietas. I can’t believe how fast you’re healing. All your bones are where they belong. I wish I healed like you do.”

Pietas had wondered what it would be like to feel pain for more than a few minutes. To feel pain that didn’t end.

The pod had shown him that.

Was that what it felt like to be human? He’d learned long ago they feared pain. Would do anything to avoid it. To avoid death. Threaten torture and most humans caved. Most surrendered anything they knew as soon as they saw the first tool of torture. Some managed to withhold until they were injured. Most talked. Not all, but enough to make it worthwhile. He used torture if it shortened the wait for information, but never to be cruel. He had no compunctions about killing, but unless they threatened him or his mission, he had let humans live.

He wouldn’t do that anymore. After what they’d done to him, from now on, he’d make them beg for death.

On him, torture had no effect.

Pietas had taught himself, disciplined himself never to fear pain. To welcome it. Invite it. Embrace it. Make pain and death a regular part of his life. Whatever frightened him, he ran toward. Pain was joy. He conquered it. Made it his lover. Made it his own. Absorbed it into himself.

When you fear nothing, nothing is a threat.

Now? Did he fear pain now? Pietas mulled that. Well, he no longer had to wonder about pain that didn’t end. He’d experienced it.

Conquered it.

Did he want to repeat it?

Pietas finished the food, and took a long, satisfying breath of clean air.

Not if he could avoid it. But dying every day for a year would be a good exercise for his soldiers. If you survived that kind of peril, you’d survive anything. And no threat the enemy brought would be worse than what he could do to them.

He’d have to give that some serious thought. Maybe train them that way, one soldier at a time. Teach them to embrace death the way he did. An army of soldiers like that…the galaxy could not stop.

Pietas is also in books set in the Tarthian Empire and the Bringer of Chaos series including the Origin of Pietas, Forged in Fire, and Watch Your Six (in progress).

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Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. It’s a chance each week for you the reader to discover current works in progress or previously published books by possibly new-to-you authors. Thank you for stopping by. Please say hello or leave a note in the comments.

Posted in Fallen Empires | Tagged Bringer of Chaos, Immortal Heroes, Kayelle Allen Characters, Origin of Pietas, Pietas, Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels, Sempervians |

Fighting the Dark and Dreaded King #SpaceOpera #Pietas #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

Found in almost all my other scifi stories, Pietas has always been portrayed as the dark and dreaded king no one dares to cross. How did he become such a fearsome creature? Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas reveals the origin of his journey into the bleak shadows of his soul.

In the fight scene that follows, Pietas had been given two options. Surrender or die a horrible final death by fire. Defiant even in defeat, he created a third option of his own, and that is what sets the scene.

Writing a fight means writing fast movement. The dark and dreaded king is decisive. He doesn’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to win. This section shows his incredible speed. Pietas is on the ground and the soldiers who enter are hoping he’s unconscious due to lack of air. But this immortal can hold his breath ten to fifteen times longer than a human.

Fighting the Dark and Dreaded King

Crowded as the space was between his pod and the wall, two ghosts crept into it. Six spots of light showed on the other side. Eight ghosts then. That would be a much better fight. One nudged him with a foot.

Suppressing a smile, Pietas continued to play dead.

Ghost One bent down, turned him onto his back.

Pietas let his body flop.

The guy came in closer, checked for a pulse.

He opened his eyes.

The ghost’s alarm fed Pietas energy.

He yanked him down, hard, while jamming the heel of his hand up. The ghost’s head snapped back, and Pietas felt his bones crack. He shoved him aside and went after Ghost Two.

Pietas gripped his leg and tripped him. He jammed an elbow down onto the man’s neck. Bones broke. The ghost’s stab of dying fear spiked the energy from the first, and Pietas mixed it with his gift of chaos. He flung the vortex of emotions outward, broadcasting confusion and terror.

He activated his ability called zip. The pseudo speed meant he could move at a regular pace, but humans perceived him as a blur. They could not focus on him long enough to get close. To him, everyone moved in slow motion.

He flipped onto his feet, braced both hands on his pod, and kicked Three and Four square in the chest.

He pushed off the pod, and the momentum carried him straight into the arms of Five and Six. They stumbled backward, tumbling Seven and Eight onto the floor.

Pietas rolled, grabbing Seven. One quick twist of the neck, and another down. Five to go.

Six and Eight flipped themselves to their feet. Three and Four struggled to rise.

Pietas took a running leap and crushed Three’s neck. Four raised his hands to shield his face. A swift kick to the head–gone.

Pietas dropped, rolled, came up behind Eight. Broke his neck.

The burning need for air hurt, but there were two to go.

He turned, and a fist caught him in the mouth. Thrown off balance, he danced sideways. Pietas touched his lip, and frowned at the spot of blood. He met the gaze of Ghost Six, who’d punched him.

No human had ever hit him before. Pietas gave a nod.

Five and Six rushed him.

Turning into Five’s momentum, Pietas hurled him into the wall, jamming the ghost’s head down onto his spine.

He whirled back to find Six standing beside Helia’s pod, working the code on a control panel. The ghost held up a warning hand, and poised his other over a bar with flashing red letters: Immolate.

He could kill the ghost without killing his mother. Pietas darted toward him.

Six shook his head. “Don’t make me,” he mouthed. He patted a set of wristlocks at his waist, and then pointed to the floor.

For no reason would he grovel. Not even for his mother.

Pietas considered creating an illusion, and then killing him, but they had cameras on him and would know. Illusions could not be photographed. They took energy to hold, and the dark and dreaded king was running out. Fast.

JOIN US FOR BOOKHOOKS
Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. It’s a chance each week for you the reader to discover current works in progress or previously published books by possibly new-to-you authors. Thank you for stopping by. Please say hello or leave a note in the comments.

Posted in Fallen Empires | Tagged Blog Hop, Bringer of Chaos, Immortal Heroes, Kayelle Allen Characters, MFRW, Origin of Pietas, Pietas, Sempervians, Ultras |

Heroes Using Weapons: writing a story with guns #Pietas #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

In today’s society with arguments for and against gun control, is it smart to write a story in which weapons play a large part? What if heroes using weapons is the wrong thing to write about?

I’m working on a short story that might never see the light of day. The hero keeps hiding his motives from me, which makes it difficult to write about him. But if it does manage to burst into being, Lights Out will have a lot to do with weapons, guns, soldiers, and war. It’s the tale of a soldier who dies and is brought back to fight again.

Heroes Using Weapons

In the Bringer of Chaos series, the sidekick of the immortal hero is a human warrior who’d been killed in action and then revived.

To accomplish the rebirth, all the blood in the soldier’s body is replaced with the blood of an immortal. When he or she comes back to life, the training and natural abilities are all still present, but so are abilities of the immortal. If they were telepathic, so is the soldier. If they possessed enhanced speed, so does the soldier. There are dozens of “gifts” and each has both a benefit and a drawback. If you can hear the thoughts of others but can’t forget them, life could get uncomfortable fast.

With my heroes using weapons it meant I needed to understand what they do. As I prepared to write this new short story as well as book three in the Chaos trilogy, I had to understand how these weapons were used. To do that, I researched weapons of today and weapon concepts of the future.

I have a military background and enlisted in the Navy during the Viet Nam era. When I write a military sci fi or romance, I’m speaking from experience. My heroes using weapons is a result of that experience.

I’m going to take shooting lessons and learn how to use weapons myself. I want to write from experience with this as well.

Rather than shy away from the topic, I thought I’d see what my readers think about stories concerning guns. Do you read them? What do you think about stories concerning them? Do you look for stories that have a moral implication or do you prefer a rock-em-sock-em robot sort of tale?

Image credit: Nano-Core (commission for KayelleAllen.com)

Posted in Fallen Empires | Tagged Blog Hop, Bringer of Chaos, Immortal Heroes, Kayelle Allen Characters, MFRW, Pietas, Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels, Sempervians, Writing |

The panther tribe claimed his ferocity as their own. Bringer of Chaos #SpaceOpera #MFRWhooks

Updated on 05/13/2024 by Kayelle Allen

Tribe

Pietas had taken two steps when multiple voices cried out a warning: "Behind you!"

His father came at him with another knife. Pietas threw up an arm to defend himself.

A black tornado swept between them.

Pietas stood stock still, unable to process what he was seeing.

The panther had leaped into the fray, fangs bared. Mahikos fell beneath the bloodthirsty onslaught of snarling animal fury.

Six pulled Pietas away. "He was going to stab you in the back! That cat came out of nowhere!"

Hardly nowhere. The cat had tracked him since day one.

Watch. Scout. Guard. Keep. Care. Safe. Duty.

Pietas understood now.

Growling, the panther gripped his father's throat in its powerful jaws, but didn't complete the bite. Waiting. Listening.

Through their connection, Pietas understood. It awaited the kill command.

Pietas opened his mouth to give the order.

"No!" Helia screamed. "Stop!"

He hesitated.

The Council had gathered. No one moved. No one interfered.

The panther yelped, twitched, and then went limp.

His father pushed the animal off him, revealing a knife protruding from the cat's chest. He stood, staggering. The cat's dark blood drenched the front of his once-white uniform. Mahikos covered the puncture wounds on his neck.

Armand and Philippe closed in on him and gripped his arms.

The panther's green eyes closed as Pietas knelt beside the animal. He stroked the sleek black fur of its chest, its jaw, traced one finger around the rounded ears. The cat's lifeblood oozed from its wound. Forgive me! I should have let you eat him.

Battle wounds in Ultras, Pietas understood. He'd never treated an animal. If he removed the knife, the bleeding might worsen. Hasten death. One did not mercy kill a fellow Ultra. They healed.

Ultras took no prisoners. He'd dispatched suffering humans. Why torture an enemy close to death? After what traitors done to him, however, he'd rethink that in the future.

Pietas could not bring himself to kill someone so loyal. He rested his hand on its chest, felt breath leave the body. This beautiful animal had died for no reason other than to save him.

A rumbling growl surrounded him. From the dark, eyes flashed green and gold.

"Pi!" Six called to him. "Leave the cat. I think they want you to back away."

Unmoving, he opened himself the way he had earlier. He'd felt the presence of the other panthers but had not recognized then who and what they were. An impression thrummed between him and the cats, teasing his senses. Unspoken, as present as the background hum of a powerful ship. A shared energy.

Pietas gave himself over to them and they drew him in, welcoming his presence, accepting his nature, claiming his ferocity.

More than brotherhood. More than soldiers. More than family.

Tribe.