Rhonas's Path

Rhonas’s Path tells the story of Amelia and James, two missionaries of the Church of Herus, as they team up with three soliders from the Dominion, an opposing faction to the church. Together, the five warriors go on a quest to an ancient elven temple with the goal of unlocking a power and defeating a beast of myth. Along the way, they learn the importance of trust, forgiveness, and bravery.

Rhonas’s Path is Nathan Berglas’s first full-length novel, written over the course of multiple years, starting in January 2022 to May 2024.

Provided is a short preview of the first chapter.

Chapter 1 - Group of Five

Amelia does not take her eyes off him for an instant. She slowly creeps around the underbrush into a forest clearing, James close behind her. The man is a few steps in front of her, still oblivious to their presence. Amelia places a hand on her sword, still in its scabbard, her eyes trained on the man. It’s nearly midnight, but she can see that the man is shaking. He stumbles forward, his hand clutching a drawstring pouch attached to his belt next to a small dagger. Amelia glances over at James. They both nod in agreement.

“Drop your weapons and turn around. By order of the Church of Herus, you are to be detained and brought before Head Priest Ecclesia for judgment. Come willingly and you may be given leniency,” Amelia says. The man spins around, his eyes widen. Before he can take another step, James is beside him, sword pointed at his throat. The man stumbles backwards, tripping over his feet and landing on his back. He pulls his hands up in front of his face, his legs writhing in an attempt to scramble away.

“You can’t do this, I’m with the Royal Dominion! If they find out you tried to arrest me, they’ll have your head!”

“I doubt they care what we do to you,” Amelia says. James sheaths his sword and leans down, plucking both the dagger and the pouch off the man’s belt.

“Just as we thought, stolen gold. When we tell the Dominion about this, they’ll be happy we arrested you,” James says. He spills a handful of golden coins onto his palm and inspects them. He looks down at the coins, and in that moment of distraction, the man jumps to his feet and dashes. Amelia and James run after him, but the man is too fast. The man scurries out of the clearing into the murk of forest.

“He’s getting away, we need a strategy!” Amelia yells.

“We’ve dealt with worse, this is child’s play.”

“Great plan.” She looks around. The forest is thick, dark, and deserted. They’ve been searching for the thief for almost an hour, and in the final step they let him get away? On her left she hears the distant sound of a brook.

“James, lead him to the left, I’ll meet you there!” She darts to the left, praying she makes it in time. She reaches the muddy bank of the river, and with no time to slow down, she jumps over and slides down the bank until she reaches the rocky water’s edge. The brook is a couple meters wide and she leaps over it with ease. Crashing comes from the other side of the river as the thief stumbles out of the underbrush and down the embankment, James following behind him.

Just what I planned.

The bed of the brook is filled with small stones, about the size of Amelia’s palm. She grabs one. The man splashes into the brook, and Amelia takes aim, then throws. The rock hits the man in the shoulder, knocking him over. He splats onto the muddy river bank, and in a flash, James is on top of him.

* * *

The sun has long set and the remaining soldiers are returning back to the southern barracks. The barrack gates are still open, waiting for the last patrols to trickle in. Dylan and Levy are the last two soldiers returning. They approach the gate on horseback, Dylan waving to the guard as they pass through. Dylan is taller than Levy. He’s a young man in his early twenties, his soldier’s uniform hanging off his lanky shoulders and relaxed posture. The uniform is made from a black and red surcoat adorned with a chain belt and sword.

Beside him, sits Levy. Although he’s shorter, his straight posture makes his head bob higher. Levy is of similar age, and wears the same black and red surcoat, properly buttoned.

“Home sweet home,” Dylan muses as they walk into the southern barracks.

“As if you consider Fesphia your home,” Levy replies, gesturing to the barracks, and city.

The southern barracks is a walled enclosure at the very bottom of the city. The northern wall of the barracks connects to the rest of the city’s walls. The walls are made of stone and mortar, with a handful of guards stationed on the parapets. The inner grassy courtyard features a large area with cabins, pavilions, and training grounds scattered across in a haphazard design. The largest building is constructed of wood and sits against the northern wall. It has a long wrap-around deck and is wider than it is deep. It’s only a floor tall but is more than capable as the administration building of the barracks and as an office for the residing general. It isn’t the only barracks in the capital city but it is the only one that’s being used.

“Security’s really been stepped up,” Dylan says, motioning to the many guards walking around the perimeter of the barracks.

“Has been for quite some time, since the frost thawed. If you asked the Church, they would say it’s because we’re preparing to attack them, but if you asked the Dominion, it’s because the Church is going to attack us. I say that it’s neither. It’s the same as it’s always been, as tensions rise, so does militarization,” Levy says.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. Know how many hours we’ve worked this week? We might actually be able to afford to leave this city if this keeps up.”

“It is a bad thing. I would prefer it if the country didn’t go up in flames. We wouldn’t just be able to move out of Fesphia and clean our hands of it. The Dominion wouldn’t let us leave, and we’d have to watch our backs for Church soldiers trying to stab us, and that’s without even thinking of the consequences. If the Church and Dominion declare war…” Levy looks over to Dylan to make sure he’s still listening. Dylan is examining his fingernails.

“It wouldn’t be good, yeah, I get it. Fine, you’re right,” Dylan says as they enter the stables to hitch their horses for the night.

Dylan and Levy hop off their saddles, hitch their horses, Daisy and Echo, and gather their belongings off the side packs. Together, they walk up the steps and into the administration’s building. They head left to the office of their commanding officer, General Bergurn Whiteflaw. They knock.

“Enter.” The general says from the other side of the heavy oak door.

They enter and sit down.

“Greetings, Levy, Dylan. You scouted up north last I heard. Are all of our settlements intact? What is the Church presence in that area?” General Whiteflaw asks.

“There was low Church presence,” Levy says, “We did encounter one small Church settlement which may cause us some trouble in the future, but as of now, they’re not a threat. As for our settlements, they were mostly intact.”

The general leans forward and clasps his hands together on his desk, waiting for Levy to continue.

“There was this one farm that was destroyed.” Levy says.

“The Church of Herus?”

“Hard to say, but I doubt it was them. We were riding on the main road when some desperate farmers approached us. They said that they needed help because their neighbour’s farm was destroyed. The farm was quite far away so we did not check it out in person.”

“Did the farmers give any additional details?”

“They did, but it wasn’t very clear what they were saying. It was all second-hand accounts, nobody was actually there when it was destroyed.” Levy says. General Whiteflaw strokes his chin as he listens.

“But the one thing they all agreed upon is that whatever destroyed the farm wasn’t human, something more powerful than a human,” Dylan says.

“I’m still not sure what to think of it. The farmer’s were insistent that we believe them. It took all of my self control not to laugh. Until I realized they were serious.” Levy says.

“I believe them. I’m telling you, some of those legends you always hear about? They have some truth to them,” Dylan says, scratching the back of his head.

“So is that all?” General Whiteflaw says. “If so, then you are dismissed. Come see me in the morning.”