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Aquosvegna: The Trident of Power

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A prophecy of doom. A kingdom divided. A family reunited. This is the story of Aquosvegna. Aquosvegna (pronounced Akos-ven-ya) rules over all waters, above and under land. Its king sits on his throne, wielding his powerful trident to maintain peace in his domain. All water creatures are bound to him in obedience and loyalty. It has been so since the beginning of time. But when a prince of lesser lineage rises to claim the throne, he unwittingly unravels the terrible secret that has been hidden for years from all water creatures: a prophecy that can annihilate them all--or make them ruler above all creation.

Fantasy / Mystery
Mayumi Cruz
Age Rating:

The Sins of the Fathers



The vast plain of sand stretching from northeastern Niger into the western part of the Republic of Chad was covered in eerie darkness. Above it, the blackness of the skies were peppered by a sprinkling of stars which, although plenty, did not quite give enough illumination over the land.

A newborn’s wail pierced through the silence of the desert night, followed by an odd mix of varying tones of whimpers floating amidst the warm, arid wind.

After checking on the source of the wail, and finding it to his satisfaction, the green-haired warrior hurriedly focused his full attention to the woman lying on the sand.

She was on her back, her helmet and warrior suit set aside. Only a white, blood-stained garment covered her battered body.

Her long, white hair fanned her beautiful face, making her features aglow for the last time . . . for she was dying.

The man clasped her hands, as he urgently pleaded to her,

“My love, let me find an oasis. There must be one here. . . somewhere. . . !”

“No. . .” the woman whispered, struggling to speak.

“You and I . . . know. . . I am . . . beyond that. There. . . is no time. . . to waste. Do . . . what we have. . . agreed upon. Please, my love. Do not . . . let . . . my death . . . be in vain.”

A sob escaped from the man’s lips. “Must the cost be this high?”

Weakly, she lovingly touched his face. “I’m afraid. . . it is, my darling. Because . . . what is at stake. . . is comparable . . . to none.”

Miserably, he can only stare at her helplessly for he knew what she said was true.

“I can’t do this alone. . . I can’t do this without you!”

“You will. . . you must!”

Eagerly, she squeezed his hand with all the strength remaining in her. His green eyes searched her blue ones, etching her face in his memory.

“I love you. I love you!” he murmured pressingly, realizing that they only have seconds to spare.

“And I, you. Always. . . Please. . . remember. . . that.”

“I will. I will never forget you, my darling.”

One last kiss.

One last breath.

Then she closed her eyes, her hands dropping from his grasp, her breathing expunged.

Slowly, her skin started to shrivel and dry up.

He watched her as her body gradually turned brown and wrinkled, until it took the form of a driftwood, her face and body etched on it. Unmoving, cold, and lifeless.

For a few seconds, the man sat immobile. His grief was indescribable, his agony deeply entrenched in his heart that it rendered him numb. A lone tear escaped from his blank eyes, a last monument to his emotions, before he put it away, never to surface for eternity.

He begun to claw at the sand with his bare hands. At snail’s pace at first, but then, it became faster. . . and faster. . . until a shallow grave was formed.

There, he gently laid down the wooden image of the only woman he has ever loved, placing a kiss on its cold lips. Then he covered the grave with the sand he had dug, burying her along with the love in his heart.

Afterward, with shaking hands, he scooped the whimpering newborn in his arms. He slowly put his left palm over the little one’s face.

The child cried and cried and cried.

Then the cries abruptly stopped.

His jaw clenched, the green-haired man stood up and walked, with heavy footsteps, back to the direction of the makeshift tent in the middle of the Sahara desert.

Several gruesome tasks were waiting, still to be undertaken. His wife was right. There was no time to waste.


Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, a baby bottle-nosed dolphin, swimming beside its floating dead mother, shrieked a high-pitched, lengthy, depressing whistle.

Then it slowly came beside its mother and rested its head on her exposed stomach. It stayed there, like its mother, unmoving.

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Novembersnow : Love love love it!!! You did a great job like always. I can’t wait for the next one!!!

halsteaddawn1960: Wonderfully written. It's hard to put down.

Rachel: Oh my stars!!! This story was amazing!!! Very few grammar mistakes and gloriously detailed! I couldn't put it down!

Serenity Choi: I know you said that this isn't the end of their story, but man how i wish it was still going. Writer, you did a magnificent job telling this story. Now I'm going to read more of your work and wait for book 14.

Anna_Bentoumi: Alles super spannend prickelnde Erlebnis super weiter so

Estera: Still too much drama for me, i stopped reading this book at some point because it was too stressful for me

nzamanokuzola840: I loved every moment of it plz continue to be the great writer you. Thank you so much for taking us on this magical journey.

Frannette Lungu: This is so sad

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Maria: Das ist mein drittes Buch was ich jetzt von dir lese .Ich mag es wie du schreibst. Mit Liebe , Emotionen und Feingefühl , Personenbeschreibung.

marilyn: Wow....I can't believe everything that has happened so far. It's so interesting and intriguing

Mharms: I like the storyline following in the numbered books. This makes an interesting narrative. All adults would enjoy reading.

Mharms: I liked that the story line is in continuous book to book form. It makes a compelling history to follow. Very interesting.

marilyn: It's awesome to hear about all these shifters finding their fated mates. I can't wait to hear more about them. I also want to hear about the cubs. And for Daryl to find his mate.

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