A New Generation (The Kallos Trilogy Book 2)

Book summary

In A New Generation, sixteen-year-old Alina, a healer-in-training, faces a dark fate as war threatens the mystical realm of Kallos. With allies from across magical races, she must unlock ancient powers to stand against the ruthless Fairy King, Atticus. As prophecies unfold and the stakes rise, Alina navigates love, betrayal, and destiny in a journey to unite realms and confront looming darkness.

Excerpt from A New Generation (The Kallos Trilogy Book 2)

Chapter 1: ALINA

Strolling under the archway of wisteria had become my favorite afternoon ritual this summer. Diya planted it behind our home to surprise me, and it bloomed into the most glorious gift. Its dropped petals surrounded me in a purple haze of sweetness as the sun danced through the open spaces, flickering in the gentle breeze like fleeting light spirits. I reached up to touch one of the dangling purple flowers, so soft and delicate against my fingertips. A bee buzzed at its base, sending a slight vibration through the velvety petals, while butterflies fluttered between blooms, adding a medley of colors within. It felt as if I were floating through a fragrant dream, a mere observer to this enchanting world.

We would use these seeds soon to prepare medicines for the heart; but for now, they simply bloomed in beauty and calm, providing a safe space for my mind to wander. My hand clasped the necklace Grandmother gave me, and I longed to feel her near.

She was devastated. Her sorrow seeped through the realms into my own heart.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the wind, a tear tickling my cheek as it trailed slowly downward. Silent and warm. I welcomed its sensation, clinging to the physical representation of Grandmother’s pain since I couldn’t wrap my arms around her.

The soft sound of footsteps approached from behind.

“May I join you?” Diya asked.

“Of course,” I responded, a quiver in my voice betraying any desire I may have had to conceal my sadness.

She glided into the archway, the sun’s light glittering across her caramel skin like a reflection on calm waters. Her own warmth mirrored the powerful rays, and the green speckles in her brown eyes shone like magical dustings. She looked above, her gaze following the wisteria’s pattern woven into the white lattice.

“Grandmother knows about Atticus,” I broke the silence.

Diya nodded, continuing to regard the archway in quiet contemplation.

“She’s heartbroken,” I added, tucking a golden strand of hair behind my ear.

Diya exhaled slowly, and I detected grief gripping her own heart beneath her calm exterior. She loved Atticus, too, but in a different, deeper way. Where Grandmother had a twin’s connection to him, Diya had a heart connection only two in love could share.

He was her broken dream. Her lost promise. He deceived her on the greatest level by turning to evil, ruling Skotadi in fear and seeking to overthrow the Kallos in his hunger for power and revenge. He shattered her heart in a way in which it would never entirely recover.

“He’s dying, Diya, and he’s…” I swallowed hard as a knot rose in my throat. “He’s alone.”

She reached a graceful hand up to one of the petals, her eyes finding mine. “Tell Maggie she couldn’t have known he was sick.”

“How did she not feel it?” I whispered, understanding Grandmother was speaking through me—through the connection the necklace provided between us and now between Diya and me since she’d added a stone.

“He isn’t the same man we once knew,” Diya said gently, her hand slowly moving down to her heart as it contracted in pain. I felt her ache within me like an ever-burning ember, destined to remain for all eternity in lonely anguish. “Atticus may be sick, but he is far from weak. And we know he is capable of doing unspeakable things,” she stated, stilling her heart as her face hardened. “You, Alina, must remain cautious and focused.”

I followed her eyes to a silky orange and yellow butterfly drinking sweet drops of nectar. Nature didn’t care how we were suffering; she simply continued to live and bloom in a beautiful, calm balance.

I knew Diya was right. Atticus would stop at nothing to gain access into the Kallos, and soon, he would succeed. The barrier was weakened, and his strength continued to grow daily. It was my job to protect myself from his advances. He wanted my skills as a traveler, threatening me and those I loved if I didn’t assist him in breaking into the realm. He wanted to prevent the prophecies from unfolding. Prophecies my mates and I discovered last year. I was meant to unite the worlds again. To open the gates between our barriers. And I was part of a trio: The Three envisioned to stop the Dark King. But I had only guesses at who the other two individuals were, their identity remaining a mystery.

The Kallos and all those I loved within depended upon my success in fulfilling these visions. More accurately, all the realms depended upon it. My heart lurched at this thought, thinking of my grandparents and parents back home with no protection.

I had to keep them safe. All of them.

Diya squeezed my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “I wish I could tell you when it will be safe again to travel between worlds. I know you miss your family. But, for the moment, I cannot.”

“I know,” I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

I didn’t blame her for not being able to visit my family back on Earth. I knew when I chose to stay here in the Kallos that it was too dangerous to travel back and forth. It was too risky with Atticus fighting so hard to enter, for every time I opened the gates, it weakened them further. I accepted this truth, but an ache lived deeply within my soul in missing my home. An ache I would continue to have as long as we were separated.

I felt a connection with Grandmother and, indirectly, with Papi through my necklace. I knew they were safe, content, and missing me, which was at least a comfort—for I missed them desperately. I wished I could speak with my parents, particularly with my mother. Since our last meeting, something had shifted in my heart. I had grown up feeling a distance between us, separating us like a glass fence. I could see her through it, but simply couldn’t touch her. But now… Now, I knew she shared in my skills as a healer. There was a depth to my mother I someday hoped to understand. A sadness and a longing, and most of all, a fear I could always detect but never place. Atticus knew her—another mystery—which filled me with a mixture of fury and worry.

What secrets had she kept from us? What had happened to her to make her despise magic? Had he hurt her?

“This is my home now,” I eventually said with a nod of acceptance.

***

The summer weeks passed calmly, working alongside Diya in the gardens and barn. At night, I often fell asleep with one of her books in hand, my current read titled Magical Beings from This World and Beyond, and aside from the darkness lurking in the shadows and behind the darkened sky, life felt peaceful in our home. I belonged here in this magical world with its beauty, its mystical creatures, and my friends who had become family.

Since I couldn’t call or fly a dove with my messages into my family’s dimension, I decided to journal about my experiences here. Maybe one day my parents would read it? If not, at least it gave me an outlet to make sense of this world and my role in it.

I described my friends, who were elves, fairies, and healers, and spoke of my heart connection to Taiki, including my first kiss, which still filled me with warm ribbons of desire in my belly. I’ll admit I have reread this passage multiple times throughout the summer. As much as it guilts me to have this somewhat secret love affair, I can’t seem to calm my beating heart.

It is against the Kallos rules to date a direct training mate. Diya warned me of the danger a distraction like young love could cause while mastering my skills, and I can’t bear to imagine if I was kicked out and sent back to Earth. But even that fear was less than the devastation I felt when considering not loving him, especially after all we’d endured together last year. Still, we had to be more careful.

I wrote about the dragons, the giants, and the vibrant wildlife. I also detailed the magnificent foliage in the enchanting forests and the dramatic landscapes of the different lands we visited, reliving the cultural influences gained through my travels. This realm achieved the perfect yin-yang of balance.

I had found my place among the majans in the Kallos. But one of the most important people in my life was Diya. Beautiful, kind, immensely wise Diya. She cared for me in every aspect of the word, acting as my mentor in healing and my guardian in life. She opened up her home to me, teaching me about herbs and tactile healing magic, guiding me through meditative yoga, and counseling me through feelings and fears. She’d been there for me every step of the way in my new life here, even healing me after Atticus’s attack. Now, we worked side by side daily—moving, healing, and growing together in seamless harmony.

Until recently, that is.

Over the past few days, a distance had developed between us. As if her mind was lost somewhere in the wild. Whispers of worry trailed behind her while she worked in silence, and this evening, I hadn’t seen her in quite some time.

I smiled at the sound of Burt’s quick footsteps approaching.

“Fed the animals ‘eir supper,” he gruffed, waving his tiny hand around as if bothered. “This group ain’t patient, they ain’t. One of ‘em near bit my finger off!”

“Thanks, Burt,” I held back a giggle, admiring his familiar small stature and grumpy expression. “Have you seen Diya?”

“Can’t say that I ‘ave. Right, well, I’ll be off then.” He glanced at Sammie as he trotted into the house, purple horns bobbing up and down atop his pink head. “If ya ask me, no pig should be sleepin’ in the bed,” he said, shaking his head in disapproval.

“Ah, now, don’t tell Sammie he’s a pig. He’d be devastated,” I teased and just almost got a smile from my gnome friend.

“Hmmff,” he huffed, turning to leave. “You and Diya… two peas in a pod, ya are.”

Once he was out of sight, concern flooded into my nerves. Where could Diya be? Donning my boots, I stepped into the cooling air as dusk set in, casting an orange glow throughout the land.

It was time to look for her.

I peeked into the barn, circled around the house, and walked through the gardens but found no sign of her. Hands on hips, my gaze traveled along the tree line, insects turning their night glows on as they floated through the trees in a riot of colorful flashes and glitters. Mona approached me, purring and rubbing her mountain lioness head against my hand—never too subtle in making her demands known.

“Hey girl,” I cooed, obeying by running my fingers through her golden fur. “Have you seen Diya?” I asked. Her violet eyes glistened with affection, but she made no move to direct me toward my missing mentor.

My breath caught as a rabbit jumped to my right, its cotton tail disappearing into the trees. I followed its path then closed my eyes and placed my hand over my necklace to feel for her. A warmth traveled through my chest like taking a first sip of hot tea on a cold, winter’s night, and my fingertips tingled as they searched the atmospheric energy for her vibration.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew where to look.