Karolyn Cole and the



There was once a girl, born on Earth of a mother from another world, foretold to bring justice and harmony to the enchanted land of Lemuria. That girl died, trapped by the spell of an evil river. Her soul was captured by the corrupt Masters of Rebirth, but she escaped the chamber of souls with little but vague dreams and an unexplained call of destiny. Now you may  join Aunan Alderbrook and the Woodling Tabber on their journey to unite the Seven Keys of Azmerith as they explore the enchanted land of Lemuria. Pursued by Akvan trackers, demons sent by the evil High Lord, it is the determination and virtue of Aunan, as she enters into realms of illusion, reincarnation, and spirituality, that brings hope to the people of Lemuria.


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The original Quest of the Seven Keys,

Book 1 and 2 of the Cole Twins Saga,

was the first translated work commissioned

by the Lemurian Masters of the University.

For readers who enjoy a longer read,

the original full version is available below.


Karolyn Cole and the

Quest of the Seven Keys






Wandren sat on the bed across from Aunan, waiting for her to wake. “A caravan of Panish folk came in the night,” she told her as her eyes opened. “My brothers have gone below to get news of the war.” Aunan washed in the basin that stood beside the door and then followed Wandren through the hallway to the outer steps. There, she stopped, stunned by the sights in the courtyard below.

Open slat carts, horses and oxen crowded near the building. Women in torn skirts knelt in the carts, caring for the open gashes of the warriors lying there. The ground was littered with torn strips of blood-soaked cloth. A dead horse lay in the courtyard, its flanks pierced with broken shafts of arrows. It had struggled until its last breath to bring its wounded rider to safety. Barefoot children carried buckets of steaming water to the women in the carts and a row of wounded men lay beside the road. The innkeeper and serving girls were going from the inn to the courtyard carrying platters of food. Everywhere there was shouting and moaning. Haggard faced men and boys were lifting the side of a cart, trying to repair a broken wheel. Their armor was dented and smeared with blood; their dark curls of hair were matted with sweat and mud.

Aunan hurried down the steps toward one of the carts to help the wounded. The people around her stopped all that they were doing and stared at her. Silence spread over the courtyard. The men and boys who were fixing the wheel dropped the cart and turned. Women bowed and tapped their wrists together, the Panish salute of honor. Men of armor put their sword hands to their breastplates. “Hail the Redeemer of Tenmanchent!” shouted a woman nearby. All around the courtyard the shout repeated. Aunan turned, looking for the one who they honored. All eyes were on her. Ilthee pressed through the crowd. “We’d best go inside,” he said, bowing as he would to a queen. Taking her by the arm, he hurried her inside the tavern.

“They mistake me—” she said, following Ilthee into the tavern. The room was abuzz with talk of the war in Panish. Again, as she entered all became silent and looked at her. Ilthee took her to a table where Carden sat. He was writing on a piece of parchment the names of Panish warriors who were still strong enough to fight. One of the warriors from the courtyard had followed. He stood before them, his smashed helmet under his arm, his lips quivering.

“What is it?” asked Carden.

The warrior saluted. “The High Lord’s army promised peace if we surrendered one such as she, with hair of red. Is it true? Are you she who will throw down the High Lord?”

“No, I am....” Aunan started. She was motioned to silence by Ilthee. “Aša,” he announced. “This is the one of prophecy, she who will smash his reign.”