Four crystals of power to save the world and time is running out.
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The Hidden Crystal
Sarac, a young student magician is beaten and cast aside when Alena, a priestess he loves is captured and carried off to sea by marauders who torch his village in search of the Crystal of Fire.
Sarac resolves to rescue Alena, though doesn’t realize that his urgent quest is part of a greater purpose; the Crystal of Fire is one of four Crystals of Power ancient Wizards created to prevent the terrible planetary upheaval their world suffers every one thousand years. Sarac must find the Crystals of Power and unite them before the Fall Equinox when the red planet Nibiru comes into alignment with their planet or all will be lost.
Naga, an evil sorcerer, seeks the Crystals of Power as well for a different purpose, to enslave all mankind and gain dominion over their world regardless of the devastation it will cause.
With the help of Joran, a wizard of immense power, Sarac faces increasing threats from the approaching cataclysm which is starting to rain destruction on their planet, and from Naga who is determined to retrieve the Crystals of Power at all costs. The urgency of their quest increases when Sarac learns that Naga is torturing Alena to get her to reveal the location of the remaining Crystals of Power. As the Fall Equinox approaches, Sarac struggles to unravel an ancient prophecy, defeat Naga, rescue Alena, and ultimately save their world from violent destruction.
Sweat ran down Sarac’s cheek as he raced down a narrow forest path, panicking as branches lashed his face. His boots crunched through virgin snow, now stained with drops of blood. He clutched his wounded chest and stopped suddenly, unsure of his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.
Pale blue eyes stared out at the surroundings from a narrow face of sixteen seasons, framed by thin cheekbones. He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair and shivered, pulling his coarse white robe tighter around him. This was supposed to be a training exercise and he was wholly unprepared for the climate. He pressed himself against the trunk of a tree as the sound of his pursuers passed close by, trying to remain as still as possible while his ragged breathing sent puffs of fog into the cold air.
Four shadows appeared around a bend in the trail. A thin boy with straw-colored hair and a sour expression on his face, wearing a white robe with a polished buckle of a golden sun stepped forward, followed closely by three other boys. “Which way did Sarac go?” came Braden’s surly voice. “I should have killed him when I had the chance. If he makes it back to the Temple of Inscriptions to tell the Elders what happened…”
Sarac picked up a small rock and threw it hard against a tree on the other side of the trail. It made a loud cracking sound as it struck the trunk.
“This way!” Braden shouted, leading the boys away from Sarac’s hiding place.
Sarac breathed a sigh of relief, and stumbled forward. Female voices drifted on the wind as Sarac’s feet snapped fallen branches. In a grassy clearing ahead, four girls were practicing their dancing. A chestnut-haired girl in a white dress caught his eye; her long, brown tresses flowed as her feet skimmed the ground. Sarac’s eyes widened as he watched, entranced as the girl spun and twirled, seeming to float across the meadow. She looked like an angel as the radiance of the sun cast a golden nimbus behind her, lighting up the edges of her dress. The way her body moves!