Kindle Edition
Amazon
davidpauly.com/Fourthage
Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: Kindle
ISBN-10: B01N1I1RON
Type: Fiction
Pages: 157
Copyright: November 20, 2016
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Ancient myths return to the real world where their history and magic are pivotal to the future of Nostraterra.
In their distant land of Platonia, the Gracies' ancient protectors, the Bubblers are dying; soon to vanish from the rivers and leave Platonia open to invasion. Only the Gemwings, mythical giant insects can restore the magic within the Well of Life, allowing the Bubblers to thrive once more. Four Gracies volunteer to search for the Gemwings but as Platonia is attacked, will they find the Gemwings in time?
Prince Daerahil frets in exile, unable to vanquish a terrible presence that stalks him and his men. Closer and closer a dark shape is seen, hunting his soldiers in the shadows of Plaga Erebus--the land of wounded darkness. Ambushed alone, Daerahil fights for his life and his soul, and is given a choice by the Vagwar, a centuries old blood drinker. Aid the creature in his maniacal revenge upon those who imprisoned him in the dark land and receive his aid in taking the kingship in return. Refuse the offer and fight the Vagwar to the death, risking his life and those of his men. What choice will Daerahil make and how will his decision affect the rest of those in Nostraterra?
Myths is the final installment in the The Fourth Age: Shadow Wars series, where the stage is set for the dramatic play that will enfold in the next series, The Fourth Age: Dark Shaman. Dark Shaman builds upon the characters and themes of Shadow Wars, as it takes the reader farther into the wonders and horrors of the magical realms of Nostraterra.
Excerpt
The next morning dawned clear and cool. Thick patches of fog appeared sporadically above the surface of the river. The current was swift and strong, and aided by a strong north wind, the Gracies soon reached the broader part of the river that was the ferry point between the eastern edge of Platonia and the outside world.
Instead of the usual ferry boats plying back and forth, there was a great noise and smoke. Booms echoed from the mists rising from the water, and distant shouts were heard. 'Clear the way!' cried Emedius, pushing the Gracie boat captain from his path as he leapt to the top of the small cabin for a moment to stare ahead.
'Captain, put us ashore immediately; crash the boat onto the bank if you have to,' Emedius demanded. Nearly a half mile above the fords, the boats lurched onto the western shore of the Beadle; the Gemwing boxes were retrieved from below, along with their belongings. Their horses were shoved none too gently into the shallow water and dragged up the side of the bank. Quickly mounting their horses, with the cages securely tied to Huw's mount, the Gracies found a game trail and moved south and west to meet the great road where it ended at the complex of docks and piers from which they had originally departed on this journey. Emedius shouted for them to follow as quickly as they could and ran before them faster than their short horses could manage in such rough terrain.
Reaching the fords, they saw a sight that astounded them. The river was boiling with the forms of the Bubblers and with swift boats filled with brigands who were trying to force their way across the Beadle. As soon as a boat was swamped or turned over, a glowing hissing ball would be flung from the brigands on the far shore. The ball would drift upon the waters for a few moments before it would explode with devastating force, spreading a greenish liquid that seemed to destroy the river spirits.
Blasting fire was known to the Gracies as a compound created by the alchemists of Men, but this green liquid that spread along the surface of the river was something wholly new. Where the liquid touched overhanging willow branches the trees immediately sickened and turned black. Fish by the hundreds floated to the surface, and other river creatures, including muskrats, otters, and even insects, suffered the same fate, covering the surface of the river in a terrible panoply of death. Nothing could come into contact with this terrible green liquid and survive, and the Gracies could see it steadily spread from the exploding balls tossed into the river. Clearly the Bubblers were losing this fight, the waters becoming calmer under the sickly green sheen as the brigands' boats, staying upstream of the poison, pulled closer to the shores of Platonia.
Emedius cried aloud in the Elven tongue for his fellow Elves to come to him. Twelve Elves arrived almost immediately, appearing as if out of nowhere. Emedius ordered five of them to defend the Bubblers with arrows, while he told another, Nirdan, an Elven wizard, to use his magic to attack the brigands.
'My Lord,' stammered Nirdan, 'I brought crystals for weather and healing, not for war. I do not know how I can be of help.'
'Do you not, Nirdan?' asked a clearly vexed Emedius. 'Many battles have been decided by weather. Prepare your magic accordingly and thwart the enemy as best you can. Trust that the air spirits whose magic is summoned and focused through all of our crystals will come to our aid. Here is the wand of healing that I brought with me. If I do not return, you must make certain these Gracies escape and that the boxes on these horses reach the Emerald Vale. The rest of you lay down arrow fire into the boats, but target particularly the alchemist of Men if you can find him. I will prepare the Gracies for our trip south.'
'But the Gracies refuse to let us use violence within their land and demand that we speak to the brigands instead,' replied the Elven Wizard.
'Did the Gracies try diplomacy first?' asked Emedius.
'Yes, Lord. Their messenger was killed, his headless body sent back tied to his horse. It was then that the battle began this morning,' replied the wizard.
'While I sympathize with our peaceful friends, Platonia cannot be lost. Nor can our mission fail. Do as I asked. I will address the Gracies' concerns in a moment,' said Emedius.
Fanning out along the river's edge, the Elves launched their arrows across the water, slaying the entire crew of three boats about to land in Platonia.
Meanwhile Nirdan removed a long staff from his pack, with a bright crystal on both ends of the staff. Hoisting it above his head, moving it in a complicated rhythm, he first began reciting the spell in his mind, compelling the air from which he drew his magic to come to his aid. A high-pitched tone of whistling wind arose, and the sound of rain upon the water was heard. Soon the deeper sounds of thunder and lightning commenced, emanating from the wizard as a blue-gray light began to envelop him from the very air. Clouds rushed overhead and began to build and rise, rapidly darkening the skies above the Elven wizard as his chants became audible. Soon the first drops of rain were felt from the towering thundercloud overhead, and a strong brisk wind began to blow out from the base of the storm hovering just over Platonia toward the boats, pushing them back across the river to the far shore.
Now bolts of lightning spattered down from the heavens to strike the near shoreline, running across the ground in actinic blue-white light too swift to be seen. Great cries went up from the brigand camp, and the balls hurled by the alchemist stopped.
The storm began drifting away, but then Nirdan brought the last of his power to bear, calling the clouds back to their place, as their task was unfinished. The lightning struck down more fiercely and desperately than before slaying more of the Men and driving their boats from the river.
This continued for some time, but then Nirdan collapsed in exhaustion, no longer able to hold his spell, his energy spent. No longer under Elven control, the storm began to fade, drifting off to the east in a torrent of rain, with one last cold squall pushing four boats filled with ten men each back against the shore.
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