Authors: Christian Warren Freed
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #New Adult & College, #Sword & Sorcery, #Arthurian, #Teen & Young Adult
Two long days and nights. That’s how long it took for the Hags to deliver their captive to the Dae’shan. Two long days and nights of claws gripping, wind biting, and no food. Her muscles burned. Body ached. She felt incredible pain that had previously been unimaginable. Maleela drifted in and out of coherence as the Harpies tirelessly sped north to what she had to assume was Delranan. Hope died. Once her father got his hands on her she’d endure a fate worse than death. Or so she supposed. Little did she know the Harpies’ true intent.
Unconsciousness mercifully claimed her, taking her down strange, twisted paths. The murder of Ionascu played out over and again. Disgusted with her actions, Maleela suffered through intense waves of guilt. She’d never wished to harm anyone before that point and still defended that he had forced her hand. She tried rationalizing the moment through denial and intent. Anything to ease the wounding in her psyche. Murder was murder, however, and no amount of self-justification mattered when it came to the blood permanently staining her hands. Worse, the more she focused on the way his face twisted with pain as her blade sank into his withered flesh, the way blood frothed and bubbled on the lips of the vile Man, the more she enjoyed it. Ionascu had been a worm of a Man who, in her opinion, served no purpose. He’d committed acts of treason as well as grave crimes against Maleela and the others. Death seemed appropriate.
She finally awoke. No longer dangling in the sky, the princess of Delranan lay on a cold, hay-covered floor. The darkness surrounding her was nearly pure and she panicked. Her foot lashed out, kicking over a small bucket filled with brackish water. She heard tiny claws scrambling out of the way. Rot and decay assaulted her senses and it was all she could do not to throw up. Her stomach growled, tightening from hunger.
“Poor Maleela,” a voice snarled from the dark.
Maleela cringed, immediately recognizing the bitter, acidic tone of Ionascu. The fact that he was already dead by her hands meant little in her current delusional state. Anger and fear washed together. Her fists clenched. “Go away!” she shouted.
Laughter mocked her. “I’ll never leave you, Princess. You took my life. That’s a debt I am going to relish repaying. A life for a life.”
“Leave me alone,” she said weakly. “I want to be left alone.”
“But you are alone. You’ve been alone from the moment you drew your first breath. Twenty years of suffering and neglect have made you into the hollow shell you are today. Unloved. Unwanted by her own father. What are you but a mockery of life? The gods should have seen fit to let you die with your mother.”
Maleela changed suddenly. Weakness left her, replaced by intense rage. She hadn’t asked for the hardships in her life. Nor did she wish to grow up without a mother. It wasn’t her fault her mother died during childbirth. Wasn’t her fault but she shouldered the blame from the beginning. She felt hate. She hated her father. Her dead brother. She hated Aurec for not being there when she needed him the most. Hated Bahr for abandoning all bonds of family out of cowardice. And she hated Ionascu for the intensity of despair he inspired deep within.
“Speak no more, worm! I killed you once and I’m glad of it. Speak again and I will plunge my knife into the memory of your very soul!”
The laughter faded, leaving her alone in the nightmarish darkness once again. Maleela collapsed into unconsciousness and knew nothing else.
“All too easy,” Amar Kit’han hissed. “Her mind is more pliable than I anticipated.”
Kodan Bak, ever lurking at his side with murderous intent, wasn’t convinced. “The purity of her soul will be difficult to break. She will not be so easy to turn.”
“I don’t need to break her, just bend her enough so she breaks herself. Chaos taints this family, Kodan Bak. Father and daughter aren’t so different. She will break and take his place at our side. The time is nearly upon us.”
Badron had been a useful puppet, as was Harnin, but they were never intended for anything other than mass confusion and the spread of chaos. Tasks which they performed admirably. Badron’s ill-directed war against neighboring Rogscroft plunged both kingdoms into inescapable war. Harnin’s subversion had been a pleasant side effect that further stole attention from the Dae’shan’s true efforts. Arlevon Gale needed to be prepared to receive the dark gods. No one thought to look to the abandoned ruins south of Chadra as both kingdoms tore themselves apart.
Each new death and act of torment released psychic energy filled with anguish that was drawn into the Olagath Stone. Once levels reached the appropriate amount the Dae’shan would be ready to unleash that raw power and open the nexus between dimensions. Amar Kit’han could feel the end of his centuries-long quest drawing ever closer. Lifetimes of failure, near misses, and regret were coming to a close. The time of darkness was fast approaching and he would be crowned a king once the dark gods returned to lay claim to the world. It was all so very near.
END
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Christian W. Freed was born in Buffalo, N.Y. He recently retired from a twenty year career in the U.S. Army. Armies of the Silver Mage is his first book for sale and was written during his tour of duty in Afghanistan. Much of the experiences and battle sequences in his novels come from his three tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan and a keenly developed understanding of military tactics. He graduated from Campbell University with a degree in history and is pursuing a Masters of Arts degree in Military History from Norwich University. He currently lives outside of Raleigh, N.C. and devotes his time to writing and to his family and their two Bernese Mountain Dogs.