Dark One Rising. Leandra Martin
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I laid eyes on her and presented her parents with Tanith, I felt it. There was no mistake in the sword’s song, and there was no mistaking the aura around her. She is indeed the one we have waited for. It seems your intuition was right about her. She is indeed the legacy we have waited for. The Tanith Prophecy has begun.”
“I was hoping I was not right, but fate cannot be altered. I do not know how she can do what needs to be done. The road will be long and hard, and a girl could not possibly be strong enough do what will be needed to rid this world of the evil that will come.”
“There was no mistaking the power that emanated from her. She has the power within her. She is just born, perhaps we should give it time.”
“We cannot interfere until the time is right,” Pyramus said.
“No, but when the time comes we will know it. There will be many years before the time she is needed. By then, we will be ready, and if she is not, we will know what to do.”
“You are wise, Tomaz Faolin. Keep a watchful eye on her. Do not make yourself known but keep her safe. She is our hope, the savior of Vallis, the savior of Aelethia’s future.”
Tomaz bowed to the elders. “I will do what is asked.” He turned from them and left the hut.
Many years later….
In a room only illuminated by ten candles in a old rusted candelabra, two figures moved about, casting powder into a large cauldron. One was young, with a muscled torso, black hair and matching goatee, with the dark eyes of someone who had seen more than he should have. The other old and grizzled, with gray hair hanging to his waist, and an even longer matching colored beard. His eyes were gray and wizened, his body stooped, but still spry.
Water bubbled from the pot in the center of the room, and there was an acrid smell that permeated the walls. The younger man was standing with his arms raised over the pot, eyes closed, chanting a spell in a language no one had spoken for centuries.
As he spoke, the gray haired man looked on, smiling proudly as he watched his apprentice perform the spell he had waited many years to teach him. The final lesson in his years of training.
The wizard was proud of his apprentice, so adept at the arts, almost more so than himself, and he could not wait to see what the world thought about their new nemesis.
The sorcerers had been cast out, sent away into hiding, never being able to show themselves to the world. And it had been that way for nearly five hundred years. The kings of the past decided the magic was too dangerous for the simple people, so they exiled the sorcerers to the far reaches of the land, never being allowed to join civilized society.
He was the last real sorcerer left, save for Sol, but he was of no consequence. All of the others like himself had died off or been killed by those who thought they knew better. They would suffer for their arrogance. He would have an apprentice that was more skilled than any that had come before him, an apprentice who could take over the world and avenge his teachers.
The younger man put down his hands and opened his eyes, now glazed over in a trance. He danced around the pot and the bubbles roiled higher.
Suddenly there was a glare of light so bright, they had to shield their faces against it. Then a tremor rocked the room, which shook the walls and caused some of the dirt and debris to loosen from the floors above. A crack appeared on one wall and moved quickly up and across the ceiling. The room shuddered again, and then a dark hole, encompassing almost the entire room, opened up. The pot fell through the floor, and then there was silence.
The two men, young and old, peered over the edge of the hole, looking down into the depths. There was light there, a reddish hued light that gave the room an eerie muted glow. There were noises coming from below, voices in a language that was undecipherable to a human ear. The old man smiled at his apprentice and placed a proud hand on his shoulder.
“You have done well, my son. You have brought the darkness to light. The pact with the Dark One is almost complete. You must now offer a sacrifice in order to obtain the full use of your new power.”
The younger man smiled back at his mentor, placing his hand on the old man’s shoulder. His lips split into a sneer, and his eyes turned darker.
“There is only need for one master in this world. I will be the one to avenge the dark sorcerers who were cast out of this land. I will take it where you left off and be the most powerful in history. Me and me alone. I thank you for your instruction and guidance, Cephus, but there can only be one master. I’m master now.”
He gave the old man a shove and pushed him into the dark hole. The ground shook again and the room rumbled. Debris fell from the ceiling again. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. A voice spoke from the depths, gargled and deep, like someone speaking through a mouthful of something sticky. “What is it you ask of me?”
The man knelt in front of the hole and hung his head. “I wish to be the ruler of this land, the ruler over all its people. I will avenge my dead brothers and take back what should have been theirs.”
“You have done well. For bringing me back into the light, I will reward you as you ask. You will need help to do so, and I will provide. Soon, I will tell you what you need to do in order to accomplish your goal. Do you pledge your eternal allegiance to me, Fallon Tab Rommel?”
“Yes. I will do as you command.”
“Good. Then prepare yourself as you have been instructed. Soon I will reveal all to you. Your soul is no longer your own. It belongs to me.”
“I hear you. It shall be as you instruct.”
There was laughter from somewhere below, shaking the walls and the earth under the man’s feet.
It was done. His deal with the Dark One was made. He would enlist the people of this kingdom to join him, and if they refused, they would perish. This world belonged to him now and everything in it as well. It was time for the reign of man to end, and the reign of gods to begin.
CHAPTER 1
Melenthia Eryn Breslin, Princess of Aaralyn, rode her horse across the meadow, the wind blowing back her long red hair which glistened in the setting sunlight.
She was dressed in her usual attire, riding pants and linen tunic, her knee high brown boots dusty from the afternoon in town, a small dagger tucked securely in her boot. Not an outfit that was most becoming a lady of nobility, but certainly more her favored attire, comfortable and plain.
The sun was going down and in an hour it would be dark. She was late getting home again and knew that her father would be angry with her for missing dinner with him again.
There were so infrequent warm days now, and she was determined not to miss any of them sitting inside a dark dank castle. Her father didn’t understand her need for freedom. He didn’t understand why she was always on the go. But then again, he didn’t understand her at all. He wanted her to be demure and ladylike, and she fought hard to be who she wanted.
The winter was hanging on, and it seemed to be getting here sooner each year. She wondered what was happening in her realm. Strange things were afoot, things she had no explanation for. Besides the shorter spring and summer, and the longer and colder than usual winter, there had been occurrences all over the realm that made her wonder just what kind of spell had been cast over Aelethia.
She had talked to some farmers in Tamerlane that showed her their fields of crops that had withered almost overnight, and she had ridden through Barden where people told her about the cattle that had died without any indication of sickness.
She reported everything she had seen and heard to her father, but he brushed it off as odd and nothing more.
There was more, so much more that she had seen and heard, but most of the other events were too weird for her to even mention to anyone, even her beloved brother Kevaan. She hardly thought that the events were normal, but she dared not spout off about them without sounding like a imbecile. Her father was already displeased