Wizard of Elements Read online

  Wizard

  Of Elements

  CONTENTS

  PROPHECY

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  INTERMEZZO

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  PROPHECY

  A THREAT ARISES

  THERE IS ONLY ONE

  AS BLOOD SPILL

  NOTHING CAN BE DONE

  ENEMY TO ALLY

  ALLY TO FOE

  NO STRIFE TO BE WON

  GUIDED BY THE STAR

  AID BY A KEY

  TO STOP THE RISING HELL

  SHE MUST SACRIFICE ALL

  THROUGH A DYING SOUL

  PROLOGUE

  CARLAYLIN

  AT THE FALL OF LATE NIGHT, a thunderstorm had torn out across the town of Thorodan, dousing its streets and turning cobblestone streets into a warren of slick stones and muddy waters, the rain pounding down on the roofs of many.

  The origin from whence the town gained its name is a grim one. Before Thorodan was no more than the mere name of some measly town, it was the name of a great dragon, slayed long ago in this very town, by a fearless knight - Sir Daniel Percival. Thorodan was one of the most brutal, precarious and bloodcurdling dragons to ever walk the land of Ysellian.

  Thorodan had wings of flame, conjured from the very depths of hell itself, wreathed in a wicked red.

  Whenever the dragon roared its shrieking cries, fire blasted from its mouth, incinerating all in its path without even the slightest of sense of hesitation. Thorodan had the sharpest and largest fangs one could possibly imagine.

  Ancient legends have it that the dragon’s fangs were much bigger than that of any ordinary man’s heads.

  Written down in the ancient scrolls, hidden deep within the Great Library, it is said that the Elders classified the timeline reigned by this monster, the Age of Fire.

  People trembled whenever hearing the beast’s name, but nowadays they just didn’t seem to care anymore. It’s almost as if all history was lost and forgotten, swallowed by the passing of time, merely fragments of black on white - meaningless words. Some people might not even recognise the name Sir Daniel Percival. Not anymore, that is. When was history lost? But most importantly… When will this history return to the minds of people and regain its former value... and Sir Daniel Percival, getting the recognition he most likely deserves?

  The stone streets were never wetter in Ysellian. The skies were never darker, never cloudier as the storm clouds rid the world from the late evening sun’s orange tinge, blocking every single ray that tried to break through.

  Thunder rumbled loudly in the distance and lighting forked across the sky. Carts, pulled by many beautiful horses, came and went past the Sleeping Dragon’s Inn. The whole town’s marketing efforts were based on a dragon-like theme. Many of the elders of this small little town still remembered the old tales of dragons, but not all and certainly not the people just passing by. The occupants of the inn would share stories and old legends of once brave knights and adventures. They even shared stories of their own so-called brave deeds.

  I, Carlaylin, was always fascinated by these most interesting stories and would sit there and listen for hours. Once, though, I even caught a glimpse of a prophecy sung, but it wasn’t of my concern. Regrettably, most days, I was just too busy to sit down and envy their ceaseless exploits.

  I worked at the inn in order to have a plate of food every night and a roof over my head without charge. I didn’t exactly work for money…

  I couldn’t remember much from my childhood. Only that, when I was little, I was left on the doorstep of a woman’s house in the city of Hadrian. She took me in as her own and cared for me. Her name was Millicent… was Millicent.

  Everything went well. It was a pretty normal life, the life of a kid, but, one day, the king’s personal knights decided to show up…

  ***

  I was sitting on Millicent’s favourite wooden rocking chair in front of the warm fireplace, reading a book about how some wizards battled dragons during the ancient times. I always wanted to meet a wizard in person, but I could only dream about it. I heard that they never actually participated in battle concerning Ysellian. They kept their deeds to themselves and turned their backs on those who needed them the most, even rejecting the request to aid in battle by the king himself. ‘Stubborn’ might be the best word to describe them.

  I was but seven of age. I couldn’t say that I was reading exactly, more like looking at the pretty pictures and paging through with half a mind. I had brown gemstone eyes and terracotta skin with long, straight, light brown hair… I still do, don’t get me wrong. When I was little, I used to let my hair hang loose, free to rustle in the wind, but, these days, I was more prone to keep it tied up in a single high tousled ponytail, preferably with my signature fringes that so usually hung out of place.

  Yep, that’s me!

  All of a sudden, Millicent barged in through the door and grabbed my arm.

  “Come, my dear child! We must hurry!”

  At least I had a chance to grab my book.

  “Mother, what’s happening?” I had asked, confused. She didn’t say a word. We ran outside, but some of the king’s most valiant knights had stopped in front of our house, six of them to be precise, each mounted on their own horse. They stopped us from proceeding forward. It was pitch black outside, almost in the middle of the night. Millicent carried a torch. I quickly hid myself behind her left leg, peeping out to see what was happening. I recognised some of the men. Ulric, Fendril, Kilmore… I could hardly believe my eyes.

  I was in the presence of such heroic knights, but yet reluctantly remained frightened, trying at my hardest to subside the tremble at my hands. They wore shining armour of silver, the metal personally chosen and the patterns personally designed by the king’s personal tailor and blacksmith.

  All the same, something felt a bit off.

  I noticed their eyes. They was unnatural. Their eyes were completely white in some sort of a ghostly manner, met with a glassy stare.

  “Hand over your sibling!” the leader, most probably Ulric, demanded.

  “Leave my daughter alone!” Millicent yelled. To be honest, I didn’t know why they wanted to take me away from the only family I had. I had no idea whether I should have been honoured, or be even more afraid than I already was.

  Millicent grabbed me by the arm and we ran into the opposite direction with me accidentally dropping my book. Her grip on me was tight, almost hurting as a strong sense of panic most probably coursed through her veins.

  Oh, how we ran.

  I coul
d hear them calling from behind.

  “Stop! Hand her over in the name of the king!”

  I was absolutely horrified, and not to mention rather bewildered. What did I ever do wrong? Well, regarding that one time I kicked a knight in the shin. It wasn’t my fault he jokingly took my stuffed toy away from me. I made sure his joke didn’t stay funny for long though.

  The knights followed us from behind on their horses with their galloping hooves hauntingly echoing down the almost-deserted streets of Hadrian. When it was safe and we had lost them for the time being, Millicent hid me in some greenery, bushes and shrubs, just outside Hadrian’s local blacksmith’s workshop. The smell of metal and fiery coals clung to the still air.

  “Dear, I love you very much,” she started, “You know that, but….” I could hear the horses approaching. Millicent quickly studied her surroundings, wanting to finish her speech before it was too late. Millicent’s eyes glistened with tears. She gently stroked my cheek and forced a smile, trying not to cry in front of me.

  “I have to go. Just remember this and you will be fine: Use your powers for good and do not let others take advantage of them and or of you. Be careful out there. There are many willing to hunt you for your secrets. There are many allies and many willing to help you in this mad world, yet, also many enemies as well. You will never know who is truly what they say they are. Some may act to be your friend, waiting for the right time to strike. You may expect some to be your enemies, but are actually your true friends. You are very smart. Use that to your benefit to tell the difference. Now… stay here, close your eyes and don’t come out. No matter what you see or hear… keep yourself hidden until you know that it is safe. Good luck, my girl.”

  Millicent unnoticeably slipped a piece of paper into my pocket. I hadn’t noticed it until much later, yet never dared to open that letter, but I knew that I would have to eventually… sooner than I might think even.

  Powers? What powers? And what was that about secrets?

  Those were the thoughts that rushed through my mind at that very moment. I was left stunned and speechless.

  Millicent wiped a tear from her cheek and ran towards the open streets. I wanted to stop her, but I couldn’t disobey. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t.

  You know, I dare even say, I’m rather talented at hiding… and stealing.

  I don’t steal if that’s what you’re thinking! Well… maybe to survive... but… ahem.

  Millicent waved her arms to attract the knights’ attentions. She ran away with the knights shortly on her trail. She led them away from me, but didn’t get far in the process. Before I knew it… they had killed her, right in front of my eyes. The gruesome sight left a scar on both my heart and my mind. It somewhat cauterized my childhood, if anything. That scarred me for the rest of my life. I wanted to scream and just punch and kick those men where ever I could reach, but I decided to do as Millicent had told me and stayed completely still and hidden, otherwise this would’ve been all for naught. My thoughts were clouded.

  ***

  Luckily, the knights never found me and I escaped Hadrian, journeying all the way to Thorodan. I had promised myself that I would do anything I could to avenge my dear ole Millicent. She was just an innocent old lady. I still sleep with the fear that those knights would find me and perhaps kill me in my sleep one day, but I’m old enough to take care of myself now.

  Over the years I grew braver and stronger. I turned seventeen, soon to turn eighteen. I was about to change my fate of being the hunted to being the hunter.

  CHAPTER 1

  ALL GREAT ADVENTURES

  START AT AN INN

  CARLAYLIN

  I HURRIEDLY MADE FOR THE COUNTER and grabbed the tray stacked with hefty mugs filled with ice-cold liquor. I swiftly carried it to the five large men who ordered them, careful not to spill it. I left the tray with them.

  “Thank you, lass!” one of the men thanked and patted me on the head with his ape-like arm.

  I lent them a forced smile and returned back to the counter, trying to push pass all the other visitors crowding the inn, picking up an empty plate or two on my way.

  Absentmindedly, I passed three hooded men sitting at a table in the corner near the widened windows that were good for a view over most of Clogny Street. The men wore bronze shining armour, carrying a faint sheen from the candlelight. Dark cloaks and hoods accompanied their regal attire. Curiosity had grabbed a hold on me and urged me to stop and listen to their timely conversation.

  “I simply cannot bring myself to believe it. I told him not to do it. I told him it was a bad omen, but he didn’t listen. Now look at what he has gotten himself into.”

  I hid myself behind a nearby wall where they couldn’t see me.

  “Three words: The wizard’s wrath,” another man said. I couldn’t help but smile, eagerly biting down on my lower lip. I speedily peeped past the wall. Their long, silver swords were the first to catch my attention. I could only imagine a cut from such a thing…

  One day, that will be me, I thought to myself, full of self-confidence.

  “I know he’s a thief, but stealing the wizard’s spell book wasn’t necessary,” the third man said.

  Interesting…

  “Exactly! Besides, it won’t do him any good. He was not born with the gift to use magic,” said the first.

  Wizards and witches, warlocks and wenches, all powerful and magical beings. Come to think of it… I really hate witches. Well, not all of them. There are some really nice ones that I’ve met, but that was before they wanted to turn me into a three-legged chicken… It’s not my fault that they’re- sorry, got carried away. Long story. I prefer not to speak of it.

  “Althalos can’t be saved,” the third said stubbornly, crossing his arms and sitting back. “I know, but we have to at least try,” the second retorted, trying to talk some sense.

  My mind was left wondering to what exactly happened to the poor fellow.

  Unfortunately, I was a very curious girl.

  As though just on cue, thunder roared across the clouds, lightning splitting the dark in the distance.

  “Enough! This is no time for one of your foolish arguments. Cassius is right. We have to at least try to save Althalos before it’s too late. Who knows what fate awaits him,” said the first. I figured that the second man was Cassius then. The first one sat in the middle of the table. The third sat way to the left and, you guessed it, Cassius was way on the right. Perhaps there was a fourth. And the fourth might have been this so called Althalos…

  Just a guess.

  I didn’t know for sure yet. Putting puzzle pieces together is one of my specialities.

  The third seemed to be the testy and regularly livid, and perhaps rather violent, one.

  The first seemed of leader material, serious about everything, and surely the most courageous if you ask me. The second, Cassius, might just be the good hearted and kind one.

  Man, I’m good!

  “We need another ally if we were to begin this pursuit. War is nothing to be taken lightly,” the first spoke once more. I was eager to volunteer by instinct, but during times like these, it would be safer to stay quiet.

  “You’re right, Rowan,” Cassius admitted. “We do need help.”

  “What about your son?” the third asked.

  “Are you mad, Thomason?” Rowan was shocked by Thomason’s suggestion, gaping in disbelief.

  Hmm, I can’t lie. This Rowan guy really rocked that stubbly short boxed beard…

  “Why not? He has a lot of experience and he is old enough. Twenty one. He’ll be perfect.” Rowan slowly shook his head in scepticism.

  “No! I love Terrowin too much. He is my only son left. I refuse to send him into battle like this… Isn’t the contract enough to worry about?”

  Thomason glared ragingly at Rowan, his hands balling into fists.

  Uh…Someone’s going to die tonight. Mark my words!

 
Instead of flying into an uncontrollable and completely evitable rage, Thomason decided to calm himself. He took a quick breath, staring Rowan straight in the eyes.

  “Either way, you’re going to lose him.”

  Thomason’s tone was plain as he tried to point out the obvious. Rowan shot him a frantic look. Thomason knew better than to continue with the subject. Looking for cover, he quickly decided to change the subject.

  “Well, say goodbye to Althalos then.”

  Rowan was furious and would not stand to let Thomason continue like this. His blood seemed to boil.

  “What about a random stranger to help us? You know… Someone we could use as bait perhaps?” Cassius suggested.

  “That could work, but with a very high risk. Let us decide on that later, gentlemen,” Rowan decided and grasped his hands together, forming one fist.

  “What is our current plan?” Cassius asked.

  The group had a moment of silence before Rowan finally decided to interrupt the silence.

  “We can discuss the plans later. There are too many ears listening, for instance that young lass so heftily enjoying the conversation.”

  A shockwave ran through my heart and it skipped a beat or two as I had the anonymous feeling that the young lass might just be me.

  Dammit!

  I wasn’t sure what to do. I was rooted to the spot, panicking.

  Either I was pretty bad at eavesdropping, or Rowan truly had a set of keen senses little to no man possessed.

  I mean, seriously. One couldn’t even hear a needle falling in a loud clamorous inn such as this!

  Oh well, leave the explanations for some other time then, because right now I gotta run!

  Unfortunately, before I could, a sword jutted out towards me, acting as a personal blockade. It was Cassius. Damn, I had no idea just how fast a knight, or soldier in any matter, could be. His eyes were intently fixated on me, but he didn’t say a word. His expression remained solemn.