The Dragon Soul | Rise of the Black Dragon
Language: English
Published by AuthorHouse, 2010
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The Dragon Soul | Rise of the Black Dragon | Shane C. Mess | Taschenbuch | Kartoniert / Broschiert | Englisch | 2010 | AuthorHouse | EAN 9781449096946 | Verantwortliche Person für die EU: Libri GmbH, Europaallee 1, 36244 Bad Hersfeld, gpsr[at]libri[dot]de | Anbieter: preigu Print on Demand.
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- Title
- The Dragon Soul | Rise of the Black Dragon
- Author
- Shane C. Mess
- Publisher
- AuthorHouse
- Publication year
- 2010
- Condition
- Neu
- Binding
- Taschenbuch
- Language
- English
- ISBN 10
- 1449096948
- ISBN 13
- 9781449096946
- Item weight
- 628 grams
- Dimensions
- 229 x 152 x 23 mm
- Seller catalogs
- Bücher
"Synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The Dragon Soul
Rise of the Black DragonBy Shane C. MessAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Shane C. MessAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-9694-6
Chapter One
A Life LessonEyes look down at hands made sturdy and strong, quick with a sword and steady with a bow. Hands carved of calluses from hard labor, fingers stained brown from the digging of forest floors. Today those hands feel not so strong. Curled around Salamay's fingers sticking, to sweaty palms is a rolled up scroll delivered at his doorstep earlier this morning. The elf stands before the gates of his elders awaiting his meeting as he has been summoned.
On each side, he finds giant elf statues, each wielding in their hand a sword pointing to the stars. Tucked under their left arm is a stack of scrolls and books. The sword represents power and the books knowledge. "Without wisdom, one cannot obtain victory," a saying Salamay's people live and die by.
Finally, after waiting nearly an hour, he hears the gates come to life with sounds of grunts and squeaks. Many would consider this an honor to speak to the high elders but Salamay cannot help but feel a sense of discomfort.
Salamay calmly made his way through the courtyard of lush green plants and ripen trees. This is the only plant life growing in his home of Vonqway. Beautiful flowers bloom and twist around small statues of Elven children; vines crawl up and down the sides of vases and pots. The sound of fountain water trickles in his sensitive pointy ears. The over exuberant smell of the green life reminds Salamay of the forest sitting around the city right behind the Wall Of Melmeze.
The dirt path soon ended leading Salamay to a large round stone on the ground. Four pillars surround the circle; each wrapped and twisted with purple vines protected by sharp black thorns. As he approached, the stone symbols on the pillars came to life illuminating in bright blue energy, none of which he could understand. As he stepped onto the stone, the ground groaned with clunking sounds of shifting. Twisting plates rotated and unwound underneath his feet slowly lowering the stone into the ground.
Salamay fed his hand to the darkness trying to feel a wall or the ground. His hand felt nothing solid only causing little ripples of magic screaming in bright purples and blues.
Finally, after being lost in his train of thought, the glowing stone came to a stop. The only light that was glowing was from under his feet. After several seconds of waiting in the lonesome dark, a blue energy started to leak off the stone and quickly crept through the darkness. Twisting and crackling, the streams grew brighter, and brighter all coming together now to form a small blue ball of crackling energy. Suddenly a giant flash of light erupted across the dark. Salamay covered his face from the flash. When he opened his eyes, he found an enormous diamond crystal the size of a small house pulsating with blue energy.
One by one torches shot alive flickering with orange fire. The darkness soon vanished, leaving Salamay finding himself in a giant room molded of crystal and rock. Shelves and tables stood piled and over stuffed with scrolls and colorful potions and brews. On each corner of the crystal arose massive pillars four in all, sculpted out of the same crystal rock as the room. Looking at the ceiling he can see sharp jagged crystals growing like icicles.
"Welcome Salamay, loyal son of Vonqway and great warrior of the Mahorah." A raspy voice spoke from atop the pillar to his right. The pillars are much too tall, forcing Salamay to strain his neck just to glimpse the top. In the center an elderly elf sat Indian style with his hands in praying position. Eyes looked down upon the welcomed Mahorah.
The Mahorah are unlike their common cousins, who have hair dark as the night and eyes the color of the morning sky. The Mahorah's hair is grey as ash and eyes to match. Salamay wore his hair tight in a ponytail, traditional style of the Mahorah males. Falling loosely to the right side of his face is a good chunk of hair braided tightly in leathery straps with a small blue feather hanging from the bottom. The Mahorah are not people of fancy armor or charming jewelry, and the common wear is more robe and loose fabrics. Salamay wears a simple vest revealing his well-toned arms and chest. Revealed for all to see, is the scar that scratches deep across his left peck, all the way down to his belly button. An over sized black sash covers his waist that's holding up his baggy, grey robe like pants. Laced to his feet are soft black leather boots that are stained grey of soot from the volcanic dust scattered throughout the city.
Another trademark of the Mahorah is the love of tattoos, worn mostly by the warriors and the wise. Salamay is no exception, and wears his markings proudly. Spirals of black ink cover the left side of his face. The ink runs down his left arm spreading onto his chest decorating his peck.
Salamay knelt to one knee, bowing his head in respect to the elder perched on the pillar. "Rise warrior of Vonqway." The voice came echoing from the far left pillar. Staring up Salamay could roughly make out a face of long beard and sagging face.
"I have received your request of my meeting but I stand before you confused. You speak of my son." Salamay's eyes shifted to the elder on the closest right pillar. The elders' face is blank, motionless as if looking threw Salamay.
"Visions have been shown to us, we have spent many moons pondering what these visions could mean, like a puzzle they are, only partially fitted. A path your son must take, this we are sure of."
"Path, is he to become a warrior like myself?" A sense of pride over joyed Salamay's heart yet at the same time it frightened him.
"We have watched over you as you've trained the boy. Showing him the ways of the warrior. The bow and blade lie skilled in such young hands. However the boys' mind must be taught as well, when this is done he must come before us, only then can his path be decided." The final few words slipped from the elders tongue and the questions came swift to Salamay's mind but he knows the elders speak wise and pure.
"Then I will do my best to teach him all that I know."
"When we feel he is ready we will summon you once more. We wish you well, great warrior." The elders nodded their heads in farewell as the light in the room slowly died leaving Salamay alone once more in the dark. A trail of a blue glow led the way back to the stone and up he went. Left to so many unanswered questions he can only hope that in time he can begin to understand what it is the elders truly seek with his son.
........Four Years Later......
A blade falls quickly from Kimkay's left, and the young elf simply slapped the blade away with his own. Taking two steps to the right and on the third he threw a quick jab at his opponent. His blade found nothing more then air and was brought back to block a hard blow to the head.
"Come on you can do better then that old timer_" Kimkay slid the cocky remark half grinning. The feel of the windy breeze drifting through the forest feels good against Kimkay's sweating hands and face. The sound of flowing water drawing near tells him the battle has taken him deeper into the woods then he thought.
Kimkay dodged behind a giant oak just as a blade swung for his face. The sword sank deep into the tree trunk leaving it bleeding of sap. "You'll cut down the entire forest before your blade will ever lay a scratch on me."
"Your cockiness is your weakness Kimkay." The elders' words were brushed aside as Kimkay twirled his blade around his body and began swinging away. Attack after attack fell to the elders body all met by steel or slicing of air. "Arrogant you've become young elf. Now it's time to put you in your place." Kimkay jabbed his sword at the elders' torso but was reflected off to the side leaving him wide open for an attack. The elder seeing his opportunity takes the flat side of his blade and strikes Kimkay on the hip and follows through with a leg sweep knocking the young elf to the forest floor. When Kimkay's eyes came to focus, he found himself staring at the tip of a very sharp blade.
"You still have far more to learn young elf."
"I still have a few tricks up my sleeve old elf." Kimkay's blade came swinging out of nowhere knocking the sword away from his face. With a front handspring he was back to his feet, swinging flows until both swords collided to a stop. Steel grinded and creaked as the two stared into one another eyes. Both fight to maintain control of their weapon.
"You have become strong Kimkay but wisdom comes with time." The elder withdrew his blade sending Kimkay forward by his own force. The elder smacked the flat side of his sword along the young elf's back and then slid it between his feet knocking the dazed elf to the ground. Once again Kimkay found himself facing the sharp point of his opponent's blade but this time it rest heavily against his throat.
Salamay looked into the eyes of his son which were much like his when he was young, so much determination and energy but untamed and reckless. He looks so much like his mother with his sharp, smooth structures and pointy nose and innocent smile. It has been eight years since her passing, with a plague sweeping through Vonqway killing sixty Mahorah, from women to children none was spared to its cruel fate.
"Alright father you win, now help me up will you." Salamay snatched his son's wrist and yanked him to his feet. For being fourteen, Kimkay was short compared to other Mahorah children but this didn't bother him though, his skills in combat will well surpass any other children, including some of the Mahorahs older and best warriors.
"That's enough training for one day, now go run along and try to stay out of trouble." Kimkay's disappointing frown of failure turned into a most exciting grin. It's rare for his father to end training at such a early time, and the sun has yet to begin falling.
"Yes father, thank-you father." Most children would see this as an opportunity to go chase glinnen lizards or play stone gaze, a very confusing game of stones and magic. An elemental mind game played to exercise children's growing minds. Kimkay on the other hand prefers to venture off into the outer regions of Vonqway and into the deeper parts of the forest away from the city's volcanic dust and rock. So off he went from Vonqway and passing threw the Wall of Melmeze. Traveling deep into the forest, he took his favorite paths and shortcuts until coming upon a clearing in the woods.
Centered in the clearing is a small green pond screaming with crickets and other noisy bugs. A few small animals scurried off into the high brush as Kimkay made a mad dash for the canoe sitting on the edge of the water. Hopping inside he shoved his fishing poles to the side and took up a paddle. With just a few strokes the canoe reached the pond's center, his favorite spot.
From under a sheet he pulled out a rusty old tin full of wet dirt. He digs his fingers through the dirt until feeling something slimy. Yanking the wiggling worm free he poked it several times with a hook. Casting his line he leaned back looking past the trees to the sky leaking colors of red and purple. An orange tint melted the surrounding forest and a cool breeze blew through the warm air.
Kimkay loves the woods and its many secrets such as this pond. It is his treasure, only he and the woodland creatures know. But he does not understand why his people are so drawn to the volcano. Rock and dust is all he sees, not like the woods so full of life and adventure. His father has tried many times to explain why his kind has settled around the volcano something to do with the elders of the past, ancient secrets and holy beliefs but Kimkay cares not. He only wonders what's beyond the next tree or hill, what new treasure would be found that day.
He looks up to his father, his hero, the things he has seen, the battles he's fought. Many times had his father stared into the eyes of death and somehow contained his fear. The stories of his father's heroism spread all through Vonqway, from bar to bar, and late night camp fires. Even now at the age of two hundred and ninety-eight his father still holds the reputation of Vonqway's greatest warrior.
Scrounging around the boat Kimkay finds his harmonica, six wooden pipes tied together by sinew. Blowing into the pipes, he made soft soothing music. One by one tiny flashes of light bounced around the pond, fireflies were starting to come out from hiding. Now and then a giant bullfrog would let out its powerful croak and somewhere a bird sang its song high up in the trees. Kimkay's big grey eyes became heavy and dreary, soon enough he could not hold them open anymore. His head filled with dreams of battle and adventure.
Then a loud howl erupts through the darkness forcing Kimkay to awaken from his slumber. All around he sees nothing, only hearing the sounds of chirping frogs and singing bugs. "Oh no fathers going to kill me_" Kimkay realizes the night is terribly late and his father must be wondering where he has run off to. Kimkay yanked his line out of the water and grabbed hold of a paddle. Quickly he started to make his way back to shore.
A scream of pain hollered through the midnight breeze causing the chirping of wildlife to end. "What was that?" The boat creaked and moaned, he tried silencing the noise by grasping hold of the canoes sides to steady the rocking but it only made it worse. Once again the low howl came from the woods sounding like something was in terrible pain. Trees to the right started to shake as something was moving toward the pond and in a hurry. A tall dark figure came bursting out of the brush and tumbled onto the pond's bank, Kimkay ducked into the canoe hoping he hadn't been seen. His heart started racing nearly pounding out of his chest. His hand rests tensely on the handle of his blade, a warrior's instinct. Splashing and moaning the creature entered the pond's water.
"Alright Kimkay, get a hold of yourself, whatever it is it sounds injured." Sure enough peaking his head out from the canoe he finds a creature bleeding and tending to its wounds. "A saber." Often sabers have tried to crumble the Wall of Melmeze but have been unsuccessful. His father has led countless attacks against these desert dogs. Jealous of the Mahorah they are, seeing the elves as selfish and only wanting to keep the forest to themselves. Even such tall tales this is, the Mahorah has offered peace to the sabers, hoping it to be. Sabers however, are the selfish ones wanting more and more of the land, demanding territory and driving the Mahorah back to their volcano. The Mahorah gave the sabers one last peace offering feeling pity and knowing the harsh desert that surrounds the forest is not a place one should have to endure. The sabers, on the other hand were not wanting to share, they want the forest fruits for themselves and so came war. The war was short and in the end the sabers were banished from the woods. Now they live as exiles only to forage through the forest at night killing a few woodland animals and drinking from the river. None come close to Vonqway for fear of another great war.
The saber that has come before Kimkay has been severely wounded. Even through his thick coat of blue hair, a large gash can be seen splitting wide across his side and another sliding deep along its shoulder. The blood came pouring out like a small stream down his muscular body and into the water. The saber's breath came hard and slow, the cold night air exhaled from his dog like snout. Another moan weeps from the saber. The creature managed to pull his body halfway out the water before collapsing onto the bank. Soon the moaning ceased and once more toads and crickets chirped.
Kimkay remained silent letting his eyes focus hard on the fallen saber. The darkness started playing tricks on his eyes. He swears more figures are moving within the brush but nothing came and the blue beast remains motionless.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Dragon Soul by Shane C. Mess Copyright © 2010 by Shane C. Mess. Excerpted by permission.
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