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The Sceptre of Zanafiar - Chapter 3

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Hi all - I am a Goodreads author and this is my third children's book. My writing was heavily influenced by my late nan and following her passing I have decided to provide free access to my book in weekly installments with the kind permission of Goodreads. The second chapter is below - I hope you enjoy it!

The Sceptre of Zanafiar

CHAPTER THREE: THE SCATTERING OF THE GEMS

As soon Dravas left the room to go and bring Darius back, Caveros sat back down, resting the precious sceptre on the silk of his purple tunic, his black cloak pushed aside.
“Mine! The sceptre is mine,” he chuckled to himself. “And quite rightly so.”
Dravas had been right about one thing. He, Caveros, did not have the brilliant abilities of his cousin. And why? Because Dravas had been given all the help and advice he had needed when they were growing up – he’d even had the power of the elemental sceptre to assist him. He had become the ruler of Zanafiar, Master Elementalist and Keeper of the Sceptre, not to mention the most powerful person in the land. What did he, Caveros, have? Nothing. The ne’er do well of the family, he’d studied conjuration in the Village of Enchantment for a while, but he’d been totally useless – everything he’d conjured had come out wrong. Then he’d spent a few years working as an apprentice to an old hag of a sorceress in Parthras, and even she’d eventually grown tired of his lack of ability and thrown him out. Even to this day, anything more complex than a very basic spell – and sometimes even those – would go wrong for him. But now he had this new power, he could control the whole of Zanafiar. He lifted the sceptre again and gazed at it in wonder.
“Finally, I have power,” he said, stroking the sceptre. “I’m sorry, Dravas, dear cousin, but from this day forward the sceptre stays with me. You’ve had your time as ruler and now it’s my turn. Find your son, bring him back…but he will never be Keeper of Th –”
“Caveros! How could you?” Dravas’ voice suddenly boomed out and he swept back into the room, his eyes darkened with anger.
Caveros’ heart hammered in his chest, and he looked at his cousin in horror. “D-Dravas. I thought you had gone. I was –”
“I came back to speak with you before I departed, only to hear you planning your treachery against me, your own cousin…” Dravas shook his head, a look of despair etched on his face.
Caveros stared in bewildered silence for a moment. Then he narrowed his eyes, and a twisted smirk formed around his mouth. Why was he nervous? He held the sceptre! There was nothing that Dravas could do to him now.
“I will be the Keeper of The Sceptre from now on, Dravas,” he said defiantly. “I‘ll not let you take this away from me…ever. It is mine now, and for the first time in my life I will be the one with power instead of you. And I think I’ll start by summoning one of the king elementals and have them banish you … perhaps to Necron, with your old friend, Meerol. The perfect sol –”
“I can save you the trouble of summoning any of the elemental kings,” Dravas interrupted. “They should all be arriving here within moments.”
“What do you mean?” Caveros glared at his cousin. “How can the elemental kings appear without me, the new Keeper of the Sceptre, summoning them?”
“I’m afraid the sceptre is no longer yours, Caveros,” said Dravas softly.
“Of course the sceptre is mine,” scoffed Caveros. “I have it right here in my han –”
As he looked down at the sceptre he frowned. The gems, all seven of them, were glowing fiercely. Something was wrong. He looked back up, his hands feeling cold and clammy with nerves. To his horror, a semi-circle of figures had materialised before him, many of them huge and fearsome looking. Caveros shrank back as he realised who – or what – they were. The elemental kings.
The first figure stepped forward. It was a giant humanoid, semi-transparent in appearance, with what looked like a dragon’s head and vast wings. On the ends of its hands were large, deadly-looking talons. Caveros watched in stunned silence as it opened its huge hand, and the air gem detached itself from the sceptre and floated to the beast.
The second figure, a giant merman with a scaly silver-blue tail, seemed to glide forward. As it opened its hand, the water gem floated forward and into its palm, leaving a second gaping hole in the handle of the sceptre.
The third elemental king was in the form of an ogre-like beast, made of pure rock. The ground vibrated as it thudded forward to claim the earth gem from the sceptre.
One by one, the other figures stepped forward and claimed the gems of their element or force. A huge being made up of leaping flames reached out with a fiery hand to take the fire gem. A wooden figure, with branches for arms and legs, opened its leafy hand and the nature gem floated into it. Then a dazzling creature of pure light – Reflector – stepped forward and took the purple reflective gem.
Finally, a beautiful woman floated forward. It was the White Necromancer – the spirit princess, from the Realm of the Dead. She was dressed in pure white, and as she opened her hand, the last gem, the white necromantic gem, floated into it.
As soon as the necromantic gem made contact with the princess’ hand, all of the beings closed their hands with the gems enclosed. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they had gone, leaving Caveros standing there open mouthed. All that remained in the place where they had been standing was a small white book.
“As I said, the sceptre is no longer yours, Caveros. And it is now no longer mine.”
Dravas’ voice brought Caveros to his senses and he snapped his mouth shut.
“This was a safeguard,” continued Dravas. “One that not even you knew about. There were additional elemental forces protecting the sceptre, so that, as long as I was alive, if I was ever insane enough to entrust it to one who intended to misuse its powers, the elementals would take the gems from within and scatter them, thus rendering it useless. All you hold now is a simple, ordinary sceptre – one that you or I or anyone else can hold.”
As though to prove a point, Dravas stepped forward and simply took the sceptre from him.
“It is a situation I hoped would never occur.” Dravas sighed. “I never thought that I would be foolish enough to give the sceptre to someone that was not worthy of my trust. It will be an arduous task to find the gems.”
“F-Find the g-gems?” asked Caveros shakily.
“Yes, find them. Nobody, not even I, knows where the gems are now. They have been scattered all across the land. They could be anywhere from right here in Parthras, to the deepest caves in Malborious. The only one who will be able to touch them or use their powers now is the next rightful Keeper of the Sceptre – my first-born son, Darius.”
“But you gave the sceptre to me,” bleated Caveros.
“It was your selfish thoughts and intentions caused the elemental kings to scatter the gems,” said Dravas, sinking down onto one of the chairs, his head buried in his hands. “You have so disappointed me, Caveros. To think I would have trusted you with my life if necessary…”
“I’m truly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It was the sheer feeling of power – a moment of pure insanity. I would never have really done anything foolish whilst I had the sceptre. Please forgive me,” begged Caveros.
“It does not matter now. It is too late. The gems are gone and the only way I can find them is to go in search of them with Darius.”
“But however will you know where to start?” asked Caveros. “The gems could be anywhere. What if they’re found by somebody else before you reach them?”
“Like I said before, nobody else can use or even touch the gems now, except for Darius. Wherever they are, they will remain until he finds them. And this” – Dravas stooped and picked the small, white book that lay where the elemental kings had appeared minutes earlier – “will help us find out where the gems are hidden.”
Caveros looked curiously at the book and then back at Dravas.
“Are you going to bring Darius back here to the castle first?”
“No, I cannot do that. Darius’ only way back to Zanafiar from the human world was the same way that he left – with the help of the king air elemental’s power. That is why I came back to speak with you – to ask you to remain at the castle with the sceptre until we returned, so that I could bring my son back here. But now…now that I have no way of summoning the creature…his only way back is through this.” He held up the book in his hand. “I will leave the book for Darius, and only when he is good and ready to begin this quest will it transport him to the place where the journey must begin.”
“Leave the book for him? Aren’t you going to give the book to him yourself?”
“No, he cannot have any contact with anyone from this world until he arrives in Zanafiar. The book will only transport him when, deep down in his own heart, he feels ready to leave his life behind and return here to fulfil his destiny. Until then, he can know nothing of Zanafiar’s existence,” replied Dravas.
“But how will you know where the book has taken him – and when it will transport him? Surely you do not intend to let Darius undertake this quest alone?” asked Caveros frowning.
“As the deliverer of the book I will automatically be transported to the starting point of the journey at the same time as Darius. I will be there to meet him and help him throughout this quest,” explained Dravas. “But I do not know when it will happen. For all I know, he may never be ready to leave the other world behind and come to Zanafiar. The gems could remain hidden forever, and I may never be able to bring my son back home.”
“I’m so sorry, Dravas. Were it not for me, you might have been reunited with Darius by now. Please forgive me,” begged Caveros, becoming tearful. He gave Dravas an anguished look, and saw his cousin’s face soften.
“You are my only family until Darius returns,” said Dravas gently. “So I do forgive you, Caveros. The power contained within the sceptre was too much for you to resist. It has corrupted many a good man before now and, no doubt, will do so in the future.” He tucked the book and the sceptre under his arm. “Come now, I must deliver this book to my son.”
Caveros followed Dravas out of the room and into another, larger room on the opposite side of the hallway. As they entered, Caveros gasped.
“Dravas…what is that?” He pointed towards the hazy patch of mist that lingered in the middle of the room.
“Why, that is the gateway. The gateway that will take me to the human world – to the place where Darius is,” said Dravas, looking wistfully at the mist. “I thought that when I returned my son would be with me, but that will no longer be possible. I will have to return alone.” He turned back towards Caveros. “I must leave now. I will return in due course.” As he turned back towards the mist, Caveros cried out to him.
“Wait!” He quickly walked over to where Dravas stood.
“What is it?” asked Dravas, looking puzzled.
“Take care, Dravas.” Caveros smiled, throwing his arms around his cousin and hugging him tightly.
“Goodbye, Caveros, and do not worry. I will return as soon as –” began Dravas. He suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and pushed Caveros aside. “What’s happening? Wh-what have you d-done?” he whispered.
Caveros watched silently as the patch of red spread across the middle of his cousin’s white tunic. Then, before Dravas had a chance to utter another word, he stepped forward and, raising the bloodstained knife in his hand, thrust it into him once more, twisting it until it sank in to the hilt.
“I’m sorry, Dravas, but you were wrong. The sceptre will be mine. I will be the one to deliver the book to your precious son and to take the sceptre from him when he has found all of the gems. And then I’ll simply kill him. Once there is no rightful keeper left alive, all the protective forces will be broken and I can do as I wish without risk of the gems disappearing again.” He watched as Dravas sank to his knees, the book and sceptre slipping from his hands and falling to the floor.
“Caveros…wh-why?” gasped Dravas, struggling for his final breath. The final breath came and then he was still.
Caveros knelt and picked up the book from the floor. Skimming through it quickly, he found that the pages were all blank. He was puzzled for a moment, but then shrugged. From what Dravas had said, whatever the book was going to do, it would happen when it was in Darius’ possession.
Taking it over to Dravas’ desk, he loosely wrapped it in some brown packaging – the last thing he wanted was for it to get damaged after all the trouble he had gone to. As he finished wrapping it, he caught sight of a small bottle of red liquid on Dravas’ desk. Picking it up, he scanned the bottle.
“Deceiving eye potion – works for up to four hours,” he mumbled as he read the label. He turned the bottle around and read the back label:

‘An invisibility potion with a difference…and with hilarious results. Simply put a drop of the potion onto any item, and speak the name of the person whom you wish to trick. Then sit back and watch the fun. No other, except for the one whose name you have chosen, will be able to see the item. With this ingenious potion, which works for up to four hours, you’ll have your friends wondering whether their eyes are deceiving them!’

Caveros shook his head. “Dravas, Dravas … you were the most powerful man in the land, and yet you still insisted on buying these novelties from the brewers’ stalls.” He sniggered. “Still, might just come in useful.”
He slipped the bottle of liquid into his pocket. Then, pushing back the unruly strip of silver-streaked hair, which had fallen over his eye again, he pulled his black cloak around himself, tucked the brown paper parcel under his arm and stepped through the grey swirling mist.

CHAPTER TWO: THE RULER'S COUSIN

The wizened old man sat in his armchair slowly stroking his long white beard and staring thoughtfully into the open fire.
It would be only hours now before he would at last see his son again. Then he, Dravas, could begin teaching Darius, equipping him with all of the knowledge and wisdom that, some day, he would need to take over from him as Master Elementalist and ruler of all Zanafiar.
His eyes flickered upwards and rested on the golden sceptre that lay in the gold-encrusted glass case mounted on the wall and, sighing, he wondered what life would have been like without the responsibility of being its keeper. Sometimes…just sometimes…he wished, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t blessed … or cursed … with this legacy. It was such an honour to be Master Elementalist and Keeper of the Sceptre. It made him the most powerful being in the land, not to mention ruler of Zanafiar. And yet it was a responsibility that had been the cause of the most tragic time of his life: the death of his wife, Arrianne, and the loss of his son, Darius.

Hundreds of years earlier Dravas’ ancestor, Rufius, had been the Head of the Council of The Elements, a powerful group of elementalists who, between them, governed and ruled Zanafiar fairly and wisely.
These six elementalists were the first in Zanafiar with the ability to summon and control elemental creatures – earth, water, fire, nature or air. Rufius was a particularly powerful elementalist and was able to summon and control not only all of the elementals, but also healing spirits from the Realm of The Dead and reflective beings from the Plane of Light.
Each of the elementalists on the council had taken an oath never to abuse their powers. To enable future generations to benefit from their abilities, they enlisted the help of a sorcerer and each had their power transferred into a jewel, thus creating seven powerful elemental gems, which after their deaths could be handed down to each of their descendants.
There were seven gems in all. The council elementalists created the five elemental gems –earth, water, fire, nature and air. A further two additional gems were created by Rufius. The reflective gem gave its user the ability to summon a glass imp from the Plane of Light. These imps were able to deflect many spells and weapons that were being aimed at the holder of the gem. The white necromantic gem gave its user the ability to summon various healing spirits from the Realm of the Dead.
Each of the jewels was powerful when used alone, and could summon fairly strong elementals depending on the user’s ability. But when used in conjunction with the others, the extent of power and control over the elements was much greater. Together, the gems could summon even king elementals, giving the user ultimate power and control. The reflective gem, when used with the others, was able to summon Reflector, a being from the Plane of Light, who could deflect any spell or weapon away from the holder of the gems. The power of the white necromantic gem, when used alongside the other six jewels, was so great that it could summon the White Necromancer, a spirit princess from the Realm of The Dead, who was able, in some cases, to grant the gift of life.
However, the power contained within these stones bred greed, and, in time, the five council elementalists became consumed and corrupted. They began to misuse the gems for their own benefit, even summoning elemental creatures to fight amongst themselves.
Rufius, a good and fair ruler, had then decided that it was too dangerous to leave such powers with those that were so easily corruptible. He stripped the five council members of their responsibilities and became the lone keeper of the gems.
Alone, Rufius continued to rule Zanafiar fairly and wisely. He encrusted the gems into the handle of his own golden sceptre, which served as a portal for the combined power of the seven stones. From then on, it became known as The Sceptre of Zanafiar. Protected by many powerful elemental forces, it was handed down over the years to the first-born of his direct descendants, who each took over as Master Elementalist, ruler of Zanafiar and Keeper of The Sceptre.
Dravas, like his ancestors before him, had inherited this legacy and had been a good, fair and powerful ruler. But he had an enemy – a dark elementalist named Meerol, a descendant of one of the disgraced council members. Meerol had tried to lay claim on the sceptre and had even tried to steal it, unaware that it was protected by very powerful elemental forces and could not be touched by anyone other than its rightful keeper. The only way the sceptre could be used by another was if the rightful keeper willingly gave it, or if its keeper died or disappeared, in which case the protective elemental forces would be broken.
Meerol’s plans to steal the sceptre had failed, but the evil elementalist had not given up there. She sent her armies of followers to capture Arrianne, Dravas’ beautiful dalkien wife, and held her to ransom, threatening to kill her if the sceptre was not handed over to her. But by the time Dravas found out, it was too late. Meerol and her armies had already cruelly thrown Arrianne into the acid Devil’s Sea, taking the most precious thing in his life. With no body to resurrect, not even the power of the white necromantic stone could bring his wife back.
Dravas was left alone to take care of their newborn baby, Darius, who was only a few days old. Grief-stricken, he swore that he would never allow anything to happen to his son.
Using the power of the sceptre, he banished Meerol to the Dark Fortress on the island of Necron, which was surrounded by the deadly sea that had taken Arrianne’s life. He called upon the king air elemental to keep the dark elementalist imprisoned, so that if she ever tried to escape, powerful air elementals would immediately appear and cast her into the Devil’s Sea. But he knew that Meerol had followers and he could not take any risks where the safety of his son was concerned.
It was then that he had decided that Darius would have to be sent away for his own safety, at least until he was of age to begin learning to summon and control the elements properly to protect himself. With a heavy heart, he had summoned the king air elemental once more, and commanded it to create a gateway to send Darius into another world …the human world.

Dravas wiped away a single tear that had trickled down his face as he remembered the tragedy that had taken place fourteen years earlier, when his family had been torn apart.
“Dravas. Dravas.”
A voice broke through his thoughts and he turned to face the tall figure that approached him. It was his cousin, Caveros.
“Ah, Caveros. Please, sit down.”
Caveros gave him a slightly wary smile and, pushing back his jet-black hair, which had a streak of silver running through it near the front, sat down in an armchair next to him.
“You seem deep in thought,” he said, looking enquiringly at Dravas.
“Yes, Caveros, I was. I was thinking about Darius. He has been in the human world for fourteen years now, and it is time for him to return to me to start learning so he can claim his inheritance.”
“Yes, I know. You must be overjoyed.” Caveros smiled thinly and then narrowed his piercing emerald eyes. “But do you think it is safe for him to return here? I mean, what if – ”
“He must return to Zanafiar now. I have waited long enough already to be reunited with him. The reason I asked you here today was because I need your help.”
“Help?” Caveros looked surprised. “Of course, I’ll help you in any way I can but I do not have the power that you do, Dravas, so I’m not sure I can be of much assistance.”
Dravas couldn’t help chuckling. “Yes, I realise your abilities are, er – shall we say, limited? Why, I don’t think I can remember you ever managing to cast a spell correctly, even when you were studying sorcery and conjuration in the village.” He chuckled again, but then his face took on a serious expression. “However, ability or no ability, you are my cousin – my own flesh and blood – and I would trust you with my own life. This is why I need your help.”
Caveros frowned, clearly unsure as to what kind of help the elementalist was referring to.
“It is the elemental sceptre, Caveros.” Dravas sighed. “As you know, it cannot be taken out of Zanafiar, and should its keeper leave Zanafiar, the forces that protect it will break and then anybody could take it. This poses a great problem for me.” He looked earnestly at his cousin, whose eyes had now swivelled in the direction of the sceptre.
“What can I do to help?”
“I wish to leave Zanafiar to fetch Darius back to this world. I do not know how long I will be gone – it may be minutes, it may be hours, it may be days. But however long it is, I cannot risk leaving the sceptre here unprotected.” Dravas stood up and placed a hand on Caveros’ shoulder. “You are like a brother to me, Caveros, and you are the only one I can trust to protect the sceptre whilst I am gone. Would you be willing to do this?”
Caveros’ eyes widened in obvious amazement.
“Of course! Of course I‘ll help you. You know you can trust me, Dravas,” he gasped, his eyes shining with excitement.
“Good, good. That is a great weight off my shoulders.” Dravas walked over to the case that held the sceptre, his white cloak swishing around his ankles.
The case sprang open as soon as his fingers touched it, and he removed it from within. Then he walked back towards Caveros, whose gaze was fixed firmly on the sceptre.
“I have already called upon the air elementals. They have recreated the gateway – the rip through the dimension, which I sent Darius through so many years ago – to take me to where my son is. When I bring him home, you will return the sceptre to me and I can begin to teach Darius all that he needs to know to succeed as my heir and as its keeper. Until then…” Dravas sighed and slowly extended the sceptre towards his cousin, who stood up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Until then, I give this to you with my blessing.” As Dravas finished these last words, the sceptre rose up and floated a few inches above his hands.
Caveros immediately stepped forward and seized it, gasping in amazement.
“I can touch it, Dravas! I am now the Keeper of The Sceptre and Master Elementalist!” He laughed wildly as he held the jewel-encrusted staff of office.
“Only until I return, Caveros. You must give it back to me when I return,” Dravas prompted.
“Yes, yes, of course, only until you return,” said Caveros, the sparkle of the gems reflecting in his eyes.
“Thank you. I know you will not let me down. Now, I must go and bring back my son.”
Dravas left the room, and entered one of doorways on the opposite side of the hallway. His stomach was churning with nerves at the thought of seeing his son again after so many years. What would he look like? What would he think when he, Dravas, suddenly appeared? His mind raced with thoughts as he walked towards a patch of mist in the middle of the room. Then something suddenly occurred to him. He had to ensure that Caveros remained at the castle with the sceptre until he returned with Darius. His son would not be able to re-enter Zanafiar without the presence of the king air elemental – after all it was the power of this elemental that had enabled him to leave Zanafiar as a baby.
“I’d better go and speak to Caveros,” he muttered, as he looked longingly at the misty gateway before him, knowing that his long lost son was waiting on the other side.

Learn about Zanafiar at http://renocharlton.com/learn-about-z...

The Sceptre of Zanafiar: Chapter One

Chapter One
A GIFT FROM A STRANGER

In the early hours of the icy cold January morning, nobody was around to witness the arrival of the stranger. The cloaked figure materialised, seemingly from out of nowhere, halfway up the driveway of Little Burton Children’s Home.
He observed his new surroundings with a sense of wonder for a moment, as the wind danced around him, whipping the bottom of his cloak around his legs. Then, pulling his hood up over his jet-black hair, broken by just a single streak of silver near the front, and tucking the small parcel firmly under his arm, he headed determinedly up the driveway to the front door and raised his hand to knock, but then quickly lowered it again. He could not let the boy see or speak to him – Dravas had said that he must not know of their existence. No, the first thing to do was to ensure that the boy received this parcel…the rest would take its course naturally.
Taking it from under his arm, he frowned, focussing his bright green eyes intently on the parcel. He had to ensure that Darius – or William, as he was known in this world – was the only one who would find it.
After a few moments’ consideration, he took a small bottle from the pocket of his cloak. Unscrewing the cap, he dotted a little of the blood-red liquid onto the package, hoping fervently that the effects of the potion wouldn’t wear off before Darius came across the parcel. All would be lost if it was found and taken by anybody else.
Holding the package up to face level, he muttered, “Darius, son of Dravas.”
As he put the bottle back into his pocket, the package glowed momentarily and he smiled to himself. Safe in the knowledge that nobody, other than Darius, would now be able to see the parcel – for a while, at least –he placed it outside the door, propped up against the wall.
“Do not fail me, Darius,” he whispered into the wind.
Then he swung around and walked briskly back down the driveway. About halfway down, much to the alarm of a passing dog, he winked totally out of sight.

*******

William Dolman sat perched on the end of his bed, listening to the laughter of the other children from the garden, where most of them had congregated. They were just starting a Saturday afternoon game of football, and William, as usual, hadn’t been invited to join in.
He got up and walked towards the bedroom window, pausing as he passed the mirror on the wall and gazing at his reflection. Two deep-blue eyes stared back, set in a small, pale face with a rather too large nose and a head of unruly straw-coloured hair. A great fourteenth birthday this was going to be – just like all the others: stuck on his own all day, with no presents, no cards and no friends or family to celebrate with.

Having been found abandoned as a baby, William had been adopted at an early age. Things had been great for some years, and he’d loved his adoptive parents, Oliver and Susan Dolman. But when William was just seven, his adoptive father had died following a heart attack. A couple of years later his mother decided to re-marry, and that’s when things had started to go downhill fast.
Her new husband, Stuart, who wouldn’t even allow William to refer to him or think of him as a father figure, but insisted on being called ‘Uncle Stuart’, was a bad-tempered man, and spent most of his time drunk. A few days before William’s tenth birthday, his mother had walked out, leaving him to the mercy of Uncle Stuart.
Several months later, they had been contacted by the police, who informed them that Susan Dolman had been killed in a road traffic accident. William had been devastated – she had never even contacted him. He stayed with Uncle Stuart for a while longer, doing all of the cooking and cleaning, and generally running the house, whilst his uncle proceeded to drink more and more.
Later that same year, Uncle Stuart had decided to move away – making it quite clear that he had no intention of taking William with him. As a result, William had been put into care and had spent the last few years in various children’s homes.
He had been moved to Little Burton Children’s Home a little over a year ago. For some reason, the most popular boy at the home, Daniel Bentley, had taken an instant dislike to him, and had soon turned the other kids against him as well. They never asked him to take part in any games – in fact, most of the kids wouldn’t even talk to him unless it was to make some nasty comment. William spent most of his spare time hiding away in his poky bedroom, reading.

As he continued to the window he flicked on the CD player and the melancholy tones of Nirvana's 'The Man Who Sold the World' filled the room. This had been his mother's favourite band and whilst William wasn't old enough to remember them, he had kept some of her CDs and often listened to them in the confines of his room.
Gazing out at the large group, he wished that, just once, one of them would ask him if he wanted to join in. As he stood watching, Daniel Bentley suddenly looked up and pointed towards him. Then he turned and said something to the rest of the group, and they all looked up and began laughing and pointing. William quickly moved away from the window. He didn’t know what Daniel had said to the others, but he could imagine.
He stared down reproachfully at the webbed skin between the fingers of his right hand – the butt of many a joke amongst the other children, who had taken to calling him ‘freak’. They didn’t even refer to him as William any longer – not unless any of the staff were around, at which point they’d suddenly pretend to be well behaved and polite. Daniel had a particular knack of convincing the staff at the home that he was sweetness and light.
William had received many a scolding from the Senior Carer, Miss Westwood, who always seemed to believe Daniel over him – like the time when Daniel had decided he didn’t want to finish his history assignment. He’d intentionally spilled a bottle of ink all over his half-finished coursework, and then blamed William, saying that he’d knocked it over on purpose. Miss Westwood had refused to believe that William was innocent, and had forced him to do Daniel’s assignment for him as a punishment.
On another occasion, Daniel, and one of his friends, Neil, had been kicking a ball about in the garden, and put one of the kitchen windows through. They’d immediately run back inside, and then persuaded all the other kids to say that they’d seen William do it. Once again, Miss Westwood hadn’t believed William when he denied it, and he’d been duly punished.
It was the same whenever Daniel and his friends picked on him, bullied him, and blamed him for things, which was regularly. Miss Westwood always took their side, and seemed to think that Bentley couldn’t put a foot wrong – and William always ended up getting the blame.
The sound of the teatime bell broke into William’s thoughts. He didn’t particularly want to go down, but he knew that if he didn’t, Miss Westwood would come looking for him. She was a stickler for everyone being seated for meals on time.
He made his way downstairs, and into the dining room, where the kitchen staff was busy serving tea. The other kids had already piled in from the garden and taken their seats. Miss Westwood was nowhere to be seen as yet.
“Here he is, the guest of honour!” cried Daniel, as William walked over to the table. “Having a good birthday, freak?”
William glanced at the tall, dark-haired boy, and then looked nervously down. “The name’s William.”
“Ooh, I think you’ve offended him, Dan,” said one of the girls, Molly, giggling. “Why don’t you give him our present?”
“Of course, I almost forgot!” Daniel produced a small box from under the table, “Happy birthday, big nose!” As he finished the sentence he made a honking noise and squeezed his nose between his finger and thumb several times.
William stared at the box. He didn’t even like to imagine what was in it. “You can keep it, whatever it is.”
“Come on, freakazoid. Don’t be so ungrateful,” said Neil, snatching the box from Daniel and throwing it over to William.
It landed in William’s lap, and, trying to be brave, he picked it up and threw it back towards Neil and Daniel. Unfortunately for William, he was not a good aim, and the box sailed over the boys’ heads and straight towards Miss Westwood, who was just entering the room, armed with a silver tray with a sorry-looking sponge cake on it. As the box hit the cake, the lid came off, and William watched in horror as the contents spilled out all over the sponge. Worms. Lots and lots of worms.
“Aarggh!” Miss Westwood screamed, and dropped the tray, the worm-topped cake splattering all over the carpet. Then she glared up at William, her face red with anger. “William Dolman! How dare you!” She strode towards him, her eyes bulging with fury.
“I-I’m sorry, M-Miss Westwood. I didn’t mean t-to –” began William, at a loss for words.
“I suppose you’re going to try and pin this on poor Daniel as well aren't you? Well, you were caught red-handed this time. I go to the effort of buying a birthday cake for you” – Miss Westwood pointed towards the mess on the floor – “and this is the gratitude I get. Well, you can clean that mess up immediately. And don’t think you’ve heard the last of this, my boy.”
As Miss Westwood stomped back out of the room, the other kids all burst out laughing.
“Oh dear. That wasn’t very clever,” teased Daniel.
“Why don’t you go and scrape a piece of your cake off the floor? I’m sure it’ll still be really yummy,” said Neil. He got up and scooped up a handful of the mashed up cake, worms and all. Then he strode towards William and held it out in front of his face. “Come on, freak. Be a good boy and eat up your cake.”
William pushed Neil’s hand away from his face, tears of humiliation streaming down his cheeks. He ran out of the dining room and through the front door, onto the driveway. The sight of the wriggling, slimy worms had made him feel sick – and the sound of the other kids’ mocking laughter still rang in his ears.
He sank down on to the doorstep, wiping the tears from his eyes. Suddenly he spotted something, leaning up against the wall – a parcel. Still sniffing, he reached out and picked it up. It was wrapped in brown paper, but there was no name or address on it.
“There you are. Get back inside immediately and clean up that mess!” Miss Westwood, looking positively formidable with her grey hair scraped back into a bun and her lips pursed in anger, suddenly appeared in the doorway and began to drag William up by his arm.
“I th-think there’s a p-parcel for you,” stuttered William, hoping to take the woman’s mind off the matter of the cake. He held the parcel out to her.
Miss Westwood’s eyes darkened with anger. “You really are heading for trouble, boy. Parcel indeed. Get that disgusting mess cleaned up before I box your ears.”
The parcel still clutched in his hands, William was dragged back indoors and handed a bucket of water and a cloth by Miss Westwood. Glumly, he shuffled back into the dining room, and putting the parcel on the floor, began to clean up the mess under the beady eye of the Senior Carer and all the other kids. He could hear Daniel sniggering and whispering to the others.
Heaving as he scooped up the sponge and worms from the carpet, he finally managed to get the mess cleaned up and handed the bucket back to Miss Westwood.
“What do want me to do with the parcel?” he asked meekly, picking it up and holding it out to her again.
“Don’t start with that again, William. Just get up to your room and you can stay there until you’ve learned to behave normally,” spat Miss Westwood, striding back out of the room.
“But the parcel –” began William. But Miss Westwood had already disappeared.
“What’s up, freak? Are you having hallucinations? It’s an imaginary friend you need to get, not an imaginary parcel!” Daniel shouted over as soon as Miss Westwood had gone. “I always knew he was a nutter,” he added, turning to the others.
Amidst their bellows of laughter, William left the room and headed back to the sanity of his own room. He sat on the bed and stared at the parcel for a while. Who was it for? Why couldn’t anyone else see it?
Unable to stop himself, he began to tear off the wrapping. Within minutes, scraps of brown paper littered the bed, in the midst of which lay the contents of the package…a small, white book.
He gingerly picked up the book, scanning the front and back cover. It was blank – nothing to say what it was called or whom it was by. Puzzled, he opened the front cover. Still nothing – just a blank page. He began to leaf through the each of the pages, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. Nothing at all, not a word.
“What is this?” he muttered, glaring at yet another empty page.
Reaching for a pen, he tried to write his name on the blank page, but the pen didn’t mark the shiny surface at all – it was almost as though the pen and paper weren’t even making contact. He threw the pen across the room in exasperation. What good was a book that couldn’t be read and couldn’t even be written in?
Slamming the cover shut, he pushed the book under his bed, and within a few hours, began to forget all about it. And then the dreams began.
The Sceptre of Zanafiar

Read about Zanafiar at http://renocharlton.com/learn-about-z...

Authors: Promoting Your Free Book Promo

As most indie authors already know, one of the hardest things to do when it comes to getting your book and career off the ground is to get people to notice your work. Writing is not the difficult part for most indie authors – after all, their writing passion and skill is what makes them decide to be authors. The difficult part for the majority of indie authors is actually marketing the book and getting it in front of audiences.

Whilst the big publishing houses have all the resources they need to publicise the authors they have on their books, indie authors have to do all this by themselves, drawing on various tools and resources to help them along the way. No matter how good an author believes his or her book might be, it will never get anywhere if potential audiences don't know about it.

One of the ways in which some authors have been able to overcome this problem is by offering their work for free periodically through KDP Select. With the free book promotion, those who are selling their eBooks through Amazon and are enrolled in the select programme are able to offer their work to customers for free, with up to five free days to use in every ninety day enrolment period. Giving away work free of charge may seem like a bizarre idea, and not all authors agree with it, but for many indie authors this has enabled them to gain a readership and get subsequent sales on their work once the free promotion is over.

However, it seems that offering free books is not enough to get things moving – you also have to promote your free promo! Okay, so promoting a promotion may seem a little long winded but using the right tools – and sometimes getting lucky – can prove hugely helpful in terms of how many free downloads you get on your free days. The higher your number of free downloads, the higher you will be in the free rankings and the more exposure your book gets. Although this does not affect your paid rankings once the free day is over, you can also benefit by your book appearing in the 'customers who bought this also bought...' listings on Amazon. The more customers who download it when it is free, the more of these lists it will appear on, so although you may be giving away a shed load of free books you will also be getting far more exposure than you might otherwise have had.

The most obvious ways that people will think of in terms of promotion is to use social networking sites, which means Facebook and Twitter. Whilst it is always worth posting something on these, it is unlikely that they are going to net you many downloads – in fact, you may not even get any downloads from these. Still, it only takes a second to post so why not?

What can prove hugely helpful, I found, is finding a site that has thousands of opt in customers who are going to be looking for the sort of thing you are offering – free books! There are a number of sites that you can choose from, some of which will actually highlight your free book free of charge. One of the sites that I tried recently made a huge difference to my free download levels, and this was a site called Ereader News Today (ENT).
Ereader News Today (http://ereadernewstoday.com/) is the site that I used for the promotion of a short story on Saturday 14th April. I have to say, I could not have been more pleased with my experience. When it comes to sponsored advertising by authors (which I understand is very reasonably priced) this site is booked up for the rest of the year – if my experience is anything to go by, it is little wonder!

I submitted a form to have my eBook placed on their site five days before my promotion. Now, the site cannot guarantee that your book will go on but since you don't pay them anything that's fine. Hopefully you will get lucky and the book will go on. If not, you are not out of pocket so nothing lost. The day of my free promotion my free book had scraped around 25 downloads for the day. However, as the evening approached in the UK (which would, of course, be afternoon in the USA) everything went crazy. At one point I popped to make a cup of coffee and when I got back another 140 people had downloaded the book! The numbers were suddenly going up so fast and furiously that I checked the ENT website – and there was my short story!

In total that evening I managed to get a whopping 3000 downloads, sending my book soaring to the top of many of the categories and within the top 100 in the free kindle store. I was so impressed with the free service from ENT that I made a donation via the site to help ensure that the site keeps going and other authors as well as readers can benefit from it (a small price to pay given the difference that it made, and something that I hope other authors will do if they do try this site for their promotions).

There is one more site that I am eager to try, although I have not managed to get my book on with them as yet for a free promo promotion. Pixel of Ink has some great reviews and is a site that I will be continuing to try and get one of my free promos featured on so that I can compare results.

Consider Working from Home as a Freelance Writer

Although they tend to work mostly behind the scenes, you probably see the work of copywriters every day, whether it is in print media, online, on TV or whether you hear it on the radio. Copywriters are people who are creative and dedicated to their work, utilising their research skills, creativity and writing abilities to create everything from advertising slogans and print ads to press releases, direct sales copy, website content and more.

While some copywriters get jobs with advertising agencies and other companies that require the regular input of a copywriter, many also work on a freelance basis providing copy and content for clients with a diverse range of needs and requirements. In fact, the development of advanced technology – namely broadband and Internet services – has changed the world of copywriting. The power of the Internet and the lightning speeds at which we can now research and communicate means that more and more people can enjoy the benefits of writing from home for clients all around the world.

With the poor state of the economy and high unemployment levels to contend with, more and more people are realising just how uncertain a future they face in terms of job security. Even those who once thought their jobs were completely safe are now concerned, which is why an increasing number of people are considering taking control of their own livelihood by working for themselves.

Of course, starting your own business can be a costly affair in some cases, as you may need a lot of initial capital to invest. However, if you are planning to become a freelance writer, you won't need to invest a shed load of cash on equipment, premises, etc. In fact, most of what you need to carry out your work as a freelance writer you will probably already have in your home – a computer and a reliable broadband connection!

Another risk associated with starting your own business is the risk of failure. A huge number of start up businesses fail in a very short space of time, which for some people means that they have wasted a great deal of money, a lot of time, and are left without any means of earning an income. With freelance copywriting from home this risk is minimal. You pay little to nothing to get started, so there is no risk of losing any upfront investment. You can start off doing it part time whilst also continuing with your day job, which means that you can test the waters without taking any risks. In addition to this, you may find that when times are tough – as they have been during the recession – people rely on your services even more, as the need to promote their own businesses increases.

The upfront investment by you in order to get into freelance copywriting is minimal. All you need to pay for is your course, if you decide to do one, and a PC and broadband connection if you do not already have them. With a few bits of stationery added in for good measure, such as a diary and notepad, you are good to go! You can earn literally thousands of dollars a month from freelance copywriting from home – pretty impressive, considering the minimal initial investment involved!

When you start working from home as a freelance writer, you can not only build a lucrative career with minimal or even no upfront investment, but you also get to escape the 9-5 rat race, as you will be your own boss, you can schedule your work in around your other commitments, and you can enjoy total flexibility and freedom. You will work from home, which means no petrol costs or wear and tear on your car, and you don't need to worry about getting child minders in or arranging for others to pick your kids up from school when you are working! Even taking the course in copywriting is convenient (if you do a distance learning one as I did) because you can fit this around your day job and other commitments, studying at your own pace and from the comfort of your own home.

I've been working as a freelance writer now for more than eight years, writing for a global client base and in a variety of genres. In fact, I have recently written a short guide, Work from Home as a Freelance Copywriter, explaining how I went from working in customer services to being my own boss and earning a good income as a work at home freelance writer. I believe that those who have the passion and skill to create great copy can fast track their career as a work at home freelance writer simply by following what I did.

Kindle Books: Does Low Price Mean Low Quality?

As a writer, I spend a lot of time reading through and participating in forums on various sites, not just to connect with other writers but also to keep up with readers who are, of course, the backbone of a writer’s career.

I was somewhat disturbed recently when I was reading through a readers’ forum on Amazon’s KDP to find that someone had written something along the lines of ‘if a Kindle book is priced at 0.99 cents then the chances are it’s going to be really bad’. The reader went on to state that she would rather pay more money and increase the chances of getting a higher quality book than pay 0.99 cents and get a badly written book by someone who has no real interest or skill when it comes to writing.

The reason I was concerned about this is because, as an indie author, I have priced some of my Kindle books at 99 cents, not because they are of low quality but because I am a relatively unknown author and pricing low is my way of giving readers the opportunity to read my books and get to know my writing without having to shell out loads of money.

As an avid reader myself, I would expect to have to pay a fair amount of money for books by an established author. However, if I was considering trying out a new author, I wouldn’t want to pay out significant money to start off with. This is precisely why I price my books at 99 cents to $3.99 – I want readers to be able to afford to try out my books and test the waters with a new author.

Also, let’s not forget that Amazon offers readers the chance to ‘Look Inside’, which means that readers can easily look at the first few chapters of a book to assess the quality for themselves. Many of my readers have been very pleasantly surprised to find that after paying between $0.99 cents and $3.99 for a book, they have been able to enjoy well written stories that they have enjoyed and many have gone on to purchase more of my books. The reviews, some of which come from Amazon Top 50 Reviewers, also speak for themselves. Yet, I still don't feel the need to slap a higher price tag on because my aim is to gain fans and readers rather than to reap in as much cash as I can as quickly as I can. The maximum I would be comfortable charging for one of my books, as a newer author, would be $3.99 but this is to ensure a fair price for my readers not because I feel that my books aren't worth any more than that.

My point is that nobody should ever assume that just because a book is priced low that it will be of low quality, as this simply isn’t the case, particularly amongst self published authors who are more interested in building a readership than they are in trying to make a fast buck. Of course, there will be some low priced books that will be of questionable quality – there will also be some high priced books that are equally as questionable. Likewise, there are many low priced books that are of as high a quality as some of their higher priced counterparts.

They say you should never judge a book by its cover – it is also important to never judge a book by its price. As a reader, I embrace the opportunity to discover new writing talent at a really low price and I have no problem paying a dollar, two dollars, even three or four dollars to try out a new author. One thing that I would never do as a reader is pass up books based solely on the low price, particularly given that I can get a good idea of the quality of writing from looking at the book description and the sample chapters. As a writer, I welcome the chance to build a readership by being able to offer my books at low prices and would hate to feel pressured into increasing my prices just in case readers assumed that the lower price meant lower quality.

Indie publishing: The way forward for authors and readers

Harry Potter – it's a name that we all know and love; one that has changed the face of modern children's literature and reengaged children with reading once again. However, like many other authors, the great J.K. Rowling did not have a particularly easy time trying to get her work noticed – she was turned down time and time again by the publishing fat cats. Luckily for Rowling – and for millions of children around the world – one publisher did notice the special qualities of her book and the rest, as they say, is history. But what if that one publisher had also rejected J.K's book? Would that have meant that her book was not fit to be introduced to the masses? Clearly not. It would have meant, however, that the world would have missed out on a literary phenomenon.

J.K, of course, is not the only author to have received rejection slips from countless publishers – a huge number of authors could paper the walls with the rejections that they have received, but like the Harry Potter books, this doesn't mean that their books are not worthy of being read. In fact, sometimes it can simply mean that the book was read by the wrong person at the wrong time at the publishing house it has been submitted to. While J.K Rowling did get lucky in the end and did manage to get her book to the masses after being accepted by Bloomsbury, there are many other authors who do not get that break, resulting in readers missing out on what could be a brilliant book in their eyes simply because an editor or professional reader decides that the book is not worthy of publication or does not fit in with their needs. In fact, when you think about it, it was not even a member of staff at the publishing house where Rowling was eventually published who was responsible for her acceptance – it was the eight year old daughter of one of the executives there who read the first chapter of the manuscript and kept wanting to read more!

Several years ago, I wrote a book – in fact two books that were part of a series that I was planning in the children's fantasy genre. Like J.K, I submitted it to various agents and publishers, and the book did get taken on by a literary agent in the UK. However, even with an agent on my side I couldn't find a publisher that would take the book on. Was this because the book was no good? Not at all, otherwise it wouldn't have secured a well known literary agent that was so convinced that the book could be a success they even signed me up for movie rights representation. In addition to this, there were many publishers who read the book and agreed that it was very well written but that it was 'ill timed' by which we assumed they meant trying to compete with Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings, which were big at the time, might be an issue. I even had my manuscript accepted by one publisher verbally at one point, but when I heard no more after several months I chased up the children's acquisition reader who had been dealing with my book. I then received a cursory email telling me that the reader I had been dealing with had left due to ill health and the new reader did not feel that the book 'fitted in with their list'. So, it seems that the acceptance of a manuscript really can be down to something as simple as getting the right editor or reader at the right time. Imagine if that first Harry Potter manuscript had fallen into the hands of the wrong reader when it was sent to Bloomsbury – we might never have heard of Harry or J.K and the world of children's literature might be very different today.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before authors who have put their time, effort, sweat and tears into their work, became fed up of getting one rejection after another from publishing houses. Many decided that it was time to take action and stop the fat cat publishers from deciding which books were worthy and which weren't – and effectively telling readers what they should and should not read.

Today, there is a thriving indie publishing market in full swing, made possible in part by companies like Amazon with its self publishing arm KDP. This has given authors who have been unable to get a deal with a traditional publisher – or prefer not to go down the traditional route – the chance to get their books out there rather than have them gathering dust in a cupboard or virtual dust in some folder on their PC. The ability to publish their work independently without any agents or traditional publishers in the mix has given authors a new voice. But it is not just authors who are benefitting from the 'indie movement'. Readers are also able to benefit because it means that they are no longer limited to the books that traditional publishers selectively decide should be released. Readers can now enjoy a far wider variety of books in all genres, enabling them to discover new authors that they would never have come across otherwise.

The perfect example of this is Amanda Hocking, who was another author who was the regular recipient of rejections. Unlike Rowling, she did not get that lucky break – at least, not with a traditional publisher. What she did do was take matters into her own hands and decide to self publish through KDP and a number of other outlets. It turned out that, despite publishers, in all their wisdom, rejecting her books, they were actually a hit with readers. Of course, once Amanda proved that her books were good enough and that people did want to read them, having made a lot of sales and money along the way, it was the publishers that were chasing her rather than the other way around!

Having self published my own work recently, I ran a free promotion day on one of my books. Within the space of one day I had received nearly 2500 downloads in the UK and USA for The Secret Portal, my book had gone to number one in the free children's fantasy/horror Kindle bestsellers list, and I managed to reach position 124 in the overall Kindle download list for all genres. I have also received some great reviews from readers and reviewers. Readers have since returned to buy the sequel to this children's fantasy horror, The Vampire Returns and some have come back yet again to purchase my third book, a standalone fantasy YA novel, The Sceptre of Zanafiar.

In short, there is no telling how many literary masterpieces that we may have missed out on over the years simply because of poor judgement from traditional publishers (such as the ones that rejected Harry Potter, who must have been kicking themselves repeatedly for the past decade). However, with the indie publishing market becoming increasingly popular, authors who have created quality work now have a way to connect their books with readers – and readers can at last decide for themselves which books and authors they want to read rather than having a handful of people in publishing houses do it for them!

By Reno Charlton (www.renocharlton.com)