Brief Excerpt from Forging of a Knight, Against the Alliance
With the last book of the current series, Forging of a Knight, Book Seven, Against the Alliance, getting the editorial polish, I wanted to share a rough draft snippet preview from the upcoming epic to end the epic...
Qualtan did as the dragon asked. Unable to see, he followed the hulking form, using it as a shield to counter the portal’s bright effect. Passing its wide entry, the luster subsided, and the knight found himself in a familiar form: a triangular passageway of glossy mineral stone. The dragon’s claws clacked loudly on the red and pink streaked floor, the apex of the ceiling too high and too dark to see. Clearly, it was a passage for a dragon to use, and Qualtan’s wonder grew again at the dragon he would next see. After reaching an arch of gold, the Ward paused, and directed the knight to move forward.
“Here we part, human visitor. I have brought you in, and must soon return to my post.”
Qualtan stared up at the dragon’s stony face. “Does he know…?”
“Yes. He has seen you since you entered the tower. He can see much when he wishes. He surely watches your School even now and can tell you of what happens.”
“Ward…” Qualtan bowed. “Thank you again for your courtesy.”
The dragon was pleased with the action, bobbing its own head quickly in response. “Respectful. Very respectful.” He said, retreating from the passage back to the outside.
“Will I see you again?” The knight asked, as the Ward readied to fly.
The dragon half-cocked its head at the knight. “Should you return to the tower someday, you might, but I do not think you would wish to travel there again, for that would mean further demand from us, and to ask thus would require more of a sacrifice than you will already be forced to give.”
The dragon fell from view, and then with its wings spreads wide, arced back into the curls and vapors of the sky.
“Sacrifice?” Qualtan said, confused over the dragon’s cryptic words. So, there would be a price, he thought, just as Amali had said. He spun around and faced the golden portico, a deep, dark passage beyond it, leading to that which had taken him from the School to now to reveal. His father and uncle had stood before the Dragon King, and now his turn had come. Days ago Death warned the armies of their former allies had begun their attack. The war had started. So much time had passed, all of the School was in peril, yet he had succeeded; with one step forward, and then the next, he would meet the one being that could help them, the grandest creature of them all. He was alone, in a land devoid of human settlement, of any habitat, except that of the dragons. He had become used to such journeys, standing before the Mah-Lahkt, the Mah-Zakim, and Those That Stand in Shadow. His soul had grown ancient from such secret knowledge, his mind stung by images horrific and joyous that would never leave, yet he was not diminished, despite all that he had seen. This final marvel stood to meet next, and he would do so for those that he was responsible for, for those that now battled, and for those that gave him love, for the love that he gave back.
“My uncle, my father, I am with you now. Guide my path and let me do as you did.” The knight took his step forward, and then the next, and then the one that followed. He felt Aurelus and Eucradus with him, or perhaps he only hoped. Either way, their presence strengthened his resolve, and he began to move faster, quicker, into the murky, cloying depths. His sword’s light gave his steps a place to follow, and soon a pulsing wave of faerie color twinkled in the distance. It waxed and waned, timed as if in breath, and Qualtan knew it came from the inhalations and exhalations of the Master of the Great Beasts somewhere ahead.
Step after step. So many corridors, so many passages, where such wonder had sat in wait. Rourst appeared before him, as did Mosh, and the rest of the orcnes as they fled together in the under-earth realm of the Dokahlfar and the Vartahlfar. They left, and Darksiege appeared, the knight’s forced companion within the evil one’s own citadel, both stalking as one towards their mutual foe. The scratching and biting sounds of undead ghuls took over, and Qualtan saw Glaive and Trunkhoel at his sides, daring their way through graveyard tunnels. The past, leading him now to his future. Step after step. The colors gestured to him. No matter the words of Death, or King Prelance, or the elves of Hermstingle; he had transcended the role he had yearned for, and would transform it further still.
Qualtan now heard the Dragon King’s respiration. It reverberated through the passage, a deep and heavy susurrus, and he knew the dragon was waiting. Step after step. The corridor twisted, and the dragon would soon be there. He had read of dragons as a child, been told tales of dragons by his uncle, and now had seen them for himself. The greatest dragon of all was just a few more steps away and he would stand in duplication of his father’s greatest effort.
Step by step. The colors grew, filling space all around. The knight entered its embrace, hearing the dragon’s labored effort, a pounding hammer that drove him down with physical force, yet he did not falter. The passage turned, and the knight walked into that which awaited him.
Qualtan did as the dragon asked. Unable to see, he followed the hulking form, using it as a shield to counter the portal’s bright effect. Passing its wide entry, the luster subsided, and the knight found himself in a familiar form: a triangular passageway of glossy mineral stone. The dragon’s claws clacked loudly on the red and pink streaked floor, the apex of the ceiling too high and too dark to see. Clearly, it was a passage for a dragon to use, and Qualtan’s wonder grew again at the dragon he would next see. After reaching an arch of gold, the Ward paused, and directed the knight to move forward.
“Here we part, human visitor. I have brought you in, and must soon return to my post.”
Qualtan stared up at the dragon’s stony face. “Does he know…?”
“Yes. He has seen you since you entered the tower. He can see much when he wishes. He surely watches your School even now and can tell you of what happens.”
“Ward…” Qualtan bowed. “Thank you again for your courtesy.”
The dragon was pleased with the action, bobbing its own head quickly in response. “Respectful. Very respectful.” He said, retreating from the passage back to the outside.
“Will I see you again?” The knight asked, as the Ward readied to fly.
The dragon half-cocked its head at the knight. “Should you return to the tower someday, you might, but I do not think you would wish to travel there again, for that would mean further demand from us, and to ask thus would require more of a sacrifice than you will already be forced to give.”
The dragon fell from view, and then with its wings spreads wide, arced back into the curls and vapors of the sky.
“Sacrifice?” Qualtan said, confused over the dragon’s cryptic words. So, there would be a price, he thought, just as Amali had said. He spun around and faced the golden portico, a deep, dark passage beyond it, leading to that which had taken him from the School to now to reveal. His father and uncle had stood before the Dragon King, and now his turn had come. Days ago Death warned the armies of their former allies had begun their attack. The war had started. So much time had passed, all of the School was in peril, yet he had succeeded; with one step forward, and then the next, he would meet the one being that could help them, the grandest creature of them all. He was alone, in a land devoid of human settlement, of any habitat, except that of the dragons. He had become used to such journeys, standing before the Mah-Lahkt, the Mah-Zakim, and Those That Stand in Shadow. His soul had grown ancient from such secret knowledge, his mind stung by images horrific and joyous that would never leave, yet he was not diminished, despite all that he had seen. This final marvel stood to meet next, and he would do so for those that he was responsible for, for those that now battled, and for those that gave him love, for the love that he gave back.
“My uncle, my father, I am with you now. Guide my path and let me do as you did.” The knight took his step forward, and then the next, and then the one that followed. He felt Aurelus and Eucradus with him, or perhaps he only hoped. Either way, their presence strengthened his resolve, and he began to move faster, quicker, into the murky, cloying depths. His sword’s light gave his steps a place to follow, and soon a pulsing wave of faerie color twinkled in the distance. It waxed and waned, timed as if in breath, and Qualtan knew it came from the inhalations and exhalations of the Master of the Great Beasts somewhere ahead.
Step after step. So many corridors, so many passages, where such wonder had sat in wait. Rourst appeared before him, as did Mosh, and the rest of the orcnes as they fled together in the under-earth realm of the Dokahlfar and the Vartahlfar. They left, and Darksiege appeared, the knight’s forced companion within the evil one’s own citadel, both stalking as one towards their mutual foe. The scratching and biting sounds of undead ghuls took over, and Qualtan saw Glaive and Trunkhoel at his sides, daring their way through graveyard tunnels. The past, leading him now to his future. Step after step. The colors gestured to him. No matter the words of Death, or King Prelance, or the elves of Hermstingle; he had transcended the role he had yearned for, and would transform it further still.
Qualtan now heard the Dragon King’s respiration. It reverberated through the passage, a deep and heavy susurrus, and he knew the dragon was waiting. Step after step. The corridor twisted, and the dragon would soon be there. He had read of dragons as a child, been told tales of dragons by his uncle, and now had seen them for himself. The greatest dragon of all was just a few more steps away and he would stand in duplication of his father’s greatest effort.
Step by step. The colors grew, filling space all around. The knight entered its embrace, hearing the dragon’s labored effort, a pounding hammer that drove him down with physical force, yet he did not falter. The passage turned, and the knight walked into that which awaited him.
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