Fire Mage (Blacklight Chronicles, #1)

by John Forrester

meat) and plopped it down in front of Talis. What was wrong with him? “I’ve got news for you.” Mara held up her spoon like a professor giving a lecture. Talis slurped the soup, wincing at how hot it was. He grunted for her to continue. “Mother wants me to marry Baron Delar’s son—” What the hell? Talis spewed the soup onto the ground and coughed. Him? Baron Delar’s son was twenty-eight, how in the name of Nyx could she marry him? It was ridiculous! “The soup is hot, you should be more careful.” Mara smirked at the look of horror that must have been on his face. “Don’t you approve of the engagement?” How could anyone approve? But Ta...

raged with righteous vexation. “I’m not marrying that pig-faced, smelly old warthog. He wears frilly silk blouses. Why would a man dress like a pampered child?” “But all the lands he owns, and the trading routes, titles…” Talis forced himself to look serious, despite laughing on the inside. “I can’t believe you actually think it’s a good idea,” she shouted, drawing in stares from the cook and many others nearby. He grinned at her finally. “Settle down,” he said, softening his voice like he was speaking to a baby. “I never said it’s a good idea. Eat your soup, will you? You can’t be married until you’re fifteen anyway.“ “What’s so funny? Stop chuckling at me.” Her eyes flare...

But to that old pig? What are my parents thinking? I truly despise them.” “Just tell them you don’t want to marry him.” “I already did. You know they never listen to me. They claim they know what’s best for me. I’d rather run away than marry him. I simply won’t do it.” She cast a venomous glare at her soup, then sighed and looked up at Talis, raising a finger as if she had an idea. “Let’s win the Blood Dagger competition. If we win, we’re allowed any wish we choose. That’ll keep me away from that ridiculous man.” “But Rikar and Nikulo are undefeated…and they’re brutal—” “I don’t care! We can do it, I know we can. Ever since that old witch made me drink...

then you almost got killed by the boar.” Talis lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s like the gods are angry with us.” “There are rites of initiation we could try…a blood oath.” “A blood oath?” Talis swallowed, not liking whatever was implied by her suggestion. “Would that be with the Temple of Nestria or Nyx?” Mara glanced at the vines covering the walls surrounding the Temple of Nyx, the God of War. Talis followed her gaze and felt a chill prickling along the back of his neck. “I know what we have to do. We must pray to Zagros, who favors the weak and fallen.” Zagros? What insanity would cause them to pray to the God of the Underworld? “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…” “Listen,...

idea. “The Temple of Zagros is for those bringing the dead…or those who worship dark magic. We've learned the rites in case someone in our family dies, and to ensure their swift passage to the Fair Seas. But why would we go there now?” “I’m not marrying Baron Delar’s son. We’ve prayed to the other gods before previous matches and we still lost. What have we got to lose?” Talis believed that they’d be risking everything, even risking losing their own souls. “Oh let’s see, I can think of many reasons why it’s a bad idea. Demons. Curses. Necromancery. And just purely summoning the wrong kind of attention!” “You owe me.” Mara said each word slowly as she fumed, her face red now in rage. “I won’t allow myself to be sold off like that. Besides, it’s not ...

with the God of the Underworld. It’s our privilege—” “And our cautionary warning,” Talis interrupted. She went on, ignoring his words. “Many heroes in the past have done the rites of initiation to ward off death’s touch. We’d be doing it for victory and a powerful god’s blessing.” Glancing at the twisted black oaks marking the entrance to the Temple of Nyx, Talis frowned, knowing this was a horrific idea. But after five heartbeats of staring into Mara’s pleading eyes, he gave in, realizing he would do anything she wanted. She withdrew a small silver knife and pricked her thumb. Blood dribbled out. Talis gave her his hand and winced as she did the same with his thumb. Her ey...

they could do nothing but follow through until it was done. Although as to what consequences this would bring, Talis had no doubt that they were dire. Even stretching beyond the grave. Talis stood, appetite obliterated, and together they stepped hesitantly towards the blackened iron gate of the foul-tempered God of War. The all-powerful, ever-wrathful Nyx. Once inside the temple grounds, the air seemed to darken, either obscured by the oaks or frightened by the shadowy crows that cawed and cackled in the quavering branches above. Talis forced himself past, despite feeling lead weighing down his every step. Mara tugged on his hand, and led him around the sword-shaped temple of forged iron, and past the onyx gravestones that marked fallen war veterans. Generations and generations of generals and heroes and soldiers of noble birth slain in the defense of Naru. Closer to a wall of tangled and twisted vines, Talis found the air reeked of sulfur and festering mold. Mara covered her mouth in disgust, then coughed and puffed out her chest, eyes intense, and faced the wall. She chanted words of passage to gain access to the temple grounds of Zagros. “For there were four winds racing from...

black as tiny scintillating bolts formed an electric mesh in the sky. A barren ledge stood before them. Beyond, the vast Nalgoran Desert stretched across the horizon, desolate and filled with dust devils traversing the sands. The sky seemed to fall down and embrace the desert, merging into a reddish-brown being. The wind rushed at their faces as they strode up to the ledge, the ledge where many chose to plummet to an early death. The Devil’s Grace. Talis stepped gingerly towards the edge, mindful of the lack of railing, and wished he’d never agreed to perform the Rites, but said the words of entry, “All powerful Zagros, finish the deed, grind all matter to dust, from the remains the seed springs to life...

Mara tugged at his hand, pulling him to the left towards a cave set inside the massive granite cliff. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he whispered. She frowned. “You vowed. Just whatever you do, don’t stare into the statue’s eyes for too long.” “I know that already.” “I’m just saying…people have died that way.” Her concerned eyes glanced at him. Talis swallowed hard, and followed her inside the cave. Gods, he didn’t want to die like this. Farther in, the darkness was suffocating. He knew he had to walk boldly to survive the initiate’s test, but as soon as he stepped onto a slippery stone, the feeling of snakes slithered at his feet. His heart skipped and thundered in his...

and cold, slimy hands grasping at his legs. He wanted to kick them away, but he had to keep going. When he tried to breathe, he couldn’t. It was like there was no air in the cave. This is all an illusion…part of the Rites. He controlled his desire to gasp like a fish caught out of water. After he pictured the morning sun rising over the desert, the vision calmed him, and he took deeper breaths. Around a curved corner came the glimmer of an eerie green light. Talis stopped, his legs refusing to take another step. His blood thumped hard through his temples. Two ghostly-green, glowing orbs hovered in the darkness. In between stood a statue of the terrifying Zagros, in a battle-stance, wielding an executioner’s blade in one hand, and in the other he held hundreds of tin...

statue was revolting. A cloaked figure in black knelt before the statue, mumbling prayers. Golden orbs floated in the air all around the chamber. Candles were lit around the kneeling figure, giving off a freakish, flickering light. Mara grabbed Talis’s arm, and they hid behind a boulder and bent down, straining to listen. “…I vow,” the figure said, “that my father, his soul find shall find respite. The endless war of Nyx—spare him, oh great Zagros, please spare him for such a fate.”

with omage agin

Mara leaned close to Talis. “It’s Rikar,” she whispered. Rikar? What was he doing here? He was a foul-tempered student of the Order of the Dawn and sparring partner with Nikulo. After she spoke, Rikar whirled around and glared at them. His eyes glowed green for a moment and then dimmed to black. “You dare violate the sanctity of this temple?” Mara and Talis stepped out from the shadows, bathed in the violent green light glowing around the statue. Rikar raised a hand and Talis felt a sickening energy creep up his legs and into his stomach, squeezing hard until massive bursts of pain shot through his body. What kind of strange magic was Rikar using on him? “Stop it!” Mara hissed, glowering at Rikar. “Leave it for the Blood Dagger competition.” Talis gasped and coughed as the pain diminished. He balled up a fist and started to charge at Rikar but Mara held him back. “I won’t even need to use a drop of magic

green light rose and strengthened into a blistering blaze that Talis could feel in his legs. He studied the burning eyes and deep crevices on the god’s face, and approached the statue, his gaze fixed on the dark lord. He had to remain fearless, or else he knew a demon might take possession of his mind. As he steadied himself, he thought of his brother, Xhan, dead many years ago. He was free now, free of the heavy burden of life. Xhan rested with loved ones, along the Fair Seas… Talis had to believe that. Wasn’t his soul free? Closer to the statue, Talis stretched out his trembling hand. The god’s tongue was cold and wet as Talis touched it, and soon the feeling of a miasmic fire slithered down his arm. In an instant, a vision possessed his mind. He saw a dimly lit cave filled with black tangle vines. A green fire raging under an iron pot. Eyes hard and ruthless, staring at him in the chamber. Talis felt like his life was slowly being drained away by the demonic

eyes. This was it, he knew he was dying. Mara was wrong, worshipping Zagros didn’t bring them favor. Worshiping the God of Darkness only brought a demon’s attention upon them. He was a fool for making this vow with Mara.