The Druid (The Dawning of Muirwood, #1)

by Jeff Wheeler

They carve onto the bottom of each stone a small sigil allowing the stones to be hoisted into the air through the power of the Medium. These sigils are not faces carved into expressions of human emotions. They are directions of obedience. The stones obey the simple commands of the builders. Once in place, they become immovable and fixed. This knowledge was passed down from an emperor-maston in a previous age. He who built a city of glory, the fame of all the world. And then the city, the entire island, lifted from its foundations and disappeared into a brilliant cloud to rejoin the Essaios of Idumea. They called the city Safehome, the City of Peace. It is the template for which we all strive today.

The best way to motivate an ambitious person was to torment them with a lack of approval. To treat their highest accomplishments as trivial and their smallest lapses as catastrophes. Men and women of ambition gave their best efforts when praise was sparing. “I am sorry, my lord. I have failed you.” Good, Mícheál thought, he isn’t making excuses. That was the first reaction of most. If the captain had made excuses, they would have been hacked into splinters, like so much dead wood.

I would also like to publicly thank my Heavenly Father, who was aware of my walks to the FM7 cafeteria at Intel in Northern California as I’d pick a Fuji apple from the basket of fresh fruit provided us, my imagination brimming with story ideas. And how many times I’d bite into that apple, dreaming what it would be like to someday be a full-time author. It begins with a thought and a little bit of hope. I made Him a promise all those years ago that I would try to write books that bring a little light into the world. I hope I’ve kept up my end of the deal.