Phoenix Rising (the New Age Saga Book 3)

by Timothy A. Ray

  After all, wasn’t he dead?

  “It can’t end like this,” she heard aloud. His body appeared on the arena floor, sword buried in his chest. He was wearing chain mail and brown leather pads. His brown hair was braided and lay clumped by the side of his head. His blue eyes stared up at hers, his face pleading. “Please, you do not know what you are doing, you can’t let this happen. Turn away—Go home—,” he gasped, but then blood filled his mouth and he was unable to speak further.

  “I am home,” she replied, intensifying her grip on the sword and giving it a twist. The knight’s face relaxed as the sword was wrenched free. His body started to crack. Dust was all that remained as the wind hit and shattered the ashy form, leaving not a trace that he had ever been there.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her cloak and swung it around her shoulders once more. This test had been harder than she had thought. He had given quite a fight. She was confident that the next would be easier than the first two. She smiled as she turned back to the stairs.

  As she wearily dragged herself up the stairs, her feet got tangled and she fell to the ground. An arrow shot out across the air from a hole in the stone wall. Yet again, the woman in black was quicker than expected. She moved with a speed unknown to a common man as she leapt out of the way moments before it passed through the space she previously occupied. The arrow slammed into stone wall with a “clink” and landed harmlessly on the floor, poison gleaming in the moonlight as it dripped from the arrow’s point.

  She swore at her mistake and moved on more cautiously. The staircase ended and the walls to her sides came to a halt. The half-moon poked through the clouds long enough to see the woman step closer to the castle. Then it hid again within the blanket of gray and white.

  The castle lay before her and all that stood between her and it, was a clearing, a moat, and the outer gates. She walked across the clearing to the gates and opened them with little effort. She stepped on the stone flooring that stretched forward only few feet but lined the inner ward. A faded crest stood out upon the stones.

  The royal crest of the dragon.

  She took in the castle. Two towers loomed to either side of her; the third main tower stood in the middle. The main tower was the highest of them all and it seemed to reach for the heavens. One window could be seen near the top of each tower. Iron fences stretched from the places where the towers touched the main wall. Ten flags lined the wall, each bearing the mark of the dragon. A drawbridge lay in front of her, having been sealed for centuries. A moat stretched out across the borders of the great castle and prevented attack too close to it.

  The sight was so magnificent that the woman temporarily lost herself.

  The moonlight appeared across the sky and reflected off the moat. Drawing herself back, basking in the beauty, she walked over to the edge of the platform before her. She stepped up to the first step of five that led to the top and prepared for what was to come.

  Calling upon her last bit of strength and courage, her arms rose towards the stars in a gesture common to the legends of wizards. The air sizzled with electricity. She drew upon the power she had possessed since puberty and let it fill her. Storm clouds developed quickly overhead, lightning striking, and thunder following instantaneously. A string of creaks rose from within the castle. The sound of machinery started to rumble loudly and then the moaning of rusty hinges shook the air. The drawbridge slowly lowered onto the platform, dust flying everywhere.

  A smile parted her lips as she stepped up on to the drawbridge. She walked across it towards the inner defenses of the castle. The sturdy English oak beneath her feet was as strong then as it was now. She entered the castle walls and looked around. As old as it was, it still held the fragrance of centuries worth of people. She continued past the walls, the inner defenses, and entered the city within. The royal palace rose before her as she slid down Main Street. The palace seemed to have eyes and it looked down upon her like a mother would a child, for it seemed to know that for all the centuries it waited, the wait was over.

  She had passed the three tests. The third was gaining the castle walls. Now she knew that little resistance would be met upon her way unto her destiny. The castle walls rose from behind, the mountain it rested upon towering over it. She also knew that on the west side of the castle, a cliff dropped a thousand feet to the ocean below. The placement of the Keep was perfect for defense.

  Yes, come to me my child.

  She welcomed the voice and felt herself slipping away.

  The common people’s homes that lined the street on both sides of her were battered and worn through with age. She entered the courtyard of the palace and started for the front doors. Darkness enveloped everything around her, evil emanating from every core of it’s being. She felt it and found herself longing for its touch. She wanted to become part of it but she knew that it she did she would no longer be in control.

  It would.

  Too late for that, she told herself as she entered the palace.

  Evil surrounded her instantly, trying to bond with her own. She forced it out of her and fought to control it. Walking down the main hall and through the corridor she felt she knew by heart, she fought an endless battle to control the power seeking to fill her.

  She walked into the king’s quarters and looked around. A bed made of gallant material was on one side, a suit of armor befitting a king on the other. A large window with a balcony looked down at his kingdom to the South. She could smell none of the dust that should have been there. Her eyes locked at the treasure in the center of the room. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes opened wide. All her life she sought this one thing; this one way out of her already boring existence.

  She took a few steps into the room then raised her arms into the air “Come,” she whispered, not able to find her voice.

  At first nothing happened. Then a gust of wind struck up suddenly and her cloak flapped back behind her, her wavy red hair flying with it. With her arms still raised in a beckoning call, she cried out louder for it to come to her. Her eyes started to glow. At first, they were a soft pink, then they began to glow a bloody red. A light lifted from her eyes, surrounding everything in her sight. She watched intently as the talisman that she was looking at started to glow too. It sat upon a podium made of silver. The cover of the book was a bright red and was made of a type of leather that never tore. A dragon, not unlike the royal crest, was engraved on the cover. The thick book began to shake, then it rose off the pedestal and into the air.

  The power surrounding it was unimaginable and was only told in legend. It hovered in the air at first, then it started to float towards her outstretched arms. As it approached, her arms lifted wide in anticipation.

  Slowly, the book started to lower.

  As it did, she realized that this was what her life was meant for; this was why her mother brought her into this world. To fulfill the prophecy given by druids before they were driven west out of fear. Fear that they may have been right.

  The book lowered into her hands and she could feel the fire burn through her. She embraced the feeling of power. Her own resisted but was overwhelmed and finally intermingled with the power of the book. She tightened her grip on it, then raised it high above her head and laughed in triumph. Her laugh started slow and soft but started to grow louder and thicker. Her voice was full of power that wasn’t there before.

  The woman that had been there before was destroyed in the wake of the monster that followed.

  Chapter 1

  The Lady of the Lake

  I

  Tristan grabbed both oars and began rowing from the embankment into the shrouded lake beyond. His body felt both restored, yet exhausted at the same time. Almost like he was full of energy but was too tired to use any of it. The contradiction didn’t sit well. He thought he knew how his body should respond; another sign of the physical and mental changes he had gone through by completing the trials. Now, if only he was found worthy enough to receive the sword. Then he co
uld get back to the others and begin their journey to Forlorn.

  Maybe then they could go home.

  He took a moment to brush the longer brown hair out of his face, letting the boat float slowly forward. His fingers were thicker, his voice deeper, and his limbs were more muscular and tanned. He could feel it react to his wishes, but it felt like he was at the controls of someone else’s body and not his own.

  You have done well, a soft voice spoke within the caverns of his mind. He had instantly tried to block the intrusion, but the intent was so honest and pure that he had let go of his new defenses; sure that no malice was intended by the speaker.

  “Thank you,” he whispered aloud, heart hammering in his chest. Had he actually done it? Was he going to get Excalibur?

  Though I have spent the last two thousand years hidden from the world, not much goes on that I still don’t know about. Though my magic isn’t what it used to be, I still have enough to view events from time to time, and Tristan of Lancaster, you are most welcome here.

  She knew who he was?

  That I do. The tests you just experienced wouldn’t have altered you so drastically, but I had to interfere and enhance the magical aftereffects of the tests. I know that you were shocked by the physical changes, forgive me, but I wanted to give you as much strength as I could to ensure your survival in what is to come.

  I’ve listened and watched you for quite some time. From the moment you left your home, you never felt that you belonged. That you were—how did you put it? A third wheel? You should know that, only you would have been found worthy enough to pass those tests and convince the statue on the dais to bring you to me. It’s not about physical strength, it’s about what’s in your heart and how you handle yourself when times get tough that defines you.

  You have been surrounded by death, yet you pushed on; more determined to do what you knew in your heart was right. You think of others before yourself and only seek the sword to protect innocents from harm; not to use it for your own ends.

  The Phoenix is evil, but the book she hoards is far worse, and it’s time on this Earth must come to an end.

  He stopped rowing, so intent on listening to the musical voice that he almost missed the fact that the water was starting to lighten around him. “I don’t want power. I’ve never wanted it,” he grunted. “I only want to stop the Phoenix before more people get hurt and protect those I love. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

  You are pure of heart and I give you Excalibur willingly to deliver to Arthur-that-was/Erik-that-is. Heal him, make the two into one, just as you were forced to do with your own reflected soul. Only he has the power to heal the land and drive the evil back to hell from whence it came.

  Bursting through the water was a long, gemmed scabbard. A golden guard was at the end and a pale feminine hand gripped it gently, just above the surface of the lake, extending the sword in his direction. Hesitantly, he reached out and took hold of the scabbard, the hand slowly letting go and allowing him to pull it into the boat. He looked at the runes across the guard and with his right hand, gripped the hilt and pulled the sword free; the silver polished surface twinkling in the almost non-existent light.

  In complete awe, he beheld the blade that they’d sacrificed so much to get, and felt the power of the sword thrumming through his tightened palm. “Thank you, my Lady,” he managed, bowing his head at the surface of the lake. He sheathed it once more and set it quietly by his side; his heart full of joy that he had accomplished what he came here to do.

  My time is soon coming to an end. Excalibur and the Book of the Dead are bound to one another, counterpoints on nature’s need for balance. If Erik stays true and fulfills his destiny by finally putting an end to that infernal book, Excalibur will be destroyed as well. I swore an oath to protect the sword, and have done all that I can to see it fulfill its true purpose; I have nothing else to give.

  Finally, I may rest; my duty is done.

  He was shaking his head at the thought of such an ancient being passing from the world when he heard a soft chuckle within his mind.

  It’s my time. Nothing last forever and I have grown tired, I’m ready to move on. I have done what I can to give you the strength you need to honor your heart’s request, to better serve your people and protect your family from harm. What you do with it is up to you.

  “My Lady, forgive me for asking, but I noticed that when I completed the quests, that the swords had disappeared, I was wondering if—?” he began.

  Your father’s sword was created as part of the defenses used to protect me. When you completed your tasks, and destroyed them, the swords were lost as well. However, there is one final gift I can give to you, though it will consume most of my remaining strength to see it done.

  He shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that. It was an emotional question centered on the memory of my father, and I would not be honoring his memory or my own heart if I were to accept your offer. Thank you, my Lady. You have done enough.”

  That is what makes you worthy, Tristan of Lancaster, heir to the throne of Griedlok, Lancelot-that-was/Tristan-that-is. My time is short regardless and only hastens the inevitable by a few decades. If only you knew how long I have lived just to get to this one final moment. It’s a drop of water in the oceans of time and I am now ready for my last great adventure.

  He snorted. “You never ask a woman her age.”

  He heard a soft chuckle in response. I can see why she likes you. My final gift has three parts. First, she whispered, her hand once more rising from the water. He looked over the side of the boat and saw a very beautiful woman in a white billowing gown. Her ears were pointed like an elf and her long blond hair flowed gently behind her. He reached down and took the golden necklace grasped within her hand. It was long and had a tear drop fixed to it with a diamond shimmering in the center. Give my necklace to your daughter, Hope. As long as she wears it, she will be shielded from harm. If she grasps it and calls the name of someone she loves, she will know instantly where they are. And it will light her way through the darkest of nights.

  He felt humbled by the gift and stowed it with great respect within a pouch around his waist. “No father could ask for such a gift for their child. Thank you.”

  She smiled in response, then her hand rose once more. This is the spellbook handed down to me by my mother back when the world was young, she told him as an ancient leather bound tome slipped from the water’s surface and into his awaiting hands. There were runes carved into the surface in a language he could not understand. He marveled at the fact that though it had been held underwater, the parchment seemed as dry as the musty books in the library back home. Give it to your future wife so that she may hand it down to her daughter when the time is right. By doing this, you do me a great honor, and I will rest easier knowing that my one keepsake of my family is safe within her hands.

  He bowed his head and felt speechless. How could he ever thank her enough?

  Now, my final gift. When the swords were destroyed, part of their magic remained and I reforged them into one single blade. Its strength comes from you, for it will not break as long as you stay true to yourself and remain pure of heart. All four elements combined into one single weapon, reflections of what was into what will be. In honor of your sacrifices and as a testament to your character, I give you Purity!

  Once more a scabbard broke the surface of the water and he was astonished by the pale white dragonscales adorning the outside. The golden guard had a circular piece in the center depicting all four elements surrounding a Human heart. The hilt was fixed with blue leather and the pommel was golden as well.

  His fingers trembled as he reached out, took hold of the scabbard, and pulled it back into the boat with him. “I don’t know what to say.”

  You’ve said enough. For what it’s worth, I believe your father would be proud, as am I. Trust in yourself, for you are destined to be a great leader and father to a very loving family. You have it within yourself
to do what needs to be done. Now go, your wife-to-be and child await your return. I will not keep you from them any longer.

  Give Merlin a message for me; I forgive him and I still love him. That never changed.

  “I will,” he replied softly, smiling softly at the shimmering lady just beneath the calm surface below. She began to fade as he set his newly forged sword on the seat before him, and took up the oars to row back to the distant shore.

  He should have felt gratified. He had a cause for celebration, yet his heart filled with sorrow. As she drifted away into the darkness of the water, he knew she’d never be seen or heard from again. He had come for Excalibur, but was returning with so much more. How could he prove himself worthy of her sacrifice? Rowing softly towards the embankment, he knew that it would be a constant struggle, and he would have to take her advice and just trust in himself. She wouldn’t have chosen him if she didn’t believe him worthy.

  His heart was overflowing with pride and contentment. As the boat struck the shore, he felt renewed determination fill his soul. She said he had what he needed to succeed; now he just had to prove it. Strapping a sword on either hip, he took the old spellbook in hand and began walking towards the nearby platform.

  Resting his hand on the statue, he noticed that its light was slowly starting to fade. He grimaced and looked at the lake once more. “Goodbye and thank you,” he whispered to the oncoming darkness.

  The platform jerked upward and he thought he heard a soft voice say “good luck”, then the lake was out of sight and the cavern above was coming into view.

  When it came to rest, he stepped off, took one last glance at the places the swords had been, then turned his back on the room and strode quickly towards the cavern’s exit. He’d been apart from the others long enough; it was time to return and begin their journey north.

  They had a war to win.