by Jake Adler
THE WIZARD’S MAGIC KINGDOM
By Jake Adler
Copyright by Jake Adler
Published by arrangement with Kindle Direct Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously in full collaborative agreement. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior approval and permission of the author. This novel may also not be circulated in any other form other than that in which it was published without similar permissions by the author being granted. Cover artwork is in the public domain by John Martin (1812).
This first book stands as a tribute to fans of epic fantasy and those who love Celtic, Norse and Greek mythology. This book offers an expanded version of The Magic Throne.
“The myth is the foundation of life; it is the timeless schema, the pious formula into which life flows when it reproduces its traits out of the unconscious”.
Thomas Mann, Freud and the Future (1937)
Table of Contents
Copyright
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
MAP OF NEMEDIA
Chapter 1
Ethan frowned.
“Leave this place now,” said the voice.
Ethan’s eyes scanned the milling crowd as he stood outside a stone grey building that he had just vacated following the fire alarm.
“Where are you?” he asked in confusion.
“Look towards your feet and you can see me in the water,” it whispered.
He looked down. Near to his feet on the pavement was a puddle. A passer-by had just stepped inside it and its waters were cloudy. After a few moments, the waters settled to reveal the features of a girl. She had bright blue eyes and shoulder length blonde hair. He guessed her to be aged around fifteen years old. She held a flickering candle that illuminated some of the vast shelves of books that surrounded her and she spoke with a sense of authority that he found surprising.
“Go home I need to talk to you.”
Ethan coughed nervously and glanced at his co-workers wondering if they could see what he was looking at. They didn’t seem to notice anything.
Rain began to fall and the wind had now gathered a strength that sent ripples across the puddle again. “Go quickly, there isn’t much time!” the girl stated with a renewed sense of urgency.
“What do you mean?” Ethan whispered, covering his mouth to avoid being seen talking to his feet.
“Look, just get moving! Don’t worry about work. That won’t matter once we’ve talked,” she said as her eyes glowed with a strange intensity. Ethan looked down again and could see her looking at him with a curious expression.
He did as he was asked and headed home. He knew that both his mother and father would not return until later that evening, so he had the house all to himself. It was mid morning and he was only twenty minutes’ walk away from his family’s suburban semi. Spying that his boss had her back turned towards him, he deftly slipped through the crowd at the car factory where he had worked since leaving school last summer and headed home. He arrived back quickly and promptly headed upstairs and flopped himself on top of his comforting dark blue duvet.
“Over here,” said the girl’s voice.
Ethan sat up startled. He looked around half expecting there to be a puddle somewhere with a face in it but saw nothing.
“Come here, I’m in the mirror.”
With an almost drunken lurch he did as he was bid and moved towards the full length mirror on the wall next to his desk. She was there, this time in full length view. The darkness of night that surrounded her stood in stark contrast to the bright sunlight of Ethan’s bedroom. With a quick glance to someone out of view the girl nodded, then looked directly at him.
Ethan stared into the mirror with an expression of both fear and curiosity. The girl was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to gather her thoughts. After a short pause, she spoke.
“This will be a lot for you to hear, but please bear with me,” she gestured toward his desk chair, “please have a seat, this will take some time.” Ethan quickly nodded and did as she asked.
She studied him wordlessly for a moment and then began, “I need your help. My name is Cara Bryne. I’m a second level apprentice at the College of Mages near the coast of Ellington”. Cara continued to talk, but Ethan was only half listening. As usual, his mind was wandering again. He realised that she was older than he’d first thought. It was only her voice that sounded childlike. She was probably nearer to his age and very pretty.
He noticed that she was wearing some sort of dark grey hooded robe with a bright sun shaped disc around her neck and ---.
“You’re not listening to me!” she declared bluntly. “I know you well enough by now to know when you’re not paying attention,” she angrily pulled up a chair from the library as close as possible to the mirror separating them and sat down. “I must insist that you listen! I really exist and you’re not imagining me!” she exclaimed, sensing his thoughts.
“I’m listening,” Ethan responded then frowned, “what do you mean that you know me well enough now? We’ve never met before have we?”
“Not face-to-face.”
Ethan was not sure but it seemed that this question made her blush. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “I will tell you about that later, but first listen to what I have to say.”
Ethan listened as Cara spoke about Lebor Gabála, the Book of Invasions. The ancient tome gave an account of some of the many races that invaded, settled and some that disappeared from the Celtic land of Eire. Of the many settlers, the Tuatha Dé Danann, were of the Fae, a group of people and creatures born of magic under the Goddess Danu. For many generations, there was much war and bloodshed as the Tuatha Dé Danann fought against many warring tribes, including their deadliest of enemies, the Firbolgs. To save the Fae from their pending destruction, the wizard Manannán placed a powerful spell of invisibility that became known as the veil that hid the Fae from the rest of the world. This magical sanctuary became known as the kingdom of Nemedia. In Celtic terms this is where the Sidhe lives, people and creatures of myth and legend and it is there that the Tuatha Dé Danann have lived ever since.
However, nearly two millennia ago, there was a weakening in the threads of magic that bind all creation. This weakening enabled creatures from another realm to enter the kingdom of Nemedia. What followed was nearly two hundred years of bloodshed as they struggled to rid the kingdom of the deadly invaders. The war came to a head on the plains of Malakan where the High Sorceress, Brid Clodagh enacted an ancient ritual that returned the creatures from whence they came.
Little was known about Brid Clodagh, other than she originally came from Ethan’s world. After the battle, she disappeared entirely from the history books of Nemedia. Peace has reigned since but reports w
ere now emerging of strange creatures being seen once again.
The College of Mages were ordered by the Council of Elders to ascertain the cause of the weakening of the veil and to research the origins of Brid Clodagh. A trainee mage at the College had recently located a number of ancient texts that were of great interest.
“We have always known that our kingdom was linked to your world due to the Book of Invasions,” explained Cara as she leaned in closer towards the mirror, “The book is fabled in Eire but only we have the original copy. However, upon examining the book in great detail, it was the Appendices section that particularly caught our attention.”
“Hmm,” mumbled Ethan.
“It stated that if ever there was a total loss of magic from the kingdom that this would lead to the ‘End of Days’. The magic that sustains the veil acts not only as a sanctuary from Earth but also protects us from other planes of existence. If it becomes too weakened, demons can enter Nemedia and use our kingdom as a doorway to enter your world as well.”
“Demons?”
“In reality we don’t know what they are. However, they are evil and possess strange magical abilities,” Cara replied.
“I see.”
She leaned forward anxiously, “You can help prevent the apocalypse.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“You can enact an ancient rite that is known only to the Wood Nymphs of Findias.” She stared at him with great intensity, “It needs to be enacted by somebody from both our worlds. We believe that Brid Clodagh must have used this rite the last time to rid the world of the creatures.”
“Why have you chosen me?”
With this question Cara seemed to blush again, “I said that I would explain what I meant when I said that I knew you well enough by now didn’t I?” She leaned back in her chair and fidgeted. Ethan stared. “I’ve been watching you for the past few months through Master Bedwyr’s orb,” she continued, “well, I’ve been watching quite a few potential candidates,” she qualified, “but you seemed to best fit the Council’s requirements.”
“What requirements?”
She fidgeted again and seemed uncomfortable, “They had a specific list of things.”
“Go on.”
Staring at her hands she then glanced upwards towards the same unknown person that she had nodded to earlier. Again, Ethan heard an indistinct whisper. The girl listened intently then returned her gaze back to Ethan,
“I can’t tell you all of it, but I can say that you need to be male.” She smiled and gave him that curious look again.
“Why male if Brid Clodagh was female?” he pressed.
The girl fidgeted again, “You are of her bloodline, on your mother’s side.”
Ethan blinked nervously, “Why is this important?” he asked.
“We don’t know if it is, but we were tasked to find out more about Brid Clodagh and we traced her lineage to you,” she paused and chewed her lip, “actually we traced her lineage to over three hundred different candidates but most of them were elderly, dead, female or possessed undesirable characteristics.”
“What do you mean by ‘undesirable characteristics’?”
“Cowardice, cruelty, selfishness, the obvious ones,” she answered hesitantly.
There was clearly more that she wasn’t telling him but she seemed sincere enough and somehow very familiar to him. He had many questions, including when she had been watching him and how. Apparently it was possible through any shiny or reflective surface. She put his mind at rest by stating that if ever he was in a state of undress she would always look away although he did wonder why a mischievous grin crossed her face when she said this.
“How long do you want me to visit for?”
“A year,” she continued, “Of course, if you don’t like it we can return you as soon as the spell has recharged.”
“How long will that take?”
“About six months.”
“Six months!” He spluttered, throwing up his hands in disbelief, “I was expecting you to say a few hours!”
She replied angrily, “This is an extremely powerful spell! It is it very draining to even the most powerful of mages,” she quickly rose from her chair, “Master Bedwyr wishes to speak with you now.”
Before Ethan could apologise for his earlier outburst she had disappeared from view. In her stead stood an elderly man who was wearing an identical dark grey robe and sun-shaped disc around his neck similar to that worn by Cara.
“Right young man,” he said cheerily, “are you ready then?”
An alarmed Ethan got up from his seat and backed away from the mirror. “No I most certainly am not!”
“Do not worry. Your parents will receive a letter tomorrow morning from your Uncle Jake stating that you are visiting him in America for a year. Part of the spell ensures that they will not worry while you are away,” he smiled reassuringly.
This made Ethan feel better, but he was still not prepared to go anywhere without someone answering his questions. What was he expected to do while he was there? Was there anything dangerous that he needed to be aware of?
“Please hurry my boy,” said Master Bedwyr interrupting Ethan’s thoughts, “The crux of the matter is that this communication spell is also very draining. If I don’t transport you now, I won’t be able to do so for some considerable time. Our magic is fading, so it’s a case of now or never I’m afraid.”
Ethan thought of his parents. His father, Alfredo Palladino was a practical man with enormous hands who worked as a builder. His father would see his ‘trip to America’ as a great adventure. It was his mother that he worried the most about. As her only child, they held an especially close bond with one another and she would miss him terribly.
Cara came into view once again and stood beside Master Bedwyr. “How much time do we have left?” she asked while glancing up at him.
“Oh, I’d say about five minutes,” he replied cheerily. Cara looked directly at Ethan and he was surprised to see an expression of deep sadness mixed with something else that he couldn’t quite place.
“So you're not coming then?” she mumbled, her eyes fixed upon his.
“I don’t think so,” he replied and immediately regretted his words. He was still wondering if what he was seeing was real at all. He didn't have much time to figure it all out.
The ridiculousness of the situation suddenly hit him and he realised that he must be hallucinating. With his incredulity finally cleared he decided that he might as well enjoy his experience, “Alright, I will come if you kiss me when I arrive,” he said looking directly at Cara.
She held his gaze with an expression of surprise and after a short pause, she nodded. Ethan thought better of the game and was about to say that nothing was real anyway but the room had already begun to spin. The only constant object in the room was the mirror, which seemed to be growing in size and enveloping his body as he entered the library. His head spun and as he stumbled forward he noticed the supporting touch of Cara’s hands as his body swayed. She was speaking to him but he could not hear her words as different coloured shapes and images whirled all around him. He felt himself lean into her, but to no avail as he slid towards the ground as consciousness left him.
Chapter 2
Gizurr Eklund grumbled to himself in an attempt to shake away the pain in his hand caused by a misdirected hammer. “Thor's Blood!” he roared in a deep rumbling voice. Leaning forward he stretched out his good hand and took a drink from a tankard sitting on top of the workbench. “Drengi! Get your backside down here and finish this thing off!” He yelled then took another gulp from its frothy contents. The young trainee silversmith quickly scurried over and looked at the ornately crafted bracelet. “Y-yes sir,” he stammered. Gizurr smiled in reply. He was a good lad, he thought, always keen to learn and assist and he possessed a natural talent for craftsmanship.
Leaving the boy to complete the work, Gizurr slipped out of the silversmith’s that he owned with his brother Njord and
reached inside his right pocket. He counted five large coins and smiled in satisfaction, knowing that he had enough money to spend a full evening at the nearby Axe and Wood Inn. As it was now mid-winter there would be no opportunity for warm weather for another three to four months. He silently berated himself for forgetting to bring his cloak as he felt a cold wind rip through his clothing. Pulling in closer the collar of his woollen shirt, he shivered. The inn soon came into view and within moments he was inside. His eyes rested on the flickering fireplace towards the centre of the room and he headed towards it.
“Gizurr! You old bugger! Come share a drink!” yelled a familiar voice. Gizurr turned to see his old friend Ragni Adolvsson sitting at his usual table that was filled to groaning with meats, breads and cheeses and, of course, a tankard or two of their favourite Dwarven ale. Gizurr grinned. This was going to be another good evening. His chill quickly forgotten, he headed over to Ragni. “Ah, I see you have already got the first round in?”
“Of course, I knew you'd be in today, aren’t you most days?” replied Ragni delighted to see his old friend.
“Bah, I know, I'd much prefer to be making swords and helmets rather than jewellery, but times are hard.” Gizurr was referring to the huge profits that he and his brother were renowned to be making in their hometown of Jaktek and further afield.
“Have you heard the rumours yet?” queried an excited Ragni.
“What rumours?”
Enjoying the newfound knowledge that he was the first to tell him, Ragni clasped his hands together and leaned forward, “A trader arrived from Beshok today and spoke of an emissary from the Council of Elders,” his eyes glistened with excitement as he watched for a reaction from Gizurr. “Apparently, this emissary informed Jarl Egill that dark creatures were being seen in increasing numbers from The Frozen North,” he paused then whispered “including large groups of heavily armed Orcs and --,”
“Orrccss?!” roared Gizurr. He rolled the word out in a combined gesture of alarm and disgust, “Orcs you say?!”
