Hidden Magic
Page 1
LIBERTY REALM
HIDDEN MAGIC
K.D. FAERYDAE
Copyright © 2013 K.D Faerydae
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Cover image by Matt Binstead
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,
or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the
publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with
the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries
concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
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For all of the good people in the world,
you know who you are!
Contents
Cover
Hidden Magic
*Liberty Realm*
Chapter 1
*The Human World*
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
*Liberty Realm*
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
*The Human World*
Chapter 8
*Liberty Realm*
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
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
*The Human World*
Chapter 24
*Liberty Realm*
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
*The Human World*
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
*The Human world*
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Hidden Magic
The Humans were not allowed to know the true magic of this world. They were sometimes unkind, selfish and ignorant.
If the Humans were to experience the world’s true magic, they may damage or even destroy it.
They had already fought with their own kind, destroyed the land and selfishly killed many of God’s creatures.
It was therefore decided: the magic MUST remain hidden from the Humans… FOREVER!
*Liberty Realm*
Chapter 1
Thundering Hooves
The ground shook. Atop the brow of the wooded hillside, a thundering earthquake of hooves and a sea of swishing tails emerged, stampeding through the moonlit mist.
“FASTER!” yelled Zavier, his nostrils flaring, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated with fear. “FASTER!” he cried, as he led the fifty strong herd of Halfses down the densely wooded hillside.
Gaining immense speed and power as they descended, the Halfses weaved their way through the trees. As they neared the bottom of the hill, the woodland thinned and gradually merged with the meadow below. The thundering softened as the powerful hooves of the herd left the wooded area and instead began to beat against the much softer, lush grass of the meadow.
The oppressive mist that shrouded the woodland trees hung thickly, hiding the evil that lurked within their canopies, but the mist in the meadow below had reduced to gentle wisps and was clearing.
In the near distance, the Halfses could see the meadow pond’s surface shining a bright and luminous spectrum of colours: purples, blues, pinks and greens. This magnificent light show was being created by the reflection of the colourful dragonflies that were hovering above the pond’s still waters.
The Halfses galloped towards the glowing pond as fast as their hooves would carry them. Breathless, their bodies steaming with sweat, they charged across the meadow grass. Earth that had been displaced from the sheer force of their galloping hooves formed dust clouds behind them.
When they reached the pond, they stopped very abruptly at its edge, neighing and leaning their heads back in an attempt to stop the momentum of their gallop from driving them into the water. Except for Zavier, that is. He continued forward, powering on at speed until he smashed into the pond’s still waters, the force bringing the water to life, creating a cascade of breaking waves around his huge and powerful frame.
“BRINSOP!” he yelled.
His nostrils flared and steam blew from them as he looked into the sky above the pond at the colourful swarm of dragonflies.
“Help us, quickly!” he begged. “The Nomeds are hot on our tail. They have just killed and fed on Caspian. I have never known them to be so powerful. We cannot fight them alone, we need your help!”
Brinsop, the chief dragonfly, was a good friend of Zavier’s. He knew him very well and he had sensed the urgency and panic in his voice. He gave Zavier an acknowledging nod of his head, turned and quickly rallied his troops. Zavier wasted no time and immediately waded out of the water back to the pond’s edge where his herd were waiting for him, and with him he brought a magnificent glowing spectrum of colour, an army of dragonflies!
As Berthold, leader of the meadow’s creatures, Zavier was very well respected. He was a huge and powerful grey shire horse with great strength and wisdom. It was most unlike him to appear so panicked and fearful. This alarmed Brinsop and his dragonfly army, causing them to wonder just what level of evil it was that they were about to face. But they also knew that they were indeed needed and therefore they must try to help the herd of Halfses. And so they prepared themselves for battle.
The herd stood quietly, facing back toward the now distant woodland. Their ears were pricked forward with alertness and concentration as they stared back into the thick, lingering mist. Their hearts were racing wildly as they anticipated the arrival of the Nomeds. The sound of their thundering hooves was now temporarily replaced by the forceful pounding of their anxious heartbeats.
At the front of the herd, alongside Zavier, stood a bolshie stallion named Aaron. The moonlight shimmered on the stunning stallion’s shiny black coat. His partner Jazmine, a beautiful bay arab horse, stood at his side.
Jazmine’s ears began to flicker rapidly back and forth.
“What is it, Jazmine? What have you seen?” Aaron asked.
“There,” she whispered. “Over there by the fallen oak tree.”
Aaron looked toward the huge fallen tree.
“Where, Jazmine? I don’t see anything,” he proclaimed.
“Look at the twist of roots and earth at the tree’s base,” she said.
Aaron looked again and this time he saw something. His attention was caught by a brief flash of blue, shining out from within the mist. Two small electric blue eyes were peering through the tangled roots at him.
“Nicor!” he proclaimed.
Nicor was one of the more feared and dangerous of the Nomeds. Like the other Nomeds from Shabriri swamp, he had a form that was similar to that of a Human’s. His skin was dark and slug-like i
n texture. His distinct cold and soulless eyes were electric blue. His teeth were jagged, rotten, and misaligned; they still contained strips of flesh from his earlier feed… strips of Caspian. His head twisted and turned and his pointed tongue flicked and curled as he tasted the horses’ scent in the night air.
Nicor possessed great powers, the combined strength of storm-force winds and the immense energy and power of water. He would use these powers to apprehend his prey and then he and the other Nomeds would feed on them.
The animals that lived within Liberty had no need to hunt while they were within its realm. They gained all of their required nutrients from within the magical land’s fruits and waters. This was the same for the Nomeds; they, too, could survive off the land but they were of evil descent and they chose to hunt, not for survival, not because they needed to, but purely and simply for their own sick pleasure. With each good creature that the Nomeds killed and fed on, they became empowered… they grew stronger… and ultimately, they became even more dangerous.
Aaron informed the other Halfses of Nicor’s presence.
“This should not be too difficult a fight, especially now that we have an army of dragonflies to help us. dragonflies are electrically charged, after all and we all know that electricity and water do not mix well. We are therefore at a great advantage.”
Zavier gave Brinsop the nod, then he reared up onto his hind limbs and let out a loud roar.
“Let battle commence!” he commanded.
The herd of Halfses and the dragonfly army lunged forward, launching themselves into a luminous gallop of lights, muscle and power.
Once again, the ground shook and the night air carried with it the sound of thundering hooves as the Halfses charged across the meadow towards Nicor.
Nicor rose up from within the oak tree’s tangled roots and began to levitate, hovering about ten feet above the ground. His eyes widened and shone their brilliant blue light, piercing through the mist. He held his arms out in front of his body and in his backward tongue he mumbled these words:
“Leef eht lluf ecrof fo ym htarw dna eid!”
His head and his eyes started rolling furiously. The thick mist that had been clinging so tightly to the woodland trees began to release its stifling grip. Nicor inhaled through pursed lips, drawing the loosened wisps of mist in and around his body. His head jolted forward and then he thrust out his arms. The mist’s tiny moisture droplets merged together one by one, forming a new powerful mass, a huge wave of water. Nicor pursed his lips and this time exhaled, but unlike a Human that may only have enough force to blow out a candle, Nicor blew with such a force that he created immense, hurricane-strength winds. The wind that he created caused the huge wave of water to surge toward the charging herd.
The herd battled desperately against the strong wind and the spray of the water. But, with their eyes squinting and their manes flowing fiercely, the Halfses bravely and unwaveringly pushed on.
“You will not overpower us!” Zavier exclaimed, lifting his head, forcing open his eyes and using his own magical powers to create an invisible protective barrier in front of the herd. He forcefully thrust the barrier forwards toward the oncoming wall of water. Then he curved the barrier around the wall of water, entombing Nicor within its cylindrical raging mass as he did so.
“NOW, Brinsop!” Zavier commanded.
The chief dragonfly ordered his army to advance toward the entombed Nomed. They circled the raging cylinder of water and then, en masse, they dived into it, merging with it. Hundreds of tiny lightning bolts filled the cylinder, sparking and crackling loudly.
“Esruc uoy,” spat Nicor as he writhed in pain.
Nicor’s body contorted, weakened by the hundreds of lightning strikes that it had received. Unable to uphold his attack against the Halfses and dragonflies, the raging wall of water that he had formed from the thick mist collapsed and dispersed. The wind died down and Nicor fell to the ground with a mighty thud. His weakened body convulsed uncontrollably and then he began to levitate!
He rose directly above the herd of Halfses and, with his body still convulsing uncontrollably, he spat these words at Zavier:
“Ew lliw deef morf ruoy ylimaf dna nehw ew evah hguone rewop ew lliw nruter dna tsaef no uoy.”
Then, in the blink of an eye, Nicor disappeared. The woodland trees began to rustle and shuffle. Zavier looked up into the treetops and he could just about make out the shadowy figures of more Nomeds, but they were retreating, thank God, back to their home, back to the swamp.
The wet and windswept herd were victorious for now, but thoroughly exhausted. Steam rose from their hot, wet, sweaty bodies and billowed out of their mouths as they struggled to catch their breath.
Zavier dropped to the ground, his energy depleted.
“I don’t know how much longer we can defend ourselves against such attacks,” he gasped. “We must rest, regain some strength and then tomorrow I will arrange a meeting with the Great Prophet. Let us hope that when we speak with the Great Prophet, it has the answers that we need, to be able to stand a chance of winning the fight against this evil!”
*The Human World*
Chapter 2
Seeds of change
The radio burst into action, blaring out a cheery Christmas song and woke Grace with a start. She stretched out her small hand from under her warm cosy duvet and fumbled to slam it onto the alarm clock’s snooze button. She had her alarm set every morning for 7am and although it was the school holidays, she had kept it set at this time to ensure that she was up and out of bed, ready to go and help Elsie. Elsie was the elderly lady who lived in the house next door to Grace. Grace visited Elsie every day, helping her with some general chores and also helping to look after her pet house rabbit, DD. Grace loved animals and therefore enjoyed helping Elsie with DD, especially seeing as Elsie would usually repay the kindness in the form of a freshly baked cake.
“Uugghh, what am I doing?” Grace said, pushing the quilt off. “I can’t sleep in today, it’s Christmas Day!” she cried with joy and with that, she sprang out of her bed and ran into her brothers’ bedroom, “Merry Christmas, Dan, Merry Christmas, Harry!” she yelled.
The teenage boys responded in their usual teenage manner, telling her to “Shut up,” and then they grunted, pulled their duvets up over their heads and snuggled back down to sleep.
Grace had not yet reached this age, the inability to communicate without grunts age. She was only eight years old and was full to bursting with life’s spirit and joy. She bounded down the stairs and through to the kitchen.
“Merry Christmas Chyna, mwah, Merry Christmas Womble, mwah,” she said as she planted kisses on the pug’s and bulldog’s heads.
Then she pulled on her wellies and, still wearing her PJs, she went into the garden. Her feet crunched in the thick snow. It was the first white Christmas for many years and the first that Grace had ever and possibly would ever see. Grace made her way to the garden shed, grabbed a bag of bird seed from inside and then continued to crunch her way across the thick-snow-covered lawn to the apple tree at the bottom of the garden. The apple tree’s branches were adorned with a variety of hanging bird feeders which Grace very carefully proceeded to fill up with the seed. Once all of the feeders were full, she stepped back to admire the beautiful wintry wonderland. The air was crisp and fresh, the birds were singing their morning chorus and the sun, having just risen, beamed a golden ray of sunlight through the broken clouds and onto one of the apple tree’s branches, where a robin had been sat waiting, eager for its breakfast. The sun illuminated its red chest producing a warm, glowing patch amid the cold, snowy background.
“Wow, you are beautiful, aren’t you?” Grace whispered softly so as not to scare the little robin away.
“Grace, Grace, come on in, don’t you want to see what Santa has brought for you?” her mum, Mary, called from the back door and with that, the little robin spread his wings and flew off over the garden gate and into the woodland that lay beyond.
&nbs
p; “Goodbye Mr Robin, Merry Christmas,” Grace said.
Then she ran clumsily in her wellies, back across the deep snow and into her warm house, an innocent young girl completely unaware that this brief encounter with the robin was to change her life forever. It was to be the beginning of the most magical, yet terrifying, rollercoaster of an adventure that anyone could ever imagine.
Chapter 3
The Gift
Santa had brought Grace the latest high-tech, slim-line digital camera. Her parents had given her some binoculars and an adventurer’s rucksack. Her brothers gave her a book on wild birds, a notebook and a pencil. Daniel had given Harry a pair of girl’s dressing-up pink butterfly wings. Dan thought this was quite hilarious. Harry, on the other hand, did not and decided to dress Womble the bulldog up in them instead of wearing them himself. Nanny Lizzy’s and Grandad Arthur’s presents to the Darling family were knitted hat, scarf and glove sets for each of them, which had been lovingly made by Lizzy herself. Grace’s knitted set was quite fashionable. It was cherry red, with a bow on the beret-style hat, a small bow on each glove and one on each end of the scarf, too.