CONTENTS
SUN MAGE
1. Enslaved
2. Seraka
3. The Hidden Arena
4. Evening Prayers
5. Breaking Away
6. The Descent of Shadows
7. The Devil's Spine
8. The Graveyard of Kirthgar
9. The Power of the Heart
10. Into the Night
11. The Unsteady Hand
12. The Depths of Urgar
13. The Underworld
14. Zagros
15. Royal Blood
16. Haldrax
17. The Temple
18. The World Portal
19. Demon of War
20. Light Magic
21. The Black Crystal
SUN MAGE
Copyright © 2012 by John Forrester
All right reserved. Published by Amber Muse.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system.
Cover Design by Anca Gabriela Marginean
Visit: http://www.blacklightchronicles.com
1. ENSLAVED
Talis stared out over the vast blue ocean, wondering what lay ahead at the Island of Lorello. They’d been tricked. He actually paid for passage aboard a slave ship. Now Mara, Nikulo, Rikar and he were trapped, sold to a life of slavery in the City of Seraka.
Mara glanced at him as if to say, You couldn’t have known. She reached out and held his hand.
“You seriously made us pay for passage and sold us as slaves?” Rikar glared at the first mate.
The man grunted. “You offered me coin. How could I refuse?” The row of gold teeth displayed from his smile gleamed in the fading light.
“At least offer us the dignity of bribing our way out of slavery.” Nikulo hefted his coin purse.
“You’re in no position to bargain, lardy.” The first mate scooped up the purse from Nikulo’s hand. “Consider it a double bounty. We get your money and valuables, and collect the per-head price from Seraka’s slavers.”
“You’ll get what you deserve.” Talis wanted to kill him. He reached for his sword, but Mara held his arm back.
The first mate whistled, and a fat sailor with beady eyes and grimy hands waddled towards Talis.
“Hand over your stuff. And please…put up a fight.” The man hissed out a laugh. His mouth smelled like garlic and ale.
Talis raised his hands in supplication, but the sailor’s hairy knuckles slammed into his stomach anyways. The sailor chuckled and smacked his lips in satisfaction.
The first mate scowled. “Manef, just search him.”
Manef stepped close and grabbed Talis’s fire sword. He hooted as he stared at it.
“Well look here…this will fetch a pretty penny.”
“Give it back.“ Talis clenched his fingers.
When Manef saw Talis’s reaction, he kicked Talis away. Talis felt a fire broiling along the back of his neck. They stole his sword. The sword father had given him.
“Do you really want to make it hard on yourself?”
“Just do as he says.” Mara put her arm in front of Talis.
“Listen to your friend. Your life is worth more than meager possessions.” The first mate stared greedily at the sword. “Now search them all…take their weapons…anything that looks valuable.”
Manef took Mara’s daggers, Rikar’s sword, and Nikulo handed over his sword voluntarily.
“What’s this?” Manef grunted, staring into Nikulo’s backpack.
“Medicine.” Nikulo retrieved several vials. “Would you like to try some?” He smiled, but Talis caught a devilish glint in his eyes. Poison. The vials were filled Nikulo’s latest concoction.
“What do I need with medicine.” Manef waved the pack away.
The first mate shoved them below deck, and led them to a tiny room. He pushed them inside and slammed the door. Their dark, cramped cell at least had a small porthole where they could stare at the endless, blue ocean.
“Can we fight them?” Talis stared at Rikar.
Rikar shook his head. “Not if you want to live. I think a few of the men onboard are sorcerers. Many armed guards. They’re fully prepared for a fight.”
“So what then?” Nikulo held his breath.
“We wait. And you boys stay calm.” Mara glanced at each of them. “I’m sure the right opportunity will come along once we reach the island.”
“What if Seraka is more heavily guarded than the ship? What then?” Talis said.
“Mara is right.” Nikulo raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Our destination is the inland part of Lorello. Let’s bide our time until we see what fate brings us.”
“You fools wait for a deadly fate.” Rikar scoffed. “I’ll plan our escape.”
As promised, the food was terrible. Slop that smelled like pig’s gruel. Rikar and Nikulo turned violently ill. And the smell only made Talis and Mara sick as well. There were storms that shook the ship for days. Lightning blasts that raged across the feverish sea. Talis was sure they were doomed, and would sink to the bottom of the ocean. Maybe Rikar would find his father in the Underworld sooner than he’d expected.
After a week passed, the storm broke and sunlight knifed through thick dark clouds, illuminating the emerald hues and brilliant whitecaps. Then the birds came: first a lone albatross, then a line of pelicans and red-billed tropicbirds.
“Land-ho!” a sailor shouted above.
After several hours, the ship turned. Talis strained his eyes. He glimpsed the island at last. A jagged coastline, rows of rocky cliffs. Then dense, lush jungle reached down to the sea. Golden hills high above led up to an enormous range of volcanic mountains. The Island of Lorello was beautiful and ominous at the same time.
They followed the coast, sailing in-between tall granite spires jutting out of the ocean. Hundreds of dolphins leapt out of the water, laughing and chattering. The ship raised and pounded down. Talis tensed, clenching the window as his heart went wild.
“Move.” Mara pushed Talis aside. “You’re hogging the view.”
He chuckled as she pushed a crate against the wall and gazed outside. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
“Not that we’ll ever see the light of day.” Nikulo frowned. “Trapped inside slave’s quarters.”
“Speak for yourself. I don’t plan on sticking around very long. If we’re smart, we’ll break out sooner than they know we’re here.” Rikar inspected the door.
“It would have been nice if someone had discovered that Seraka was a slave colony,” Mara said.
“And spoil all the fun?” Nikulo made a fake laugh. “I imagine that’s a secret they’d like to keep safe.”
“What about your master…Aurellia…didn’t he mention anything to you?” Talis stared at Rikar.
He sighed. “He only commanded me to Lorello.”
“To Darkov you mean,” Talis said. “Maybe when we get to Seraka they’ll let you free…and keep us as slaves.”
Rikar shook his head. “I didn’t know anything about this…I swear.”
After several hours, the ship slowed, and the sky outside had faded to deep crimson wash. The air had changed, filled with a toxic humidity. Smoke choked the air. Seraka was a wasteland of huts and tents and buildings surrounded by tall wooden walls. A stone fortress and castle to the left overlooked the docks. It reeked of human misery and greed. Talis could see slaves being unloaded from several ships, slaves of all races. Off in the distance, smoke wafted from the jungle.
“So what’s your plan of escape?” Mara said. “There are so many layers of guards and fences.”
“If we can get past the guard posts. Look...” Talis pointed a
t the docks. “Bands of soldiers. I don’t see many free men lingering around the harbor.”
“They’d brand the slaves with a mark.” Rikar twirled a dagger he’d hidden inside his boot.
“Let’s make sure we break out before that happens.” Nikulo rubbed his arm.
At last the ship came to a halt. A booming voice echoed over the docks, barking orders to the crew. Talis pulled away from the window. He expected them to come barging in at any minute, but instead they waited for hours, until the last noises had faded away.
“Have they forgotten about us?” Mara peered out the porthole. “It’s twilight already. The docks are mostly empty. So strange. Why would they leave us here?”
“Let me see,” Talis said. After awhile, a group of guards wearing silver armor and red-plumed helms came marching along the docks, then turned and strode towards the ship. “Here they come.”
2. SERAKA
Talis stared at the twelve soldiers stomping up the gangplank. They’d sent enough to deal with any trouble.
“If you have a plan,” Nikulo said to Rikar, “you better tell us before they come.”
“It didn’t involve fighting…instead, disguising ourselves...”
Nikulo raised an eyebrow. “That might just work. Keep your eyes open for people who move around freely.”
Keys jingled outside and the door banged opened. A fat, bald guard with dozens of gold earrings stared at them with an expression like he’d rather be home sleeping. His meaty hands held twin short swords, crossed over his bare chest.
“Keep quiet and follow close…you won’t like the alternative.”
They followed the guards. Talis staying close to the back. One of the guards eyed Talis, grunted, and flanked behind as they descended down the gangplank.
The docks had cleared out except for a mangy rat that scurried into a maze of barrels and crates. They knocked on a gate past an empty tavern, and a sleepy-eyed guard opened a peephole, nodded and let them in. Talis expected slaves quarters, but instead they entered a lush, tropical garden that surrounded a stone castle complete with a jutting tower and many turrets.
To the rear of the castle, surrounded by a stone wall, was a connected palace with gold trim banding underneath the roofline. The guards unlocked a low, round door, and they forked their way inside the palace through dimly lit narrow passages until they entered a muggy kitchen.
The bald guard bowed to an older woman dressed in a black apron. She ignored the guards, and instead studied Talis, Mara, Nikulo, and Rikar with a critical eye.
“What makes you think these are any better than the rest?” She lifted Mara’s hands, and scoffed, as if displeased by the condition of her fingernails.
“Captain Calfour insists these young—”
“The Captain wouldn’t know donkeys from trained baboons. How can a sailor know good breeding?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, studying them more carefully. “But, then again, their posture is exceptional. They stare at me as if I were beneath them. They’re filthy and smell like pigs. They need cleaned up…a hot bath, fresh clothes. You there.” She pointed at Rikar. “You look greatly displeased. Where are you from? Tell me your story.”
Rikar raised his eyes sullenly. “Who rules this place? We’re no servants…not in our blood.“
“Answer the lady!” The bald guard struck Rikar on the ear.
“None of that violence…get out of here, I can handle them. Go on, now.” She shooed the guard away, then turned back to Rikar as if measuring his worth. “A young prince? The lot of you from royalty… What are you doing here in Seraka?”
When no one volunteered an answer, the woman sighed, as if knowing it was a useless question. “How about I answer your question, young man. The Five Calazars rule Seraka…I serve these masters and manage their households. You are honored, brought here instead of the slave pens. Considering other unpleasant alternatives, be mindful of your words and demeanor. To the children of the Five Calazars, you will be called ‘guests’ and, depending on your knowledge and skills, ‘tutors’. If you fail to remain civil, you give me no choice but to recommend your service elsewhere.”
“And who rules the Island of Lorello?” Rikar said, tugging at his hair.
The woman paused, and narrowed her eyes at him. “We exist with the blessing of the greater powers of this ancient land. We do not fool ourselves for one moment. Beyond the walls, beyond the fields and factories, beyond the serenity of our city, lies a strange and dangerous realm.” She chuckled. “When slaves try to escape, they rarely try fleeing into the jungle.”
She pointed down a marble-lined hallway. “Let’s get you cleaned up…off to your baths. I can’t present you properly looking and smelling the way you do.” She lifted her head high, as if forgetting something. “Forgive my lack of introduction, my name is Madam Vesteria.”
After a long scrubbing, Talis soaked in a cedar bath, feeling the fatigue melting away. Seraka wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. If they planned carefully, they could quickly make their escape. But only after they had a chance to eat and regain their strength.
When he finished his bath, new clothes sat on a bench: white linen pants and shirt and leather sandals. His old clothes and gear had been taken away. Wearing the clean, new clothes made him wish he were back at home.
He looked up as Nikulo and Rikar entered the room, grinning and patting their clothes as if pleased. Madam Vesteria returned, smiled in approval, and led them to their room, a small simple room with two bunk-beds made of bamboo. Plates of black bread were brought in, with butter and honey. They ate, silent, and passed out as the candle burned low.
The next morning bananas, milk, and sweet rice were brought in. After breakfast, Madam Vesteria pursed her lips, and led them down a white marble hallway, broad and lined with statues of gods, goddesses, and mythological heroes and creatures. They came to the grand foyer, circular and open. One direction led to a massive carved mahogany door, and opposite, a spiral staircase wound up and around four stories high.
“You will wait here.” Master Vesteria pulled on a long, silken rope, sounding a bell. “Prepare yourselves to meet the young masters of the Five Calazars.”
Talis heard the slow clicking of heels down the staircase. Two boys, twins about the same age as Rikar, sauntered down, followed by a girl who appeared a year younger than Mara. She was petite and pale, shy to the point of almost being afraid to glance at them. The twins chuckled as they whispered, staring at Talis, as if caught up in some private joke. Their eyes held a proud, indifferent expression. They were also dressed in white, but their clothes were made of woven silk, layered with gold and some black metal.
“Just arrived?” a twin said.
“Let me introduce you to young masters from Khael,” Madam Vesteria said. “This is Talis, Rikar, Nikulo, and Mara. And here”—she gestured at the twins—”are Masters Killian and Kolray, and our lovely Celestia.” The twin who had spoken first, Killian, appeared haughty, the instigator of the two. Kolray was more subdued.
“Young Mara is lovely.” Killian reached out to hold Mara’s hand.
She snapped it back and bowed. “That isn’t customary where I’m from.”
“Oh…this one has spark to her…she’ll be entertaining, to be sure. Tell me, nanna, where did you dig these four up? Khael? Laughable. I’d say some vagabond outcasts from a Jiserian siege. This one”—he jutted his chin at Talis—”looks like he wants to strangle me. The fat one here seems eager to feast, and the insolent one…oh, I think I’ll get along with this Master Rikar. Dark and sullen…just like father. Tell me, where are you from?”
Rikar studied Killian for awhile, as if trying to decide how to proceed. “The city of Naru…in the great Nalgoran Desert.“
“Naru…that rings a bell…trading city, correct? Tell me, how does it compare to our illustrious city?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of touring your city. But on the outside, many differences. Naru is situated atop a jutting mountain with a two-lay
ered defense, walls hundreds of feet tall. We have a university, many secondary schools… Our arena is renowned.”
“An arena! We also have a fighting arena… I must show you. Do you compete?”
Rikar chuckled. “Yes, in fact Nikulo and I are a team, as are Talis and Mara.”
“A girl warrior?” Killian’s amused eyes settled on Mara. “I have to see that.”
“The young masters are not here for the arena,” Madam Vesteria said.
“But of course…I err in my enthusiasm.” Killian flourished his hands, smiling sweetly at the Madam. “I volunteer to lead a tour of our city. Would it please Madam?”
Madam Vesteria frowned, and rubbed her chin. “I suppose that would be acceptable. You must return before lunch. Now look at me, you will behave yourself, am I understood?”
“Perfectly.” Killian bowed, his face serene and cold.
After Madam Vesteria left, Kolray whispered something into Killian’s ear that made a wide grin spread over his face. “My brother has a dreadful idea. Shall we go?” He gestured towards the front door.
Outside, fog hung low like a dense hand suffocating the city. The air smelled worse today, of pungent smoke and pitch and spoiled meat. Killian led them along a quiet, winding corridor, past several guard posts until they reached a maze of warehouses. Talis could hear the lashing of whips inside, followed by groans and cries for mercy. His skin tingled as if covered in ice.
3. THE HIDDEN ARENA
Killian displayed a golden coin and the burly man at the warehouse door bowed, and let them inside. The narrow corridor was dimly lit with torches on the wall. It led down to a wooden staircase, descending further into darkness.
“Try not to look at anyone…it will help prolong your life.”
Rikar clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Where exactly are you leading us?”
Killian laughed. “You said you were fond of the arena. Father would hardly invite the likes of you to our official city arena, so here is the next best place for such entertainment.”
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