Guest Blogger: Mike Cooley - The Crystal Warrior
I would like to welcome, Mike Cooley and his new book
"The Crystal Warrior" to my Blog. Have a seat anywhere.
Halloween is here which means CANDY, CANDY, CANDY and tales of evil.
Well, I am keeping my candy but I'll share with you a wonderful story in which the characters are quilted together to form an Odyssey.
The Triad Of Evil
In my dark fantasy novel, The Crystal
Warrior, the primary villains are known as the Triad. They are all very
different from each other, and start out widely scattered on the world of
Agorai.
Adan is a boy, white-haired and
blue-eyed. He's looks like he's twelve, but controls great magic which he
forces from the myrric worm, Ishak, that he has imprisoned.
The shirtless boy walked along the
sand, occasionally stopping to draw glyphs and intricate diagrams below the
high water line on the beach. The ocean of Yrt rolled in from the north,
emerald waves breaking on the white sand. He was short and tan, with piercing
blue eyes and white hair. From time to time he would stop, face the ocean
spray, and observe the breakers with great interest.
Roate is a beggar, deceptive in his
guise as a drunkard.
The drunk leaned against the wall in
the far corner of the Scabbard Bar, then slid to the floor. His dirty lips
moved silently beneath his mop of greasy, black hair. In his left hand was a
bottle of cheap ale. The back of his hand was tattooed with intertwined snakes
in the shape of a triangle. Roate drooled, his dark eyes sparkling.
And Ulon is a farmer, until Larissya
gets the first crystal from her dying Grandmother.
The tall, gaunt farmer finished feeding
the Siltogs and closed the barn door. He slid a rough-hewn branch through the
door handles to keep the animals from jostling free. He walked along a dirt
path, around the corral, past the water trough, and toward his house. It was a
quiet night on the outskirts of Tyali, near the Sathos River. The moons were
both visible, although Selav was brighter than Athas—as usual.
He opened the wooden door, and walked
into the large, dim room. Taking his flint from his belt, he lit the single
candle in the middle of the table and sat heavily in the only chair. As the
candle flickered to life, his dull eyes focused and steadied; as he watched,
things began to clear, and shadows danced deep in the flames, telling him
things he needed to hear.
All three of them have been around for
a very long time. They have been waiting for something.Waiting and watching for
the signs that the Warrior has been awakened.
Adan, the boy, gazed deep into the surf
at dusk that night, and spoke. “The danger—”
Ulon, the farmer, continued: “—as
foretold four hundred years ago—”
Roate, the beggar, finished, “—has
arisen.”
All three of them have a past shrouded
in mystery. All three of them are deadly.
Ulon woke up on the morning after Adan
had forced Ishak to augment his powers, and went into the kitchen to get a
knife. He sat at the heavy wooden table in the middle of the room, and placed
his right hand, palm down and fingers spread, on the table. With his left hand,
he sparked a flint and lit the tawny candle in the center of the table. He
watched the flame burst to life with great interest, and sat staring into it
for several minutes, motionless.
Abruptly, he picked up the blade with
his left hand and--
Adan stood at the edge of the
precipice, gazing down serenely at the creature. An intricate web of wire kept
the beast from escaping its prison. “You will tell me more,” the boy said
quietly. “I want the possession power when they meet. I must be there to
retrieve the power.”
Ishak made a keening sound with most of
its mouths, and tested the guard wires with five gnarled legs; the wires held,
and he let go quickly, as they burned him. The fluid of its body raced around
and around inside the translucent shell, like fireflies in amber.
Roate had been walking south toward the
Sathos River for several hours when the old man made his last mistake. He
appeared over the horizon from the south, riding a dirty polgna along the dirt
road, with saddlebags tied behind him. The old merchant urged the shaggy beast
to the side of the road to skirt the dirty beggar, and averted his eyes.
“Three are one,” said Roate
cryptically, as he shook his left sleeve, releasing a triangular coin into his
palm. He waited until the old man had passed by, and then turned to face him.
He grinned, revealing rotten teeth, and said, “If only I were sorry about
this.” As the merchant turned his head to look back, Roate flicked his wrist,
and the triangular shard shot down the road, stopping with a sickening thunk in
the old man’s head.
The Triad work together to try to stop
Larissya from gathering the crystals she needs to save her life, the lives of
her friends, and the world itself. It's a complex world and a dangerous one.
Read all about it, here:
NICE
