Time to Soar

I can’t tell you what I’m up to…yet, but it is something big. I’ve had some ideas bouncing around the old tin can here for a while and am finally ready to begin. Here’s a little taste, if you will of the backstory. http://www.amazon.com/Purifying-Flame-Priests-Andrak-Story-ebook/dp/B00CRJXKC2/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Brother Quinlan marched by, the white wings attached to his helmet repelling the cold winter night. Face guards concealed much, leaving a narrow strip for each eye and his mouth uncased. Donal swallowed at a stern glare from the war priest.

Quinlan stopped a few meters away and addressed his section of the wall. “We are the servants of light, keepers of the Purifying Flame. The Omegri will stop at nothing to eclipse the light. Should any of you find you lack the courage to stand the wall you will be removed and banished from the Free Lands. Cowards and those weak of heart will not survive the first night.”

His gaze swept left and right. “Do not underestimate your enemy. The Omegri are of the old world, in a time before men. Should you fall, should we all fall, the Omegri will sweep into the castle and extinguish the Purifying Flame. Will you let that happen?”

“No!” the knights cried as one.

Brother Quinlan nodded, silently unimpressed by display of their empty bravado. “Then stand and fear no darkness!”

Again, Donal’s heart swelled. The war priest imbibed strength to the new recruits. The first night was always the roughest. Many would not live to see the dawn. Hearts would rupture, eyes would bleed and minds would shatter over the course of the next few hours. Not even the supernatural powers of the war priests were enough to save everyone.

Night deepened. Winds blew colder. Donal shivered and tried to lose himself inside the false warmth of his cloak. He looked ahead to where Sir Forlei stood. The knight remained composed. His shoulders shivered slightly. Donal suppressed a grin. Knowing one so powerful as a knight suffered from simple cold the same as he did wonders for Donal’s morale. Time moved slowly.

Donal yawned, drawing a fierce glare from Brother Quinlan. Donal opened his mouth to apologize when a strange sensation overwhelmed his senses, driving him to his knees. Donal vomited from the sheer pressure building in his head and chest. Brother Quinlan immediately recognized the threat and spun towards the wall. Raising his body length shield, Quinlan whispered a short prayer and raised his shield. Ripples of power distorted the air, pushing back against the night.

Donal looked up to see a magnificent pale golden light pour from the silver cross. It was quickly echoed by more than a dozen others around the ramparts.

“Fear no darkness!” the battle cry sang from the opposite side of the castle.

Donal slowly pushed himself back to his feet and looked into the night. Never had he seen such total darkness. The protective light glowing from the war priest’s shields did little to stem the oppression. Raw emotions crawled up from lost corners in his mind. Hatred demanded. Fear humbled. Despair beckoned. Donal threw his hands over his ears and gave a silent scream.

Shapes crawled in the darkness. He caught fleeting glimpses of scales and tentacles. Claws and fangs. The smell of puss and rot polluted the air. Fresh snow sizzled and melted wherever it touched the dark creatures. No, not creatures, a voice in his mind warned. They are the Omegri. It was too much for Donal’s young mind. His vision darkened. The last thing he saw were monstrous hands reaching out from the darkness to snatch the knight standing next to Sir Forlei. Donal collapsed.

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