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Authors: D.W. Jackson

Forgotten Mage

BOOK: Forgotten Mage
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Forgotten Mage

By D.W. Jackson

Copyright © D.W.
Jackson

Smashwords
Edition

This book is dedicated to my
sister Rachelle who has always been one of my best
friends.

 

Names, characters, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual event, organizations, or
persons, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the
author.

All rights reserved. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without written
permission from the author.

 

If you would like to be
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if you would like to comment on the book you may send a request to
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Your email address will not
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other works.

 

 

Note From The
Author

 

As you might be aware
internet piracy is a very widespread. If you have not paid for this
book and enjoyed it, think about paying for an official copy. I am
not a big publisher and editing, cover costs, as well as other
expenses come directly out of my pocket. I love to write and I can
continue to do so thanks to my readers who I am grateful for.
Instead of buying the book if you wish you can make a direct
contribution to my paypal account at [email protected]. I
understand that times are hard for a great deal of people and
others just can’t get the books by official means, but even one
cent added up over time can help a great deal in keeping me
writing. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great
year.

PROLOGUE

Thad stood hunched over the long white
sword. It was one of five in his collection, but unlike the others,
this one had special properties. While it absorbed magic cast at
the wielder, it still allowed him access to the magical
elements.

Thad had spent years studying the sword
and how it compared to the others in hopes of uncovering the truth
behind not only the sword, but the Brotherhood as well.

I still can’t find anything
after ten years.

“There has to be some secret I am
overlooking Thuraman,” Thad replied to his staff, frustrated. “Back
when we fought, the king had said something about using magic to
break down the veil between our world and the worlds of the gods. I
need to know if that’s true, or if he was spouting
nonsense.”

And should it be truth,
what then? Will you take over their hunt and kill your fellow
mages?
Thuraman asked in a haughty
voice.

“No…I would never do such a thing,”
Thad replied loudly. “I would prepare them. If the veil is going to
fall, it would be best that we are prepared for such an event. I
can’t imagine how we would fight gods, but we might have little
choice in the matter.”

Thad turned back to the sword laying on
the table. “There has to be some sort of magic that will work on
this piece of scrap.”

“Daddy,” A light voice said from behind
Thad as he prepared to launce another magical attack at the
sword.

Turning his head to look at his son,
Thad stumbled and his hand, where he had been building the magical
energy, brushed the blade of the sword. Thad heard a light pop and
looked at the sword as small cracks spread across the metal of the
blade like spider webs. “Bren, run!” Thad yelled desperately at his
son.

Bren looked at his father, big tears
welling up in his small eyes. In his five years of life, Bren had
never heard his father yell at him.”

Thad felt the pull of the sword. It was
weak at first, but quickly grew stronger. It was not only pulling
in the magic now, but everything. It was as if great winds were
pushing against him, making each step he took toward his son
harder.

Thad knew that he didn’t have the time
to save both himself and his son. He made the only choice that
seemed to matter. Slamming his staff into the ground, Thad pushed
every ounce of strength into his staff, forcing vines to grow from
the ground, wrapping themselves around his son’s arms and
legs.

Even with the vines holding him, Bren
was lifted into the air and pulled toward the black swirling hole
where the sword had once lain.

Thad watched his son with terror filled
eyes and prayed that the vines held as his own tenuous grasp on his
staff weakened and his fingers were slowly pulled from its
shaft.

For a brief moment, Thad thought he and
his son might both survive the encounter until a large hand, easily
twice the size of a man’s reached from the darkness and grabbed for
Bren. Without thinking, Thad let go of his staff and hurled toward
the outstretched arm latching onto it and forcing it to bend back
toward the dark portal.

Thad’s eyes never left his son’s face
as he was pulled into the darkness. The monster hand only barely
grazed Bren’s hand, leaving a small silvery scar. Fearful of what
danger his son was in, Thad pulled with all his reaming strength,
forcing the arm and his own body into the darkness of the waiting
abyss.

Maria rounded the corner to Thad’s
study hearing the cries of her son and saw as her beloved husband
was taken into the darkness and the portal to the abyss closed in
upon itself.

Crying and frantic, Maria took up Bren
and fled from the room in terror alerting all the guards within the
palace.

Thad stood from where he had landed and
looked around, amazed that he still drew breath. Looking around, he
spotted no sign of the creature who had tried to grab his son or
any other signs of life. The area around him was bleak and barren
as if no life had ever existed.

Without anything to guide him, Thad
started walking, hoping that he would not find himself walking in
circles. After only a few minutes of walking Thad fell to his knees
exhausted. As his eyes closed, Thad feared that this was one prison
he would never escape from.

CHAPTER I

Bren stood in the back of the audience
chamber and watched as his younger sister by two years walked up to
the throne. As was customary, her twelfth birthday was coming up
and she would become the rightful heir of the throne of
Farlan.

Bren knew that as a male he had no
claim to the throne or any power in Farlan, but he also knew that
what he did have wasn’t bad. He had heard that in the past, noble
males were often sold off to other families much like horses. It
was just that his sister had not only inherited the throne, but it
also seemed as if she had also gained the bulk of their father’s
skill with magic.

Thinking of his father, Bren felt a
chill run down his back. For as long as he could remember people in
the palace had always talked about Bren in hushed tones when it
came to his father. Bren knew that he had been present when his
father had disappeared, but he couldn’t remember the event clearly
and over the years he had come to learn that many people blamed him
for his loss.

Bren watched as his sister Sandrea
bowed to their mother and turned to the table that had been
positioned next to the throne. Upon the table lay a long staff made
of marblewood and adorned with jewels. It was a staff that Bren
knew all too well.

You don’t think I am going
to let that woman touch me do you?
Bren
heard Thuraman say in the corner of his mind.

“She is the future queen and you are a
symbol of our father’s power,” Bren replied in explanation. “It is
only fitting that you now rest within her hand.”

That would be fine if I was
some ornament to be worn around the neck or finger, but I am not
something to be displayed. I will not have this woman’s hands upon
me. You should warn her because the second her skin touches my wood
she will regret it.

“If I spoke out, then I would be
accused of preforming the act in some manner,” Bren replied
honestly. He had tried to warn his sister many times about touching
Thuraman, but ever since she had been able to walk the girl had
been obsessed with her father and his staff.

She may wear your father’s
rings, but she is not your father. I will not be brandished by a
woman.

“Why?” Bren asked as if he had not
heard Thuraman rant about his distaste a hundred times
over.

If it had not been for the
women in his life, our father would still be alive. They broke him
and turned him into nothing but a slave who thought he was free.
The same as they have done to you. You are free to walk around the
palace, but they tell you what you must believe and force you to
bow to your sister as if she was better than you.

“She will be queen and ruler of all of
Farlan,” Bren replied out of habit, his words carrying little
conviction.

Just as you are the rightful
ruler of the mages land to the east. The land was given to your
father and he gave it to you on the day of your birth knowing that
you would find no place within Farlan.

“My mother believes that Sandrea should
take that crown as well. She is a far better mage than I am,” Bren
replied this time his voice laced with a hint of anger. Ever since
Sandrea was ten and she showed keen skill with her magic, his
mother had been working on convincing not only him, but the mages
council that she was the better choice for the position. It was the
one thing Bren had fought his mother on; though sometimes he didn’t
know why. Anytime he started to give in though, Thuraman was there
compelling him to stand his ground. It was the reason that he now
stood in the room, watching as his sister reached her hand forward
to pick up their fathers staff. If she was able to wield the deadly
weapon, then even his protests would be seen as a child’s simple
tantrum.

Sandrea reached her hand forward and as
soon as the tips of her fingers brushed the cold wood she let out a
squeal of pain as tendrils of blue energy engulfed the staff.
Stubbornly, she reached out again, but the staff lifted into the
air and rushed away from her outstretched hand. Bren could hear his
sister call out to the staff, but it ignored her pleas and rushed
straight toward where Bren hid in the back of the room, stopping on
inches away from him.

Grab me,
Thuraman implored.
Take me
now or forever let those around you dictate your life for
you,
Thuraman ordered when Bren didn’t
move.

Hesitantly Bren reached out his hand
and wrapped his fingers around the staff’s wood. Thurman had tried
to get Bren to take hold of it for as long as he could remember,
but he had never been able to bring himself to. Remembering where
he was, Bren looked around and the stunned faces of the people
gathered to watch his sister take her place as the next heir of
Farlan.

“Give that to me now Bren,” Sandrea
declared, marching up to him, her face clearly showing her anger.
“It is mine by right!”

Bren felt his own face flush with
anger. “I did not take it from you! The staff has chosen me as its
bearer. If you want it so bad then take it, but I should warn you,
it will not suffer your touch as you have learned today as well as
many times in the past.”

“That was your doing!” Sandrea
exclaimed. “You don’t want me to have it so you use your petty
little skills with magic to keep me from it.”

“As if I could force Thuraman to do
anything it didn’t want,” Bren shot back. “The truth is that it
doesn’t like you or any woman for that matter. It blames mother and
the others for his death.” Bren knew that he had said the wrong
thing as soon as the words left his mouth.

“It was you who killed father,” Sandrea
shouted. “Everyone knows it. They all say it when you’re not
around.” Sandrea said, sticking her tongue out at her
brother.

“ENOUGH!” Maria yelled, storming up to
the both of them. “This is not how royalty acts.” Maria stated,
scolding them though her eyes were firmly fixed on Bren. “I want
both of you in my study, NOW!”

As Bren walked behind his mother, he
felt like a prisoner headed to the dungeon. He could tell from the
sharp glances that she gave him every few seconds that the brunt of
her anger would be turned toward him. “See what you have gotten me
into?” Bren whined toward his staff. “Couldn’t you have just
accepted your fate like I had?”

BOOK: Forgotten Mage
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