Dark Shores of Salvation, page 1
part #3 of Travails of the Dark Mage Series
Dark Shores of Salvation
Travail of The Dark Mage
Book Three
Brian S. Pratt
Copyright 2023
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The Fantasy Worlds of
Brian S. Pratt
The Morcyth Saga
The Unsuspecting Mage
Fires of Prophecy
Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li
Trail of the Gods
The Star of Morcyth
Shades of the Past
The Mists of Sorrow*
*(Conclusion of The Morcyth Saga)
Travail of The Dark Mage
Sequel to The Morcyth Saga
1-Light in the Barren Lands
2- Tides of Faith
3-Dark Shores of Salvation
4-forthcoming
5-forthcoming
The Improbable Adventures of
Scar and Potbelly
Ice Terraces of Crystal Crag
-additional titles forthcoming-
The Broken Key
#1- Shepherd’s Quest
#2-Hunter of the Horde
#3-Quest’s End
Qyaendri Adventures
Ring of the Or’tux
Dungeon Crawler Adventures
Underground
Portals
-Islands forthcoming-
The Adventurer’s Guild
#1-Jaikus and Reneeke Join the Guild
#2 Caravan to Kittikin
#3-Tombs of the Necromancer (forthcoming)
This is for-
Michelle who has far more patience with me than I deserve.
Fans whom I got a chance to meet and enjoy pizza with:
Rene Carley
Brandon Calderon
Benjamin Calderon
And those I lost during the writing of this book:
My father Jess who died too early
Ralph, who made my mother happy and was a good grandfather to my children
Mary, Charles and Rikki-you will be missed.
John and Dorothy Moore (my kids’ Pop-pop and Tutu)
Jim and Helen who are finally at peace and together once again.
Prologue
A massive conflagration erupted within the tree line. Trees exploded, soldiers screamed in pain and through it all, a man walked encased in a protective shield. As his men died around him, the one bringing destruction threaded his way through a hellish inferno. The heat was intense but bothered him not at all. The attacker gave no thought to the welfare of his men as he continued forward.
Coming to the edge of the clearing, he saw a lone building situated near the center. Not far from it sat a wooden platform of mysterious design. Within that building was the one for whom he had come. Stepping from the trees, he made his way forward. Resting on the palm of his upturned hand was a yellowish-glowing object from which magic radiated.
Two faces peered at him through a window. A third sheltered within as well, but kept out of sight. He recognized one of the faces as that of the mage. Not slowing his pace, the attacker worked his way through the fiery debris until past the area of destruction. About that time, the door to the building opened.
A young man of middling height and twenty-four years of age emerged. From the looks of him one wouldn’t think he posed any kind of threat. But the power he could command was formidable. The mage stood framed in the doorway for a moment; fear, worry and no small amount of confusion played across his face. A moment only did he stand there before leaving the relative safety of the small, wooden building. The two men strode purposely toward each other. One set on destruction, the other striving to survive.
When the mage came within speaking distance, the mage asked, “Who are you?”
Silence was the only answer he received.
“Are you from the Empire?”
It was a valid question as the soldiers the attacker had arrived with had clearly been from there.
Again, the mage was answered by silence.
“I don’t suppose you would simply go home?” When again the attacker failed to reply, the mage added, “No? I didn’t think so.”
The clearing was choked with an ever-thickening blanket of smoke. Fires raged in the tree line surrounding the clearing and the debris littering the area smoldered and hissed.
Coming to a stop a hundred feet away, the mage paused a moment. For a brief moment the pair locked eyes.
The attacker felt the mage connect to the magic grid surrounding the island. The yellowish object in the attacker’s palm flashed brilliantly and a beam of power lanced toward the mage. Translucent spheres appeared in the space between them, one of which encountered the beam and the resultant impact was tremendous. A staggering amount of force had been released and the concussion wave rolled over them both.
Firing another beam, it proved just as ineffective as another of the mage’s translucent spheres drew the beam to it and another explosion rocked the clearing.
Then from behind the mage a man emerged. Dark-haired, muscled and no stranger to death, he held in his hands several ceramic disks. As soon as he drew close he threw them to land in the space between the two adversaries. Immediately, micro-bursts of magic lanced at the attacker. They proved minor in their effect but the constant barrage distracted him just enough to make magic harder to control.
The mage summoned massive amounts of magic to him and lightning fell from a cloudless sky. Three bolts of incredible ferocity struck the attacker’s shield and when the resulting flash and detonation dissipated, the attacker remained standing. The mage looked on in shock that his attacks had yielded so little results.
Responding in kind, the attacker struck with a force of concentrated power. The mage barely had time to throw up a shield. It was hit with such force that the air surrounding the shield ignited in a gigantic fireball. Flames engulfed the shield, and if the mage’s friend hadn’t leapt backward to shield himself behind the remnants of a once mighty tree, he would have been consumed. As it was, when the flames subsided, the ends of his hair smoldered.
When the mage’s friend glanced behind him to find the workshop had suffered greatly from the explosion, he raced back toward it. A moment later he emerged with a girl clutched tightly to his chest and raced for the safety of the mysterious platform situated not far away. They had barely ducked behind it when the mage was again struck with a massive magical attack.
Fire erupted around the mage’s shield. From out of the inferno, the mage counter-attacked. The ground shook and cracked open only to be shut with a flare from the yellowish object held in the attacker’s hand. Ice, fire, and slugs of stone pummeled him but the attacker’s shield held.
Then the yellowish object pulsated and magic flowed toward the mage’s shield. Within it, the mage braced for the impact. But instead of attacking, the magic settled around the shield like a wet blanket. It created a barrier between the mage and the conduits of magic upon which he drew. The attacker worked to trace the conduits back to the magical nodes which were their source. One by one he disabled them, steadily weakening the mage’s magical reservoir.
Realizing his predicament, panic grew upon the mage’s face. In a final burst of magic utilizing nearly all his internal reservoirs and the power from what conduits remained available, he lashed outward and threw off the magic covering his shield.
Staggered from the effort, the mage turned toward where his friend and the girl had taken shelter behind the platform.
His friend saw him. “James!” he cried.
The mage shouted back, “Get on the platform!” Then he bolted for it.
With the mage on the run, the attacker lashed out again only to hit a wall of magic the mage had thrown up in desperation. Blasting through it with ease, the blow pummeled the mage full on, knocking him off his feet. Sailing through the air, the mage landed head first against the side of the platform.
“Uncle!” the girl screamed.
The mage’s friend was there and pulled him up onto the platform.
With the yellow object in his hand, the attacker made his way toward the trio huddled upon the platform. It was time to finish what he had come to do. Summoning magic, he surrounded himself with an inferno, and then launched it at those upon the platform.
Screams sounded as the fiery death roared toward them. Then just before it hit, the platform’s magic sprang to life. Adding his own power and finesse in traversing the void between worlds, Igor sent James on his way.
The platform was consumed by the fiery blast, but that mattered not. James was headed to Earth and the probability was high that not only would he return, but would bring with him items from his world that without which, all hope would be lost for this world.
Igor sent his senses to those at the manor and found them worried and fearful, but would be okay. A ship was even now en route which would rescue them and bring them to safety.
The burned bodies of the soldiers that had accompanied him on this raid vanished as they were no longer needed. What damage James had dealt had not been illusion and as such, would remain.
“There has to be a simpler way…,” he murmured to no one in particular.
Turning about, he made his way back to the path leading to the dock area. Along the way he came across a pile of rock that had once been one of James’ island guardians. Pausing a moment, he reassembled Rocky. Once it regained its former shape he laid a hand against the shattered crystal and repaired it. A moment later it glowed deep amber.
“Protect your master’s island until his return.”
The stony face stared at him for but a moment before Rocky turned to resume his pattern of patrol.
“He’s on his way.”
“And you’re late,” stated Asran’s representative for this world.
Igor flashed him an annoyed look. “These things must be done properly or the end result will not be what you wish.”
“Like the last time?”
He turned to Corinthia’s representative. “Had I not acted and brought him from his homeworld, even now this planet would be lost to Dmon-Li.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” another stated. Representing a god whose influence had all but vanished, his opinion held little weight with the others. Still, as long as even a single human worshiped his god, he had a voice in this Council.
More than one nodded their agreement.
“For a second time you have brought this world to the brink of annihilation.”
Asran’s Rep. had far more influence and could not be so easily dismissed.
“The probability that we would reach this point was moderate,” he explained. But then he held up a hand to forestall further condemnation. “But to have not acted, the probability of Demon-Li’s plans coming to fruition was nearly certain. I had to act. There was no choice if this world was not to fall to Evil.”
The others didn’t care much for Igor. Since he did not represent a god, he was not obligated to adhere to the Compact, a set of rules detailing how gods and their Reps can act in regards to humans, whether theirs or others. Those breaking the Compact risked complete destruction of their presence on the world upon which the Compact was broken. Good, evil and neutral deities would come together to destroy every last follower and temple of the offending deity. Nothing would be left.
Igor knew that though he worked outside the Compact, there was only so far he could go. The others would not act against him unless he gave them just cause. At times he had walked a fine line. Bringing James over had nearly caused him to step over that line. But as things had turned out in the world’s favor, he had been forgiven. But now the situation was beginning to spiral out of control and he again trod upon the razor’s edge.
He turned to their newest member, one who had been absent for centuries.
“We must wait and see,” Morcyth’s Rep stated. “The portents are favorable, I will grant you. But there is no such thing as a guaranteed success where humans are concerned. They are a capricious lot.”
“Gyomias is already on the move.” Asran’s Rep drew everyone’s attention. “When your agent stopped Dmon-Li, he did so in such a way that created a void. Gyomias seeks to take advantage.”
“Are you certain of this?” Corinthia’s Rep asked.
“His fleets are nearly complete. Soon, he will send his forces north.”
Turning to Igor, she asked, “And will your man be up to the task?”
Igor hesitated before responding. No small amount of doubt and worry coursed through his mind. Before this would be over, James would be called upon to do something, something which Igor was not entirely sure if he could be convinced needed to be done. Yet doing so was absolutely vital.
Finally, he nodded. “Yes.”
Chapter One
Two beggars walked the streets of Abu Dar.
There had been a time when Abu Dar was a calm and not too congested town. Nestled on the southern shore of the Empire, it was a trading city though not nearly as important as Port Tyr, its neighbor to the east.
Over the course of the last century, while the great trading houses had made Port Tyr a major hub of commerce and culture, those of Abu Dar had been content with simply earning a profit while maintaining as much of its small-town charm as possible.
As the years progressed, Abu Dar did grow though it was controlled and measured. It had been during the Troubles sixty years ago that the wall had been built. If not for the raids by those seeking to throw off the Empire’s yolk, it would to this day be open and unencumbered by a large and formidable protective wall. But there it loomed; in the way of the inhabitants and blocking the view of the sea that they loved.
Today the calm was but a wistful memory; panicked, frantic people packed the streets. Most had only recently had their lives turned upside-down by the invaders, either fleeing from Corillian, Port May, or one of the cities dotting the islands. Some had barely escaped with their lives, while those of the northern towns fled upon receiving news of the invasion.
There was still very little known about the invaders other than that they came from across the sea. Farlanders, the seamen called them. People of legend whom until recently, most had considered little more than myth; a story told around a mug of ale at day’s end.
Some still failed to believe that they were the Farlanders of the seamen’s tale. A land beyond the end of the ocean? Preposterous! Yet none could deny that someone brought war to the Empire, and war that no one had ever seen before. Strange magical machines against which they had no defense. Who were they? What was their intention? And would they be satisfied with the islands off the coast? None knew though rumor spread like wildfire.
“I tell you this is the Kirken Federation,” some believed.
“Secret weapons developed by some Warlord I’d wager,” others insisted.
“Rubbish. This is the work of The Dark Mage!” even more would say if asked. Most would say, even if not asked. Speculation about who they were and where their next attack would next fall was served in the local taverns, rumors flowed even more freely than ale.
A beggar dressed in fine clothes whose day had long come and gone, shook his head. He grinned upon hearing yet again how The Dark Mage was behind it.
“If they only knew.”
Azhan glanced to Miko, then said in an all but silent whisper, “What do you think they would do if they knew he was not more than two blocks away?”
Dressed in nice clothes that looked like they had fallen on hard times, faces smudged with dirt, and hair uncombed and unruly, Miko shrugged. “Flee for their lives I would imagine.”
The High Priest of Morcyth and The Dark Mage’s apprentice were on their way to meet with a group of street kids. Miko was the natural choice for this type of work as he had grown up on the streets and knew them better than anyone. Azhan accompanied him as he could readily speak the language; and in these troubled times, having a mage at your side could prove beneficial.
Abu Dar had been chosen as the site of the temple Igor requested they build. It had also been decided that it be Morcyth’s, as if that had been in contention. Initially, James considered being the priest in charge, but that thought had quickly been put to rest. Miko felt Father Keller should be the one to head Abu Dar’s newest temple and so it would be.
“Why not you?” Kip had asked Miko.
“I cannot very well be a beggar one day and priest the next. No, Father Keller will do very well as High Priest in Abu Dar.”
