Forgotten Mage Read online

  Forgotten Mage

  Title Page

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER VIII

  CHAPTER IX

  CHAPTER X

  CHAPTER XI

  CHAPTER XII

  CHAPTER XIII

  CHAPTER XIV

  CHAPTER XV

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHAPTER XVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XIX

  CHAPTER XX

  CHAPTER XXI

  CHAPTER XXII

  CHAPTER XXIII

  CHAPTER XXIV

  CHAPTER XXV

  CHAPTER XXVI

  CHAPTER XXVII

  CHAPTER XVIII

  CHAPTER XXIX

  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.

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  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 marblewoo
d 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?”

  Accepted my fate? Who should decide my fate other than myself? You are too much like your father in that regard. He always accepted what was placed in front of him out of fear that he might be wrong. Do not do as he did and go through life just trying to please others.

  “My father was a great man,” Bren said defensively. “Everyone still talks about how he saved not only Farlan from the brotherhood, but all of the races.”

  Yes your father was a great man, but an idiot. He spent his last ounce of strength saving you and I would rather run myself out of magic and let my gems break then have you turn out to be of no more of importance than a stable boy. No, I have far greater plan for you.

  “So now you would decide my fate?” Bren replied accusingly. “What is this grand plan that you would have me follow?”

  For starters, I would have you learn that you are only as great as you decide to be. Your father fell into his power by chance and look what he did. Starting out as a slave and becoming one of the most worshiped men in the realms. The other thing would be finding your father. I think you owe him that much for what he has given you.

  Bren stopped in mid-stride. “My father is dead.” The words stumbled out of his mouth, drawing both Sandrea’s and his mother’s attention.

  If he was dead, I would know it. I can still feel him and that means that somewhere he still exists and I need you to find out where. There is still hope for your father as long as the link between him and I is not severed.

  Bren followed his mother and sister, his mind whirling with what he had just learned. If his father was truly alive then Bren had to find him. If he did so, all the harsh looks and mumbled words would cease. He would no longer be the child who killed his father, but the one who saved him.

  It looks like I finally have your attention. That is good, because the first thing you are going to have to do is assert your position as the leaders of the mage lands and for god’s sake, give it a better name. Your father and the other council members have never given it a true name out of fear that the other kingdoms might see them as more than just a small piece of land where people of magical origin live.

  As soon as they were within the confines of the study, Maria bolted the door and turned on her son. “How could you do that to your sister on such an important day?” she asked, her voice pitched high and her face flaming red.

  “I did nothing mother,” Bren proclaimed. “The staff refused Sandrea and came to me of its own will.”

  “Why would your father’s staff refuse his only daughter and heir to my throne?” Maria asked vehemently.

  “I do not know mother, but it has,” Bren said lying. In truth he knew that Thuraman hated women.

  “Give the staff to your sister this instant,” Maria ordered.

  Bren held out the staff as he was told. “You can try and take it, but the staff will not follow you.”

  Sandrea stretched out her hand and sparks of blue energy arced across her fingers, burning her flesh. “Don’t hurt her,” Bren pleaded with the staff, but it ignored his voice. The gem on the top of the staff started to hum and glow brightly and Bren could fell the power building within it. “Stop,”
Bren yelled yanking the staff from his sister’s touch. “I am sorry sister, but the staff meant to harm you.”

  “There is no way something of your fathers would try and harm his own blood,” Maria declared.

  “Have you ever heard Thuraman’s voice?” Bren asked, his voice steady. “I have heard it for far longer than I have heard yours mother. When you left me alone in my youth, it was Thuraman who kept me company. You might blame me for father’s death, but it does not,” Bren’s words came out calm, but there was no hiding the anger that was hidden within them.

  “I do not…” Maria began to say, but the look in her son’s eyes halted her words.

  “Tomorrow I will leave the palace as it is obvious that I am not wanted here,” Bren said turning around and heading for the door.

  “How can you think that Bren,” Maria said weakly as tears formed in her eyes. “You are my son and you will always be wanted.”

  Bren ignored his mother’s words and left the study, leaving the door hanging open behind him. It had been first time in his life he had spoken his mind to his mother and while his anger was still burning hot inside, his stomach churned. Bren could feel the regret already entering his mind and for a brief moment he thought of going back to his mother.

  If you do that, you will never be able to start your own life. It is past time that some of those things have been said and much more. I may not like your mother, but she was always nice to your father and without him she has turned into her mother.

  As soon as he was within his room, Bren crawled under his bed and pulled his father’s old pack and sword. Of all the things his father owned, these were the only two that he had kept from Sandrea’s grasp.

  “I knew that you kept them under your bed, but what would I do with a dusty pack and a sword? There is no need for a mage to carry a blade into battle,” Sandrea declared from behind him as if she could read his thoughts.

  “I am so gracious that you didn’t wish to take everything of our fathers from me,” Bren replied sarcastically.