Roksov stood atop a tower, looking down upon the ruined city of Klerh, capital of Klietus. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burning buildings and bodies and cloying scent of death. His troops still swarmed through the crumbling streets, rivers of black amongst the gray and flaming red.
"What is it Eli?" Roksov asked, turning around. Eli had frozen exactly where Roksov had known he would; right in front of the torn apart body of Faern, the late puppet-king or Klietus.
"I take it he didn't cooperate," Eli said, swallowing hard, eye still riveted on the gaping hole in Faern's throat.
"It's not like we expected him to."
"I know. But I had hoped...." Roksov felt a twinge of pity for Eli, mixed with a wave of gratefulness. How hard it must be for a healer to view all this death and destruction... He knew Eli hated every minute of it, knew he was kept awake by nightmares, knew that his pack had rejected him for following Roksov. But through it all, Eli had kept a brave face and done all he could to help their cause.
"Eli." Finally, he looked away from the body. "What did you come up here for? I know you had a purpose."
"O-oh, yes." He paled, fear entering his eyes. "It's the-" He tensed for half a second then spun around, take several steps away from the door.
Three figures stepped out of the dark, blending in so well they seemed to be wearing the night as cloaks. They were swathed in blacks robes, a ceremonial knife hanging at each hip. Masks covered their faces, each bearing identical, peaceful expressions. But across each mask, someone had painted a swath of deep red, permanently staining them. The dishonored priests of Lethorglik.
"So, you've decided to join me." Roksov smirked. "A far better choice than the one the priests of Brindynak made." He'd had no reservations in killing him. Their god was not his own; they preached falsities. The priests didn't respond.
One stepped forward, and held something out. It was an onyx gem the size of his fist, filled with a swirling red light.
"A chaos stone..." he breathed. He fingers itched to touch it, but he knew better than to directly meddle with chaos magic of this magnitude. The priest reached inside their robe and drew out another chaos stone; the other two doing so as well.
"We have dozens of these." The priest's voice had a tinny sound to it, neither male nor female. "And a myriad of other artifacts at our disposal. All are yours to use- as long as we are allowed to take over the temples of our god."
"Your temples are meaningless to me. Have all of them, if you want."
The three priests knelt in unison, their robes flapping around them like raven's wings.
"We are at your disposal, Roksov Wolfson," they chorused, their voices dead and hollow, "King of Klietus and future king of Saevus."
End of Book One
We made it!!!! Thank you all so much for reading!
And I'm really, really, really, REALLY sorry, but the next book won't be coming for a while. I've still got The Wolves of Wullferg Keep to edit, and after that I'm writing the 5th 1st draft of Magic Stones and the Reign of Chaos. Stay tuned for more details about it!
Love you all! See you later perki pargas.
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Age of War: Book One - Alliance of Wolves
Fantasy"I wasn't raised to be a king, I was raised to be a monster." No truer words were ever spoken about Drew Hawthorne. Werewolf and gladiator, all he has ever known is death and hatred. Until one day he's given an opportunity, a purpose, by Roksov, lea...
