The Turret of Faith: Prologue/Introduction

This is meant to be a prologue and a brief introduction of my man heroes rolled into one.

    The unfinished sword pulsed with the heat of the dying embers. The old dwarf and his son worked tirelessly into the night with a fervor known only to the greatest craftsmen. The son works the bellows, bringing the coals back to life. The father swings his hammer, shaping the titanium to his will. Finally, the sword is ready to be tempered. Again and again the sword is heated and cooled, heated and cooled, until it is as strong as the diamonds that helped to create it. The son begins to bless the sword using an ancient magic known only to the dwarfs. Alas, he is too tired to concentrate properly. His spell spins horribly out of control. The forge rocks as if smote by a giant hand, a terrible storm rages outside, the fire spews forth its smoldering remains. Darkness falls on the devastated forge.
    Slowly, Wolfe Greytome opens his eyes. Staggering to his feet, he surveys his damaged forge. A slight movement catches his eye. Hurriedly, he tries to unearth his son from the rubble crushing the life from his diminutive body. Unfortunately, Wolfe is to slow and succeeds only in recovering a corpse. Reverently, Wolfe lifts the body of his fifth and final son, and begins the long journey to the family crypt. While laying his son to rest in the icy vault, Wolfe is overcome and his agony is mirrored in the plaintive howling of Conall, the great wolf who has been at Wolfe’s side since he took his first steps.
    As he passes by his forge on the way home, Wolfe’s eye is drawn to a tiny sliver of light gleaming amid the ruins. Carefully, he begins to shift the massive piles of debris. The sword he uncovers burns with the fire of the ethereal plane. A weapon both blessed and cursed, not even the gods can foresee its destiny. With one edge, it can unite the lands. With the other, destroy them. As he pulls the sword from the ashes of his former livelihood, Wolfe knows he must venture forth and bring the sword to the Turret of Faith and learn who is destined to wield it.
    Ashete runs with the strength and determination of one possessed. Her lungs burning and her calves feeling like lead, Ashete grins back at her pursers as they turn back to their homes. She knew they could never have caught her. After all, she is the swiftest runner amongst her people. Besides, with a quick flick of her fingers she could make their horses sink into a bog or fall asleep or even fall dead in mid-stride. This, of course, she did not consider sporting and even a thief can have morals. So, she ran and gave her victims a chance to reclaim their purloined items. Slowing to a leisurely walk, Ashete turns her attention to the pouches she acquired that night. A few pieces of copper, a silver dagger, some tobacco and two pieces of titanium. An excellent night’s work. She could live off the copper alone for weeks, but with two pieces of titanium! She can finally outfit herself properly, with new clothes and some decent spell books.
    A few days travel south, Ashete comes to the village of Valina, where she buys her clothes and spell books from a wizened merchant in a shabby marketplace. He also tells her of a fabled place, the Great Library of Maeghis, located in the lost Turret of Faith. According to legend, the Library of Maeghis contains the most powerful spell books known to the races, but only those with magic in their blood may handle the books of Maeghis the Unassailable. As you can guess, Ashete sets out to find this Turret of Faith, not knowing that she has just sealed her fate.
    Titan beat his powerful wings in a tireless rhythm as he watched the Magenta Sea slide smoothly away beneath his massive form. The day was perfect for a good stretch of the wings and maybe a quick swim before catching his daily meal. Perhaps he would hunt inland today. Yes, a nice buck would be rather tasty; he was tiring of the giant lobster found along the base of the Dragon Cliffs. As he flew toward his lair, Titan reminisced over his many, many years on the continent of Nimue. Four-thousand years since he first broke open his shell. And what does he have after all these years - nothing. Just a desolate cave by the sea, memories of better days and a few friends scattered across the land. Like that elven prince, Cadeyrn. “What is he getting up to these days,” wondered the mighty titanium dragon.
    Cadeyrn was fast asleep in his bed chamber in the elven capitol, Ayelen, when he was awakened by another tremor. He hurries to the Alter of Taranis, God of Thunder, in hope of gaining clarity of the reasons behind these recent disasters. And to pray for Taranis’ intervention on behalf of the elven people. As he kneels before the plain granite alter, Cadeyrn knows he must travel far to the north and enter the Turret of Faith, where everything will be made clear.

 

Author's Note

This is a VERY rough first draft. I realize the flow is very choppy and will obviously need smoothed out.

Reviews

[Stacey Watts]

So far a really great start. This was very well written the story line. I like the medieval feel to this. I like your characters they are very personable. This will be a great book.