Revised Prologue to Book One

Around December 2016, I had my first book published. Unfortunately, due to certain errors scattered throughout, I felt it needed to be redeemed. The first error was that I had used Word 2007, which was 6-8 years old at the time it was written and completed as I couldn’t afford the latest edition of MS Office. After acquiring Word 2016 and finally Grammarly, I set out on a year-long task of correcting every mistake I could find. I was exacting to a fault, though freely admit something was probably missed, and if so will stay.

Below is a sample from the revised version in the form of the prologue. If you wish to read the original, you can find it in paperback and pdf in the first link, or on Kindle in the second.

1. http://www.rpgnow.com/product/199115/The-Chronicles-of-Ardis-Concordance

2. https://www.amazon.com/Chronicles-Ardis-Book-Concordance-ebook/dp/B075WMWW6W/ref=tmm_other_meta_binding_title_sr?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1506971474&sr=8-1

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Prologue

He ran.

Keeping close to the shadows the auburn-haired youth traced a maddening path toward the river. Once crossed, everything would be fine. However, those shores were filled with ancient ruins and littered with dilapidated statues, all steeped in sinister stories. Few dared to visit unless they were adventurous, reckless, or desperate. Being the lattermost, he believed it was the only place where no one in their right mind would follow. Once there and safe he could attend to more pressing concerns; the gash on his cheek whose blood had long dried, and the burns across portions of his jaw, torso, and back. For now, he forced himself to ignore those deep, throbbing, stinging sensations threatening to drive him insane and keep going.

            Panting, he’d forgotten how long he’d been running; adrenaline was the only thing edging him ever onward to his destination. There was only a sequence of events playing out in his mind, beginning with a joyous occasion. He and his wife had come to see her father, King Orden, with news of a child expected in the coming months. That feeling of joy and celebration was transformed into fear and chaos with news of rebels attacking the keep. It was funny, he mused, the young prince hadn’t heard of any dissidence within his father-in-law’s kingdom, much less the possibility of conflict or even war…               

            The door burst open, the guards protecting it slain. The half-naked youth barely had time to retrieve his trousers, much less find his sword. Fierce green eyes glimpsed two swordsmen, an archer readying a bow, and a fourth sinking back into the shadows.

            Despite his shortcomings with a blade, all apprehension faded. Charged at with unexpected ferocity, the first attacker was knocked unconscious with the pommel. After a series of thrusts, parries, and jabs, the second attacker was cut down, leaving the archer letting loose his arrow. The prince leaped into its path; a second faster and it would have struck him… instead of her. A gasp escaped her lips; eyes of ocean blue cast a downward glance toward the arrow lodged deep in her chest and then to her husband rushing toward her as she sunk to the floor. Holding her tight, he repeatedly insisted everything would be alright. When she went limp in his arms, grief transformed to rage.

            Turning toward the archer knocking back another arrow, he reached out with his left hand and drew it violently into a fist. The arrow was let loose, but not before the archer dropped to his knees screaming in indescribable agony. Every nerve fiber of his being was hyperstimulated, inflaming every portion of his body. The sailing arrow grazed the prince’s cheek; a small price in exchange for the suffering he gladly inflicted upon this murderer. Writhing uncontrollably on the floor the archer continued to scream in pain, even begging for mercy. Green eyes lit with fervent hatred heightened it further and ceased abruptly, catching sight of the fourth figure previously hidden in the shadows…     

            The room was engulfed in an intense white-hot brightness, blinding to behold. He brought his arms up to shield his face and turned away. It was now his turn to scream…

            By happenstance a compartment had been found beneath the bed, allowing him to slip away before anyone else arrived. Exiting in the courtyard, he used the ongoing chaos to slip away; once clear of the area, he began an all-out run for his life. The prince knew they would enter the room and find their archer and sorcerer little more than vegetables. A search would then expand to the castle itself and finally the release of the hounds; a risk he had to take. Truthfully his scent wasn’t difficult to discern; one only had to follow the smell of fresh blood and charred flesh through the woods. Periodically the youth slowed down, but the sounds of footsteps and howls over the beating of his hearts in his ears forced him to pick up the pace once more.

            Coming to the water’s edge he paused in preparation to dive; the sounds of growling changed things. Swallowing slowly, he heard additional footsteps and growling; fear and desperation faded into determination. A soft lyrical chant began. Eyes narrowed, upper lip slightly upturned, and flaring nostrils, he turned slowly toward the pack. Unwavering, it grew steadily louder and then faded into nothingness as he faced them, his hands cupping his mouth. Watching the five hounds stalk closer, observing him for the smallest movement to exploit, he quietly inhaled a lung full of air, paused as they drew nearer, and then exhaled…

            Cupped hands opened in a shouting fashion, releasing a swarm of fireflies that poured freely from his mouth and flew toward the hounds. Confused, their attention shifted toward sickly pulses of green and yellow until they were mesmerized. After a few seconds, there was a yip, followed by another, and then another until they were all yipping. Yipping gave way to growling and then whimpering. Duty gave way to instinct; upon bolting, away they were immediately enveloped by the insects. Howls of anguish echoed for several seconds and then silenced as they were wholly devoured leaving no trace of their existence.

            With their meal finished, the swarm came together, sped back toward their creator and encircled him in a pulsing ring of yellow-green light before fading into the ether. With that, he, in turn, fell into the cool embrace of the river below.

            Ignoring the chill, he sunk deep into the water, letting it wash over the cuts and burns on his worn body. The adrenaline had slowly begun to subside. Crawling onto the bank, he stood up and stumbled forward into the nearby foliage, falling on his knees out of exhaustion. Tears that had begun when he held his dying wife returned in full force and he cried harder than he’d ever done in his life.

            "I say, that was truly a most impressive display back there…"

            Swallowing them back, his head darted up and around attempting to locate the source of the voice. Meanwhile, he began to recall the stories; some returned from this place ‘changed’ or ‘altered,’ becoming totally mad. The worst was reduced to little more than incoherent babbling, scrawling incomprehensible patterns on the walls in their own blood. Others… didn’t come back at all…

            "You have nothing to fear from me… come closer… to the well… yes… closer now…"

            The verdant eyed prince was unsure why he was trying to locate its origin, or for that matter whom that voice belonged to, only that he felt drawn to it. The words echoed deeply in his thoughts, more felt and sensed than heard. Trekking further into a forest lit only by the light of two moons, he came upon a clearing and the remnants of a temple. Great marble columns lay in various stages of disarray and neglect around him. Some had toppled, creating copious amounts of rubble; others stood silently as a testament to a forgotten time. However, there was a singular commonality: a series of unfamiliar flowing runes richly etched upon their surfaces in combinations of spiraling lines ascending and descending across their surfaces. He could almost swear they were glowing…

            "There you are. Very few come to this place anymore."

            In the center of the complex was a well of black granite covered in the same flowing runes found on the pillars. Within it was water suffused with a milky glow of azure, crimson, and violet, imparting an opalescent quality to it.

            “Who are you?”

            "Who are you?"

            He opened his mouth and only silence came forth. The memories resurfaced, and the auburn-haired youth turned his face away in shame as evident as the burns on his body.

            “I’m… I’m a prince who failed to protect his own wife, save his own father-in-law… who could do nothing to help… who was a failure? She died…” He looked back toward the well. “She died in my arms and I could do nothing to save her…”

            "I see… and what now young Prince?"

            “I have to recover what was taken. I could easily get help and drive those murderers from this land. The campaign could take years, but it could be done.”

            “And once this is accomplished, this land will be yours to rule, correct?”

            “It… it will…”

          “And what of others seeking to usurp you? You live in an uncertain world; your ordeal is but one of many examples. Bandits become kings, kings become paupers, borders wax and wane and threats increase or decrease. That is the cycle of things.”

            “Cycles can be broken, surely!” He insisted.   

            “They can if you want them to be.” The voice returned.

            Twin pools of brilliant green gazed circumspectly back at the well, hands brushing the auburn strands still lingering before his eyes as he listened. The honey intonated words filling his ears caused him to regard the well with more caution than before.

            “What do you want?”

            “What do I want?” The voice returned curiously. “I suppose all things have a price. You see, I have dwelt on your world for a very long time. I watched as your race rose into being, establishing the first cities, governments, and territories. I have witnessed countless cycles of peace, war, and uncertainty. The cost is a simple one young prince: freedom. Free me, and you will have everything you ask for. But first I must know what you want.”

            “What do I want!?” He almost shouted. “I… I want the strength and endurance to restore and protect this land from any possible threats! I… I want the resilience and wherewithal to accomplish this challenge, and the resolve to face any further danger, no matter how great, with unrivaled tenacity! Could you truly grant me all of this?”

"Yes."

            He swallowed, his hearts pounding loudly in his chest. The answer was given so easily. 

            “And what assurance do I have that you will keep your word? How do I know I’m not unleashing great and terrible darkness upon my world? How can I trust you?”

“Touch the water and know my words are true…”

            He swallowed once more, regarding the well with fear and uncertainty. Approaching its edge, the prince studied the runes etched upon its surface and finally the water itself. Again, the sounds and images of the evening returned to the fore. He could hear shouts for reinforcements, the attackers breaking down the door, and amidst all of that, his beautiful wife. He saw her falling to the floor, him reaching out and taking her hand, and assuring her that everything would be alright until the light had left her eyes. And throughout all this, the prince realized the worst of it; he’d never know the child that they were bringing into the world…

           

            The verdant orbed youth plunged his left hand into the water and let out a primal scream. His body was swiftly suffused with the incredible and terrifying light of the well…