Published by: eXtasy Books
Word Count :34808
Publication Date :2019-10-04
Series : Storyteller#5
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-4874-2563-0
Tomorrow’s light burns brightly in the wake of today’s shadow…
Earth begins to heal with the passage of time. It starts with the land, different than the last time, when life began in the sea. Shadow’s twins, Morgan and Michaela, have come a long way, but their paths have diverged. Michaela is air and dragon, making her home in the mountains. While on the coast, Morgan is water and leviathan. He is drawn to The Old Writings, to tales of mages, black, white, and gray. He seeks to gain respect for the black mages of the past—which they’ve never had—by creating life. If he can do that, he believes he can become a deity and earn the respect long denied him.
Shadow is unexpectedly drawn into a situation she cannot control, and only the aid of Ghost keeps her from certain death. To the others, she has simply vanished. Her disappearance hits Dodger hard, and he leaves everyone behind, including his oldest friend, Raz. In the wake of Dodger’s absence, Raz discovers his own destiny, and he doesn’t shirk in doing his duty.
Morgan’s anger—and his overwhelming desire to create life—threaten the future of a world that is trying to heal and move on from its past. Is history doomed to be repeated? Has humankind learned nothing? Is all lost, or will a savior rise to save Earth from destruction?
Morgan was ninety-five now and looked nineteen. He remembered the words spoken by the gray mage one night about his destiny. It seemed as though the old human was reading them again. He remembered the day at the docks and the wondrous thing that only he saw, the monster that was his to control.
Morgan walked the same path he always took to the coast. He stopped just outside the city limits and surveyed the area. The first time he saw this place, he chose to claim it as his domain. He shook his head at the pitiful shack he had built some time ago. To label it dilapidated was an understatement.
He looked out to the vast body of water. The sea called to him, each wave a beckoning hand. It summoned like a siren, luring him into its arms, like a haunting seductress.
Morgan walked to the water’s edge, and its mysterious pull bade him to come closer. His boot touched the water. Power raced through him with a jolting force that pushed him back. He stepped back into the water, shaking off the overwhelming force. The sea swirled around his boot, glided across his toe, slid over the instep, then wrapped its way up, above his knee. He held out his hand, and the sea leaped to touch his fingers, weaving through each digit, then covering his hand. “Interesting. Can you build me a house if I don’t use a spell and simply will it into being?”
As he drew in the air with his hands and formed the building in his mind, the water followed every move. The land flattened, and then the building came to life. A house of water quickly solidified into something similar to stone. He added a door to the front and back wall of the rather large house. He nestled several tinted glass windows in the walls, each spot selected to avoid the morning sun.
“Impressive.” Morgan admired his handiwork, then stepped out of the water and realized he was completely dry. “There should be a dock from the house to the water.” The lack of response raised his brow. “Interesting. No water connection, no result.” He extended a hand and beckoned the water. “Come.” The sea reached out and wrapped around his arm. He admired it. “A simple command obeyed. Let’s try this again.” The picture in his mind became reality when a dock of water appeared, then turned as solid as the house.
It seemed that when he was in contact with the sea, creating was almost more a whim than anything. Water and food might be scarce without a replicator and condenser, but…
“A test.” Morgan moved away from the water, picked up a leaf, and willed the transformation. “Apple.” Nothing happened. Then he stepped back into the water and repeated the process. This time the leaf changed into a dark red fruit. He expectantly dug his thumbs into it and broke it apart. It looked like a ripe apple inside. After biting it, he mulled over the flavor, then swallowed. “Sweet, yet tart.” Perfect. My desires seem willed into reality when in contact with the water. Perhaps one day I can turn the words of any spell into a mere formality.
“I need you closer to the house.” He created a trench for the water so it reached the edge of the house. With the water still swirling around his hand, Morgan entered the house through the back door. He decorated the inside with furniture, placing items where he desired. “Food.” He willed a collection of various breads, cheeses, fruits, and wines into being, then sampled a bite and nodded approvingly. “I have good taste. Much better than the old place. Now, transportation.”
Morgan loved how the water improved and simplified his magic. Learned spells still worked like normal spells, with the use of words in Latin, but with water literally at his fingertips, there was no stopping whatever he willed into existence.
He went back outside and stood a couple yards away from the water, scanning the area for an abandoned form of transportation. Then he spotted a rusty battered old car beside a tree. “Water, come.” The sea wrapped around his hand, and he mentally pictured the vehicle he wanted. He willed the picture in his mind into reality, including a loaded card in the glovebox. He walked around the sleek black two-door Mystic. “Much better than Raz’s, if I do say so myself.”
Morgan opened the glovebox and grabbed the card. “Nice.” He returned to the water—still feeling proud of his latest creation. Willing was far easier than casting. With a simple thought, Morgan altered his clothes as well. He sat in his car, turned the key, and listened to the engine purr. He drove into town, pulled into a parking lot, and eyed the dark-haired woman walking toward the building next door, then whistled softly. When she smiled in his direction, he gestured for her to come closer.
She walked up to the car and leaned down to see him. “What can I do for you, handsome?”
“It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” Morgan devoured her with his gaze.
She smiled coyly. “And just what can you do for me?”
“Make your wildest pleasures and dreams come true.”
“Sounds a little too conceited for me.”
Her sarcasm burned his amiable mood. “Not believing me can get you killed.”
“Arrogant ass.” She rolled her eyes and walked away, laughing.
“Hey.” He recalled a spell he’d stolen from Raz’s mind.
She turned around. “What?”
Morgan conjured a miniature knife and pressed it between his palms. The tiny blade bit into his left palm and painlessly drew a drop of blood from it. “Libera sarin per ventus.” A shimmering transparent smoke from his hands traveled into the woman’s nose.
Her eyes widened as she clutched her throat and backed away from him. Within seconds, she fell to the ground and writhed in screaming agony, gasping for air. Vomiting, urination, and defecation began as blood began to pour from her nose, mouth, eyes, and ears.
The street quickly filled with people gathering around her dead body.
“So that’s what sarin does.” Morgan exited the car and slipped into the bar nearby. He sat on one of the stools at the counter, then glanced around.