Rise of Centuria Read online

  Ptolemy’s body jerked and he snapped back to attention on Palo and the elder. He let his mind wander again and he started to get concerned. Was he losing it? Would he be able to control the thoughts? How was he supposed to focus when his memories kept taking over? He decided to focus on what was developing around him. The elder’s face had turned pale when he saw the vision, but his color had returned. The servants gave the elder another drink that was steaming and smelled of strong herbs. With trembling hands, the elder took the crystal glass and carefully drank the concoction. Ptolemy became unsure of himself and started to shake as well.

  They sat quietly waiting for the elder to speak about what they had just witnessed, tensions rising as the silence struck them like a well-sharpened sword. Ready to burst, Ptolemy couldn’t take it anymore and asked, “What just happened there?” Palo glared at him for the disrespectful interruption but quickly changed his expression when the elder raised a hand toward him signaling it was okay.

  The elder answered with a soft and gentle voice, “Visions of what is to be. Places. Places that are and shall be.” He hesitated. “The demon lord is a creature of destruction and seeks nothing but. Sapping the very essence of all that is living makes him more powerful. A terrible curse. A curse that drives its host to do anything, good or evil, for more.” He let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders drooped. Palo took the gesture as a sign to leave the red hut with their visitor. Ptolemy followed Palo out and wondered about the many meanings of the words the elder had just spoken.

  Ptolemy set off the next morning after breakfast into the lagartos’ woods. It was not long before he felt someone following him and he was on his guard. A small figure snuck up behind him and before it could say or do anything, Ptolemy had taken his sword and stabbed it. Realizing he had just impaled a dwarf that was following him, Ptolemy began to cry. When he came to his senses, Ptolemy dropped to his knees and crawled over to the still dwarf grabbing his wet sword on the way over. What have I done? was the question that repeated in his mind. He choked on his own sobs trying to calm himself. He felt his body shaking. He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard a thunderous boom nearby.

  The roots sprung up through the ground, wrapped around the dwarf and pulled him into the earth below. Ptolemy gasped. He tried reaching for the dwarf, but he was not quick enough and there was no point in trying to fight the roots. The dwarf was already dead.

  Ptolemy looked around to see flames lighting up the trees surrounding him. A few words his dad had taught him not to say came out of his mouth. Ptolemy quickly thought about magic and his newfound abilities. He summoned the dirt around him to rise and spin in midair. Then he commanded the dirt funnel to overcome the flames and extinguish them, as a result clearing a path for himself and himself alone. His powers were great, but they were no match to stop an entire forest fire on his own. He did not want to waste precious energy using more magic than necessary, for magic took its toll on the caster. He pushed forward till the smoke and fire began to clear. His eyes watered, and he coughed violently. Soot marked his hands and face, and hot ashes floated around the air. Ptolemy looked up at the thinning trees only to realize that the trees had not thinned, but the many branches above had burned away and fallen on the thick trees that once held them. The trunks remained strong but were covered with soot as well. Ptolemy could only imagine the pain the trees felt, if they could feel anything at all, and it made him feel squeamish.

  The horrific feeling in his gut grew worse when he heard a bellowing roar nearby. He recognized it right away. Emalf was nearby and raising hell. The forest fire was his doing. Ptolemy, although powerful with his new magic skills, still had a ways to go before taking on a being like Lord Emalf and he knew that all too well. He also knew that the demon lord was seeking artifacts, one which was in his possession, to take over and destroy Palatovia. Nobody understood why Lord Emalf wanted to destroy Palatovia, but they knew it was his motivation to find the artifacts that would enable him to do so without anyone being able to stop him.

  Ptolemy crept around a nearby tree and peeked around the edge of it to see a glimpse of the demon laughing and setting things afire. His skull-like face was pulled up into a wicked grin that sent chills down Ptolemy’s spine. At the demon’s feet, Ptolemy saw three lagartos and a goat chained up to a makeshift post in the ground. The lagartos had lashes across their backs and arms from a hot whip, and the goat was left unharmed but had ashes in its fur. Emalf cried out, “Bring me the artifacts or I will finish them off!” Ptolemy swallowed hard. He knew he had one of the artifacts, the Book of Stars, that Emalf was calling out for. He also knew that giving up one artifact was not going to be enough to spare the lives of Emalf’s prisoners. He had to think of another way to save them, and he had to think of it quick.

  Ptolemy looked around at the burning trees, the leaves, and hot ground around them all. Emalf was setting things aflame, but on his face he had burn marks. Ptolemy wondered how a demon of flames could be burned and only one thought came to mind, magic. Magic fire had to be the cause of the burn scars on his face. Ptolemy closed his eyes and thought hard about the fire magic he read about in the Book of Stars. Nothing in particular came to mind that he thought would be useful. Then he prayed softly for Sherson’s guidance. A gentle breeze blew through the forest and he immediately knew what had to be done.

  He took off in a sprint toward the three lagartos and the goat.

  The lagartos screamed at him, “Go away, it’s a trap!” but he ignored them. He knew it was a trap. Emalf heard the screaming and turned toward his chained prisoners grimacing with delight. He conjured up a large orange and yellow fireball in the palms of his hands and threw it toward Ptolemy’s back. When it was several feet from Ptolemy’s back it exploded against a clear barrier that flashed green when struck by magic. It was now Ptolemy’s turn to laugh. He grabbed the chains and crumbled them with the might Sherson had left him. The prisoners were grateful, yet still terrified of what Emalf was going to do next, and the goat stood still paralyzed with fear.

  Ptolemy yelled at them over the sound of crackling flames, “Get back to your city as quickly as you can!” They stumbled over each other at first and started making headway to the hidden city. Ptolemy watched their backs and kept them protected with magic as long as he could. Emalf threw fireballs at them but to no avail. Ptolemy’s green aura had protected them. Annoyed by the protection spell, Emalf decided to turn his attention to the one responsible. A shower of fireballs rained down on Ptolemy’s position, but they were all deflected. He stood there watching Emalf cautiously for he knew the green aura only protected him from other magic. The fire demon started to charge toward Ptolemy, and Ptolemy turned into his bird form and flew off. Emalf was able to keep up with him for he had the ability to levitate for short periods of time. Ptolemy flew in and out of the trees while Emalf leapt onto tree branches and through the thick brush ignoring all the cuts and scrapes branches left across him. Ptolemy wanted to stand and fight, but he could not convince himself that fighting alone was the best idea at the time.

  He knew the demon lord was very powerful and had his doubts about his own strengths. Ptolemy started to become breathless from the escape and knew he had to outsmart his pursuer soon. He dipped in and out of the low shrubs, and then flew high into the trees and back down again. Then he remembered a place in the woods that even Lord Emalf wouldn’t be able to follow him through. It was a large cliff and waterfall that dropped many yards. A larger drop than even one with the ability to levitate could survive.

  Ptolemy turned in the direction of the waterfall and beat his wings as fast as he could. Emalf was gaining on him. He could hear the demon breathing heavily and cursing at him. Not much farther he kept thinking to himself. Then he heard it, the steady stream of water falling. Ptolemy turned in the direction of the sound and flew past the edge of the cliff and did not stop. Lord Emalf was hot on his trail and came to a sudden halt when he realized that his path was about to abruptly end.
He stood on the edge of the cliff and continued to throw fireballs at Ptolemy, but they bounced off the green protection aura around him and fell into the body of water below, sizzling as they were drowned out. Ptolemy continued flying onward and decided to go to Centuria, and he hoped he would find some help there. He started to think about his family and wondered what would happen when he saw his mother again. He was sure there was an explanation for what had happened on the Plateau.

  Emalf reappeared in a world different than Palatovia. He hovered over a dilapidated city full of humans bustling in the streets. He looked down at them and sneered. The scent of the humans bothered his senses, but he decided it best not to attack the unfortunate ones in his home world. Their lives were spared because he used them for observation to learn more about the location of the artifacts.

  The people in the streets took no notice of his monstrous size floating above them for they were caught up in their own affairs or had their heads down. Emalf let out a loud roar and the people scattered, running for cover. The streets cleared quickly. Even those that had no home to retreat to went into shops for shelter. Satisfied with striking fear into so many, Emalf grinned madly and let out a deep chuckle, and without the knowledge of one unafraid human watching him from a window below; an old man with gray hair and a staff as ancient as any elder tree stood. The old man kept his eyes locked on Emalf. Thoughts of retaliation crossed his mind, while memories of the battle in the Great Plains and the destruction of the mountain giant plagued him. A woman walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Horace?”

  Horace grabbed the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Adeline, the demon lord is becoming more powerful and his frustration over not finding the artifacts is increasing. It may not be long before he decides he does not need us anymore.” Horace knew the demon lord had spared their lives after their disappearance from Centuria. Emalf had tracked down Horace after he vanished from the battle in the Great Plains by magic residue. Horace’s spells were so powerful they left trace fragments of magic behind. Emalf knew of the magic residue when the mountain giant was conquered. A spell strong enough to bring a mountain to life had to come from a powerful and wise being, and Emalf realized it was Horace. The demon lord followed Horace’s trail after he escaped the wizard’s fortress only to find the humans from Centuria and Horace hiding away on his home planet.

  Adeline asked, “What do you plan on doing?”

  Horace responded after a moment of thought, “We wait and see what happens.”

  Chapter Four

  A yellow flower blew across the main alley in the city of Salidon. A young girl with long, straight, and silky blonde hair chased it as her hair unfurled like a flag. She didn’t notice a boy a few years younger watching her with curious eyes. His eyes were a brilliant light blue and they gleamed with love and charisma or so he had been told. His lashes were long and curled and ladies just fell in love with traits he had no control over. The yellow flower switched directions in the wind and crossed in front of him. Before he could sneak off or hide, the girl with the long, silky blonde hair was standing before him. The wind stopped and the flower fell to the ground between them, and at the same time, she said his name with melody in her voice, “Nathan?” Nathan tried averting his eyes, but a desire stronger than his will made him look into hers. They stared at each other briefly soaking in the sight before them. Her lashes fluttered and she smiled. “My dear Nathan, how are you?” she said softly. Nathan shifted his weight as if the world was on his shoulders. At the same time he felt like he was floating away.

  Nathan stuttered when he answered, “I’m fine.” Something about the way she said his name brought great joy to his heart, and it was an unusual feeling for him. He didn’t know how to respond. The wind picked up again and Nathan felt the sudden urge to wrap his arms around her in an embrace. He resisted.

  Her dress blew in the breeze and softly rustled. She continued to smile as Nathan searched for more words to say but was too choked up to speak. He wanted to say, “I love you!” at the top of his lungs while his heart beat fast in anticipation for more interaction with her.

  The moment was interrupted when another girl walked beside her and gently took her arm. “Rebecca, your father awaits us in the stables. It is time for our next lesson. We must go!” Rebecca looked at Nathan, wished him a farewell and added, “I hope to see you again soon, yes?” Nathan nodded.

  He spent the rest of the day thinking about her, wishing he had spoken more. He had so much to say but couldn’t get himself to do it. His parents called it stage fright. He looked at it with a different perspective. He didn’t think of it as fright at all. Being around Rebecca was more like filling his jar of emotions with overflowing joy. After letting the moment sink deep into his memory, Nathan continued walking around the city.

  Shops of all sorts lined both sides of the alley. There were glass windows adorned with spectacles of magic, vibrant clothing, shining armor, gifts, flowers, and baked goods. The blacksmith’s shop had a soot-filmed window lined with handcrafted products of the trade. When the entrance to the bakery opened, a strong aroma of the breads and pastries filled the air and attracted many customers. Near the magic shop a pile of multicolored beans bounced wildly on the ground surrounded by kids enjoying the spectacle. One of the kids stepped back from the group and addressed Nathan as he walked toward them. He had to call for his attention several times before getting it. Nathan had been in a daze and lost track of time since his encounter with Rebecca. His friend called him over to the group to play the game with the magic beans and he delightfully accepted the invitation.

  A soaring, majestic castle stood past the shops and the courtyard. Stone walls towered high into the sky topped with white pillars and flag poles. Blue flags waved in the wind. To an outsider, it was difficult to see that the city had suffered from a terrible battle a few months back. Residents in the city continued to work on repairing the damage, but the flood had receded and the walls that had collapsed were standing tall yet again and stronger than ever. Master craftsman and blacksmiths worked together to create a strong infrastructure to the new design of the city walls and shops. King Roberts, the king of Salidon, had hired many skilled men and women to rebuild the city he was so proud to lead.

  He walked the streets of the city as the construction continued, meeting with every worker face to face at least once. He went to the market and bought food and supplies for the families who had lost so much during the battle with the demons and the giant sea monster. He paid for funeral services and provided special donations to those who had lost someone in the fighting.

  The people of Salidon respected their king. He had shown great respect to all and never made anyone feel insignificant or inferior to him although he held the highest position in royalty. He was a king without kin so dedicated to his people and highly educated that he never took the time to take a spouse or start a family of his own. There was something deep within him that he did not share with his people about why he did not have a family of his own. It remained a mystery to all, except to the dragons.

  * * *

  Roberts stood on the beaten path waiting for his dad to return from setting traps in the Dark Forest. It was mid-afternoon on a summer day and the heat made sweat bead on his forehead. On his eighth birthday, his father had told him that it was a day to celebrate and go on a hunting trip with him. As king of Salidon, his father was accompanied by a party of well-trained knights and hunters. With Roberts there were three knights to protect him and help teach him the ways of a good hunt. Roberts’ father, Erik, had taught him many things himself, but he knew that he could not always be by his son’s side to guide him.

  “Prince Roberts.” The knight riding a black stallion with a saddle jeweled with emeralds spoke. “Do you hear that? Your father has just set a few bear traps forty paces from our very position. If you listen closely you can hear the click of the locks. With time and practice you will learn how to use your ears as well as your eyes to
see all that is around you.” Prince Roberts looked at the knight and smiled. “Would you like to know how to train your ears to see?”

  “Yes,” Roberts said timidly. Although in a high position as the son of King Erik, Roberts felt that the knights had much more experience in the ways of the world and he respected them with high regards, maybe even more than they did him. The knight dismounted and walked over to Roberts with a closed bear trap clanking in his hands.

  The knight set the trap down next to Roberts and pointed out several parts of the device. He showed Roberts how the locking mechanism could be set up in multiple ways and doing it safely took priority. As the knight showed Roberts how the trap clicked when the lock engaged, he pointed out the specific sound that it made and how to tell when it was secure compared to the regular clank of metal touching metal. He trained Roberts how to use his listening skills to prevent having to test the trap and scare off anything that might be nearby because the traps made a loud snapping sound when they were set off without game. Even the test sticks in the traps would loudly snap in half. The knight taught Roberts one of the most valuable lessons in hunting, silence.

  “Thank you, Sir William.” Roberts genuinely said to the knight. Just after he spoke, the king and the hunting party returned to the group.