The Legend Of The Wizard's Apprentice (Book 1)

ISBN: 9781619278240

DEDICATION

I would like to thank my wife Franziska, our children Amanda and Danielle, my Parents Madonna and Jean, my sister Patrina, and all of my friends, for their unwavering support during the creation of this book
.

Note: A Special Thank you to Ramona A. Rees for giving up her valuable time to do the editing, and giving me great advice throughout the evolution of my book
.

I also want to thank everyone who reads my book, and for allowing me the opportunity to take you all on a journey into my world of Wizardry, and where Legends become realty
.

I hope that you all enjoy my book, as much as I have enjoyed writing it
.

Best regards,
Mike Ezekiel

PROLOGUE

The forest and its inhabitants are all quiet now, as the final aftershocks of the earthquake have settled into stillness. The few birds that did not flee at the outset of the first rumblings are flittering and calling out throughout the trees searching for the cause of the strange ground shaking. A spotted brown deer with his ears and nose twitching; scans the depths of forest for any sign` of movement, tense and ready for that moment of quick escape if needed. The moments pass from seconds to minutes and the deer relaxes, lowering his head to get a mouth full of the leaves that were shaken loose; and still fall from the branches of the maple trees. It then resumes its vigilant scanning of the forest as it chewed its newly acquired meal, bringing the forest to silence once again as the ground returns to stillness.

The earthworms, abundant in numbers, wriggle their way across the earth that just, moments before, had torn them from their sleep. Each of the little, reddish, stretchy body glistens with the morning dew as they search for a spot to return underground that they might escape the heat of the morning sun. The ground is full of various types of insects that normally live beneath the ground and who, like the worms, search for a way to return to the depths of the earth from whence they came.

Moment's pass and the creatures begin to return to their normal lives. However, in the rumbling wake, the forest now has a strange new feeling to it, and Mother Nature’s creatures can sense the vileness that has entered the forest. It smells of sulphur and of decay. The air now has an acidic sharpness to it that makes everything breathing it in sick and unclean. This new smell has extinguished all other smells associated with joy and laughter that was, before today, unmistakable here within the River Glen forest

Here beneath the forest's canopy, all tree sprites, pixies and fairies used to live and play. Now these fairy creatures have gone into hiding, fleeing this strange evil that has infected their domain leaving the fate of their beloved forest to the children of man. They hope that one of the mortal races will have the power to return all that is good to the land. But until that day, they have gone into hiding, fleeing this world until the day comes when they can return.

About three miles away, all is not as serene as it once was. In a large opening, nestled in the forest, the area used to be flat and filled with lush grasses and sweet clover for the forest creatures to graze upon. What stands there now is a pier of solid rock that rises up towards the sky. Its sides are all jagged and full of cracks down its smooth surface, and the rock itself is as dark as the coming night. The stonework was made from chunks of the oldest of granite slate imaginable, polished not to reflect or shine, but, rather, to absorb all life and even the light of day. The peir looked as though; it had been built by some twisted demonic being that wanted revenge upon the land. It had the effect of turning all hope and happiness into dread and despair. This is the center of the evil that has returned to the land. Here is where the Black Tower Stands.

Thunder is heard far off in the distance and with each crack of thunder the storm surges closer. Above the sky darkens and the shadows on the ground seem to lengthen as they get ready to fade away into nights embrace. The smells of sulphur and death take on a life of its own. The creatures run deeper into the forest because they can feel the presence of the oldest evil rising again. The insects rise once more to the surface in a tidal wave. It becomes a crescendo of death and despair, which rises up from the Black Tower and spreads out through the clearing and rushes to reach all corners of the forest. Everything that the swarming wave hits mutates into some form of disease and decay, distorting the original until it resembles the creatures from the pits of hell.

The trees and plants twist and wrap themselves into huge masses of brambles and thorns. They grow carnivorous plant mouths, hungry for the taste of fresh blood and the warm meaty flesh of any living creature that becomes careless and ventures too close. Thus the creatures that once lived on the inside of the Black Tower’s domain have once again come to be among the waking world of man. From inside the Black Tower, blood curdling screams; and deafening howls grow with the evil wave’s strength.

With every yard of ground the wave covers, the more intense and evil the laughter within the center of the Black Tower becomes. The Dark Master yet still unable to break free of his prison and death tomb himself, his minions have found the cracks he has made for them to slip free and rein havoc on the world of man for their Dark Master again.

From outside the clearing three dark forms disengage themselves from the shadows and begin a slow shambling trek toward the center of the Dark Tower. Having risen up from their icy graves, heeding the death wave’s call, they have come to pay tribute to their Dark Master. The three forms stop in front of the tower’s base and look up towards the tower’s peaks. All resemble that which is common of the walking dead, with old flesh and bits of exposed bones poking through their torn and rotting skin. Any semblance to what race they belonged to in a past life has long since decade away. What remains of them are the tattered scraps of clothing and armour long since forgotten. Upon each of their boney chests, there resides a red Necromancers Sigils of never ending death glowing brightly. Within each eye socket, an un-natural evil light shines out to guide their way and upon each hip a sword is still slung. The swords are encrusted and were gifts upon their birth into their evil after life. For each of these rune-scribed swords holds the power of a painful and the most horrible of death. One scratch from either one of these swords would cause the wound to fester and burn from within, black maggots slowly eating away the flesh of its victim until nothing but the bones remained. No matter what a healer may try, or what magic potion is used, there is no cure known to the waking world of man. Once death has come to the victim, its soul now belongs to the Dark Master and his dead body will rise as one of the walking dead to continue his new masters biding. No material that was not made of silver or magically enchanted can slow down or stop the passing of a Death-Knight’s sword. Once a Death-Knight has been created, all good things from his former life are forsaken, and he is bound to kill and destroy all living things until the end of days.

As each of the Death-Knights stands vigil awaiting their masters commands the sounds of evil grows in the forest and the Black Towers inhabitants run out of the clearing making their way to the forest’s edge. Here they wait for any un-lucky traveler who ventures too close and winds up becoming first a feast for the Black Tower, and then one of the undead ready to serve their great Dark Master until the ends of time.

It was rumoured once long, long ago, that there used to be five Death-Knights. It has been said in legends that an unlikely wizard, who had two different colours of eyes, one was totally black, and the other was liquid ice blue. The legends say that he tapped into the full force of the One Power and destroyed two of the death knights in a massive battle, trapped an all-powerful Dark Necromancer and his hoard of dammed twisted souls in a Black Tower made of crystal. This wizard was said to be a freak among his peers and an un-likely hero. It was said that not only did he have the power to banish the Dark Master and all the evil terror he commanded, but this wizard also had enough power within him as to match the gods themselves. It is said that the gods became jealous of his growing strength and cursed him to be reborn every thousand years to fight the Dark Master and his minions again, and again, until the ends of time, or until such time as he dies or breaks the curse and challenges the gods themselves.

Of course this is just an old bedtime story told to me by my late grandmother, whom had it passed down to her by her grandparents. It might just be an old story that’s been told throughout the histories. However, maybe it is a true Legend that has almost been forgotten in time, until the telling of it this day.

Hence, here begins the Legend of the Wizards Apprentice.

chapter one

THE APPRENTICE WIZARD

“Well my boy Kerwyn it looks like you’ve done it to yourself again.”

A tall and lanky human male with brown unkempt hair and loose fitting clothing of blue and green robes was huddled on the floor covered in a sticky mess of magical webbing that had gone terribly wrong. Master Sernett looked Kerwyn in those strange troubled eyes. One eye was as black as the darkest night and the other so radiant a blue that one would think it was glowing with its own inner light.

Master Sernett shook his head and wondered what he was going to do with the lad. He knew Kerwyn had the inner ability to do magic, but the boy had no focus. In fact, he could sense the greatest amount of the One Power in him that he has ever sensed in anyone. Sometime it was so powerful that Master Sernett wondered if the old legends were in fact true, and that the greatest wizard would one-day return to battle the Evil Master and finally rid the world of the Dark Tower and the evil creatures that lived inside.

Shaking his head and chuckling to himself thinking that if this lad lying before him covered in sticky, magical webbing was the all-mighty wizard reborn, then this world was done for and the evil would surly be victorious this time.

Raising his hand and uttering the words of command “Aufero veneficus”, Master Sernett cast his remove magic spell and the webbing melted and slid off Kerwyn like it was nothing more then water.

“I’m sorry master; I will never be a great wizard like you. All of my spells seem to back-fire at me or turn into something other then what I was casting.”

“Now Kerwyn what have I told you at least a hundred times?”

“I know master; to never doubt my own powers and to focus on what I want my spells to do. But why do I always mess them up? I have been working on this spell for the past week and I finally made it work but it ended up back on me again. How can I help protect the village from all the trolls and goblins if I can't even cast a spell properly? I’ll end up getting the whole village killed.”

“Kerwyn, no apprentice of mine is allowed to talk of such things. Practice, practice, practice, and you will eventually get it right. You need to focus on the target and do not get distracted while casting. I have told you that if a wizard gets distracted in the midst of a spell, you never know what the outcome of the spell will be. Once the One Power is drawn upon, it requires a strong mind to control it. Think of the One Power as a child without discipline. It will run wild and do as it wills. Remember the One Power is all around us and is created by all living things. The Planet and our Sun produces most of the One Power wizards use in casting our magic. It is the life energy of all things, and we wizards have been taught how to feel for its presence and have also been taught how to control it. A Necromancer will draw on the same One Power energies that are made by death, also called Dark Magic. There have only been a very few wizards that can draw on both the living and death energy of the One Power. You have seen first hand what happens when the One Power runs freely. The old apple tree out back is still a bit mad at you for bringing it back to life and not giving it legs to walk around.”