The Sorcerer's Ring (Book #1 of the Seven Sorcerers Saga)



  The Sorcerer's Ring

  Seven Sorcerers Saga #1

  By

  Julius St. Clair

  Copyright © 2015 by Julius St. Clair

  All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, objects and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are coincidental and should not be taken seriously.

  Now Available for Preorder:

  The Sorcerer's Dragon (Seven Sorcerers Saga, Book 2)

  Table of Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 – Remi

  Chapter 2 – Daydreams

  Chapter 3 – Paragon/Paradise

  Chapter 4 – Mind over Matter

  Chapter 5 – Goodbye to the Old Life

  Chapter 6 – Don’t Get Burned

  Chapter 7 – Marked

  Chapter 8 – Disturbance of the Peace

  Chapter 9 – Who’s the Predator and Who’s the Prey?

  Chapter 10 – A Thrashing

  Chapter 11 – Things Just Might Work Out

  Chapter 12 – Smokescreen

  Chapter 13 – To What Do I Owe The Pleasure?

  Chapter 14 – His Name Starts With a D

  Chapter 15 – Pregame

  Chapter 16 – The Party Gets Started

  Chapter 17 – An Unsettling Reunion

  Chapter 18 – Is She Worth It?

  Chapter 19 – Overwhelmed

  Chapter 20 – Impossible

  Chapter 21 – Bed

  Prologue:

  Twenty years ago

  The Great Collision occurred.

  Between Paradise (Heaven),

  Oblivion (Hell),

  And Terra (Earth).

  Once thought to be spiritual planes,

  It was discovered that Paradise and Oblivion were actually very physical worlds.

  Now they are connected

  And all the people

  Are sharing the same atmosphere, but not the same ideals.

  War is coming.

  And sensing the great conflict ahead,

  both Paradise and Oblivion seek warriors.

  Paragon has their private army: supernatural soldiers from Terra known as Sages

  But they are not enough.

  And the only ones who can truly turn the tides

  Are still in hiding.

  The Seven Sorcerers—ancient warriors that are revered as gods—wait in the shadows,

  Uncertain of which side to take.

  Few are prepared for the battles ahead.

  But one has already been fighting for her life.

  It begins with a young girl…

  Chapter 1 – Remi

  She never got complacent looking up at the stars.

  And it was not because of the mysteries they were known to possess. How they only revealed a miniscule amount of their true brilliance and potential from afar, or how the light that the planet enjoyed was years old and no one has truly seen their current state.

  No that wasn’t it. That wasn’t why she gazed at them.

  It was because of how ordinary and insignificant they now were since the worlds connected.

  Remi Fonteyn took another deep breath, and tried to ignore the burning in her lungs. She could fight the frost a little longer. But it wasn’t worth it.

  Paragon—or what used to be called Paradise—was now before her and on full display, as if it was her own private show. As she sat on the edge of the cliff and stared out beyond the grass and flower filled canyon, she could see the fears and hopes of her people manifested before her eyes.

  Every day when they woke up, the concepts tugged at their hearts.

  That Paradise and Oblivion/Paragon and Cimmerian—were not as eternal as they previously believed.

  “REMI!” a sharp yet sweet voice called out to her from behind. Remi wrapped the wool blanket tighter around her and adjusted her seat in the hardened and ice kissed grass, just enough to turn her head. Olivia was marching up the cliff with clenched fists, huffing and puffing out tufts of chilled breath. She must have come in a hurry for she wasn’t wearing her poncho.

  “Oh, hey!” Remi laughed, waving her friend over. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”

  “When I would arrive?” Olivia scoffed. “Sitting there and acting like you invited me out here…what are you doing? You’re going to get sick again.”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad,” Remi huffed, turning back around to face the dancing lights. They were only wisps of Paradise, but they were enough to make her sneak out of her house whenever she had the strength. Waves of baby blue, neon green and violent red swept across the night sky as if the colors were made of water and someone was moping them up. Pinks and yellows swung back and forth as if they were listening to music only known to them, and the violets and oranges remained still and steady, as if waiting for a partner to invite them to the dance floor. The lights only appeared on a clear and cloudless night so she wasn’t going to miss the show now. Not for anything.

  “You’re going to get sick again,” Olivia repeated, plopping down next to Remi. “You do that, and there’s no way you’re going on the next raid.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to go on the next raid,” she muttered.

  “Then what’s the point of all that training I see you doing? It’s not for your health.”

  “I’d rather not talk about my health while we’re out here.”

  “I just worry.”

  “If I’m okay, then you should be too,” Remi replied, still facing the light show. “It’s my life after all.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without you though.” Remi faced her friend and saw the grief in her eyes. She didn’t look like the Olivia she knew. That Olivia was more optimistic and kind. She was beautiful and had the voice and physique of a pixie. She was tiny in stature but strong in spirit. The Olivia before her now was on the verge of tears, and her face was worn and sunken low, as if her skin was being pulled at by tiny hooks. It only took a few seconds for Remi to realize the truth—her friend had already begun the mourning process.

  “Stop it,” Remi whispered, cupping her friend’s left cheek. “I don’t want you worrying about me.”

  “You’re all I have, Remi,” Olivia said in her thick drawl. “And when I see you out here like this, it doesn’t help my nerves.”

  “You sound like an old lady.”

  “You look like an old lady,” Olivia retorted. Remi chuckled under her breath as she stared down at the scratchy wool blanket around her.

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “I sure do.”

  “You know…if you didn’t come out here so often, we could go on raids together.”

  “I’m aware,” Remi chuckled. “But it’s not my thing. Seriously. I like to think of myself as more of an explorer than a fighter.”

  “You’re not going to be doing either without me.” Olivia stretched her hands out in front of Remi and closed her eyes. Remi watched curiously as her friend’s hands began to pulse a deep, dark red, so dark that it made her fingers appear frostbitten. After a few pulses, a crack was heard and then a miniature fire appeared in front of her, the sole flame rising every time Olivia moved her fingers in a wave-like motion as if she was playing a piano. The warmth made Remi feel better immediately, and she even thought about removing the blanket
so that she could really get close to the fire, but she knew that Olivia would scold her. She kept it on.

  “That never gets old,” Remi sighed, allowing the tips of her fingers to get close to the flames. She could feel her skin regaining its vitality.

  “So,” Olivia began. “When do you want to leave this place?”

  “Why do you say that?” Remi laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Painfully.”

  “Well, when I think that we can make it on our own…we’ll head out.”

  “It might be too late then. There hasn’t been a conflict in twenty years. Not a single one. No one wants to risk getting killed.”

  “Our town raids others.”

  “It’s different. They only steal supplies, and usually little things. Nothing serious. The towns nearby raid us too and there’s rarely any violence. I think it’s all a farce if you ask me. Raiding each other back and forth to make it look like we’re tough.”

  “We’re no different than everyone else,” Remi replied. “Just stuck in limbo, waiting for the chance to make it out, one way or the other.”

  “If you had the strength now…would you go to Paragon…or even Cimmerian?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Remi grinned. She clenched a fist and raised it over her head, examining her frail and gaunt arms. “I’m going to die anyways…might as well see some fantastic things before I do, you know? All I need is a little more time. A year, tops. And I’m gone.”

  “What do you think those worlds are like?” Olivia whispered, rubbing her hands together. She was staring hard at the light show in the sky now, but it was apparent by the distant gaze in her eyes that she wasn’t paying much attention.

  “Much like ours, I suppose. Just fancier. There’s probably castles and royalty and powerful warriors out there, just waiting for their chance to strike. The war for dominance of the three worlds will start, many people will die, and then things will go back to how it is now. Lots of peace and quiet until people start increasing in numbers again.”

  “I wonder what it feels like to not exist,” Olivia replied.

  “Probably what it feels like when you sleep and don’t dream.”

  “You think the Sages of Legend are really out there? Paragon’s warriors?”

  Remi turned to her friend and scowled. “What does that matter?”

  “I was just thinking that if they’re around, they’re going to be the ones that determine how the war is going to go.”

  “Maybe…but we don’t know what kind of warriors are in Cimmerian or Paragon. There could be warriors from centuries ago that are far more powerful, and that’s why everything is at a stalemate. No one knows who has what on the enemy’s side. And since we cease to exist when we die now, it’s a lot harder to take risks.”

  “Still, the Sages will be valuable.”

  “The Sages are just stories,” Remi scoffed. “And even if they’re not, their power isn’t so great. Using their souls as swords…it’s not practical.”

  “I think it sounds pretty cool.”

  “You would. All you can do is make your body warm.”

  “At least I don’t need a blanket to do it for me,” Olivia retorted, snatching Remi’s blanket off of her and throwing it to the side. Remi yelped at the sudden chill that imprisoned her body. Barely able to move, she slowly stretched out her frail arms until she was able to retrieve the source of her warmth. Once the blanket was back upon her shoulders, she noticed that Olivia had walked away. She didn’t bother standing to her feet. She was already exhausted from the sudden cold. Breathing heavily, her eyes began to sink as she glanced back at the colorful light show in the distance, now beginning to fade as the sun slowly rose in their place.

  Dawn had come, and with it, she would once again be painfully visible.

  Her hair was beginning to fall from her scalp and it was already malnourished—thin and brittle to the touch. Her parents had told her that it had once been a full head of magnificent strawberry blonde hair. Now it was merely a shade of its former glory. Her body was as thin as bones and her face was as disturbing as a skeleton’s bare smile. Some would say she was beautiful, if only she could gain a little weight and maintain it.

  On most days she slept twice as much as anyone else, and it was only at night, when she was invisible again, and her physical features were not easily seen, that she felt the most alive. When her thoughts were solely her own and not echoes of her peers.

  It was then that she “day-dreamed.”

  Of a life greater than the one she had been dealt. She heard the worries of her parents all too clear—that she would never travel, never be useful, and never be a warrior. But she just didn’t believe it. She felt it deep down in her brittle bones…she was destined for greatness.

  Now…

  If only she could do more than fight with a measly little eidolon—her soul in sword form.

  Then she would be getting somewhere.

  Her friend didn’t know it. But she was able to fashion a blade just like the Sages of Legend. A blade created from her very soul. It had not been an easy process, and it was actually a mistake the first time it happened.

  She had been running away from him again, through the woods with nothing but her blanket to shield her from the unforgiving bite of winter. She had run with abandonment, and somehow she was expanding the distance between her and the pursuer. To the point that she could no longer hear his footsteps. She stopped to catch her breath, and that was when she heard something.

  It had only been a clump of snow falling from the branches above, but the break in the silence nearly made her jump out of her skin. She placed a hand over her chest to calm her beating heart, as loud as a drum snare, and then she felt the hilt.

  It was just sticking out of her chest. Looking like it was made of brown leather and intertwined with strips of red cloth, she stared down at it as if it had been there the entire time. She wrapped a fragile hand around the hilt and gripped it tight.

  She wasn’t sure if the eidolon would be strong enough, but she wasn’t about to pass up on any opportunity to get stronger either.

  She pulled at the hilt and the blade came out like it was sheathed in paper. She held it above her head and examined it. It was a dark purple Falchion, almost resembling a machete in design. It hummed when she turned it over to the side, and a smile escaped her lips. But then the grin faded as quickly as it appeared.

  She had listened to the stories of the Sages well, and therefore she knew that this sudden and unexpected gift of having an eidolon shouldn’t warrant too much joy. According to her people, one became a Sage when they were able to take their soul and will it into the shape of a blade. A blade that could be used as a literal weapon.

  But she didn’t feel much different, and actually, she was beginning to shake uncontrollably from the cold. The eidolon did nothing but hang from her fingers like an ornament. It gave off no heat she could use, nor did it make her feel any safer should her pursuer arrive.

  It was useless.

  Remi sucked her teeth and mentally willed for the eidolon to disappear. It vanished in an instant and she hugged herself as her teeth chattered. The rest of the knowledge she had on eidolons came flooding through her mind—like how if someone stronger than her happened to break it, she might be killed. After all, it was an extension of one’s soul.

  And she was already dying. So why add one more way to get killed to the list?

  She didn’t feel any different, and therefore she knew immediately that she was no Sage. And if that was the criteria for becoming a Sage, then that meant the Sages of Legend were just as weak as she. And that just saddened her even more.

  For she had spent many hours thinking about the Sages, and how she wished one would come and whisk her away from her horrible life, making her into one of them. She envisioned them having the ability to heal her ailments and defend her honor and all the fancy notions that girls like her dreamed of when they were young and naïve. She had gro
wn up a lot since those days, and reality was a relentless teacher that didn’t discriminate. Finding an eidolon in her hand didn’t change anything in her life.

  It just added to the sorrow.

  Sages of Legend…who cared about them?

  She heard shouting when she got close to her hometown, but she had no reason to worry. They lived on the edge of Cimmerian after all. Not that there were people suffering at all hours of the day, just that there was always conflict. Whether it was over something stolen or the fact that a person didn’t like another’s face, her people were the type to pick a fight solely because they needed something to do. It was funny really. They associated themselves with Cimmerians, but they never had the guts to go into their homeland unless it was a raid—to procure some food and supplies so they wouldn’t starve to death.

  She was sure that her health also had to do with the horrible rationing her people did. They would gorge and fill their bellies until they were at their limits and then they would complain the next day when no more food was found. It was an endless cycle. Raid. Eat. Raid.

  This was the lives of all she knew. Anything to the contrary was considered foolishness.

  But since she was unable to participate in the raids, and there were times in which she couldn’t keep the food down, what was her purpose exactly? It seemed like a question her parents asked themselves whenever they thought about their daughter. Why was she there? She couldn’t work or clean that well—nothing they couldn’t do themselves in a third of the time. They couldn’t trade her for anything valuable. She was only friends with that Olivia girl and Olivia was just as useless in her own way. How could such an able-bodied person be so ineffective in raids?

  They never said it, but Remi was sure her parents loathed the day she was born.

  Remi looked up wearily as she saw Olivia running back to her. She looked further ahead and noticed that the town wasn’t on fire. That was a good sign. Nothing too serious could be happening.

  “What is it?” Remi asked as her friend stopped in front of her.

  “Your parents are back with the rest of the raid.”

  “Already?” Remi said in surprise. A raid usually lasted days. A day to plan, a day to infiltrate, and a day to make sure there wasn’t anyone chasing them. Though Cimmerians rarely left their world, there was a commonly held belief that if they ever discovered where the thieves lived, they would have the entire town executed.

  “I know! I don’t think they were successful.”

  Remi couldn’t wrap her head around the thought. “But why?”

  “They might have come against some trouble. Everyone is calling for a town meeting.”

  Remi scoffed. “When was the last time one of those were called?”

  “Not since I’ve been born,” Olivia admitted. “I don’t know what this means.”

  “But you have to admit,” Remi grinned. “It’s a little exciting.”

  “Ha. You would think so,” Olivia laughed. “Maybe we’ll all hold hands and sing songs of great warriors and fantastic adventures.”

  Remi continued walking back to town and Olivia stepped in line next to her. “All I’m saying is that we could probably accomplish a lot more if we weren’t trying to kill each other all the time. This was bound to happen—an unsuccessful raid. How long did they think it was going to last before the Cimmerians got sick of having their stuff taken? Do you know if anyone was killed?” she said suddenly, dropping her voice to a whisper.

  “No, no,” Olivia said suddenly. “That would be terrible.”

  “I guess depending on whom,” Remi muttered under her breath. Olivia pushed slightly to the side.

  “That’s not funny!” Olivia half-chuckled and half-shouted. “No matter how despicable someone is, we need everyone to make the raids go well.”

  “See what I mean?” Remi said, tapping her forehead. “We need each other.” Olivia’s face fell as and she pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed.

  “I hate it when you flip stuff on me like that. Okay, okay, I agree with you. Kind of. We could be a little more productive if everyone would just shut up for once. I mean, the roof in my house has been leaking for months. I’m sure the town could use some fixing up. But what you’re talking about is never going to happen. We’re not going to all of a sudden go somewhere and start anew. We’re not going to join Paragon’s army or whatever it is you want us to do. We have a way of life here that works. No one’s going to deviate from that.”

  “Then no one can complain when the raids stop working.”

  “You know, you talk a big game, but it’s not like you’re going somewhere. And you know why? Because you’re scared. You know you can’t do by yourself what we do as a collective. They may be gross and fight each other and neglect their homes and families, but they are still our people, and you still get fed. You have no right to complain either, or you should just leave already.”

  “Yeah,” Remi whispered, nodding her head. “You’re right.”

  “What?” Olivia asked in shock. “What did you just say?”

  “REMI!” someone shouted from the center of town. Olivia whined as she knew she wouldn’t get confirmation now. They came upon the wooden gate and Remi stopped walking for a second to gather her thoughts. Once she hit the center of their quaint little town, where all the grown-ups were congregating, she knew that she would have to deal with a lot of stupid questions and lines of reasoning she couldn’t even imagine. It was taxing.

  Her eyes averted from the group of adults about a quarter mile in the distance and to the sides, where their homes laid. It wasn’t much to behold. Long lines of log cabins and makeshift huts extended out into the distance as far as she could see. There were no fields or crops or town squares or buildings of recreation. There were just places of sleep, and dirt roads to stand in while the townsfolk discussed their next adventure.

  Eat. Raid. Eat.

  Raid. Eat. Raid.

  The town didn’t even have a name. That was how lazy they were. Not that they traded or dealt with anyone else. If it wasn’t for stealing from Cimmerian, she would think they were alone in the world. The only other evidence were the stories passed around after the town was good and drunk. Sitting in a circle in the middle of the main dirt road, they would laugh and jeer as they told stories of the Sages and what the world was like before the worlds collided. In slurred speech and vomit stained shirts, they would describe what Kingdoms they once belonged to—back when there were actual Kingdoms.

  Then they would begin fighting over who was better, both with words and fists and terminology that she couldn’t understand.

  Quietus. Langoran. Allayan. Prattlian. Delilah. Yama.

  She determined that they were all different races or types of people, but she didn’t know the significance behind them. To her, her people all looked and acted the same so she wasn’t sure why the labels mattered. And if anything, it gave her less hope in the outside world. If they were all from different races, and they were exactly the same in how they acted, then who could she connect to out there?

  “REMI!” the voice cried out again and Remi realized it had been her mother calling her. If she had realized that from the beginning she wouldn’t have stopped to take in the sights. She reluctantly shuffled forward as the rest of the adults waited patiently for her to arrive. None of them were arguing so now she was really worried. Her mother—a ragged and frail woman with too many dirty coats hanging off her shoulders—glared at her with contempt.

  “Did you see anything while we were gone?”

  “What do you mean?” Remi asked sheepishly. She noticed that Olivia had slinked off into the shadows.

  “Did you see anyone while we were gone?”

  “No. No one.”

  “Are you sure? You were in the town the whole time?”

  Remi knew the raid group saw her walking from outside the town’s border, so she knew there was no point in lying.

  “No, I went to look at the lights in the sky
.”

  “It’s cold outside. What are you doing out there alone? If you got sick, someone would have to stay back and watch you instead of heading back out.”

  “The raid didn’t go well?” Remi asked, trying to get the attention off of her.

  “No, it didn’t,” her mother sneered, turning to spit on the ground. “And if we want to eat within the next day or two, we have to go back out…tonight.”

  “But you just got back. Aren’t you tired?”

  “Are you going to help?!” Remi winced and bowed her head.

  “No,” she muttered, and her mother crossed her arms.

  “Exactly,” she said. “So here’s what I want you to do. I need you to stay here in the town and not wander off anymore. If you see anything, you’re going to have to confront them and convince them that they’ve found the wrong place.”

  “We’ve never done that before.”

  “We’re going to be exhausted,” her father replied, appearing from behind her mother. He was as thin as she, just taller. Balding and sporting a long grey beard, when she looked at him, she usually thought of Death. That probably wasn’t fair to him, but he certainly never spoke much about life. “We won’t have the strength to fight off anyone that comes looking for us,” he continued. “That means you’ll have to step it up for once. Be useful.”

  “But what if they attack me?”

  “I don’t know. Ask your friend to help you. It’s not our problem. From now on, if you want to eat our food, you have to earn it. I’m sick of you lying around the house all day.”

  “It’s not my fault.”

  “That’s not my problem.”

  “Fine,” she seethed. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” he said, looking at the townspeople around him. All of them—eighty in all—prepared themselves for the long night ahead.

  “Can I ask you something?” Remi spoke up and her mother glared at her like she had just been cussed out. “Why didn’t the raid work?”

  “We went in too deep,” she muttered before turning back to her husband. “We have to get going. I don’t want to be in Cimmerian while the sun is up.”

  Remi’s father stretched his hand up into the air and made a circling motion with it. The raid team began to march out the town’s back entrance, albeit slower than before. No one looked back to make sure that she was okay. But she was fine with it. As far as she was concerned, there were two ways of looking at it.

  She could wallow in self-pity, or she could become more independent as a result. She chose the latter, realizing that their negligence was only making her stronger. If they were nurturing and provided for all her needs from the beginning, she wouldn’t know how to forage for her own food whenever they were away. She wouldn’t know how to repair the holes in the house or how to fight off the wandering predator. Their care would have become her crutch, and she hadn’t had to use crutches yet.

  She barely noticed when they were gone. It was the lack of noise that alerted her, and like an old friend, silence blanketed the town, and she allowed her thoughts to wander. Besides Olivia and a few of the elderly, she was alone, and that was fine.

  She yawned and stretched her neck down the dirt road, evaluating how far she would have to walk to get home. She closed her eyes for a second, feeling exhaustion slide down her back. And when she opened them next, someone was standing in the middle of the road. At first she thought it was a straggler from the raid group, but when her vision focused, she realized that wasn’t true.

  The stranger was clad in a dark green robe with patterns of light blue daffodils strung across the chest and a hood over his face. He strode toward her slowly with his fists clenched. She remembered her parents’ words—that she should convince the stranger that he found the wrong place.

  But all she could think about was the eidolon hidden deep within.

  As if reading her thoughts, the stranger placed a hand to his right hip and a flash of light cracked across her eyes. She yelped out in agony as the light blinded her, and when her vision cleared, the stranger was already behind her with a sword pressed firmly against her throat.