Read Lords Of Existence (Book 8) Online
Authors: Ron Collins
Lords Of Existence (Book 8)
Ultimate power.
Treachery.
A battlefield of pure magic.
The Saga of the God-Touched Mage includes:
Glamour of the God-Touched
Trail of the Torean
Target of the Orders
Gathering of the God-Touched
Pawn of the Planewalker
Changing of the Guard
Lord of the Freeborn
Lords of Existence
Other Work by Ron Collins:
Five Magics
Picasso’s Cat and Other Stories
See the PEBA on $25 a Day
Chasing the Setting Sun
Four Days in May
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Copyright Information
Lords of Existence
Saga of the God-Touched Mage, Volume 8
© 2015 Ron Collins
All rights reserved.
Cover Art by
Rachel J. Carpenter
© 2015 Ron Collins
All rights reserved.
Cover Images
© Nomadsoul1 | Dreamstime.com - Praying Medieval Monk In Dark Temple Corridor Photo
© Xneo | Dreamstime.com - Space Nebula Photo
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All incidents, dialog, and characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
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For Tim, Mike, Jackie, and Ken. And of course, for Lisa.
Table of Contents
Prologue
There are those who attack the scholars who write of the Thousand Worlds. They call them, at best, storytellers. At worst, liars and cheats. The critics say stories of Existence and the webs of magic rumored to be therein are good only for children. They say those stories are nothing beyond parables.
Of course, such suggestions serve merely to make the manuscripts and tomes these historians create that much more lucrative. And, regardless of what one thinks of the moral strengths or failings of these scholars, it is clear that these stories resonate among the people of Adruin. And the truth always matters in the end. So perhaps it is important to listen to these scholars. Perhaps it is important, for example, to consider whether the Thousand Worlds actually do lie in the haphazard sprawl across the many-space that the storytellers describe, connected to one another by that flow of energy that is both everywhere and nowhere at all times—the “glue” of All of Existence, as they call it. And if it
is
All of Existence that forms the universe as it is known, as they argue, then it is All of Existence that exchanges energy between each of the Thousand Worlds, and in doing so creates the very root of life itself. For without All of Existence, those scholars say, there would be no flow, and without flow there would be no magic, and without magic there would be no Thousand Worlds upon which to live.
If the storytellers are right, it is All of Existence that is responsible for the sulfur worms that inhabit Gallata, and it is All of Existence that allows for the ice floes of Kanna to be a breathing species. It is All of Existence that allows for the crystalline architecture of Fallaj, and it is All of Existence that gives life to the photon painters in the realm of Gaslight.
Amid the flow, they report, live creatures known by many names.
Talla. Flow Masters. Yahli-at-ba,
to some.
Gods, to others.
And, yes, planewalkers.
Yet, for all these names the scholars give, nothing is really known about these creatures, or even about All of Existence itself. This is because no other being, no man or woman from the planes—no sage or storyteller, no liar or cheat—has ever seen the world of the flow. Those who attack such scholars can do so without retribution because no other creature has ever seen Existence and returned to tell of it. No man or woman has ever been to the homelands of the creatures who these scholars argue have controlled the lives of every living creature across the Thousand Worlds since the time of Starshower itself.
No one, that is, until Garrick.
Existence
Braxidane knew the exact moment Hezarin died.
He’d been in his node, absorbing energy and considering whether to visit his future champion on the plane of Rastella. The youth there was the last of his champions, and was destined to become the most remarkable. She would grow in power as the rest grew in experience, and when she was ready Braxidane would make his play. He sipped at the power around him, and was letting the electric tingle of a pristine future unfold before him when he felt the pulsing aftertaste of his sister’s death.
A sense of pure disbelief came over him. Then one of absolute fear.
He flashed red with discontent. Then he gave a deep streak of purple resentment. His node became uncomfortably warm.
What had Hezarin done?
Why was she on Adruin to begin with?
It was only a matter of time now before All of Existence would learn of her death, and when that happened it would be only moments before Joint Authority would focus on her. They would discover her links, which would lead them to his links, which would then lead them to the rest of his champions. So, it was now only a matter of time before Joint Authority, and therefore All of Existence, would know what Garrick was capable of.
He let go of his connection to Adruin and dashed into the scouring flow.
He had little time to lose.
This was going to be bad.
Chapter 1
Garrick stood at the gates of the shattered wall that had once protected Dorfort’s government center, and looked at the planewalker’s devastation. It was the dark of nighttime, but raging fires exposed the wounded men and women who lay scattered across the open yard. They called to him with desperation. He felt each of them somewhere in the recesses of his mind.
The wall, once considered impenetrable by the public and by the leaders of this great city, was in rubble. Its masonry was broken and craggy. Its ironwork frames were rent and exposed, and its stone slabs were cracked open like eggs to reveal insides that gleamed with chalky brilliance against their weathered exteriors.
The smell of burning buildings mixed with the blood-laced residue of Koradictine magic. Voices rang out, men calling for water brigades, women giving orders as they pulled the injured from danger. It was cold, the time of year still on the edge of the winter months. The people fought against the elements as well as the flames. Hooves clattered and pounded as horses and mules raced through Dorfort’s rutted streets, taking wagons and men to places they could best serve the fight. The whole of the city was working to save what they could, and he was glad to see members of the Torean Freeborn working alongside them to quell the flames.
But Garrick could not focus on these things.
Hezarin was gone—at least her body was nowhere to be found. Garrick had bested her. He had consumed her here in the manor yard of Ellesadil’s government center. Her power remained behind, though. It remained inside him, struggling against him, twisting and causing Garrick pain. He choked on it as it rose against his control. He concentrated on her, pressing her power deeper inside him to where he could better staunch it.