The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3)
Read The Path Of Peace (The Cremelino Prophecy Book 3) Online
Authors: Mike Shelton
The Path Of Peace
The Cremelino Prophecy Book III
By Mike
Shelton
Copyright © 2016 by Michael Shelton
All rights reserved. No part of
this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission except in
the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. For
information, please contact the author.
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ISBN:
0-9971900-6-X
ISBN-13:
978-0-9971900-6-9
Library of
Congress Control Number: 2016911269
Gr
eenville,
North Carolina
Cover Illustration by Brooke
Gillette
http://brookegillette.weebly.com
Map by Robert Altbauer
Author Website
I would like to thank my wife
Melissa, and our children for always being supportive of me throughout this
process. My wife is the sounding board for all my ideas and keeps me in check.
As I finish off this trilogy I would also like to thank all of my readers so
far. I have received great feedback and appreciate all the reviews.
This book would not have been
accomplished without the work and help of Heather Moore and others at Precision
Editing Group, as well as my beta readers. I really appreciate all the feedback
and support they have given me in developing this story and helping to keep
things consistent.
Brooke Gillette has done such an
awesome job on all my book covers. Her ability to take my basic ideas and
expand it into a rich, colorful, detail oriented cover is truly amazing to me.
Robert Altbauer also did an incredible job on the map that is used for the
entire trilogy.
The Path of Decisions is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of my
imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I alone take
full responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. - Mike
The Cremelino Prophecy:
The Path of Destiny
The Path of Decisions
The Path of Peace
(One
year earlier in the Kingdom of Arc)
A
fter riding for three days, High Wizard
Olan Sallir rode into the Herro on his large black horse. The wizard, dressed
in his usual green robes—a color he had discovered brought out the fierceness
of his eyes while slimming down his large frame, was hungry and thirsty. The
color of his robes was a contrast to the predominate brown drab of most of the
Kingdom of Arc.
He strode into the small castle
estate to visit the King of Arc. He was glad he had chosen a city at the edge
of the mountains at this time of year. The temperature being much more mild
helped Olan enjoy the green grass and trees. These were made possible by the
storms from the Blue Sea that carried themselves over the countryside of the
Realm and spilled over the tops of the Superstition Mountains. Rainfall, while
not as plentiful as on the eastern side of the mountain, was much more abundant
than further west.
The King of Arc met once a month
with the leader of the Wizards’ Conclave, always in a different place and
always at the choosing of the High Wizard. Today they met in Herro, a
medium-sized walled city in the northeastern reaches of the Kingdom of Arc,
just west of the Superstition Mountains. It was one of the few places in the
Kingdom of Arc that was not desert.
Upon entering the chamber room of
the local governor’s mansion, High Wizard Sallir saw the King busily passing
missives to some attendants. The man was middle-aged and at least forty years
younger than the High Wizard himself, but his lighter-colored hair, customary
in the kingdom, made him look even younger.
Olan ran his hand over his thinning
head of hair, not quite as light or full as it once was. He chuckled to
himself, though it was loud enough for the King to hear.
“High Wizard
Sallir, good to see you again,” King Anwar greeted, standing up from his
working desk to shake hands. “I think I might make this my summer home. So much
cooler than the blasted desert around Arc.”
“But it’s the
desert that made us the strong kingdom we are,” the High Wizard responded.
“Or the desert
serves to keep others away. It isn’t worth their while.” The King laughed.
Olan liked
King Anwar. He was much more relaxed and humorous than the last two kings Olan
had advised. King Anwar didn’t take himself too seriously or put himself above
others. He was, however, a meticulous administrator. The kingdom’s coffers and
financial books had never been better. Trade was at an all-time high with the
neighboring kingdoms of the Realm and the Gildanian Empire, and the people in
Arc seemed happy under his reign.
The Kingdom of
Arc, the western neighbor of the Realm, had been organized approximately two
hundred years earlier by King Sinwian Arc, a man who unified dozens of warring
tribes into one loosely held confederation. Since then, large cities had sprung
up in the desert nation, in which local governors were given large amounts of
control. A national government still existed under the current King, Samuel
Anwar, but it was highly controlled by the Conclave of Wizards, headed by High
Wizard Sallir.
“And how is
your lovely wife?” Olan asked.
“As beautiful
as ever!” Samuel replied. “She is off touring the southern states with my two
oldest boys, letting them learn about the kingdom for themselves. They are at
the age of manhood now and should see their glorious kingdom. One of them may
succeed me some day.”
Olan Sallir
understood the last statement. Even though most of the time the son followed
his father to the throne, in Arc it was not a foregone conclusion, as it was in
the Realm and Gildan. Once a King of Arc died or was too sick to carry on his
assignments, his sons came forward, and the people voted one of them as King.
If they didn’t want any, they were free to choose another, and the vote would
stand. More often than not, a son had been chosen. In times when it wasn’t that
way, the vote was usually peaceful for another man of qualification. However, a
few times in their two-hundred-year past, small skirmishes would ensue as one
faction or tribe tried to promote their candidate over another. In Samuel
Anwar’s case, he followed his father, and it was most probable his oldest son
would follow him as the next King.
“Speaking of
kingdoms and successions, our neighbors in the Realm is one item to discuss
today, your Majesty.” Olan motioned for a servant. “But first I need to
replenish myself with some good food and drink.” He patted his growing stomach
and laughed with a loud boom.
“Get something
to eat and refresh yourself from your trip. When you are ready, meet me on the
western balcony. We will watch the sun set together as we talk.”
The High
Wizard turned toward the kitchen and stumbled, trying not to run over the young
girl that came running up next to him. After catching his breath, he turned to
see who it was. A broad smile filled his flushed face.
“Danijela! How
did you grow up so fast?” Olan reached for her hand and kissed it delicately.
“My, only six months ago a child stood here, and now a young woman blossoms in
her place.”
Danijela Anwar
smiled, obviously pleased with the praise. She twirled around, sending her dark
blue riding cape flying around her slightly plump body. Her hair cut just above
her shoulders, while not rare, was at least unique among the higher class in
Arc. The nobility lately preferred the longer tresses on their women. The
blonde color was very typical of the majority of the girls coming from the
northern part of Arc.
“I am fifteen
now, Wizard Sallir.”
“That is High
Wizard Sallir, Danijela,” her father said, coming up to join them.
“Oh, no need
for such formalities here,” Olan said.
“Father, why
can’t I travel with Momma and the boys?” Danijela pursed her lips in a pout,
her ample checks flushed.
“We’ve been
over this. The boys need to understand all of the land they may rule someday.”
“Why can’t I
rule?” she said in the tone of a proud teenager. “The Realm has had queens in
the past. I have heard of other lands to the south and west with queens also.
Why shouldn’t the people vote for me?”
The King
reddened. “Danijela! Don’t waste the High Wizard’s time with your thoughts of
fancy. That is not how it is done in our kingdom. It’s just the way it is. Why
don’t you escort our guest to the kitchens and help the cook get him something
to eat.”
“But—”
“No more!” the
King said with firm resolve, but then added “sweetheart” at the end. The King
did love his daughter, but she was independent in her thinking. The dangerous
part was she had more inclinations and talent to rule than her older brothers
did.
No more was
said until they came to the kitchen. The seat creaked as Olan lowered himself
onto a small wooden bench. The girl went to the cook to ask for meat and ale.
He watched her absentmindedly as she talked to the cook and waited to satisfy
his hunger. The young girl, though thinner than the last time he saw her, still
seemed to hold on to some of her baby fat. However, her exuberance for life,
feisty personality, and intelligent eyes were still the same they had always
been.
As he waited,
he thought about the problems going on in the Realm, their neighbor to the
east. King Edward had no heir and apparently was not interested in marrying
again or in having any more children. An unstable Realm could bleed over into
the Kingdom of Arc. The Emperor in Gildan was also very old, although as a
wizard he would live longer than others. However, his son, the general of their
armies, was not as patient and peaceful as the current Emperor. Rumors flowed
he had designs on expanding his kingdom.
All of a
sudden, he heard a small squeak from Danijela. She had dropped a cutting board
full of bread from her hands, the sharp knife dropping faster toward her leg.
Somehow, however, the knife nor the board nor the bread made it to the floor.
The High Wizard watched in fascination as Danijela brought the food and
utensils through the air and back to her hands as if nothing had happened. Both
of them looked back toward the cook, but she was involved in another
conversation with two of her apprentices.
The commotion
over with, Danijela walked confidently toward the wizard’s table. He looked at
her with interest and raised his eyebrows, not saying what was on his mind.
She flashed her
bright blue rounded eyes at him and in mock innocence said, “What? You think
you’re the only one that can do magic?”
The High
Wizard had never experienced anyone so informal over magic before. Half-choking
on the ale dribbling from his gray beard, he laughed and laughed until he
couldn’t find any more breath. Finally, Danijela joined in.
“Does your
father know?” Olan asked after getting himself settled again.
“I think he
might suspect,” the King’s daughter said with a sparkle in her eye, “but he has
never asked me directly. As much as he teases me, with my brothers gone most of
the time, I don’t think he wants to let me go.”
High Wizard
Sallir gave a deep sigh. “Bring the rest of the food over here, young one, and
join me. I have some questions for you.”
Danijela
frowned, probably at being called young, but compared to Olan, everyone around
him seemed young these days. His powers as a wizard had prolonged his life past
the normal lifespan, but he was getting older, and he did need to take on an
apprentice.
The girl
returned with the rest of the meal and sat down opposite the High Wizard. He
could see excitement almost crackling in the air around her.
“So, Danijela,
when you do magic, do you think about it first?”
“No, sir, it
just happens almost by instinct.”
“Do your
feelings control it? Does it happen when you are happy or angry?”
The girl
thought a moment. Olan took the opportunity to bite into a piece of chicken.
“Very good,”
he mumbled in praise.
“No, it
doesn’t work better or worse when I have strong emotions either.”
Olan smiled. “Tell me what it
feels like.”
“Oh, it is so wonderful.” Her
face lit up, and her eyes opened wide. “It just happens, like it’s a part of
me. Like the earth around me is coming to help me.”
Olan took some bread and smothered
butter on it. It was better than what he had eaten on his journey to see the
King. He didn’t say anything for a moment as he collected his thoughts. He
motioned for Danijela to eat something.
Finally, he put his food down and
put on his teaching tone. He remembered back to the days in the Wizards’
Conclave when he had been a teacher, so long ago. Three Kings ago, in fact.
“There are three disciplines of
magic that we know of, Danijela. Magic of the heart, magic of the mind, and
magic of the earth. Each draws their strength from different sources. In a
general sense, they all can do many of the same things, but each discipline
allows the user various abilities or skills that another from a different
discipline may not have as powerfully. There are tidbits in some of the ancient
writings that allude to a fourth power, but no one in modern history has
claimed any but those three.”
Danijela smiled at him and, with
excitement in her voice, leaped forward in the conversation. “So my power is
earth?”
“Yes, child, you are an earth
wizard.” Olan was surprised that she caught on so quickly. “Most likely a weak
one at this point with no formal training, but the power is in you.” He
continued teaching: “The magic of the mind belongs to a wizard who thinks
things through first. He may be slower at committing himself to a cause. He
thinks of what he wants to do, visualizes it, and then his mind extends and
makes it happen. The majority of wizards have this power. Emperor Alrishitar of
Gildan is one of these. I am one of these, though after so many years of study,
my powers between heart, mind, and earth have become more balanced.”
The High Wizard shoveled in a few
more bites of food, and Danijela filled the silence.
“What about a wizard of the
heart? Are there a lot of wizards?”
Olan put up his hand. “Hold on,
Danijela.” He chuckled. “All in good time. A wizard of the heart is much more
rare. We don’t know why, but there have been relatively few in the last five
hundred years from the records we have, at least in these lands west of the
Blue Sea. They are ruled by their emotions. They react to what they feel—either
anger, love, frustration, or excitement. They don’t seem to think about their
consequences all the time. Their power is an extension of what they are feeling
or experiencing at the moment. A wizard of the heart can be very dangerous and
unpredictable if he follows the wrong path; however, one that is ruled by love
and fairness and good feelings can make an extraordinary person and a great
leader. There hasn’t been one in a long time, at least a powerful one. Old King
Anikari of the Realm had been one of these. It was also rumored that King
Sinwian Arc was one, though by the study of his deeds, I would tend to think of
him as an earth wizard.”
“Like me?” Danijela asked. “Oh,
this is so exciting. I want to show you what I can do.” She jumped up and
pulled the High Wizard’s hand.
Olan shoved the last couple of
bites of bread and meat in his mouth. He could tell there was no stopping the
young girl. He pushed up on his large frame and followed behind her, still
trying to teach.
“Now, Danijela, an earth wizard
is not as rare as a wizard of the heart but is rarer than a wizard of the mind.
The magic of the earth is more solid, more real. An earth wizard draws power
from outside of him, unlike the power of the heart or mind, which comes from
within.”
“I know that.”
The High Wizard shook his head.
“How do you know that? You have never learned about wizards before.”