The Elements of Love

By S.D. Grady

Two tales of love and fantasy.

War rages between the Lands of the Moon and Sun. The Healer of Water, Arlynn, touches the scarred Fire mage Myrric. The steam of their passion alters Arlynn’s powers forever, sending her on an odyssey to fulfill the ancient prophecy of peace for a world on the brink of destruction.

Village smith Grelig stops a slavegirl from stealing his lunch, but not his heart. Attempting to free Shayla from her cruel master, Grelig stumbles on a Trine of Evil and discovers that to spare one girl, he must first save his world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Purple Sword Publications
• Release date: Jul 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781936165964

Book preview

The Elements of Love

S.D. Grady

Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC at Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

THE ELEMENTS OF LOVE

Copyright © 2011 S.D. GRADY

ISBN 978-1-936165-96-4

Cover Art Designed By Dawné Dominique

Edited By Stephanie Taylor and Traci Markou

Book I: Fire and Water

Myrric stood upon the stone ledge, overlooking the vast Swan Plain engulfed in battle. The cries of men and beasts clashing and dying drifted to his protected perch. He closed his eyes, sending out a seeking tendril of thought. How many mages wield the fire against me?

He brushed a lock of black hair from his narrow face. The wind of war tugged at his loose, maroon linen shirt. The embroidered badge of flame held by a hand indicated his rank as a Fire Mage; one who could direct the heat of the earth to burn, blast or melt anything in his path.

Only three mages stood against him, and two of them nothing more than fire callers. He began to draw the Fire to him. Myrric muttered words of power, low and mysterious—the sound dancing amongst the storm of war. Sparks crackled about his head. Lightning shot across the plain. The fireball began to take shape between his hands, a seething mass of heat and destruction. His chest, wide and powerful with youth, heaved as he intoned the final forming words.

He aimed the fireball at the rear of the enemy’s line, where their archers continued to send raining death over the boys and men of The Army of the Moon. The power left his fingertips; it still drew more definition from the depths of Myrric’s being as it flew. Myrric grinned, reveling in the release.

He often compared the casting sensation to the thunder of passion pounding in his veins. His body hummed with anticipation. His rod thickened while the heat of a volcano grew about him. The battle plain below became unfocused as the fog of fire enveloped his very being.

The earth shuddered. The air shimmered. Myrric’s power faltered under a fresh onslaught from a new elemental quarter. His jaw firmed, and he drew a deep breath. The scent of charred wind blew across his face, the current shifting.

Myrric opened his eyes. A girl stood before him, no older than his youngest sister, her hurt, anger, and purpose clear in her crystalline green gaze. Her tunic, torn and stained, bore the Sign of the Sun above her left breast.

"You will be no more," she stated with a certainty that had Myrric scrambling to bring his shields into place.

But nothing could have stopped her. The waif tilted her head back. A great roaring echoed in the valley. Dirt, twigs and grass collected in a brown cone of wind. It danced among the soldiers, tearing swords and daggers from stunned hands. The tempest grew and swelled, fed by the child’s elemental power. She looked back at Myrric, her hatred and will a dark gleam in her eyes. She raised her hands, focused the giant funnel cloud into a minute spiral of black that throbbed with strength, eyed her nemesis one last time and threw the weapon at him.

Myrric’s knees collapsed when her tiny shrieking cyclone collected the force of his fireball and spun it back inside him. His life faltered. Myrric cast one last spell, hoping to negate the untutored powers of the girl before him.

The blast wiped the Plain of Swan clean.

* * * *

The man halted before the barred doors of the Hall. Tired and cold, he turned to the young woman perched atop the shaggy pony. Is this it, ma’am?

She nodded, her eyes glued to the portal sealed against such mortals as her escort. Come, she gestured. Help me down.

She looked about her, the mixed emotions of coming home warring with the fear of judgment that was surely due her.

The mountain peaks cloaked in winter’s white climbed in all directions. Calm embraced the air.

A slot in the heavy, timbered gate opened. The porter asked, What is your need?

I am Arlynn, Healer of Illis. I must speak to Mother Salias. She wrapped her voluminous cloak tightly around her shoulders.

Only a moment passed before Arlynn was granted entrance into the only haven she knew. She followed a novice to the cloister walk where she was bid to await the arrival of the leader of their order.

At the moment Arlynn spied the elderly healer, emotions carefully shielded during her long journey erupted into despair. Arlynn dropped to her knees and bent her head in supplication. I am lost, Mother, she murmured in a choked voice, tears streaming down her wind-blown cheeks.

Mother Salias placed her withered hand on Arlynn’s golden tresses. It can never be as bad as it appears, my little one.

Little one, Arlynn repeated then laughed gently as she stared at the azure robes of Mother Salias. I am most certainly not a little one anymore. She gestured to her swollen belly covered in a serviceable brown cloak, the child due within the month. She turned her head up to the head of her order. I have done a monstrous thing that I cannot hide from. But I know not where it is I can go. No village would have me as their healer now. I have most assuredly corrupted my powers in my attempt to find peace and follow the pull of my magic. She paused, her face falling into lines of grief. I am sorely afraid for the child of the union. Its power has been sullied even before the light of the sun can bless it.

A cloud gathered at Mother Salias’ wrinkled brow. Whatever do you mean, little one? Your powers of healing would protect a potential child from any possibility of corruption…

Arlynn shook her head vehemently. "Nay. My powers cannot protect the child