Mageborn: Ancestral Magic, #1

By Michael DeAngelo

In this fantasy magician series, Adelia Kreegan begins her new life as a pupil under the tutelage of a master wizard, Gaston Camlann. He will teach her all the spells and rituals that she will need to know to make her way in the dangerous world of Tellest, where dragons and dark magic abound. Though hers are spells for beginners, Gaston is confident that she will be able to become a truly competent sorceress. 

But when an intruder comes to the city of Forsynthia, peace is nowhere to be found. Adelia will have to venture outside of the safety of her master's keep to find the truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael DeAngelo
• Release date: Mar 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311327017

Michael DeAngelo

Michael DeAngelo is a spinner of fantasy tales for those that love the genre. With a vast fantasy series under his belt, he creates worlds. He conveys the stories that the denizens of the realm are unable to, turning heroes into legends and villains into horrors unlike anything you can imagine. He crafts epics about extraordinary folks who are thrust into a world of danger and intrigue, and designs plots that make you contemplate if such a world could truly exist, placed atop a setting of majesty and wonder. He is the author of the Tellest series of fantasy novels and novellas, where imagination goes to play, and the world is in your hands.

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Page  of 70

Chapter One: Introductions

The bluebird sang upon the stone windowsill, mere inches away from the jars of ancient substances. Looking at the nearby dried roots, it would quickly hop toward them and then abruptly back away. After each cycle, it would tweet its song as though it was trying to remain discreet.

A sweet-smelling spring breeze turned a page in the large nearby tome, and the small creature hunched low, considering a hasty flight. The man who sat at the desk began to whistle. His song seemed to soothe the bird—perhaps because it was identical to the earlier tune.

Gaston Camlann was known for such precise observations. He was a man of great renown, gifted in many arts, both ancient and modern. It was a wonder at all that he was able to excel at so many things. He was, after all, human. They didn’t live forever.

The wizard, who fancied himself more a scholar, was beginning to show his age. His once attractive features had been replaced with wrinkles and rosy cheeks. He wore a long, dark gray beard and moustache to hide most of his weathered face. Long, wavy locks had been stricken a little brighter by the sun, nearing the color of snow. He hid that indicator of his age underneath a wide, green hat.

As he whistled a second verse to his winged companion, a series of knocks upon the door played the percussion in their song. Gaston was so engrossed in his studies that he was ill-suited to notice, even when the rapping on the door grew louder and more frequent.

More aware than the sage, the bluebird hopped off its stone pedestal, diving into the northern wilderness. Gaston, shaken from his task by that sight, chortled to himself. How easily Homer has trained me, he thought, recalling how often the bird returned to him.

Another series of knocks on the door had his full attention then.

Yes, come in, he pleasantly permitted.

The sturdy slab of elm slid open, and a well-dressed man walked in, his polished boots tapping across the floor. To his left, a lazy feline rested peacefully, its tail floating to and fro as the visitor entered. After removing his leather glove, the man reached out, petting the cat on its side. Rolling over, the feline gleefully accepted the attention.

Gaston placed his quill down and turned to acknowledge his guest’s arrival. Ah, Edric, the sage said, standing quickly and slamming his legs into the desk. He winced but worked at ignoring the pain. It’s been some time.

Preoccupied with the animal, it almost seemed that Edric would not find the focus to reply. The black cat had wrapped its arms around the man’s wrist and was contentedly licking his knuckles. That it has, my friends, the visitor finally said, giving a quick, rough little scratch to the cat’s belly before retrieving his hand.

And what brings you to my dusty old closet on this beautiful day? It’s not often that a White Knight of Gardone visits a meager hamlet like Forsynthia.

Forsynthia is anything but meager, and I believe it evolved from a hamlet some time ago. Also, my time in a white cloak has long passed.

A smile crossed Gaston’s face. Just as always, you focus on the corrections while you ignore the questions.

Anything to gain a few extra moments to speak with an old friend, Edric said. One of Jonathan’s birds came through. Apparently, your pupil had just arrived at the toll road. I don’t think she’ll arrive too long after I did.

And depending on the driver, the poor girl will be arriving without a coin in her pocket. What a foolish idea those roads were.

Edric paused, considering how to react. A moment later, he was shaking his head while smiling. You know the countryside better than most, Gaston. Between the beasts and the brigands, all of Daltain is a dangerous place. But with paid patrols on watch... well, you know what Lord Kerrigan says. Good roads b—

Build a better country, yes, the old sage finished. "And there’s quite a bit of wisdom there too. Far more than this wizened old wizard cares to admit often, anyway. And I’m sure those pampered, spoon-fed princes from Sungarden were happy to keep the hands out of their pockets.

Ah, but I’m rambling again, Gaston said. Are you staying for some time? Can I offer you some tea?

A weak frown could just barely be seen upon the retired knight’s face. Alas, my friend, I haven’t come to Forsynthia just for reprieve. I’m moving a caravan of weapons up to the Basalt Flats. Lydick should be awaiting me in the armory, if he’s been properly advised of my arrival.

Gaston nodded. Always too short, these visits. No matter. It will give me some time to stretch these old legs in preparation to meet the young lady.

And I’m sure there are a great many surprises you have prepared for this one, Edric mused. I’m staying in Forsynthia for the night. If my task is kind to me, perhaps we can meet for the tea later this evening.

I should like that very much.

Following a polite bow, Edric turned and began out of the room. He stopped beside the black cat and gingerly scratched beneath its chin. Farewell, Merlin, the retired knight said. Keep your master from falling too deeply into those tomes of his.

Once Edric had gone from the room, Gaston turned to his pet, glee etched upon his face. Worry not, my old furry friend. You’ll have a new companion to play with. There will be time for books later.

Merlin let out a contented meow but remained on his side, even as his master stepped clear of the door and drew it mostly closed.

The young lady had stuck her head out of the carriage for most of the journey. As the massive gates of Forsynthia parted, she considered that she had never traveled farther south. Those thoughts quickly passed as the vehicle rolled into the town.

Although it had once been merely a fort for Daltainian soldiers, it had grown to serve as one of the jewels of the country. Despite its rapid rise, it still preserved much of its rural origins.

When she had passed through the town’s gates, the young lady realized the entryway was merely for show. There were no walls beyond that point, though a border of trees provided a sense of Forsynthia’s boundaries.

She swept a strand of blond hair out of her eyes. Her focus shifted to the large keep at the center of the town. Other buildings surrounded that one, varying in their distances. Still, the place didn’t seem stripped of country. Trees provided shade and natural gaps between homes and stores. Gardens seemed to wind and intersect in beautiful arrangements.

The young lady couldn’t help but be enamored by the sights.

Before she realized it, the carriage had stopped just several hundred feet from the keep.

We’ve arrived, miss, the driver called out.

Blowing out a sigh, the young lady opened the door and stepped from the carriage. A small breeze swept the bottom layers of her blue dress aside for a moment before she felt steady on her feet again. Approaching the driver, she held out her hand. Thank you for taking care of the toll for me. I had no idea you had to pay to use a road in this country.

He reached out, accepting her offer. When he saw the shining pieces of silver in his palm, he began shaking his head. "No, miss. I can’t