The Stones of Magic: The End of Old Ways, #1

By A. W. Chrystalis

The Quest for the Stones of Magic will take one young boy and will either turn him into the man he was meant to be or destroy him completely. The loss of everything that he has, everything that he has ever known, has forced Mach Derune into making a decision that he would never have dreamed he would need to make.

  Does he search for the last member of his family in the hopes that she is still alive? Or, does he follow a group that may lead him to the one responsible for the destruction of his home? Either choice he makes will take him down the road of revenge, but the path he takes will show him far more about himself than he ever thought possible.

  The strength and courage of his newly found friends gives Mach an insight to himself that was never there before. Their willingness to allow him to forge his own path leads him down a road of discovery that will show him just how strong he is and how true the lessons of his late father were. The Stones of Magic have resurfaced after three hundred years and two forces will collide in order to obtain them. The Power they wield was enough that the Great Mages of Old refused to use them in order to prevent the genocide of their own race. Will Mach find himself a pawn of the Power of the Stones, or will he and the others find a way to control it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. W. Chrystalis
• Release date: May 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310327780

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was early in the morning, and with the dawn, a thin mist from the sea had rolled in. Mach opened his light gray eyes and searched the skies outside his window for any possibility of a storm moving in. All looked clear and not a hint of bad weather was in sight. All for the good so far as he was concerned. The first of the three suns was rising out of the west and shone brightly into his room, its bright orange light gave off the usual morning glow on the roofs of the little town of Selane.

Normally, he would take his time getting out of bed. Doing whatever he could to postpone his daily chores. However, this morning was different. This morning was one of the few days he enjoyed each month. Merchants would be coming today and they would allow him to walk their ships, which was normally a taboo among sailors. No outsiders were allowed aboard, espionage and treachery were far too rampant in these days.

It seemed that all the sailors knew of Mach’s father before he had died more than ten years ago, and they all had the utmost respect for him and his family. Some of the sailors had even been heard saying that, if they had not liked his mother and father so much, they would have kidnapped him and taught him the ways of the high seas. The wide-open seas and the salty air were thick in Mach’s blood. He knew that as well as he knew the next day would come.

He had been tempted to leave with the sailors on more than one occasion, but he was only just turning seventeen. That was the age in which a boy became a man and it was the age in which apprenticeship was offered. What he wanted to do was to travel the world like his father, learning all that he could of the different races, and seeing all the spectacular sights.

Hell, just the simple adventures themselves would be amazing.

Though he had thought of leaving many times in the past, he doubted he would ever actually do it. Selane had been his family’s home for more generations than people could remember. This very home had been around since as long as anyone alive could recall hearing about. People spoke of his family’s home as one of the first here, some three hundred years ago. They whispered of the place as though it had sprung up by magic, which was surprising in itself. Magic had been outlawed long ago and was thought to be taboo to speak of in most cases.

A long time ago, Mages had been commonplace. Villages full of them could be found almost anywhere among the lands of the Five Empires. However, after the Great War, they were hunted down and executed. Any Mage not in the custody of a great lord or king was subject to execution without any kind of warning. Any Mage that knew the combative magics were slain on the spot, regardless of their ownership. The Damnation had wrought havoc on the Mages and only a few still lived today. Most that did were nowhere near normal people.

Yawning, he slipped out of bed and hurried to his wardrobe to get dressed. The wardrobe used to belong to his father when he had been Mach's own age, and his father before him. Some of his father’s old clothes fit him well enough. He was almost as tall and broad in the shoulder as his father had been. Standing around five and a half feet, Mach was average in height to most people his age, not too broad in the shoulders, but not scrawny either. At least that was what some of the villagers here in Selane would say about him. Just like his father. All of them said it would be a shame if he did not learn the arts of the master swordsman.

His father had been a full sailor before he had died out at sea and he had known how to handle a blade better than most. Mach never found out exactly how his father had died, only that he had. The memories he could remember vividly of that day were of his mother crying at the news when the men his father had been sailing with came to town with his body wrapped in the white death wrap used for burial. Mach had only been six years old, but he remembered enough to know his father was never coming back.

His father would often take him out at times on short trips around the bay before he would leave on a journey. His father had wanted to take him out on longer trips out to sea when he returned from his last journey. Things had not worked out the way any of them had hoped.

However, today was going to be a great day. The merchants would be here just after the rise of the second sun and he would be on the waters for least a while once again. This time maybe he could convince one of them to head out and circle the bay before they left. That way he could be on a moving ship.

They should go for the idea after all it was his birthday. With Mach's love of the sea, he knew what he wanted to do. It was just saying goodbye to his mother and his home that was going to be the hard part.

He left his room and went down the stairs, passing by a mirror in the process. He took a long look in it. Everyone always told him he looked like his father in many ways. The nose for instance, which was slightly pointed but short, his eyes were just like his father’s as well which were a silver gray, like misty clouds over the sea. However, the hair was different. His hair was far more like his mothers, bright gold like the second sun at sunrise.

He always wore a smile that dazzled the girls in town, as his mother’s would dazzle the men. He winked to himself and continued down stairs where he found a plate of cheese and bread with fresh fruit and a pitcher of fruit cider waiting for him on the kitchen table.

Bless you mom. He muttered aloud as he picked from the plates. Always taking care of me. Normally they ate together in the mornings but she was nowhere in sight this morning so he started in on his meal without her. She must be out in the garden already.

He ate quickly, and carrying the last pieces of his breakfast with him, he left for their garden at the back of the house.

The garden was normally Mach’s job, had been for a few years now. However, on the rare days like this when the merchants would come, she would always go out of her way to take over his chores so he could enjoy the day. Even in the past, before his father had died, she would do this so he could meet the ships when they would dock in case his father would return home.

That, above all else, was the one thing that would make it the most difficult for him to leave. His mother’s heart was so large but still so fragile and he was unsure of how she would be able to handle him leaving home. Not to mention leaving that kind of love and warmth would be almost unbearable.

Well, almost.

Mach walked briskly, heading to the back garden where he knew he would find his mother, picking through the garden for vegetables and fruits that had turned ripe enough for the picking.

Off already, Hun? her voice came from ahead before he had even rounded the corner of the little house.

He stopped at the corner and looked for her. She was kneeling amongst the tall corn plants, picking weeds. If it were not for her movements, he would not have seen her. Not that she was hard to spot her beauty was simply amazing. But the golden yellow of the corn and the thick stalks hid her golden hair and the rest of her body so well she might as well have been invisible.

She, like Mach himself, had the golden hair that was so unusual in this nation. Unlike him and his father, she had brown eyes and a slightly suntanned complexion. She was tall as well, at least a head taller than he was. She had a kind and beautiful face that made many of the village men long to have for their own. Just like Mach, she was usually seen smiling. Her soft eyes made you feel as if she could see deep into your very soul and hug it. A slender beauty that was somewhat exotic, as though she were from a different land.

Yes mother and thank you for breakfast. He said as he rushed over and kissed her on the cheek. I gotta run, I will see you later.

Alright, be safe now.

He turned and left her to her work and walked quickly down the main road to the docks on the southern shore. The thin mist that had come in the night was vanishing quickly under the bright sunlight. He rushed passed the villagers who were on their way to work or to begin a day of shopping. Many of them waved hello to him. He simply ignored most, others he just waved to if he could not ignore them. The first sun had completely risen over the western hill across the cove, and the first signs of second sunrise were approaching.

Any moment now and they will be here!

Mach! a deep, bellow-like voice hollered from behind him. Get over here, lad!

Stopping in his tracks, he looked around and saw who it was. He turned to the man he knew for almost as long as his own father. I’m in a hurry George, can this be quick?

George was a tall man. He had a slight gut, but Mach had the impression that was a false look. No blacksmith he had ever heard of was fat, the work was just too intense for even the healthiest of eaters to gain much fat. The blacksmith had a scruffy look to him, his black beard was graying slightly as was his black, untidy hair. His brown eyes crinkled in a smile as Mach got closer.

George had been like a surrogate father to him since his father had died, perhaps even before. It had been George who had taken up the mantel of watching over him and his mother. Making sure they were both fed well. That every day they were getting by as well as one could with such a loss.

But he had never been overbearing. He had never once tried to take advantage of either of their emotions, or ever tried to seduce Mach's mother and for that he respected and loved the man as much as he loved his own father.

I got something for you in the shop, wait here a sec. George stepped into his shop for a moment and came out holding a leather bundle. I know how you want to ride the high seas, lad. He said handing it to Mach, Norm, the armor master, and I wanted to give you this. Happy birthday, lad.

He took the bundle and opened it with excitement to find a lightweight scimitar, a newly sown sheath, and a book entitled 'Mastering the Sword'. For the briefest of moments, he was saddened by the fact he had never learned how to read very well but that was quickly overcome. With a little patience, he would relearn everything he had forgotten in no time.

What do you think? Figured something like this would help you out no matter what you do. More so if you were to get your apprenticeship soon.

It is perfect, George. Thank you! Mach said already tying the sheath to his side and fitting the blade within it.

Happy seventeenth, but don’t forget the wrapping now.

Mach looked again at what he thought to be an ordinary leather wrap. As he unfolded it, the wrap turned out to be one of the high grade, thin leather cuirass that was from Norm’s shop. By the looks of it, it was just his size. It was thin and light, the kind of armor a sailor or scout would wear. Light enough for easy mobility and the least exhausting to wear of all the armor he had ever seen.

It was perfect for someone his size and stature. He slipped it on over his shirt and it fit perfectly. Snug but not too tight, exactly how the armor master had always told him it should be.

This is amazing George, thank you.

Now don’t forget to thank Norm when you see him, tell him what you think of it. Got it? Believe it or not, that vest is made from two layers of leather with a thin chain mail in between. Don’t look that thick, does it? Together it should block most arrows shot at you. Won’t do much for a heavy blade, but it is light enough to be worn over or under the smaller plate mail without overburdening you. Now get down to the docks already, looks like they are just turning into the bay.

He turned quickly to look down the road and saw a fleet of ships sailing into the cove. No sooner did he see them that two things happened within a single beat of his heart. One, Mach got a dreadful feeling and a chill of fear shot through him like somebody pouring frozen water down his back. It felt like the ground had fallen out from beneath him and the entire world had gone missing. The second, was the church across from the weapons shop exploded, along with what sounded like several other buildings not far away. He could not take his eyes off of the ships. Several black puffs of smoke were rising from the ships as booming echoes came over the bay.

My gods, He could hear George say over the sound of booms coming from the distance. Those are mortar shells!

Mach turned and could see George’s face turn from surprise to fear to rage in the span of a heart beat. A moment later, the blacksmith had ran into his shop and came out with an axe across his back and a long sword in hand.

What in the hell you think you are doing, boy, George yelled at him, anger and fear etched onto his face. Get your mother and you take her and your scrawny behind out of here, head up the hill to Madtu. Mach turned away but could still hear George growling over the din of explosions. ...good gods who the hell do they think they are!

Realizing slowly that he needed to get moving, he ran back to his home, yelling at people to get away as he went. Panic reigned all around as people ran this way and that. No one knowing what was happening.

When he reached his front door, the mortar shells were hitting farther into town. He could see smoke curling up in the air, thick and black blocking the sun rising in the distance. Several buildings were on fire now and over the explosions, he could hear the crackle of the fires destroying what the shells left standing. It gave him a feeling of utter terror. A knot formed in his stomach that tightened even more as buildings around him exploded into flames.

He had begun to turn the door handle when an explosion behind him made him duck. He glimpsed his mother coming out from behind the back, a look of terror frozen in her eyes. She froze completely as she saw the devastation being wrought on the village. Already the smoke had thickened and now it hung low to the ground. He ran to her, his head low and his hands over his head and gripping her tightly by the hand he led her toward the village exit.

Most of the village was in full retreat by the time he and his mother made it to the town gate. His mother, having snapped out of her daze, was now running full pelt beside him.

Look, Mach yelled to his mother beside him we have to get far away from here, we need to get to Madtu fast. Mother, stay close to me alright. He gripped the handle to his new blade and rushed out into the fields outside the village walls.

As they ran, he looked back at his home to see the fires of destruction burning his whole life away. Tears formed in his eyes as he watched more shells exploding throughout the village. People were running this way and that. He could clearly see the bay in which his home sat next to. People were daring the waters to reach safety. Come on, mother. We need to get moving.

Mach only had time to see his mother nod and that was the last thing he saw before all was turned upside down. Out of nowhere, the ground between himself and his mother was hit by something that threw him like a rag doll. He landed heavily several feet away, the wind knocked out of him. Unable to breath, unable to hear a single sound, Mach looked up into the bright blue sky that quickly turned opaque, than pure white followed by darkness. 

Chapter 2

The third sun was brushing the eastern hills, setting the sky above him alight with a fiery glow. Mach woke laying in a deep bush. He looked up at the darkening sky. Not long now, he thought dazedly not long until it is dark.

Confused and a little dizzy, he started to sit up but his strength failed him and he fell backwards. He could not think of why he was out here at the base of the mountain that led to the city of Madtu, just outside the safety of the walls of Selane. Laying hidden in bushes, all he could remember at first was the merchants were supposed to have been there that morning and that he was going to make his decision on when he was going to leave his mother...stopping in mid-thought he remembered and it came back to him in a flash of memories.

His head pounded violently as pain shot through his body. Mother where are you? He thought in panic. He dared not call to her aloud. If the people that attacked his home were still around, they would surely find him. He thought he saw someone moving as he sat up and scanned the land above and below him.

He gently patted himself down looking for cuts or broken bones when he felt the vest that George had given him over his shirt. Gods, I hope George is OK, Mach thought as he untied and re-tied his sword to his waist. He had been in the woods a lot in recent years, taking items and goods to the mountain village of Madtu and back again. Therefore, he knew the trek could be dangerous, especially at night. However, he also knew how to get up there without the local animals noticing him. He kept low to the ground as he half-crawled half ran from his bush while keeping an eye out for anyone, but most especially for any signs of golden hair lost in the brush.

Mother where are you, he thought savagely. He remembered with hope that he had told her where George had said to flee. It was possible she woke before him and not seeing him hidden in the bushes, continued on thinking that he had moved up hill. At least he hoped that was the case. He prayed that she had started up the mountain already. Hopefully he would catch up to her before she got too far.

He could hear men somewhere off toward the village. It sounded like they were searching for something, or someone. So with what remained of his strength, he cautiously started out toward the path up the hill, staying as low to the ground as he could. He knew that there might be people around that he did not want to meet.

He stayed off any paths and crept through the weeds and bushes. It was now nearing full night when he crossed the main road that led up the hill. Hurrying his steps, just in case he was being followed, Mach moved quickly and as stealthily as he could through the brush. Hoping to outrun what may be behind him and catch up to some of the villagers further up the hill. Mach knew he could survive the forest, but it would be so much easier if he were in a large group.

It was about mid-night when Mach came across a clearing that he frequently rested at on his way to and from town. There were large fig and apple trees surrounding the clearing. He knew he was just an hour or two away from Madtu.

He also knew he could not make it. He was so exhausted his eyes were closing on him even as he thought to continue. He sat down on the ground and leaned against a tree, hoping he was in a good enough spot that he would not be spotted if anyone, or anything, came looking. He closed his eyes and was lost to sleep a moment later.

He dreamt of that day and all that had taken place. The morning had been full of fear, but it also excited him in a way he had not expected. At least not since he got caught outside the village at night and was chased for hours by a mountain lion.

The dream changed.

He was facing down a pack of young wolves. He just stood there with his dagger in hand, daring them to make a move, taunting them into attacking. Threatening them with his tiny dagger. There were only three of them, all he had to do was take out one and the other two would flee. After what seemed to him like hours the wolves turned away to find an easier meal.

He had been so scared then but there was something thrilling about it all. It took all his will power not to tell his mother about that trip. He could not tell anyone really, because it would have been bound to reach her ears. If it had, he would no longer have been allowed to go out of the house much less to Madtu.

Then his dream changed again.

He was standing in a field, but he could only see a few yards in any direction. Smoke swirled all around him as he looked for something. His sword was clenched tightly in his hands from anger. Not the one he had as a kid, the one given to him by his father, and not the one that had been the gift from George.

This one was red-silver, with black markings all up and down the blade. It was extremely light and he knew it was sharp enough to slice through a skull with ease. It was a long sword, the end of the hilt came to his chest when the tip was at the floor. He knew there to be something magical about it. Tiny stones embedded on the hilt glowed faintly, he could actually feel power from it...

Then he heard a laugh, a deep and penetrating laughter. You think you can take me on boy! The laughing voice said from beyond a thick fog that had suddenly formed. You don’t have a chance

I will stop you, he heard himself say, anger and courage mixing within to give him more strength than he really had. If not for my own purposes, than just to stop you from hurting anyone else!

As the laughter began again, cold and chilling, it faded away and Mach woke to an odd sound. He quickly realized he was no longer alone.

He did not move at first, but merely looked around without moving his head. It was almost dawn, he could tell because the night was lifting and the grey predawn was above him. He looked around him and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Footsteps came from behind the tree he was leaning against, slow, light and deliberate. Thinking that he had been followed, he froze completely. The footsteps began to walk away. Deciding he would chance a peek, he peered out from behind the tree and saw, to his amazement, that it was a young Gargoyle. A boy younger then Mach by several years. One of the Gargoyle race that had lived in Madtu for longer than Mach’s family had been in Selane.

They kept themselves to themselves and never ventured out far from their homes except to hunt. He could tell right way this was a youngling, at only five feet tall it had to be young. Their peoples were far taller than Humans. Its grayish tan skin was as dull as the tree bark and dirt around him. Long, black hair hung in a tail down his back. His wings were another give away about his age.

An adult Gargoyle had a span of at least double his or her height. This youngling had shortened wings only equal to his own height.

The young Gargoyle had a spear in his hands. He crept slowly throughout the clearing searching the ground and glancing at the bushes for something. He was out hunting, but hunting for what Mach could only guess.

Unless someone asked a scout to be sent for stragglers, it was unlikely this youngling was here for him.

It was about that time that he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, also slow and deliberate. He abruptly realized the youngling was not the one hunting, but the one being hunted.

Mach slowly unsheathed his blade and peered out through the bushes at the moving creature, watching to see what it was. The creature moved again, slowly and with that small movement it came within view between two bushes. His heart almost froze at the sight.

It was a chimera. A creature of mixed species, the chimera was a hybrid of a long forgotten past. They could be made an infinite number of ways, this one was noticeably that of a lion. The head, upper body and front legs and claws were lion-like, melding into a dragonish rear end, all the way down to its tail. It was massive by normal animal standards, probably three feet high and thrice that in length. If he remembered his studies correctly, this thing was still young. Those things could grow to be ten feet high. Rare to see, but even rarer in this part of the world.

This youngling can’t handle this thing by himself, he thought fearfully, neither can I, truth be told, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Quietly he moved himself into a position to strike and waited for the right moment to reveal himself. Perhaps he could surprise the thing and get the advantage.

In what seemed to take hours, the chimera had moved itself into position. The whole time the young Gargoyle was looking for 'his prey', still not knowing that he was actually the prey in this hunt. Mach inched forward, closer to where the youngling was standing, waiting for the chimera’s move. The moment he looked to see where the beast was sitting among the brush, it lunged.

Practically flying through the air, the chimera leapt out of the bush and went straight for the youngling. Its sudden movement forced Mach into action and he leapt from his own hiding spot. The sudden appearance of another creature seemed to have startled the beast.

But surprisingly not the youngling.

With the moment of distraction available, the youngling struck with his spear impaling the chimera in the chest, possibly deep enough to pierce the heart.

The beast, thoroughly confused and in what must be excruciating amounts of pain, roared in anger. Mach took his own chance as the chimera turned its eyes to the youngling and sliced at the beast’s neck, only managing to cut the mane of its head. No damage, but it distracted it enough that the youngling, who Mach had now figured was not just any young Gargoyle, struck again this time just behind the left shoulder blade.

Not knowing which way to turn the beast lunged at Mach swiping with its massive claws. With what felt like a bone-crunching hit, he was thrown back into a tree at least twenty feet away and fell half dazed to the ground. Without missing a beat, the chimera lunged again for him. Time seemed to slow as he watched the thing come at him, teeth and claws ready to kill.

The beast was but a yard away when something huge flew down from the sky and smashed into it. A massive cloud of dust and debris flew everywhere, and Mach barely caught a glimpse of the chimera tumbling into the brush. He heard the roar of the beast and the sounds of its massive feet running away.

He was still dazed as he watched the thing that saved him move toward him through the dust. Mach could tell that this thing was huge, much bigger than that chimera had been. He waited for the worst. To be struck down by the bigger beast, but instead...

You are one gutsy human. came a scratchy deep voice from somewhere above him. Just as Mach was about to focus on the thing in front of him, he was lifted off the ground in what seemed no effort at all.

You are one gutsy human that is for sure. The voice said again.

Mach, standing on his own strength now, looked up and saw that it was an adult Gargoyle standing in front of him, almost a mirror image of the younger one. Well over ten feet tall, its wings wrapped around his shoulder like a cloak. His skin was a dull grey like light storm clouds in the early morning.

Thanks he said, his mind still a little sluggish.

What were you thinking, taking on a beast like that?

It was going for the kid. Mach answered, pointing at the young Gargoyle.

I knew it was there! the youngling said indignantly. He sounded much like the older one but with a slightly higher pitch to his voice.

Well I did not know you knew where it was, so when it attacked I just reacted. All right! I thought it was going to catch you by surprise. He said with his anger rising.

What are you doing out here this early anyways, young one? the adult asked him. Most of your people don't come this way until much later in the day.

I fell asleep over in the bush. I passed out around mid-night Mach answered as the memories of the last day came to him.

I have seen you around the village before. You are from the port down east, right? the adult asked, his eyes cast in the direction of Selane.

Yea I am, well what is left of it anyways. Mach said mournfully glancing in the direction of Selane. The smoke was not visible through the trees. Quickly he told the Gargoyle what had befallen his hometown, from when he woke that morning to him waking up to the chimeras attack.

A few moments passed in which the Gargoyle thought, and in which Mach studied him. The Gargoyle had a normal look for one of his race. They were closely human, that much Mach knew. At some point, so legend says, Gargoyles had been human. He did not know if he believed that or not, but there was enough closeness in the two races for it to be possible.

This Gargoyle was plain faced, with no hair other than that on his head, dark brown eyes that seemed to stare deep into a person’s mind. He was very tall for anyone used to being around regular Humans. Broad shouldered enough to be able to support the wings that held them aloft with their massive bodies. Like the youngling, he carried a spear strapped to his back. But there was something different about him.

This Gargoyle’s face was covered in scars and Mach realized that like most of his race, the Gargoyle was wearing nothing but a pair of long pants made out of some kind of leather. As he looked more, he realized the Gargoyle’s whole body was covered in scars. Some even seemed freshly carved into his flesh. But there was something awfully familiar about him too.

The Gargoyle turned to face the youngling, Curlat, go back to town and let the elder know I won’t be back for a while, than let your brethren know they need to continue your training, alright.

Where are you going? The youngling named Curlat seemed terribly disappointed. Perhaps it was being trained by his brethren. Maybe it was just simply he wanted to go with him.

Don’t worry about it. If they ask, just tell them my duties called. The Gargoyle said, Now go. Off with you. In what was in an unmistakably scornful face the youngling turned and ran off toward the village of Madtu.

You are coming with me, boy. the other said the Gargoyle said gruffly. What is your name anyways? The Gargoyle said, turning away from Mach.

Mach, Mach Derune.

The Gargoyle turned his head sharply, an odd look came across the Gargoyle’s face. It was a look of curiosity and perhaps understanding. The names Bastra, the other said slowly "and we are going to the king in Eldour. He needs to hear about this and quickly. The sooner we get there, the better everyone will be. It would be best to have someone give a first-hand report. And since you are the only one to arrive here at the moment, you will have to do."

That's all good and everything, but I need to find my mother. Mach said bluntly. I need to make sure she is alright, I need to find her.

Don’t worry, lad. Once the elder hears your story from the boy, he will send every available scout to look for the villagers, but we need to go and we need to go now. Things could turn out very badly if the king does not hear about this soon.

Bastra gave him one last glimpse, and Mach’s own personal preferences being ignored, he turned and started out, heading downhill. Mach looked