Malakai (An Avant Champion Origin of Malos Story): The Avant Champion, #0

By CB Samet

"Before there was an Avant Champion, there was a nation at war, facing destruction by sword and magic." —Booksprout Reviewer

 

The world has fallen to war and chaos. A sacrifice must be made.

In the wake of the king's death, the forces of Bellos descend upon Karnelik. The Karnelik army prepares defense and retaliation, but Prince Malakai Dallik knows that they soon fight a losing battle. 

 

Their only hope is a far-fetched scheme involving magic conjured by Queen Isabel. Poisoned by an assassin, Malakai watches from his deathbed as disastrous events unfold. 

 

Will magic save the kingdom or doom them all? 

 

This exciting prequel to the epic fantasy adventure, The Avant Champion, gives the backstory to Malakai and how he transformed to Malos. Best read between novels 1 and 2 of The Avant Champion

 

Best sequence to read The Avant Champion series:

~Rising~

~Honor~

Malakai

~Ashes~

~Conquest~

Brother's Bond

Isabel

~Redeem~

• Language: English
• Publisher: CB Samet
• Release date: Jan 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386268130

Book preview

Malakai

Malakai

An Avant Champion Origin of Malos Story

CB Samet

Contents

Untitled

Foreword

Malakai

AC Rising Sample

Untitled

Enjoy The Avant Champion series

Prequel Story to

The Avant Champion fantasy series

Malakai published by CB Samet

Winston Salem, NC

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www.cbsamet.com

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© 2018 Novels by CB Samet

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

[e-mail]

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Print ISBN: 9781732452534

Created with Vellum Created with Vellum

I rise to conquer,

Rise to claim,

Rise to breed fear from my name.

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I steal the moons,

Steal the yolk,

Steal the breath of kindred folk.

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I bring destruction,

Bring desolation,

Bring wars to crumble entire nations.

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Men come and men go

The world turns to and fro

But I go on forever.

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Malos’ Promise

Circa year 1012

The king is dead!

I staggered at the announcement, forcibly struck by the words. The assassination of my father meant war soon descended upon us. He had been on a diplomatic mission of peace talks between Karnelik and the advancing troops from the continent of Bellos.

The king is dead.

The announcement in the great hall of the castle filled me with a mixture of dread and odd detachment. I hadn’t known my father well. War across the continent ensured he was often absent as his children grew. I had heard the news of his death before the public announcement, but the news still felt powerfully shocking.

I wavered in my boots as I stood, the room feeling hot and heavy and crowded. The overcast sky loomed outside the windows, and dim light from candle chandeliers cast long shadows over the room. My long-sleeved, embroidered tunic and pants were too thick for the warm room and suffocating news.

Malakai. My brother placed a hand on my shoulder.

The strength of Orrick’s grip steadied me. Knots balled in my stomach, but standing before army generals and the royal court was not the time to show weakness.

The immobilized terror on the faces of those filling the room was palpable. I allowed the acceptance of the king’s death to sink into me in the silent, desolate way a ship sinks into the ocean.

Murmuring and sobbing began and spread through the great hall like a fanning swarm of bees.

Mother spoke. Our army prepares now.

Her booming tone stunned me. I had never heard her sound so domineering. She was a small, thin woman with an abundance of curling auburn hair. Her small frame had shrunk and thinned from the stress of perpetual war. Her frail size was hidden under her maroon and gold embroidered robe and disguised by the strength of her voice.

We will meet Zallik’s forces on the battlefield in seven days. We will stop their advancement to Karnelik. Their forces will never reach our gates.

She spoke the words with unwavering conviction, but they couldn’t possibly be true. The army from the continent of Bellos had not lost a single battle on their relentless march across Crithos.

War had been raging across the globe since my grandparent’s were children. No living person could recall a time without war. What was another battle going to accomplish? Rulers rotated and laws altered, but the premise remained the same—pillage, devastation, and death. Battles changed nothing. Peace talks changed nothing.

Why had the king left the safety of our castle to attempt peace talks? I remembered what my history tutor engrained in me—talking was futile. Perhaps my father knew that fighting was also futile. Our strong hold was mountain on three sides and stone walls of the castle facing southwest.