Dreams of Fantasy: Heart of Wind

By Vasil Meg

Everyone has a weakness, even the great demigod hero of the North. While on a quest to heal his son's illness, a terrible foe captures what the skyborn holds dear in exchange for the pure golden water that can cure even death. Yet things take an unexpected turn when a horrible beast and a strange Nenir (mage or warlock?) interfere in his affairs. Hegnus has to face an overwhelming enemy in order to save his son. For the first time in a thousand years, the challenge seems to be beyond his supernatural strengths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359619641

Book preview

Epilogue

Prologue - A look back at the future

There is no hope unless you're hopeless uttered the strange man with the long grey hair and the black clothes to the three armed bandits that were standing in front of him. The steep rocky slope behind him has stopped the wild chase leaving him trapped and cornered by these outlaws. He looked like a simple person and they were three seasoned warriors. Clearly the odds were against him. But, he didn't yield.

So, who will be first? he pondered nervously and took one step forward.

Let me have the pleasure, sir said the tallest bandit to the one in the middle.

All yours responded the blond bearded outlaw and the first warrior charged without warning towards the grey haired man. The attacker however, didn't even manage to approach his target. A blue spark, barely visible, struck him in the face and within seconds he vanished leaving behind only swirling smoke.

What in the name of Wind Allroyal? yelled the leader of the crooked band before his other companion threw down his sword and fled to the forest.

As I said whispered the strange man No hope unless you are hopeless and then, suddenly the bearded warrior turned into a tree with his screams dying out behind the brown wood that stuffed his mouth. A baby was heard afterwards, crying deep in the forest and the man with the grey hair known as Verah Iniga rushed to the sound of weeping. He saw a baby boy lying on the grass and then listened a peculiar galloping echoing all around him. A familiar smell filled his nostrils and Verah knew what was responsible for this baby left out here in the wild.

Where are you, you accursed seed of the Summoner? he screamed, shaking the branches of the tall dark trees. A roaring laughter came in response and Verah frowned, taking the baby in his arms. He looked at the infant speaking in a forbidden language and it soon started to transform into a green glass cylinder. Verah hid the cylinder inside the white trunk of a tree.

You wouldn't stand a chance, little fighter he said staring angrily into the darkness.

Chapter 1: Troubled Thoughts

A small fire was burning under the cedar trees. Long shadows were quivering over the barren ground and while not even the wind dared to speak at this time of hour, three voices were pinching intensely the silence of the moonless night; one man with long black hair and mesmerizing blue eyes, a boy with green blue eyes and short brown hair and an old man with hazel eyes and curly white hair on his head. They all wore black woolen cloaks and they were sitting around the fire talking loudly about the difficult journey ahead of them.

The way to the Snail Mountain is beyond these woods. With any luck we'll be there in three days said the old man.

Is there anything we should worry about once we reach the foothills of the Snail? asked the young traveler and before the white haired man opens his mouth, the blue eyed warrior answered:

Only that which you cannot see

And what is that?

The powers of the world above he replied to him again and a deep smile wrinkled his face. The young man grinned back saying:

That world is nothing compared to you, Dad and the raven haired warrior gave him a wink.

His name was Hegnus and he was a demigod, the son of the Sky who came into existence from inside a dragon's carcass five hundred years ago. He was a very powerful man, a heavenly protector of Anarctia and a plague to his enemies. Sometimes on the field of battle, a blue glowing mist would come out of his eyes and render useless anyone foolish enough to oppose him.

Unfortunately, his son, Dulcan didn't inherit any of his father's great powers. The boy was born sick and at the age of twenty became paralysed below the waist. When he was twenty-three he decided to eat little despite his father's strong objection. He wanted in that way to show his support to the starving people of the southern regions of the