Of Metal and Magic Year One Compendium

By JM Williams

Forged from the abyss by the elder gods, the history of Soria spans over 10,000 years.

In this time, the people of the world have seen bloody wars, the rise and fall of divine empires, and pitched struggles between dragons and unicorns—the very children of the gods who created men. Though the seed of civilization was planted on the continent of Elitor, people crossed the wide oceans to other lands, and to divergent evolutions. Today the world revolves around two great powers: Telsemar in the east, and Drumnaught in the west. It is from the dusty volumes in the duty halls of these cities' grand depositories, that we look back on the tumultuous history of Soria and the tales of Metal and Magic.

This book is a collection of the first chapters (or “episodes” as we call them) for the novels we are planning to publish in 2021. Not only will this give you a sense of the wide narrative range our CORE stories offer, but will allow you to pick out and follow your favorite OMAM author. All CORE stories take place in the same epic fantasy universe, and are penned by dozens of authors, whose tales of adventure and intrigue overlap, reference, and influence each other. All official CORE narratives are part of a single unified canon.

In this volume you will find samples of our planned CORE releases for 2021, including:
•Call of the Guardian, a novel by JM Williams
•Pariah’s Lament, a novel by Richie Billing
•Scion of the Oracle, a novel by E.A. Robins
•To Wield the Stars, a novel by Douglas W. T. Smith
•The Mad Reign, a novel by Chris Brock
•The Fierce, a novel by JM Williams

Of Metal and Magic is epic fantasy at its finest. Come dive into one of our expansive fantasy worlds!

• Language: English
• Publisher: JM Williams
• Release date: Dec 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005769833

JM Williams

Of Metal and Magic Publishing was founded in 2020 by veteran authors Richie Billing and JM Williams, with a focus on quality epic and high fantasy fiction.The collaboration began many years prior when Richie, JM, and a handful of other authors came together to create a new fantasy world. Our international menagerie crafted stories which all took place in the same epic fantasy setting. We developed a unique method of storytelling that involves writing in the same shared fantasy universe, which we each populate with our characters, cultures and stories. Through hard work and heated debates, we developed a unified canon and history for our world, SORIA.Though they are designed as stand-alone works, our stories all influence the greater narrative of our shared world, even directly referencing or overlapping with each other. We refer to these Soria stories, relating to our original fantasy world, as Of Metal and Magic CORE stories.But we do much more than our CORE series. It is this innovative and unique format of shared worlds that Of Metal and Magic Publishing wishes to build on. In addition to seeking out new voices and the best talent in the traditional fantasy genre, we also seek to craft new worlds for our authors and contributors to relish and share. Every single story published by OMAM has the potential to grow into something greater, a new epic world of shared narratives.The OMAM team has been writing and publishing for years and felt that, with all of our combined experiences, we could create a publisher which could give opportunities to new and exciting voices in the world of fantasy, help and support writers with their careers, and above all, contribute to the world of writing in new and exciting ways. To that end, you can check out our sponsored podcast, The Fantasy Writers’ Toolshed—available on Spotify, Google Play, YouTube, and other major podcast hosts.As a publisher, we are always looking for submissions from new authors. In addition to publishing novels in our signature flavor, we also publish short fiction on our website and in occasional anthologies. We are also not averse to fantasy verse. If you’re a fantasy author, whatever your chosen format, send us your work.

Book preview

Note to the Reader

YOU HOLD IN YOUR HANDS something very special. This book is an Of Metal and Magic CORE collection. All CORE stories take place in the same epic fantasy universe, the magical world of Soria. The Of Metal and Magic (OMAM for short) CORE project includes dozens of authors, whose tales of adventure and intrigue overlap, reference, and influence each other. All official CORE narratives are part of a single unified canon.

This book is a collection of the first chapters (or episodes as we call them, harkening to television as one of our major influences) for the novels we are planning to publish in 2021. Not only will this give you a sense of the wide narrative range our CORE stories offer, but will allow you to pick out and follow your favorite OMAM author.

Each novel or series is an independent project, designed to be a stand-alone work that can be enjoyed all by itself. But the real magic comes from reading multiple series and discovering the many points of intersection and convergence that our many authors have created. The depth of our world is further enhanced by short stories and worldbuilding pieces you can read for free on our WEBSITE.

In the coming months, we will be focusing our releases on CORE stories including:

A Wealth of Knowledge, a novella by J.D. Mankowksi

Call of the Guardian, a novel by JM Williams

Pariah’s Lament, a novel by Richie Billing

Scion of the Oracle, a novel by E.A. Robins

To Wield the Stars, a novel by Douglas W. T. Smith

The Mad Reign, a novel by Chris Brock

The Fierce, a novel by JM Williams

We expect to start releasing these books, one a month in the order listed above, starting in January 2021. So, if you’re hoping to get a copy of Pariah’s Lament, you’ll be able to find it out in the wild starting in March.

At Of Metal and Magic, we strive to create and publish the best in traditional and epic fantasy. This all began with the collaboration of Richie Billing, JM Williams, and handful of other authors, as we developed the world of Soria beyond a handful of notes scribbled in a colleague’s notebook, into the living, breathing history you are about to experience.

All OMAM projects have the potential to expand into larger collaborative worlds—indeed, this is one of our primary goals as a publisher. But nothing beats a CORE series and the complexity we’ve added to the world of Soria.

We hope you enjoy your time reading about our world as much as we enjoyed creating it. For sure, there are many more stories to tell. But for now, enjoy the Year One Compendium.

Call of the Guardian

Episode One: The Call

JM Williams

We know dragons were born of fire. The pain involved in the process of creating life, of being born, must have contributed to their brutal view of the world. Is it then, perhaps, not too surprising that the last guardian, the last human to bond with a dragon in friendship, would have endured a similar shaping?

Professor Miro Arakat

Department of History

Telsemar University

One

THE AIR CRACKLES and hisses. Something large falls in a nearby room, vibrating the bed. The boy opens his eyes to an amber glow. He breathes in hot smoke and coughs.

The blacksmith stood before Drayven, waving his large hands to get the boy’s attention.

Don’t just stand there with your mouth open! The floor is on fire!

The living memory within Drayven shadowed reality, threatening to overwhelm him, but he did see the line of fire crawling along the floor like a glowing serpent. Sparks from the forge must have struck some dry grass and debris on the ground and ignited the fragile stuff. The blacksmith whacked at the flame with a broom, like an old lady shooing a cat, but his efforts had little effect. Drayven wanted to help, to move, but…

The boy rolls off his straw mattress just as it goes up in flames. The heat burns his eyebrows and singes his cheeks. He hears cries from the other room. A woman’s scream.

Daddy! Petra ran into the room, but upon seeing the fire, she began twirling around in frantic fits, stamping her feet and shaking her hands. His daughter in hysterics, the blacksmith once again turned to Drayven.

Quick you fool, get the water barrel from outside and the leather aprons off the workbench! The words were directed to Drayven, but it was the girl who responded.

What in the name of Xigor is wrong with you, boy? Snap out of it!

Drayven couldn’t catch his breath. His fists clenched defensively, though he knew they would be no help against the raw power of nature.

The flames consume the bed and rise along the wooden walls. Bright, devilish claws rip and tear at the boards. The boy stands up to run but is left gasping and choking by the cloud of hot smoke saturating the room. He falls to his knees and crawls. The woman screams again, this time in severe pain. A man also yells, but his voice is distant, weak.

Petra returned, struggling to drag the full barrel, which she tipped onto the ground. The lid broke off, and the water poured out like a rushing river. It met the line of fire with a heavy charge. Spinning dragons of flame and fluid fought, until the water gained the advantage. Steam rose from the hissing puddles where the water had smothered its foe.

The boy puts his hands to his head in a panic. A few final screams pierce through his fingers, the ones he hoped would shield his ears. They don’t. A large beam smashes into the ground behind him. He feels the intense heat of the blaze on the back of his neck. Fingers of hot air grope his hair. His face is wet with sweat. He crawls to the door. The flames chase him along the walls and ceiling and floor, reaching for him.

The water had damaged the fire on the ground, but not enough, and not fast enough. Scattered embers still burned, and part of the wall was now on fire. The blacksmith continued to beat at the glowing cinders with his broom. Petra returned with a leather apron and joined in the assault. The two worked in well-trained unison, like a pair of fighters in a phalanx, one attacking just as the other withdrew. Drayven stood motionless, unable to do anything but watch.

Drayven! Help us! the girl cried.

Forget it! He’s gone stupid! her father shouted.

Drayven’s breaths came faster than the doubled attacks of the blacksmith and his daughter. He put his hands to his mouth to try to catch them, but they escaped through his fingers. Tears filled his eyes. His body hunched, threatening to collapse. It took all his strength to run from the room.

The room is both an oven and a mill, baking and turning. The back-wall groans, ready to break. When it does, the whole house will drop on the boy. He reaches the door, but it is blocked by something outside. He cannot open it. The hot air burns his nose and lungs; the stench of burning flesh follows. He hears a voice from the other side of the door. A man cries out. The boy struggles to reply, his throat decimated by the smoke and heat. The man strikes the door, trying to force it open…

Drayven fled from the fire. He didn’t stop until he reached the creek running alongside the village. His mind told him his hands were burning, so he dropped to his knees and plunged them into the water. They continued to ache. He swirled them around in the stream, begging for the pain to stop. His breaths came and went so quick, too quick, and the dizziness was only made worse by the long sprint.

Pulling his hands from the creek, Drayven stared at them. They were red and tender. He had seen them like this before. As his mind cleared, he realized this time the icy water had been the only cause. He put a cold hand to the back of his neck—no burn there. He ran his wet fingers across his face; his eyebrows were still as full and bushy as they had ever been. Drayven let out a long breath and sat down on the cool, rocky ground.

He gazed out, past the creek, past the hilly decline, past the forest of thick green trees—the green of spring and vibrancy and life—to where the sun was just beginning to poke out above the canopy. Looking out, with eyes more troubled and experienced than any ten-year-old’s should ever be, he chastised himself for freezing up at the smithy. He had only proven his worthlessness and ineptitude to another adopted father. The boy was certain he would be looking for a new home in the coming days.

Everyone in the village sang sympathetically to his troubles, but none wanted to take in the orphan, to take on the burden of another mouth in the current times of scarcity and struggle. Petra had been his closest friend, even before the great fire had claimed his mother, and war had taken his father shortly after. It had been Petra who convinced her own father, the blacksmith, to take Drayven in as an apprentice. But the boy proved mostly useless in the forge. Every spark and flame carried the voices of the dead.

Drayven focused his dark brown eyes on the rising sun. The early, intense rays struck his face—his features long and gaunt, as if stretched by emotional burdens beyond his age—and instantly warmed his curled mess of silky black hair. He picked his body off the ground, dusted off his tan leather pants, and pulled down the long green sleeves of his woolen shirt. The clothes were worn and cracked, but they kept him warm enough. That was all that really mattered.

He heard the pattering of footsteps approaching from the direction of the village and turned to see Petra rushing towards him. A voice in his head told him to run away, to avoid the shame of his previous retreat, of leaving her and her father alone to battle with the fire. But it was Petra, his only friend. He knew he had to endure any condemnation.

Drayven! she cried, skipping to a halt, panting and bracing herself on her knees.

Drayven waited for her scolding. To his surprise, it didn’t come.

Are you okay? she asked, her concern genuine. What happened back there? You looked like you saw a ghost.

Drayven opened his mouth to speak, but the dead still had their grip on his voice. He simply nodded.

The wind blew strands of sunflower blond hair across Petra’s face. Looking up into her narrow hazel eyes, Drayven wondered why she wasn’t mad at him. Because of your parents, right? she asked with a caring smile. The fire at your home? You still remember it?

I can still feel it, he said, his voice hollow. I thought I was burning.

Okay. I get it. Why you ran away…Don’t worry, we put it out. It wasn’t a big fire.

Drayven was starting to feel relieved, but his shame muscled its way back in. He stared at the ground silently. Petra kicked a loose stone into the water.

Don’t worry about it, she said.

I have to worry. I have to find a new home now.

What? Petra’s expression revealed genuine surprise. Why would you think that?

Your father was yelling at me.

Daddy understands. Just like I do. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Come on, kid. Let’s get home.

Kid? You’re only three years older than me!

Yeah. So if I were a dragon, I’d have eaten you up already.

Oh, really? You think so? Let me show you this little whelp’s teeth!

Drayven reached out to grab Petra. Sensing the attack, she ducked under his hands and sprinted off along the creek trail. Drayven spun around and dashed after her. They both laughed at the chase.

Suddenly Petra slid to a halt, her feet creating tread lines in the dirt. Two figures were coming up the trail towards them.

Oh, no. Not those guys. Petra groaned. Come on, let’s hide.

It was too late. The two boys had spied Petra and Drayven and sprinted up to meet them.

Hey, runts, the taller of the two boys said. What are you doing out here?

Might ask you the same question, Tareth, Petra replied.

We just tossed Marten in the creek, the second boy, Jevuhn, said.

The two boys were only Petra’s age, Tareth even a year younger than her, but somehow had developed the arrogance of men twice as old. So similar in appearance, they were often mistaken for brothers. They were not siblings, nor had they any relation at all besides the same shade of thick black hair and same bulging gray-brown eyes. Tareth was taller than Jevuhn by about half a head, but the other boy’s clothes were nicer. A point Jevuhn never failed to mention to anyone.

Can’t you two just let Marten be? Petra asked. The two boys were opportunists and unfortunately Marten—the son of a local trade merchant—was smaller, slower, and provided plenty of bullying opportunities for Tareth and Jevuhn.

Jevuhn snorted. We let him be all wet. You want to join him?

Just try me, Petra threatened, waving a fist in the air.

Isn’t that nice, Jev. This girl is protecting her boyfriend who’s too scared to say anything.

Shut up, Drayven managed.

Or what? Tareth asked mockingly.

Come on, Drayven, we can take ‘em, Petra said.

Not needing any further invitation, the older boys lashed out with kicks and punches. Petra dodged to one side and kicked Jevuhn hard in the shin, forcing a cry out of him. Baring down on Drayven, Tareth seized the smaller boy by the shoulders, picking him up. Drayven delivered a few quick knee thrusts to Tareth’s belly. The taller boy gasped. Drayven could hear the shuffle of Petra and her opponent in his ear but kept his focus on his own fight. Tareth recovered and lunged with a long-armed punch. Drayven ducked and landed a two-handed blow to the same part of the boy’s stomach where his knees had delivered the previous beating. The taller boy gasped for air.

Hey, Tareth! I got her! Jevuhn held Petra from behind, his arms wrapped around her struggling body.

Drayven scooped up a fist-sized rock in his hand. He shouldered Tareth aside and hurled the stone at Jevuhn. To his dismay, Petra twisted in the boy’s grip, and the stone struck her in the forehead. She cried out as she and Jevuhn both tumbled to the ground.

Ha! Nice shot, runt! Tareth said.

Drayven pounced on him like a kamani, filled with feline grace and fury. Mounted on top of the bully, Drayven rained blows down on his enemy’s face and chest. Tareth’s nose and cheek oozed blood. The older boy struggled to escape, but Drayven forced him back down.

Drayven, stop! It was a familiar voice, but Drayven ignored it, meaning to fully vent his rage. Get off him now! It was Petra. She stood glaring at him, holding her bleeding forehead.

Tareth rolled out from under him and ran past Jevuhn, not even bothering to help the other boy to his feet. Jevuhn stumbled away shortly after. Petra continued glaring.

You could have really hurt him! What were you thinking?

They attacked us!

It was just a scuffle. They weren’t out to kill us.

Drayven tried to calm his red-hot anger. Shame once again reared its ugly head. He had hurt Petra. There she stood, hands angrily at her side, as blood ran down the side of her face.

Shame.

Drayven rose to his feet and stepped away from her. He turned and began walking up the hill.

Where are you going? Petra asked.

I need to be alone. Just leave me alone. Drayven couldn’t apologize to her now.

The only thing up there is the dragon’s cave. You can’t go there.

Sure I can.

Do you want the dragon to eat you? She was being sarcastic. Drayven wasn’t in the mood.

Maybe I do. With those words, he dashed up the hill without looking back. He could hear Petra calling after him, but he ignored her. Her voice grew faint as he ran.

Reaching the mouth of the cave, Drayven finally looked back. Petra had not followed. He had known she wouldn’t. She was mad at him; he had seen it in her eyes. He needed some time alone to sort out the day’s problems. Petra probably needed some time, too. They didn’t get along when they were both angry. They could be like a pair of lightning bolts in a storm, sparking off each other. And she was right to be angry, after all. He had caused her to bleed.

Shame.

It followed him like a ghost, as he moved towards the cave mouth, placing a hand to the cold stone. How can so many things go wrong in one day? He thought. He wondered how he could be too scared to act at one moment and be recklessly aggressive the next. It seemed like all he could do was hurt people.

Drayven peered into the darkened cavern, wondering if the rumors about the dragon were true. The village of Aerilen had a long history concerning dragons, or so the elders said. There was even a dragon statue in the town square, one that made Drayven shiver every time he saw it.

Village rumors suggested a dragon had settled in the nearby cave long