Myriad (Prentor Book 1)

By Mona Hanna

2016 Revised Edition

Kalin, tired of being put down for who he is, leaves home when he turns eighteen. Despite being a warlock, he’s denied his magic for years because his parents told him magic is evil. He just wants to start a new life and leave his past behind.

But then Kalin is approached by a group who tell him he has a rare kind of power—and the ability to stop a dark warlock from threatening the Royal family. Kalin doesn’t think he can help until one of the witches, a seer named Regina, has a vision about his future.

The truth behind his ability shocks him—and may lead to his death and the death of his new friends. With Regina's visions as his guide, will he decide the risk is worth taking?

This is a NOVELLA of approximately 27,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Hanna
• Release date: Aug 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476398969

Mona Hanna

Mona Hanna is an author of fantasy/romance books. She enjoys writing about love, magic, conflict, trials and the joy of overcoming them. Mona enjoys reading, movies, chocolate, and adores cats. She hopes to release many more fantasy books in the years to come.

Book preview

Prologue

Be careful.... Machayla grasped one of Myriad’s hands with her weak and quivering ones and pleaded with her eyes. She lay before him, her clothes damp from her fever, her hair plastered to her head. She sighed deeply, and the lump of her belly rose and fell.

Myriad placed a hand on the home of his unborn child. He shut his eyes, tears running down his face.

Be careful..., she pleaded again.

He held her face in his hands, looking at the woman who had changed his life. She was everything to him, and he would do everything to save her.

Myriad slowly stood, and Machayla gasped in pain. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Soon, my love, he thought. Soon you’ll be alright. He wouldn’t rest until he’d tried everything.

He left the room and signaled for Edward to go to her, and his young servant hurried to her side. Myriad walked out of their home, wondering if he would return with the cure, if he would come back and save them all.

He had to do something.

After all, Machayla was at stake. He didn’t want to become who he was before she was with him. Before he’d changed for her.

Changed for her and their unborn child.

He had to save them.

He had to save himself.

Chapter 1

Kalin shouldered his satchel and left his parents’ home late in the night. He wandered down the road, eyes adjusting to the moonlight. Enough, he thought. He’d had enough. All those years of being told he was nothing, useless, horrible, abnormal. He was an adult now and he was done. It was over.

He walked for a long time, shivering in the wind. He wrapped his cloak around him tightly, heading for the tavern at the edge of town. He didn’t have a lot of money but could spare some for the night. He didn’t like the thought of sleeping outside.

Kalin finally arrived at the brown building and pushed open the heavy wooden door. The warmth of the dimly lit room hit him, a relief from the cold. He quickly shut the door and looked around, hoping the place was hospitable at that time of night.

To his relief the large room was nearly empty. An old man, mumbling to himself over his ale, sat at a table on the left of the room. A fire burned in the fireplace along the wall by him. Two middle-aged men sat at a table in the center of the room, talking about something in voices too soft for others to hear.

Kalin walked past them towards the bar and approached the innkeeper, a short man with curly grey hair.

The man put down the book he was reading, and looked at Kalin over his spectacles. You after a room? he asked, and Kalin nodded. The man turned, reached for a key hanging from a block of wood along with several others, and offered it to Kalin, who grasped the piece of iron the key dangled from. Dinner comes with the price, the innkeeper said, pointing to the sign on the wall that had the cost of renting a room. After Kalin handed the man a few coins, the man put the coins away and then went to get Kalin his food.

Kalin sat with a sigh at a table to the left of the room. Close to the fire, he removed his heavy cloak. He gazed at the candle that sat in the center of the table, pleased he had somewhere safe and warm to be. His stomach turned at the thought of his parents finding the note he’d left when they woke up tomorrow, but he couldn’t face them. They’d all known for years he’d leave when he turned eighteen, and he’d finally done it. He didn’t want to have a conversation with them or receive any final words of criticism. He’d had enough harsh words to last him a lifetime. In truth he hoped he’d never see them again.

Sometime later, he was finishing the last of his stew, the rich meal warming his insides, when he felt someone watching him. He glanced around the room and saw a man he hadn’t noticed earlier sitting in a dark corner. He had short blond hair, wore black clothing, and looked in his late thirties. The man continued to stare, making Kalin suddenly nervous.

To his surprise the blond man walked towards him. He was very tall, even taller than Kalin. The man reached his table and sat at the chair opposite him.

Kalin looked at him anxiously and ran a hand through his short, dark hair, dreading having to talk to the man. He was useless at talking to strangers. Or anyone, for that matter.

The stranger folded his hands on the table. It’s a dangerous time right now for some people, he said.

Kalin looked into his blue eyes, feeling a much deeper sense of dread than he had before. Does he know? How?

It’s less than three weeks until the princess’s birthday, the man continued, looking at Kalin closely. Seekers are about. They often come to places like this in the middle of the night. Do you know how to handle yourself?

Kalin looked down at his hands. Was the man... warning him? Was he trying to help? Was his secret safe, at least for a while?

I-I don’t know.... I don’t know what....

The man reached a hand towards Kalin, holding it near his glass with his palm low to the table, and Kalin thought he saw a faint light shimmer from beneath the man’s hand before he withdrew it.

A small, flat round stone, vivid blue in color, sat before him.

Carry that with you at all times, the man said, nodding at Kalin. My name’s Theodore. He stood and slowly walked back to his table.

Kalin sat there, not knowing what to think. He hesitated, then picked up the blue stone, finding it cold and smooth. He looked back over to where Theodore had been sitting, but he’d left the tavern. Kalin frowned, wondering if it was all some kind of trick. He placed the stone into his pocket, then stood and gathered his things. He wanted to go to sleep, wanted this night to be over.

He was walking to the staircase when the door to the tavern opened and three tall, broad-shouldered men in uniform walked into the room. They each carried a wooden staff with a silver orb at the top.

Kalin gulped, horrified. With every part of him, he wanted to run.

Seekers.

***

The innkeeper, a young man who worked for him, Kalin, and the three other customers all lined up in a row. The Seekers stood before them—two a few paces back, one up close—in their black uniforms with red-and-gold trim.

Kalin was a nervous wreck, knowing he would be found out at any moment. He would be thrown in prison, as people of his kind—people with magic—were forbidden in Prentor.

For as long as he could remember, warlocks and witches had been banned, though many lived in secret. Those with powers had to be careful not to use them in public, but Kalin hadn’t used his magic in years, for reasons of his own. Although the king was ever vigilant with his punishment of warlocks and witches, he was never more so than near the princess’s birthday, when the murders by the infamous warlock, Myriad, occurred.

Kalin should have known Seekers would be around, and now he had no idea what to do.

The closest Seeker adjusted his hat, then walked to the end of the row and pointed the staff at the old man. The silver orb did nothing when he pointed at the man’s chest. If the man were a warlock, the orb would have glowed.

The man grumbled to himself, swaying slightly, seemingly unaware of what was going on.

The Seeker smirked, his dark gaze moving to the pair next to the old man. Again the silver orb did nothing. The Seeker nodded, then moved to Kalin.

He stood close to Kalin, their eyes level, and Kalin swallowed nervously, his hands starting to shake. The Seeker turned and