The Auslesen Seven: Over the Seven Mountains

By Zachary T.M. Schmitz

From the author who brought you The Auslesen Seven: In The Land of the Unicorn comes its amazing sequel! Join the seven teenagers as they struggle to traverse the mythical Land of Seven Mountains and grapple with their deadliest urges including prideful actions and lusting desires. While the Seven struggle, King Lewy is faced with his own problem--a menacing villain bent on tearing the emperor-slaying king off the throne forever! How can the Seven hope to climb the mountains when theyre nothing but a myth, and how can the king maintain his kingdoms new-found peace? Find out as you follow this fast-paced magical saga!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 28, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453537015

Zachary T.M. Schmitz

Born and raised in Minnesota, Zachary T. M. Schmitz graduated from Buffalo High School and joined the United States Navy at the age of Eighteen. After four years of service, achieving the rank of Petty Officer Second Class, and being awarded the Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal, Schmitz ended his enlistment in pursuit of his two greatest dreams: to be happily married and to be an author.

Book preview

Chapter One

Rude Awakenings

Chris opened his eyes to look at the stars. The stars in the magical universe were so different from the stars on Earth. Astronomers get lost in their own science while staring into the abyss of space, but the view from Earth is nothing in comparison to the stars that grace the magical realm’s skies. Nebulae sparkled in clusters, and three moons coursed the skies against a backdrop of visible planets. The center moon was always full. The other two moons were always crescents, one always waxing, the other always waning. The three moons whirled across the sky, forever revolving above the wizards’ heads and around one another.

You, the reader, must forgive me one calm, relaxing sigh as I picture this. (Sigh.) Camping on the ground is never better than when one can look at those magnificent stars on a beautiful, crisp evening before the bugs have a chance to come out.

The Auslesen Seven had traveled north toward the Land of Seven Mountains since their return from Earth. They had Tried using the Porticue to transport them to the mountains, but the office had only laughed at them, saying that the Land of Seven Mountains was a myth and there was no such thing as the Never Ending Sea. When the Seven made mention of the Poison Road, the Porticue office closed its watery window entirely, telling them not to waste their time.

Wekita, the Unicorn, shuddered in her sleep as the blanket fell off her body. Chris sat up and resituated her covers to make sure she would be warm enough during the night. So much rested on her making it safely over the Land of Seven Mountains. She was the last of her kind. Without her, they would never be able to cross the Never Ending Sea.

Acquiring her was a story all its own. They had teleported back to Earth, climbed Mount Olympus, battled with ancient Greek gods, and then finally captured her using one of Hera’s golden apples. It’s a really long story (over one hundred thousand words, in fact, but if you ever have the time, I highly recommend you read it).

Once Wekita’s blanket was properly placed over her body, the majestic beast began sleeping soundly again. Chris propped himself against her stomach like a giant pillow and held his precious pet Horen, Giamond, in the crook of his arm, where she slept the best.

Giamond was growing very quickly. Chris always worked with her, teaching her new spells and training her to pay attention to his commands. If she was to be a successful wizard’s familiar, she had to be attentive to orders.

With each new spell she mastered, a new dazzlingly colorful feather appeared. It was always a solid color, so vibrant and shiny that it looked like a high-gloss metallic paint had been applied. After months of training, she had lost almost all her ugly chick down. So thankfully, she no longer looked like an ugly black-and-white-speckled chicken, but more and more like the elegant bird she would become.

Every legal wizard student in the magical universe is given a pet to serve as their familiar. Chris’s was Giamond, his pet horen. The familiars were forever loyal and never left their master’s side unless ordered—or unless they were being naughty. Training a familiar is the same as training a new puppy (it feels impossible for the first few months).

Lauren cuddled with Kitty, her golden-colored electrifying feline. Under the night sky and moons’ light, Lauren’s soft golden hair seemed to shimmer with its own magic. Chris’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to swallow hard to catch his breath. She was gorgeous beyond belief and positively heart-stopping to behold!

Lauren’s sister, Rose-Marie, lay cuddling with her own pillow. Her pet, a Cropleaf named Spring, looked like a walking tree. His hardwood bark and sharp, pointed branches made it impossible for him to cuddle with his master. Now that summer was ending, Spring looked almost miserable. The leaves that had budded and grown on Spring’s branches all summer long were now beginning to dry out and crackle in the dryness of the oncoming autumn.

Lauren and Rose-Marie were twin sisters but not identical. Lauren’s hair was golden blond and her eyes a pale blue. Rose-Marie’s hair was dark brown, and her eyes matched. Both were very pretty, but Lauren’s spunky, somewhat ditzy nature made her stand out next to her sister’s serious and practical nature. Lauren dressed to accent her perfectly-proportioned body, showing the crests of her perky breasts. Although Rose-Marie had much the same build, she always wore loose clothing and tried not to draw attention to her looks. She much preferred people to hear what she had to say.

Jamal and Samantha lay very close to each other, their hands touching and rubbing gently even while they slept. Though they were shy about expressing it when the others could see, their love affair began when they first met in Samantha’s hometown of Salzberry, the famous floating city.

Although Jamal was a bit clumsy with his sword and nearly always bungled any magic other than water spells, there was no turn of phrase nor loving sonnet he could not perfectly manifest when he was trying to impress Samantha.

Samantha was a charming young lady. Her accent made even the strongest men weak at the knees, especially when gazing into her emerald green eyes. She, like Rose-Marie, did not enjoy calling attention to herself and oftentimes kept quiet. Although not as well-endowed (breastwise) as Lauren and Rose-Marie, Samantha still wore flattering clothing. She did not try to flaunt anything the way Lauren did, but her clothing was neat, formfitting, and practical. As a young girl, Samantha’s mother had taught her to always wear a skirt. To this day, she followed her mother’s teaching (much to Jamal’s thankful/happy eyes).

And just like their masters, Meeko (Jamal’s winged turtle-looking Spint) was cuddling in the Feagle’s feathers. Jake, Samantha’s Feagle, didn’t try to pretend to get along with Meeko while they were awake, but he didn’t seem to mind Meeko cuddling against his feathers while they slept.

James had the most impressive-looking pet of them all. His Carkoff Dragon, Lucy, was barely a year old and already taller than any of them. Her wings stretched out longer than Chris and James if they lay head to head across them. James slept soundly, tucked under Lucy’s wing. Dragons pump hotter blood through their veins than any other animal. One wing was hot enough to make James sweat while he slept.

Bert slept inside his lamp, which was tucked safely in James’s jacket and placed in front of Lucy’s nose. If anyone was foolish enough to try taking the lamp, they would have one hot surprise!

The most unusual sleeping habits, however, were held by Bo and his pet Smear, Coby. Smears are strange-looking creatures. They are made completely of never-drying clay and therefore constantly shift size, shape, and even facial features. Coby’s preferred form—when he was awake—was that of a faithful hound. But when the Smear slept, it curled itself into a ball and became perfectly spherical, allowing its outer skin to become hard to protect itself.

Not more than six inches away from this spherical wonder was Bo, sleeping soundly with his head resting on the ground . . .

And his feet straight up in the air. Bo slept in a perfectly executed headstand, his head and hands creating the necessary tripod. With each blow of the wind, Bo’s legs would wave lazily along with the rhythm of the tree branches.

Chris sighed and shook his head. He could not imagine sleeping like that, but Bo insisted it was the best sleep anyone could ever get.

Bo’s family had, for centuries, been the leading combat experts in the Universe. One can only begin to imagine the training and discipline he had endured even as a toddler. His father was the count of Kanturnz and a proud leader. He had trained his son accordingly.

The seven of them were on a quest to reach the land of the Ravons—a holy quest bestowed upon them by the gods and revealed to them through Chris’s great^20-grandpa.

When Chris and James had first arrived from Earth, Chris was bestowed with the wand of the Chosen One. The Chosen One was foretold to bring an end to the civil war that had plagued the magical universe for the past three thousand years.

At first, Chris had been skeptical toward the idea of being the Chosen One. Accepting such a thing was more than a fifteen-year-old boy could handle. But now it had been a year, and he had begun to accept his fate. There were too many signs pointing toward his destiny for him to ignore.

For one, he had a snake tattoo on his skin. The tattoo was alive and often spoke to him, telling him the will of the gods who had chosen him. The snake moved and slithered across his skin at its leisure. At the moment, the snake was sleeping across his chin (its favorite sleeping position).

Chris had also been able to open the Book of Potions by Gald Fathweather. The author had enchanted the book to only open for the Chosen One. The book contained the most powerful potions the universe had ever known. Gald Fathweather wanted this treasure to be used only by the Chosen One and those he deemed worthy.

And then the Dragon gods themselves told him of his destiny when he visited them in their heavenly plain of Pajeanet. Schevaghnt, the great pink leader of the gods, had told Chris that the wizards had misinterpreted the prophecies. He was not meant to end the civil war. That job was left to another. Chris’s destiny was to end the dark times that would follow thereafter. That is why he was tasked with finding the Ravons. He was to bring them back to the main magical Universe so they could help fight the rising darkness.

It was a lot for a fifteen-year-old boy to take in, and they had a long way to go. They still had to cross the Land of Seven Mountains, cross the Never Ending Sea, find the Cave of the Unknown at the end of the Poison Road, and then somehow get through it to the land of the Ravons.

But with the help of his six friends and their ever-vigilant genie trainer, Bert, Chris would not fail.

Chris, James whispered in English, looking out from beneath Lucy’s wing. You awake?

Yeah, Chris answered. I can’t stop looking at the stars. Remember how you, Jack, and I used to stay up all night waiting to wish on a shooting star?

James smiled as he thought of his friend Jack. He had been their friend through their years at the orphanage. He had been adopted just before they left for the magical universe. Then they had visited him for a short time when they went back to Earth to retrieve Wekita. They missed him terribly, but Jack was a gorble and had to stay in the nonmagical realm.

Yeah, James sighed, we had a lot of fun with Jack back then. But I have to admit, I think I like our new friends better.

Just then, a shooting star flew across the night sky, bright and powerful even against the already dazzling canvas.

For old times’ sake, Chris thought, I wish I could have a family.

Wish granted.

A shiver ran up Chris’s spine, and his body cringed with surprise as he heard the sweetest voice in the wide universe. He hadn’t realized anyone was listening to his thoughts.

What? he asked, trying to sound like he didn’t understand what Lauren was talking about.

I totally heard what your wish was, she answered, moving closer so she could touch his hand. "Chris, you’ve got a family now. Like, we’re your family. The seven of us, you know?"

Chris put his head back on his pillow. Lauren was right. He had a family now. Chris and James were orphans no more.

Just then, as if to accent his happy thoughts with beauty, a multitude of stars shot across the sky. Chris couldn’t begin to count them all (and certainly made no attempt to wish on them individually).

They’re so beautiful, James said, standing in excitement.

Bo, woken up by the noise and commotion the others were making, set his feet on the ground and looked up just in time to hear a high-pitched whistling sound from overhead. "Those are not shooting stars!

Everyone get up! Bo cried, running about the camp, kicking each sleeping member awake. Get up! Wake up! We need to get out of here!

James let Bert out of his lamp. Hearing the high-pitched whistle, Bert gave a quick glance at the sky before screaming, "We need to move!"

Everyone packed up as fast as they could, scrambling to get dressed at the same time.

No time for manual packing! Bert shouted, clapping his hands. Use magic and let’s get out of here!

This was serious! Bert never let them use magic to pack up camp. With quick waves of their hands and snaps of their fingers, everything was packed and they were dressed.

What’s the big deal? Chris asked, tightening the straps on his rucksack.

Suddenly, another high-pitched whistle sounded just before a star struck the ground nearby. The explosion knocked them off their feet, casting dirt and rocks all around.

We have to get out of here! Bert screamed. We’re in the middle of a battlefield!

Come! Chris called to the Unicorn. Scooping Giamond in his arms, he jumped on the Unicorn’s back and rode away from the campsite, dodging the falling stars and evading the debris that ensued with each explosion.

James, Lauren, Jamal, Rose-Marie, Bo, and Samantha were flying nearby, keeping pace. James held Bert’s lamp in a tight football carry. The pets that could fly were carrying the pets that couldn’t.

"What are those things?" James called, dodging another explosion.

They’re made from Dragon’s blood, Bert explained. They glow brightly and look like shooting stars to deceive your opponents.

Bo was thrown into Rose-Marie by a nearby explosion.

You okay? Rose-Marie asked.

I’m fine! Bo shouted back over the whistling explosions ringing in their ears. It didn’t hit me! His arm bled a little, but nothing to worry about.

The Unicorn began to get nervous, her eyes shooting in all directions as the bright lights, whistling, and explosions erupted all around her. She had never experienced anything like this in her homeland with mother Aphrodite!

As another whistling star stuck the ground, Wekita began to snort, stomp, and attempt to break away from Chris’s control.

Don’t be afraid, Wekita! Chris called, stroking her neck soothingly and reigning back on her mane to get her back under control. Everything will be okay!

They didn’t stop their desperate flight for over a mile. The Seven stood and watched in awe as dawn broke on hundreds of people charging one another. Wands were drawn and spells were thrown to knock down the lines of advancing opposition.

Men screamed as their arms were severed and their bellies run through. Women cried out in pain and agony before being brutally silenced.

The Auslesen Seven watched in disgusted horror, overtaken with grief and disbelief. To think that they would have to do this in five years was unbearable. The death, the pain, the suffering—it made their hearts heavy and their stomachs queasy.

Why is there fighting today? Bert exclaimed. "Today’s the Ceremony of Induction! Why is there fighting today?" Red steam poured out his purple ears. If he had feet, he would have stomped them.

The Seven’s spirits lifted a little at the idea of going to the Ceremony of Induction. They needed to get away from the battlefield, needed to get away from the killing.

No, Bert answered, reading their thoughts. There is no point in going back there!

And there’s no point in staying here to watch the battle! Bo retorted.

Bert sighed to himself. What could he say?

*     *     *

King Lewy gasped out of his sleep and sat bolt upright. In his dream, someone had been standing over him with a dagger.

Lewy turned the knob on the magical candle Merlin had enchanted for him. The flame flickered to light the room.

No one was standing over him with a knife.

Lewy sighed in relief. If someone had been there, he would have stood no chance. His swords were on a table across the room. There was no way to reach them.

For a moment, Lewy’s heart still pounded in his head. Ever since the war had ended with him beheading the Ribelle emperor, Lewy hadn’t had a single decent night’s sleep.

A rebellion had begun not one week after the war had ended. At least a hundred death threats and even more assassination attempts had already happened in such a short time (just barely three months). So far, none had found their way into his room.

If things had been troublesome before the end of the war, they were worse now. The magical universe, it seemed, was now divided into three groups, where before it had been only two.

One group of people represented his faithful and devoted subjects—Loyalists, he called them. They loved that the official war had ended and were bright eyed and hopeful for the prospect of everlasting peace.

This first group consisted of both members of the Elite nation as well as converts from the Ribelle nation. Most of the Ribelle converts were young adults, fresh out of basic schooling, and just beginning higher education in their chosen fields (college kids). Though their youthful know-it-all attitudes sometimes proved annoying, Lewy appreciated their support and was wholly surprised at how quickly they accepted a unified nation under one flag.

Give peace a chance, man, they would say, passing their smoking pipe around their sitting circle.

The second group was the still-hostile Ribelle devotees. They cursed Lewy’s name and swore they would never follow the flag of the Elite king.

Lewy had expected a few stragglers to not appreciate the idea of Elite rule after three thousand years of war with them. This particular group of individuals did not bother him.

The third group was the most surprising, unexpected, and disturbing of all. They were Elite supporters who refused to unite with or work alongside former Ribelle citizens. They felt that, as the conquering nation, they deserved more rights than the former Ribelles.

Lewy refused to entertain such beliefs. All wizards under his rule were equals so long as they obeyed the laws. Those that didn’t obey the laws were imprisoned or put to death. Such is the way to keep peace and sanity. Lawlessness could not be tolerated. In order to rebuild the country, Lewy knew that he needed to be firm but oftentimes found himself having to be forceful! He didn’t like that.

The three groups formed a very strange symbiotic triangle—each leg supporting the other out of necessity.

As the base, there were the Loyalists. They unknowingly held up and supported the other two legs: the Ribelle devotees and the discontented Elite party members. The discontented Elite and the Ribelle devotees both walked among the Loyalists, using them for support and an open place to hide.

But those two opposing legs (opposing in so much as they wanted to kill one another) also relied and depended on one another! Though they hated one another, Lewy swore they still worked together in some form either by feeding each other information or helping one another conspire in the shadows.

Just like the three-thousand-year war, those that hated each other relied on one another to maintain their way of life. But when brought face-to-face, they would fight and kill one another without knowing any real reason why. They simply did not want their world to change, and they were violently working together to continue killing one another.

Lewy sighed again, rubbing his temples in frustration. This was all so confusing and stupid!

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Lewy saw the curtains rustle.

Lewy held his breath. The curtains hung as a mere decoration, covering a wall enchanted to look like it peered outside. There were no real windows in his room to allow a wind to actually stir his curtains!

Suddenly, from behind the curtains, a man charged, holding a shimmering dagger menacingly above his head. He tackled Lewy and held him down by the throat.

Dirty tyrant! the man growled as he stabbed downward.

Lewy caught and held the man’s knife-wielding arm with one hand and reached out with the other toward the table across the room, toward his swords. If only he could have just one! It would save his life!

Lewy watched as one of his swords unsheathed itself and came racing into his open hand. Blade in hand, Lewy stabbed the man through the ribs, rupturing his heart and lungs. The man’s eyes widened and then darkened as a stream of blood began flowing from his mouth.

The assassin’s body went limp, dropping the knife from his limp fingers. Lewy tried to move his head out of the way, but the dagger still sliced through his cheek. With an effort, Lewy shoved the dead assassin aside and jumped off the bed, still holding his blade toward the dead body. As the assassin bled through his mouth and gaping chest wound, the blood stained the king’s white sheets and purple mink blankets in a pool of scarlet blood.

Panting, Lewy felt his own blood still trickling down his face. Still holding the blade toward the assassin’s dead body, he frantically rushed into his bathroom and grabbed a cloth with which to apply pressure to his sliced cheek.

Lewy held the blood-soaked rag to his face and the bloodstained blade toward the corpse for a further five minutes before he started feeling a wave of calm washing over him. As the calm came, so did the trembling realizations that he had almost been killed, that his face was bleeding profusely, and—most amazing of all—that his sword had flown to his outstretched hand!

Finally accepting that the assassin was dead, Lewy sat on the bed next to the body and pondered, staring at his sword with amazed wonder as his cheek protested with pulsing throbs.

His thoughts whirled as he tried to remember exactly what happened. The only thing he remembered clearly was the blade flying through the air and into his open hand.

"That’s impossible," Lewy said to himself.

Merlin appeared in a puff of smoke. My king! Are you injured?

No, Merlin, Lewy said, waving a disregarding hand at his advisor. I’m fine.

Merlin touched Lewy’s hand, moving the rag away from Lewy’s fresh cut. The wound was still gushing blood, and Merlin could see the king’s teeth through the hole.

"Oh, I guess there is that," Lewy said, suddenly bringing himself back to reality.

Merlin flicked his wrist, and a bottle appeared in his hand. Lewy recognized it—healing potion. After only one swig of the amazing elixir, his cheek healed perfectly.

It’s a good thing that I gave you that as soon as I did, Merlin said, inspecting Lewy’s face closely with his thumbs. Another few minutes and you would have had a horrible scar.

Satisfied that Lewy was okay, Merlin sat in the soft chair next to the king’s bed.

I heard your thoughts screaming out to me from my chambers, Merlin explained, but by the time they’d gotten to me through these thick walls, you had already taken care of the problem.

Lewy began to think clearly once again, and his mind was filled with questions. "How did he get in here, Merlin? I thought that only the guards, you, and myself even knew where my room was! Lewy stood and paced, running his agitated fingers through his hair, streaking it with blood. Wha’ . . . How . . . Bu’ . . . ?"

How did he get in here? Lewy finally screamed, throwing his blade into the corpse so it stuck out of the assassin’s throat.

Blood spattered on Merlin’s face. He ran his fingers through his beard, thoughtfully cleaning out the blood as he pondered. It is possible that we have a rogue guard in the castle. I’ll begin the investigation immediately, your majesty. I swear to you, my liege, it shan’t happen again!

You said it wouldn’t happen in the first place! Lewy retorted, jerking the blade from the assassin’s throat. Blood oozed from the wound like a slow scarlet river. Lewy held the dripping blade toward Merlin’s throat. "I demand that we make me a new room somewhere else with new guards who are loyal to the kingdom!"

Merlin bowed his head, forgiving the blade in his face. His king was understandably distraught. As your majesty wishes, so it shall be done. But I tell you that it will do no good. The rebels who miss their old way of life will never stop finding ways in. Your best bet is to just keep your blades beside your bed like you did tonight and keep on your guard.

My blades? Lewy thought to himself, looking at his sword. How had his sword gotten to his hand?

Come, come, your majesty, Merlin said, opening a robe for Lewy. You mustn’t get yourself all worked up about this. They’re only rebels. And besides, look how easily you dealt with this one. Nothing to worry about, your majesty. I’ll assign new guards tonight.

Very well, Merlin, Lewy said, shrugging into the new robes. The clean robes felt good against his skin, making him feel warm and safe. I trust your judgment.

Thank you, milord. As you should. Have I ever steered you wrong before?

Lewy didn’t say anything. In the past, his adviser had proven much less loyal to him than Lewy liked. Although Lewy didn’t suspect Merlin of conspiring against him, he sometimes doubted that it was his best interests Merlin had in mind.

Isn’t there somewhere I have to be today? Lewy asked as Merlin clapped his hands over the bloody mess on the bed. The assassin’s body disappeared and the sheets, mattresses, and blankets were replaced with fresh ones.

Lewy checked his schedule and gasped. The Ceremony of Induction! Come on, Merlin, we have to get ready! Lewy raced into his bathroom and prepared himself.

*     *     *

The Auslesen Seven sat in the front row, waiting for the ceremony to begin. At first they had been excited to get such premium seats, but when they looked around, they saw there wasn’t nearly the crowd that Chris and James remembered from the previous year. Where was everyone? The stadium was half-empty!

The children on the field all gathered together in one group. There was no divide between them as there had been the year before. The Auslesen Seven watched with perplexed curiosity.

As Merlin walked onto the field, everyone in the stadium stood and cheered, though it sounded weak in a half-empty stadium. Merlin raised his hands, and with an amplified voice, he said, Ladies and gentlemen! Not only are we here to celebrate the induction of the next generation of wizards, but we also celebrate the third month since the reuniting of our two countries! The war is over!

The crowd cheered and hooted their applause. This time, despite their small number, the roar was deafening.

Chris’s heart skipped a beat and he started gasping for air. The war was over?

Be that as it may, Merlin continued. There are still those who do not believe in the treaties that were signed by both the king and the Ribelle general. And that minority is being sought out and dealt with as we speak!

The crowd cheered for peace, but the Auslesen Seven had seen firsthand how the rebels were being dealt with.

As Chris allowed the wave of shock to pass over him, he suddenly felt much better about life in general. The war was over! That meant the majority of the fighting was over and they were one step closer to . . .

Chris’s happy moment washed away as he thought what the war being over truly meant to him and the people of the magical universe. The dark times were coming. His great^20 grandfather had told him that this would happen; another, other than Chris, would bring an end to the civil war between the magical nations. Chris was chosen to end the dark times that would follow soon after.

And the king that led us all to unity is here with us today! Merlin announced. "The king, whose blade dealt the final stroke that bound the two nations under one ruler, under one government! The king whose might has once again brought peace to the Universe! King Lewy!"

The crowd erupted with applause as they stood, shouting, and hailing the king as Lewy entered the arena. Lewy held his hands up to them, and they cheered louder. Thank you! he said in a voice that Merlin had amplified.

I didn’t do this for me, Lewy said, touching his chest with both hands while he looked around the stadium, making eye contact with as many people as possible. "Nor did I do it just for Elite. He held up one hand as he accented the word ‘just.’ But for each and every person of both nations! Lewy raised his other hand and shook them both as he accented the word ‘both.’ [Applause] Without the help of brilliant men and women like yourselves—he opened his hands wide to the crowd, turning to look at them all—our nations would still be feuding over ancient and archaic disputes that they themselves can no longer name! Lewy brought both hands back to his chest. I did not do this . . . He opened his arms to the crowd. We did this!"

The crowd went wild. It was difficult to imagine a half-empty stadium was capable of such thunderous applause.

Chris stayed standing when everyone else sat. Bert tugged on his shirt, but Chris slapped his teacher’s hand away. Something didn’t seem right, Chris thought to himself. This didn’t seem to be the same King Lewy he remembered meeting in the bookstore on his first day in the magical realm. This King Lewy was stronger and emitted a strange sort of vibration.

Chris saw a sudden flash of images pass before his eyes as he looked at the changed king. He saw a candlelit room, an assassin, and the flash of a shimmering blade flying across the room into a hand that was not supposed to be able to use magic! Then he saw rose blossoms budding and growing.

Just as the roses began to sway and interact with one another, the king called out to Chris from the middle of the stadium, knocking him back into reality.

Yes, my good man, the king invited. What is it I can do for you? Come here and talk to me.

Chris lifted into the air, sailed into the middle of the stadium, and touched down next to Lewy.

What’s your name? Lewy asked.

Don’t you recognize me? Chris asked, with his voice now amplified as well.

Should I? Lewy chuckled.

I’m Chris Hailey. You met me last year at this time.

Lewy’s eyes widened, and a grin crossed his face. "It’s the Chosen One!" he shouted, voice still amplified. The crowd let out an uncomfortable and awkward round of applause that was barely audible in the center of the stadium.

Then, after a few moments, a small old woman stood up and shouted, Get outta here! We don’t need you anymore!

Yeah! Thanks for nothing! another crowd member joined in.

Suddenly, the entire audience was on their feet, shouting insults and jeers. Some Chosen One you turned out to be!

Lewy smiled at the comments and at the look on Chris’s face. The young adolescent looked like someone had punched him in the gut. "I’m sorry, but I’ve already completed your job for you, Chris. But no worry, there’s no need to thank me!"

The crowd laughed and cheered again.

Chris scowled at the king. "I had no intentions of thanking you, your majesty." The crowd stepped back slightly. All eyes were on the king, waiting for his reaction. Their new king, although fair, was not normally lenient on such behavior. No one was allowed to talk disrespectfully to the king! He had imprisoned others for less!

"Tell me, Lewy, Chris continued, how did you learn to fight well enough to take over an entire country of magicians?"

Lewy put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and said, I was taught by the best, and I learned the best. Then he looked scornfully