Twisted by Hate: A Tale from the Myst City Chronicles

By Luke Baker

Return to the mystifying land of Turbulus. The heroes of The Golden Sun continue on their quest to save the land from The Demon Lords. With Myst City left defenceless and an evil army on the horizon, how long will the city stand?
New evils surface as Turbulus itself braces for an all-out war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499032123

Luke Baker

I believe everyone has something to share with the world. My passion is writing, and I hope to broadcast it. I have always been fascinated by history, folklore, mythology, and the supernatural and loved weaving it all together. A lot of authors have inspired me in my writing, ancient and modern, scholarly and popular. I am an English-born Canadian citizen living in Toronto. I love soaking in the urban culture and the indie scene when I’m not daydreaming in my college lectures. I hope I can share my imaginary world with as many readers as possible.

Book preview

cover.jpg

Copyright © 2014 by Luke Baker.

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4990-3211-6

eBook 978-1-4990-3212-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/30/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

633762

Contents

Previously in… The Contracted Soul: a Tale from the Myst City Chronicles

THE MYST CHRONICLES II

PART1: DARK GATHERING

One Dusk in a village north of Myst City

Two Micah and Vlad, the western area of The Dead Lands

Three Gladius and Fletcher, Gluttony’s Fortress, the golden plains

Four Micah and Vlad, Lust’s Temple, The Dead Lands

Five Gladius and Fletcher, Gluttony’s Fortress, the Golden Plains

Six Robyn and Cleo, the Lava Fields

Seven Gladius and Fletcher, Gluttony’s Keep, the Golden Plains

Eight Gladius, mysterious grotto

Nine Marin, King’s auditorium, Sunrise City

Ten Dusk, village north of Myst City

Eleven Micah, Lust’s Temple, the Dead lands

Twelve Gladius, Gluttony’s Fortress

Thirteen Ruins of the old Capital, the Dead lands

Fourteen Road to Myst City

Fifteen Astralode, Barricades around Myst City

Sixteen The Temple of the Damned, The Dead lands

Seventeen Micah, the Dead lands

Eighteen The Temple of the Damned, The Dead lands

Nineteen Marin, Sunrise City

Twenty Micah, Ferus Town Approach

Twenty One Marin, Sunrise City

Twenty Two Robyn and Cleo, the Dead lands

Twenty Three Fletcher, Gluttony’s Keep, The Golden Plains

Twenty Four Marin, Sunrise City

Twenty Five Entrance to Myst City

Twenty Six Marin, Sunrise City

Twenty Seven Marin, Sunrise City

Twenty Eight Robyn and Cleo, Ferus Town

Twenty Nine Just outside of Myst City

Thirty Marin, Sunrise City

Thirty One Robyn and Cleo, Ferus Town

Thirty Two Marin, Sunrise City

Thirty Three Gladius and Fletcher, Squalor Mire

Thirty Four The Sewers, Myst City

Epilogue Outside of Greed’s fortress, The Dead Lands

THE MYST CHRONICLES II

PART II: FATE SEALED IN FLAME

One Umbra, Mysterious Doorway

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

Dedicated to Vince P. Sarah D. and those who supported me.

Also, Dante Alighieri for his unrivalled Divine Comedy

Previously in…

The Contracted Soul: a Tale from the Myst City Chronicles

In the bone-littered chamber of Pride’s camp Umbra stood impatiently, pacing around a demon-summoning circle. The monstrous Demon Lord, Pride lay petrified in stone, destroyed by Umbra himself.

Show yourself! he demanded. Marin lay lifeless at his feet.

The array finally lit up, a plume of smoke encircled the room like a shark stalking its prey. It forming itself, dissipating to reveal a familiar figure.

The devious contract demon, Belphagor stood there once more, arms crossed, towering over Umbra. His hulking body crackled with glowing embers.

You again? the demon chuckled, gazing directly into Umbra’s eyes. Are you here to make another deal with me? the demon inquired snidely.

No games, no tricks. I want you to return Marin to life. I pledge my soul to you right now, no waiting time, right now, Umbra stared intensely at the demon.

The demon raised an eyebrow and exhaled a wave of sulfurous breath. Your soul? You’ve already given me that. I want something… more substantial, a devilish grin lit up his shadowed face.

Umbra swallowed hard, a bead of sweat ran down his cheek. What else can I offer? he inquired nervously. His time was running out, Marin would be beyond a normal resurrection soon.

Everything, the demon grinned through pointed teeth.

Then I want to know you haven’t cheated me. I want to see with my own eyes that she’s okay, Umbra declared, then I’ll hold up my end.

Fine, the demon snorted, his eyes flashed red. He faded away in a wisp of smoke leaving echoing laughter in his wake.

Marin stirred and rolled over as if waking from a deep sleep. The color had returned to her face, her life restored.

Are you okay? Umbra inquired softly. He offered his hand, helping her to her feet.

A tear rolled down his face.

A loving smile colored his expression. He looked longingly at Marin.

Umbra, what’s wrong? Why are you crying? she inquired, embracing him tightly.

Everything will be okay, Marin. I have given you the greatest gift—a second chance, Umbra whispered in her ear, drawing back with a solemn expression, tears glistening in his eyes.

I’ll miss you, he whispered softly. Marin wiped a tear from his glossy eyes. His face was darkened in a deep sadness.

His body faded, dissipating into the wind like dust in a breeze, every inch of him fading away.

Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art

Meanwhile,

Gladius and Fletcher watched from the shadows in the courtyard of Demon Lord, Gluttony’s keep.

A group of grotesque guards passed by dragging a battered, wheezing villager behind them in chains.

The two heroes recognized the woman immediately. She was the woman they found hiding in the nearby village.

We have to do something, Fletcher whispered, raising his taut bow. Gladius pushed it down.

We can’t give ourselves away, Gladius replied. He pointed out the numerous guards patrolling above them.

We need to know what we’re dealing with here. A Demon Lord should not be taken lightly, Fletcher insisted.

We’ll contact Astralode.

He held the scrying orb in front of him and concentrated. Astralode, we need your help, can you hear me? he spoke into the orb.

You called me, Heroes? Astralode replied through the magic of the orb.

What can you tell us about the Demon Lord, Gluttony? Gladius inquired cutting straight to the chase.

Without looking up from his book, Astralode recited the passage. According to lore, Gluttony uses his spit to send his victims into a nightmarish sleep while he feeds off their spirit.

Go on, Gladius urged.

To subdue the beast, you must turn his powers against him. Once he is damaged by that or intense sorcery his victim’s spirits are returned, his grey eyes continued to scan the passage.

How do we do that? Gladius inquired impatiently.

Astralode flicked though the pages, stopping at a useful passage. He is bulky and slow, but his power is immense, he concluded. Good luck heroes! For Myst City! Astralode saluted.

For Myst City! the heroes replied. The orb returned to a clear form once the light faded from it.

So what’s the plan? inquired Fletcher.

Simple, we storm the place. I use my shield to defend from Gluttony’s spit and we simply destroy him, Gladius explained.

Simple… Fletcher groaned pessimistically.

Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art

Meanwhile far north,

A shadowy steed raced through the eerie stillness of The Dead Lands kicking up dust and bones behind it.

The sorcerer swordsman Micah with the vampire Vlad clung tightly to the dark stallion.

It shouldn’t be much further, we’re covering a lot of ground on this thing, Vlad called out loudly over the rushing wind.

Now this demon, can she really make me stronger than Umbra? Micah questioned, his white-blonde hair rustled in the wind.

We have to be prepared to strike up a deal, Vlad explained.

I know exactly what to offer her! You won’t get away with turning my sister, Vlad. Micah grinned.

A massive storm-cloud gathered overhead when they neared Lust’s temple. A light mist obscured their view as they galloped blindly onwards.

Finally after a few minutes of blind riding the mist parted and a hulking temple came into view. Like everything else in this desolate wasteland it was a grey ruin.

Cracked stone columns and menacing stone figures of twisted beasts lined the walls. It was not as lavish as you’d expect from the Demon Lord of Lust.

The air was stale and heavy, it pulsed slowly as if alive. The door to this ruinous temple seemed to emanate an unnatural coldness.

The dusty wasteland seemed to stir to acknowledge the new visitors. As they neared the temple the hairs on the back of Micah’s neck stood up straight, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

We’re here, Vlad whispered cryptically.

Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art                      Skull - Clip-art

The Myst chronicles II

Part1:

Dark Gathering

By Luke Baker

One

Dusk in a village north of Myst City

The sun had gradually retreated over the horizon. The villagers of Birchwood town strolled merrily around the market square while the merchants closed their stands. The straw roofs rustled in the wind as the mild breeze swept by.

Pierre, a young man and father of a small family strolled briskly to gather water from the town’s well. He carried an old wooden bucket in his hand.

However, today he had an uneasy feeling as he neared the oil lantern hanging by the well. The market was empty now and the moon was peering over the horizon. The cold, damp feeling stiffened the hairs on the back of his neck.

Was this just a Chill? He wondered, attaching the bucket to the pulley system of the well. The feeling still emanated as he wound the crank, lowering the bucket into the darkness below.

Hmm, this is weird, he muttered. The water level was much lower today as he continually felt the tension in the crank. Finally, he was relieved to hear a splash. He cranked the bucket up slowly, feeling the weight of the water he had gathered. The bucket came into view, a mysterious sparkle flickered from inside.

The creeping sensation was overwhelming now. It pulsed like heavy breathing, growing more intense as the bucket drew closer.

Pierre hoisted the water-laden pail out and peered curiously into it. A peculiar dark object glinted from the bottom. When he reached in to extract the dark object an intense cold, empty feeling overwhelmed him.

It was a blackened, shiny box, small enough to fit in one’s hand. Pierre looked it over curiously. All of a sudden the surrounding area went silent. No crickets chirped, no owls hooted, it was as silent as a tomb.

A sturdy lock kept the box sealed. Strange etched symbols covered it. Pierre rolled the box around in his hand. In an entranced state he returned home, a blank expression on his face. He even left the pail behind.

He arrived home to the soothing sounds of his wife and young daughter snoozing peacefully. The crackling of the log fireplace warmed him as it consumed the wood.

Pierre placed the curious, glinting box on the mantle-piece above the fireplace and turned to walk away.

Freedom! hissed a voice startling Pierre. The box once again emitted a breath of cold dread. Pierre stared dumbfounded at the old relic.

Back in Wrath’s tower, the Demon Lord stirred. Suddenly he was hit by a rush of realization and shot to his feet.

Mistress! Wrath exclaimed. He felt her presence