Volcifer's Child: The Black Craft Saga

By Jon Dottingly

Few individuals have achieved more fame in our universe than the woman known as Zhara.

As a master of both the sword and the stage, no other person has been able to bring the spectacle of war into living rooms from one galaxy to the next in such an unforgettable way. Whether she's on the silver screen or between silken sheets, Zhara's story isn't one to be missed.

Centuries ago, the Kingdoms of Listra and Lyconia united in the face of an unbeatable foe.

Heiress to the Twin Kingdom's most bitter enemy, Zhara takes the stage as the greatest hope of survival for both the Stag and for the realm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Obricon Adventures, LLC
• Release date: Oct 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201324636

Jon Dottingly

WHEN HE IS NOT WRITING, Jon Dottingly enjoys photography, music, travel, spending time with friends and family, and playing with his trusty Vizsla, Otis. OTHER WORKS BY JON DOTTINGLY SLICES OF MIDNIGHT LYCONIA: CRADLE OF KINGS CROW AND CHALICE VOLCIFER’S CHILD OF THE BLOOD THE BLACK CRAFT SAGA

Book preview

Chapter 1

The ghosts who dwelled within Amandi Talbro's family crypt were a famous lot. Every resident of the Province of Aginor considered the subterranean tomb, which was the final resting place of one of the Guild of the Scarlet Stag's most influential founders, to be one of the most haunted places in the entire Kingdom of Malakanth. Located far below the Talbro family's ancestral estate, which stood on a high hill that overlooked the heart of the city of Skorfu, the crypt and its many specters frequented the nightmares of the inhabitants of the provincial capital.

In life, Madame Talbro had worked tirelessly to bring enlightenment to the kingdom by teaching others how to access the ways of magic through tapping into the power of the human soul. In death, however, the name Amandi Talbro had become a byword for horror. No one made the descent into her family's crypt alone, and no one reemerged unchanged. Ever. Paying your respects to Amandi came at a price. This price was part of the initiation process for all newly inducted members of the Guild of the Scarlet Stag. For three of the Guild's inductees, the bill was set to come due this night.

Now remember, no matter what happens down there, don't stray from the group, said Adriel Ronegar, the senior member of the Stag to whom the duty had fallen to guide these three initiates into the crypt of the Talbros.

Adriel worked directly under the Stag's leader, Professor Thaddeus Bancroft, who was also a member of the High Council of Aginor, the twelve-member board of wizards who oversaw how magic could be practiced legally within the Kingdom of Malakanth. In addition, Adriel served as an educator and a historian, specializing in the life and times of the founders and initial members of the Stag, including Count Valentin Aginor, Queen Lessia the Bold, and Amandi Talbro. As such, he had ventured into the crypt more than any other person alive, all to learn as much as he could about one of the Guild's most esteemed historical figures. Tonight would mark his seventeenth trip.

What exactly is going to happen down there? asked Val Eggers, the youngest member of Adriel's party of new initiates. Val had turned sixteen years old only days before.

I can't say for sure. Adriel shrugged. It's different every time.

Is it ever not horrifying? asked the second member of the group, Hannah Haver. The final member of their party, another young woman, had not yet arrived.

Adriel thought about Hannah's question for a moment. No, he concluded. It's always horrifying. Every damn time.

Both Val and Hannah laughed, but it was the sort of laugh that a person does to bolster one's nerves on the eve of danger or while teetering on the edge of the unknown. Adriel had seen such behavior before, of course. In fact, he had made similar attempts to bolster his own bravado with jokes and wisecracks before taking his own first step into the crypt. That initial descent had occurred over a decade ago, and even though tonight would mark his seventeenth visit, he still got the jitters.

Has anyone ever died down there? asked Val, trying to make the question sound offhand and nonchalant. He failed miserably.

Adriel's first thought was to say something reassuring to allay Val's obvious fears, as would be natural for most individuals in his position. But Adriel relented. Within the Guild, truth held more value than any other virtue. Of course, there was a time and place for niceties, but Scarlet Stag members were bound by their oaths to cut through such fluff when it got in the way of the pursuit of enlightenment and new discoveries. Initiates had to learn this lesson. They had to live by it, and, if necessary, they had to die by it.

Yes, said Adriel solemnly. There are those who have died down there.

The initiates' eyes grew wide. What's down there? asked Hannah. What manner of ghost can kill a person?

Adriel shook his head. The ghosts have never killed anyone. It's the fear that does them in. It's always the fear.

Oh, dear, said Hannah, looking a little panicked.

I know, I know. It's unfortunate. But that's not going to happen to any of us tonight, said Adriel, and he spoke as if his words were a fact.

And why not? asked Val.

Because we are going down there with a purpose, that's why. We have a job to do. Through the years, I have discovered that fear and nervousness fade into the background when concentrating on one's job. The fear and nervousness are still there, mind you, But it prevents one from going mad, or worse.

And what is our job exactly? asked Hannah.

Down below, near Madame Talbro's tomb, there are five frescos, said Adriel, falling into the academic parlance he found most comfortable when instructing others, especially students of this age. "Each of these frescos has a name. In time, I will require you to know the names of each of them, But such details aren't important right now. This evening, it is essential for you to understand that these frescos change with each visit, sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. I've paid Madame Talbro many visits, and I've discovered differences in each of the frescoes every single time. Our job will be to document how these frescos appear during this particular visit. Each of us, myself included, will attempt to remember five details about each of these five artworks. Try to note elements that are subtle and the least obvious. We will do to try to better understand the many magical processes that are present down below. After this is over, we will discuss all five frescos and record our findings over a tall glass of wine - a glass of wine that is not haunted or terrifying in any way, mind you.

Both Val and Hannah laughed.

So, five for five, said Adriel, who was delighted to see that this well-worn quip still worked to break the tension with his students. Five frescos. Five details. And I don't care how scary it gets down there. Now, let me hear you say it: Five for five.

Five for five, said Val.

Five for five, echoed Hannah, though a tad more sheepish than her male counterpart.

From atop an adjoining staircase came a third and unexpected response. Five for five!

Adriel, Val, and Hannah turned to see the final member of their group bound down the stairs toward the landing, where the locked and bolted door to the crypt was located. She called herself Zhara, this woman, and she was an individual of tremendous intrigue by Adriel's reckoning. For starters, she had not been born in the Province of Aginor. Nor did she hail from either Lyconia or Listra. Zhara was a Kennoxian by birth, as her almond complexion and rich blond hair might suggest. At the age of eleven, she had come to Aginor as a refugee of the Kingdom of Malakanth's most recent war with her homeland. A member of the king's army, Sir Ridgley Adelmar, who also happened to be a member of the Guild of the Scarlet Stag, had adopted Zhara after both of her parents had died during the gruesome and bloody affair. Rather than allowing the bright-minded, bright-eyed youngster to become another casualty of the conflict, he had brought her home to raise as his own. Here in Aginor, under her benefactor's watchful care, Zhara had blossomed into a vibrant and altogether attractive woman.

Sir Ridgley had petitioned Professor Bancroft for years to accept Zhara into the Stag, but he had not consented. Adriel had to assume that this was because of Zhara's heritage. Even though she had spent a good portion of her life in the house of a distinguished lord, she was not a member of Aginor's aristocracy by birth. From its inception, the Guild had existed as an organization of exclusion. The Stag only accepted worthy candidates from the most prestigious families of the kingdom's three provinces. The fact that Zhara was a native of Kennox had precluded her from becoming a member. Recently, however, Professor Bancroft, out of necessity, had relaxed this rule.

The Guild of the Scarlet Stag had lost sway with the High Council of Aginor over the past decade. The Guild's philosophies had fallen out of favor with Aginor's gentry since the latest war with Kennox had reached its conclusion. At this time, men and women who wished to take up the arcane arts now sought to do so in a more traditional manner, one that dated back to the days of ancient Aisen. They became devotees of the god Kanth, channeling power from the kingdom's patron deity rather than drawing it from their own souls. These techniques were more straightforward to master than the more complex practices employed by the Stag. In addition, mages and wizards from the various temples of Kanth throughout the land had played a significant role in defeating Kennox this time around. As such, Kanth's members of the High Council who were devotees of Kanth had seized upon this. Now, they were trying to rid themselves of their rivals from the Stag once and for all. Publicly, these wizards had begun to cast the Guild in a foul light, raising questions about the nature of their rivals' magic. Privately, they had hired assassins to take out their opponents when slander and defamation of character had failed. A recent attempt on Bancroft's life had prompted many changes within the Stag, including longstanding notions concerning its membership criteria.

In addition to Zhara's peculiar lineage, her many accomplishments so far in life demanded great respect. For one, she had completed an apprenticeship under the famous Vivien Lassiter, Aginor's foremost modiste and couturier. Also, Zhara had gained admittance to Majestice - a league of thespians that held the distinction of being the most prestigious company of theatrical players in the entire province. In the past, Zhara had held roles in various productions within the city and was well known among its theatergoers. In short, she was famous. She had a bright future, one utterly independent of what she could accomplish as a member of the Stag. In Adriel's mind, this spoke to Zhara's character. She was willing to subject herself to the authority of others and endure a variety of dangers and hardships for the prospect of becoming a more enlightened individual. Indeed, harnessing the power of one's own soul was not a pursuit to be taken lightly. Yet, deep down, Adriel knew she would go far. She would accomplish great things for the Guild. However, at that moment, she was just an initiate - a tardy one.

You're late again, Zhara, said Adriel, his voice stern. You do remember the lecture I gave you on the importance of punctuality, yes?

Oh, I apologize, said Zhara, her face showing no hint of remorse. I'm sorry I'm late. And I do remember that lecture. It was one of your best so far. But I remember the little talk you gave me on preparedness as well. She patted the satchel she was carrying. Also, she was wearing a jaunty black backpack. All of these items matched the formfitting leather outfit she was wearing. I went over my packing list three times.

Are you planning to camp out down there? asked Val with a chuckle.

If I must, answered Zhara, and her eyes flickered with what Adriel had thought to be an expectation for adventure at the time. But looking back, he should have judged it to be one of unbridled ambition.

What do you have here? asked Adriel, who reached out and touched Zhara's black backpack. Its leather was of the highest quality. It was soft, supple, and thoroughly inviting to feel.

Things I might need down there? said Zhara. I'm not going to be left wanting; I can promise you that. She gave Adriel a scampish smile. I've been waiting for this night for years.

Chapter 2

Unlocking the bolt that secured the big iron door which led down to the Talbro family crypt produced a metallic thud that echoed across the landing on which Adriel, Zhara, Val, and Hannah stood. Adriel braced himself for the eerie squeaking the door's hinges made when he swung it open. However, he was not prepared for the horde of rats that skittered out from the darkness which lay beyond. He had seen many rodents during his visits to Amandi's sarcophagus, but never so many at one time. And these rats seemed scared. They numbered at least thirty, and some were so panic-stricken that their fur had turned white.

Adriel and the Stag's three newest initiates watched the last of the rats scramble out of sight before turning to look at one another. That was when they heard the sinister laugh. Rising up from the depths of the crypt, the laughter carried with it a thick malevolence and an eagerness for what was to come. Again, just like the bevy of rats, Adriel had never encountered such an occurrence upon opening the door. It was enough to cause his spine to shiver.

The laugh caused Hannah to do more than shiver. She rushed over to Adriel and grabbed hold of his arm. There's no way I can go down there, she said, panic-stricken.

Adriel patted Hannah's back. Now, now. It'll be alright. The spirits seem rather feisty this evening, I'll admit. But we must press on, he said, even though he would have preferred to be anywhere in Malakanth rather than looking into the formidable darkness that lay beyond the open doorway. Everything is going to be just fine.

Val looked incredulous. Everything is going to be just fine? He gestured toward the crypt's entrance. Did you not hear that? We should leave. We should do so immediately.

Yes, let's leave, said Hannah, pleading. She squeezed Adriel's arm ever tighter.

No, we cannot leave, said Adriel, who extracted Hannah from his arm. Initiates of the Guild of the Scarlet Stag have paid their respects to Amandi Talbro. This has been the case for the past five centuries. The three of you will do so as well.

But Adriel! said Val, exasperated. That laugh!

Listen, no one ever said this was going to be easy. Being a member of the Stag and learning how we use magic is fraught with peril. To succeed and to live, we must learn to control our fear. Traditionally, the journey to do this begins here, with Amandi. The cauldron seems a bit more stirred up than normal, but I see no real reason not to proceed. If anything, it indicates that there is much for us to learn down there tonight, that's all.

By the looks on their faces, Val and Hannah could have been a pair of doomed criminals who were about to mount the first step of the gallows. Zhara, on the other hand, had taken it all in rather stoically. Who is going first? she asked, her jaunty expression never wavering.

That would be me, answered Adriel. "Loma'alal!"

Per his instructions, an orb of soft white light appeared within the frame of the open doorway.

Good. I'll bring up the rear, love dove. Zhara hitched up her leather pack, so it rested higher up on her back. "I wouldn't want anything sneaking up on us from behind.

Adriel frowned. You know I don't like being called that, he told Zhara.

Being called what? asked Zhara playfully.

You know what.

The slyest of grins appeared on Zhara's face. What's the matter? Can't you say it?

Adriel sighed. Already, Zhara had proven difficult to deal with at times, even if doing so was a delight. Please, don't call me 'love dove' from now on. I would appreciate it, and my wife even more so."

Zhara pursed her lips. Alright then ...sunshine.

Despite their fear, both Val and Hannah chuckled at this. And Adriel, too. And suddenly, he saw the young woman in a different, more sophisticated light. If Zhara felt any trepidation about descending into the crypt, she certainly was not showing it. In fact, her quip might have been designed to alleviate the fear in her fellow initiates. After all, she was a skilled actress. Perhaps she was putting these skills to good use now for the benefit of the guild. And what was in her backpack satchel? They seemed stuffed to be capacity. Whatever it was, Miss Zhara Adelmar was getting more interesting with each passing moment.

Chapter 3

The many specters that inhabited the Talbro family crypt did not begin haunting four members of the Guild of the Scarlet Stag the moment they stepped through the open doorway and entered the underground space. The darkness of the crypt worked well when it came to priming the pump for the frights that would come later. The musty smell of decay played its part, too, as did the hundreds of sarcophagi that housed the dead. Indeed, eeriness abounded here in the upper chambers of the crypt, but as unsettling as its umber could be, Adriel knew it was but a foreshadowing of what lurked further below. Given what he had seen and heard already this evening, he dreaded what they might encounter at the bottom, especially in the area of the frescoes near Amandi's remains.

Five for five, said Adriel, taking a peek back over his shoulder as he and his three charges began their descent to the crypt's middle tier, leaving the safety of the relatively benign upper level. Everyone had done quite well up to this point despite the ominous beginning to this adventure, keeping their fears at bay, or at least not becoming consumed by them. Let me hear each of you repeat it, just one more time.

Five for five, said Zhara, sounding sure and self-confident, even though she was bringing up the rear, which was by far the least desirable position to be in.

Five for five, said Val, attempting to sound as brave and unbothered as Zhara but falling short.

Hannah, however, made no such attempt. Five for five, she managed to say, and the words eroded her facade of calm. Her teeth chattered briefly. Five for five, five for five. She placed a hand upon Adriel's back. Five for five.

The crypt served as the final resting place for the members of over twenty generations of the Talbro family, with ample room for another twenty, or perhaps as many as forty generations more. The crypt was a sprawling complex, and there was only one path in and out. This passage took visitors past every tomb. The graves of Amandi and the other most notable members of the Talbros were located at the very bottom of the crypt, but the layout of this place put forth the idea that there were no insignificant members of this family. Thanks to the clever design, visitors had to look upon each memorial when traveling from one stairwell to the next.

Adriel and the others had just passed the small sarcophagus belonging to the infant son of Dalvin Talbro, who had served on the High Council of Aginor roughly two hundred years before this time, when they heard the first ghost since entering the crypt. It was a caterwaul of a woeful sort, and the sound prompted caused Hannah, who had not taken her hand off Adriel's back, to dig her nails