The Seals Of Altior 2 E-Book

Gabriele Pratesi

• Herausgeber: Tektime
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 217

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

The Carousel of Hombros is the second chapter in the fantasy series 'The Kingdom of Wizards - The Seals of Altior'. It is a book that encompasses simplicity of description and liveliness of action. A tale that immerses the reader, in a medieval fantasy world where battles, magic and spells are the protagonists.

The spell has been dissolved.
The magical barrier at the border of the kingdom of Ignis has fallen. The ruins of Arx Lupus are the scene of a new and terrible battle in which lies the hope of ending the advancement of the orcs.
Young Baltdeon is on his way to the city of Milites, amid regrets, remorse and memories. His adventure leads him to cross paths with a priest of the temple of Rho.
The capital is besieged by an army of ten thousand mercenaries, and while tension rises among the population and a revolt breaks out, Prince Garon makes the difficult decision to invoke the Carousel of Hombros, to avoid a siege that would drive his people to starvation.
General Fortdar manages to reach Hombros and decides to participate in the Carousel, in the hope of winning and saving the city from conquest. The recruit Vlad, wants to retrieve his diary at all costs, but discovers he has a telepathic link with the sorcerer and chooses to join him, with the aim of finding the Grimoire. Battles, spells, occult sorceries, betrayals, magic, kingdoms and empires, castles, fortresses, towns and villages are the outline of a dangerous and eventful course.

Leseprobe

Gabriele Pratesi

The Seals of Altior 2

The Carrousel of Hombros

Translated by: Ian King

© 2019 - Gabriele Pratesi

Knowing when to surrender

is the virtue of the wise

and of cowards.

Introduction:

A warm and affectionate greeting to all readers who have chosen to follow the fantastic adventures of the Kingdom of Wizards.

The second chapter is entitled "The Carrousel of Hombros", and continues the adventure of the protagonists, met in the previous chapter.

A world where heroes and evil characters with powers, thirsty for ambition and success. Knights-errant, invincible warriors, wizards and sorcerers. A world where there are terrifying and wonderful creatures: colourful, rich and flourishing landscapes and arid cold lands in which it is impossible to survive.

There are many ways to start an adventurous journey that could lead to victory, or defeat; to find or lose the desired object.

A world where fate, fortune and gods often write the history of heroes and their antagonists.

Break out the monotony of everyday routine, and fly within your mind wherever there is no boredom.

This is the purpose of the Kingdom of Wizards, to wrap the reader with the cloak of curiosity of the imagination, or just for sitting on the couch, enjoying it.

“I decided to write the adventures of these supernatural characters in black and white, because I don't have the capacity to explain it to you, but it's like they are alive in my head. After reading some fantasy novels, watching movies and TV series, they would emerge in my thoughts. Often I'm not satisfied with how other authors' stories end, so I decided to write what I imagine, and give the ending how I want it to be. It wasn't easy to interpret the words of my imagination, but I enjoyed it a lot.

I then discovered the possibilities of self-publication and after getting myself informed, I decided to try this path of sharing my story with the audience.

And so The Carrousel of Hombros is the second chapter in the saga, of The Seals of Altior.

The Seals of Altior 1 - The Key to Magic

The Seals of Altior 2 - The Carrousel of Hombros

Seals of the Altior 3 - The Altiors

Seals of the Altior 4 - The Eternal Forest

The Seals of Altior 5 - The Grimoire

I recommend reading for an audience over 13 years of age as there are descriptions of battles and some scenes that can be gory.

The author:

Gabriele Pratesi was born in Arezzo, in 1985.

He graduated with the title of electrical engineer and works in an automation company.

He volunteered as an emergency animator at the Don Bosco Salesian Oratory, for over ten years.

To begin with, he is an amateur writer and has chosen the path of self-publication. The desire to start writing came by chance from reading some novels and watching television series and being inspired by them; he was not satisfied with the plots, often repetitive and obvious, nor the endings.

He is passionate about the genre of fantasy, adventure, science fiction and everything that stimulates the purest human emotions linked to imaginary epic, chivalrous universes, far from our normal life.

This is inspired by the great literary masterpieces such as: "The Lord of the Rings"; "The Hobbit"; "Harry Potter"; "The Knight of Eron" and by the classic and epic poems; so he is looking for a different story, original with an unexpected ending and therefore not obvious nor trivial, trusting in his characters and their adventures.

Background: Prince Garon's speech

“I still remember very well the day I was proclaimed Prince of Hombros. I remember that at that time there was a great famine, which put a strain on the entire population and institutions. The Prince in charge was killed, during an armed revolt.

After so many years, I have decided that today is the day of my confession.

You counsellors do not know the whole truth, you do not know what happened and what I had to do, to come to power.

You must know it today, because today we are in danger; we have three armies threatening our walls. Three armies that could wipe out our whole history, our society, our civilisation.

In these days, the magician of the circle of fire, Graenditas Silverskin, my very great and old friend, has escaped. Twenty years ago I was forced to put him under arrest for his betrayal of Admiral Latyér Gron Vier. The truth is that he did not only commit that terrible crime; he killed his own son. This happened a few months before the military expedition to the island of Auris. The penalty for treason and murder was death; but I signed a decree for life imprisonment, which was never accepted by the Admiral. He left for the Three Seas War, and we all know how that ended.

My friendship with the magician goes back to the time of the first rebellions. It is known to all of you that I come from a peasant family and it is known to you that at that time, the government preferred to let the poor people starve, exploiting their work in the fields to the maximum, depriving them of all crops and livestock. The magician helped me and my family to survive on several occasions.

When the revolt broke out within the walls, I was there, standing against the prince and his government. The first revolt was a disaster. The rioters only reached the third ring and the resulting retaliation was severe. I was saved by hiding in the woods, but my parents were killed.

All property was requisitioned by the government and the militia was in charge of guarding the land.

I needed help to avenge my family and change history. I decided to live with the wizard, who taught me literature, science, history, economics and other important disciplines that would serve my purpose. He trained me in combat and taught me some magical tricks. Over the next few months the rebellions flared up again; the rebels were more cunning this time and decided to isolate the city. Robberies and ambushes on the merchant caravans prevented supplies from the countryside. They recaptured the land plots and blocked all food supplies to the city.

The government decided to meet with the rebels to try and reach an agreement. No agreement was reached and the prince was assassinated.

As you know, thanks to the transcripts of the chronicles of those days the culprit was never found and I assure you that I would have loved to have been that culprit, but I have never killed anyone in my life, and I don't think I would be capable of it.

Counsellors, this is not the only secret I carry with me. All these years you have known me and considered me a coward, insecure, and maybe even stupid. You were right to consider me so; indeed I was and still am, but it is only fair to show you, how in the past I managed to win the Tournament of Princes, in Hombros and as a result, my rise to power.”

Prince Garon reached into the pocket of his robes and presented the counsellors with a necklace. It was a fine-linked, gilded chain to which was tied a polygonal pendant. It was citrine quartz, as bright yellow as the sun on a clear day. Garon put it on, sliding the chain under the link. The pendant glowed, astonishing the counsellors. For a brief, almost imperceptible instant, the prince was enveloped in a faint yellow flame. His face became serious, the look that until a few moments before, belonged to an insecure and weak person, now was transformed, making that person proud, self-confident, strong and determined. The new prince stared into the eyes of all the counsellors and sensed a fear in them that they had never felt before.

"You may wonder what sense this confession of mine makes," he said, imagining the thoughts of his advisors.

"For the first time, it is right that the prince should make the most important decision. I am finally ready to take my responsibilities as a prince and above all, as a man." As he said this, his intense gaze became one to convince all his advisors to trust him, for what would be the first and last decision made.

"Where is Counsellor Carosir? Why isn't he here?" the dubious prince asked, noticing his absence.

Table of Contents

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter I

No mercy

-2-

Dawn had risen over the still smouldering rubble of what could only be remembered, as the safest and strongest military garrison in the entire principality of Hombros.

After the death of Goldeon Rockwell, his deputy was immediately appointed captain and sent in command of an army of two thousand paladin knights, to Arx Lupus to put a definitive end to the history of the orcs.

Along the great road, connecting the village of Othis and the garrison, the army had seen smoke coming from the centre of the forest, at the border of where the rebel camp was located. The captain commanded them to leave it and go on to the more important mission. He needed all hands. A scout had told him a short time before that the village had burned down, and there was no point in wasting time, resources and soldiers to check for survivors.

"We could have saved someone if we had left earlier. There is little point now in thinking about what could have been, if..."

When the army reached the plain adjacent to the outpost, the captain's heart struggled to continue with its next beat. Everything was completely razed to the ground. The fortress still smouldered, it no longer had walls. The watch towers were rubble and ash. Even the grounds had been burnt black. Not a single green leaf remained on the entire plain and the air was thick with smoke, unbreathable.

In front of them, lined up and ready with their weapons in hand, were the orcs. An army, according to the estimation of an attendant, of at least three thousand foot soldiers.

The captain looked up in the direction of the Ignis pass.

"We have no hope of surviving," he thought to himself, feigning a confidence that had already fled and hidden miles away from that lifeless, futureless place.

The two thousand horses were also feeling the tension and began to become skittish. The riders comforted them by stroking their muzzles and whispering words of encouragement.

"Sir, there will be at least eight thousand orcs, huge orcs, armed with spears, crossbows, bows and axes the size of two bastards," the steward commented, after seeing the rest of the enemies cross the pass.

The captain knew well that the battle did not promise a favourable outcome, but he knew even better that beyond them was the capital, with hundreds of thousands of inhabitants unable to defend themselves, with women and children who would not survive a war of that magnitude.

"We cannot retreat." replied the captain.

"We are two thousand knights with armoured horses, they are only infantrymen." Said the captain again.

The two knights looked into each other's faces, and a knowing, stained smile, anticipated what would be the most difficult decision the captain would have to make.

The enemy drums began to mark the time, and the march of the army from the pass, down into the valley. The clear sky allowed a good view of the entire battlefield. To the north-west, the ruins of the fortress had formed a cave in the rock face on which it was built. The wasteland had become scorched earth, without a single flower sprouting from the ground. The path leading to the border with Ignis, was guarded by the orc army which, as inexorable slow as the flow of a great river, ran into the valley.

To the east, the entrance to the forest was visible. All the dwellings had collapsed and were now resting in piles of embers and debris. In the front ranks of the Hombrosian army, was bewilderment at the sight of this desolation. This was obvious on the face of every paladin. Some wondered if it was even worth reconquering this destroyed and annihilated land.

The captain began a speech to his men, "Knights of Hombros. Before us lies misery, desolation, destruction and death; this is the scenario we see today. This is the scenario we will see tomorrow, if we do not fight today."

The captain walked the length of the front row as he continued his speech.

"We are the Paladin Knights of Hombros. We are the elite of all the armies on the continent.

We train from childhood to become what we are today." He also made his way to the rear, to encourage all his men.

"Today, we fight to defend the future of our children, our families and all the people of Hombros. This is the first time in many years that we can truly prove our worth." Before concluding his speech he had the lieutenants grouped in the front row.

"Today, the great Sequoia of Hombros will flourish. Today we fulfil our oath, our loyalty is our strength."

The horses reared up, neighing and snorting. The drums were overpowered and yet, they had lost their intimidating beat, although they did not cease to roll and mark time. The captain encouraged his lieutenants to keep hope alive and to make the most of the cavalry's power. The forces were all in place.

Now ten thousand orcs lined up, threatening and intimidating against a mere two thousand knights, who were trying hard not to show any sign of weakness. Their strategy had to be planned in a short time. Each side waited for the opponent's first move.

While the waiting was tearing their minds apart, the knights were fastening their lances to the flanks of their horses, so that they too would be well armed and ready to do as much damage as they could. It soon made no sense for the captain to wait any longer.

"Crossbows!" he shouted.

The knights loaded their crossbows and aimed them at the enemy front lines.

"No use wasting time. The paladins of Hombros always attack first... RELEASE!" the order was given. The battle had begun.

Two thousand darts whizzed past the enemy front lines, which was not too far enough away for them to escape the first wave of darts. Hundreds of orcs were wounded. Some fell to the ground on impact.

The orc army advanced, trampling over their own wounded and dead.

The captain raised his sword to the sky. He looked directly at the orc generals, who had seen hundreds of their own soldiers fall from the rear, near the pass.

"CHARGE!!!" the captain ordered, shouting with all his might to give his knights courage.

The plan of attack hung in the balance, with the power of the cavalry. The lines stretched out to cover a larger area of attack, as if to surround the opponent. The horses, armoured and with spears levelled, crashed into the advancing orcs, and there was nothing to save them from the brunt of the blow. The captain and the lieutenants were in the lead and brought down dozens and dozens of enemies under the weight of their horses.

After eliminating the front lines, the horses stopped before a wall of orcs, armed with large shields and pikes. The charge was brutal, killing many horses and unhorsing the riders who were also killed and wounded. The first part of the battle, resulted in an extermination of the occupying army's infantrymen. The strategy of frontal attack was decisive and its effect fruitful. The opposing army was halved with minimal losses in the ranks of the Paladins.

The battle was now fought on the ground, and the horses that had survived the impact, left the battlefield, fleeing to safety. Sword blows rang out across the plateau, striking against the irons of axes and shields.

The screams of pain and battle cries, echoed from both sides in their ears. This was the sad melody that accompanied the falling and shattering of lifeless bodies.

The losses were weakening the Hombros' army, which was slowly becoming surrounded by enemy reinforcements. More, were surely and steadily coming down the hill.

The lieutenants and the captain had to sought out and find ways to extricate themselves from the fight and to isolated themselves from the skirmish. They stepped back and let their soldiers go forward. They all looked at each other with complicity. They drew a stone from their pockets. Each of them had a stone of a different colour, but these were not just stones. They were engraved with special characters. They were not letters, but were more like symbols. A squad of paladins shielded their commanders to give them time to activate, which in magical terms, were called Runes. They could be precious stones or minerals that were used as energy catalysts, based on their colour and consistency.

Runes were powerful and very expensive magical artifacts. Throughout the known world, very few alchemists were able to combine stone with magic. They were long processes and there was no room for error. Many stones and minerals were rare to find in nature. The paladins had never before used runes in battle. However, the moment demanded it.

Outnumbered and outgunned by the enemy, they were forced to use magic. The captain knew that the orcs were capable of using them as well, and the order to proceed was not long in coming. The activation of the runes was not immediate. The symbols engraved in them were the formula for activating them. The three officers began to shake the stone in the air with movements similar to a dance. The gestures and movements were different, as was the colours of the runes.

They were runes of empowerment. Strength, vigour, speed.

""  The captain spoke the engraved word, waved it in the air as if summoned by ritual, and the rune glowed red.

"!" An attendant spoke the engraved word, waved it in the air as required by the rite and the rune lit up green.

"!" Another attendant spoke the word engraved in his rune, which lit up yellow after waving it in the air, as required by the activation rite.

When the activation rite was complete, a coloured halo burst from every stone and poured over the valley where the battle raged. All the paladins who were fighting were enveloped in it.

The wounded felt even the tiniest and most superficial wounds heal, ceasing to bleed and a new energy began flowing through them. Magic did not help those who were near death or already fallen in battle, against death there is no magic.

The magical energy released by the runes lifted the fortunes of the fight. The orcs were beginning to feel the blow. The paladins, once again led by the captain and his lieutenants, who were once again running in the front row, executed every blow with more power, energy and speed. The effect of the runic magic would not last much longer, but it would be enough to bring the whole fight into an advantageous situation.

The orcs in the rear began to worry. The drums stopped beating and their musicians were forced to take up arms. Many began to look towards the pass, hoping for the order to retreat.

"So, these orcs do feel fear too. They are not creatures immune to pain and emotion," the captain commented as he saw the frightened faces of his opponents.

The lieutenant next to him, confirmed the captain's words. He too had noticed that the enemy's sights were beginning to lose confidence and tenacity.

"Send them back to IGNIS!" the captain shouted forcefully.

The cries of hope invaded the entire war arena. Slashes, hits and lunges; the cavalry advanced, the worried enemy lines retreated, showing weakness. The captain began to see the blue sky behind those grey–black, turbulent clouds. But the hope of such a quick victory was soon extinguished.

The pass turned black. The three orc wizards were clad in a violet, then red, then yellow light. From the highest point, they sought the gaze of the captain of the paladins.

They had watched the whole battle unfold and were shocked by the willpower of the paladins. They spoke to each other in the ancient–elvish language of Svart Skog. Every moment they spent arguing, reduced the distance between them and the paladins who would soon be joining them.

Magic was the last resort they had left; to ensure that their efforts to achieve victory were not in vain, they decided to draw on all the magical resources at their disposal. They had learned nothing.

A hundred years earlier, they had used powerful, dark and ancient magic against the fire wizards, magic that they paid a heavy price for and yet they persisted in their greatest mistake. They were using magic for evil and selfish purposes, and what they had been turned into, was visible and living proof of this. A few moments after the completion of the ritual, the fighting stopped.

Paladins and orcs were drawn to a sky, covered in black clouds within which swelled bolts of fire. Soft, grey ash fell slowly like snow onto the battlefield, covering the ground and resting on the heads of the frightened and disbelieving soldiers, none of whom had time to realise what was happening. Rains of fire fell from those magical clouds. Flaming drops like volcanic lava fell on the bodies of the orcs and the armour of the paladins, causing severe burns.

The battlefield began to blaze with flames that left no way out. The two sides seemed to want to work together, to save themselves from the terrifying fate that would deprive them of a dignified and glorious death on the battlefield. A magic so powerful that it killed paladins and orcs alike, without mercy. The captain was hit by several glowing drops but managed to avoid serious burns. He ran to a young man in the rear.

"Let's protect the relay. He must run to Hombros to report," the captain ordered, with some veterans in tow.

The unarmoured orcs began to crumble to the ground, burning; their flesh was full of sores that had already torn through the deepest layers of their skin.

In the rear, the captain recognised the quick runner. He was a young boy, short, yet not particularly strong. He was protecting himself with two shields that were slowly losing their sheltering power. The fiery drops were constantly splashing violently, and even the captain was forced to endure the pain to complete what seemed to be an impossible mission. There were four of them shielding the boy with their bodies.

"You must return to Hombros and report. Hide yourself. Do not be found... and go straight to Prince Garon. Speak only to him." the captain ordered as his fire-soaked skin was tearing him apart with pain.

He struggled to pick up his rune, the rune of vigour, and handed it to the young man. One of the veterans collapsed to the ground, hitting the captain.

The boy started to run and managed to climb over a few bodies near the border of fire. His right arm was badly wound, yet enduring the pain, he threw himself against the flames that separated him from the forest.

Behind him, the captain gave in and let go, showing a proud and encouraging face, for the young man who now had a vital mission.

The battlefield was extinguished as the rain of fire ceased. Devastation and death were companions in that desolate scene. The lifeless bodies of paladins and orcs were pilling up on top of each other, like allied victims, defeated by an uncontrollable power.

The orc wizards had not noticed the couriers escape, nor did they imagine that he had stayed nearby to spy on what was about to happen.

The three sorcerers, with a death glare, ordered a group of orcs who had remained in their defence, to fetch the amethyst powder; all of it that was available. The three went down into the valley and simply invoked a spell that made all the lifeless bodies levitate lightly. Men, and orcs alike without distinction. They grouped them as close together as possible, creating mountains of corpses.

The remaining group of orcs, submissively and obediently sprinkled the twelve thousand corpses with all the available amethyst dust, but within them, a feeling of hatred towards their master commanders arose.

The sorcerers started the soul-awakening ritual, which was longer and more tiring than usual, and they were pleased with its success. Twelve thousand souls were awakened, their lifeless bodies left orbiting the sky in luminous trails. The spell was incredibly powerful and different from the one used for small groups, or single victims. The three wizards sat down to rest, exhausted, panting. They waited a long time for the newly awakened orcs to join them.

The young courier boy, had found shelter under the bark of a large bush with a broken trunk. Wrapped in foliage, he had seen the whole ritual. He desperately searched within his saddlebag for a cure for his burnt arm. He had some aloe leaves with him and made a paste out of them, sprinkling it on the wounds. The boy was fatigued and did not yet feel ready for the journey to Hombros. He remained hidden and fell asleep.