how anxious I am to have you join me on this new adventure.
If you remember before, I gave you the list of my list of top three author moments. They were:
and #1 - the actual book release.
Well, #3 and #2 have been checked off, which leaves only one more. Here we sit just under two weeks from the official release date, and I can't seem to calm down.
That's right! It's almost time to check off #1 on my list of favorite author moments!
I'll make sure you get all the details as soon as I can.
But in the meantime...
Nearly five years had passed since they walked
away from Merlin’s realm for the last time. Mimgardr had once been a bustling
hub of world culture, but not anymore. Battle had changed that. Now it was
vacant and lifeless, an empty waste filled with sorrow and regret.
Originally the king and master had pledged to
return, thinking that if Mimgardr could be reclaimed then so could the world
order. The realm would be their manifestation of hope. But as with most
well-intentioned oaths, their valor faded in the face of difficulty. Each day
it grew fainter and fainter until Mimgardr was finally left to its tormented demise.
In the end, they never returned, they never rebuilt, and they hardly spoke of
trying.
But why should they? They didn’t need Mimgardr,
and they had dealt with too much sorrow already anyway. Five years ago, a
single flake of mischief had started an avalanche of misfortune which swept
over Mimgardr like an engulfing tide. Why go back? Why go back to the vacant
homes and rundown shops that hardly whispered of their former purpose? Why go
back to the little community beneath the tower’s watchful eye? Why go back to the
once proud castle that now lay in a pile of dusty rubble? The only well-kept
part of Mimgardr was a monumental tomb that proudly rose out of the ground
before the tower. Everything else, from the overgrown shrubs and weed-infested
gardens to the faded light and mossy walls of the sorcerer’s old property, would
only recall the dismal memories of days gone by. So why go back? There was no reason.
Or at least that was the logic Aaron used to
banish any thoughts of Mimgardr when they came nipping at his mind like a
stir-crazy dog. Inside he knew he would have to face Mimgardr again someday,
but he assumed that someday would be far off in the future.
The king, it turned out, thought differently, for
all during breakfast this particular morning, he seemed distracted and irritable.
He didn’t speak and he hardly ate. Then just as Aaron was about to excuse
himself and start into the day’s duties, the king called out firmly, “Aaron, gather
your things. You and I are going back to Mimgardr, and we’re going today.”
After
stepping through the enchanted door and crossing the corroded community on
foot, they entered Master Merlin’s forgotten tower. Pale light seeped through
the dirty windows and cast shadows across every stone. Thick layers of dust and
mold found refuge on nearly every surface and filled the air with a choking
aroma. The faint sound of dripping water echoed around them and gave the tower
an eerie presence. It was as though the tower were rebuking them for leaving it
behind and letting it go the way of all the earth.
Aaron
waited alone for several minutes while the king retrieved a large, flat bundle
from its hiding place in the basement. Then they made their way up the stairs
cautiously, taking a moment to pause on each floor and look for any signs of
life. Six floors up they climbed until they reached the door of the sorcerer’s now
roofless office. Across the hall the door to the old library was open. Raiders
had removed a few of the relics inside, but most of the library’s bounty had
been left for the duo to remove before they sealed the little realm off from
the rest of the world four years and eleven months ago.
Their
attention turned to the old office and they entered it reverently. It too had
been emptied, and now only the furniture and dust remained.
“Sit down,
Aaron,” the king admonished, gesturing to the two chairs that sat before an
ominous desk at the heart of the room. Aaron remembered spending a great deal
of time in those chairs during his apprenticeship, and the thought of sitting
in them again made him long for the happier days of old.
“Your
Highness?” Aaron returned, taking the offered seat slowly and examining the
octagonal office. He knew that King Michael insisted on being called Mickey
among friends, and only allowed himself to be called by his given name or a title
in formal circumstances, but it had never sat well with Aaron. It seemed to
contradict everything his parents had taught him about respecting people of
high standing and greater age. So, he used titles as much as possible, even
though the king detested it at every turn. “Why are we here? Why did you bring
me back to Mimgardr? You know what this place does to me. There’s a reason we
chose to abandon it.”
“We’ve
waited long enough,” the king returned as he carefully deposited the bundle beside
the desk and glared Aaron down yet again for his use of Your Highness.
“Long
enough?” Aaron asked in confusion. “Long enough for what?”
“Long
enough for things to… Settle? I believe that’s the word you used.”
“Oh,”
Aaron breathed, cringing in guilt. “You saw the letter on my desk, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” the
king confirmed as he seated himself in the magnificent armchair across from
Aaron and turned his gaze to the metal door on his right that led away to the private
chambers of the tower’s former master. “Not that I needed to. You’re about as
easy to read as a picture book. Actually, your little ranting letter was quite
timely. I think you’re finally ready to see what happened to Dan all those
years ago from his own perspective.”
“I think I
understand what happened well enough, Your Majesty. I don’t want to see it from
Dan’s perspective; it was bad enough from my own.”
The
failing health of the king made smiling difficult for him. His spritely pizzazz
was growing dim as unnatural age continued to wreak havoc on his body. Many of
the activities he once cherished were simply beyond him now. However, faithful
to his word and his master’s centuries-old traditions, King Mickey had insisted
that they return to Mimgardr and that they cloth themselves in Mimgardr fashion
before doing so. As for himself that meant he was back in his characteristic
attire: brown pants, simple red robes, broken-in loafers, and the famous white
gloves Aaron had never seen him without. His hair was slicked back as always,
and he wore no crown. Why he refused a crown, no one knew, but he had been
quite adamantly against them for the entire duration of his rule. He preferred
flat caps and fedoras if anything.
He looked
down on Aaron and shook his head as he declined the young man’s claim, “You have
no idea what they’ve done to him, Aaron.”
“They? Do
you mean the Fallen?”
“No,” the
king returned ponderously, “and yet, yes.”
“I don’t
understand,” Aaron groaned in frustration as he sank back into his chair.
“That’s
exactly why I’ve brought you back here,” the king snapped. His higher-pitched voice
had lost none of its potent enthusiasm. “It’s about time that I take you back—back
to the beginning—to see some things you haven’t before. Then, you will be able
to help me repair the heart I should’ve kept from breaking and reinstate Dan’s
honor.”
“The
beginning?” Aaron questioned, glancing down at his watch when it chimed the ten
o’clock morning hour. “Do you mean whoever they are has been after Dan
since even before he and I were made your apprentices?”
“Long
before then, Aaron,” the king returned. “Someone tainted Dan years before Merlin
and I ever met him.”
Aaron’s
eyes turned downward. His blue robes seemed to be bunching up strangely now, so
he straightened them vigorously while balancing his white staff against his
chest. Then he anxiously straightened the pointy, brimless, blue hat that
adorned his brow. Why would anyone want to ruin a person’s life like that?
“What do
they want with Dan, Mickey?” he asked nervously as his eyes danced around the
office.
“And why did we come back to Mimgardr to talk about this? Why couldn’t
we talk about this back home.”
“I don’t
know what they want with him, Aaron,” the king answered as his eyes descended
to the object beside the desk. “But there is much to learn from Mimgardr. This
tower is where your apprenticeships began, and for now that’s as far back as we
can go.”
The king
cautiously leaned forward to pull away the knotted cloak that covered the secret
object. The mirror beneath the cloth had an exquisite silver frame and was
about two and a half feet tall. A beautifully realistic, silver rose was the
crowning piece of the frame’s composition, and if it weren’t for the evil
locked away behind that rose’s magical seal, Aaron would’ve very much liked to
have the mirror for his own home. But this mirror was evil, to say the
least, and it had been left in Mimgardr on purpose. As long as it remained wrapped
up and locked away, its horrors were safe from discovery.
The
foremost of those horrors was the slumbering face trapped deep inside the glass.
The holographic visage was composed of separate red, yellow, blue, green, and
black layers that came together to create a three-dimensional image. Aaron
studied the face carefully while a deep longing sprang to life within him. The face
belonged to Dan Barker, the best friend Aaron had not seen in several years.
“Aaron?”
King Mickey called, snapping his younger counterpart’s attention away from
Dan’s
slumbering expression. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,
sir,” Aaron sighed.
“You’re lying,”
the king exposed, smiling slightly. “I can see it in your eyes. You can’t hide
your feelings from me, Aaron, you know that. You’re a terrible liar; you always
have been. Don’t be afraid to admit it when your heart aches for friendship,
for it is in those moments that we find our greatest desires revealed to us.
You wish to see Dan again, alive and free, as do I, and that is exactly why I
have brought you back to Mimgardr. Here we can study the past without the distractions
of other people or technology.”
“I still don’t
understand what we’re looking for.”
“What have
we been looking for the last five years, young master?” the king returned
incredulously.
“We have a mystery to solve and a murderer to catch. Our friends
are depending on us. Surely you haven’t forgotten the promises we made and the
oaths we took.”
“Your
Highness, I know you and the masters have been trying to finish my training as
quickly as possible, but I’m just not ready to fulfill those promises yet. I
need more time.”
“You do
realize you haven’t spoken to Dan in three years? No letters. No phone calls. No
visits. Nothing. It’s like you’ve abandoned your pledge to Dan the same as
you’ve abandoned your pledge to Mimgardr.”
Aaron’s
eyes dropped. The forthright question and accusations stung. “I’ve
tried to…” Aaron sputtered weakly. “I just… I don’t…”
“Did you
bring the stone?” the king asked, moving on.
“Yes,”
Aaron answered quietly, extracting the special stone from his pocket. It was rounded
and clear, not too unlike the lens of a magnifying glass. As it passed from his
hands to those of the king, a strange warmth radiated through it.
“I’ve
spent a great deal of time gathering Dan’s scattered memories,” King Mickey
explained. With a flick of his wrist, the king spun the stone into the air over
the desk. It rose quickly and then hung there spinning at an incredible speed.
“And it has cost me a great deal of sleep, I’ll have you know.”
“But
harvesting memories requires the approval of the owner, doesn’t it?” Aaron inquired.
“You’d have to be standing right in front of Dan to gather them, and he’d have
to give you permission to take them, right?”
The king
nodded slightly. “It was difficult to persuade him, but yes. After months and
months of prodding, I’ve finally convinced Dan to show me what he’s experienced.
At least what he remembers and is willing to share.”
“Remembers?”
Aaron returned, trying to overlook the fact that the king had gone to see Dan
without inviting him to come along. “How could he not remember?”
“When the
will is strong enough, it is astounding what one’s mind can do. Especially when
magic is involved. You see, Aaron, Dan refuses to talk about the old days and has
even tried to cast away his memory in hopes of forgetting the pain. Unfortunately,
for both him and us, because of the contract he actually has a place he can
banish the memories to.” The king pointed to the mirror. “You’ll understand in
a moment. Now, I will show you as much as I can from his perspective, but to
fill the gaps I’m going to depend on your own recollections, if it’s agreeable
that I use them.”
“That’s
fine, I guess,” Aaron returned slowly, concerned more about what Dan would be
trying to forget. “I don’t think I have anything to hide.”
The king
smiled, and with a second snap the glass halted and lowered to the table. It
floated an inch or so above the desk, and the king gestured to it politely, “Your
finger, please, Master Aaron.”
“Exactly
what are you going to show me?” Aaron asked with a tinge of fear as he gently
laid his index finger to the seeing stone.
“Just… be
prepared for lots of heartache, all right? And keep track of the abrupt endings
and missing things in Dan’s memory,” the king replied gently, adding his own
finger’s touch to the opposing edge. “To relive an old memory is to experience
every part of it: the smells, the sights, the emotions, everything. We’ll begin
with a scene that I hope is pleasant for you. Then we will watch the past spin
by one memory at a time in hopes of divining the answers we seek.”
A surge
rushed up Aaron’s arm, and his vision blurred as magical energy projected
itself around them like a dream. It began as a flurried cloud of pigment. Then
the colors began to take the familiar form of the company pick-up Aaron had
driven just six years ago when he was working as a sales manager in Loudoun County,
Virginia. The familiar music and lyrics of “Tom Sawyer,” a song performed by Rush,
one of Dan’s favorite bands, filled their ears and brought a smile to Aaron’s
face.
For the last time, the king’s taunting tone
rippled through the air before the vision completely overtook them, “Do you
remember this day, Aaron? I’ll give you a clue: the date is Friday, August 17,
2012.”
“Of course, I remember,” Aaron returned fondly.
“This is the day I met you.”
(End of Excerpt)
I hope you enjoyed the prologue. Comment below and share with your friends! Check back tomorrow too. I have another surprise for you...