Monday, January 19, 2015

I Am Zebad: Excerpt of Oedarin #1

Hello, everyone, and welcome! Welcome to your first major peek into Oblivion's Gate, Book 2! I
hope you're as excited as I am.

Last April, when I announced Oedarin as Mimgardr's sequel in "It Will Continue in Oedarin", I also shared some information about where the story would pick up and mentioned a single phrase carved into the doors of the royal catacombs, namely "I am Zebad!"

As I've thought about which piece of the story to share with you first, my mind has continually gone back to that first post and the words I am Zebad. It was gut instinct leading me perfectly. The first clip had to connect to the first announcement. And so it does.

I hope you enjoy your first peek into Oedarin and leave plenty of feedback in the comments below.

Enjoy!

Excerpt from Oedarin, Chapter 7, "Trust Me"
Dan woke with a start to find one of the Grim standing at the end of the bed. It had been three days since Mistress Gael’s funeral, and Dan had seen neither hide nor hair of the Grim since the day they discovered her dead body. “What are you doing here?”
“To whom do I speak?”
“Dan,” Dan answered, puzzled.
The Grim lifted its hood and Dan gasped at Titus’ appearance. He looked completely normal. He wasn’t withered or Grim-like; he was his regular old self save for the sallow skin and bloodless wounds.
“Titus?” Dan questioned. “Is that really you?”
Titus nodded. He opened his mouth to speak and a fiery glow leaped out, as if a bonfire burned below in the Olympian’s stomach. His voice was wheezing and certainly Grim-like. “I bear part of Dullahan’s charge. By night the fire burns harmlessly inside me, but in daylight it is consuming.”
“I’m so sorry, Titus,” Dan said. “I never meant for this to happen to you.”
“It is done,” Titus returned.
“Where are the others? Where’s Dullahan?”
Titus closed his eyes and rolled his head back like one would when enjoying a warm breeze. “They ride against Tartarus. Your power will soon be awakened.”
“Power?”
“Come,” Titus beckoned, turning toward the door. “There isn’t much time. Oolong is waiting for us.”
It was then that Dan realized Oolong wasn’t with him and he shot from the bed like a frightened rabbit.
Titus walked to the door and it opened without his touch, evidencing his share in both Dullahan’s curse and power. Dan wrapped the shroud around his shoulders and followed quickly, carrying the Oblivion like a spear.
Titus led him down into the throne room. They entered silently and crossed the room to where Oolong was waiting for them beneath an enormous tapestry behind Mickey and Rosabella’s thrones.
“What are you doing down here, Oolong?” Dan whispered quietly.
The leviathan motioned toward the Oblivion and then toward the tapestry. All the while his tongue flicked in and out, smelling the air anxiously.
Dan lifted the Oblivion. “Is there something behind the tapestry?”
The leviathan nodded. His parietal eye glowed green and the tapestry rolled upward like a scroll. Behind it was nothing more than a bare white wall.
“Reveal this doorway’s secrets,” Dan whispered to the Oblivion. The black marble orb at the staff’s top glowed blue and at the same time three of the bricks before him began to glow in a continuous sequence. Dan lifted his free hand and pressed each brick as it became luminescent. With each touch the stone changed from a solid form to a hollow apparition. When the sequence was complete the wall rippled like water.
“Go in,” Titus counseled.
“Where does it lead?”
“To the locker.”
The catacombs, Dan thought. I wonder what else I might find down there. Then his conscience cleared its throat. I can’t go down there! I can’t start snooping around Mickey’s castle. It would betray his and Aaron’s trust.
Oolong suddenly slipped away through the wall and vanished.
“Wait, Oolong!” Dan called as quietly as he could. He darted through the wall, hoping to recall Oolong, but the leviathan was already snaking along at a furious pace. Then Titus came through behind him and the wall solidified. The special elfin lights that ran down the corridor began to illuminate one by one and at the far end a stairway and an elevator were revealed. Oolong was already moving down the spiraling stairs.
“Oolong!” Dan yelled aggressively. “Get back here! We’re not supposed to be down here. What will Mickey think of us snooping around?” No heed was given to him, and he raced after Oolong angrily. “I’m talking to you!”
Down the endless stairs they went, down into the darkness. At the bottom Oolong waited for them quietly, and when Dan caught up to him he gave the leviathan a hard thump on the head. “I told you to wait. We’re not supposed to be down here. How can we expect Mickey and Aaron to trust us again if we’re snooping around all the time?”
Oolong growled at him and quickly rose up to cover Dan’s mouth with his foot. Then he pointed ahead with his tail. Dan turned his gaze. The enormous doors before them had been defaced with rough Asketillian characters and the locking mechanism had been almost completely destroyed. One of the doors was open, requiring Dan to shift his position to read the Asketillian declaration: I am Zebad!
We’re not alone down here, Dan thought in horrified realization. Oolong released him, and he made his way toward the door. He peeked through the gap into a dimly lit room the size of the banquet hall. The walls were lined with numbers as if there were supposed to be vaults beneath each one. Pedestals, much like the ones from the two halls in Mimgardr, formed a vanguard on either side of the red carpet that crossed the room from the entry doors to a rear set. The opposing doors had been forced open as well while the vaults and pedestals remained untouched.
Timidly Dan lifted the hood of his cloak and entered the room. Oolong and Titus followed behind him. The marble walls around them were black instead of white. A chill filled the room and Dan’s breath became a cloud around his head.
“It’s cold,” he whispered. “Why?”
“Dan,” Titus whispered, taking him by the shoulder, “make ready.”
Dan studied the glow that was growing in Titus’ throat and nodded. They reached the other door, ignoring the host of new artifacts that stood atop the columns around them, and entered a long hall that was lined with more door-less vaults. A smaller set of doors awaited them at the end of it, and they could hear a whispered voice beyond. “It won’t be long now, and I will not fail this time. Not this time!”
Dan looked into Oolong’s eyes, and the leviathan nodded them forward. With a deep breath Dan lifted the Oblivion into a fighting position and Oolong slipped forward through the doors.
This room was much smaller than the last. It was round and a dry fountain of fierce masonry occupied the center of it. The man across from them was cloaked beyond recognition and he merely turned when they erupted in on him. He stood on the far side of the room where the portraits of the Fallen Ones, which had once hung in Mimgardr, were stacked against the wall. Above the piled pictures something hung on the wall blocked from view by a covering of black cloth.

This excerpt was taken from the editorial manuscript of
Oedarin (Oblivion's Gate, Book 2) by S. R. Ford.
Copyright 2014 S. R. Ford. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Catch you next time!

And don't forget to comment below. Your comments and discussions will reflect on which clip I share next.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Finish This #3: The Hero's Tragedy

 The Hero's Tragedy


Wind swept the sand away, leaving only course rocks for him to stumble over. His feet quickly bloodied and his knees quivered with fatigue. Sweat had ceased to drip, and he felt Death breathing down the back of his neck. I'll never make it, he thought. Not this time. He lifted his head lazily and far off in the distance, beyond the horizon and at the very brink of eternity, he saw what would've been his salvation. It shimmered and mocked him with a seductive dance brought on by the heat of the desert. It knew he'd never make it, and so it danced triumphantly, claiming its prize before the battle was officially over. I wish I could have told them, he thought as he collapsed against his bitter deathbed. Never trust a <Finish This>.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Here and There, They Say

Here and There, They Say

His face is veiled in darkness.
His sharp staff lights the broken way.
For precious things he wanders
Here and there, they say.

No lock thus far can keep him
From claiming anything he may.
To find his prize he travels
Here and there, they say.

Nine shadows form his vanguard.
Their scythes reflect the slightest ray.
They follow when he journeys
Here and there, they say.

They come from Hell beneath us.
Demons! Demons! Yes, are they!
For people dear have vanished
Here and there, they say.

Never a word is spoken,
But do not dare to cause delay.
This phantom has killed many
Here and there, they say.

He earned his name in battle
when he caused the world great dismay.
A traitor seeking safety
Here and there, they say.

 If you see him drawing near,
You should quickly clear out the way,
Or he'll scatter you in pieces
Here and there, they say.