I finished my “Battle for Ebulon” entry point and sent it off to the coordinator of the exercise. I’m not sure when the whole book will be available, but I thought I’d let you read a sneak peek of my portion of the story!
Please bear in mind that the King, the city, and the enemy were not MY creations – they are the common threat that we all had to conform our writing around. This is an excerpt from the first page of my entry point into the story…
The man stood before him, a plea in his eyes that could not be ignored. His shoulders were broad and strong, but at the moment they drooped pathetically, as though he had been carrying a weight that was far too heavy for far too long.
“Please,” the man began, his tone imploring, “please, we cannot hold any longer. We beg your aid. If there are any heroes left to hear our call, they are desperately needed here at Ebulon.”
Brant awoke. He blinked, feeling disoriented. For a moment, he was unsure of what had woken him. He sat up in bed, shaking off the fog of sleep. Dylanna sat up as well. She squinted at him in the Toreth-light. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing the lines of her face and noting how the silvery beams of the Toreth glinted in his wife’s dark hair.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“A strange dream…” Brant shook his head, “it was probably nothing.”
“Me too,” she admitted.
“I was being asked for help…”
Dylanna stared at him oddly. “Was it by a man standing in the snow, dressed strangely in furs and armor, with a battered crown on his head? A… King Yadi… was that his name?”
He stared at her. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Was he in a place called Ebulon?”
Brant nodded slowly. “It wasn’t just a dream, was it?”
They dressed quickly, adorning themselves by unspoken agreement in warm clothes and battle-armor. They spared but a moment to retrieve their weapons. Brant always kept the Fang Blade sharp, and he buckled it to his waist now as Dylanna strapped a simple knife to her wrist and slung a bow and quiver over her shoulder. He hoped she wouldn’t need either; magic was her primary weapon.
They raced through the halls of the palace, to the secret tunnels leading to the depths of the slumbering volcano beside which the castle was built. In the center of the concealed chasm rested the greatest gift of magic their world had ever seen. Brant and Dylanna stood before it, hesitating.
“Send out the call,” Dylanna urged. “Even now we may be too late.”
“We don’t even know where we’re going,” Brant replied. “What if…?”
He felt the cry reverberate once more inside his head. It was desperate, pleading. Whoever this King Yadi was, he sounded sincere. As he reached out to touch Yorien’s Hand once more, information poured into his mind. Ebulon. The last human kingdom in its world. Besieged by a monstrous army of creatures… Orcs… whatever those were. The city was on the brink of falling. If nobody came…
Shaking these dark thoughts from his mind, Brant grasped hold of the fallen star more tightly. Yorien’s Hand blazed with a brilliant, blinding light as Brant transmitted the cry for help across his kingdom. He knew, without understanding how, that the star would take them to Ebulon, as well as any others who answered the call. He poured his will into the star and felt a strange freezing sensation wash over him. The sensation passed, though the chill in the air remained.