Mage Throne Prophecy
Table of Contents
Title Page
James A. Haddock III
Website: Jameshaddock.us | Copyright © 2020
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
James A. Haddock III
Website: Jameshaddock.us
Copyright © 2020
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
When you see this, “¥and conversation,¥” it means they are speaking Japanese. I hope it’s not too confusing for you.
A routine physical shows Captain Ross Mitchell has a flesh-eating virus that specifically targets the brain. Prognosis says he'll be a vegetable by week's end. Having survived numerous incursions in combat around the world, he decides he's not going out like that. He drives a rented corvette into a cliff face at over 200 MPH. The fiery impact catapults him toward the afterlife.
Instead of finding the afterlife, he finds himself in a different body with an old man stabbing him in his chest. He fights free, killing the old man before passing out. He wakes to find he's now in the body of Prince Aaron, the 15-year-old second son of the King.
In this medieval world, the Royals are Mages. The old man who was trying to kill him was a Mage "Vampire". Instead of blood, the old Mage was trying to steal Ross/Aaron's power, knowledge, and in this case his body. When Ross/Aaron killed the old Mage, his vampire power was transferred to him. He now has the memories, knowledge, and powers of the old Mage.
Ross/Aaron must navigate this new environment of court intrigue with care. His older brother, the Crown Prince, hates him. His older sister has no use for him. The King sees him as an asset to be used, agreeing to marry him to a neighboring Kingdom for an alliance. Before the marriage takes place, the castle is attacked. Someone is trying to kill him but is finding it most difficult. Where Mages fight with Magic, Ross/Aaron fights with magic and steel. It's hard to cast a spell with a knife through your skull, or your throat cut.
As Ross/Aaron travels with his fiancée toward her home for the marriage to take place, they are attacked at every turn. Someone doesn't want this wedding to happen. Ross/Aaron has had enough of people trying to kill him. With Aaron's knowledge, and Ross' training, they take the offensive. The Kingdom will never be the same.
Chapter 1
Head tilted back; I took the last long pull from the fancy whiskey bottle. I tossed the empty over the cliff, watching it fall until it shattered on the sea rocks below. It would be easy to follow the bottle over, but not much style in that. I sat down, feet hanging off the cliff in open air. I liked the feel and the smell of the ocean breeze, and the sound of the waves crashing. Looking toward the horizon, I watched as the sun edged up beginning a new day.
"Ya know Lord, it's always been just You and me. The military was my family, got no one else. With all the things I've done in my twenty-seven years of life, all the special ops training the deployments all over the world; All the fights, fire fights, crashes, explosions I've been through, to have You end me with a flesh-eating bacteria that eats brains, is kind of embarrassing. What kind of crap is that? Sorry, that's the whiskey talking. But, really. I mean I never wanted a blaze of glory, but my brain being eaten, and not even by zombies? Come on."
"Doc says I'll be a slobbering idiot in a week, laying in my waste. Well, I ain't going out like that. I'll fight You for it. I win I get to live; You win... well at least it will be a clean death... Nothing to say? Surely You have an angel trained in hand-to-hand as good as me, I'll fight him..." He waited, shrugged his shoulders, "It was worth a try. Ok, I'll see You in a few minutes."
I stood up, brushing my hands, and pants off, and walked toward the car. "Ya know, some cultures believe if they killed a horse at your grave, you'd have a horse to ride in the next life. Well, I rented me this new Corvette Stingray; it will be my ride in the next life." I laughed. "Don't worry I bought the extra insurance; they won't lose any money on it."
I got in the car and started it. I sat listening to the engine as I revved it a few times. I turned the radio on and turned the music up. Putting the shifter into first and eased out on the clutch. I shifted smoothly through the gears gaining speed with each shift. I took the curves faster than I thought possible. "Wooo-Woo, Lord, this baby can hang the curves!" On the last long straight away I held the accelerator to the floor.
The cliff face grew larger and larger, filling the view through the windshield. I glanced down at the speedometer it read 205 mph. Oddly, I realized that Meatloaf's "Bat Out of Hell" was playing on the radio. I laughed, "Ready or not Lord, here I come." I heard God laugh. "Uh-oh,". The car went from 205 mph to zero in an instant. The inertia from the car's impact, and the exploding fuel caused the cliff face to collapses, closing the interstate.
ALL WAS DARKNESS, BUT a pinprick of light. As I watched, it seemed to get larger. It was like a star in the night's sky. It was coming toward me or I toward it. I started hearing something. "Wind noise? No, something else. It has a rhythm to it like music or singing. Chanting, that’s chanting, I must still be drunk."
The hole of light sped toward me, and I toward it. As I sped toward it, the chanting grew louder. I suddenly realized two things. God has a sense of humor; and be careful what you ask for, you might get it.
I was through the hole of light. There was a tearing pain in my right chest. I grabbed for the pain, my hand closed around someone's hand, and that hand was around the handle of a dagger. Time slowed; the chanting continued.
Another dagger descended from my left; I grabbed his wrist stopping it. My eyes focused on my attacker. It was an old man covered in blue, red, and black paint with gold runes all over his face and naked upper body. He might have been old, but he was strong, or I was weak. The dagger was coming down toward my chest, and I couldn't stop it.
I head-butted him in the face. The dagger's downward pressure stopped, and so did the chanting. I forced the dagger from my right chest out and shoved but kept a hold on his wrists. As he fell back, he pulled me up from the table I was on, and we went over and onto the floor.
He was regaining his senses and starting to fight again, but I now had both dagger handles in my hands. He rolled over on top of me, but before he could do more, I slashed both daggers across his throat almost cutting his head off. His blood covered me, seeping into my cuts and stab wound.
His dying body lay on top of me, his blood draining out on to me. I was exhausted, I started to push his body off me but cramped and started to convulse. It felt like my flesh was on fire, burning me to the bone.
My mind was also burning, like someone was trying to rip it from my soul, and body. I fought to hold on. I fought like a berserker, screaming and teari
ng, holding nothing back. I don't know how long I fought, but I fought until blackness claimed me.
MY EYES FLEW OPEN. The old man was still on top of me. I was still holding the daggers, without thinking I reversed the daggers, blades along my forearms. I opened my hands, and the daggers sank through my skin, laying along the bones of my arms. I stared at my arms, then felt along them. I couldn't feel the daggers, but I knew they were there.
I closed my hand, as if around the dagger handles. They emerged from my arms, handles in my hands, ready to be used. I opened my hands, and they went back into hiding. "How crazy is that?"
I pushed the old man off me and realized I was naked. Not only was I naked, I was covered in blue, red, and black paint with gold runes all over my body. The runes weren't paint they were actual runes, made of gold, embedded into my skin. I looked at the old man, he no longer had any paint or runes on him. There was also no blood on us or the floor, neither were there any wounds on either of us.
I crawled over to the water pitcher and drank my fill. I looked around the old man's room; I knew it was his room we were in. My clothes lay on the bed. I needed to get this paint off me. I stood walking to the washbasin, wetting a cloth to wash. When I started, there was no paint on me nor any runes visible. The room spun; I sat down and lay back, washing my face with the cool wet rag.
That made me feel better. I crawled over to the wall and sat up leaning against it. I looked at the dead mage laying on the stone floor. "Mage?" Questions flooded my mind. Where was I that magic existed, or when was I? Why was he trying to kill me? Had this person, that I now was, been trying to kill him?
I felt weak, why was I so exhausted? I looked down at myself, this body. It, I, whatever, was young. I'd guess early teens. I would not say fat, but soft, out of shape. I leaned my head back against the wall. The question remained, why was the Mage trying to kill me? I realized that was what was happening; he had been trying to kill me. My head began to hurt like the worst hangover I ever had. I saw a memory through the dead Mage's eyes, like it was my memory.
I STOOD ON THE TERRACE overlooking the Royal gardens. The fresh fragrances opening my head, and the morning sun heating my old bones.
"Sir Mage." a servant called. I hated interruptions during my meditation time.
"Yes?" I answered.
"The King requests your presence." Which was the same as saying, drop what you are doing, he wants to see you now. I nodded and followed him toward the Royal chambers.
"Hopefully, the seeds I had planted have taken root."
We arrived at the Kings receiving room; they showed me in. The King was sitting behind his desk looking out the window. I bowed, "Sire." He said nothing, I waited.
He turned and faced me, "I have reached a decision. You will give the boy the serum. He is fifteen Summers, and he has shown no abilities. It's time."
I nodded, showing no emotion. Inside I was elated. I had been working toward this opportunity for three years.
"When can you do it?"
"It will take me a day to prepare everything, so we can start tomorrow night. Then It will be three days before we know if it worked."
The King nodded, "do it."
"Yes, Sire."
He turned back to the window. I took that as my dismissal and left. It had been a long three years. It had been hard work holding the Prince back. Hiding and frustrating his power manifestations had not been easy. He was a powerful Mage in the making. He would make the perfect vessel for me, it would rid me of this old body, and get rid of the Prince at the same time. I would one day be king. I still had to deal with the Crown Prince, but I had plenty of time for that.
I must prepare everything just right. The blood magic spell was forbidden magic for a reason, it’s very dangerous. This would be my ninth mind-body transfer; it was worth the risk.
MY MEMORY POINT OF view changed to the Prince. "You will take the serum tonight." the King said, "It will shock your body and your powers will manifest."
"Or it will kill me," I answered.
"That is why the old Mage is giving it to you. He will help you through the transition. He has done this before."
"And all have survived?" I asked.
The King's face hardened, "You will take the serum tonight. We will talk again in three days." I followed him to the old tower where the old Mage's chambers were. The door was open, so we went straight in. "In three days then." the King said and left.
"Yes, Sire." The old Mage answered. "Come in Prince Aaron, let us prepare." He went to his worktable and got a vial of something. "Drink this." and handed it to me.
"Is this the serum?"
"No, that is to prepare your body to take the serum." I drank it. Things became foggy after that.
I OPENED MY EYES AND looked at the dead Mage. "Well, aren't I the turd in the punchbowl." I saw food on the sideboard and realized how hungry I was. I got some meat, cheese, and bread, sat down and began eating.
"Regardless of where 'here' is, or 'when' here is, the point is I am here. The question is what to do next. I'm in a young body, my father is king, our family is rich, but dysfunctional. I can work with that. The magic stuff may be a problem. The King is expecting me to be a Mage or dead. Though in rare cases the serum does not kill the person, and no power develops. I’ll have to play this by ear. On the plus side, the King won't be back to check on me for a few days."
After I ate, I put the room back in order, as if no fight had taken place. I left the Mage's body where it lay. I'd claim ignorance of his demise. I drank more water, the pitcher always seemed to be full of water. I was still exhausted, so I lay down and went to sheep. I don't remember what I dreamed; I just remember dreaming. The memories were all mixed, ten others and mine.
I woke early and started what was my normal morning routine. Stretching, exercise, martial arts forms, and katas. I could not go running so I stayed with aerobic exercises. I had a lot of work to do to get this body into shape. I also had to concentrate more on my bladed weapons, as there were no firearms here. I started practicing with my forearm daggers and found them extremely sharp.
I had to do everything slowly, as I was not used to this body's coordination, and timing. I ate, drank lots of water, stretched, and rested. While I rested, I ran different scenarios through my mind, and how I would handle each. So far, I thought my safest bet was to say nothing, feigning amnesia. I'd let them make up a story they believed. In the morning, I expected them to come and check on me.
As the sun rose, I stood out on the balcony naked, as if in a daze. It worked better than I expected. They asked me nothing. They put a cover around me and took me back to my room. A short time later a doctor showed up and examined me.
"Do you know where you are?" I just stared at him. "Are you in any pain?"
I thought I might as well get something out of this, "hungry," I whispered.
"Hungry, you're hungry?"
This guy was quick. "Hungry," I repeated, and said no more. They started with desserts, Prince Aarons favorite. I pushed it away, "Food." They brought more foods. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the King at the door. I kept eating at the same slow pace.
The doctor went over to him. "How is he?" The King asked.
"He is still confused, but he asked for food, that is a good sign." The King nodded and stepped into the room. I kept eating.
He stood in front of me, "Aaron?" I kept eating. He reached and lifted my chin to look at him. I had to remind myself he was looking at a 15-year-old boy. "Do you know who I am?" I stared at him, as if thinking.
"King." I answered. He released my chin, I went back to eating, playing my part.
"He should be better in a few days Sire." The doctor said. The King nodded and left.
When I stopped eating, they took all the food and dishes away. When everyone had gone except the doctor, "bath." I said.
He nodded, "Good, very good." he said smiling. He had servants bring a tub and hot water. I bathed and changed into clean clothes. I thou
ght I'd stick to single words for a while, it was working so far. They brought dinner to my room, which suited me. I wasn't ready to meet the family yet.
I rose early the next morning and continued my training program. I tied my small clothes, their version of underwear, on and worked up a good sweat. I washed off, put my clothes on, and waited for breakfast to be brought in. While I waited, I sat on the balcony meditating. The doctor arrived at the same time as my food did. I ignored him and ate.
"Prince Aaron, what happened to the old Mage? Do you remember?"
I did not look at him. Chewed my food a moment longer. "Died." I said and continued to eat. I'd let that mystery grow.
"How do you feel?"
Time to turn the game up a little. I froze with food halfway to my mouth and appeared to think. "Strange." I finally said.
"Strange how?" I said no more about it and ignored him after that. He finally left. This was getting boring fast. I left my room and headed for the training hall. Aaron had spent little time there. That was about to change.
The hall was empty, so I got a weighed wooden practice sword, and began to practice the sword forms taught here. At the very least it would strengthen my wrists and arms. I knew that the Weapons Master had watched me for a few minutes. Satisfied, he left me to my own devices.
I worked to near exhaustion, then went to the bathhouse, then back to my room. I slept better that night but was still having dreams. Crazy dreams where I was working magic.
The doctor and the King came with breakfast. I stared at the king. "Do you know me?" he asked.
"King." I answered.
He nodded, "what else?"
I stared at him seeming to think, "Father." I answered. That seemed to please him. "How do you feel?"
I squinted my eyes," Strange."
He nodded, "eat," and left. A man of few words. I sat down and ate. Aaron speaking so few words was not his norm. Apparently, Aaron talked a lot. Oh well, not anymore. I have always kept my own council.
Mage Throne Prophecy Page 1