Heirs of Prophecy

by M. A. Rothman

  After a while, the details of the story began getting jumbled in my head, so I began writing things down. And the stories grew in complexity. It became a saga to entertain what at the time were seven and eight-year-old boys. And when I was done, those stories remained in my desk drawer for a long time.

  But along the way, something had happened to me. I’d gotten the writing bug.

  I learned that I enjoyed the process of creating stories, and because I can’t leave well enough alone, I began thinking about maybe writing something for myself.

  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy epic fantasy, and grew up on Tolkien, Eddings, and various other authors who set me on the path, but I equally enjoyed Crichton, Asimov, Grisham, and many others in genres that dealt more with action and adventure.

  I’d made friends with some rather well-known authors, and when I talked about maybe getting more serious about this writing thing, several of them gave me the same advice, “Write what you know.”

  Write what I know? I began to think about Michael Crichton. He was a non-practicing MD, and started off with a medical thriller. John Grisham was an attorney for a decade before writing a series of legal thrillers. Maybe there’s something to that advice.

  I began to ponder, “What do I know?” And then it hit me.

  I know science. It’s what I do for a living and what I enjoy reading nowadays. In fact, one of my hobbies is reading formal papers spanning many scientific disciplines. My interests range from particle physics, computers, the military sciences (you know, the science behind what makes stuff go boom), and medicine. I’m admittedly a bit of a nerd in that way. I’ve also traveled extensively during my life, and am an informal student of foreign languages and cultures.

  With the advice of some New York Times bestselling authors, I started my foray into writing novels.

  And then the unexpected happened.

  People began reading them!

  And then I hit a national bestseller list or two.

  This hobby had suddenly become something a bit more than I’d expected.

  And even though I’m not, strictly-speaking, a full-time author, by the end of this year, I should have over twenty books out in a relatively short period of time.

  Those bedtime stories had turned into something much more than I’d ever imagined.

  And then I opened that drawer where everything started.

  The musty and yellowed sheets of printed paper I’d set aside long ago, I began reading those stories and cringing.

  I am so much better than I was back then. Somehow or another, I’d picked up some skills and instincts that hadn’t been there a decade earlier.

  I thought to myself, “Maybe it’s time for me to see if I can make something of those old stories?”

  After reading the work I’d done long ago, I realized the stories were still quite solid. It was the prose I was uncomfortable with, and the ages of the main characters needing to be tweaked, but it probably wouldn’t be too bad to revamp the old stories and bring them to the public.

  Decent book covers, proper editing, audio books, the whole shebang.

  And here we are, dear reader.

  I’m assuming if you’re reading these words, that you hopefully enjoyed the story. If this is the first book of mine you’ve read, then let me explain a few things about what you’ll always see in my books.

  There is always an author’s note to the reader. That’s the section you’re currently reading, and this is where I talk to you directly about what I do, who I am, and why I do it.

  I did want to talk a bit about my contract with you, the reader.

  I write to entertain.

  That truly is my first and primary goal. Because, for most people, that’s what readers typically want out of a novel.

  That’s certainly what I always wanted. Story first, always.

  In this particular story, I dive deeply into a fantasy world that doesn’t necessarily have a strong correlation to the science of our world, but this is a four-book series, and trust me, there is some science coming in the upcoming books that is real and does apply.

  You’ll find that in this series I do what everyone says I shouldn’t: I cross the streams between science fiction and fantasy.

  Some have called my past writing choices eclectic, unexpected, but the vast majority of feedback I’ve received to date has thankfully been positive. So, thank you to those who have been readers of my other books. Posting reviews is, of course, the easiest way to let me and others know what you thought of this novel or any of my work. Word of mouth is precious to us poor authors.

  However, even though I enjoy writing about events, history, science, and now dipping my toe into fantasy, my primary goal always circles back to entertaining.

  As always, at the end of this book, I have an addendum where I cover certain details regarding the creation of this novel, the research that went into it, and of course, I go into the science and technology—mostly because I can’t help myself.

  I do hope you enjoyed this story, and I hope you’ll continue to join me in the future stories yet to come.

  Mike Rothman

  April 2, 2020

  If you enjoyed this story, I should let you know there is more where this came from. Book two, Heirs of Prophecy, picks up where this story leaves off. If you wanted to know about that blue-eyed boy, his family, and how they come into this new world to finally meet and interact with a whole new cast of characters, including Arabelle, this should hopefully be a treat.

  I include a preview of the first chapter of the next book, but before I do that, if you’re a fan of the fantasy genre, and have enjoyed this story, I should also point out that, aside from this series, I do have one other book (as of now) in the fantasy genre. It also features a seventeen-year-old girl who…

  Well, if you’ll indulge me, below is a brief description of Dispocalypse:

  In a post-apocalyptic world ruled by a governor who is both feared and worshipped, Willow is a seventeen-year-old girl who is trying to get through her last year of studies. But when her father dies, she experiences strange dreams that change everything about how she looks at the world and at herself.

  Haunted by the tragedy, Willow pushes herself beyond anything she could have imagined she was capable of. It's only when she catches the attention of some of the governor's informants that her world is turned upside-down

  Preview – Tools of Prophecy

  Malphas breathed in the aroma of scorched flesh and sulfur as he awaited instruction from Sammael, the Lord of the Dark Host. Demonkind weren’t known for their forgiving nature, but despite Malphas’s past failures, he felt secure in the belief that his lord would have a role for him in the coming offensive. After all, he’d come so close to victory during the last assault.

  Though it had occurred over five centuries ago, Malphas could still clearly recall the moment he broke through the entrance into the world above. The taste of the air, the feel of the sun, the smell of the burning cities, and the combined might of the human, elf, and dwarf armies falling beneath the blades of his forces… Just the thought of it still set his heart racing. Yet even with his early victories, Malphas had ultimately tasted defeat. All thanks to the wrath of a single human—an Archmage of devastating power.

  Prior to the Archmage’s intervention, the war had gone just as Lord Sammael had foreseen. Towns were pillaged, fields laid to waste, bodies burned in great pyres. Then the Archmage constructed his barrier, his magical wall. It wiped half of Malphas’s army from existence in the blink of an eye, and sent the remainder of his forces scattered back into the Abyss from whence they’d come.

  And so things had remained… until now.

  Lord Sammael had recently begun assembling his troops for a second surge. After five centuries of trying to find a way through the barrier—and failing—Sammael’s frustration had reached a boiling point.

  And now Malphas knelt before his master, the black scales of his knees pressed against the stone floor. At
twenty feet tall, General Malphas usually towered over his minions, but here, kneeling before the high and immense throne of blackest stone, he felt utterly insignificant.

  The Demon Lord didn’t even acknowledge his presence, merely staring into the distance. In this region of the Abyss, the temperatures always bordered on freezing, yet singeing waves of heat emanated from Sammael’s skin.

  Finally, after a very long wait, Sammael turned his attention to his general. “I have learned that a new wizard has entered Trimoria.” He said the words without speaking. His voice, inky and coarse, erupted as if from within Malphas’s head. “You will find out how such a thing was possible. If one can enter, others can as well.”

  “But, my lord,” Malphas said in his gravelly voice, “how can that be? I thought you arranged for the purging of those who followed Seder.”

  The Demon Lord’s rage bubbled to the surface. “Don’t ever mention my brother’s name again. I will not hear it spoken by the likes of you.”

  Malphas bowed low, touching his forehead to the stone floor, before looking up into the harrowing heat of his master once again.

  Sammael calmed as quickly as he’d become enraged. Closing his eyes, the heat he spewed changed to light, his very skin projecting a series of holographic images into the air between them.

  The first showed a human wizard standing at the base of the throne’s imposing dais. Malphas had seen this human’s image before; this was the wizard over whom Sammael held control. In the hologram, the wizard stood before a group of humans, and bowed slightly in a show of greeting.

  “Greetings,” the wizard said. “My name is Azazel. I fear that I have intruded on your happy home, so I will impose upon your time with only a few simple questions.”

  A large soldier stepped forward. “I am Throll Lancaster,” he replied. “Protector-general of Trimoria. How can I help you, Lord Azazel?”

  The feigned pleasantries continued, but not for long. Soon the encounter turned to battle. Sammael’s wizard sent blasts of energy at his foes, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Malphas could see they were no match for the wizard’s powers.

  But then, to the general’s surprise, an adolescent human stepped forward, his robed garb rustling in the wind, and met Azazel’s assault with a powerful magical attack of his own.

  Malphas gave a grunt of surprise. A rogue wizard in the Trimorian Valley? How was it possible?

  Azazel quickly met this new foe and demonstrated his mastery over the young wizard. But just as he prepared to finish him off, a second gray-robed wizard appeared in the distance and struck Azazel with a powerful blast to the chest.

  Yet the master’s wizard seemed pleased. “Two wizards?” he said with a smile. “Oh, I will savor this for years to come.”

  A furious battle of light and heat ensued. Pulsing streams of sizzling energy flew between the competing wizards, an explosive collision of titanic powers.

  Finally, one of the gray-robed wizards faltered, leaving only the human adolescent standing to face Azazel. Malphas felt his excitement rise. The demon forces would win the day.

  And then, with a single harrowing blast, the adolescent sent the dark wizard flying backwards, impaling him on the wooden handle of a cart. For a moment, he coughed up blood… and then he disappeared in a crackling ball of black and red plasma.

  Malphas couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  Azazel had lost.

  Defeated by a child.

  The scene shifted. Azazel lay helplessly on a forest floor, wheezing, choking back death, his eyes struggling to remain open. Three humans approached—the massive soldier from the first vision accompanied by the pair of rogue wizards. Azazel lifted his hand, and the aura around him solidified into a dense cloud of darkness.

  And with that, the vision came to an end.

  Malphas’s menacing jaw hung open, but he quickly snapped it shut and directed his eyes to the gray stone floor when his master rose and descended from his dais. He saw only the long black shadows cast by his master, but Sammael’s grating voice echoed within Malphas’s head.

  “Not only are there these two rogue wizards, but there is another Archmage walking in Trimoria. It seems as if Ellisandrea’s plan to kill wizards in avoidance of the prophecy has failed. The time of prophecy nears.”

  Still kneeling, Malphas dared to look up at the Demon Lord. “I never trusted that elven witch’s dreams. What can we do? The barrier remains around the valley. We cannot enter.”

  Sammael smiled. “I can still project my influence into anyone who stands near the Seed. My brother remains ignorant of my abilities. The same is true of his Archmage puppet. They ignore the Seed at their peril.”

  The Demon Lord then waved his hand over the general’s horned head, and a mist formed all around him. Nervously, Malphas breathed it in. And then his tension fell away. This… this was his power. The power he’d been missing for centuries. His master was restoring what had long ago been stripped from him.

  I am whole once again.

  “Yes, Malphas. I am returning your powers. You could not have foreseen your failure five hundred and sixty-three years ago. The first Archmage was a variable I had not considered. But you have done your penance, my dear disciple, and I have plans for you.”

  The general smiled. “Thank you, Lord,” he said in thought. With his power restored, he could now communicate telepathically again, without having to summon his voice. “I look forward to hearing your plan.”

  Sammael’s form shifted, settling into its true, amorphous shape. “And you will. For now, rest assured that you will get your war… and our victory. For I have taken control of a new human champion within the barrier.”

  Addendum

  For readers who are familiar with my style of book construction, the addendum is where I talk about the science of the story you just read. But this is without a doubt a fantasy novel, so there’s no science, right?

  Well, yes and no. I will admit that often in fantasy, traditional science is tossed out on its keister and left to rot, but that isn’t always the case. We as authors need to remain consistent with certain rules, even if we make them up ourselves. In this installment of the Prophecies Series, I of course took some liberties with known science, but let’s focus on what parts really do touch on what I’d call traditional science.

  I should note that these addendums are intended to give very brief explanations of what might be complex concepts. My intent is to only leave you with enough information to give a remedial understanding of the subject. However, for those who want to know more, it’s also my intent to leave you with enough keywords that would allow you to initiate your own research and gain a more complete background understanding of any of these topics.

  So what kind of science could there even be in this fantasy novel? I’ll admit, it’s a challenge, but I’m up for it.

  Let’s talk about the Magic Ring

  Magic Ring:

  In this book I introduced a set of rings that people can use to communicate.

  When one person taps or squeezes their ring the person carrying the matching ring will feel the tap or squeeze in their ring.

  The idea for this originated from within a deep dark cave in the world of particle physics. A cave called quantum entanglement.

  Briefly explained, quantum entanglement is the idea that through a variety of methods a single item can be split into two parts where each of the parts end up sharing an unseen link even though they may have a relatively great distance between them.

  It seems like fantasy, doesn’t it? But believe me, it’s a real thing.

  This is most easily imagined as a photon of light being split (via a special type of beam splitter) such that each corresponding half can be affected in ways that affect the other. Quantum entanglement has already been experimentally verified both at the subatomic level as well as at the macroscopic level using two small diamonds.

  This is a very active area of research in academic circles today. I would
greatly appreciate it if any of my readers with the proper background and wherewithal would kindly advance the concept. Because I want one of these rings.

  About the Author

  I am an Army brat, a polyglot, and the first person in my family born in the United States. This heavily influenced my youth by instilling in me a love of reading and a burning curiosity about the world and all of the things within it. As an adult, my love of travel and adventure has driven me to explore many exotic locations, and these places sometimes creep into the stories I write.

  I hope you’ve found this story entertaining.

  - Mike Rothman

  You can find my blog at: www.michaelarothman.com

  Facebook at: www.facebook.com/MichaelARothman

  And on Twitter: @MichaelARothman