appearing as comets streaking across the sky; sentient magical
artifacts call to the minds of men: calling with images and promises
of power from Wild Worlds. Massive and strange they hold gigantic
monsters and wonders that are beyond the scope of the imaginations of
the fearless Tribe of warriors that dare to magically travel to them!
Pillus tried his best not to drop the heavy buckets of water, the wooden rod holding them digging into his shoulders, his back burning painfully as he trudged up the steep hill towards his master’s estate dominating the skyline on the hill top above. “I’ll be WHIPPED if I don’t get back on time!” He thought to himself in anxiety, stumbling distractedly, both buckets sliding to the right tipping his slight form over to plop down on his backside.
He sat there beginning to cry, watching helplessly as the water from the buckets ran down the hill, thinking: “great, now I’m gonna get the worst lashing by my master that I’ve gotten in all fourteen sunstrokes of my life!” He wiped his running nose with the back of his thin bony arm as he hugged his knees to himself sitting where he had fallen in the dirt feeling like giving up completely.
Then, suddenly he saw beautiful blue light reflecting in the tiny pools of water left in the buckets, frozen in mid sniffle in shock as he stared at it; his eyes widening as he spun around to stare at the late afternoon sky. There, plummeting through the cloudy sky was a streaking ball of liquid sapphire blue fire, lighting up the clouds sporadically as it blazed toward the ground. Pillus rose to his feet, absently dusting off the burlap rags the noble kids made him wear as he started running down the hill; his dark violet eyes locked on it; the water he was supposed to be fetching for his master completely forgotten.
There was a small plume of blue fire as the fireball slammed into the ground, half a league a way, near where he remembered the ice rapids to be. Taking a deep gulping breath of air in preparation, he broke into a loping run; his growing excitement giving him an intense adrenaline rush as his short brown hair whipped around wildly in the wind. He concentrated on nothing but the rhythmic sound of his gasping breaths as he forced his burning legs to keep churning, feeling exhilaration for the first time in his meek and dreary life.
The hundred span high Kalemian vines streaked by, looming overhead in a thick interwoven canopy, leaving glaringly bright shafts of yellowish white sunlight streaming down through sporadic gaps as he pressed on; beginning to feel his heart pounding in his temples as his body screamed at him to stop and regain his breath. He checked his position, using the towering glacial mountains to his left as a landmark, all locked in ice even in the height of summer. Suddenly he stumbled over a rock as out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of an orb of pulsating white light off to his right.
Slamming into the ground with a high pitched shriek, he sat up moaning spitting out a mouthful of dirt, his dark purple colored eyes locking on the orb immediately. He jumped to his feet his wounds forgotten in growing excitement as he ran over, stumbling up to stand over it; the light beginning to fade: revealing a beautiful pearly white locket.
It lit up the ground around, giving off its own soft white glow, just barely visible in the diminishing daylight within the thorn patch that it lay in. He reached in excitedly cursing in pain and anger as one of the thorny vines whipped out and wrapped around his arm, tightening viciously.
He screamed in pain as he tried to rip his arm back, the thorns sinking deeper into his arm, staring at the locket, appearing blurred through his tears; his brow furrowing in determination. Shrieking in growing agony he reached down as quickly as he could and snatched up the locket with his other hand, jerking it back in fear as more thorns reached for it. He gasped in surprise as the vines surrounding the arm holding the locket pulled away as if injured; the locket suddenly beginning to glow more intensely in his clutched fist: turning his hand a warm red color.
He stared wide eyed down at the luminescent piece of jewelry, holding it up to his other arm and watching in amazement as the thorns uncoiled, slithering away leaving him staring down at it, completely oblivious as blood pumped from his arm through the gaping holes covering it. He reached up and placed the locket around his neck, swaying dizzily from loss of blood; leaving bloody hand marks on the pristine chain as he ran his fingers over the casing for a moment before carefully opening it. His gaze became glassy as if only half awake as the swirling bluish white light within reflected in his eyes. Completely forgotten was the streaking ball of blue fire which had brought him to the vine forest in the first place as he stared down mesmerized, the soft white light coming from the locket growing stronger as unnoticed to him; the wounds covering his arm slowly healed closed.
of well known novelists that came before him including, J.R.R
Tolkien, Mary Stewart, Raymond E. Feist, C.S. Lewis, Robert Jordan,
Elizabeth Hayden and Frank Herbert. The biggest influences on his
style were Terry Brooks and Terry Goodkind. He has drawn inspiration
for his novels from other areas as well including, animated shows and
inspired by ancient Celtic legends about Werebeasts that stalked the
forests of the Scottish Highlands on the full moon. His newly
released novel, Chaos:Worlds Beyond Book one of the Reflections of
Infinity Saga is deeply inspired by Ancient Greek Mythology and Lore.
His works contain endearing characters that always have something
special and unique that helps them survive in the brutal and
unrelenting Worlds that he creates.