My book is Eiriaoloth, an epic fantasy through the beautiful and lush land, soon to be ruined by the rising flood and the central conquest of the Sword. The Destroyer is coming, ready to clasp Elvonar in his claws. Who can stop him now?
Certainly not the meek inhabitants of Fornitas, or even the more powerful Guardians. The doom marches on, unchecked. But the Redeemer is still there, and Elvonar shall not fall while He still breaths. The question is, how long will that be?
Far away lie three islands, each home to a powerful force. Avanois contains a horrifying powerful dragon species called the Censarion who are corrupted Guardians who are supposed to have guarded the Pillars of Eiriaoloth and became traitors. Arinonia is the home to the Arinonians, a powerful dragon species who lives to help others and fight the Censarion The Iron Throne, home to the Sorcerer Pair.
Elvonar is a cluster of islands in a giant sea. Far across the waves lie other island clusters, the Ice Realm, the Water Realm, Elvonar the Fire Realm, Stone Realm, and one mystery island that has yet to be named by me. For each island cluster there is one main Guardian responsible to contain evil as best as the Guardian might with the help of that island’s wizard. And somewhere, buried deep beneath the waves accessible only to Guardians or dragons, lies a mysterious weapon that corrupts Guardians ruins kingdoms, destroys planets, and is ultimately out to conquer Elvonar, with or without the Destroyer’s help.
Prelude
Far away in Elvonar, where knowledge and words were few, where evil was rampant, where massive waves covered entire continents, a new race arose in the land, servants of the True, and they wielded control over water and fire, ice and earth, air and rock.
These were the Guardians.
The Guardians’ work was in vain, even within their one most sacred task—protecting the valley of Eiriaoloth, keeping it safe from the rampaging hordes of evil ones who sought to destroy it, the one valley of a last hope. For the water wished to invade the land, flooding it and taking it for its own. Something deeper and darker moved in the water, just as something light and holy called the Dragon Master, in his strength, to create the Pillars to stop it. These Pillars were given power and might to stop the Sea and strength to defend all Elvonar, saving it from destruction. But these Pillars could not protect themselves. So it came about that the one Destroyer found the valley, for many of the Guardians had become corrupt and no longer wished to serve the Dragon Master or the Three. They ruined the Pillars, driving the Dragon Master far away, where he would not bother them any longer. The ancient runes, which had kept the force of the Sea at bay, fell silent, needing someone to protect and utter them, and were ruined for their purpose. The corrupt Guardians flocked to the source of this evil in the Sea, surrounding it with protectors, and the evil began its so longed-for conquest of the world by darkness and water. It would reach even the highest mountains at its full completion, drowning the world forever, ending the King’s people and their Hope. But the Redeemer would not allow His world to be destroyed in such a manner, and He descended upon and scattered the Guardians, transforming this evil into a mere weapon, an implement to be used in the hands of others, as it had once tried to control others.
But this evil was far from gone, and though the Guardians who had stayed true watched and waited, hoping for aid from the Dragon Master who had appointed them, the evil rose again and began sending forth its foul influence once more, even to the extent of poisoning the minds of some of the villagers. These became the Sorcerers. They bent forbidden arts to their will, these Sorcerers, and some used it to build mighty lairs far away for themselves. Others stayed in the villages, putting more and more innocent souls into their sway, daily growing ever and ever more powerful, to spread their power over all of humanity and establish their evil reign.
The turning of the seasons became erratic, and the land cold in one dominion and hot in another, so that no travel was assuredly in either summer or winter. But one dark area locked into being forever cold, forever wintered, surrounding Avanois, where the Censarion dwelt. The land became ruinous, never consistant and never entirely correct in their pattern, while the sea slept and waited, biding its time and helping its evil master. It swallowed all ships that attempted to cross its wide depths, keeping the villagers contained in the island of Elvonar.
Thus begins this tale.
I think I’d like to put the first chapter or a little less of my book here, on this page. Please, use the contact me page to tell me what you think of my idea.