A Wizard's War - Prologue. Prologue

The sun burned a fiery red as it dipped low upon the horizon, bathing the countryside below in a crimson light. Lord Byron stood upon the edge of the drop and surveyed the unsuspecting town below with eyes that could dissect and analyze the smallest details. A servant stood nearby trembling, hoping to be near at hand in a moment but also hoping to go unnoticed so as not to fall under the Lord’s cold, calculating gaze. Lord Byron was fully clad in black armor with menacing spiked shoulders and gauntlets. His pale, stern face was marked by the bloody handprint of his latest sacrifice and his long silver hair fluttered ever so slightly in the breeze. He was the embodiment of everything detestable and wrong in the world and his hollow gaze had fallen upon a new target.

“My lord,” a hooded figure emerged from the nearby tent, “Our plans are in motion, we will be fully prepared to attack at dawn.”

Auren Qualls was a powerful sorcerer who had traveled with Lord Byron since the beginning of his reign of terror. The long gray robe and hood were the symbols of his infernal order as well as the many wicked charms and chains that hung from around his neck. Qualls was indifferent to human life and served powerful demons that gave him unnatural abilities and prolonged his life.

“Why wait?” Lord Byron rasped in his gravelly, surprisingly deep baritone voice, “Already someone is on their way to warn the unsuspecting town below.”

“What?” Qualls was legitimately surprised, “Why did the stones not augur this betrayal?”

“We are not the only ones with purpose here,” Lord Byron finally turned and settled his gaze squarely upon his servant who dropped the plate of food he had been holding.

“You and some others have friends and family down there, don’t you?”

“Please, my lord,” the servant stuttered and fell to his knees beseechingly.

“Can you not see that my actions are beyond that of mere mortals? The pointless lives of your families are inconsequential in the vast flow of eternity. Yet still you defy my power!”

“This lowly servant is responsible?” Qualls almost recoiled in surprise at how he could not have seen this coming.

“With a little help,” Lord Byron moved swiftly and grasped the servant by the collar, tore open his tattered garments and exposed the hidden talisman that hung around the neck. Bright light that only Qualls could see was emitting from the talisman and he had to look away. Byron pulled the chain until it snapped and crushed the talisman beneath his boot. Again, there was a reaction that only Qualls could experience a brief rush of energy that left aches in his bones.

“Magic!” Qualls gasped.

“It is no matter,” Lord Byron chuckled as he turned his back and walked back toward the cliffs edge, “I could smell the fear and treachery on this stupid boy from the moment we arrived here.”

The servant saw his chance and pulled the small dagger at his waist and charged Byron, ready to plunge the sharp point into his master’s back just between the weak points of the armor plate. Faster than his eye could track, the servant watched in horror as Byron moved in a quick sidestep and there was a singing of steel in the air. The servant’s momentum propelled him over the side of the cliff, and he landed hard on his back on a rock some 10 feet below. The servant could scarce believe he was alive and wanted to get up and run, but his body was not responsive. He looked down and saw that only his torso had fallen from above and his lower half was now only blood and entrails. He was not long for this world.

Lord Byron sheathed his bloody sword and let the steel absorb his latest victim’s blood. He turned back to Qualls and issued the order to attack at once.