Gates of Dawn

Chapter One It shall therefore come to pass that the Chosen Ones shall suffer individual agonies regarding the use of their gifts. He in his blood, and she in her mind. For it is only through such terrors that the true art of the craft shall be revealed to them. page 1,016, Chapter I of the Vigors Tristan of the House of Galland smiled slightly to himself as he looked down at his twin sister Shailiha. He was watching her sleep, just as he had for so many days now. They were in the Redoubt of the Directorate, the secret haven where the many consuls of the Redoubt, the lesser wizards of Eutracia, had been trained. It was also the place where he had first reluctantly admitted to both his now-dead father and the murdered Directorate of Wizards the secrets he knew regarding the Caves of the Paragon. He had found that day so painful and difficult, but now he wished with all his heart that he could have it back. The happy times, he thought. Before all the madness began. Sometimes during his quieter moments, his weary mind still tried to convince his heart that everything that had so recently occurred had been long ago. As if year after year of his life had already passed. In reality it had only been several months. But because so much had changed, it still sometimes felt as if it were all a dream. No, he told himself as he continued to look down into Shailiha's beautiful face. Not a dreama nightmare. One from which Shailiha is finally waking up. Running a hand through his dark hair, he uncoiled his long legs and walked the short distance to where Morganna, Shailiha's baby daughter, lay sleeping in her crib. The baby girl had been born both healthy and alert, despite the horrific circumstances of her arrival into the world. Her birth had come on the same day that both the Coven of Sorceresses and Kluge, their taskmaster, had been killed by Tristan. She had been born in Parthalon, before Wigg, Geldon, Shailiha, Morganna, and Tristan had finally returned to Eutracia. A tear came to one eye as he thought of the one he'd had to leave behind. The droplet gathered slowly in size until it finally overcame the lower lid and rolled down his cheek. My son, my firstborn, did not survive to come back with us. For that I shall be forever sorry. Nicholas, forgive me. Taking a quick breath he looked up at the ceiling, remembering what the palace above had been like before the horrible onslaught of the Coven and their Minions of Day and Night. The palace had once been his home, and full of gaiety, life, and love. He shook his head, staggered by the madness of it all and the confounding fact that he was now the new lord of the Minions. They were the winged army of over three hundred thousand that had butchered his family, the wizards of the Directorate, and much of the populace of Eutracia. The incredibly potent force still resided in Parthalon, awaiting his orders. So much has changed, he mused. And I must change with it. Looking up from the crib and into a mirror that hung upon the wall, he saw a man who had matured, who had killed and would kill again, if need be, to protect his family. He also saw a man who had discovered many secrets about himself, but also knew that there were so many more to learn. He took in the longish dark hair, deep blue eyes, hollow cheeks, and what some would call the rather cruel mouth. Along with black breeches, he wore the same knee boots and worn leather vest that laced across his bare chest in the front that he had worn daily for the last several months. The dreggan, the Minion sword he had been forced to use to kill his father, lay in its black, tooled scabbard across the back of his right shoulder, beside his throwing knives. The familiar yet at the same time unknown figure in the mirror stared back at him with a calmness that was born of a certain, hardNewcomb, Robert is the author of 'Gates of Dawn', published 2004 under ISBN 9780345448958 and ISBN 0345448952.