A Scholar's Journey: The Divine Tempest
A Scholar’s Journey: The Divine Tempest is a no-holds-barred fantasy brawl. It begins when the God of Justice and Retribution opens The Abyss and unleashes a vengeful demon upon the mortal realm of Therra. Now it is up to scholar Penndarius Greyson and his tormented protector, martial artist Soren Luna Mortalitas, to stop a crisis that would send shockwaves through the very fabric of creation. In addition, Penndarius is waging an internal battle with a disembodied presence attempting to possess his mind. The two heroes must avoid death or capture, but there is a catch: They have only one day to solve a riddle older than history before a dark host of unstoppable demons is released into the world. The Divine Tempest includes warring factions, betrayal and redemption, and of course, Herrick Erickson-Brigl's trademark: epic fight scenes. This is the lean, hard-hitting first installment in a series that follows Penndarius’s growth as the avatar of the God of Creation and Soren’s reclamation of his lethal family’s humanity. Purchase A Scholar's Journey: The Divine Tempest on Amazon.Our excerpt:
Azlea
pushed her way through the five guardsmen.
"What are you
doing?" Daymion snarled. "Leave the fighting to the men. I will kill
you later, girl!" he said with a snarl.
"You pompous
chauvinist bigots are all alike," Azlea replied with confidence. "Fenmanoth
kazmodooon!" she
intoned.
A light glow that
matched her violet hair appeared around her body, and she held out her hand,
palm up, and continued. "Bound by ash, brought by fate, guardian of the
sacred nine’s fire gate, I call on you, my ally forevermore," she chanted. "Great kirin Cerberi,
prove your oath to our contract, and grant fire and doom to bear forth toward
my foes!”
The aura grew
stronger behind her and took the form of a creature that was just outside the
material world. It stalked around her with its eyes held on the approaching
assassins with a glare of malicious intent. It was
akin to a dog, with charred fur and molten flows of lava that traced its skin
like veins. Its eyes and mouth sent out licking flames, and its teeth glowed
like white-hot coals.
The
energy from her hair seemed to grow in intensity, as well, and whipped about
like tongues of purple flame. "Ember staff!" she cried aloud and
culminated the spell with a loud thoom! that emanated outward with a shockwave of violet
flame and charcoal. The image of the creature disappeared and left behind
falling ash in its place.
On her
upraised palm, flickering flames of faery fire extended upward. They curled in
on one another and left behind a solid volcanic rock that glowed white hot at
its center with an obsidian outer shell. Within the staff, violet-colored
molten lava moved and flowed at its core.
The
staff grew and grew until it was her height. She performed a test swing with
her weapon, and it left a trail of ash and faery fire in its wake that sparked
with the heat.
"When
they sent an ambassador for negotiations with the warlike rahliens and the
feral anthras, did you think they would send the weak and useless? The kind of
woman that only your narrow minded fantasies could imagine?" she asked
with an excited, confident smile. "They sent their best—a battle
magus!"
The guardsmen
behind her seemed to rally at her power. The seven assassins charged, while Daymion
hung back. He edged himself around to the side.
"I will handle
this," said Azlea as she turned and pointed toward Penndarius.
"Protect him!" she commanded the guardsmen.
"Yes,
ma'am," one of the men responded. Although the scholar’s plight was beyond
the five of them, and they did not understand why, without hesitation all five
took up a circular formation around Penndarius, Lark, and Draven.
"What is
happening?" Draven whimpered.
Daymion circled his
seven assassins and angled himself toward Penndarius. Stealthily he unsheathed
a sword identical to his troop's weapons and quickly hid it under his cloak to
prevent the light of dusk from glinting off his blade and giving away his
intentions.
Azlea met the
charging assassins head on. The one in the lead attempted to attack her with
his serrated sword. She saw an opening and delivered a horizontal strike, with
the end of her staff thrust into his blade. It blasted the weapon back with an
explosive force that displayed its fiery properties, which in turn opened the
assassin to a follow up strike to his side. A cloud of ash was left in the
staff’s wake.
The volcanic power
of her attack ripped into the assassin's side and threw him ten paces away like
a rag doll. His feet skidded to a stop along the carved stone of the platform,
and he rushed back in. Azlea then swiftly blocked a return thrust with a deft
downward parry of her staff, which she then quickly flicked upwards into the
assassin's face.
The impact from her
second assault snapped the assassin's head back violently, and he flipped head
over heels to the edge of the platform. From just the two hits, ash and cinders
fluttered in the air. The immediate area around Azlea was covered with soot.
The five remaining assassins circled her and attempted to find openings without
regard for their fallen comrades.
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