Le’Mar the omnipotent, the omnipresent, the omniscient…..
The Battle for Eldor’s Forest cost the world not only the elvin forest, but also every chance they had of standing up against the dark lord. The Southern Wolf tribes live defenceless in New Avalion, their walls shaken to the ground and the art of the elements forbidden. The mer-Kingdom was defeated in Avalendil, with no knowledge of where the survivors reside. And the elves have left for the Far Isles, leaving the ancient forest to the rule of Le’Mar’s new servant, Darcwulf.
And all across the land lies Le’Mar’s fog, his ever-present window to all that is happening on the land. The people of the earth have lived in relative peace in the two year’s since Shadowolf’s victory over Sonersaat the DragonRider, a victory that had almost cost him his life when he challenged Le’Mar thereafter. With no knowledge of where the hero escaped to and under the watchful gaze of Le’Mar and Darcwulf, the earth makes no move to retaliate against the dark lord.
It is to such circumstances that Shadowolf returns with powerful allies at his side. Determined to take back the world from Le’Mar’s clutches, he begins his quest for four powerful artefacts encrusted with the tomes of time. Entwined in this quest is his personal mission to find and reclaim those he loves and lost. Yet, the greatest undertaking he faces is to convince the world to fight for their freedom. This time, Shadowolf is taking the war to Le’Mar.
The Masaran Phenomenon approaches again, and the “Prophecy of the Sadgi” is upon them…
Shadowolf patted Mandy’s neck and looked over the land hidden by fog. He knew he would no longer see the fog once he was in it. Trimistus had taught him that much. He looked at the mottled staff and smiled.
“Well, Nelnar,” he said. “Time to take back to the land.”
“We have heard tell that you were of the time of Bentley,” Trimistus attempted. The two turned round and round as they watched for any sign of attack from her. “Fereya, as the others call you.”
“That is my name,” she conceded, “and that was my time.”
“We have come in search of an ancient artefact; a dagger that we believe befell you so long ago.”
Fereya stopped and snapped her head before his. The growl grew louder, but Trimistus held his ground, his Dragon Blade shining in the torch light.
“Yes, I have such a dagger with me, but I am afraid I cannot give it to you.”
“Cannot, or will not?” Lucian continued. Trimistus whispered his name, pleading quietly that he alter his tact. Yet Lucian stared up in defiance at the old dragon, not relenting his glare.
Darcwulf calculated, looking him up and down.
“I know you want the staff,” he finally said. “I’ve known for a long time. Le’Mar told me someone would come for it one day.”
“I don’t need the staff,” Shadowolf said, his eyes filled with sincerity, “I only need you.”
“So I am to be just another pawn!” he shouted, standing from his seat and walking around the desk to put his face near Shadowolf’s. The two staves were close to each other, curls of lights twisting around the timbers as they repelled each other. “Just another member of the infamous Shadow Clan.”
“The Shadow Clan is no more,” he said, wiping the spit off his face. “And rather a pawn for good than evil.”
“Matter of opinion,” Darcwulf said. “So take the staff.”
“I don’t want the staff,” he said again. Darcwulf tried to shove the staff into him, but Shadowolf stepped back. Darcwulf stared at him and then the staff, confusion covering his face.
“Well if it’s really me you want,” Darcwulf finally concluded, “come and get me.”
Le’Mar twisted to the left as he felt the man’s powerful attack, but he had been tricked. Shadowolf slammed into his body from the top, fire and lightning burning around him. The others on the field watched as the two hurtled to the earth in a raging chaos of powers, and then fell down as the powers exploded upon contact.
A great orb of power burst up from the place where they had landed and a second explosion broke out over everyone. Sand, water, fire and wind crashed over them and their screams went unheard in the tumult of the powers. Nighthale lay quietly for a long time, waiting for the land to calm down and finally rose to his feet with the few that had the strength to do so.
If anyone expected to see a crater in the earth from the impact once the dust had settled., they were sorely mistaken. The earth was ripped along the surface, jagged edges breaking the land where fine grass had once been. They saw two silhouettes on the land facing each other from a distance, standing strong as if they had never battled.
“Our time will come,” Shadowolf told Le’Mar, and then disappeared into the wind.
Chenesia heard footsteps on the leaves behind her and quickly spun around. The fairies left her arms and drifted to the unicorn’s blue head, floating around the horn briefly before landing softly on the long mane that ran along the neck.
The unicorn transformed. It reared up on its hind legs as the coat pulled in and became soft, blue skin. A purple dress dropped down her lovely, slender body as the forelegs became arms. Her hair dropped down over her shoulders, the fairies shining like bright crystals in her hair.
As beautiful as she was, Chenesia could not help but turn her attention to the pendant on her chest. It shimmered from the light of the fairies on a silver chain in the shape of a multi-coloured butterfly. Sorceress smiled at her observation and joined her on the bank of the rivulet.
“Darcwulf,” Shadowolf said, “try touching the bow.”
Darcwulf complied by moving forward and reaching out for the bow. As his skin was about to touch the crystal blue surface, his hand broke out in fire and he retracted his hand in pain. He hissed and held his hand as if it had been scorched. Eldor looked sidelong at Shadowolf in thought.
“Now you try,” Elgoth offered.
Fransiska moved forward and carefully reached for the bow, pulling her hand back twice in fear before grabbing it firmly. The crystal of the bow began to flow calmly as if it had become a river that passed into her hand. Her skin changed into water that flowed over her body until she was complete liquid standing amongst them.
“That power is beyond you, young boy.”
“It is now,” Shadowolf said, and finally said what he had waited so long to say. “But the angels have promised me the power of the Sadgi, and I will receive it on the rising of the sun two days from now.”
Le’Mar stood very, very still. He knew Shadowolf expected him to act in rage, and for a moment that was exactly what he wanted to do. How many times had he not passed the elemental tests and beseeched the elementëls to grant him the power of the Sadgi? And now they offered it to this young boy.
“My final test is one that you could never pass,” Shadowolf cut the silence
“And what is that?”
“To destroy the darkness within you,” he replied. “It is something you are incapable of due to your bond with it, and something I will do everything in my power to achieve.”
His words fell into the morning as if a knife has cut it off. Darcwulf raised his eyes at his brother, wondering at the interruption. His concern only worsened when he saw Shadowolf’s pupils light up with a soft yellow glow.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“Wake the others,” Shadowolf warned. “Tell the earth elementals to get ready. Le’Mar’s up to something. I can feel the earth shaking against his summons.I think the war is about to begin.”
Darcwulf did not feel it immediately, but something in the air was wrong. He rushed to instruct the conscious members of the Clan to wake the others, and then ran off to warn the other elementals.
Before he could get far, the land around Horlorn started quaking. Shadowolf pressed his palms on the ledge, closing his eyes as he raised his earthen powers. By the cracks and the noises behind him he realised that the hill was toppling down.
With his senses extended he could feel cracks develop in the foundations of Horlorn. Shadowolf strained his powers to match those of Le’Mar, but he knew it would not be long before he needed more Goudlems to join him. He gritted his teeth and jumped to the side as a rock from the hill crashed on the spot where he had been standing.”
“Where is your Bontu now?” Le’Mar continued to taunt him. He walked over to Shadowolf, taking a lock of hair in his hands and jerking it up until their eyes met. “You have raised them to defy me. It is because of you that they die now. Are you satisfied? Do you not feel joy at having accomplished your purpose?”
Shadowolf did not reply. His breathing became shallow as he drew his power into the core of his spirit. He closed his eyes and his life waned, removing any energy from his aura and body into his central life-force in his solar plexus.
“You are done, boy,” He laughed again and raised his hands to the dark sky…