Jun 17

Solomon: Interlude 1

Category: The Solomon Saga

Time for some information and updates relevant to Solomon.

First of all, it feels good to be back in Jacob’s world, sharing his story. I think I’ll be able to keep up the pace over the summer.

Secondly, I’d like to emphasize that everything I post for Solomon is very much first draft. The book, once completed will undergo extensive revision and rewrite. One of the things that will be changing is how flashy the magic is. I’ll be going back and refitting the magic to be much, much more subtle. However, for now to keep everyone interested, I’ll probably keep the high-octane flashy fights. Just some FYI, I guess.

Thanks for reading.

-The Drewcifer

Story:

Solomon: Interlude 1

Drip.

Blood ran slowly along the surface of the altar, falling onto the stone floor of the chamber with an irregular rhythm.

The Baron smiled. The sacrificial victim had been one of his Knights. He had earned his current position by questioning the wisdom of the Baron’s plan. The Baron only allowed doubt when he consulted his Knights. Volunteering misgivings was not tolerated. And so the errant Knight had been made an example of.

Drip.

His blood would power the very spell he had opposed. The irony of it delighted the Baron.

The Baron and his remaining Knights stood evenly spaced around the summoning circle chalked onto the stone floor. The Baron made eye contact with each one before speaking a single word.

“Begin.”

Drip.

The chanting began slowly and softly. The many voices chanted as one, gradually increasing in tempo and volume. As their voices reached a crescendo, suddenly all was silent.

Drip.

A wave of darkness emanated from the center of the circle, briefly blinding the participants and chilling them to their very souls. When sight returned, the Baron found that in the center of the summoning circle was what might have been a crouching man. Might have been, but for the fact that it was more like a man-shaped hole in reality. The creature was more than dark. It was nothingness. A formless and nameless evil given shape by the spell.

Drip.

“Rise and approach me, creature. Come to your master.”

Drip.

The thing rose and made its way to the edge of the circle at which the Baron was standing. It spoke in a voice just as terrible as its form. A low, rasping whisper that was clearly audible despite its volume. To every person around the circle, it sounded like the creature was whispering into his ear.

“I am ready to serve.”

Drip.

The Baron looked upon his handiwork appreciatively. The Knight to his right eyed the creature warily. “Shall we give it a name, my Lord?”

The Baron shook his head, never taking his eyes off the creature. “We shall let it choose its own name.”

“My Lord, is that wise? The creature is-”

A sharp gesture to the slowly dying Knight on the altar silenced him. The apprehensive Knight bowed his head. “Of course, my Lord. It is under your wisdom we fall. Forgive my foolish doubting.”

Drip.

The Baron smiled. “You are forgiven, but only because our sucess has me in such high spirits. Do not let it happen again.” He turned his attention back to the creature. “Now, what is your name?”

Drip.

The creature smiled. It was an awful sight, teeth terrifyingly white in the inky void of the being’s body. “You may call me

Drip.

Jack.”

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