Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
It was the setting of the fairy tales he’d been told as a young lord.
It was beautiful. But it was not his home!
“Olek, get up,” he ordered.
Panic flooded Lazaar’s brain while rage unfurled in his chest. Once again, his life and fate were being decided for him. He hadn’t asked to come here, well, to be thrown here, teleported, or whatever. Wherever here was.
As he waited for Oleksandr to get his wits about him, he focused on the strange sensations roaring through his core. Raw power and heat he’d never experienced and hadn’t known he possessed.
Lazaar was apparently far more powerful than he’d been led to believe, but he’d been cast away to a world that engaged the strongest, most evil part of him.
His vampire.
Lazaar took a deep breath, then another, but no number of extended exhalations calmed him.
He made his way—each step he took was like trudging through mud—to where his guardian stared over the side of the mountain at the largest mass of water Lazaar had ever seen.
Lazaar could see for miles in all directions. The world stretched, taunting him that no matter how far he ran, there was no end.
“The Mother and Titan of Spring have sent you to Tir Scáthanna, the Land of Three Suns, my lord. Ruled by the East Titan.” Oleksandr sighed. “This is where the Mother and the Vampire King believe you will be safest, where your good side, your father’s side, will reign supreme over the wicked passed to you from your mother.”
Titan of the East? Three suns.
“Come here, young master.” Oleksandr waved him over. “Look, I mean truly gaze on this land.”
“I’m looking, and it’s making me angry. I’m on a mountain over a hundred thousand feet in the sky.”
“We did make false claims that you were born an orphan.”
Lazaar didn’t believe it, not with how awful he felt.
“But we did not lie to you about the world. We harbored you from it. We disguised it in tall tales and stories you enjoyed around a bonfire.”
“But why?” he shouted, feeling like a betrayed fool.
Oleksandr touched his shoulder. “Because if you would’ve known that these places were real—the Arctic World, the Autumn Realm, or the Protective Phoenix Vale where Myst is from—you would have insisted on seeing them for yourself.”
“Of course I would. If I’m truly a direct descendant of the fire lord, the prince of a world, and a—what’d you call me?—tribrid, I should’ve been received in those worlds with an announcement and welcomed. I’ve done nothing evil to be denied that honor!”
Lazaar turned away. He didn’t even want to look at his guardian’s face lest he yell again, maybe even strike out. The urge was growing with each passing second. Now that he was away from Chessuven, he could feel darkness trying to saturate his blood.
The rage and thirst poisoning his insides had tripled since he landed and left him unable to think straight.
Myst. Myst, where are you?
His raptor hovered above him, using her camouflage to not alert Tir Scáthanna to their presence. At least not yet. Since Lazaar was supposed to be some great evil, he may not receive the welcome he wanted.
One thing Lazaar knew for sure was that he had to ignore the vampire nestled deep inside him.
Lazaar raced to the other side of the cliff—or blinked there because it only took seconds.
No matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t outrun his rage.
He plopped down, unable to believe all he saw.
Instead of massive oceans and waterfalls on this side, cobblestone streets winded past quaint cottages, each unique with magical blooms of rare flowers in their lawns and spilling from their open windows, growing before his very eyes.
He gaped at the thatched homes with intricate carvings etched in their wood walls deep inside hollowed tree trunks.
People of all ages and even species mingled in bustling markets with shops selling everything under the many suns, from exotic fruits to colorful clothes to enchanted trinkets.
“Olek, get over here, now,” he hollered.
His guardian had to see this.
The Shadow Realm he’d ruled was a drab, depressing world created by Hades himself compared to this.
A fountain with water glistening like diamonds sat at the heart of the community. Musicians and performers kept the large crowds entertained.
Their joy and laughter were so robust he could hear it from where he stood.
The village was huge and went on for many miles, its mystical atmosphere almost a comfort to his wounded soul. It was a place Lazaar would’ve loved to visit under different circumstances.
“I’m here, lord,” Oleksandr panted.
Who or what lives in that monstrosity way over there?
Lazaar pointed to a grand castle that sat in the far east. With his enhanced vision, he could see marble stone walls adorned with elaborate murals of the gods and goddesses.
“What is that?”
“It must be the titan’s grounds. And those are solar panels all over the roof. They allow—”