Demonic Passion - Book One - Master Passion Greed

Chapter One Part One – The Poet1

                                               We are the music makers,
                                       And we are the dreamers of dreams,
                                           Wandering by lone sea breakers,
                                           And sitting by desolate streams;
                                         World-losers and world-forsakers,
                                          On whom the pale moon gleams:
                                       Yet we are the movers and shakers,
                                            Of the world for ever, it seems.2

      Sitting in his high-backed, golden throne with a goblet of fine wine clutched in one claw like hand King Thendil looked down on one of his advisor's haughtily. “And why,” he begins with scorn in his voice, “Would I wish to stop the war?” he asks intending his adviser to be put down, however, his adviser clearly isn't deterred and answers the King's question with exasperation.
“As I have already informed you Master,” his voice laced with sarcasm on the last word. “There is talk among the rangers of a powerful Lord returning south after the Trojim wars, it is my opinion that we should wait until he has left the Imperium before we begin the war with Dirtren.” Thendil sneered.
“Do you actually think or are you truly stupid enough to believe that I care what your opinion is?” Without waiting for an answer the King continued. “The war will begin as planned and if this Lord dares to interfere in my realm then I will have him executed.” his adviser looked ready to protest, “And you will die with him if you dare speak against me again!” Two burly guards armed with war-axes stepped forward and seized the adviser under each arm before carrying the struggling figure out the vast, echoing hall.
As the guards returned inside and prepared to close the tall stone doors there were footsteps outside and a figure appeared in the doorway. Thendil raised one thick eyebrow as he recognized the muddy, stained rangers clothes and the leather boots which now stood on his immaculately clean floor, dripping mud everywhere. Matted hair clung to the rangers lean face but his eyes stood out like sparkling gems; they were a brilliant emerald green and filled with excitement as he walked forwards with hurried steps before kneeling to the King then rising again to look Thendil in the eye.
“Well?” the King snapped in the worst of moods now that his adviser had had doubts about his plans. “What do you want?” It was the rangers turn to raise an eyebrow but this time the effect was more stunning, it made him look like a hawk rather than, when Thendil had done it, a slug.
“I merely came to inform you that Lord Maelkith has entered the Imperium through the Dark Forest in the north.” Thendil took a sip of his wine, not bothering to ask the ranger if he would like something to drink after his journey.
“Good, I can send out soldiers to meet him then.” Thendil summoned his guards with a sharp snap of his fingers. “Regin, take five of your best soldiers and ride out to the Dark Forest to meet this Maelkith. Bring him back here straight away, by force if necessary.” Regin, head of the Knights, bowed low to him and exited the room.
“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I don't think that sending knights to meet Lord Maelkith is very wise. If he so wished, the Lord could slaughter them with a single stroke.” the Rangers eyes twinkled and he spoke with such high reverence that it made Thendil snarl.
“Remember, ranger your loyalties lie with me not with some lord from the south.” he said clutching the glass so tight it might shatter at any given time.
“Darkovia.” When Thendil looked confused he continued, “Lord Maelkith comes from Darkovia.”
“Actually I was born in Judan, I'm only Lord of Darkovia, it's not where my true loyalties lie.” A voice speaking from the shadows made both the ranger and Thendil jump. Out of the darkness and into the light stepped a young man. His long black hair was combed through and tied back so as to keep it out his face, he wore the attire of a ranger but it was comparatively clean. Over the top of his dark green shirt a black cape was fastened, it nearly reached the floor and was made out of thin, fine silk. Thendil stared at the boy. He was expecting someone a little older to be the hero of the Trojim wars, not some runt who was barely out his teen years.
The rangers eyes went wide and he dropped into a low bow, Lord Maelkith rolled his eyes. “Dear lord, no bowing!” he reprimanded. “And here I was thinking rangers would be more relaxed instead of bowing, stuttering lordly people.” Thendil took this as his chance to speak.
“And who might you be?” he asked even though he already knew the answer, what he didn't expect was the boy to drop into a sweeping bow and smile broadly at him.
“Raoku Maelkith, Lord of Darkovia and when I get the chance - Poet and I wont say 'at your service' because I'm at nobodies service save for my own.” Thendil stared dumbly at him for a moment before sneering.
“Well then, Raoku, where are you heading to?” he needed to get this Lord off his land as soon as possible so he could start the war.
“Me? I am headed for Dirtren, I have a long-lost friend to greet once more.” Thendil resisted the urge to growl, if Maelkith was heading for Dirtren then he would have to hold the war for at least a month so that this Lord didn't join the enemy. A plan suddenly formulated in his mind.
“Who is this friend? I could send riders out to fetch them, it would save you an unnecessary journey.” Raoku laughed slightly.
“Thank you for your offer but I must greet this friend personally, you would find it difficult to find them.” Without another word, Lord Raoku Maelkith bowed and swept out the room in a flurry of black silk. The ranger followed soon after leaving Thendil to mull over everything he'd heard. This Lord was going to be a problem, he was sure of it.3

Chapter One - Part Two – The Islander  4

An old man by a sea-shore at the end of the day gazed out at the horizon with sea winds in his face. The island was tempest-tossed with seasons all the same, the anchorage was unpainted and there was a ship without a name. The man had a cigar in one hand and he was watching the waves dance and crash, waiting for the next ship to be seen on the horizon line. The sound of boots on gravel made him glance around and he saw his eldest son walking across the rocky sea shore towards him.
“Father?” He asked, staring out at the sea rather than looking his father in the eye.
“Yes Tuomas?” He knew what was coming, his son wanted to go somewhere, it was always the same, he would bite his lip, look out at the sea and be very polite.
“Um, could I possible go to Dirtren?” His father spun round with wild eyes.
“Dirtren? But that's miles away. More than three days ride!” Tuomas looked down and shuffled his feet but remained quiet. “Why would you want to go there?”
“I have an old friend to meet and greet.” He muttered almost silently hoping his father would miss it, no such look.
“An old friend? Who?” He asked sharply, “Is it a lass?”
“No. Do you remember Vanir?” His father nodded.
“Him? I thought you two didn't get along.” Tuomas sighed.
“We don't, but Raoku wants to meet us both at once and we agreed before he told us who the other was.” Tuomas said with a tired look in his eyes that only came with age, his father sighed.
“I suppose you can go, but why do you have to meet with them anyway? I hadn't heard a word about Raoku until three days ago.”
“Because Raoku is the Poet, I am the Islander and Vanir is the Prince.” His father looked surprised before laughing.
“You'd still need four more people, remember. Within a circle of three will stand a circle of four.”
“I know, but Raoku says he knows who the other four are.” He said before whispering another line of the poem, “Children of the wind all, and yet none. I never understood that poem.” He said sadly.
“No one really does son.” Tuomas smiled.
“Raoku does. He says that the circle of four will always be inside the circle of three because without the three outer elements the four inside elements can't exist. You can't have wind without air. You can't have earth without water. You can't have fire without spirit. The second part, the children of the wind part, means that everyone is a child of the wind but unless we embrace that inescapable fact there’s no telling what will happen.” He sighed again. “It's confusing and I still don't understand it.”
“He understands it because he's the Poet, maybe he'll explain it properly to you when you meet.”
“So I can go?”
“Yes. I already said that you could.” Tuomas grinned before hugging his father and sprinting back off to the Lighthouse. 5

Chapter One – Part Three – The Prince6

“I don't know why you're answering his summons.” Thor muttered as his son, crown prince Vanir, prepared his horse for the journey.
“Because father, Raoku knows things about the Circle that no one else does.” He turned to look at the king of Terim with an eye brow raised. “You don't actually think that he was fighting in the Trojim Wars do you? He was scouting the caves for artifacts and I'm guessing that he's found one by the fact that he finally wants us to meet up.”
“I just think there's something dangerous about this.” Vanir laughed scornfully.
“Of course it's dangerous, Raoku is involved. Walking down the road turns into a dangerous adventure with him, he'll either start a war with the Faerie folk, be shot with a poison dart, end up getting chased by an old woman with some fish or dive into the lake from the tallest tower of the city.”
“But-”
“Calm down. I'll be back before you know it and besides, as soon as I see the money and gold, they're dead.” Both father and son laughed at this. “Now, it's time for me to go.” 7

Chapter One – Part Four – The Spell Binder8

Tarja Lee was a girl that didn't exist. She grew up in an orphanage with twenty other children but all the time it was like she was invisible. Currently walking down the near empty back alleys in the dusk it was no different.
“Hey! Give me your money or die.” She raised her eyebrows and backtracked to the alley she'd just left. A young boy and his gang had an old man pushed up against the wall and were fumbling for his money.
“I swear, I don't have any money with me.” He begged and Tarja stepped forward into the candle light, making her presence known.
“What do we have here?” Three of the boys made to attack her but she gracefully stepped back, creating a barrier of fire with a wave of her hand.
“Wh-what are you?” The lead boy asked falling away from the old man who stared at Tarja with a small smile.
“I am the rain of a thousand flames!” She snapped, making them squeak like mice and sprint away. Allowing the fire to die she turned to the old man to find him smiling at her.
“I wondered when you'd turn up.” Tarja raised one elegant eye brow.
“You've been expecting me?”
“Oh yes. I assume you know the story of the Circle?” She nodded silently. “Well then, I must tell you, the Circle of three is meeting.” Her eyes went wide.
“Excuse me?”
“The Poet, the Islander and the Prince. All of them are meeting to discuss plans to find the Inner circle. The circle of four. You are the Fire Child.” There was silence save for the distant sounds of a cart being pulled up the hill.
“Where are they meeting?”
“Dirtren. The Dragons Head pub in three days. Will you go?” He asked as she turned away.
“I will, but if they prove to be a group of treasure hunting fools then I wont make my presence known.” She walked away into the night without another word, black hair trailing behind her like a death veil.