About Legacy of Seven: A Guardian Rises:
The truth is much more complicated.
Zairoc, a dark wizard
Sir Francis, a benevolent wizard
Trick Mark, captain of the guard
and the construction robot CD-45.
Their destinies will collide at the city of Bastion. But concealed from everyone, a young woman holds the key to each of their fates.
Ondreeal has lived her whole life on the farm with her callous adoptive father. She longs to see the world and witness for herself the magical wonders that fill it—and she’ll soon get her wish, thrust into an adventure that carries her to heights she never dreamed possible, and to the depths of despair and loneliness. Ondreeal can never become the hero the world wants her to be.
But will she become the hero it needs?
Excerpt:
Aleenda shook her head, desperation rising in her voice. “No, the time for that has come and gone. I won’t have you throw your lives away. You must live. Do as I have asked you. Go!”
The crowd hesitated as one, unsure if they should leave their beloved Aleenda, light of Atlantia, mother of all that is good.
The young man raised his fist. “No, Aleenda. We will fight for you! We—”
Zairoc pressed a glowing red wand against his back.
The young man wailed in pain. Bursting into flame, he fell to ashes.
Zairoc dropped his cowl, bellowing out his command. “All die who raise their hands against me! Renounce Aleenda and live.”
The crowd stared in frozen horror.
Aleenda glared, pointing her glowing blue wand at Zairoc.
Moving deliberately Zairoc aimed the red wand at Aleenda like a foil, tensing his body, ready to fight.
The people in the crowd, immobilized until now, screamed and fled from him, terror etched on their faces, making Zairoc smile. To them, he was a wizard of great power, someone to fear. He would make certain their belief in magic and wizards endured, unwavering. The massive square emptied, leaving the two adversaries, Zairoc and Aleenda, staring at each other.
Aleenda shook her head and whispered. “Where are you, Frank?”
Zairoc glared, “He won’t come!”
With a deathly grin, he held his glowing red wand at the ready. Bright hope in Aleenda’s beautiful green eyes faded into despair. Zairoc wouldn’t have it any other way.
She shot a bolt of energy from her blue wand, which he easily deflected. She gritted her teeth, firing five more shots. He swatted each one away. His arms burned with pain, but he gave her a coy smile. He would rattle her cage, and if she didn’t die, he’d put her in one.
Aleenda shook her head, wild fear clear in her eyes. “I don’t want to fight you, Henry.”
“Could have fooled me. And I told you, don’t call me Henry. Zairoc was a misunderstood character, thought to be a villain, but really a good man who used what he could to make things better—just like me.”
Zairoc rose into the air.
Beneath him, horses galloped past, carrying soldiers with the crest of Zairoc marked clearly on their armour—two black dragons, their talons clutching a red wand at dead centre. Fires burned through medieval buildings, blocking streets as the citizens desperately tried to escape, their wails of despair carrying on the wind. Black smoke billowed up throughout the city and with it, the sweet scent of death that only he could bring.
A scream rang out from a mother with her daughter, fleeing from danger. Both fell to the stone street, mere feet away from the magical conflict. Two of Zairoc’s soldiers jumped off their horses, laughing as they stalked the woman.
“Away!” Aleenda flung her wand at the men.
They instantly disappeared.
Her mistake.
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About P.J. Flie:
P. J. Flie is an author and educator passionate about working with the next generation of artists. He holds a BFA in theatre, and works in all aspects of theatre production from acting coach to director, set builder, lighting designer, and stage manager. He started writing at the age of 10, focusing on honing this craft throughout school and at college. Hailing from Canada, where he currently resides, he continues to create stories.
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