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Artifact of Creation: The Awakening: The Awakening, #1
Artifact of Creation: The Awakening: The Awakening, #1
Artifact of Creation: The Awakening: The Awakening, #1
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Artifact of Creation: The Awakening: The Awakening, #1

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A hidden power born of ancient bloodlines. One Journey One Fate One Destiny...

After his home is invaded by mercenaries, Asher is forced to run for his life with the Artifact of Creation. Alone, desperate, and afraid Asher must learn to harness the power of the Awakening, an ancient magic born from the bloodlines of mankind's predecessor race.

Will Asher be able to unleash the Awakening and save his family? 

What are the mysterious Artifacts of Creation and why do mercenaries seek to obtain these fabled relics?

Download now, and find out in this gripping science fiction fantasy anthology.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 1, 2017
ISBN9781386208136
Artifact of Creation: The Awakening: The Awakening, #1

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    Book preview

    Artifact of Creation - D JAMES LARSEN

    Prologue

    The silhouette of the dark mid-night sky hung in silence over the ancient Temple Anin’Nar.  The Temple stood on an alcove of rock that jutted from the ground below, surrounded by dense forests of massive trees and vegetation. On either side of the alcove, large waterfalls cascaded downward, glistening from the waning light of the stars. The water disappeared in clouds of mist that hung heavy over the valley below.

    For centuries, the Temple Anin’Nar stood as a holy shrine to the ancient Order of the Awakened, an order long since forgotten to the world of mankind. The legacy of the Awakened was retold in stories of myth and legend, most doubted they ever existed. The stories told that for centuries, the Awakened protected the four races of mankind from a darkness that threatened the world. They prevailed against many horrors with their fabled power and strength. Yet any memory of their deeds of valor and honor, had all but vanished, along with the memory of the Temple Anin’Nar.  But unlike the Awakened, the temple still stood as majestically as it had in its former years of glory, though the ages had worn on its walls. Its shimmering white walls, became grayed from years of dust and neglect. Thick vines grew around it accompanied by brush and soil. And yet there it remained, in the midst of the Forgotten Valley.

    Shrouds of shadow lingered about its courtyard of stone that lined the perimeter of the temple. On either side of the cobble pathways within the courtyard, were statues of angels, each bent over as if blessing those visitors who would enter the temple. Beyond the statues, leaves from nearby trees quivered against the approaching wind. Rain began to fall in thin sheets, spattering lightly on the temple grounds. In moments, the light pattering’s grew to torrential sheets of rain accompanied by loud clasps of thunder.

    A lone man scurried across the temple grounds and onto the wide path that led to the main entrance of the forbidding structure. A hand reached out from within the man’s rain-soaked cloak and rattled a massive metal knocker attached to the door of the temple. The knocked thudded dully against the wooden door, its echo lost in the sound of the storm. Overhead, lightening continued to flash, briefly lighting the sky and then returning to darkness. A small sliding window opened just beneath the metal knocker. A man appeared at the opening.

    Sir? What is your business? The guard asked gruffly, obviously upset that his sleep was disturbed. The man in the rain-soaked cloak leaned forward to speak.

    It is urgent. I seek an audience with the Archon herself. The man said with a weak whisper. The man looked tired and worn ragged, perhaps from weeks of traversing through rough terrain in search of Anin’Nar

    Who sent you? The guard asked. No one knows of this place.

    Please, my business is my own. I seek the Archon.

    The guard paused and studied the man a moment longer. Fine, your name please.

    The man hesitated to answer, then decided there was no harm in revealing his name. Its...Lyle... of Umberlee. A brief smile crossed his face, a smile born of unsurety.

    The guard closed the sliding window. In moments the door creaked open, just wide enough for the small framed man to slip through. The man stepped inside and into the shelter of the temple. The sound of falling rain continued to clatter outside of the temple walls but became muffled when the guard shut the door.

    Wait here, The guard said and hurried down the candle lit corridor.

    Lyle peered about the entrance of the temple. Shadows cast from the flickering light of nearby candles danced upon the walls. In the

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