Legacy of Dragonwand: Book 1 (Legacy of Dragonwand Trilogy) Read online

  Legacy of Dragonwand

  Book I

  Legacy of Dragonwand

  Book I

  By Daniel Peyton

  Copyright © 2016 by Daniel Peyton.

  All rights reserved.

  Legacy of Dragonwand: Book I

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

  The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of Cosby Media Productions.

  Published by Cosby Media Productions.

  www.cosbymediaproductions.com

  Cover art: Cosby Media Productions

  Edited: Tamar Hela

  ASIN: B01BLXQ4Z4

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1: SEARCHING FOR A WIZARD

  Chapter 2: DIVING RIGHT IN

  Chapter 3: UNEXPECTED DISCOVERIES

  Chapter 4: COURTS AND WIZARDS

  Chapter 5: BOOKS

  Chapter 6: THE WIZARD CODEX

  Chapter 7: SEARCHING

  Chapter 8: CAMPING UNDER THE STARS

  Chapter 9: THE ENCOUNTER

  Chapter 10: INTO STILLWATER

  Chapter 11: FINDING WIZARDS

  Chapter 12: DONNA

  Chapter 13: WIZARDS AMONG US

  Chapter 14: LEARNING FROM DONNA

  Chapter 15: TIME TO GO!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  MORE BOOKS BY DANIEL

  A teenage would-be wizard just wants to go to wizard school, but he finds himself on an epic quest instead...all the standard elements of a YA fantasy protagonist’s transformation into a hero - KIRKUS REVIEWS

  Prologue

  The earth-shaking bellow of a dragon caused Markus to jump to the ground in fear. Trembling all over, he cautiously lifted his head just as a golden dragon unleashed a volley of fire at an obsidian black dragon. The obsidian dragon shot back with greenish hellfire. It was so great, it exploded as far as Markus could see. He scrunched up his body in an attempt to avoid being burned alive.

  Markus looked up again to find himself in the eye of a firestorm; greenish black fire was mixing with yellow and orange fire. The ground vibrated hard under his feet, and the earsplitting screams of the dragons fighting was almost more than he could handle.

  At once, a huge black claw swooped down into the fires and scooped Markus up. The dark dragon held him so tight that he could barely breathe. The beast yelled out, “YOU HAVE LOST!”

  “HE WILL COME!” the golden dragon replied, and then swooped over the fires and came up fast on the obsidian dragon. The golden dragon grabbed its foe by the tail, then opened its maw to release a flurry of flames.

  Markus struggled for air and clenched his eyes closed as the light orange fire washed over him. Oddly, the world went cold and the feel of the claws around his ribs was gone.

  Markus shot up in his bed. He gasped a few times before he realized his body had not been clutched by a dragon. The sound of the battle seemed to still be in his ears, though the ringing faded quickly. Taking a few breaths to make sure his lungs still worked, his fear faded more quickly than the sounds in his head. It had been a terrible, traumatizing nightmare, just like the many others he’d had since his earliest childhood memories.

  “What time is it?” he mumbled to himself.

  Out of the nearest window, he could see that the rainstorm from last night had passed and the first hints of sunlight were illuminating the distant horizon. Morning wasn’t far off, and his father would be getting up soon to tend to the farm duties. If Markus was going to leave home, now was the time.

  After placing a letter on the kitchen table and packing a bag, Markus left his home in search of a better future.

  Chapter 1: Searching for a Wizard

  Handsome, fifteen-year-old Markus was born into a family of farmers. It was a simple life that he wasn’t overly fond of. He had always dreamed of becoming something greater than a farmer. From his earliest childhood memory until today, he had been plagued with dreams that fascinated and confused him. There were dreams of magic, dragons, spells, and other fantastic things. At times, they were nightmares, and at other times, they were adventures. But Markus knew one thing for sure: they weren’t just dreams.

  As he grew, he began to realize he had magical powers and some of the spells he dreamed of, he could perform—at least, on a small scale. His grandmother had magical powers and decided to deny them, as did his father. But Markus wanted to learn more. The only way he could learn what his dreams meant and how he could become a wizard was to join the Wizardry College. There was just the matter of getting a letter of recommendation.

  So, Markus set off to find a way to get into the Wizardry College at Thendor. He needed to find the shack where the Wizard Tolen was rumored to live. There, he would make his request for the letter of recommendation. He packed a bag of dried fruits, nuts, and hard bread, then left for a week-long journey around the lowlands. He told his parents that if he did not return, it meant he was on his way to Thendor.

  Markus walked along the dirt roads, passing farms and mills. The river was on his right, while green grasses and fragrant fields were on his left. Some of the aromas were lovely, and others were popular only among flies. But what would the farming community be without pigs, goats, and cows?

  “Hey, Markusss!”A green-skinned farmer waved his hand at the boy.

  Markus walked over to him and put on a feigned smile. This man was not the kindest person around. “Hello, Tolk.”

  Tolk, a Lizardkind, stretched his serpentine lips in the semblance of a smile. “Sssso, still sssearching for the old wizard’ssss cottage?”

  Markus nodded. “Yes. I turn sixteen in a few weeks, and I have to get apprenticed to a school soon, or I’ll be too old.”

  Tolk slithered out his tongue. “You really think you can convinsssss the old wizard to ssssponsor you?”

  “Yes,” Markus stated with squared shoulders and a firm expression.

  “You are an ambitiousss fool, but sstill a fool. What if you anger him?” Tolk swished his long, scaly tail back and forth behind him.

  “I’ll convince him he has nothing to lose by sponsoring me. It’s just a letter.”

  Tolk laughed with a hissing sound. “Ssstupid pink sssskin. That old wizard jusssst might turn you into a radissssh.”

  Markus glared at the man hissing and laughing on the other side of the short wooden fence. “I already know a few spells!”

  Tolk just laughed, so Markus decided to prove himself. He held out his hand toward the ground and yelled out, “ELDR!”A puff of fire emitted from his palm and struck the dirt. It was hardly enough to ignite kindling, but it was enough to get the jerk to stop laughing.

  Tolk jumped up and hissed harshly at Markus, “Damned pink ssssssskin!”

  “Have fun scooping manure.” With that, Markus left.

  The sky warmed up as the day quickly headed toward noon. Markus felt like his feet were going to fall off. He had been walking for over a day and had found nothing but more farms. Never had he traveled so far in his life. The farther he got away from home, the more nervous he was.

  “Wow, would you look at that.” Markus stopped on the road and looked up at the mountain range forming the southern and eastern border of the valley. The densely forested mountains still had the early morning fog lifting up as the sun rose higher. In the middle of one section, the mountain had been removed and a stone gate built into the wall of rock. The gate was h
uge—larger than any building Markus had ever seen.

  The gate itself was a marvel that defied much of what history recorded. It had a circular opening with two massive doors, which allowed passage. The wall around the doors was made up of giant cubes of stone cut and fitted together. Carved into the wall of bricks was a long snake, which wound around the gate and held the opening in its giant mouth. This gave the gate its name: Serpent’s Gate. The Shlan, who once ruled over the lowlands, had built the gates to keep an eye on the flow of traffic through their lands.

  “Quite impressive, isn’t it?” an old voice said, startling Markus.

  An elderly man with a long walking stick and a crooked smile stood beside him. Out one side of his mouth hung a long, thin pipe with just the slightest amount of smoke rising from it.

  Markus regained his composure enough to ask, “Where did you come from?”

  “Oh, I was takin’ a walk. I enjoy lookin’ at this old pass. The name’s Wickers, but most people just call me Old Man. Ha!” He was a strange fellow.

  “I see. Uh, my name’s Markus. I was just traveling through.”

  “Most folks are just travelin’ through these parts. The Port of Pearls is on the other side of that pass. Don’t suppose you’re headin’ that way?”

  “Not sure.”

  Wickers took a puff on his pipe and gave Markus a funny look. “Not sure? Don’cha know where you’re goin’?”

  “Not really. I was looking for the wizard . . .”

  “Was? Did ya find one?” Wickers interrupted.

  Markus cleared his throat and tried again. “I am looking for the wizard I heard about in the valley, when I came upon this gate. I’ve read about this place before, but have never seen it.”

  Wickers took his pipe out and pointed the end at the gate. “That there gate is a big ol’ mystery. None of your books really knows all about it.”

  “I know it was built by the Shlan before the Great War. I also know it hasn’t been closed in almost a thousand years.”

  “Oh, so you do know somethin’ ‘bout it. But there’s more.” Wickers took a puff on his pipe. “See how it’s built? That ain’t no normal walkin’ pass in the mountains. It was built for ships.”

  “Ships?” Markus scoffed. “There isn’t enough water in this river to let ships pass through. I doubt it had much in the past either.”

  “Nope, this old river never had enough water to float a raft down. Nope, nope. I ain’t talkin’ about sailing ships; I’m talkin’ about flying ships.”

  “Flying ships? Come on.” Now Markus was sure this old man was just making stuff up.

  “No, really. Long time back, there was a big ol’ empire in these here lands stretched far and wide to parts we ain’t been yet. How you suppose they got around such a big empire? Flyin’ ships. Air ships like sailing ships, could soar in the sky. The Shlan were tradin’ partners with that empire and built this here gate to let in the cargo ships. Long before the War, the Lost Empire busted up. Then, the War came, the Shlan joined Gallenor, and they forgot this gate. Nobody seen a flyin’ ship since.”

  Markus still didn’t believe him. “What about that path? It leads right up to the entrance and through the gate . . . I think?”

  “Put there by the Gallenorians to make travel easier. Climbin’ through that gate must’ve been mighty hard without a flyin’ ship, so they put dirt down until they had enough to walk on, all the way through. Got ‘em to the Port of Pearls quicker.”

  “And just how do you know all of this?” Markus found the old man amusing.

  Wickers stuck his pipe in his mouth and matter of factly stated, “I’m old. I know stuff.”

  “A thousand years old?” Markus teased him.

  Wickers puffed on his pipe. “Maybe.” Then he let out a big laugh.

  Markus laughed as well. “Fine. I think I’ll fly right through that pass and see if I can find a wizard in the port city.”

  Suddenly, Wickers stopped being so jovial. “A wizard?! There ain’t any wizards in Pearls. Ain’t any wizards anywhere.”

  “What?” Markus wasn’t sure if Wickers was pulling his leg or was telling the truth. “But I have to find one.”

  “Well, I’m just an old man, but I ain’t seen any wizards around the port in a long time. I haven’t been there in a while, though.”

  Markus looked back at the gate and thought about Wicker’s claims. “Then maybe I can find one.”

  Wickers became more serious as he puffed on his long pipe. “You would go to the port to find a wizard? Son, that city is dangerous. You wouldn’t survive a day in a place like that.”

  “I’m stronger than you think. Besides, what trouble can I get into looking for a wizard?”

  “In a place like Port of Pearls,” Wickers mused. “Plenty. No, no, no good. Take my advice: head into the trees. If a wizard’s gonna be any place around here, he’s gonna be in the trees.”

  “The trees? Why?”

  “Just makes sense. Travelers say they see a cottage in the forest belonging to an old wizard. Never seen it personally, but I don’t get off the road too much these days.”

  Markus looked back down the road and saw that the hills to the west were thick with forests. He would be heading toward home again, but it would still be on his mission. “All right, I’ll try the forest.”

  “Well then, young man, get on yer way. Don’t keep your wizard waiting. Oh, and watch out for imps; they love the trees at night. Good luck!” He laughed heartily and continued walking toward the Serpent Gate.

  Markus found himself amused and bewildered by this traveler. He was probably a crazy old coot, but what he said had been entertaining, even if it was all a tall tale. Markus turned around to say goodbye but found Wickers was already gone. “Wow, fast for an old fellow. Oh, well. I guess I’ll see what’s in these trees.”

  After a two-day walk through the valley and up into the hills, Markus was becoming worried he might never find the wizard’s cottage. The rumors of it being found by travelers might have just been tall tales. No, he had to believe it was out here. He had to have faith.

  Sitting on a stump, Markus folded his arms and considered what he was doing. He would not go home defeated. His parents had argued with him for so long about him staying when he wanted to leave, that he wasn’t going to give them the pleasure of saying, “I told you so.” Just because his father and grandmother denied their true nature did not mean he had to. He knew he had it in him, but he also knew his parents and grandparents had given up. They had settled for being lowly farmers. If Markus walked home now, he would walk home to a life of mundane farming and barely scraping to get by. Going out to the Port of Pearls wasn’t the brightest idea either. He acted brave, but he knew he would not survive in a city like that alone.

  Just then, he heard a rumbling. It was him. He let out a sorrowful sigh and checked his bag. He wasn’t even close to being out of food, but he was terribly tired of eating dried fruits and nuts.

  While munching, he looked out over the valley. Even though he might not have had the desire to make farming his life, he did love the view. This valley, known locally as only the lowlands, was situated as a bowl amongst mountains and hills. A river cut through the valley, gently bending and curving a path from a waterfall at the northern side, to another waterfall at the southern side. The valley itself was flat and bright green with soil perfect for farming. Thus, the land had been the location of farms for eons, long before the founding of Gallenor, in fact.

  From this higher altitude, Markus saw what few really noticed while going about their daily chores. The farms made the land look like a big quilt, with different shades of greens and browns, where the different patches of land had been prepared and worked for whatever they were growing. Outside of the patchwork were large pastures that contained the livestock. The blue skies overhead, the birds chirping in the trees, and the sounds of hearty work down below, made this a picturesque valley.

  “Good grief!” Markus shivered and wrappe
d his arms around himself.

  The wind was so bitter, he was sure frost fairies were near him, though they were just myths these days. The wind made an odd sound—a sound that was hard to understand precisely—but Markus was sure he heard words. Suddenly, the cold breezes stopped. It was far too abrupt to be a natural occurrence. He looked around to see what could have saved him from the shrill cold. To his shock and amazement, a little house sat amongst the trees, as though it had been here all along. It was made of stone and wood, with a crooked chimney. Green moss and vines had overtaken most of the surface and crystals were strung up all around it as decorations.

  “This is it!” Markus jumped up from where he sat to eat, discovering he had come upon the wizard’s cottage. After a moment of excitement, he realized he was talking to no one and composed himself. If he were to address an honored wizard, he would have to do so with humble dignity.

  As Markus approached the house, he became understandably nervous. If this wizard had been hiding, he was doing so for a good reason. What if approaching meant death?! No, he had to be positive. No one had reported such terrible things. And, after a quick look around, Markus noted no bones were lying about the ground.

  With a shaking hand, he slowly knocked on the door. The knock was so soft, he hardly heard it himself. He was just about to knock again when the door slowly creaked open. Either he was welcome, or the door wasn’t entirely closed and he had just dislodged it.