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| EDWIN PHYLIS AND THE TALES WITHIN DARKNESS |
CHAPTER One
Ugly Night
A blanket of blackness descended upon the city. Bats swooped and swirled across the sky, leaving their silhouettes against the moon. The old wizard’s prophecy of tragedy was about to be fulfilled. The Feast of a Thousand Necks was imminent.
Darkness descended upon Dempsey, a ravaged ancient city where godlessness stalked the streets. The hands of despair crippled the day, swallowed smiles and strangled thoughts. Mischief, however, was far from over. In this world of penitent dogs, the destiny of many rested on the shoulders of the bravest. Fate cuts off the weak. The mighty have fallen. No one takes anything to chance. Life fades on the face of the beautiful earth.
He who dares to win must not hesitate to wield his sword. The sword of honour, the pain of sorrow and the gain of valour are on a different level. But they all answer the call of man. Death is inevitable, but a swift strike might offer a chance for survival. To hold back his weapon is to surrender his neck to a death that would unleash its venomous instinct, leaving only a trail of waste in its wake. Only the strong and obedient could endure the horrors of a night pregnant with evil intentions.
Twig, my shrewd and slim neighbour, was a prodigious snorer. His nocturnal symphonies reached Olympian heights and disrupted the tranquility of the surrounding area. In the realm, perhaps such cacophony was a curious anomaly. But in my world, it was a significant disturbance. Sheer dominance from the corridors of hell.
Restlessness permeated the air as I struggled to sleep. My eyes are heavy, and my body is drowning. The malevolent forces lurking in the troubled village exploited my vulnerability.
I yearned for solace that would ease the strain on my weary eyes. Milk me or kill me. Once peace arrived, I would be more resilient than a fugitive facing an uncertain future. When happiness assumed control of my life, I embraced joy. I prayed comfort would soon find its rightful place within my heart. Living in peace is power, and silence is a thorn in the flesh of my critics.
A rare battle raged within me. Of conviction, of identity. Few write in stone. On one hand, the common struggle of those who have achieved success. The disappointment of having no achievements on the table. Wastelands are better. Dunghills are paradise. My poor soul was in the middle of both extremes. Flirting from one end to another, searching for what was never missing. Sometimes, merely gazing into space could be problematic. But everyday it’s an achievement to open my eyes upon the light of the world. Count my blessings. Fix my pain and choose my Maker. It’s a free world. But it’s a war without end. I die to live. I live to die.
Leaders often fill their minds with ambitious plans and innovative ideas that enrich their lives and elevate their status. Yet, my heart harbors a burden—destructive thoughts that threaten to consume me and wreak havoc. These conflicting emotions are tearing me apart. I feel lost, existing in a state of chaos. For a troubled mind, sorrow is an inevitable companion. Evil intentions paved the road to recovery. Hard to please. Hard to admit. Nothing is more terrifying than the loss of one’s self.
A suffocating silence hung in the air. Green leaves were motionless on the tree branches.
The moon was in the sky, casting a weak glow over the desolate landscape. A grim reminder of dark days. Accompanied by the stars. Mere embers of their former brilliance offered a skeletal outline of the heavens, and a faded testament to the universe’s grand design.
CHAPTER Two
Maggof
Out of the belly of the night, a monstrous bird, its neck adorned with a severed human head, perched on the roof. No mirth in its eyes, only a cruel, predatory gleam. This creature, a harbinger of doom, is a tyrant whose heart is a barren wasteland devoid of compassion.
On a day suffused with sorrow, even its mere breath could extinguish the life of a fragile dove. Its eyes, large and malevolent, held a terrifying power, enough to send a hundred men fleeing in terror.
CHAPTER Three
Edwin Phylis
Startled by the unnatural sound, I scanned the darkness,
searching for answers and the source of the chilling apparition. A primal
instinct warned me to be vigilant, to remain alert to the dangers that lurked
in the shadows. As I surveyed the room, my gaze darting from wall to ceiling, a
wave of unease washed over me. Finally, I buried my face in the worn-out mattress,
sort solace from the unsettling sight.
The sound, however, seemed to have subsided, and faded
into the background like a distant memory. Nothing happened, it seemed. My
imagination grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the wall. While I kicked
for it to unhand me, it slammed me on the concrete. I elicited an agonized cry.
Misery stared at me. Despair took its toll. Have I fallen from grace? Life and
death is an expensive trip. Grab the bait and live. Run away and die.
I convinced myself it was a mere figment of my
imagination, a trick of the wind, a casualty of the tumultuous storm that had
raged. The room fell into an eerie silence, a suffocating stillness that
pressed down on me. I felt myself being drawn into the abyss, swallowed whole
by the encroaching darkness. I yearned for the oblivion of sleep, a respite
from the horrors that lurked in the dark. A painful slumber on this rickety bed
was preferable to the suffocating embrace of a stranger. An embrace that could
end life as a sorcerer’s spell.
CHAPTER Four
Owl
The creature on the roof was ugly. Its face was a roadmap
of wrinkles. It shifted like a predator sizing up its prey. There was a
chilling cruelty in its every movement, a malevolent intent that could send
shivers down any spine. From under its wing, it produced a wicked-looking club.
The vicious thorns studding its surface prove its sadistic nature. The king of
terror had finally emerged. Ready to hurl blows and thunder at the slightest
provocation.
The creature took a few menacing steps forward, its gaze
sweeping across the night like an evening wolf assessing the damage after a
bloody hunt.
A hulking owl, larger than any have ever seen, emerged
from the cruel hands of the night, settling onto the roof beside the creature.
It was a sight that would have sent chills down the spine of the bravest man. A
chilling reminder that the night held far more than just shadows.
The owl rubbed its talons together, and a low, guttural
chuckle rumbled in its chest. “Maggof,” Owl said. His voice a chilling whisper,
“I trust you haven’t forgotten our agreement?”
Maggof nodded with a smile, twisting his lips. “Indeed,”
the creature hissed. “But I see no reason to let this opportunity slip through
our claws. When I’m finished with him, he won’t even recognize himself.”
The owl took a predatory step closer. “I trust you won’t
deviate from our original plan, Maggof?”
“Of course not,” Maggof said, “But if the need arises...
if it’s the only way to ensure our success... well, then eliminating him
becomes a necessity. Better to silence him permanently than to risk his
vengeance later.”
The owl inhaled and said, “We must adhere to our original
plan, Maggof. Time is of the essence. Others will arrive soon.” He then turned
and surveyed the scene below. “Who will be the first to enter the room?” He
asked, returning his gaze to Maggof, who already held his fist clenched and his
formidable club resting on his broad shoulder.
“I will,” Maggof said, lowering his weapon.
“Proceed then,” Owl said. “As I mentioned before, we must
resolve this matter tonight. Arad and Kalendah are the sole arbiters of the
boy’s destiny.”
“Okay,” Maggof said.
The owl, whose head was as bad as a poorly decorated
coffin, was still watching when Maggof disappeared into the room below.
ABOUT
THE BOOK
It starts with strange occurrences in a small room and
escalates into a brutal war for survival. Edwin’s quiet life shatters when he
realizes the malevolent Maggof and Owl plaguing him are tied to his parents’
tragic deaths. There is no end in sight to his dilemma if he doesn’t bow to
Kalendah, the god of his ancestors.
Unaware that his every move is being watched,
Edwin must confront the dark forces, including Fagos, the despicable king of
bats and Mud the Monster, to uncover the truth and stay alive. Maggof says if
Edwin doesn’t find out why his parents died, he will follow them to the grave.
But this isn’t just any boy, Edwin possesses a unique quality, though whether
its sorcery remains to be seen.
The fight with Maggof is only the beginning of
sorrow. One morning, after eating a bird, something inexplicably transported
Edwin to another world. He met Mud, the Monster who didn’t like him. The
creature sorts every opportunity to kill him. Edwin left a town with two
companions, Goosef and an old friend who prefers to remain in the shadows. The
journey takes him back to where it all began.
What separates Edwin Phylis and his destiny is
a formidable forest where trees resist anyone not allied with them. Goosef,
however, knows how to speak their language, and Edwin will need patience to
master this art.
In order to protect his foster father, Twig,
Klause will be tempted to take up arms. If he does, it will reignite an old
rivalry on many fronts. Klause is never in the good books of Maggof and Owl. It
is only a matter of time before they clash again. Meanwhile, two sinister figures
from the underworld, Arad and Kalendah (four headed beast), know Edwin’s true
destiny and will stop at nothing to ensure he never becomes the powerful force
they fear.
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