The Spark by Taylor Gibson

Author:Taylor Gibson [Gibson, Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781524628079
Publisher: Author House
Published: 2016-09-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

What you believe is as real as you see it. Do not dismiss anything; for nothing is nonexistent and nothing existing, exists without you or anyone else that exists.

~Aloli-Ta Äbaka

Waking up in a place so unfamiliar was never one of my favorite experiences. I lay in a warm bed surrounded by darkness and the absence of any presence, which could have brought me here from the Crosscc plains. I was uncertain of what had happened to me after summoning the great and powerful Anima. The maelstrom that the beast produced had taken me to the very depths of unconsciousness, as I was oblivious to the length of my slumber, yet another peeve of mine

I could see no light at all in the room, so I got to my feet and searched for a window that may have been covered by shutters or heavy curtains. The floor was made of rock, yet felt as soft as sand to my bare feet. I felt the robes I had worn were taken from me. I was wearing something else; something uncomfortably alien to me. My beard was in knots and the hair upon my head was ruined from the earlier battle.

I hugged the wall, feeling around to find a window, a door, or some sort of exit from the room, but, nothing was on that wall; not even a dent or a crack in its stone structure could be found. It became clear that this room may be a garret or a cellar of strange design. I swiped my hand across the blanket of darkness to see if there were any ladders, because there were obviously no stairs around. I could find no ladder on the ceiling that could have lead to a first floor, so I got on my hands and knees to search for a trapdoor, with a covered stairwell underneath. Unfortunately, I could find no escape, and it was clear this was a magickal room. One could only enter through teleportation.

Once realizing this, I began to feel the energies around the walls that told me I was incapable of casting magick of my own. This room was a wizard’s prison and I was its prisoner. With a sigh of frustration, I sat back down on the bed and wondered how my family was faring in Rïdeneer. In the recesses of my imagination, I could see them searching for me outside the village, leaving no stone unturned.

It was obvious now that I had been kidnapped by someone, or something with mysterious intent. Just as I was about to lie back down in bed, I felt a presence suddenly enter the room with me; a strong one, full of excitement and glee. It was a masculine company; one that seemed pleased to be in my presence. A man’s voice spoke to me out of the darkness, with much enthusiasm and worship in his eager tone.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Äbaka.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I am as you are. A prisoner trapped in the darkness with only one who can save me.

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