Friday, November 27, 2015
by Mathew Babaoye
The second release from new author Mathew Babaoye, Nightglory is a fantasy debut set in a hidden magical Realm ruled by the mercurial, but implacable, Queen of Night, Goldenslaughter, at the time of her greatest challenge…
Will and Power
The wider world is a place of magic and adventure, host to a number of different races which bicker and war and love, all to their own passions.
But within that wider world are various magical Realms metaphysically each bordering different geographical locations rich in Power and history, each existing separate from all else, and each ruled by councils, covens, Faen courts, or nothing at all.
In the Realm called the forest vale by its oldest, immortal residents, and the Night Realm by the nearly mythic usurper Goldenslaughter, Queen of Night, a balance as old as the Realm itself has been long upset, and a reckoning comes for them all, big or small, brave or cowardly, good or evil.
So prepare for love, loss, adventure, and mayhem, all in a magical land where anything is possible…
The Night Realm.
Nightglory is the first book in a trilogy. Not a simple fantasy story, it combines elements of myth, faery and legend to create a grand new world of immortal despots, noble Knights, terrible Wizards, sly Fae, and the commoners caught between them. Experience this unforgettable new epic from the start, and find out the price one must pay for Power…
About the Author
Mathew Babaoye is a writer.
A faint glow was the first hint.
Far below, from moon silvered forest, it slowly climbed the dark-shadowed trail, against dark-faced bluff. No brighter, but slowly visible, until it was a faintly glowing cage. Then passing, with interior luminescence impenetrable, it continued a slow rise up through dark. High, and higher, slowly heading up, towards the bright-rimmed ridgetop.
As subtly more was.
With cage silvering, wrapped by her vague arms, emerging beneath the starry sky, a full moon shining low above far-distant mountains encircling the forest vale.
And substantial, she became.
A red-lipped smile upon her bonewhite face, with her long blue-black hair, and black gown, streaming behind, she seemed to glide out, the cage held by her wrapped arms, towards an arcing greystone bridge spanning an abyssal chasm.
“Beautiful one,” she crooned.
From the cage’s interior luminescence, a soft chirrup.
She crossed the arcing bridge upwards, against night sky, then back downwards, to silvered plain, and headed out upon it. Distant ahead, above low hills, waited a dark castle, like a black shadow against the vista of distant encircling mountains, with the full moon shining just above them.
Flowing silent, through silence. Moving smoothly, through stillness.
Gently rising, the way.
She wound up through the low hills, bearing the faintly glowing cage among their silvered shadows. Ahead, slowly rising against moon and mountains, were dark towers, and keeps, above dark, weathered walls.
Caer Nocht, the Dark Castle.
It was old, stark, and sprawling. A dark bastion spread across the high end of the bluff, under shining moonlight, reflecting nothing back.
She came the last distance.
Across Caer Nocht’s darkly gleaming moat, within its shadowed gatehouse, a stirring.
Metal slithered. Wood groaned.
The drawbridge slowly descended, eventually landing before her with a soft thump.
She continued across it, then entered the shadows of the gatehouse, with moonlight shining down ahead upon a gleaming suit of black armor standing in the center of an empty outer courtyard.
And she called, “faithful one.”
The Wraith Knight kneeled, joints creaking.
“I finally caught it!” she crowed, and twirled around the kneeling Knight with a laugh, her long blue-black hair and black gown flying after, before she headed off.
The Wraith Knight rose, joints creaking, and strode after her, clanking.
She passed through the shadowed inner gate, then crossed a moonlit inner ward, and entered back into the shadows before the looming Great Keep, atop which flutter a pure black banner. “Open!”
The double-doors swung wide, to darker shadows.
She glided inside the Great Keep, a line of witchfyre torches, held in sconces placed evenly along the dark walls, bursting into sudden life to begin casting eerie green illumination across the empty Feasting Hall.
Clanking outside, crossing the inner ward.
She flowed down the old, hard-bitten gold carpet covering the central aisle of the Feasting Hall, passing by empty tables, beyond which were heavy drapes covered tall windows along the outward facing wall.
“Goldenslaughter, Queen of Night.” An old gnome in black and purple livery stepped out from a table before her, kneeling to present up a covered silver tray. “Refreshments?”
“I have work yet to do, Feasal!” she sang out, her wrapped arms hugging the faintly glowing cage tighter as she skipped, with black gown flouncing, around him kneeling.
Feasal turned to watch her go, muttering.
Clanking, the Wraith Knight entered the hall.
Feasal glanced behind himself at its approach, then leapt back up and scurried from sight.
The Wraith Knight strode down the old, hard-bitten gold carpet, clanking, as ahead, Goldenslaughter disappeared into a dark passage behind the dais.
Every witchfyre torch suddenly snuffed out.
An outline of motion finished crossing the dark Feasting Hall, the sight of which was leavened only by dull moonlight edging the heavy window curtains.
Then clanks receded.
In the corners of the hall, shadows darkened. And, fading to echoes, the receding clanks eventually softened away.
In the corners of the hall, dark shadows stirred.