Nightglory
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.
www.mathewbabaoye.com
Buy Me!
Excerpt!
Beginnings
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.
Goldenslaughter.
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.
Stillness.
In the corners of
the hall, shadows darkened. And, fading to echoes, the receding clanks
eventually softened away.
Silence.
In the corners of
the hall, dark shadows stirred.
