Master Arcanist by Shami Stovall Book Read Online And Epub File Download
Corruption. Power. The clash of god-arcanists rocks the world.
Volke Savan is tasked with finding the remaining god-creatures and helping them bond with people who will help fight the Second Ascension. Unfortunately, enemies and power-hungry arcanists are out to find the creatures themselves. With the help of the Frith Guild, and those who have sworn to him, Volke intends to face off against the Second Ascension with overwhelming force.
But as more individuals bond with the god-creatures, the worse the magical corruption, the arcane plague, spreads throughout the world. Volke must determine his paths in magic—creation or destruction—and then solve the problem of the plague once and for all, before it destroys everything he cares for.
Master Arcanist by Shami Stovall Book Read Online Chapter One
The last twenty-four hours had been rough.
I stood outside the shattered walls of Thronehold, the capital of the Argo Empire. The cries of the injured and mourning rose with the smoke into the air. The armies—soldiers and arcanists familiar with war—celebrated their victory and the rightful queen’s restoration, despite the surrounding rubble and bodies. I wanted to rest, to spend time with Evianna and the others, but I didn’t have that luxury.
I was the World Serpent Arcanist, the Warlord.
Too many problems needed my attention.
Last night, I had killed Theasin, but the Second Ascension had stolen away with his soul forge. From what I knew, the god-creatures couldn’t survive without their arcanists. The soul forge was surely dead, but now its corpse was in the hands of the enemy. The Second Ascension had used the skeleton of the apoch dragon to make fearsome weapons, and I had no doubt they’d use the soul forge for the same villainy.
That was a serious threat, but without knowing where the corpse had been taken, there was little I could do about it right now.
To make matters worse, several of my friends and family had been infected with the arcane plague during our battles. I had thought the plague was no longer a threat. I had helped a friend, Vethica, bond with a khepera, a creature with the power to revert the corrosive damage caused by corrupted magic. Then I had allowed that information to be spread widely—I wanted everyone to be cured.
But now Vethica was gone. She had vanished during the battle, and I had every reason to think the Second Ascension had taken her.
Now I had to find a way to help those infected, as well as locate Vethica.
The mounting pressure to find the Second Ascension’s lair weighed on me. How would we find it? As well as the other god-creature I suspected had already bonded. Was that god-arcanist a member of the Second Ascension? So many problems…
Another complication—the fenris wolf, a god-creature of extraordinary ability—was nearby, here in the Argo Empire, somewhere close to Thronehold. Someone had to bond with it, but Queen Ladislava had declared all god-creatures in her realm belonged to her. Would she see reason and allow us to send someone into the lair of the wolf?
The final problem was a personal one.
During the fight for Thronehold, the soul forge had used its heinous abilities to steal life from people, and then given it to the corpses of mystical creatures. Those corpses… They had risen from the dead.
Even Luthair.
A white hart stood next to me, stomping his golden hooves and shaking his head. “Where am I? Why am I here?” When he turned to face me, his white fur shone in the bright afternoon light. “I don’t understand.”
Arthur, the white hart, was the eldrin of an assassin who had tried to kill me—Adelgis’s sister, Venae. His golden antlers had been sliced from his head during our fight, but they had grown back during his resurrection, large and pointed, just as glorious as before.
I had almost forgotten about him. My thoughts were on so many other things.
Thankfully, Evianna was with me as well. She waited by my side, a look of determination etched onto her face. Her white hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, fluttered in the wind. Loose strands glittered with a metallic edge, beautiful and mystical, in a way no one else was.
Her bluish-purple eyes…
Evianna stared at me without saying anything, but I knew she was waiting.
I had to decide what to do.
Which problem had the highest priority? Rescuing Vethica? Finding someone to bond with the fenris wolf? Stopping the Second Ascension from using the body of the soul forge?
Saving Luthair?
Thinking of Luthair caused a twinge of pain to lance through my chest. I turned to the white hart. He had been brought back to life—perhaps he would have answers for me.
“Are you still bonded with Venae?” I asked.
The mighty beast twitched his ears. “I don’t know who you speak of.”
“You don’t… recognize Venae’s name?”
Arthur shook his head. “My Trial of Worth has been completed. I can… sense it. But I have no arcanist. I need to find her. We need to bond.”
“You know your arcanist is a woman?” I asked.
The white hart didn’t answer for a long moment, perplexed.
But it was all I needed to hear. Arthur couldn’t remember his old arcanist, but he sought to bond with her regardless. Was that what Luthair had felt when he awoke? Had he felt an urge to find me and bond with me? Or was it just because Venae remained unbonded?
Again, my chest hurt. I hated… the thought of him searching endlessly for me. I hated the thought I wasn’t there for him.
“Volke?” Evianna asked. She placed a hand on my shoulder and stepped close to me. “Are you okay?”
“I will be,” I managed to say.
“We still have Venae in custody.”
“I… I know.”
I didn’t care whether she bonded with her white hart again. I just didn’t. Someone else could handle that. Right now, I needed to focus on the big issues.
Out of all the problems, which could I handle the fastest? Obviously, the fenris wolf was nearby. I could speak with Guildmaster Eventide, and we could escort someone into the lair of the beast. We had the wolf’s runestone. Everything was ready—we could have another god-arcanist on our side before nightfall, assuming we all didn’t die from the perils of the lair.
And then we’d stand a better chance against our enemies.
Those who were infected with the arcane plague… Their eldrin had a few days, maximum, before becoming twisted monsters. The arcanists had longer, since they weren’t completely magical, but it wouldn’t matter if their eldrin fell first.
It would probably take weeks or months for the Second Ascension to use the soul forge to create powerful artifacts. Especially now that Theasin wasn’t there to help them.
Heading to the fenris wolf’s lair was the best choice.
At least, I hoped it was.
“Evianna,” I said.
She tensed and then held herself a little straighter. “Yes? What is it?” Before I could answer, she hastily added, “Do you need something? What can I do to help?”
“Can you gather the other master arcanists of the Frith Guild?” I shook my head. “Or anyone else on our side? I need to speak with them.”
The white hart snorted. “What of me? You said you knew my arcanist. I want to meet her!”
I waved my hand at the creature. “Evianna, can you… take care of him as well?”
The shadows around Evianna’s feet flickered and fluttered, like bats trapped in the darkness. She replied with a single nod, and then her knightmare, Layshl, stepped out of the inky void.
Layshl’s leathery scaled armor, black as midnight, didn’t take to the sunlight well. Her empty cowl and dragon-wing cape seemed thinner than usual. Knightmares didn’t care for the light. They became weaker when it was bright. An unfortunate downside.
With careful and silent movements, Layshl stood next to the white hart. Her gloved hand—disembodied, as though worn by an invisible person—stroked the brilliant white fur of the creature. Arthur calmed and allowed the knightmare to stroke his shoulders.
“Layshl and I will handle this,” Evianna said. “You should rest a bit.”
She pointed to the encampment just outside of Thronehold. The many tents had once been for Queen Ladislava’s soldiers, but now that she had the city, they were empty. Eventually, the whole lot of tents would be torn down and packed away. The commander’s tent—larger and positioned near the center of the encampment—was a quiet location, sitting in the middle of the tent graveyard.
“You’ve been through a lot,” Evianna said, the concern in her voice genuine. When she touched my shoulder again, it was gentle. “I promise I won’t take long. I just… I worry about you. Everything you’ve been through. It’s so much.”
“I’ll handle it,” I said, more confidence in my voice than I felt in my heart.
She smiled up at me. “I know. But I want you to be okay at the end of everything, too.” Then Evianna threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. “No more near-deaths. No more close calls. Do you understand?”
The more she squeezed, the more I could feel her concern. I returned the hug, thankful she wasn’t too angry with my recklessness. “Sorry for worrying you.”
Evianna broke away from me and placed her hands on her hips. Her clothing—a high-quality button-up shirt and riding trousers that fit her perfectly—had been dirtied during the fighting, but still retained their elegant qualities.
“No more apologizing,” Evianna stated. “We can’t have excuses. You rest, I’ll handle the white hart, as well as gathering everyone for a discussion. Everything will be taken care of. You have my word.”
Although the smoke from destroyed smokestacks in the city stung my nose, I managed a smile. Evianna was dependable. I could relax for just a moment in the command tent while I thought of a plan.
* * *
I slept for a short while.
The dreams I had were fleeting. I relived my bonding with Terrakona. The inside of the massive tree—Terrakona’s lair—had been a gauntlet of obstacles. The insides had consumed the others, and then we had faced Evianna’s brother in a dark confrontation.
Luthair…
He had killed the grim reaper to save me.
That was when I first met the hatchling world serpent. The massive beast had bonded with me. My arcanist mark—a twelve-pointed star over the heart of my chest—marked me as one of the strongest arcanists in the world.
As a world serpent arcanist, I could move the earth, control the water, summon fire and plants, and reshape terrain. A warlord on the battlefield that was how the last world serpent arcanist had become a legend.
But I still thought about Luthair. I couldn’t abandon him.
I owed him my life. More than once over.
The sound of air popping jerked me awake. I stood from my chair, half-groggy and confused by my surroundings. The table in the center of the command tent was massive—it was made from solid wood and had to weigh more than two horses. A Tactician’s Charm was rolled out on top of the table—a magical trinket map that detailed the surrounding area, including the weather.
The tent walls were held up with shelves, and half a dozen chairs were positioned around the table. In the midafternoon sun, the tent was warm. It didn’t help wake me.
When I glanced around, I noticed my sister, and I immediately tensed.
She stood at the opposite end of the table, quiet and careful, as always. Her eldrin—the adorable white rizzel, Nicholin—sat on her shoulder like an extra-long ferret. His silver stripes shimmered in the lantern-light as Illia walked around to greet me.
Although we weren’t related by blood, we were siblings. I knew her emotions long before she said a word. The eyepatch over her face, stitched with the image of a rizzel, couldn’t obfuscate her dread. Her one eye remained locked on me until we were mere inches apart.
I was taller than her, but even when afraid, she had an innate confidence that practically added a few inches to her stature.
“Volke,” she said, her voice unusually soft.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
The fear in her voice, coupled with my own frayed nerves, caused me to jump to the worst-case scenario—the Second Ascension had returned for Thronehold. I stepped around Illia and headed for the flap of the tent. “Let’s go. If there are more members of the Second Ascension around, I’ll—”
Illia grabbed my elbow and yanked me back. I turned around to face her, my brow furrowed.
“Illia?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not the Second Ascension.”
“Then what is it?”
In that moment, she hesitated. It wasn’t like her. Nicholin said nothing—which really wasn’t like him. The little ferret creature didn’t look me in the eyes. His paws gripped Illia’s coat, and his white tail wrapped around her neck.
Their silence gave me chills.
“We won’t find Vethica in time,” Illia whispered. “And the other khepera arcanists who are part of the Frith Guild are barely trained in their magic. Even if we somehow made it back to Fortuna—where they are—it wouldn’t be fast enough.”
“For Zaxis, you mean?” I asked.
Illia tightened her hands into fists. “Yes. For Zaxis.” She glared up at me with her one eye. Her shoulder-length hair, wavy all the way from the roots to the tips, had been beaten down by rain, mud, and sweat. When she went to run a hand through it, her fingers got caught in tangles. Illia ripped her hand through, her frustration apparent in the simple act.
“Guildmaster Eventide separated him from the others,” Nicholin muttered, his gaze on the floor. “And he hasn’t complained, but… He’s really worried.”
“I’ll help him,” I said. “I promise.”
“How?” Illia demanded.
“I… I’ll think of something.”
Only creatures and people with magic could become twisted by the arcane plague. If worse came to worse, we could kill Zaxis’s eldrin—his phoenix, Forsythe—in order to save his mind from falling to madness. That wasn’t the ideal route, but it was something.
But I knew I couldn’t default like that.
I grabbed at my arm and idly rubbed the spot on my shoulder where a plague-ridden creature had once bitten and infected me. What could I do?
I had cured myself of the plague when Luthair achieved his true form. I couldn’t force Zaxis to do the same with Forsythe, but another thought crossed my mind. Terrakona had said that a mystical creature achieving its true form was the same as touching the purest magic—and the purest magic couldn’t be corrupted by the plague.
Terrakona had also said that his lair—his birthplace—had been steeped in the purest magic.
We were too far away from Terrakona’s lair, but the fenris wolf…
It was nearby.
“Listen,” I said, placing a hand on Illia’s shoulder. “I have an idea. I don’t know if it’ll work, but I’d rather try it than never know.”
|
Full Complete This Book Epub File Download 3 Usd |
Note :- This Download File Is Epub Format So This File Open For Download EPub File Viewer Software. This Software Download For Go Website https://calibre-ebook.com/ Or Second Website Is (www.epubfilereader.com)
Thanks for commenting on Magazine All World. If you have any doubt, please let us know.