I was determined to not miss posting this month, and I succeeded. In this one, I'm giving all of you a look at the first chapter of my book, The Dark Wolf, to read and enjoy. Feel free to leave your opinions and views below. I will post a second part of the chapter later on.
***
Shadows danced around in a room lit only by dying flames that sputtered weakly in the hearth of a massive fireplace. For several moments, they struggled to keep aflame, but slowly they began to fade until only smoldering embers glinted faintly in the ashes, leaving the room in darkness.
A small red light bloomed to life a few paces away from the hearth, chasing away some of the darkness. It flickered twice before its glow steadied and grew stronger.
The darkness before it parted as a shadow detached itself, gradually morphing into a tall man-shaped figure. It approached the source of the red light—a dark red orb as large as a child‟s toy and set in a niche atop a stone hewn stand—and watched multi-colored pinpricks of light dance across the orb's glassy surface, gradually coalescing into the forms of mounted soldiers.
There were seven of them, each wearing black armor and a dark red cloak with the insignia of a black eagle on their shoulder. They were coated with grime and appeared exhausted, but they rode without pause through a curtain of rain.
The orb continued to show their progress for several minutes more before the scene faded and the light in the orb slowly dimmed, leaving the room in pitch darkness once more.
It fled as drapes along the wall were pulled back, allowing the fading afternoon light to stream in through the beveled window panes and upon the man called Ruval.
He was clothed in a plain black tunic and pants. Thick blond hair edged with grey at the temples was brushed back, revealing a broad face etched with deep, cruel lines. Cold blue eyes watched the dark clouds in the sky that were growing larger.
Ruval eyed the clouds with a frown and turned away, not perturbed by the sight. It would be a little while yet before the storm arrived, but it mattered not. The weather would not hinder his plans from going forward.
At last, it will be mine, he thought eagerly. It had taken many years of waiting and searching, but now everything was coming together exactly as he had planned.
Ruval stepped towards a heavy table, darkened with age, on which stood a tall pitcher and a plain bronze goblet. He poured some wine into the goblet before striding over to the fireplace to grab a chunk of wood and toss it into the hearth.
Ruval stirred the ashes with a poker, sending a torrent of sparks flying upward in a lazy spiral almost hypnotizing in their ascent as they glowed brightly for a brief second before winking out. Eventually a small flame flickered weakly and soon grew in strength as it hungrily devoured the wood.
Ruval set the poker back in its place at the hearth‟s side before sitting down in a large black chair. He glanced impatiently at the doors to his left. What was taking the boy so long? He had mind-called him before leaving his study, which would have given him plenty of time to arrive about now if he hurried.
Ruval sipped his wine and drummed the fingers of his right hand irritably on the chair's armrest. Of all the times to dawdle, the boy had to choose today. He used to be more punctual when he had first arrived, fear keeping him from doing anything that might displease him, but over the years, Ruval had watched that fear slowly abate. It was something he was not pleased to see.
After several minutes had passed, a firm knock echoed outside the chamber‟s door, causing Ruval to glance at it crossly. Finally, it had taken him long enough. “Enter,” he commanded.
