Torren is strong, beautiful, relentless, patient and cunning. This is his first intro in the book and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think of him and don't forget I welcome critique, I am still in the re-write process.
Fire light bounced off the cavern walls, shimmering as it glinted across pockets of condensation. Shadows of men huddled around a campfire created dancing giants on the earth and stones behind them. The earthen packed floor muffled Warrior Teig’s entrance, yet Torren heard every step. Respect, mingled with fear, sent the warrior down on one knee, head bowed, before the Leader of the Rebellion.
Torren looked down as his young recruit, biding the time until the man showed signs of discomfort. Only then did Torren speak. “You may stand, Teig. What is your news?”
Teig rose to full height, still half a head shorter than the Leader, yet his eyes remained downcast. “Entek has arrived. He awaits entry at your word.”
“Send him to my private chamber.” Torren left the great room to move down a cold, damp tunnel, lit with torches set in sconces. The sides of the passageway gave way at irregular intervals to separate rooms—soldiers’ quarters, supplies, pantry, eating area, kitchen, and armory—dug by hand, tools…and dark magic. A magic so sinister that the soldiers expressed fear, Torren heard in whispers, to enter many of the rooms.
The head of the Rebellion continued down the make-shift hallway until it ended at his private chamber. A frame constructed of beams of black oak had been pounded into the sandstone walls. The frame supported a thick door made from the same wood. This afforded Torren solitude and security. He opened the door using a series of incantations and gestures, taught to him by a Magi he had promised to free. Death is one form of freedom. The Magi should have been more specific with his bargaining.
Inside, a fire in the center of the room remained lit at all times. Another friendly gesture from the Magi.
Torren positioned himself at the end of the sturdy oak table which had a full view of the door. To his right, a feather bed remained hidden behind a wall of silk, and beyond that, a secondary exit concealed behind tapestry.
As Torren waited for his strategist to arrive, he filled a silver mug with ale and plucked an apple from the bowl next to the pitcher. He savored the fruit, kept sweet and crunchy by the cool storage. Little luxuries can be found, even in exile. The apple raised, Torren forwent the next bite when the door swung open. Damn sorcerer. But Torren kept the thought to himself.
Entek entered. Layered robes, embroidered with intricate runes unknown to Torren, flowed over the sorcerer’s feet, giving the illusion that he floated rather than walked. Torren watched the ageless man, braided black hair draped down his back, fingers entwined in front of him, long milky white nails overlapped to the wrist. The man stopped in front of Torren in a rustle of silk. He nodded once, a slight smile crinkled the edge of his mouth, and his eyes twinkled with different colored lights.
Torren motioned Entek to join him at the table, but the sorcerer chose instead to glide to the fire, and gaze into the flames.
Restraining a retort at the rudeness, Torren poured a cup of ale for his guest and brought both mugs to the fire. Before he moved to the other side of the blaze, Torren set the drink beside Entek. The alchemist swayed slightly from side to side, eye lids slit, a low hum reverberating from him. The flames rose and danced in harmony with the vibrations, while Torren forced himself to patiently wait for the end of the meditation.
“What is your purpose for your summons of me, Torren, leader of the Rebels?” With the words, the fire diminished to a low burn.
A spasm of nerves, a skipped heart beat, a caught breath. Torren had waited for this moment for five moon phases. He knew that Entek traveled a thousand miles from his home in Dangrial for this meeting. Torren thought carefully how he would answer. To summon a sorcerer is to invite dark and dangerous power, but Torren craved any advantage that could be gained against his opposition—the leaders of the three cities and their warriors. Aid from one skilled in the dark arts could be a means to take control of Djenrye and the Ortehs.
“I summoned you to join the Rebellion. It is said that your art as a conjurer is strong and your hatred of our common enemy, even stronger. I have gathered information that may be of benefit to both our causes. Yours: Annihilation of the council; mine: Control of the Ortehs and the destruction of Terra-hun. Our joined forces will ensure the achievement of our goals. Together we will be the new leaders of Djenrye.”
Well, again, I hope you liked it. Have a great weekend!