Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud: Excerpt 2

Okay, this (relatively) young website/blog reached its 1000 viewer this week (I also hit 300 Twitter followers). Maybe it doesn’t seem like a lot to those of you who have been blogging for a while (or have some natural talent at it), but I’m happy with the progress so far. I still have a lot of work to do, and even more features to learn. So while I’m learning, you can read the promised excerpt from Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud. I’ve also included a single paragraph that appeared on Facebook this week. I’ll call it Excerpt 1.5. Excerpt 2 is a flashback story of Cedric’s. I tell you this to justify why he’s younger in Excerpt 2 than Excerpt 1.5. I hope you enjoy this little double-dose of Cedric.

Excerpt 1.5:

Rounding the corner into a hall that opened to the courtyard of the Keep, he saw someone he tried to avoid at all costs: the king’s magician, Cedric. The man’s thick, black beard with streaks of gray stretched almost to his waist. His black robe had white specks throughout. Is that the color of the material, or filth? He had the hood of his robe lowered to his shoulders, and a nest of unkempt, black and gray hair encircled his head like a wreath. Owen couldn’t even hide in the throng, as the once crowded corridor seemed empty all of a sudden. He pretended to study the stained glass windows lining the hall. Each frame depicted a famous battle from the glorious history of the Central Domain.

Excerpt 2:

The cool night air blew in Cedric’s face. His new beard, now reaching the neck of his cloak, ruffled in the breeze. He hoped the sound of rustling leaves and tree branches would help mask his own sounds as he sneaked behind Argnam’s cabin.

Cedric took his staff and drew the outline of a door on the back wall. He stepped away and the line started glowing faint chartreuse. Within the outline, the wall almost vaporized to dust. It piled on the ground as quiet as a phantom; the chirping crickets didn’t even break from their merry song.

Creeping through the makeshift doorway, Cedric saw the figures of a man and a woman lying in bed. The moonlight cast enough of a glow for him to recognize the man as Argnam. He couldn’t identify the woman; her long blond hair obscured her face.

As he approached the side of the bed, he raised the dagger he brought for the assassination. He took a deep breath before plunging it into Argnam’s chest.

The woman’s leg flashed out of the covers, striking him in the chest and knocking the wind out of him. She sprang from the bed. Her feet met his face in a rapid succession of kicks, topping the skill of a master fighter.

Gasping for breath and unable to stand, Cedric fell to his hands and knees and looked up at the approaching woman. The moon silhouetted her female form. Light reflected on her face, and Cedric recognized Necrose before she raised her leg over her head, and slammed the heel of her foot into his face. Total darkness enveloped him.

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