The Last War (Book #9 of the Sage Saga) (18 page)

The End of An Era

(Book #10 of the Sage Saga)

Is now Available for Preorder!

Spring 2016

Dear Reader,

It’s been a while since I’ve written to you, but I feel that now is the time since we are at the end of our first major arc. The next book,
The End of An Era
, is exactly that. At the end of the first trilogy, a lot changed as time moved forward five years with Catherine sitting on the throne in Allay. It brought forth a new protagonist in Bastion, and a lot changed at the end of that trilogy as well. The Great Collision, and the arrival of the three worlds changed the landscape drastically. It brought forth new enemies and friends, a few old ones, and even a spin-off series through Remi in The Seven Sorcerers Saga. Now, we are reaching the end of another arc, and once again, the Sage universe will have changed in significant ways.

The Sage Saga will continue after book Ten, but the focus will shift to a new era and time within the universe. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it as much as I loved writing about it. If you have any comments on the series and/or its direction, feel free to email me at
[email protected]
. I’m curious to hear what you have to say! Also, for all of you wondering, the blog is currently under maintenance, but it will be back right at the beginning of the new year, which reminds me…

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

- Julius St. Clair

An Excerpt from:

The Sorcerer’s Ring (Book #1 of the Seven Sorcerers Saga)

Now Available!

[Just click on the image below]

She never got complacent looking up at the stars.              

And it was not because of the mysteries they were known to possess. How they only revealed a miniscule amount of their true brilliance and potential from afar, or how the light that the planet enjoyed was years old and no one has truly seen their current state.

No that wasn’t it. That wasn’t why she gazed at them.

It was because of how ordinary and insignificant they now were since the worlds connected.

Remi Fonteyn took another deep breath, and tried to ignore the burning in her lungs. She could fight the frost a little longer. But it wasn’t worth it.

Paragon—or what used to be called Paradise—was now before her and on full display, as if it was her own private show. As she sat on the edge of the cliff and stared out beyond the grass and flower filled canyon, she could see the fears and hopes of her people manifested before her eyes.

Every day when they woke up, the concepts tugged at their hearts.

That Paradise and Oblivion/Paragon and Cimmerian—were not as eternal as they previously believed.

“REMI!” a sharp yet sweet voice called out to her from behind. Remi wrapped the wool blanket tighter around her and adjusted her seat in the hardened and ice kissed grass, just enough to turn her head. Olivia was marching up the cliff with clenched fists, huffing and puffing out tufts of chilled breath. She must have come in a hurry for she wasn’t wearing her poncho.

“Oh, hey!” Remi laughed, waving her friend over. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”

“When I would arrive?” Olivia scoffed. “Sitting there and acting like you invited me out here…what are you doing? You’re going to get sick again.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Remi huffed, turning back around to face the dancing lights. They were only wisps of Paradise, but they were enough to make her sneak out of her house whenever she had the strength. Waves of baby blue, neon green and violent red swept across the night sky as if the colors were made of water and someone was moping them up. Pinks and yellows swung back and forth as if they were listening to music only known to them, and the violets and oranges remained still and steady, as if waiting for a partner to invite them to the dance floor. The lights only appeared on a clear and cloudless night so she wasn’t going to miss the show now. Not for anything.

“You’re going to get sick again,” Olivia repeated, plopping down next to Remi. “You do that, and there’s no way you’re going on the next raid.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go on the next raid,” she muttered.

“Then what’s the point of all that training I see you doing? It’s not for your health.”

“I’d rather not talk about my health while we’re out here.”

“I just worry.”

“If I’m okay, then you should be too,” Remi replied, still facing the light show. “It’s my life after all.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you though.” Remi faced her friend and saw the grief in her eyes. She didn’t look like the Olivia she knew. That Olivia was more optimistic and kind. She was beautiful and had the voice and physique of a pixie. She was tiny in stature but strong in spirit. The Olivia before her now was on the verge of tears, and her face was worn and sunken low, as if her skin was being pulled at by tiny hooks. It only took a few seconds for Remi to realize the truth—her friend had already begun the mourning process.

“Stop it,” Remi whispered, cupping her friend’s left cheek. “I don’t want you worrying about me.”

“You’re all I have, Remi,” Olivia said in her thick drawl. “And when I see you out here like this, it doesn’t help my nerves.”

“You sound like an old lady.”

“You look like an old lady,” Olivia retorted. Remi chuckled under her breath as she stared down at the scratchy wool blanket around her.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I sure do.”

“You know…if you didn’t come out here so often, we could go on raids together.”

“I’m aware,” Remi chuckled. “But it’s not my thing. Seriously. I like to think of myself as more of an explorer than a fighter.”

“You’re not going to be doing either without me.” Olivia stretched her hands out in front of Remi and closed her eyes. Remi watched curiously as her friend’s hands began to pulse a deep, dark red, so dark that it made her fingers appear frostbitten. After a few pulses, a crack was heard and then a miniature fire appeared in front of her, the sole flame rising every time Olivia moved her fingers in a wave-like motion as if she was playing a piano. The warmth made Remi feel better immediately, and she even thought about removing the blanket so that she could really get close to the fire, but she knew that Olivia would scold her. She kept it on.

“That never gets old,” Remi sighed, allowing the tips of her fingers to get close to the flames. She could feel her skin regaining its vitality.

“So,” Olivia began. “When do you want to leave this place?”

“Why do you say that?” Remi laughed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“Well, when I think that we can make it on our own…we’ll head out.”

“It might be too late then. There hasn’t been a conflict in twenty years. Not a single one. No one wants to risk getting killed.”

“Our town raids others.”

“It’s different. They only steal supplies, and usually little things. Nothing serious. The towns nearby raid us too and there’s rarely any violence. I think it’s all a farce if you ask me. Raiding each other back and forth to make it look like we’re tough.”

“We’re no different than everyone else,” Remi replied. “Just stuck in limbo, waiting for the chance to make it out, one way or the other.”

“If you had the strength now…would you go to Paragon…or even Cimmerian?”

“In a heartbeat,” Remi grinned. She clenched a fist and raised it over her head, examining her frail and gaunt arms. “I’m going to die anyways…might as well see some fantastic things before I do, you know? All I need is a little more time. A year, tops. And I’m gone.”

“What do you think those worlds are like?” Olivia whispered, rubbing her hands together. She was staring hard at the light show in the sky now, but it was apparent by the distant gaze in her eyes that she wasn’t paying much attention.

“Much like ours, I suppose. Just fancier. There’s probably castles and royalty and powerful warriors out there, just waiting for their chance to strike. The war for dominance of the three worlds will start, many people will die, and then things will go back to how it is now. Lots of peace and quiet until people start increasing in numbers again.”

“I wonder what it feels like to not exist,” Olivia replied.

“Probably what it feels like when you sleep and don’t dream.”

“You think the Sages of Legend are really out there? Paragon’s warriors?”

Remi turned to her friend and scowled. “What does that matter?”

“I was just thinking that if they’re around, they’re going to be the ones that determine how the war is going to go.”

“Maybe…but we don’t know what kind of warriors are in Cimmerian or Paragon. There could be warriors from centuries ago that are far more powerful, and that’s why everything is at a stalemate. No one knows who has what on the enemy’s side. And since we cease to exist when we die now, it’s a lot harder to take risks.”

“Still, the Sages will be valuable.”

“The Sages are just stories,” Remi scoffed. “And even if they’re not, their power isn’t so great. Using their souls as swords…it’s not practical.”

“I think it sounds pretty cool.”

“You would. All you can do is make your body warm.”

“At least I don’t need a blanket to do it for me,” Olivia retorted, snatching Remi’s blanket off of her and throwing it to the side. Remi yelped at the sudden chill that imprisoned her body. Barely able to move, she slowly stretched out her frail arms until she was able to retrieve the source of her warmth. Once the blanket was back upon her shoulders, she noticed that Olivia had walked away. She didn’t bother standing to her feet. She was already exhausted from the sudden cold. Breathing heavily, her eyes began to sink as she glanced back at the colorful light show in the distance, now beginning to fade as the sun slowly rose in their place.

Dawn had come, and with it, she would once again be painfully visible.

Her hair was beginning to fall from her scalp and it was already malnourished—thin and brittle to the touch. Her parents had told her that it had once been a full head of magnificent strawberry blonde hair. Now it was merely a shade of its former glory. Her body was as thin as bones and her face was as disturbing as a skeleton’s bare smile. Some would say she was beautiful, if only she could gain a little weight and maintain it.

On most days she slept twice as much as anyone else, and it was only at night, when she was invisible again, and her physical features were not easily seen, that she felt the most alive. When her thoughts were solely her own and not echoes of her peers.

It was then that she “day-dreamed.”

Of a life greater than the one she had been dealt. She heard the worries of her parents all too clear—that she would never travel, never be useful, and never be a warrior. But she just didn’t believe it. She felt it deep down in her brittle bones…she was destined for greatness.

Now…

If only she could do more than fight with a measly little eidolon—her soul in sword form.

Then she would be getting somewhere.

Her friend didn’t know it. But she was able to fashion a blade just like the Sages of Legend. A blade created from her very soul. It had not been an easy process, and it was actually a mistake the first time it happened.

She had been running away from
him
again, through the woods with nothing but her blanket to shield her from the unforgiving bite of winter. She had run with abandonment, and somehow she was expanding the distance between her and the pursuer. To the point that she could no longer hear his footsteps. She stopped to catch her breath, and that was when she heard something.

It had only been a clump of snow falling from the branches above, but the break in the silence nearly made her jump out of her skin. She placed a hand over her chest to calm her beating heart, as loud as a drum snare, and then she felt the hilt.

It was just sticking out of her chest. Looking like it was made of brown leather and intertwined with strips of red cloth, she stared down at it as if it had been there the entire time. She wrapped a fragile hand around the hilt and gripped it tight.

She wasn’t sure if the eidolon would be strong enough, but she wasn’t about to pass up on any opportunity to get stronger either.

She pulled at the hilt and the blade came out like it was sheathed in paper. She held it above her head and examined it. It was a dark purple Falchion, almost resembling a machete in design. It hummed when she turned it over to the side, and a smile escaped her lips. But then the grin faded as quickly as it appeared.

She had listened to the stories of the Sages well, and therefore she knew that this sudden and unexpected gift of having an eidolon shouldn’t warrant too much joy. According to her people, one became a Sage when they were able to take their soul and will it into the shape of a blade. A blade that could be used as a literal weapon.

But she didn’t feel much different, and actually, she was beginning to shake uncontrollably from the cold. The eidolon did nothing but hang from her fingers like an ornament. It gave off no heat she could use, nor did it make her feel any safer should her pursuer arrive.

It was
useless.

Remi sucked her teeth and mentally willed for the eidolon to disappear. It vanished in an instant and she hugged herself as her teeth chattered. The rest of the knowledge she had on eidolons came flooding through her mind—like how if someone stronger than her happened to break it, she might be killed. After all, it was an extension of one’s soul.

And she was already dying. So why add one more way to get killed to the list?

She didn’t feel any different, and therefore she knew immediately that she was no Sage. And if that was the criteria for becoming a Sage, then that meant the Sages of Legend were just as weak as she. And that just saddened her even more.

For she had spent many hours thinking about the Sages, and how she wished one would come and whisk her away from her horrible life, making her into one of them. She envisioned them having the ability to heal her ailments and defend her honor and all the fancy notions that girls like her dreamed of when they were young and naïve. She had grown up a lot since those days, and reality was a relentless teacher that didn’t discriminate. Finding an eidolon in her hand didn’t change anything in her life.

It just added to the sorrow.

Sages of Legend…who cared about them?

She heard shouting when she got close to her hometown, but she had no reason to worry. They lived on the edge of Cimmerian after all. Not that there were people suffering at all hours of the day, just that there was always conflict. Whether it was over something stolen or the fact that a person didn’t like another’s face, her people were the type to pick a fight solely because they needed something to do. It was funny really. They associated themselves with Cimmerians, but they never had the guts to go into their homeland unless it was a raid—to procure some food and supplies so they wouldn’t starve to death.