The Wizard

from the book jacket

A Tolkeinesque fantasy. Torn from his wooded village and his first love, a youth grows in a world of wonder and danger, freedom and fate, gradually discovering his wizard powers as forces of immense power focus on him.
In the beginning the darkness comes: “In an eruption of fury it arose from the sea. Dark and glistening it churned the water with its huge claws. Like a tidal wave it surged towards the shore.”
The hero dawns: “Facing the charge, on the farthest rock out in the sea stood the lone figure of Zaric. Torn from his wooded village and his first love, Zaric grew in a world of wonder and danger, freedom and fate, all converging on him. A killer seeks him, a mentor trains him as his body is battered and bronzed, his mind whetted and honed, his creativity choked and freed, his anger calmed and enraged as he steps into his birthright and his earned right of The Wizard.”
The lover watches: “High above Zaric Amareena stood on the Bonehorn Cliffs. She was his white-hot pain in all he chose, his centered joy in all he did. Both were torn between her human elven form and his wizard birth.”
The world hangs suspended: “Thrust upward and forced to fight far too soon, the young wizard stood on the rock and faced the charging force of monstrous evil.”
Let The Wizard enter your mind, and jolt your heart.

The Wizard In an eruption of fury it arose from the sea. Dark and glistening like a black spider, it churned the water with its huge claws. Like a tidal wave it surged towards the shore. Facing the charge, Zaric stood alone, on the farthest rock out in the sea. He breathed deeply, then stared at the onrushing hulk that he knew was a sukspid.
Coming faster than seagulls could fly, the sukspid hurtled at him with a mind-numbing velocity and mass. A dubious honor Zaric thought. He had fought and thought his way to this lead point on the rock. The honor of death. He had often won battles, but never with such an enormous foe. Those claws! If they catch me they'll shred me. But the claws concerned Zaric less than that typhoon of darkness that swirled above the sukspid. Zaric felt the black typhoon sucking at him with an immensity of mentality. He could feel the maelstrom enter his mind. Zaric turned for a moment and looked at the land forces covering the Bonehorn Cliffs like thick trees. They shouldn't be there! They were not warriorsthe timid karjills, the funloving lumpkins, even a few of the saintly old dreamers from the Eastern Isles. And Amareena! She was somewhere up there. On the edge of the highest cliff Amareena stood straight but her hurting eyes looked down to a single rock far out into the sea. With her half-elven eyes she saw Zaric standing erect, trying to protect, taking the first charge, facing huge black death. Although Zaric was of an order apart from her, and of a different race, Amareena loved him. She blinked to stop her tears from flowing, and the watery film caused the distant rock to waver even as it seemed to vanish under the tidal wave of the sukspid. Zaric won't waver, she thought. She saw him standing straight, unmoving, and unbending. He would never show fear. . . . Amareena thoughts floated lovingly back to those fresh days in their village of Ololak... Ololak As a youth Zaric was different. Many people didn't notice, but Amareena did. Even then, as a pigtailed, skinnedkneed kid, she was drawn to him. She watched him closely. His body, like most of the boys from the lake country, was lean, hard, and perhaps even thin. His upper ribs showed like branches through his drum tight skin. She often ran her eyes like fingertips over those rolling ribs and circled those vellum nipples. She felt ashamed, like she had violated him, but she also felt a secret sweet rush that was early love…

* Waking Dreams * America the Takeback * Bridge Out: Full Speed Ahead * Sow the Storm * The Karjill * The Other Edge of Beauty * Thinking * God: an Autobiography * Dr. Gary Kirby

The Wizard

In an eruption of fury it arose from the sea. Dark and glistening like a black spider, it churned the water with its huge claws. Like a tidal wave it surged towards the shore.

Facing the charge, Zaric stood alone, on the farthest rock out in the sea. He breathed deeply, then stared at the onrushing hulk that he knew was a sukspid. Coming faster than seagulls could fly, the sukspid hurtled at him with a mind-numbing velocity and mass.

A dubious honor Zaric thought. He had fought and thought his way to this lead point on the rock. The honor of death. He had often won battles, but never with such an enormous foe. Those claws! If they catch me they'll shred me. But the claws concerned Zaric less than that typhoon of darkness that swirled above the sukspid. Zaric felt the black typhoon sucking at him with an immensity of mentality. He could feel the maelstrom enter his mind.

Zaric turned for a moment and looked at the land forces covering the Bonehorn Cliffs like thick trees. They shouldn't be there! They were not warriorsthe timid karjills, the funloving lumpkins, even a few of the saintly old dreamers from the Eastern Isles. And Amareena! She was somewhere up there.

On the edge of the highest cliff Amareena stood straight but her hurting eyes looked down to a single rock far out into the sea. With her half-elven eyes she saw Zaric standing erect, trying to protect, taking the first charge, facing huge black death. Although Zaric was of an order apart from her, and of a different race, Amareena loved him. She blinked to stop her tears from flowing, and the watery film caused the distant rock to waver even as it seemed to vanish under the tidal wave of the sukspid.

Zaric won't waver, she thought. She saw him standing straight, unmoving, and unbending. He would never show fear. . . . Amareena thoughts floated lovingly back to those fresh days in their village of Ololak...

Ololak

As a youth Zaric was different. Many people didn't notice, but Amareena did. Even then, as a pigtailed, skinnedkneed kid, she was drawn to him. She watched him closely. His body, like most of the boys from the lake country, was lean, hard, and perhaps even thin. His upper ribs showed like branches through his drum tight skin. She often ran her eyes like fingertips over those rolling ribs and circled those vellum nipples. She felt ashamed, like she had violated him, but she also felt a secret sweet rush that was early love…