Hi, everyone.
I wanted to clean up The Coming of the Spell Caster by putting it all together into one novel. I am also correcting the category and republishing it under Sci-Fi &Fantasyβwhich is where it belongs.
I will be taking down the individual chapters, sadly this likely means all the comments and ratings will disappear as well. I apologise for this but having eleven chapters up for one novel doesn't make sense to me any longer. Especially since some of the chapters were shorter than my normal length.
For newcomers: This is fantasy with an obviously erotic twist. I think it is a little over the top, but I had fun writing it and in the end that is generally all that matters to me: that I have fun. The good news for you is that the second novel has been published!
Enjoy,
Lana Ocean
Canada
The Coming of the Spell Caster
Spell Caster Series: Book One
Chapter One
DANIEL DAVIES STRUGGLED to pull the fallen tree free from the underbrush, where smaller saplings and undergrowth had twisted around the trunk. He wrapped his arms around the two-foot-wide girth and gave a mighty pull, straining against the resistance, his arms taut and threatening to split his undersized tunic. His face turned deep red with the effort and sweat poured down his face. He reached deeper within himself and found an extra ounce of strength and suddenly, with the sound of saplings snapping, the trunk suddenly surged forward, and Daniel fell to a knee and released the heavy trunk.
The tree thumped to the ground, and Daniel took a moment to catch his breath. He felt a hitch in his shoulder, and he rotated his arm around the socket to loosen it. He pushed himself off the ground and wiped the half-sleeve of his tunic across his brow and blinked against the burning of sweat in his eyes. He looked down at himself and grimaced at the condition of his shirt, covered in dirt and pieces of bark and leaves. The shirt was made from rough-spun cloth and was more suited for holding potatoes than his body. It was a size too small, and he wished he could afford better, but he was only a poor farmer with a small plot of land given to him by the King.
He looked back at the fallen tree. Now that it was finally free of the saplings, and he could remove the branches and ready the tree to drag back to his farm with his mule. He had found it fortunate to have found the treeβit had meant less work for him. Daniel was standing in an old growth forest and the trees were dense and thick. The trees took a long time to fell and chancing on the fallen tree had saved himself an hour of chopping at least.
Although it might have been less work than pulling it clear of the undergrowth
, he thought.
He studied the stump of the tree for the third or fourth time. It kept catching his eye as it was oddly charred. A lightning strike would not have been so focused. His gaze lingered for a moment before he shrugged and thanked the Gods for providing this bounty. His mule, only a dozen yards away, stomped the ground in impatience and glared at him. Daniel smiled at the beast and stepped away from the tree. At his feet, insects, exposed to the light, swarmed, and scurried for a place to hide. Daniel made a noise of disgust and stepped further back and shook his head with a look of distaste on his face. He hated insects. They ate his crops and caused no end of grief for a simple farmer like him. It was a constant battle and losing meant losing the farm and likely prison for not paying the King his due.
If only I could afford a simple spell to rid my plants of insects
, he thought, not for the first time.
But spell casters are notoriously expensive.
Daniel thought back to the one he had encountered in the town near his farm a couple of months ago. He had walked the two hours down the road to the town of Acron to stop at the Trading Post to buy a new pulley mechanism for his well, and instead he had found the inn and tavern beckoning him.
He had stepped inside the gloomy tavern and made his way past older patrons drowning themselves in ale at dirty tables. It was only just past noon, but by the looks of the men, they had been here for hours. He knew many of them, for they were a small community and many simply nodded at him as he passed. He knew them, but not enough to speak to them. Truth was, he had always been an outsider in town and in the region. He approached the bar and the man on the other side started to pour him a warm ale without prompting. He slid the ale over to him in a heavy and chipped ceramic stein.
"Two coppers, mate," he said without making eye contact.
Daniel fished out two coppers and dropped them on the bar. "Thanks." He grabbed his stein and took a sip. It was weak, warm, and far too hoppy for his taste. He grimaced and forced himself to swallow the bitter brew. The bartender grinned and winked at the expression and moved away to the other end of the bar, grabbing a cloth, and wiping a wine glass clean.
Daniel turned himself around and put his back to the bar and tried to relax. The walk to town had been hot and dry, and he wanted nothing more than to chug back the bitter ale. But the two coppers were an expense he could barely afford, and he would make this beer last and remember it for weeks. And he still had to purchase a new pulley mechanism for his well and wanted to pay cash rather than increase his credit with the trader. Which meant this was the only ale he could afford. He took a sip and winced. Despite the taste, he debated buying another ale and forgetting about the well. He didn't mind the extra effort of hauling buckets of water up by hand from the well depths. He was a strong and muscled man, with blue eyes and a tan, and more than capable. He shook his head.
Dammit, the well has a broken pulley system and I can't stand things not working properly. I want it fixed. No more ale.
Daniel looked around to clear his mind and worries. Despite the bright summer day outside, the lighting in the tavern was terrible due to all the dirt and smoke residue covering the insides of the front windows. The bar he leaned against went half the length of the back wall, farthest from the door. Behind the bar was a door leading to the kitchens. On the wall to his left was a door leading up to the inn where anyone could get one of the four rooms the inn boasted. Four large pillars held up the ceiling and a large round fire pit sat central to the room with a heavy stone chimney rising up through the roof. Tables and chairs filled the space. The floor was composed of roughhewn planks worn smooth in places to mark the passage of many feet. Sawdust was spread liberally across the floor to soak up spilt beer, vomit, and sometimes blood from fights. It was an ugly tavern, but the only one in the town of Acron for the likes of him.
With little else to do, Daniel observed the patrons. He knew three or four of them well enough by sight. They were mostly farmers like him, in town to sell their wares and maybe pick up supplies. Daniel was easily the youngest of them all. He had arrived in town at age eighteen.
That was seven years ago