The Frenalose Galaxy Collection - The Fate of the Father
by
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Zoox
quietly asks, “This place used to be habitable?”
“It was as vibrant as the City of
With that said, Reigga sees a flood of smoke ahead, which rises from the
pits of a group of campfires. His
prophetic mind swallows him with a vision outside of the current reality. Reigga’s hand
squeezes his skull as his other plants the reins, which reside within it, into
the juvenile stomach beside him.
The air is expelled from Zoox’s lungs suddenly and unexpectedly.
Zoox
pulls the reins from the hand within his gut during a few fitful coughs. He looks over in horror as Reigga groans and doubles-over on his seat.
Love begins to growl loudly.
“Shush, Love. Don’t startle the horses further,” Zoox says as he looks before them.
A large gang of goblins is
camping on the outskirts of the ruins of Ronweld;
directly in the phaeton’s path. Some of
them begin to draw their bows as other goblins hop upon their canine mounts and
brandish their short-swords.
“Reigga!” Zoox shouts with
necessity, as the cart continues on its voyage.
But Reigga’s
mind has him captured, alone in a distant realm where the stream of time flows
erratically.
The horses continue on their
unswerving path.
Zoox
yanks the reins to the right side.
The horses whine their complaints
as they turn sharply to the right, and the fragile phaeton is jerked through
the turn.
Zoox
feels himself lifted from the seat, and he’s thrown into Love, and the
resulting shove against Reigga nearly tosses the seer
from the carriage.
Zoox
reaches over and grabs hold of Reigga’s raiment as
the visions continue to entrap their victim outside the bounds of reality.
Zoox
can clearly hear the garbled proclamations of combat from behind the surrey as
he uncomfortably continues to roll past the battalion and into the ruins of the
city. His attention is focused upon his
caretaker as the cart suddenly drops with a loud crack.
Another earsplitting pop signals
the rebound of the wagon into the air.
Seconds seem to take numerous hectoseconds to pass as time slows to a dangerous crawl.
The surrey is jolted to a stop,
and Zoox feels himself pulled from the carriage once
again. He watches helplessly as Reigga hurtles likewise from the seat, and Zoox slowly turns his attention toward his destination.
His body crashes into the smooth
hindquarters of his equine companion and slides along the horse’s side before
he ricochets onto the ground. His
journey across the pavement takes its precious time to cease.
He lies still. His senses automatically begin to assess the
damages.
A bitter, cold darkness slowly
creeps into his body, and it replaces the warm, comforting liquid that gently
leaks out.
Unexpectedly, Zoox
begins to feel the arcane warmth of a soothing, unnatural rainfall caressing
his form.
It feels as if the warmth of the
flickering drops is supernaturally excavating the incoming cold and taking the
place of the leaking blood.
Zoox
feebly tries to rise as the muddled declarations of battle stampede closer.
His body hardly responds, and he
opens his eyes in concession.
After his vision regains its
abilities, Zoox notices the crumpled form of Reigga, still plagued with inconceivable visions, lying
near him.
A timber wolf enters the area of
the injured horses and the two lying men, and it growls at the invisible enemy
approaching quickly from behind the stopped cart.
Zoox
weakly turns his view toward his pursuers, and he discovers himself being
pointed at by a knocked arrow as he lies powerless, without escape.
The arrow leaves the cache of its
mounted possessor and whistles through the wind.
Zoox
winces and barely perceives the snarling canine dive into the arrow’s path at
the last second; replacing its noisy threats with a shrieking yelp.
“No, Love,” Zoox
utters soundlessly.
The gray wolf lies breathlessly
for multiple seconds as the goblins’ mounts bring their companions closer.
A bright white circle
materializes above the arrow-stricken wolf.
It begins to shower its target with a rejuvenating shower of light.
The arrow finds itself attacked
by magic, and its grip upon its victim is forcefully released; as it’s conjured
away from its host’s chest and into the clutches of a female thief.
Zoox glances from his canine friend to the nearby duo of Jaymae, who holds a bloody arrow in her grasp, and an u
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About the Book
“The fate of the father is to
trap himself in a device of his own creation out of the passionate feeling
resulting from his own action. The fate
of the father will result in the doom of all if the creator’s escape is unduly
postponed.” –Meekil
A cryptic prophecy foretells the
doom of all, and its meaning must be deciphered for the avoidance of a
cataclysmic conclusion. In a galaxy
filled with magical wonders, technological marvels, and an assortment of
mystical beasts, worldly danger lurks in many forms, and survival relies on the
seizure of the vast power throughout.
All forms of life are forced to realize their own potential. Justice must be fought for. Harrowing alliances must be considered. Control must be enforced. Order must be taught. Autonomy must be harnessed. Prowess must be demonstrated. For even the mightiest of vampires, dragons,
wizards, and angels will eventually be reminded of their mortality.
About the Author
Michael believes that all of us
have a complex, detailed story within us that develops from an early age. He’s been working on this story since he was
ten years old, and it has undergone many substantial alterations over the last
fourteen years. Michael’s creativity and
imagination effortlessly guide his readers in an escape from reality. It is obvious that he has carefully examined
the ongoing stories found within online computer games and comic books as well
as myriad movies, songs, and books. He
has allowed his own creativity to flourish and create a captivating location
with enamoring, believable characters with entrancing tales. Michael Peterson splendidly alters, adds to,
and reinvents the ideas, characters, and face of fantasy.