“It’s a cross between Lord of the Rings and the
Wizard of OZ where you will be swept away into a magical land of Dwarves,
Elves, and Halflings.”
—Brae
Wyckoff
Voted #1 BEST
fantasy book under the radar!
Voted #1 Best
Christian Sci-Fi/Fantasy Book!
Voted #1 Best
Indie Fantasy Book!
Synopsis:
In the hundreds of years since the Holy City disappeared,
darkness has fallen over the land. Human kingdoms have seized control of the
realm, scattering the other races into hiding.
Bridazak, a skilled thief, and his friends, a Dwarf and a
fellow Ordakian, have dared to remain within the human communities and live
relatively quiet lives, until they discover a mysterious, magical artifact. The
three friends are thrust into an adventure that will challenge their faith,
their purpose, and their destiny as they chase a forgotten and lost prophecy
across the realm of Ruauck-El, where they hope to discover the origins of the
strange item and their place in its history.
An ancient, unknown enemy threatens the completion of their
journey at every turn. Bridazak is about to face the biggest adventure of his
life, one that may change the known realm, and answer the questions he has carried
all his life. Will they unlock the truth?
Brae
Wyckoff was born and raised in San Diego, CA and is working toward a Psychology
degree. He has been married to his beautiful wife, Jill, for 20 years, and they
have three children; Tommy, Michelle, and Brittany. He has a beautiful grandson
named Avery. Brae has been an avid gamer since 1985. His passion for mysterious
realms and the supernatural inspired him to write The Orb of Truth, the first
in a series of fantasy action adventures. Brae describes The Orb of Truth as a
cross between the Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of OZ where you will be
swept away into a magical land of Dwarves, Elves, and Halflings.
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Its leaves were like clear
glass, and when the sun broke the horizon to announce the new day, a
kaleidoscope of colors danced, dazzling the people who had gathered. It stood
twenty feet tall, a glorious beacon of light, attracting all in the vicinity.
Silver and purple woven wood harmonized to form the base, stretching up and
then gracefully out. Hundreds of branches waved gently in the breeze, causing
the crystal petals to chime, creating a beautiful chorus, like angels singing,
harkening those with ears to hear.
On this day, the Tree was found
on a grassy hill overlooking a small village. Residents of Brook Haven slowly
emerged from their dwellings and began to assemble. The crowd of men, women,
and children swelled until the entire community formed a half circle around the
base of the knoll. None would approach the Tree any closer.
A man—carrying his sick child,
pale as snow—broke through, streaks of tears running down his cheeks. “Please
help me,” he whispered as he laid his boy on the grassy slope.
One of the thousands of crystal
petals snapped free from the strong branch and descended like a feather. As it
fell, it slowly disintegrated, leaving a trail of shimmering dust which
lingered, suspended in the air until the prismatic pattern faded. Each brief
flash of reflected light was like a strum on a lyre. Everyone was entranced by
the hypnotic action, including the father. They refocused on the debilitated
child when they heard the boy speak, “Papa?”
“My boy!” he said as he lunged
for him in a tight embrace, kneeling on the ground beside him. He peered up to
the Tree, “Thank you, for my son.”
Witnessing the boldness of the
desperate man gave another the courage to step forward. “Pardon, um, Great
Tree, I, well, I could use some advice.”
He lowered his head
and grew altogether quiet for a moment, not noticing another petal falling.
Then his posture and demeanor slowly changed. He turned and faced the hushed
crowd of onlookers, but looked lighter and freer. Whatever burden had been
bothering him had clearly lifted as he trotted off back to their town; another
petal descended.
More people brought requests
before it, and throughout the day a leaf would fall for each granted miracle.
Finally, the brilliant, golden light of the setting sun illuminated the relic
with a blinding halo. The people shielded their eyes from the intensity, and
within seconds the aura dissipated, and the Tree, along with it, had vanished.
*****
Sheets of blustery snow swirled
around the shallow cave entrance and the howling wind echoed within. A mound of
white fur huddled in the back recesses for warmth. Hot breath escaped in uneven
heaves from the several gathered creatures. The cold air whipped at their
backs. Their faces were hidden from the elements.
An intense light blared to life
outside, followed by soothing warmth. The snow flurry settled and the wind
calmed. A head popped up from the tangled fur, surprised by the phenomena. The
large, rounded white pupils of the Yeshi reflected the sparkling petals of the
Tree of legend.
One of the beings approached,
crunching snow underfoot, tenderly holding one mangled, fur-patched arm. A not
uncommon injury, the result of a recent battle within the inhospitable mountain
range they resided in. He extended his bloody appendage, and watched a single
petal fall as the damaged limb was restored to health. The creature turned and
called out to the apprehensive clan in its language of Yeshi, “We host the Tree
of Lore! Come while you can! Bring your requests and offer them without fear!
Hurry before it departs!”
The lumbering, beast-like
creature turned and fell to his knees before the amazing spectacle, bowing
repeatedly. After years of suffering turmoil in these harsh mountains, never
daring to hope the Tree would come so far to aid them, it had arrived. From
this day forward, his clan would never be the same.
Thanks for having me on your blog.
ReplyDeleteMany blessings,
Brae
Thank you for spotlighting this great author, and fabulous man.
ReplyDelete