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In a world of vikings, dwarves, and demons, a 9th century priest who's lost his faith finds himself caught up in a deadly battle between good and evil. In 9th century Britain, chaos rules the land as old kingdoms splinter, Vikings invade from all corners, and lives are taken at the whim of warring gods, demons, and spirits. When Daniel, a young priest who's lost his faith in humanity, witnesses a lone warrior save his village from savage raiders, he believes he’s seen a miracle, an unmistakable sign that God hasn’t abandoned him or his homeland. He follows the warrior, who calls himself Arkael, on a mysterious trek across the island, hoping to find his purpose in a world full of misery and pain. When he meets a simpleminded stable hand infected by the touch of a powerful demon, a sickness that corrupts the soul, Daniel learns he has the ability to cleanse the taint. But the price of that gift is the enmity of the demon and his minions, who want him to suffer before he dies. Searching for answers, he treks to a mysterious island, where a crazed sorcerer intends to create a monstrous army for the demon, using a captive woman with strange abilities of her own. With a new found purpose, and Arkael at his side, Daniel ventures into the darkness of a dungeon older than time, where the demon waits for his long-dormant plans to finally co

Fantasy / Horror
4.8 4 reviews
Age Rating:


909 A.D.

My wife died last month.

She had been sick for some time. I don’t know what exactly troubled her, but for the last year she’d been more tired than usual, her skin sagged off her bones, and her beautiful smile showed itself less than I was accustomed to. At first I worried she might be slow to recover from some illness, perhaps the terrible colds that seemed to get worse as we aged. The Welsh winters could be harsh, this last year especially, and some days the cold burrowed deep into our bones, no matter how large the fire in our hearth. I became sick myself, but only for a week. She became sick, and it never left her.

The last two months were the worst. She barely ate, and fevers troubled her every few days. She spent the final days of her life in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, and I must admit that when death finally took her on a quiet, spring morning, just as the sun rose above the east hills, a small part of me was happy to see her escape her suffering. But I mourned for her, for a long time. I missed her dearly, I still do, but I know that she’s in a place much better than what I could ever provide for her. And I know when I join her, she’ll be smiling, and waiting for me with open arms, along with those we were lucky enough to call our friends. I almost envied her for seeing them first.

I suppose that’s why I find myself sitting here now, hunched over a small, uncomfortable writing desk, staring at two piles of parchments. One stacked with crumbled, rolled, torn and disheveled pages, each one full of scribbled notes and diagrams. The other straight and neat, each page blank and ready to hold the breadth of my experiences. I’d intended to do this long ago, over forty years ago in fact, but life continued to get in my way. So now, today even, would be the day when life no longer held me in thrall. Today I would write the story of my life, a story that is probably best never read.

My son asks me if I need anything. He always worries about my health, but now he worries about my mind as well. It’s in his nature. He’s a lot like me in that way, though he never found himself in the grasp of the Church as I did. Instead, he runs the farm, handling the work that I’ve always found difficult to do with my injury. God bless the boy, he’s been nothing but a boon to me, as are my daughters, though they both live in Ireland now and I don’t see them as much.

But my son, he worries because I’ve withdrawn. I spend my time lately thinking and remembering, gathering my thoughts about the times of my youth that forever shaped me. And these are not easy memories to share. So I keep to myself, content that if he wants to know what troubles me, he will be able to read this, and know everything that came to be before he was born. He can read all about my tales of battle, though these were of a war few would have known. He could read about every terrible loss I suffered, and every great victory I achieved, though the victories were few and far between. He would learn how it all started on one terrible autumn day in Wessex, amongst the ruin of so many lives.

My memories of that day are still vivid, though they do not haunt my dreams as they did when I was younger. It was October 23rd, in the year of our Lord 866. That was the day when the raiders came from the sea and destroyed a village. That was the day of my first encounter with the horrifying evil that runs rampant in this world. The day when I would finally discover the terrible, heart-wrenching path God had chosen for me, and the sacrifices I would have to make to see it through.

It’s been forty years since that day, but even now, at an age when most men would be frail or buried, I can remember every last detail of every little moment.

I remember them because I can never forget...

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Further Recommendations

jennerholly1991: Great story, well done author

Fiona: I liked the suspense of it and would recommend this to someone who has had to choose amongst family community and love ...I rated this a five star because of the thorough editing and ofcause the suspense

Therese Marckmann: Really loving the relationship between them

Jd Nox: These series is so incredible! I’m excited to read the next one! Thanks author! 👍🏻👍🏻

Yachira Olivo Andino: The story was good and different you usually read a stories where the finale character stays quiet and forgive way to easy this one although was a quick progression she stood her ground

Kaitlyn: This was really really great but I would like a longer book

Sarah J: The first half I was in tears but then the second half went so quick. I just wish there was a bit more info but I can't wait to read the next book

Josie: I don't like abuse part but again this is what i signed in from book 1, a different kind of story. So I'm curious and excited for the end of book and character.

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Cris Tina: I read in some of your comments that you are experiencing writer's block. As lovely as your writing is do take your time to occupy yourself with what serves you as individual outside the writing world. Your brain wants alternatives and variation. It's how it keeps itself in shape. Hyper focus on ...

Cris Tina: I am deeply captivated. Looking forward to read all the stories

Mon Cherie: cant wait fro the updates cool writing keep it up 🤟❤️

Jennifer Leigh Anne Ciliska: Awesome read thank you for sharing your story with me

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