The Savage Peak: A Morgalla prequel Read online




  The Savage Peak

  A Morgalla prequel

  Jon David

  Opal Moon Press

  The Savage Peak

  © Copyright 2017 Jon David

  * * *

  Published by: Opal Moon Press

  PO Box 224

  Middleburg, FL 32050

  OpalMoonPress.com

  * * *

  Cover illustration by Jon David

  Cover layout by Ritualist

  Formatting by AG Formatting

  * * *

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  OpalMoonPress.com

  Lovingly dedicated to

  my mother and father, who have always there for me.

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  1. Secret Mission

  2. The Long Good-Bye

  3. The Burning Sky

  4. No Safe Place

  5. A Day of War

  6. Arena

  7. The Sanctuary

  8. The Order of Things

  9. A Day of Surprises

  10. The Dead Leaves

  11. Freedom Ridge

  12. Dottie

  13. The Forest of Iron

  14. Something to Celebrate

  15. The Shroud

  16. The Savage Peak

  17. The Woodcarver and His Master

  18. The Master of No One

  19. The Prism of Akubar

  20. The Izari

  21. A Plan is Formed

  22. In the Mouth of Evil

  23. Battle in the Pit

  24. Boom

  25. The Mournful Cry of Crows

  26. A Welcome Sight

  27. Someone to Talk To

  28. Bury Your Feelings

  About the Author

  Note from the Publisher

  The Savage Peak

  A Morgalla prequel

  * * *

  Two years before the events of “The Trilogy of Morgalla”, a young demon and her mentor are forced to abandon their sanctuary on a far-off world and return to the realm of Hell.

  Never having been around her own kind before, the young Morgalla is thrust into an alien culture. She struggles to adapt and find her place.

  Through an act of fate she is drawn to a world populated by demons and a strange alien people. There is an uneasy truce between them and war is on the horizon.

  Morgalla must choose a side.

  Prologue

  The Naming

  The demons towered over her so high, she thought they might be statues. At first, she did not realize they were alive. Her lilac eyes peered up at them from beneath her hood as her tiny hands gripped the plush animal. She and the stuffed beast were almost the same size. The new power she was discovering told her things about other demons, so she did not have to ask—not everything—but certainly enough to read their emotions clearly. The four who surrounded her appeared nervous, but determined, to do their duty. Today their duty was her protection.

  They wore uniforms of black leather and armor trimmed with gold symbols. Though the demons were the same species, they all appeared different. She couldn’t see their faces; she thought they were very tall, but in reality, she was simply very short. Four of the greatest skilled warriors were charged with her protection.

  The girl held the elephant tightly as she watched with concern. Though she felt secure that no harm would come to her from these four, she was unsure why she’d been brought there.

  Two more figures entered the chamber, one dressed in extravagant robes decorated with gold. His hair was long and curly, as was his white beard…probably due to his advanced age. On top of his head, four horns showed through thick hair. His pink eyes peered down at the child before him, and she seemed unable to return his gaze. She focused on the marble floor, afraid to lock eyes with the strange beings before her. She chose instead to focus on the marble floor. It would not help.

  “Master Udo,” the servant said, “this is the child—”

  “But of course, fool.”

  “Y-yes, Master,” the servant stammered.

  Lord Udo studied the child, his fingertips steepled together in front of his chest.

  “So you are the one, hmm?” He pondered and smiled. “Do you speak, child?”

  The girl remained quiet, for she had nothing to say.

  “Look upon me, young one,” Udo commanded. She could not explain why, but she felt an urge to gaze at him, regardless of her level of fear. “Do you know your father?”

  She shook her head. Udo stepped closer, and the girl wished with all her heart to be away from him, far away from here.

  “He is a powerful being. The most powerful…next to the Dark One. You are most fortunate to have his blood flowing through you. You will grow to be powerful and take a rightful place at your father’s side. But until then, your life is in danger.”

  The chamber door opened again. A figure entered, dressed in black, her features concealed. Surely it was a woman by the way she strolled in with such confidence and delicacy. The small girl felt a pair of eyes on her, but she couldn’t see who was peering down. The person seemed happy to see her.

  “Hello, little one,” the figure said in a soft voice.

  The child returned a small smile.

  Once she lifted her hood, the woman’s scarlet features were obvious. Her skin revealed pale red scales, smooth to the touch and white horns that stretched high behind her head. Black lips, full and vibrant, glittered in the light. Her hair was the most beautiful the girl had ever seen, flowing long and white. Flickers of silver shone upon her radiant locks. Her strange, yellow eyes made the small girl nervous, but she gasped when wings emerged from under the woman’s cloak.

  “You are very lovely indeed,” the woman said. “Do not be afraid, young one. I shall not harm you.”

  The words helped, and the young girl believed her sincerity and even felt happy.

  “Can you fly?” the girl asked.

  With teeth gleaming white, she said, “Why yes, I can. My grandmother was a dragon. Do you know what a dragon is?”

  The girl shook her head from side to side.

  “My name is Delilah, and that is just one of many things I will teach you.”

  The little girl sensed something from the woman, but she couldn’t quite figure out what. It wasn’t sight, smell, or sound but an instinct beneath the surface. A warm feeling emanated from the red-skinned woman. The more the child studied her, the stronger it became. An odd warmth built a bridge between the two, and they both smiled at the same time.

  “You feel it, don’t you?” Delilah asked. The child nodded. “It is the greatest of all gifts bestowed upon our people. All living beings, anyone with a beating heart and soul, project what we feel to the world. Demons are the only ones who can feel it. In some cases, they even use it. This I will teach you too.”

  Delilah extended her hand, and with s
ome added patience, the girl finally reached out and took it.

  Lord Udo spoke, but the woman didn’t look at him. Her gaze was on the young, orange-skinned girl.

  “Mistress Delilah, do you swear in the name of the Dark One to watch over this girl? To protect her? To teach her our ways and give her the power she will need in the coming years?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling and exposing glistening white fangs beneath her black lips. “A name. She needs a name.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Something grand,” Delilah added. “Something that…means something.”

  “Um…yes,” Udo replied. “I have given much thought to this and have decided upon a name to honor our Lord Zorach and the Dark One as well.”

  Delilah’s gaze never left the young girl. She rolled her eyes at Udo’s grandstanding, which made the little girl giggle slightly.

  “I have searched through the ancient texts in languages as old as the child’s father, and I have found a name that…” Lord Udo rambled on, to the annoyance of Delilah and the confusion of the little girl.

  Delilah knelt down, close enough so only she would hear.

  “He can talk a bit too much, can’t he?” Delilah whispered and winked.

  The strange woman with the crimson skin made a couple of funny faces that caused the girl to burst out in laughter.

  “You know, I never thought about having children,” the woman went on, “but seeing you, and the potential you have, the potential that I shall see you fulfill—”

  “Morgalla,” Udo bellowed.

  “Hmm?” Delilah replied, checking over her shoulder at him.

  “The child’s name. From this day forth…may all know you as…Morgalla.”

  During Udo’s vain rambling, neither of them had heard the meaning of the girl’s name, something from a long-dead language. But to Delilah, it did not matter. She smiled at the young one again. She stood, and the girl inched close, almost hugging the woman’s leg. Delilah wrapped her cloak around to envelop the child. It was a simple cloth and yet to the child, it was stronger than any armor. Delilah swelled with pride.

  “Morgalla.”

  1

  Secret Mission

  Hell has a library, and it’s run by the Master of Knowledge. The stacks of books were taller than her. But then again, most things were. The book the child carried was very big and heavy. She didn’t even know the subject matter, nor did she care, but its size would fit her needs. She had arranged books into four walls; in the middle of them, she had set the largest book down to sit upon. Within her small fortress of knowledge, Morgalla would fill her mind with lessons her mistress had commanded.

  The ceiling of this chamber was huge with multiple levels. Shelves appeared to go on forever atop iron catwalks. Dusty books were scattered about on the floors and shelved in what appeared to be no order. No signs of life existed except for one small figure…a child of nine.

  Virtually all demons, by the time they were twelve years old, had already executed their first lesser being, but Delilah had kept Morgalla sheltered among the stacks of Hell’s library. Delilah had fallen asleep high upon one of the shelves. The sound of the large book plopping down on the catwalk had awakened her. All six limbs stretched the fatigue from her body, and she rose. She flapped red dragon wings a few times to return the circulation and then leapt off the shelf. Delilah glided down to where she had left her apprentice, finding her within the four walls.

  “Constructed your own little castle, I see,” Delilah noted.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Finish the lesson?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Let me take a look.”

  The girl held up a few sheets of parchment; upon the first was her name written many times. Delilah took the sheets in her claws and flipped through them to see many other words spelled out. Morgalla kept her eyes focused on the book in front of her. Her voice had a tone of aggravation, slipping closer to anger. Delilah, as she studied the child’s writing, couldn’t help but notice that the utensil her pupil had been using was digging deeper and deeper into the paper. She found some doodles on the final page curious; it was a drawing of a woman with red skin and wings, a sword in her hand.

  “You’re improving, child. Excellent.”

  “That purple boy made fun of me the other day.”

  “Oh? What did he do?”

  “He told me all about how great his family is and how I’m nothing.”

  “Striking him might be fulfilling for sure,” the dragon-demon said, “but it could cause friction between his family and yours. They are powerful. Do not forget.”

  “I won’t. I just…hate him…”

  “Yes, I know,” Delilah assured. “Look at me, child.”

  Morgalla obeyed, meeting the gaze of her mistress’s eyes. Delilah’s clawed hands rested upon the wall of books in front of her.

  “He is to never touch you,” Delilah stated with conviction. “If he does…you are to tell me. Understand?”

  “Are you going to kill him?” Morgalla asked with a hint of concern.

  “Oh no. I’ll just cut off his hand. Don’t worry, it will grow back. That will be warning enough.”

  Morgalla giggled as Delilah smirked and winked. The woman then crawled down to the floor and made her way through the castle entrance. Master sat next to student for a moment of silence.

  “Morgalla, I mean it. He is not to touch you.”

  “I understand, Mistress.”

  “Do you think the Master of Knowledge will be angry with your little…redecorating?” Delilah asked, referring to the castle.

  “These books were unshelved.”

  “Librarians love their books. To them, they are the bricks that make up their kingdom.”

  “I’m making the library look nicer,” the girl proclaimed.

  Delilah’s laugh filled the room all the way to the high ceiling, so it sounded like an ancient cavern. She then peered over at the open book Morgalla had been studying. There were pages of pictures with beaches, the sun shining upon the sand and crystal-clear water.

  “Where did you find this?” Delilah asked.

  “It’s pretty.”

  “I guess. But all that sun? I’m sure it’s nice and hot but…too bright.”

  Delilah’s head suddenly snapped, and her eyes averted to another part of the chamber. She must have sensed the presence of others quietly entering the room because she stood and focused on the wall of books, then down from the catwalk to the entrance far below.

  “I think it would be nice to have a house on the beach. What does the ocean smell like?”

  “Shh…” Delilah commanded.

  Peering down to the main hall, Delilah saw a group of demons had entered and seemed to be as stealthy as possible. They were dressed in black, their features hidden from view, but Delilah could, with ease, feel their souls. Unfortunately, their intent was not clear to her.

  “There are others here,” she whispered to her young apprentice.

  “Who?”

  “They’re from the family of the purple boy.”

  “Eww.”

  “Yes,” Delilah agreed and extended her hand. “We should go.”

  “Can I bring the book with me?”

  “I…I guess. I doubt the Master would notice a book like that missing.”

  Delilah took the girl in her arms and leapt off the catwalk and glided down through the darkness. By the time the two of them reached the light of the main hall, the group of demons spotted them. Before they could react, Delilah had already swooped to the main gate and flew out, the child in her arms.

  The Master of Knowledge had been returning, walking up the cobblestone path leading to his kingdom. He was an older demon, one who imposed his will upon the youth of Hell. Instead of joining the many wars fought upon many worlds, he kept his nose in books. Since he had grown in power, demons as young as Delilah dared not cross him directly. She flew past him in a blur, the air swooshing as her wings f
lapped.

  He shouted. “You’d better not have taken any of my books!”

  Morgalla held on with both arms and legs as Delilah’s powerful limbs kept her apprentice close to her. The book was pressed between their bodies, a new treasure the child wasn’t going to lose. Delilah flew towards Zorach’s castle but would land in a courtyard some walking distance away. She set Morgalla down and looked around the area as if searching for something.

  “Velleau,” Delilah called out.

  “Over here.”

  Both ladies watched a demon step forward from the shadows of stone. He was dressed to show off his wealth and power, dripping with gold from expensive robes.

  “Did you get it?” Delilah asked.

  “Yes, of course. You know I had to pull some favors for this.”

  “No gratitude for saving your life? And here I thought you came from one of the more honorable families.”

  “Do you always exploit those in your debt?”

  “It’s not for me,” Delilah said. “It’s for her.”

  “Zorach lets her walk around? Rather dangerous, don’t you think?”

  Velleau nodded to the girl, who returned a shy wave. Morgalla never left Delilah’s side, staying close and holding onto her cloak.

  “But you got it, right?” Delilah asked.

  “Yes, yes. I got it.”

  The blue blood held out a small drawstring bag and handed it to Delilah. She knelt and opened it, pouring the contents onto the ground. A single item fell out. The medallion had seemingly unimpressive features. Both Delilah and Velleau were careful not to touch the trinket with their bare hands.