The Final Redemption by Michael Manning (little red riding hood ebook free .txt) 📕
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- Author: Michael Manning
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Mal’goroth was the biggest problem. Ihad no easy solution for him. He was bigger, stronger, morepowerful than me, and had nothing to lose. In the past relativepower hadn’t been quite as important. An archmage becomes the powerhe seeks to wield, which meant there were often ways to circumventsuch disadvantages so long as I didn’t lose myself in the process.Against Celior I had borrowed the strength of the earth itself toimprison him, and against Thillmarius I had fused myself with hisidentity in order to steal the spell-weaving that sustainedhim.
Since my struggle with Thillmarius Ihad been unable to exercise my abilities as an archmage. I couldstill hear the voice of the earth, faintly, but I couldn’t seem toreach it. Most of the smaller voices I could no longer hear at all.It was as if a shadowy veil had fallen, isolating me, preventing mefrom touching the universe around me more directly. I stillretained my abilities as a wizard, but I no longer produced my ownaythar, I had to steal it from other living things.
All of this meant that my options fordealing with Mal’goroth were limited. While I had dealt with twoother gods without my abilities as an archmage I didn’t think thosemethods would work here. I had no way to construct a vessel strongenough to contain Mal’goroth, which is how I had captured Karenth,and I certainly couldn’t hope to fool him with a bluff, as I hadwith Doron.
With the knowledge of the loshti,which I was still trying to assimilate, I had the potential toaccess an incredible amount of power. I could thank my ancestralnamesake and Moira Centyr for much of that mixed blessing, but itstill wasn’t enough. Mal’goroth had devoured his fellow dark gods,and possibly Millicenth as well, absorbing their strength andmaking him more powerful than even the strength of all four of theshining gods combined.
The best hope lay in Lyrallianthaherself. While the vast knowledge I held contained countless gemsit was woefully silent on the matter of how to control the darkgods of the She’Har. I simply couldn’t believe that such asophisticated and powerful race would create something thatdangerous without a means of controlling it.
That brought me back to the house infront of me. Inside I could find both the materials to write andsend my letter, and the last remnant of the ancient race that mightdoom or save us. My first step was simply going inside.
My magesight was unable to senseanything within the building; a multitude of enchantments preventedthat sort of prying, which meant I couldn’t tell if anyone wascurrently inside. I was forced to more mundane methods. Followingan alley that led between my house and my still partiallydemolished neighbor’s house I went to the coach house that stood inthe lane behind. It was a separate, and smaller building that I hadpurchased and repurposed years ago.
Tyndal, my father, had apparently hadlittle need for coaches, but my frequent trips to the capital hadmade it clear that we needed easy access to transportation otherthan our feet. We didn’t actually own a coach, or keep horsesthere. We didn’t stay in the city enough for that. Instead weusually borrowed a coach and horses from Lord Hightower, since Roseand Dorian almost always came to the capital with us. On the rareoccasion that we came without them we’d simply borrow one from theking.
A quick look inside showed me that thebuilding was empty, a good indicator that no one was in the houseat present. It was still possible that they were in the city andhad gone out, but if that were the case I only had to worry aboutencountering servants. I was much less fearful of that eventualitythan I was of coming face to face with Penny or one of mychildren.
Now that I could reasonably expectthat they weren’t at home I went back to the front of the mainhouse but there I encountered an unexpected obstacle, though inretrospect I should have considered the possibility. The doorwouldn’t open for me. Shields, no shields—it didn’t matter. Itstubbornly refused to acknowledge my identity, and I already knewbetter than to try forcing it. Years ago I had tried that and thehouse had responded by trying to turn me into an extremely welldone piece of meat.
Staring at my hand helplessly I had asecond idea. There was more than one way to enter the house.Returning to the coach house I went inside; it was normallyunlocked when we weren’t using it, not that a lock would havestopped me.
I withdrew my enchanting stylus fromone of my pouches and rapidly sketched a circular diagram on theground. My memory was still as clear as ever, and I knew thedestination key for every one of the teleportation circles withinmy house. They were all within a single room/hall on the secondfloor, an area set aside for just such things.
Within a few minutes I had a workablecircle. I had constructed the runes using simple scratches in thesoft earth, so I had to be careful not to smudge the lines as Istepped into it. I would only need to use it once, so permanencewasn’t a concern.
A few words and the expenditure of asmall amount of my stolen aythar was all that was needed and Ifound myself inside the hall of circles.
I hardly expected what I foundthere.
Standing in the doorway that led tothe rest of the house was a man in full plate armor, heavilyenchanted and armed with one of the ‘sun-swords’ I had created, inshort, one of the Knights of Stone.
A lifetime of harrowingsituations had honed my reflexes—I responded instantly by gaping athim stupidly. My first thought was, Whyare the Knights of Stone guarding my home? My second thought was perhaps more appropriate,Oh, shit!
Sir Egan, whom I recognized from thedesigns on his breastplate (despite my stupor), reacted much morequickly; his sword was in his hand with a
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