So a couple of days ago I hit a hundred followers on Facebook! Exciting, right? I know! To celebrate my followers on Facebook, I decided to post a part of an early scene in a book I’m currently working on.
Book one in a series titled Levitators, Prophecy is a story not unlike stories about Elementals. However, this is one book about Elementals you’ve probably never read before. The concept is unique, fresh, and interesting.
Prophecy (#1, The Levitators Series)
By Kachi Ugo
The following is an excerpt of the first draft of an upcoming book by Kindle Bestselling Author, Kachi Ugo. All rights reserved.
Peter arrived at the lookout post and found Mr. Barkley standing in the glaring sun with about five dozen chopped wood lying in scattered heaps around him. There was another man Peter didn’t recognize a little ways down the path, past the large wooden house next to Mr. Barkley. Peter didn’t recognize him, but the man was dressed like a gang biker, chains, tattoos and all. He had a hard look in his eyes, and his hands were balled into fists.
“Hello, Mr. Barkley,” Peter said as he approached the man. “It’s me, Peter.”
A look of confusion flashed across the man’s face. “Peter?” Barkley Sanders was one of Peter’s father’s right hand men. He was a powerful Wooder, though you wouldn’t suspect this, what with his puffy appearance, tender eyes, and simple dressing. He was wearing a plain bottom down shirt and pants.
“Yes,” Peter assured him. “I’m here to see my father.”
A huge smile lit up the man’s face. He tackled Peter in a bear hug. “Peter?” he said afterwards. “It’s been what … five years?”
Peter smiled. “It’s been a long time.”
“Hey, Barkley, is everything alright there?” the other man called.
“Everything is fine, Blake,” Mr. Barkley replied. “It’s Peter Crawford.”
“Come on,” he said to Peter. “Let’s get you inside. Your father and brother will be thrilled to have you back.”
Peter nodded and allowed the big man lead him further down the path. His father he was sure of; his brother, he was not so sure of. Blake nodded at him as they passed by and disappeared into the woods.
“A lot has changed since you left,” Mr. Barkley said.
“Well, first your father is now Chief Elder.”
Peter nodded. He’d heard the news a couple of months ago. His father had won by a unanimous vote of the Council of Elders. Unlike Metalers who had a monarchical system of governance, or the Earthers, who preferred democracy, Wooders favored a communal system of ruling its people. Each clan was guided by an Elder, who was part of the Council of Elders. A Chief Elder was elected every two years and had a final say on every matter concerning Wooders.
“There’s also been a lot of people living in your house since you left,” Barkley continued. They’d left the dirt strip, which ended in a thick wall of trunks, and found a hidden path leading deeper into the forest. Barkley didn’t seem to show any sign of it, but the more time Peter spent in the cover of the towering trees, the more anguish tried to rend his heart. He found himself stifling winces and decided it was better if he didn’t accidently touch any of the trees.
“What do you mean a lot of people?” Peter asked, tensed. He didn’t really like a lot of people. Too many variables.
“It’s as if he couldn’t bear to be left alone after you ran away,” Barkley said, as if a teenager running away from home was as normal as a dog crossing the street. “I mean, when he became Chief Elder, there were more people living in the house and even more people coming in and going out. But it all started when you left.”
Barkley grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to a stop. “Listen to me, kid,” he said in a serious tone. “You left us for good when you were a teenager.”
Peter started to protest. “Mr. Barkley—”
“Ah, ah,” he cut him off, shaking his head. “No one’s accusing you of anything. What I’m saying is I hope you’re back for good.”
Peter kept silent. He was anything but back for good. However, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t get what he wanted by going around telling everybody he was only here to use them.
Mr. Barkley gestured down the path, where it met another dead end. Peter took a closer look, and he realized that it wasn’t just cut off by tall trees. These trees were evidently out of place and wrongly grown … except they’d been Levitated into place. Their trunks were about thirty feet in diameter, rising to a height of about a hundred feet. Like a raft, each trunk looked like they’d been slammed into place to form a formidable wall, stretching away from the path on both sides.
Set in place by reverence, Peter reached out from his core and felt the trunk directly before him. It wasn’t shallow. He could feel its hardness. He could feel its unyieldedness.
“Baobab,” Peter whispered, his gaze following the wall as it went stretching east and out of sight.
“Fire resistant barks, leafless most of the year, toughest tree known to man,” Barkley said with a hint of pride in his voice. “It’s the perfect protective barrier around the Chief’s house.” He paused, gave a look in the direction of the lookout post, and added, “That is, of course, when you add the numerous Wooders patrolling the environs.”
Peter still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The enormity of magical power it would have taken to make the wall. It was staggering. “These trees don’t even grow here. How could he have so many in so little time?”
Barkley smiled. “Growing them is easy, you know that. Levitating them under this atmosphere, now that’s the hard part. Once they had been grown to maturity on the Westside, they’d been transported here. It had almost killed your father to raise up the barrier.” He looked up at the trees around them with a pained look in his eyes. Berkley felt it, too. The struggle and strife. Only he had developed an innate resistance to it.
“No one gets in unless they can Levitate wood,” Barkley said, pulling out of his reverie. “I’ve got to get back.” He turned and walked back the same way they had come.
Peter stood where Barkley had left him, not sure what to do next. He hadn’t done any heavy Levitating since he’d ran away. Not Levitating was one way he could forget about his past. Now he stood before the hardest tree in the world, which his father had used to form a wall around his house, and he was expected to make a path through five layers of it in an area that made it impossibly hard for Wooders to use their powers.
He was beginning to think his father had built the wall specifically to keep him out. The son who had betrayed him and ran away.
Peter desperately thought of alternatives to solve his problem. Yet, no matter how he thought of it, the only way forward was through these Baobab trees.
Peter let his mind fall to silence and took in a deep breath. The pain came rushing back into the fore of his mind. Peter let it swirl there for a moment, feeling decades of violation and outright injustice against wildlife pierce through his consciousness with rabid intensity. He put a leash around the storm and brought it under control like a chariots master.
Peter stepped closer to the four trunks occupying where the road should have been, until he could perceive the raw fruity scent it gave off. He puffed out a breath, swallowed hard, and reached out and touched the rough trunk surface. Immediately, his mind was flooded with imageries of each tree that formed the barrier. Where they’d been grown, their life cycle, what Wooder had manipulated them in anyway. It was strange.
He could feel every one Baobab tree, smell their specific scent, and taste their sweet, tangy flavor on his tongue. The information he was receiving was too much for him to bear, and they kept on pouring into his mind with the force of a flood. Peter’s senses became overloaded by the onslaught, and he began to swoon.
Before he could blackout, he felt another Wooder make contact with the barrier somewhere along its circumference. The Wooder spoke calming and assuring words to him, skillfully channeling some of the inflow away from his mind. Peter pushed back on the inflow, stifling it to a reasonable speed.
It was then Peter realized the ground was vibrating. The trees were responding to him, setting of a vibratory response into the ground. Peter also realized there was a limit to what he could do now he had control of the barrier. He could still sense their unyieldedness.
“I need a path through,” he muttered, reaching two imaginary hands through the middle of the two center trunks. He felt a spark of resistance at the intrusion and paused to let it fizzle. He began to shove them apart. The vibration got worse, the resistance to his mind flared, and the trees began to push apart from each other.
With each feet he moved the trees, he felt his life-force drain away. The ground trembled. Barks wined aloud. Leaves and fruits rained down. Peter fought blackouts, desperately clinging onto life, until a two man path stood between him and the open field beyond.
Peter relinquished his hold of the Baobab barrier and collapsed to the floor. He felt like a massive weight had lifted from him. He found himself panting, and his blue polo T shirt was drenched in perspiration. Peter looked up at the path he had made and the first thing that caught his attention was the impossibly huge mansion standing in the center of a wide open field. Then he saw a crowd of people standing on the other side. And they were all staring at him in amazement.
End of Excerpt
So, did you enjoy it? Pretty sweet, huh? Don’t just read and like this post. Let me know what you think. Leave a comment.
This post was written to celebrate my Facebook followers. If you’re not already following me on Facebook, you can do so right this moment! Great, right? You’ll get updated first about everything, from probable cover arts to probable blurbs to sneak peeks to offers etc.
Follow this link and click the like button: MY FACEBOOK PAGE
Hope you guys are having a great week. I know I am, writing Levitators and preparing Mewranters for publishing.
Kindle Bestselling Author