Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,300

comfort. You’ll be taken care of. He has asked me to give your family a home like no other. Follow the mountains east until you come to a small opening just before the mountains drop into the ocean. What you will find there is a glorious existence. Your new home is protected by my power. Your family will always be safe.”

Maldwin’s nose twitched. “Thank you. I did not know George had such powerful friends. When you see him, please tell him I’m honored, and I’ll be there for him if ever he needs me.”

Lasidious squatted and waved his hand over the ground. A huge wheel of cheese appeared. Moving out of the way, he smiled as he watched the Maldwin’s family swarm. Again, the Mischievous One waved his hand, and Maldwin floated into his arms. He positioned the rat so he could see the rodent’s eyes. “You can tell George yourself. I’m sure you will see him again.” With that, Lasidious lowered Maldwin to the ground and then vanished.

Keller looked down and watched as the rats ate. He growled, “You could’ve left me something!”

The World of Luvelles

When George arrived in the village of Floren on Western Luvelles with Athena’s family, it was just past Late Bailem. The mage loved this new world. Everything he had seen since their arrival had been created with magical influences. The magic on this world was much, much stronger than anything he had seen on Southern Grayham. In some areas, the air carried the sweet smell of it.

The people seemed friendly, but George and Kepler noticed that there was a dark side. Two-faced whispers and passing glances told a story of a deeper, darker nature that lurked below the pleasing surface that many of Western Luvelles’ inhabitants presented.

This journey had taken them through other villages of similar size, but they did not appear on George’s map. The general look and feel of this world’s smaller homes exuded class, and magic was used to create many items that did not exist on Southern Grayham. It was nice to have a cold drink instead of a warm ale.

As the family entered Kebble’s Kettle, Kepler did not need to hide. Along the way, they had seen many elves walking through the countryside with various breeds of animals.

The inn was comfortable, and Kebble’s Kettle was like an upscale boutique hotel from Earth, but with many magical upgrades. The walls looked as if they were made of any normal construction material, but upon a closer inspection, George realized that they were made of flesh—the structure was alive.

As George passed his hands across the surface, millions of tiny hairs tickled the palms of his hands. The walls possessed a natural warmth, just like the human body.

This is fascinating, George thought. I wonder how this is done? The magic on this world must be disgusting. How cool is this?

Aside from a small check-in counter to the left of the entrance, the dining area and the tavern occupied the rest of the spacious room. George watched as one of the patrons ordered a drink. The man reached out and pulled the beverage from mid-air as the drink floated over to his table. “Now, that’s what I call service,” George said as he nudged Athena. “I’m going to like this joint.”

Athena tugged at George’s sleeve and whispered, “George, my family is scared. What should I tell them?”

George pulled her close. “Tell them I’ve got everything under control. I won’t let anything happen to them. Besides, look at this place. It’s amazing. Let’s pass judgment once we’ve finished looking around, not before.”

The colors of the inn were earth tones. They were pleasant to the eye, as was the vaulted ceiling that shot up above the fifth story. There were no stairs leading to the remaining levels of the structure, nor were there elevators. They watched a woman step onto a small circular platform and vanish. She reappeared on a balcony three floors up.

“No freaking way,” George boasted. “This is like some kind of Star Trek garesh. The magic in this place is nuts.”

Athena slapped George’s arm. “George Nailer, watch your mouth.”

George would have responded to apologize, but a dustpan flew past his head. As it did, it asked to be excused as it made its way to the far side of the room. A small, brown broom had followed close behind, and it pushed the dirt off the floor and into the pan. The tools then disappeared through a set of double doors on the