###
I hope that have you enjoyed this book and that you will seek out other books written by me in the future. The story continues on my blog in the form of a fan-fiction where I introduce you to my other characters as they explore Japan. I encourage you to review my book and let me know how you felt about it.
The Story Behind the Book
This book was actually written as an indirect means to address the inherently mystifying state of knowledge. Knowledge may seem like the discovery of an objective undeniable truth but in reality it is merely an informed guess regarding limited information. Like many physical structures, with time information is degraded, evidence is lost to chaos, records become unreadable as static takes its place and the media itself falls apart, even memories are altered as one’s perspective gradually changes. Vital information about Maria Rivera is lost after her father dies, leaving everyone pursing her in a state of bewilderment about the nature of her condition.
I was going to leave it as that, one could never recover information that has been lost over time, but at the end I made an escape to allow Maria a life of safety in the past, finding a happy ending preferable to a life of uncertainty or heartache. If time travel is possible then information can be recovered before the effects of time have even set in. But even if one could recover information one would still struggle to establish absolute statements of causation for there are often multiple different causes. One would only be able to make such a claim if they knew no other explanation would be adequate to produce the resulting state but even then many forces act as ghosts, going unseen yet producing predictable reliable results. To understand such forces one would need to understand the nature of reality but such things are difficult to study and even more difficult to prove with absolute certainty.
Even if one knew everything there was to know I doubt they would be able to predict the future for forces often interact oddly with each other after they have been freed from the delicate balance that we define as order. Maria Rivera is thought to be an abnormality because her father had formed an unique treatment for a poorly defined disease, tampering with the most complex organ in the human body, affecting abstract constructs such as mental abilities in unforeseen ways.
Acknowledgements
I thank every artist that contributed to the public domain, especially the artist that created this book cover. As a budding author the idea of spending hundreds on the perfect book cover, for a book that will probably never sell, is intimidating. Most writers are comfortable using words to sell their books but put them in front of a canvas and their boundless creativity is stunted. I would never be able to create these book covers without the aid of these artists and photographers.
To show my appreciation to the public domain in general, I am going to upload a number of pictures of my own into the public domain to replace the ones I took. I have been selfishly hoarding these pictures in hopes of using them to create book covers so they are sort of my personal domain of images. I no longer have a need for them so I hope that another desperate writer will make good use of them.
The Residue of Ancient Magic
Another book that you may enjoy is The Residue of Ancient Magic which is about a war between magical beings, which are commonly known as Intrintelos, and the King who has been charged to protect the citizens under his keep. The Intrintelos are hunted down like common beast for posing a threat to the kingdom and its people but the Intrintelos aren’t going down without a fight. The battleground becomes even more heated when a young girl emerges from an overlooked town, possessing the incredible power of an Intrintelos.
Prologue
If only he knew what he was accepting, when his father took that crown from off his head, presenting it to him as if it were a treasured heirloom. For the first time that he could recall, his thin lips were holstered up by a surge of emotion, forming an expression that became foreign when mirrored on his face. The only grin that held any significance in a life of imposed civility.
The King rolled over, entangling himself farther in the silk covers, tormented by his own thoughts.
If only he knew what that crown entailed. If only he understood the true cause of his father’s grin.
The young king swatted away one of his pillows, casting it onto the ground.
Surely he was not the cause of such a grin, he who always sought to invoke such a look of pride. It was not pride that contoured his face in such an appealing manner. It was relief. Death was nearly upon him, snatching away the burdens of life, relieving him of the duty of king, lolling him into a deep sleep where he would be at peace forevermore.
The King rose, freeing himself from the cocoon of blankets. The drafty room stole away his warmth with an icy touch.
It was now his duty to protect the people. Everyone looked to him for answers, demanding them of him with tears pouring from their eyes as they desperately grabbed hold of the bottom of his robes before the knights forced them out. Their cries were all that he could hear when he closed his eyes and all that he thought of as he sat upon that throne awaiting their return.
He peeled the silken covers off his sweat-drenched body in disgust before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He pulled himself to his feet, wincing as his bare feet made contact with the marble floor. He began to pace the length the room, his feet slapping against the stone with every step he took.
He was just a man. No magic hid within him, waiting to be discovered. He was just a man yet he must stand against beings capable of undoing reality, bending the laws of nature until impossibility becomes a word used only by the naïve. He was expected to stand against monsters, once normal citizens that have been transformed by magic, men that have become like beasts.
How could he protect his people when some have boundless power that climbs forever skyward as lesser authorities scurry about their feet in fruitless attempts to restraint them. Even he, the King, is at their mercy, for a burst of rage could destroy them all.
He spun on his heels before doubling back across the room.
Something needed to be done about the Intrinte, or so they were called, but how could he accept the solution of his forefathers? How could he order his knights to kill the people who he had been charged to protect. How could he stand by while noblemen slaughtered young children that have begun to develop odd inhuman features? How can he watch as families, that are supposed to be bound to each other, denounce their relations out of fear? Their only crime is that magic chose them among many and that they fell prey to it, unable to keep the deluge of energy at bay.
How could he give the order? It seemed like the Intrinte could be contained within the dungeon. He did not know why they couldn’t live out their lives there? There they would no longer be a danger to his people and surely it would be better than death.
He glanced out the window, gazing at the full moon that sat upon a bed of clouds. The darkness, that was left unilluminated by the moon’s light, concealed the rest of the land from sight.
How could he have known that creatures of such rarity, as to be thought of as nonexistent, would came in great numbers drawn by the magic that gravitated around the imprisoned Intrinte. The creatures were not a threat. They seemed relatively placid when in the presence of the Intrinte and allowed the knights to move them about on heavy chains, even approach their young. They just seemed to bask in the magic that was drawn to them though they never strayed far for they had no need of food or water when in the Intrintes’ presence. Though as harmless as they were they only increased the citizens’ apprehension.
He stepped through the moonbeam that cut through the shadows, continuing on across the darken room.
He did all he could to restore the prisoners’ lives but with only a small portion of the tax payers money, he could not provide much. It was hard enough in the past to care for a few legitimate prisoners and he was facing a real challenge with his dungeon at full to capacity. He could not raise taxes any higher without harming his people. There
was nothing that he could do.
Despite everything, the Intrinte began to wither away as starvation took them. Depression robbed them of their powers, leaving them as little more than silent beasts brooding in the shadows, watching the sunlight pass through their iron bars.
He stumbled over the pillow that he had knocked of the bed earlier before kicking it out of the way.
He almost could not blame the Intrinte when they rose from their slumber of complacency. They seemed like odd beasts that had suddenly regained their voices, violently demanding food. The knights tried to subdue them but were overwhelmed by their collective force.
The Intrinte escaped from the castle and eventual from the kingdom. He told the knights to pursue them no farther than the kingdom boundaries so not to leave the kingdom unprotected. He honestly thought the problem had been resolved after the Intrinte fled though this was simply one generation. In a short amount of time, more appeared in their place.
His eyes settled on his crown that sat on the top of his wardrobe. The heavy gold bands and the large gems made it feel like a well decorated helmet, an artifact from a war long past, stolen from a wealthy warrior.
He decided that the only way to protect his kingdom and allow the Intrinte to live free lives would be to bring them to the land the