Sorcery's Hue (A Malion Series Novel)

I Remember

I remember waking up in that tiny cabin deep in the Nevermore woods, and the first thing I saw was the head of my mother, my real mother, sitting on the ground beside my face.

I remember the pit in my stomach that filled and forced me to expel it. I tried not to hit her, I promise. But I couldn't avoid it.

I suppose that was an omen to how I would treat my families.

It was a newly war-torn Osrow. The war had only just come to an end after a gruelling three years, and I only just remember mention of the new Deepshrouds and the remaining Deep Osrocan that took shelter there. King Sectum “The Eradicator” Malion, Ruler of the Beneath, took hold of the Deep Osrocan Population and changed them forever. Their changed Magikas effected mine more than I ever thought. Make mine and theirs darker. Even through I am a Wood Osrocan, my connection to the rest of my kind is strong, and it always had been. Maybe Hue, or “Blight” really is my prophesy. Or Maybe my connection to the Master is stronger than I ever thought it would be.

I remember the way I sobbed and cried all the way to that desolate building full of children who'd lost their parents in one way or another. I don't remember staying there long before a family of Aslantians picked me from the flock of other mentally broken Osrocan children.


They and everyone else on Gaia didn't know what I'd done to my previous family. They'd only chosen me because a tall, young, brown-skinned, black-haired, Osrocan with mesmerising brown eyes was a type of trophy to this family. The "Geth" Family. They definitely had some Osrocan heritage... "Geth" means pitch or tar. Fitting. Their Osrocan family member was probably still alive when I'd been chosen if they were lucky enough not to die before 700.

I remember my father, Gornath Geth, always treated me as his new asset, a gift he'd gotten himself, an object meant to serve him. And when that object didn't obey him, he would "make sure it did" in ways that still force me from slumber. He never harmed his daughter, though. Seline stayed untouched and uncomfortable when we were in a room together. Seline was a lovely little girl. She grew up far too quickly for the Osrocan blood flowing through her. Seline and I had a close bond, and I was considered her younger brother. I was 40, and she was 10. I would have been nearly 6 had my body shown my age more than my time alive. 7 years is one Life Cycle.

"Dark Star," called my new mother, "As a bit of a welcome gift, I figured I'd give you one of my favourite pieces of clothing. Here, my best blouse." She had said to me in a soft tone. It was much too big for me back then, but 10 years and a small growth spurt later, I was wearing it to my initiation to the Academy of Westwine at the fresh age of 7. I remember when Master Faric came to visit me, his tall, regal figure standing, towering above everyone in my household just three years before my initiation.

He had told me: "I heard of your unique Conjurations from a colleague that observed your spells back in Nevermore. Tell me, child: have you an interest in learning past this pitiful stage of Conjuration?" I remember his willingness to take me in, his personal lessons. His apprentice.
I remember Allister...

Let's not get to Allister yet. In fact, let's start off with dear old Dad, shall we? My first encounter with his true self.