Introduction

On the planet Darracia, an ever-widening social gap between its inhabitants is causing turmoil that is fracturing a once peaceful world. Struggling with his identity, nineteen year old Prince V'sair must harness the power of the elusive Fireblade, the secret to a warrior's heart, in order to overcome his uncle Staf Nuen's lust for supremacy. Will the energy of the Elements guide the young prince to his true destiny or will Staf Nuen conquer Darracia? After the success of his first three books (Brood X, Stillwell, and The Hanging Tree) Michael is fulfilling a dream and creating his own epic fantasy world. Schism: The Battle for Darracia is the first book in a planned series.

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Excerpt

Pacuto and his men surrounded V’sair, long spears menacing him. He glanced back into the shadows warning Tulani not follow him out into the open.

“V’sair, V’sair… you have lead us a merry chase. At last,” he gestured the bag, “ a double victory. A fortune in crystals for me and my men, and a personal triumph for the house of Nuen,” he spat close to V’sair’s foot. “Where is the girl? Tell me where your little playmate is...didn’t your Mo’mo teach you to share?” he taunted, his face grinning triumphantly.

“This is crazy, what are you doing? You will jeopardize the Accord!”

“The Accord and your father’s reign is finished! This the the beginning of the end of your father’s tyranny. The possibility of peace dies tonight with YOU!” Pacuto laughed, “But this is hardly a fair fight, is it, men? I can sweep off his royal head,” he waved his Tyreath near the prince’s face. “No, no,this will be too easy. You have begged for the chance to test your skills with the Fireblade. I will kill you as you mangle that chance. Then I will take the girl on your cold body!” He threw his small dagger onto the ground, then withdrew his Fireblade which roared to life.

V’sair’s breath caught with rage, his face suffused with blue.

He nodded to one of his henchmen, who removed his sword from his belt and threw it to the prince. It landed at his feet with a thud and Pacuto continued, “Oh this will be fun. Pick it up, V’sair. This is your opportunity to finally take the test of the Fireblade. Defend yourself!”

V’sair bent down without taking his eyes from his cousin to pick up the handle of the blade. It was useless without the engagement of the soul of a warrior. He was not trained, had never held one and for the moment it was dead weight in his hand. It took years to learn how to clear the brain to accept the Fireblade’s power. He turned burning eyes on his cousin.

“By now, your lady mother has been spitted by my father’s blade, your father the king will be looking for his head and it is the dawn of MY HOUSE!”

Waves of hatred unfurled through V’sair’s body. He pulsed with anger, his eyes become slits of hate. The tang of the blade hummed, turning a faint red, vibrating with some force he barely noticed through the haze of pain that glazed his eyes. Pacuto watched with amusement and held up his sword which blazed with the power of experience. Glowing red from top to bottom, he thrust it for a killing shot, and was mildly surprised when V’sair deflected it.

The strength of Pacuto’s strike resonated from his arm to his heart, the bruising force of his strength nearly incapacitating the prince. He caught a glimpse of Tulani, and warned her shocked face, urging her silently to run to safety. She stood frozen with horror, her hands cupped over her mouth with mute fright. She worried that she distracted him, so she slid back into the safety of the foliage.

The two men circled each other, the crackling fire the only sound of the night. They moved to the ancient dance of death, testing each other with a flick here, a feint here, a parry there. Pacuto expertly flicked with deadly accuracy, opening small wounds along V’sair’s torso. Stepping forward, Pacuto rushed in, his sword flashing before V’sair’s eyes and he felt it push into the meat of his shoulder, to the bone. Shock warred with pain, and he pulled himself off the blade, hearing the sucking sound of his flesh as the sword slid free.

“This is too, too easy, V’sair. And to think, you had pretensions to kingship. I am ashamed to call you kinsmen,” Pacuto laughed, showing two rows of sharp teeth. “Then I will find that Quyroo slantern and sink my Fireblade in her…”

V’sair’s face turned blue with fury, as he screamed and attacked Pacuto with a strength born of hatred. The Fireblade glowed with red intensity, glowing with a hatred V'sair could feel. The night was filled the clanging of metal against metal, and they fought in the open meadow, firelight illuminating the battle. Blood saturated his clothes from various slashes and the prince felt himself fading. Pacuto neatly sliced here and there, soon the prince was covered with blood, from the mass quantity of all the small cuts.

Dizziness overwhelmed him, his blood dripping quietly to be absorbed by the forest floor. The blade felt heavy in his hand, and he raised the tip with effort. Their sword points met, and electrified each other, the weapons screaming with the touch of the positive and negative forces colliding. Pacuto sliced again, opening V’sair’s right side from armpit to hip. The Prince was weakening, and when Hother sensed her master’s trouble, she screamed. Pacuto grinned, “Ah Hother, your head will decorate my stable.” Raising his weapon, he moved in the for kill.

V’sair watched with detached calm, knowing he was about to die, when he heard Tulani’s scream rent the air, “Noooooo!”

“Ah, Tulani, right? Let me finish with this boy and then show you a man!” Pacuto grinned with malice. He laughed hard, and with his free hand, he reached into his belt for his Tyreath. Deftly, he flicked his wrist, neatly severing the prince's royal blade. "My trophy!" Pacuto's eyes gleamed with triumph. "I will ahng it from my sword handle next to your father's!" He tucked it into his belt.

V'sair's fury bubbled up through his veins like white hot lava.Concentrating his waning strength, V’sair reached deep inside himself feeling something light up like a sun. Filling with warmth, he watched his blade grow with power, from a dull red to a fierce and threatening violet. It’s blaze lit the prince’s face, and ignoring the fatigue, he visualized a ball of energy that embracing his every pore. He became the aggressor, going after Pacuto, who now backed away defensively. The sword had a life of his own, moving his hand to where it would have the best advantage. Pacuto felt the steel bite the flesh of his arm, slicing deep. They fought like demons, the light from the fire painting their faces so that they glowed wetly with sweat in the dark night. The battle raged, and Pacuto stopped his insults working hard to keep his balance against the Fireblade of his cousin. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1-In what ways are V'sair's problems universal for both himself and his parents?

2- What are some of the political, financial, and religious issues that seem familiar to our own world?

3- What moral question can be derived from the book that are similar to our own world?

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