These were the first issues of the Ology World magazine that a friend and I wrote but that club has now been deleted so I'll post them here, they're about my character Éncréa.

Issue 1
30th May 2006

In ages gone by, there was an island that has existed only in dreams, prophecies and to a select few destined to be trapped there for all eternity, but now a war is brewing, and the seven great lands on the island of Requinia must decide who they shall back and who they shall fight. There is tension in the air and five of the clans are wary. They stay in their own land and wait. And all the time five of the Seven eyes on the mysterious Isle of the Seven are watching...

One square mile of the fair and forever green land of the Wind Caller Priestess had already been burnt asunder by a troop of the Fire clan trying to destroy the source of the River of War that is protected at the edge of that land. An attack had already been made directly on the Temple of the Pure Fountain, but it had been met with a cold counter attack by but a mere five of the Water clan, and had finally been defeated when the Mist Master came out and directed the mighty River of War to flow right through them. Twenty of them were washed away, right to the Sea, and were never heard from again. There were rumours of a heartless evil that was being awakened by the Blaze Emperor, but what it was none could say. A shadow began to fall over the peak of Mt. Incendere, where the capital city of the Fire Clan lay. Water’s victories came at a higher price and fewer in number.
Twilight’s Grace, Empress of Peace, tried to convince the Blaze Emperor to stop his marches against Water and to give up on whatever it was he had found that he believed was worth risking their Island’s lineage and way of life. He was not able to directly hurt her for as soon as the lava had erupted from his floor and flown at her, Twilight’s Grace had thrown magical shields around herself and negated his magic, but the force had thrown her off the mountain and she turned up on the Isle of the Seven a few days later looking like her own ghost.
Then the Blaze Emperor began to make a march upon Anmeas, the capital of Balance, in an attempt to take the throne from Twilight’s Grace and seat his creature of evil upon it. As soon as news of this reached the Land of Water, the Mist Master took council with his two advisors who had helped him to settle his clan back into relative peace, Lozeko and the Wind Caller Priestess, leader of Wind. They both agreed with him that they too must make a march to meet that of the Fire clan and try and save what they could of Twilight’s Grace’s kingdom, for the Mist Master and Wind Caller Priestess still backed her and would not blame her for her mistake in the prison. As much as they wished there was another way, not even if the Mist Master directed the River of War at its most torrential power could the Blaze Emperor be defeated or averted. So the Mist Master quickly gathered an army, and the Wind Caller Priestess sent fifty of her warriors to help, though she herself could not and went instead to the Isle of the Seven.
When, a couple of days later, they arrived at the Plains of Anmeas, just outside its gates, they saw the Fire clan come into view. The warriors at the front drew their swords, the banner of Water with its intricate and strange writing bearing the saying held fast by the Water clan, and engraved into the entrance of all the buildings and palaces and temples: Doubt not the terrible, treacherous and merciless power of the sea, or its mighty followers. The Mist Master and Blaze Emperor then stepped forward to meet each other in battle, the tradition for the beginning of a battle that had not been needed for 2637 years, since the beginning of the last battle between Water and Fire. And as the Blaze Emperor glared at the Mist Master, those eyes burned with a savage Shadow Flame that could belong to no other being except one, for no other being was strong enough to rival or conquer the mind of one of the Seven...



Issue 2
2nd June 2006

Water and fire, long enemies, have now taken it upon themselves to solve an ancient feud lasting for generations of warriors. Which of the two strongest factions is the most powerful? Their leaders The Mist Master and The Blaze Emperor have always had great conflicts between themselves, but for them near immortality means that they often forgot that their followers lives were far more fragile. The Blaze Emperor has waited long to leave his prison on the Isle of the Seven. A prison created by Twilight’s Grace with the power of the five in an attempt to stop him from rousing his followers to war and the destruction of the Island of Requinia. A prison designed to stop war yet only to be broken by the act of war it was designed to stop.

Unknowing of the prison that the Blaze Emperor every day seek to break, the fire clan have declared war on the Land of Water. With an absence of their leaders they have turned to the only council that they know: a council of war. Decades ago when the fatal flaw in the design of her prison was discovered by the leaders of the four, Twilight’s Grace lost the support of the other leaders. Fully knowing that the prison must now be broken she tried a last attempt to reconcile Water and Fire and keep her lands safe. Renaming the slopes on her fire border Slopes of the peaceful flame, and the dale at the water border Dale of the Watching Mist. She also renamed her two most important border cities: City of the Water’s Gateway and Fireway’s Passage. A diplomatic move to reconcile the sins of her past and save her lands and people from certain death. But in a cruel twist of fate as some would say, or as others would call it, the penalty for trying to stop a certain war will be that neither the Land of Water nor the Land of Fire that will be ravaged but her own Lands of Twilight that lies between the two. With their leader now trapped weak on the Isle of the Seven without the strength to get back or the goodwill of the lesser factions to aid her return is there any hope for the people of the Twilight Lands, the keepers of peace?

10,000 years previous the Seven had not existed, but there were the Eight. The Portal Land was once the great and glorious Portal Kingdom, ruled by the eldest and most powerful of the Eight, Lancantir. However, things were not as they seemed, for to look upon the Portal Kingdom it looked fair and wonderful as ever, but underneath it was rotting and smouldering and its inhabitants were passing into the grey shadows that inhabit that land today. Lancantir finally brought his evil and deceit to the surface, revealing his terrible army. His land died that day, having neither light nor dark, day nor night. The Seven then attacked him at the source of his power, in the capital city of Portallis, and found that not only had his land and people been transformed but he had as well, being a thing of deep shadow, evil, misery – and death. They could not have killed him even if they had been trying, so they tried undo him and dissipate his power. Though they could not fulfil this, they were able to take his form to the very edge of existence, being neither living nor dead, his power being severely weakened, and then they rose the Isle of the Seven out of the sea and entombed him in a cavern far down. And it was this that was the undoing of the prison made by Twilight’s Grace.



Issue 3
June 5th 2006

Five of the Seven were now gathered round Lancantir (who was using the Blaze Emperor as his physical form). The Mist master had conjured up an Orbulace Mirror and Twilight’s Grace was using the Isle Orbulace to look through the mirror. Lancantir now slightly expanded around the body of the Blaze Emperor so as to have the look of his old body back.
“Fools!!” Lancantir cried. “Every last one of you, fools!! You thought that by taking me out of my physical form then you would be able to get me out of the way and allow you to imprison me? I was trying to do exactly that myself, but for the first time in my life I had found that I did not have enough power, and I was going to use my army to take your power and add it to my own, thus enabling me to do so. But alas you did it for me! While being imprisoned in the Isle of the Seven was not what I had hoped, at least 10,000 years is long enough for me to nearly pass out of your memory.” Then turning to the image of Twilight’s Grace in the Orbulace Mirror, “And as for you, little sister. Your prison was just what I needed, and to think that the Blaze Emperor was overflowing with hatred, oh it was delicious!! Haha!! Unfortunately for all of you physically present here, except for the Mist Master, you are no longer needed for my entertainment, now away with you, and I hope you find the Isle of the Seven as pleasant a prison as I did!!” With a wave of his hand a shadow seemed to pass over them and then they were gone, even the mirror broke, leaving the Mist Master alone with Lancantir.
“Brother!! You were the eldest of us when you were once human and good hearted, please come back to us!! You could heal your land and we could all once again be the Eight. But no, I suppose that chance for you is long past.”
“Indeed it is, Éncréa. Yes I still remember your names of old, even though your followers do not. But I wished to speak to you alone of a great power beyond your hopes.” At these words the Mist Master realised that Lancantir must be up to something more than he had at first thought, and prepared to attack him. “Don’t even try.” As he said those words the Mist Master felt a power invade his mind and he could not reach his magic. “You may be the eldest of the Seven, but I am still older and in this form now more powerful. However, I did not want to show you my power. You must see that you and are alike in power, you could rise above the others. They could live their lives away quite happily on the Isle of the Seven, as you and I rebuilt Requinia into what it should be, a land of water and glory!!”
“No, you do – do not mean...what you say...”
“Of course I do, beloved brother of mine”, and Lancantir’s face seemed to be transfigured there into one of hope and light, no deceit remained. “Now join me!!” Lancantir clasped his hand onto the Mist Master’s head and forced him down. The Mist Master took out his sword and offered Lancantir fealty.
“Swear your oath in the ancient language, so that you cannot break it and are bound to your word.”
“Éncréa wrh baigh lahd íchsh xá, Lancantir.”
“Good, now go and rest, you will need your strength for the task I have in store for you tomorrow.”

The Blaze Emperor made the first move by throwing a lava shot at the Mist Master. With that their armies began their battle as well, while the one between the two of the seven raged at the centre, though only the Mist Master was aware that this was one battle that was doomed to failure.



Issue 4
12th June 2006

The shadow deepened on the Twilight Lands. Istanieu look out of the window over the letter she was writing. Darkness was falling over the city the persistent gloom had not lifted in the past few days and she was worried it never would. She looked back down at the letter she was writing.

Dear Lozeko, it said
I must ask you to comeback to the evening council. I realise that you need to help the Mist Master with his “War Campaign” how I hate to write that word. But, I must insist, as you must have heard my dear friend and leader the Empress of Peace has been forced back to the Isle of the Seven. We do not have any training in the art of warfare and thought I wish there was a way I could solve this without the need of war but I hate to admit it there is not. Without Twilight’s Grace we cannot stop the Grey marches extending. We are defenceless.
Istanieu,
Leader of the evening council

Back in the Land of Water Lozeko sighed and looked up from the letter he had just received. He called in a servant,
“Tell the Mist Master that I need to see him urgently”
The servant scurried away and moments later the Mist Master appeared in the doorway. Lozeko silently handed the letter to him. As he read the hastily scrawled note his usually smooth face discovered how to frown.
“I hate to loose you Lozeko but she is right the Twilight Lands are under heavy shadow and they need your help. However I will go with you at least for a little while.” Unnoticed by the Mist Master, Lozeko’s face fell.
“I think I know how I could contact Twilight’s Grace.” The Mist Master whispered.
Lozeko was confused and his face showed it. “The Isle Orbulace”. Lozeko looked even more confused.

On the Isle of the Seven twilight’s Grace was fretting. She was very weak and bored. She had found the Isle Orbulace but had not the power of the will to operate it. Looking back she decided that she was too young for this job. Empress of Peace she didn’t even understand herself so how was she supposed to keep the peace between the leaders let alone the factions? A tear landed on the Orbulace in her lap. She hastily brushed it away.
“I’m too young for this I shouldn’t have to take charge over my faction. Its not right.” She murmured. “All the others took charge when they thought fit; I had to start when they told me.” Another tear had fallen on the Orbulace and round it a swirling mist had started to form. Twilight’s Grace didn’t notice she was beyond caring. “Xí Lancasia lahd fra xú iheraí xć fra xú vingath xć fra xú bencíá xĩ xá xĩ reí il xá ki bri lex sila xį lex xxiaů” the words in the ancient language rolled over her tongue like water. “I Lancasia give all my power and all my land and all my people to you to use as you see fit for good or for evil" “if only it could be that simple. Those words once help power but they were dead now. No life giving light filled her, no hope. They had lost all power for her since she had given up her hope on the prison of her brother.

She wiped her eyes and stared into the Orbulace in her lap her swirling mist had spread. She could see a face in the deaths. Hidden by the mists as it was it looked evil. She was about to throw it from her when she heard a voice
“Wait”, spoken in the old language. She recognized the voice. Unfortunately, the effort of finding the Orbulace had been too much for her that day, she fainted and the Orbulace rolled from her lap down the stairs at her feet.



Issue 5


When she woke Twilight’s Grace was sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. She rubbed her bruised head and tried to clear the fog out of her mind. She rolled over and felt something hard and round push against her back, she groaned and rolled the other way onto her hands and knees. Looking round she could see that the round object was in fact the Isle Orbulance. When she had finally got herself into a sitting position and she was fairly certain that she would not suddenly fall over she reached over and pulled the Orbulance onto her lap. It was heavy and she was weak but she got it into a position where she could rest it on her lap and look into it. At first she could see very little but after rubbing her eyes to clear the muck she could see that there was a concerned face staring at her. In her current confused state she could not recall who it was although it did look familiar. She started to turn away. She wanted to workout where she actually was. Then came that voice. The voice she had heard earlier.
“Wait” in the old language. It commanded her and so she drew her gaze back to the Orbulance.
“Who are you? What are you?” she whispered back in the same language.
“You do not know me?” the person sounded surprised.
“Should I know you? Because I do not.”
The figure sighed and his face drew away. She could see a room in which stood two other people all of whom she felt she recognized but did not know who they where. The figure she had first seen was talking to the other two, his voice was soft and she could not hear what he was saying. She looked around the room they were in trying to gauge some idea of where they were. It was decked out in purple. Covering the windows where thin purple drapes that let in a soft light. A large table dominated the room.
“I know that place,” she muttered. Twilight’s Grace closed her eyes and pictured that place as she had last seen it. Realisation dawned on her. “Istanieu” she cried. The face came back and a smile broke his face.
“You’re back,” he said in the common speech.
“That I am, that I am. Though where you think I went I’m not entirely sure, Éncréa.” His smile grew but before he could say anything she laughed. “Don’t worry I’m fine or at least as fine as I could be in these circumstances. Though I can’t get back.”
“Istanieu, Lozeko, could you leave us please?” asked the Mist Master.
“Of course,” they shuffled out of the room, amazed that the Mist Master had just let them go, together. They couldn’t have wished for anything better.
When they were out of the room Lancasia said, “Éncréa my love. I am sorry, I’m just too weak to get out.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be just fine, we’re all going to confront Lancantir tomorrow, and then we will be able to come and free you, and we’ll be together again. And remember that it’s thanks to you bringing that dragon through the Portallis and distracting and then attacking Lancantir with it that resulted in out victory outside Lasting Hope.”
“I have a foreboding about your meeting tomorrow.”

The battle raged on and on, and all the while the mages and the two leaders were all trying to protect their armies. Éncréa noticed the second in command of Fire, Hasitu, advancing on one of his smaller troops led by Fairion. But just as it looked like Fairion and his group were going to be killed by a shot from Hasitu’s bow, a great roar came from over in the south. Lancantir and Éncréa both sensed that something had just been let through the Portallis. This broke Lancantir’s concentration and his shadow that he had laid upon the minds of the Fire warriors was lifted so that they came to their senses and realised what they were doing. Hasitu lowered his bow.

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