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266 pages

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CK―Christopher Knight―has a secret, he’s a psionic; a human with the ability to will things to happen with the power of his mind. And while he has kept to the shadows, Christopher has always dreamt about being a hero. But hanging from the ceiling of a cave being tortured, and getting his face pummeled by an orc, wasn’t part of the dream. 

When merchant ships start capsizing off the coast of Corsana, the port city mayor of Asic is forced to put out the call for adventurers to investigate. Seeing his chance at hand, CK leaps into the fire. Thrust into a hodge-podge group of unknown, untested, mercenaries―each with their own agendas for being there―CK must train, trust, and risk everything to become the hero he wants to be. 

Before him lies an unknown destiny, but as that destiny begins to reveal itself, and a villain to focus on emerges, the eyes of a powerful presence―far greater than any he could have imagined―will be drawn to him; that is, if he can survive. And in a world teeming with goblins, orcs, giants, and dragons, and danger lurking around every corner, all odds are against him!


How It All Began • (pg. 1)


Connections and The Past • (pg. 28)


Our Training Begins • (pg. 48)


The Lighthouse • (pg. 61)


Geonish and The Red Dragon • (pg. 72)


Perception Is Reality • (pg. 89)


Arcane Echelon • (pg. 104)


As the Weather Changes • (pg. 119)


Passions Run High • (pg. 133)


Taken Prisoner • (pg. 150)


Tomb of Ma’Kur • (pg. 162)


Back to The Present • (pg. 179)


Everything Comes at A Price • (pg. 194)


Family • (pg. 209)


Politics • (pg. 227)


Going Their Separate Ways • (pg. 242)


The Weight of The World • (pg. 256)


Gaining Insight • (pg. 274)


It’s All About Timing • (pg. 288)


Profit and Bloodshed • (pg. 306)


Thinking Outside the Box • (pg. 322)


The Stratic Cup • (pg. 340)


Castle of Shorallen • (pg. 355)


New Paths • (pg. 368)


Publié par
Date de parution 01 juin 2018
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9780997255683
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0012€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.


Copyright © 2015, 2017, 2021 Charles Wellington II
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Charles Wellington II
ISBN-13: 978-0-9972556-9-0
ISBN-10: 0-9972556-9-0
Visit the author at:
Also available in eBook
Cover Art by: Paul Davies
Map Art by: Monika Andruszkiewicz
Formatting by: Dreams2media
Editing by: That Editor Chick

This book is dedicated to the following.
To my family;
Staci Carter, Draven Carter, Christian Werner, and Charles Wellington Sr.
Thank you for your love, support, and tremendous patience.
Without you, this would have never been possible.
To my friend and mentor;
It is because of you that I have an excellent foundation for worldbuilding. Thank you.
And last, but certainly not least;
To my friends and supporters:
Thank you for all your time, effort, and patience.
(Alphabetically): Andrea Rose, Brandy Bisson, Chris Lee, Christian Franklin, Cory Bisson,
Cory Hauser, David Jones, Geoff Kettling, Janet Wellington, John Ross, Kris Bright, Malachi Balleweg,
Matthew Cobb, Nicole Franklin, Misty Ross, Nicole Franklin, Robi McMordie, Shaun Smith,
Thomas Buster, and William Taylor.

You are about to take a glimpse into the world of Corsana, a world very different than the one in which you currently reside. Here, there’s no technology, at least not technology like you know it. But that’s not for lack of trying.
Corsana is not a medieval world full of illiterate people. And it’s not to be looked at as a world that is behind yours— as belonging somewhere in the past— or beyond yours— existing somewhere in the future after some cataclysmic event.
Corsana exists right now, in this very room.
If you were to wave your hand in the air, it might just be moving through a dragon.
Corsana exists in a parallel dimension to ours. But on their Earth, the continents adjusted differently and, more importantly, the Earth itself evolved in ways radically dissimilar to ours.
For example, their world is constantly emitting an electromagnetic pulse. Which is why technology doesn’t work there. And, while people there have tried at times to bring the world into an age of industrialization, it always seems as if the world itself has spewed forth creatures to prevent this leap forward from happening.
The earth has long since entered its quaternary period, “The Age of Venēficus” or magic. A topic which has often started many arguments as the elves have always stated that magic was never conjured, but part of the living core and always has been.
Due to the magical energy infused within every atom, technology is non-existent. The world has continued to move along in its current state. Alchemists have tried to expand their current way of life, attempting to bridge the gap between an age of ropes and pulleys while hoping to thrust them forward into a world of steam-powered monstrosities, a new industrial state. But the earth itself has rebelled. Enormous explosions, deaths, and catastrophes surrounding any attempt or experiment.
As such, the world moved forward with new construction techniques, plumbing, and more, but with the power of a man’s hands and the assistance of those with the will to channel the magical energies that flow through this existence. Progress has been slow— the cost of using such energy has always been very physically taxing on the individual channeling that power.
It is because of this that their world skewed down a different course in ways that have led them towards the mystical and alchemical arts.
It is because of all these mysterious anomalies and because the line between our worlds, our realities, are so thin at times, that things such as words, phrases, and ideas seem to float between one another; that you might feel like you could walk through a doorway and appear in a new land, a new world, a new universe.
To that extent: Welcome to the world of Corsana.
Read. Listen. Remember. And Learn.
For the next time you walk through a doorway, you might just find yourself in a world of swords, shields, and magic.
C. Wellington II


Chapter 1
How it all began

Chapter 2
Connections and The Past

Chapter 3
Training Begins

Chapter 4
The Lighthouse

Chapter 5
Geonish and The Red Dragon

Chapter 6
Perception Is Reality

Chapter 7
Arcane Echelon

Chapter 8
As the Weather Changes

Chapter 9
Passions Run High

Chapter 10
Taken Prisoner

Chapter 11
Tomb of Ma’Kur

Chapter 12
Back to The Present

Chapter 13
Everything Comes at a Price

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16
Going Their Separate Ways

Chapter 17
The Weight of The World

Chapter 18
Gaining Insight

Chapter 19
It’s All About Timing

Chapter 20
Profit and Bloodshed

Chapter 21
Thinking Outside the Box

Chapter 22
The Stratic Cup

Chapter 23
Castle of Shorallen

Chapter 24
New Paths

Sneak Peek

Corsana Myths & Legends Sneak Peek

Chapter 1
The Paths Before Us

Bonus Story

Creature Glossary

Location Glossary

As the clouds parted, and seagulls glided gracefully over the air currents dancing along the continental coast of Corsana, sunlight shone upon a new day as the town of Asic came into focus. The early morning ocean air greeted those working on the shore in waves of cool, crisp kisses upon their bare skin. Voices boomed around the port as longshoremen moved back and forth, working at their regular brisk pace.
Ropes and pulleys moved hand-in-hand as wooden wagons were loaded with boxes full of freight and sent about their merry way, bringing items to their owners. Cargo boxes swung high in the air as booms turned by the strength of men, getting merchant wares onto their designated vessels. The ships creaked with the swaying of the sea, anxious to be free of their moorings, dreaming of unfurled sails filled with air as their hulls sprint over the gleaming waters to the east.
Throughout town, merchants opened shutters or raised awnings towards the sky, allowing light to cast its fortune upon their goods. Bakers stood near their doorways with freshly cooked pastries, beckoning passersby with free samples. The smell of fresh tartlets and doughnuts floated through the air, prompting those who missed out to come inside.
Among the citizens, a young boy ran through the city streets. Tears streamed down his face as his knees and elbows pumped with sorrow. Christopher dashed through townsfolk, splitting mothers from their children and merchants from their patrons as moans of sadness seeped into the air.
“Hey!” came the cry of irritated inhabitants interrupted by his presence.
As the boy ran past, objects in the distance, far beyond his reach, fell from their perch. Vendors and customers gasped and jumped in shock as articles came alive, dancing and hovering in the air before falling back to the ground.
“CK!” came the cry of a young human boy calling out to him as he roared past.
Christopher ignored the call as he raced away, his broken heart crumbling with every step. As he disappeared into a nearby alley, his thoughts flew back to the schoolroom, images of his classmates’ faces floating before his eyes, each of them with their father there, standing at the back of the class.
One by one, the teacher called upon the students. Christopher sat apprehensively in his chair, hoping the teacher would remember and just skip him. Or maybe they wouldn’t have time to get through everyone. But before he knew it, his name was being called. He tried to think of an excuse. He even thought about lying, but there was no use.
Before he could utter a sound, he heard the kids whispering near him.
“He doesn’t have a dad.”
“That’s ‘cause he’s a freak.”
Some of the other kids snickered and giggled, hearing the girls gossip and disparage him. Before the teacher could move on to someone else, tell the girls to hush, or prompt him again, he took off out the door.
There was nothing he could say to make them understand. CK knew that if you were to ask of his classmates what they’d wish for, most of them would choose gold. Maybe a sword and shield. Possibly even a pony or horse. But for Christopher, all he wanted was a dad.
Someone to read to him. To

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