Okay everyone, here's the first chapter! Have fun!
The Sons of the Clayr
Chapter One: The Sons of the Clayr
It was in the Australian Cricket Team's dressing room. They were having a team meeting, just a few days ahead of the First Test against Pakistan. The air was relaxed and happy –they'd just thumped Sri Lanka in a home series.
They were talking happily away when both Adam Gilchrist, the wicketkeeper-batsman-vice-captain, and Ricky Ponting, the captain, both froze, their eyes taking on the slightly glazed look that they got when their Captain's Gift came into play. Moments later, a tall woman walked into the room.
She had brown eyes, long black hair and a blue surcoat, on which golden stars were quartered with silver keys. She wore a bandolier of bells, and a sword. They knew who this was. This was Princess Lirael, a Daughter of the Clayr, and the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, though she was as good as the Abhorsen. What struck them as odd, though, was her appearance. What was she doing here?
She spoke. 'O mighty Australians, I bring bad tidings. A Free Magic necromancer, Chlorr, has returned, and she has vested several key figures around the world with Greater Dead spirits. The reason I tell you this is that she has chosen Five from every Test cricket-playing nation, and they, while told to take over the world, will try to kill you all and cricket in Australia. This way, Chlorr seems to think, she will gain a ready foothold in all countries.' 'How can we stop them?' Ricky asked in disbelief. 'We are not Charter Mages. We cannot stop magic!' 'Ah,' smiled Lirael, 'you are not now. But six of you will be.'
A Charter Mark formed at her fingers; the mark of leadership. 'O Mark of the Charter, pure, sound, find the leader of the Sons!' The mark left her fingers and flew about the room. Adam laughed and said, 'The mark shall choose the captain,' but his laughter was short-lived when the mark fixed itself to his forehead. 'Wha-?' 'Adam Gilchrist, Son of the Clayr, come forward.' He walked numbly to her. Lirael touched the mark on his forehead, and at once he glowed. He now wore a coat of shining mail under a green-and-gold striped tunic. He wore a pure white cloak and boots, and set on his head was a crown of moonstones, and Lirael looked astonished. 'You have the Sight!' 'Yes,' Adam replied uncomfortably, 'all Australian captains have the Gifts of Sight, Telepathy and slight Healing.' She smiled again, and picked up his bat –the familiar bat that many feared. A Charter Mark blazed on it now. 'Touch it, and your bat becomes your sword. Your pads, too; they will become a shield or a flying board when you give the appropriate Marks. Your gloves have the ability to slice and bind. You also have a set of panpipes.' 'Thankyou, O Lirael.' He sat down, very, very uncomfortable with his new titles.
Another Mark formed, this time one of fighting. It, too, flew about the room, before settling itself on the forehead of a very surprised, short opener. 'Justin Langer, Son of the Clayr, come forward.' He stumbled forward. Lirael touched his Mark, and JL too, was robed in a coat of mail. He bore a blue tunic of golden stars. His cloak and boots were both blue, reflecting that he had not the Sight. None of the Sons, save Adam, had the Sight. His bat carried two Charter Marks. 'Your bat becomes your sword and your fighting staff. Your pads, as with all the Sons, becomes either a shield or flying board with the appropriate Mark. You have an extra skill; your thigh-pad, you may have noticed, has transformed into a set of throwing knives. Use them well.'
The next Mark, also a mark of fighting, affixed itself to the big man's forehead. 'Matthew Hayden, Son of the Clayr, come forward. Your bat is your sword, and also your nine-pronged whip. Use it wisely. Your strength will help your spells.'
The next Mark, one of skill and accuracy, fluttered onto the forehead of a sweet spinner. 'Brad Hogg, Son of the Clayr, come forward. You too have the sword and shield, and the Surcoat of Stars like other Clayr. But you have another weapon; the ball. You can make that ball do anything you need it to.' Another Mark flew out. 'Shane Watson, Son of the Clayr, you too have those skills.'
Then a last Mark formed. It attached itself to Damien Martyn. He had a different tunic; green, with golden stars forming a Southern Cross. 'Damien Martyn, Son of the Clayr, you are not a warrior. You are a healer. The others must protect you at all costs. You have a sword, shield and panpipes to protect yourself…All of you do. All of you, practice your spells as often as you can.' And Lirael left, leaving several large books of Charter-spells behind her.
How did you like it? Please review!
Next Chapter: Our Six Sons come up against their first challenge! But will it end before it begins?