NexLord: Dark Prophecies Read Online Free

Warlord and NexLord are lofty titles, yet
during one vision I saw common folk becoming the friends and
bonds.  Before any titles are bestowed, while yet heir to
his post, I saw the Warlord's son meet his closest
friend.  That meeting began with competition and ended in
cooperation, and blood sealed their pact.”
    - From the Prophecies of Gold.
     
    Mara's wagon hit a particularly nasty rut in
the road and jerked heavily, but the old woman made no complaint,
her keen gaze was locked on the silent young boy beside
her.  In the day since the Togroth killing party had
slaughtered Aerin’s parents he had hardly spoken a
word.  He still clutched the leather bound book in his
lap.
    "What is that book about, Aerin?” she asked,
hoping to get him talking, she did not think this silence good for
him.
    "It's the true story of the last NexLord,
Ragol," he answered, still speaking without much animation.
    Mara frowned slightly, but almost immediately
wiped it from her face.  "I wouldn't believe all you
read, history is written by the victors, and told as they see
fit."
    Aerin's eyes were glued to the leather cover
of the book.  "My father said this is the most accurate
account of the last NexLord."
    Mara shrugged.  "That could be
true; it just means it lies a little less than the rest. That all
happened over three hundred years ago… time enough for
exaggeration, lies and falsehoods to be written, but tell me, why
the interest in Ragol and olden times?"
    "My father was a scholar, we were on our way
to Strakhelm so he could write the story of the new NexLord," Aerin
explained.
    Mara smiled slightly at this.  "And
who might that be?"
    Aerin felt she was challenging his father's
word, so he looked at her defiantly, "Gandarel Trelic, heir to the
Seat of Stone, future Warlord of the Dragonback."
    Mara laughed lightly at his stern look and
words.  "Relax, boy, I was not disparaging your father's
beliefs. I happen to know he was right, the young heir is destined
to become a NexLord."
    Aerin suddenly remembered the muscle-bound warrior who had led the attack on
his parents, the one with the golden chain marks of a NexLord on
his wrists.  "You're right, Mara, history has it all
wrong, NexLords are cowards and murderers," he almost whispered,
anger and hatred warring on his face.
    Mara lifted her gray left eyebrow and
inspected Aerin briefly. The emotions running deep within him were
easy for her to read.  "Why the sudden change of
opinion?"
    "That man, the one who led the Togroths, he
was a NexLord," Aerin explained, tears filling his eyes.
    Mara was intrigued; the man Aerin was talking
about had been gone before her wagon had come around the bend of
the forest path.  "Why do you say that?"
    Aerin lifted his left hand, pointing to his
other wrist with a forefinger.  "He had the chain marks
of a NexLord."
    "Ah, now I see," said Mara, while smiling
slightly.  "If we stop the wagon, and have Tocor come
over with some paints and mark my wrists with some golden chains, I
guess that will make me a NexLord."
    Aerin frowned, considering this for a
moment.  "No, that would just be a fake! Besides, you're
a woman and the NexLords were mighty warriors."
    "So chain marks are not what makes you a
NexLord?  Then how do you know this man was
one?  Didn't your father say he was going to write the
account of the new NexLord, the first since Ragol?"
    Aerin nodded.
    "Then," she said, reaching over and touching
his nose lightly with her forefinger to emphasize her point, "what
makes you think that evil man was a real NexLord?  Did he
act like one?"
    "No," Aerin agreed.  "So he was an
imposter?"
    "Most definitely, and he is not the only one
traveling the lands these days.  It's become quite
fashionable, and more to the point, profitable for men to fake that
title.  They get false respect and deference from the
masses.   In addition, they fetch higher money for work as bodyguards and other militant endeavors,"