Read The Fall to Power for Free Online Page A

him…”
    With a force that belied her slender form, she threw the ceremonial dagger end over end, the sharp point aimed unerringly for his face.
    He batted the weapon to one side with the flat of his palm, made to walk towards her, but before he could take a single step the world exploded in a cacophony of roaring noise and searing heat.
    He opened his eyes, having screwed them shut in reflex, to see the sorceress standing, mouth open in a cry of rage, her outstretched hands before her emitting a cone of roiling black flame that blistered the stone of the ground, warping the columns behind him till they twisted and bubbled, incinerating the torches and their mountings, leaving nought but charred shadows to indicate their ever existing.
    But the King simply stood, bearing the brunt of the storm, his garments merely steaming, the unnatural energies no threat to him, even licking him, caressing him, as though familiar with his scent and welcoming him.
                  He walked forwards, through the continuing torrent of nightmare flame, with no more effort than walking into a stiff autumn breeze, seeing the confusion growing in her eyes. He stopped less than an arm’s length from the sorceress, her outstretched palms touching his bare chest now, the fire raging out sideways like water splashing from a rock.
                  After long moments, she stopped her attack, the sudden silence deafening, the only noise the low crackling of the pyre behind her and the gentle cracking of superheated stone.
    Lowering her hands she looked at him, surveying his awesome form and feeling with her own innate gifts the tremendous power that channelled through him, the same power that she herself served; her blue eyes, no longer full of hate, merely wonder, her thirst for power and knowledge surpassing her hunger for revenge.
                  “What are you, Stone?” she whispered through longing lips.
                  “Stone?” The giant sniffed, as though in distaste of the word. “Stone was weak, a slave to the elements. But I am beyond them now.” His green eyes glowed, a luminosity that had nothing to do with the fire the burned behind Ceceline and everything to do with the raging furnace of power that lived within him. “I am… invincible.”
                  The girl smiled, warm, welcoming, evil.
                  “That you are. I feel it. My invincible King.” She looped her long, slender arms about his muscled neck and drew in, tantalisingly close, her sweet breath blowing warm and tempting on his lips. “Invictus…” She whispered the name.
                  He smiled.
                  During the long years in the Northern Fires, the whispers had wrought changes on him, forcing him closer toward the potential of his extraordinary physiology, teaching him to channel their seemingly unlimited power, till at last it had grown difficult to discern the whispers from his own thoughts, but through it all they had not deigned to give him a new name.
                  He had simply accepted that was no longer Stone, whoever that had been.
                  He was different. Changed. Invincible.
                  Invictus.
                  He rolled the name about his mouth, playing with it, trying it on for feel.
                  It felt right. It spoke of Kings and Gods. Of a leader of men who would change this world forever.
    He looked down at the slender, sultry creature before him who looked up at him with mysterious yearning and knew that she would be by his side for the duration. He grabbed her with his strong arms, lifting her so her feet left the ground, kissing her soft lips, causing her to moan in pleasure as her hands roamed the hard muscles of his back.
    He knew what was to happen next, that they were to fall to the altar and make love in the flickering warmth of the Temple Pyre,