Senak Peek at Wizard Prince - March 5, 2025

 Introduction:

This blog features random scenes from works in progress within the Draoithe Saga by Ophelia Kee. These works are primarily urban fantasy and paranormal romance with magical realism, dark themes, and fated mates sprinkled throughout. Here you will find scenes which are yet to be published as of the time of posting, and these chapters may require further editing. It's a look behind the curtain, a sneak peek if you will, at scenes from stories Ophelia Kee is currently drafting. 

If you want polished complete stories, this is not the right place. But if you enjoy bits and bobs of things yet to come, won't fall in love with a rough version, and want a taste of the dream before the magic coalesces, then you have found the spot. 

March 5, 2025 Sneak Peek at

Warning: Wizard Prince

This is a work in progress and is subject to change at any time.

Read at Your Own Risk!

Copyright 2025

All Rights Reserved.

A Prologue - Liquefied Meat

Calvin Birchard - 1103 Somewhere in Ireland

He stared up at the man. Way up. The guy had to be fifteen feet tall. No, wait, more like nearly seven feet tall. Still, he was a giant. He was practically the height of a small fruit tree. 

Sitting on his ass in the dirt looking up at the guy made Calvin dizzy. He was six feet. Looking at the slender man before him from the ground gave him a serious case of height inferiority.

“Six foot seven.” 

The guy grinned as if he gave the information away a lot. 

Purple eyes twinkled in a bronze face framed with black and white hair. The man seemed rather pleased with himself. It was strange considering the situation. Calvin wasn’t about to complain.

He reached out a long-armed hand with long, slender fingers to help Calvin back to his feet. It was the same hand which had moments earlier put a wicked black sword through the body of a bandit. 

The man moved with precise, detailed motions more reminiscent of a tarantula than a man. He even had the black and white markings of a fuzzy spider for hair as well. No way was the guy human.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I’m Calvin. Calvin Birchard. Thanks for the help. I’m alright one-on-one. Those five fools would have certainly taken my money and my horse.” 

Calvin acknowledged his appreciation for the man’s help in defending himself against the bandit attack as he grasped the proffered hand and regained his feet. The guy still felt incredibly tall, even when Calvin stood up.

The men in his retinue stripped the bodies of valuables, took over their horses, and left the bodies for the wild animals to feast on. Proficient, they worked together as they had in dispatching his attackers. It stole his attention only briefly before he looked back at the tall man who spoke with a deep baritone voice which only magnified his extreme height.

“Lowlife scoundrels. They band together because they fear honest work, and decent men like us must fend them off.” 

The man who ordered the confiscation of goods shook his head, still angry about the men he had killed. He must be some sort of nobility.

“I’m Araack Kniid. It was a pleasure. I needed a reason to put my sword arm to use. It’s been a while. Are you hurt?” 

The tall man offered his identity as he studied Calvin. His retinue stood waiting for him to decide the next move. 

Calvin took stock of his person, dusting off his clothes. He suffered only from his bruised ego. 

The magic should’ve worked. He’d done something wrong. Araack happened along just in time because Calvin’s magic had failed him again. He had to learn more and get more proficient.

“I think I’m well. A bit shook up is all. No actual harm done.” 

“Might I offer some advice?”

Araack inclined his head. 

Calvin always sought answers. There was no point in not listening. The man had seriously aided him rather spectacularly.

“The magic you tried to use. It’s weaver’s magic. You must add it to something non-living, such as stone or metal, for it to work on this level of the dream. You, however, are not a warlock. What, may I ask, are you?” 

The man saved Calvin’s ass. Calvin thought he should at least tell the truth. He owed the man that.

“I call myself a wizard. I’m not sure it’s quite the proper term, but as I know of no one else like me, it suffices. A warlock. Huh? That would explain a lot. Spider shifter from the Netherworld?” 

Calvin lifted one eyebrow. 

Araack nodded. Some of what Calvin learned had finally proven useful and accurate. Too bad the magic hadn’t worked. 

“My friends are Cheval Mallet, fire magi, Tasmanian tiger knights, and warlocks. We have some business with a light dragon, Risk Luisne, and his king. We travel to Eyrie Iolair. Would you care to join our company on your journey?” 

Araack offered to allow him to join them to grant him the safety of numbers.

Calvin agreed, and they all waited patiently while he gathered both his horse and his wits. He didn’t know where he should go, only that he needed to know more. Eyrie Iolair was as good a destination as any other. 

It was safer to travel with Araack and his group. Araack’s retinue handled their swords as knights.

Calvin needed more information on how to make his magic work. Araack seemed to have some of that. Perhaps the tall man would give out some more advice. 

Maybe his companions would share as well. Araack didn’t travel with humans. Calvin didn’t want to waste an opportunity to learn.

He would learn anything they might teach him if he could see the ribbons of light. He might get smarter simply by traveling with the group and keeping his eyes open. 

Calvin idly wondered as he mounted his horse if they knew how to unravel the ribbons of light which made up the different magic groups he could ‘see’. 

The entire group grinned and nodded at him, and he quickly became immersed in conversations with them.

The trip to the Eyrie took about a week. In that time, Calvin learned more about magic than he ever dreamed existed. The fire mages got him burned twice, but even he thought it was funny. 

Alyssa, their queen, took it upon herself to teach him. Only later did he learn it pissed off Dwight, because Calvin monopolized her time. It only took him three days to decide he needed to ally himself permanently with Araack. 

Araack Kniid was Rí an Chaisleáin Corcra. The King of the Purple Castle owed allegiance to the House of Leiriu. Lucifer Leiriu was the king of devils in the Dorcha. 

Caisleain Corcra was an underkingdom in an area of the Dorcha known as An Corcra Is Faide. The Longest Purple was the northern boundary territory between Lucifer’s lands and Talamh Marcra, the grasslands controlled by the Demon Lord of Horses, Orobas Orobai. 

Calvin thought Orobas was a bit of a thief. He populated his lands with Cheval Mallet from Dorcha, refugees from the Incubus/Satyr war, and defector conjurers from Talamh na Marbh, the lands of the dead controlled by the King of Death, Kharon Thanatos. 

Araack swore Orobas was a good man and only grief-stricken over the loss of his lifemate, Tamar, and crazy for horses. Kharon wasn’t the bad guy people believed, either. But he was the Grim Reaper.

The new Christian humans in Ireland would’ve frowned at the idea of serving a devil as an overlord or a spider warlock whose kingdom had economic alliances with a demon lord. Calvin needed knowledge and help far more than he cared about what humans thought. 

Besides, Lucifer got lost in the void, and the Amazons walled the Dorcha away from the rest of the dream. The devils weren’t a threat, nor were they evil. That was a time-muddled misinformation.

Plus, in the same three days he swore fealty to Araack Kniid, Calvin learned more about magic and the dream than he had learned his entire life. How could he not want to hang out with a man like Araack? 

Araack might be a giant spider sometimes, but the man had honor, discipline, and an infinite understanding of the magic Calvin desperately needed to understand. 

None of Araack’s kingdom was even part of the Leaindeail, the middle level of the dream in which he’d been born and humans lived. But being from the Netherworld didn’t make him evil.

 

What did it matter if Calvin lived in the Netherworld? What difference did it make if Araack wasn’t human? When Calvin realized he wasn’t human, either, his hesitancy evaporated completely. 

His new home was in the Longest Purple. He never once looked back. He simply bought a warmer cloak and followed his liege. 

Over time, he and Araack became far more like brothers than two strange immortals who ran into one another on a lonely stretch of a deserted road. The two of them thought alike, but Araack was uptight because he had a country to run. 

Both were lonely. The magic drove it. It wasn’t easy for immortals to find love and there were strict rules about sexual relationships in the Netherworld. 

Their friendship remained deep, so long as Araack didn’t offer to share his dinner. Liquified meat left something to be desired.

Thank you for visiting the scrying pool of Draoithe Saga Scrying Pool. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the future of the dream. - OK

Thank you for your support! Welcome to the dream… Sincerely, -OK

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