Mortal Man : And The Realm Surfer

Akkadia was the land of milk and honey. But where there’s good… When soul-eating demons invaded, the peace keeper did the only thing he could think of. He banged the drum to call for help from ancestral spirits. But, he didn’t know there was another part, where the drum could be used as an instrument of destruction. And thus he summoned centuries bound Fallens, intent on vengeance and an army of their procreation.This is a story of good vs evil. A story of love, hate and family that will have you turning page after page.

From the Back Cover

If you had been there, you would understand why I did it. For you would have seen nothing but desolation and despair - ruins and death. The smell of sulfur filled the air, twirling with smoke, like dark swirling mist. It was as if the land was touched by the gods - the gods of destruction. Akkadia was a land filled with milk and honey, and now the habitat of the Ascarians is left in ruins. The Ascarians were known as the custodians of the gods, a priesthood that was in existence before the common era; before the holy child was sent to be sacrificed by Babaloke (the God in heaven). After the Good News reached every corner of the earth, the priesthood had since become the custodians of history, preserved and guarded. I saw it with my very eyes when it happened, monsters with decaying wings floating in the air and pulling souls from the human body, it was the most terrifying and enthralling thing I had ever seen. Cries of pain and anguish filled the air, houses burst out in flames as they floated around it. Until another appeared. This one was bathed in golden light like the sun and, like a breeze, it swept over the monsters, one by one and in pairs it continued to vanquish them, but they were innumerable!In panic, my mind drifted to a magical drum my forebears had told me about, a drum they said often summoned help from the terrestrial world. Good or evil I could not tell. I rushed into the Keeper, a mud house that had preserved supernatural relics for centuries. The cone torches still hung on the wall - it felt like another realm in there. The drum was hung on a robe at a corner of the wall. I had observed it there for years and knew exactly how to take it down in the cold, dimly lit room. I climbed a stool and quickly untied the thick leather strap from the robe used to hold it. Upon stepping out of the Keeper, with the strap draped over my shoulder and my hands holding it to my side, I discovered a note attached to it, breathing hard I retrieved it and quickly unfolded the now aged paper: "Be careful of the words you utter as you beat the drum, lest ye summon the devil instead of the angels!" I had heard the folktales for years, my father had woven stories around the drum to entertain us under the moonlight and my mother had sung the rhythmic poem of the summoning of the good spirits that lived in the lands, sea and heavens to continue to protect and preserve our lands. I knew the words by heart, even as I stood frozen in the doorway it played in my head - in my mother's voice. My heart raced in my chest as I grew the courage to step out. The sky was pitch black; it was as if even the stars were afraid to shine. I raised my hand to start to beat the drum, then I looked up and saw that the winged monsters were no more, only the golden light flickering in the air and then it was gone. I ran around the grounds, the fire had been put out, and it seemed only a few didn't survive. I saw an aged woman scream and rush to a lifeless, charred body of a child under a burnt tree. I recalled a lot of children playing under that tree, an incredible urge to beat the drum and sing the conjuring song overcame me and so I did. I beat and beat the drum but with no words, only with the anguish in my heart. And nothing happened. The sound of the talking drum filled the still night and mingled with the cries. Maybe I shouldn't have ... I had no idea of what was happening or what those strange beings were, because something did happen but not in the physical realm. I soon discovered I shouldn't have interfered; I shouldn't have beat the drum...

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