Prefaces from Failed Fantasy Novels

by Jason Fischer

a) It was a troubled time for Gaul. The Dauphin, orphaned son of a murdered king, grew shackled to a gilded throne. While his powerful neighbours nipped at his heels, the sinister Magisters plotted against the boy, seeking to lure him into their sorcerous order. With one hand, the Regent guided the Dauphin’s rule, but the other was poised to snatch the crown from his head.

Little did anyone know how important tiny Outremer, a colony far across the sea, would play in the dark days to follow. This is an account of those days…

b) Between the time of the Old Masters and the Age of Reason, the Sons of Nesh rose up. Fought they did, and conquer and settle. The fires of war ceased, and what was once their prison became the spoils of war. By tusk and trunk, the Sons of Nesh ruled an Empire for time untold.

In a bloated and decadent Empire, Two Heirs arose, and all that came before was washed from memory, washed with blood and terror…

c) When I walked the earth as a man, I was a teller of tales, never short for words. It comes as some surprise to me that I find difficulty in recording this chronicle. I suppose it has been a long time though, over a lifetime since I was a cheerful young nomad, regaling the children of my Kaari tribe with clever and funny stories.

My name is Tok, and once I was a man. Once, but long ago.

For many decades, I have been more machine than man, little more than a brain and its supporting tissues, encased in a suit of steel. I am a cyborg, what my master calls “a robot with a dash of humanity”.

d) ‘Lord Valiant! I do not fear your Hawk-Sword!’ Sacre-Morte roared from his tower. ‘You were deceived by the Lady of Blades. Nothing can harm me!’

‘Come and face me then, coward,’ Valiant bellowed. ‘If thou art truly the Blade-Master that thine heralds and brigands declare that thou art, thou wilt not fear mine Hawk-Sword. Foul varlet, I spit on your Tower of Terror,’

The blonde-haired saviour of the realm turned his defiant chin to the Tower, and did just that. As the hero’s spittle ran down the foul magical creation, Sacre-Morte screamed in rage.

Unleashing Vulture-Blade, he jumped from the parapet to join in a clashing and epic battle…