Excerpt from "The Goddess Prophecies" by D.R. Whitney

What is possible or impossible is only a matter of prospective.
--Pope Honorius II

Tommaso awoke on a grassy bank near a river. An enveloping mist coiled between the trees. He was disoriented, and had a pounding headache. The ground beneath him shook violently. Coming toward him, he spotted great hairy beasts charging at top speed. Panicked, he reached for his automatic weapon, but it was not on him.

He rolled to hide under a tree and watched the new world around him. Just beyond him the hairy giants were battling a race of tall black beings with elven shaped ears. Nearly invisible female guards were firing arrows and thunder rumbled with great intensity. The speed at which the onslaught of warriors broke through the giants was startling.

Then came a crash of arms as a series of lightning bolts struck the warriors. Herds of Red Dragons swooped down from the skies, tearing the wounded giants to sheds as arrows and blades hit their mark with deadly accuracy. Terrible screams filled the air and magical fires erupted. The tall black leader stood stoic and fierce beneath his banner, directing his army. Soldiers in armor galloped atop mighty steeds wearing the crimson mark of his Militia Sancti Templi on their shields. Not far away, naked soldiers covered with white ash and blue woad designs charged the tall black warriors, cutting many of them down with their powerful axes.

Tommaso found a blade on the grass and gripped it hard. He couldn’t believe his eyes as small misshapen figures carrying torches and knives marched past him. Where in the hell was he?

The tall race of black creatures with pointed ears was massacring the giants at the edge of the woodland. Beyond was a hill that resembled the Tor, towering into the layers of mist. A loud ringing sound ripped through the skies and the huge warriors followed their leader, retreating in the other direction, even though they were clearly winning the battle. The Dragons overhead also circled around, following them. The giants and female guards that survived escaped into the forest.

Tommaso, all alone once more, dug his fingers into the rich, black dirt and slowly lifted himself up. He eyed the fresh carnage, smelled the blood, felt the dampness of the air. Warm blood was seeping from his own flesh wounds and he tried to get his bearings. He was nowhere he’d ever seen before. Was he dreaming or dead?

Was this where the Yorke had woman wound up?

He had no answers, but he had seen the mark his family had worn for generations on those powerful soldiers. He could not dishonor them, even here in this strange land. If Vivienne Yorke was alive, he would find her, and do the job he’d sworn to do.