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Here's the description of The Hidden Crystal:
Sarac, a young student magician is beaten and cast aside when Alena, a priestess he loves is captured and carried off to sea by marauders who torch his village in search of the Crystal of Fire.
Sarac resolves to rescue Alena, though doesn’t realize that his urgent quest is part of a greater purpose; the Crystal of Fire is one of four Crystals of Power ancient Wizards created to prevent the terrible planetary upheaval their world suffers every one thousand years. Sarac must find the Crystals of Power and unite them before the Fall Equinox when the red planet Nibiru comes into alignment with their planet or all will be lost.
Naga, an evil sorcerer, who led his soldiers in search of the Crystal of Fire, seeks the Crystals of Power as well for a different purpose, to enslave all mankind and gain dominion over their world regardless of the devastation it will cause.
With the help of Joran, a wizard of immense power, Sarac faces increasing threats from the approaching cataclysm which is starting to rain destruction on their planet, and from Naga who is determined to retrieve the Crystals of Power at all costs. The urgency of their quest increases when Sarac learns that Naga is torturing Alena to get her to reveal the location of the remaining Crystals of Power. As the Fall Equinox approaches, Sarac struggles to unravel an ancient prophecy, defeat Naga, rescue Alena, and ultimately save their world from violent destruction.
Chapter 1: Land of the Golden Sun
Sweat ran down Sarac’s cheek as he raced down a narrow forest path, panicking as branches lashed his face. His boots crunched through virgin snow, now stained with drops of blood. He clutched his wounded chest and stopped suddenly, unsure of his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.
Pale blue eyes stared out at the surroundings from a narrow face of sixteen seasons, framed by thin cheekbones. He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair and shivered, pulling his coarse white robe tighter around him. This was supposed to be a training exercise and he was wholly unprepared for the climate. He pressed himself against the trunk of a tree as the sound of his pursuers passed close by, trying to remain as still as possible while his ragged breathing sent puffs of fog into the cold air.
Four shadows appeared around a bend in the trail. A thin boy with straw-colored hair and a sour expression on his face, wearing a white robe with a polished buckle of a golden sun stepped forward, followed closely by three other boys. “Which way did Sarac go?” came Braden’s surly voice. “I should have killed him when I had the chance. If he makes it back to the Temple of Inscriptions to tell the Elders what happened…”
Sarac picked up a small rock and threw it hard against a tree on the other side of the trail. It made a loud cracking sound as it struck the trunk.
“This way!” Braden shouted, leading the boys away from Sarac’s hiding place.
Sarac breathed a sigh of relief, and stumbled forward. Female voices drifted on the wind as Sarac’s feet snapped fallen branches. In a grassy clearing ahead, four girls were practicing their dancing. A chestnut-haired girl in a white dress caught his eye; her long, brown tresses flowed as her feet skimmed the ground. Sarac’s eyes widened as he watched, entranced as the girl spun and twirled, seeming to float across the meadow. She looked like an angel as the radiance of the sun cast a golden nimbus behind her, lighting up the edges of her dress. The way her body moves! Sarac felt faint. He looked down at the jagged tear in his soaked shirt, and the underlying wound in his chest and was startled to see how much blood he had lost. His vision wavered and he stumbled forward into the clearing. The girl’s heads spun toward him; three of the girls shrieked and fled the clearing. Sarac clutched the front of the remaining girl’s shawl as he fell forward, his bloodied fingers leaving red marks on her dress.
“What are you doing over here on this side of the river?” the girl asked, one hand on her hip. Her dark eyebrows lowered in concern and she gasped as she saw Sarac’s bloodied chest. She quickly bent down over him, her hanging hair framing her face as she shook him gently.
Sarac moaned and stirred, slowly opening his eyes as he looked at her. “There was a—”
The girl placed a finger against Sarac’s lips and smoothed back his hair. “I’m a healer. Rest now and let me see what I can do for your injuries,” she said, closing her eyes in intense concentration. White light flowed from her fingertips, snaking across Sarac’s body. Sarac gasped and arched his back; he squeezed his eyes tight, pain rippling through his body as his flesh mended and muscles knit. When the power faded, the only sign that Sarac had been injured was a lightening of the skin on his chest. The healer swayed unsteadily on her feet, her face pale.
Sarac opened his eyes and moved his lips, trying to form words as he rose unsteadily to his feet. “I’m Sarac. Thanks for healing me.”
The girl extended her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Alena. I’m studying to be a Keeper of the Flame.”
Sarac nodded his head. “I know, I saw you practicing―”
Color rose to Alena’s cheeks as she brushed a dark strand of hair out of her eyes. “How embarrassing!” she said. She put a hand to her head and stumbled forward.
“Are you okay?” Sarac asked.
“I just need to rest for a minute. Healing is hard work.”
“Here, let me help you,” Sarac said, offering her his shoulder to lean on.
“Thank you. I must be getting back to the temple as the Sisters will start to wonder what happened to me.”
When the golden dome of the Temple of Fire came into view above the treetops, Alena stopped on the wooded trail. “Well, this is where we part. I can’t risk them seeing us together this close to the temple.”
“I’m studying to be a Sister of the Flame and must remain pure and chaste. For the other Sisters to see us together and think—”
“Say no more,” Sarac said as he raised her warm hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
“Alena! Where are you, child?” A stern female voice carried through the forest along with the sound of snapping twigs.
Alena’s eyes widened. “Oh, no! A Sister of the Flame! She cannot see me here with you, Sarac!”
The Sister burst through the underbrush, to find Sarac still holding Alena’s hand. “Out here with a boy, and an apprentice of the Temple of Inscriptions, no less!”
Sarac turned and ran in the other direction as the Sister grabbed Alena by the ear.
“Thought you would have some fun out here, did you?” the teacher sneered as she pulled Alena back down the trail toward the Temple of Fire.
“No, I healed him! You must believe me!” Alena cried in protest.
Sarac watched in dismay from the protection of a thicket of bushes, wondering if he would ever see Alena again.
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