The slaughter of the royal family has awakened an unspeakable evil.
Hope is stamped out under the rule of the new tyrannical king. But buried deep in history lies an answer to his steel grip that nobody wants to unleash…
Risen from death, a warrior emerges — The Arbiter, a demonic sorcerer not seen in 500 years. And he's pissed.
For it's not a random king who sits upon the throne and plunges an already struggling kingdom into chaos…the mad king is the Arbiter's brother, and the man responsible for ending his life in the first place.
Sound the drums of war and prepare for battle! Prince Shaw returns as The Arbiter with his brother, the king, in his sights, and anyone who stands in his way will be considered an enemy...
"The Risen Prince is a dark well of quick sand that sucks you in the more you wriggle. From the cinematic imagery (like the argomancy chamber, or the final battle between two of the First), to the great characters (especially the horse), you're sure to enjoy the story"– Reader review
"Viergutz takes us into a world where the lines of right vs. wrong becomes so blurred you have no idea what choice is best."– Reader review
"The author has populated this world with fantastic, yet deadly monsters and demons."– Reader review
The massive ship was picking up speed. The gut-churning sound of the captain's spell shook the ground again, sending the crowd into a panic. Magic was well known to the land and there were many types of it. Those who used it were looked at no differently than those who practiced other dangerous trades. The spell the captain was using to call the wind was different. It felt dirty, like a fine grit on a pane of glass. Shaw kept his eyes on the Barge as it moved ever quicker through the water and pointed directly at the shallow dock. The murmur of the crowd turned to screams as onlookers realized the Barge was not slowing.
Shaw removed his tunic, revealing his identifying red hair and emerald eyes, unafraid; he'd be lost within the crowd. His stomach turned over as the captain's spell carried from the ship, across the water and to his ears. The ship-turned-battering-ram was powering through the Valor's current and barreling straight towards the shallow dock and the market square beneath. The ships sails were still and blocked out the mid-day sun. The unholy groan of powerful black magic flooded the air. Another guttural moan shook the cobblestone beneath his feet. He needed to act. Stopping the destruction that the boat was about to cause was impossible, but he still needed to get on board to find out what was releasing such foul magic. His energy was low, so whatever move he made, it needed to be minimal and precise. He thought about potential solutions in his head. He considered leaping onto the ship from below. Or attaching himself to the side and climbing aboard. Or just blasting a hole in the hull.
The third option is best, the magpie said, apparently sensing the commotion.
"Get out of my head."
We are beyond that; we have a special bond, you and I. I remember this one time, your wife appeared in your sleep, a beautiful woman by the way, dressed in a lovely purple slip. Her lady bits peeking through as she walked towards you, sprawled out in a pile of hay and horse dung…
"Demon, enough!" Shaw said aloud, blushing and reeling at the memory. It was true; the demon had access to his dreams and thoughts. It just did not need to make it so obvious it was watching.
The bystanders had almost completely evacuated the shallow dock. A few stragglers attempted to collect their things. Something caught his eye; a hooded figure, walking away from the scene, southbound out of the city.