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Unspeakable Secrets: The Alchemist Series Book 1: The Alchemist Series, #1
Unspeakable Secrets: The Alchemist Series Book 1: The Alchemist Series, #1
Unspeakable Secrets: The Alchemist Series Book 1: The Alchemist Series, #1
Ebook381 pages5 hoursThe Alchemist Series

Unspeakable Secrets: The Alchemist Series Book 1: The Alchemist Series, #1

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The only thing he can't do is have a peaceful life.

Connor Varas is the nephew of a spymaster. He just learned that he will one day be able to bestow the strength of giants on anyone he pleases. One day he can create as much gold as he wants. One day he can build an army of metal soldiers that no kingdom could stand against.

But 'one day' isn't good enough. Not when a mysterious enemy calling itself 'The Syndicate' threatens the city he is dutybound to protect.
The enemy pulls all the strings. They hold all the cards. They are as uncatchable as smoke and as unstoppable as an avalanche.

Connor's only real allies are a mysterious female assassin with violet eyes whose face he's never seen, and a spy buried deep in enemy territory whose cover might be blown.

Worse, if anyone discovers Connor's nascent powers, they'll do anything to make him join their cause. Or prevent him from allying with their enemies.

With great power comes even greater enemies…

Is this book for me?


If you like worlds bursting with magic, desperate sword fights, deadly enemies, and heroes that get increasingly powerful, then you're going to love Unspeakable Secrets.

So, join Connor Varas as he struggles to master his newfound power, uncover the sinister plots that threaten his city, and stay one step ahead of death.

His quest will take him through the darkest parts of Vigil's underworld. Through oceans of blood. And, into the festering heart of a plot that threatens to swallow him whole. All while dodging ice orbs, lightning bolts, and the less than restful dead.

So what are you waiting for? Get the book and begin your adventure in the world of Unspeakable Secrets.

How long is the book?

Just the story itself is over 84'000 words. No filler. No padding. All for your reading pleasure. Page count is 342 pages.

 

Excerpt 1:


The red glow intensified. He wanted to run, but his body wouldn't respond. He couldn't even twitch. Paralyzing magic? Just what kind of trap had he sprung?

He couldn't even blink. He could only watch… and accept his fate.


Excerpt 2:


The thugs he'd killed only moments ago shambled toward him. They moved awkwardly, like puppets jerked by invisible strings and lacked any of the grace or skill they had in life.

He thrust his rapier at the closest of the two and skewered it through the heart. It didn't even flinch.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDaren Gillingham
Release dateMar 20, 2024
ISBN9798224872046
Unspeakable Secrets: The Alchemist Series Book 1: The Alchemist Series, #1
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    Book preview

    Unspeakable Secrets - Daren Gillingham

    1

    Fire

    Mommy? Daddy? Connor yelled frantically between coughs as smoke seared his lungs.

    He squinted and blinked away tears. Ash stung his eyes, and everything was a blurry mess of black and orange.

    His heart pounded in his chest as the fire raged around him, and the roof above groaned ominously.

    He instinctively raised his arms to protect himself from the debris that drifted down, but it did nothing against the oppressive heat around him.

    Only one thought pushed him forward. He had to find his parents.

    A deafening boom shook the house.

    Bookcases crashed to the ground, sending their contents sprawling all over the floor and feeding the hungry flames.

    Smoke choked his lungs, and he fell to his knees.

    He shook with fear, but when he thought about his parents, he found the strength to stand again even as the floorboards creaked and groaned beneath his feet.

    He gritted his teeth and took unsteady steps forward once more.

    A wooden beam plummeted from the ceiling and smashed into the floor not far from him, releasing a cloud of ash and cinders.

    He jumped back, and a shiver ran down his spine as he looked at the massive, burning beam that could have crushed him.

    But, he couldn't give up.

    Mommy? Daddy? he screamed again as he stumbled down the one path that wasn't blocked by rubble or fire.

    Where are you? he cried though it came out hoarse and he broke out into a coughing fit.

    His parents never let him out of their sight for longer than a second.

    He feared never seeing them again. He was only four, but he knew enough to know that things could go away forever... they could... no! He wouldn't let himself think that.

    They were here somewhere.

    They were probably trying to find him, but how could they hear him over the explosions that ripped apart the air and shook the earth. How could they see him in the fire and smoke?

    Mo-? He choked on smoke and coughed as his dry, burning throat couldn't finish the word. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was filled with ash.

    He heard screams outside before an inhuman roar drowned them out again.

    He made it to the other side of the passageway, and someone grabbed him and scooped him up.

    He couldn't see their face, but he didn't need to.

    Daddy! he choked out the word though his throat still burned from the smog around them.

    I've got you, my boy... I've got you... his father said.

    What's happening daddy? Where's mommy? Connor asked.

    Shhh, son. It's all okay now. Mommy is fine, she's just busy right now, his father said as he carried Connor through their burning home.

    Now that he'd found his dad, everything would be okay. Even so, he held onto his father tightly, afraid that he might somehow disappear.

    His father rushed through the house, and into a room that Connor was never allowed into. His father set him down on a workbench and grabbed a piece of parchment while looking around frantically.

    Connor picked up a quill next to him without thinking and handed it to his father.

    His father took the quill and scribbled something on the parchment, but Connor couldn't see what.

    His father folded it, took a pouch from his belt, and handed both to Connor.

    He held Connor's little hands in his massive paws and looked him in the eyes.

    Hold tight onto this. When you see your Uncle Victor you give this to him okay? his father said.

    When he saw his uncle? Victor? Who was that? That made no sense.

    But, this was clearly important to his dad. He nodded and clutched the parchment and the pouch as tightly as he could.

    That's my boy, his father said as he tussled Connor's hair.

    Connor smiled as he looked at his dad with love in his eyes. Everything would be okay as long as his dad was around.

    A chunk of the wall ripped away in a cloud of dust and a shower of rubble, and the house shuddered as though about to collapse.

    The debris settled, revealing Connor's mother where the wall used to be. Her long, dark-blue hair flowed around her, caught in some unseen wind.

    Behind her, twenty-foot tall metal statues carrying massive swords as large as they were slashed at robed men.

    Flashes of color burst from the robed men, lightning, fire, and blue energy lashed out at the colossal statues, and loud booms sounded after each attack.

    So that was where all the noise and the fire had come from? What was happening?

    Connor returned his attention to his mother, ready to ask those very questions. But, something dark and red covered her skin and clothes, and the words died on his lips.

    ...Mommy? he said.

    Is he ready? she asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

    Connor's father nodded solemnly. His mother turned to Connor and embraced him tightly, almost crushing him.

    He hugged her back with as much strength as he had, still clutching the paper and pouch as tight as he could.

    Be good my baby boy, his mother said as tears streamed down her face, we love you always.

    She raised her hands, and everything went white.

    2

    The Wizard

    Connor awoke with a start. He tried to get up, but his feet tangled in his bed sheets and he tumbled onto the floor.

    He kicked off the snarled mess as he looked around frantically, but there were no flames and no smoke. Just his room in his uncle's manor on the palace grounds, softly lit by moonlight that streamed in through the window.

    Far from the last night he ever saw his parents.

    He slumped back against the wooden floorboards and wiped the sweat from his brow as he took in a deep, shuddering breath of cool night air.

    He sighed.

    It wasn't the first time he'd dreamed of that night, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last either.

    How could someone get over losing their parents?

    Part of him felt stupid for still having nightmares about something that happened fifteen years ago, but another part was glad that he hadn't forgotten them.

    He still missed them.

    Every day.

    He clambered to his feet with a groan and rubbed his elbow where he'd caught himself on the floor. At least, he hadn't landed on his face.

    He peered out the window, across the palace grounds with the beautifully maintained gardens and the guards moving about with their shining plate armor gleaming in the soft light of the moon.

    Damn it. It's too early, he said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

    His heart still pounded in his chest like a drum.

    He took a long, mournful look at his bed and turned away. He wouldn't get back to sleep now.

    Every time he had that dream, he wondered what had happened to his parents.

    Were they still out there somewhere, looking for him? Would he ever find them, or at least learn what happened that night?

    After that white light, he had found himself somewhere far... far away. His mother had transported him to his uncle Victor, and he had never seen his parents again.

    He had asked his uncle about what had happened over and over again, but each time Victor had said he didn't know.

    That didn't stop Connor from asking.

    He wasn't stupid. The chance they were still alive was slim, but even so, he wanted to know what had happened to them.

    To find who, or what took them from him, and make them pay.

    Victor might have given up on them, but I never will, he muttered darkly.

    Today was the day he could finally do something that would put him on the path of vengeance he so craved. It was time to become more than a thief, and a spy.

    He lit a candle and stared at his reflection in the mirror as he shaved his beard. His dark eyes grew darker still as thoughts of revenge swirled in his mind.

    He cleaned himself up and put on some of his more formal clothes before he left his room.

    He felt naked without his leather armor or his rapier, but the old man wasn't fond of weapons, and Connor wanted to make the best impression he could.

    This might be his only chance.

    The night was silent as he left his uncle's manor on the palace grounds, and strode toward the palace itself.

    Along the way, he passed a few of the nighttime guards on patrol, and many of them saluted him as he passed.

    He gave each a polite nod in return and kept on his way.

    These guards had no idea who he or his uncle were, or what service they performed for the palace.

    Though there were rumors of course, and he knew them.

    As well he should, he'd started most of them.

    It helped to keep people guessing.

    Going to see Elgar, the head wizard in the city, to become his apprentice should start some new and interesting ones.


    His footsteps echoed in the empty palace hallways, the only other sound the sputtering of torch flames along the walls.

    He came to a set of twelve-foot high wooden doors with glowing blue runes inscribed in the archway above.

    He swallowed hard, and his heart pounded in his chest.

    He planned to ambush the head wizard as soon as he woke up, and convince him to give Connor a trial, so he could prove his magical talent and become the wizard's apprentice.

    He yearned to search out what happened to his parents, and when his magical talent revealed itself, he felt that perhaps it could be the key to achieving his dream.

    His magic was weak, and he had limited control, but with a little training that would change.

    Time crept by as he waited in the empty hallway.

    He itched to knock on the door as he paced up and down the width of the corridor, but he needed the wizard to be in a good mood.

    Waking him at an ungodly hour of the morning wouldn't help with that.

    Oh by the gods! Come in already! yelled a voice from inside.

    Connor raced to the doors and pushed them wide open. The heavy wood groaned as though it too were upset at being awakened so early, and Connor stepped inside.

    A wrinkled, old man with bushy eyebrows and a finely combed beard sat behind a large oak desk piled high with ancient tomes cleaning his glasses.

    About damn time, he said, I heard you running up and down outside. How am I supposed to focus with you thumping about like a bloody great troll?

    Sorry to disturb you, Head Wizard, Connor said with a bright smile.

    Elgar put his glasses back on and glowered at Connor. That's funny, you don't look sorry, he said, why are you bothering me?

    I want to become a wizard, Connor said.

    Elgar stroked his long, gray beard. Well... good luck with that, he said with a smirk.

    He looked down and started leafing through a large book.

    Connor waited... and waited, but Elgar didn't even bother to look at him again.

    Connor tightened his jaw and folded his arms. Damn that old man. If Elgar thought he would give up so easily, he had another thing coming.

    An hour passed as Connor waited like this, and the wizard showed no sign of noticing him.

    Connor ground his teeth and finally cleared his throat loudly.

    Elgar looked up at him and sighed. Are you still here? he asked.

    Yes, Connor said through clenched teeth.

    Well? What do you want already? Elgar asked.

    Connor let out a slow breath to keep his temper in check. I want to become a wizard. I would like you to teach me, he said.

    Teach you? Elgar said, you were serious?

    Connor felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as hope surged in his heart.

    Then the old wizard burst out laughing.

    Connor balled his hands into tight fists at his sides while the wizard's laughter echoed in the large office.

    Elgar laughed so hard that tears formed at the corners of his eyes. A thug wants to learn magic? Oh ho! This is the funniest thing I've heard in an age! he said.

    Connor glared at the wizard.

    I can already do magic, he growled.

    Elgar's laughter slowly died down into a fit of giggles before he finally got his breathing back under control.

    What did you say? he asked as he wiped at his eyes.

    Connor took a deep breath to steady himself though he squeezed his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white. I said, I can do magic, he said evenly.

    Elgar raised a bushy eyebrow. Truly? What spells do you know? he asked.

    I don't know any spells, but I can do some simple and weak magic, and I want to learn how to do more, said Connor.

    No spells? Elgar asked with a dubious expression while stroking his beard again as if it were a pet, show me.

    Connor let out a sigh. At last!

    He walked to the nearest candleholder and blew out the candles, leaving wisps of smoke trailing in the air.

    I don't know any formal spells, nor do I have any formal training so I would warn you that it can be a little unstable, Connor said.

    The wizard waved his hand. Just get on with it, he said, though his eyes shone with a hint of curiosity.

    Connor's palms started to sweat.

    This was his chance to show what he could do, but his magic was erratic and weak.

    What if it didn't work? What if he blew his chance?

    He turned his attention to one of the candles and held out his hand with one finger pointing at the wick.

    He closed his eyes and reached inside himself for his magic that writhed within. He grasped it with his awareness and pulled on it.

    Like always, it wriggled and squirmed away from him like an eel. He furrowed his brows and wrestled with it, pulling it down his arm and through his fingers as he directed it out toward the candle wick.

    A small flame sprouted from the tip of his finger and lit the candle.

    He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and turned to face the wizard.

    Elgar was still stroking his beard though now there was a soft smile on his lips. Perhaps, you're not just a knuckle-dragging idiot... he said.

    Some of the tension Connor felt melted away, and he smiled.

    Elgar stood up from behind his desk and walked away.

    What? Hadn't he just impressed the old man?

    Well? Elgar asked, are you coming?

    Connor's eyes lit up, and he dashed after the wizard.

    He followed Elgar through another archway similar to the first, but a bit smaller, into another section of the head wizard's quarters.

    Where the room before was relatively spartan, with only a desk and enough books piled on it to sink a small boat, this section was like stepping into another world.

    Bookcases towered above them, reaching from the ground to the ceiling a hundred feet above.

    Connor shuddered. Gods have mercy, he muttered under his breath.

    If the wizard took him on as an apprentice... would he have to fetch books from the top shelves?

    Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to look at the rest of the room.

    Feather dusters and cloths flew through the air, dusting, cleaning, and polishing every surface as they flitted around with a mind of their own.

    He couldn't take his eyes off the magic happening around him, and tripped over a broom.

    He reflexively grabbed one of the shelves and stopped himself before he hit the floor.

    The broom he tripped over waggled at him as though scolding him for his inattention before shuffling away.

    Do keep up, said the wizard over his shoulder as he evaded everything with a practiced ease without even sparing a glance.

    Connor's smile grew, and his heart pounded faster with each step as he rushed after the wizard.

    He made sure to watch where he was going this time.

    You have magic, but we'll see if you have what it takes to become a real wizard, Elgar said.

    More tests? Bring it on.

    He led Connor to a large, circular room far in the back. Loose papers and strange devices littered the floor and desks like the work of a madman.

    Connor's hungry eyes took in everything around him as he practically vibrated with excitement, but when he looked up, he froze, and his eyes went wide.

    A glowing globe ten feet in diameter floated in the air above their heads.

    It was full of color, deep blues, sandy browns, vibrant greens, and parts as white as freshly fallen snow.

    He watched it, mesmerized. It felt familiar somehow, and as he stared at it, he noticed that it was slowly turning.

    He looked closer. It wasn't perfectly smooth like he'd first thought. There were ridges, crevices, letters, and strange markings.

    His eyes went wide when he realized what it was.

    An incredibly detailed model of Terra, of the whole world, suspended in the air with magic.

    The writing marked the different names of countries, and regions with faint lines dividing it into sections, showing the borders.

    Its beauty and detail was breathtaking. No dusty, old map could ever compare.

    He stood on the tips of his toes. When he did, he could just barely see the city they were in.

    The massive towering walls of Vigil looked like almost nothing. In fact, he assumed that even these tiny walls on the sphere were actually sized up so he could see them.

    He knew the world was huge, but seeing it like this...

    Splendid isn't it? said the wizard beside Connor.

    Connor pried his eyes away and turned back to the wizard. It's incredible, he said, where did you get it?

    I made it. It took me years of tinkering, but it was worth it, the wizard said with a note of pride. The nobles have been trying to buy it off me for years, he continued with a laugh, but I'd never let them have it.

    "But enough of that. Let's see if I can make a wizard out of you. You may have some magical talent that allows you to do spells without having to vocalize or go through incantations. But, you can forget that nonsense. We'll only be doing real magic here.

    What are you waiting for boy? Bring me that book, Elgar said, pointing a bony finger at a heavy tome with a red, withered cover.

    Connor's hands shook with excitement as he took the book off the shelf with great care and respect.

    He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it, as he brought it to the wizard. He felt like he would explode. He was finally going to learn some magic... he was so close now...

    Under the wizard's instruction, Connor placed the book on a stand and started flipping through it.

    The book was ancient, and it felt like the pages would crumble into dust if he wasn't careful.

    "This book contains basic spells. Most of them are rather useless, but until you master them, you'll never be able to do the more complex spells. They're also perfect to test if you really have any ability.

    Stop there. You'll be doing this spell. You already know how to light a candle, so this should be easy. It's just a simple spell to light candles. It's rather useless actually. There are far easier ways to do something so basic. It's a good starting point, though, Elgar said.

    Connor read through the ritual. Just as Elgar had said, it was a long, if simple, ritual to light a candle.

    It would be far more time consuming than even his unstable magic, but the words and motions looked simple and easy to do. If a bit long-winded.

    He practiced the motions and the words. Elgar corrected a few minor errors, but he quickly had the ritual down, and it was time to do the spell properly, not just in practice.

    Just as in his few minutes of practice before, he moved his hands over the candle on the desk in front of him as he said the words of power.

    Nothing happened.

    He furrowed his brows. He'd done everything right hadn't he? Elgar hadn't corrected him... had he missed something?

    Come on boy, said Elgar with a huff, If I'm going to train you, we have no time to dawdle on such simple tasks. Quickly now, come on.

    Connor tried again. This time, he pulled on his magic and channeled it into the spell more like he normally would.

    He strained with the trickle of power inside him, and the wick of the candle glowed softly before dying out again.

    He ground his teeth.

    He was following the instructions perfectly, even going so far as to pull on his magic. Why wasn't this working?

    Elgar sighed. Perhaps you aren't fit to be a wizard after all, he said.

    Connor wouldn't accept that. He refused to. He hadn't come this far only to fail now!

    If his magic wouldn't work, then he would make it work.

    The wizard's impatient gaze bored into him, as he went through the spell again.

    But, this time, he poured all of his anger and frustration into the spell as he pulled on his magic as hard as he could.

    He felt like a rake was being dragged through his veins. His hands trembled over the candle and throbbed with more power than he'd ever felt before.

    Again, nothing happened. It was like it was stuck and just wouldn't budge.

    Why did his magic have to be so damn difficult to use!

    He struggled with his magic, forcing it with all his will and concentration.

    His hands started to tingle.

    Right, I suppose that's it, Elgar said, I guess you aren't meant to be a wizard. Sorry, lad.

    The wizard's words sent a spike of rage and despair through Connor's whole being.

    He trembled, burning with anger, as his magic thrummed inside him like never before. Still locked in the end motion of the spell.

    Something gave, and his magic finally released.

    The candle exploded in a burst of flames sending hot wax everywhere, but he didn't stop. He kept pulling as hard as he could on his magic, despite the pain it caused him.

    He would make this wizard see what he could be.

    Fire crackled in mid-air, swirling and twirling chaotically as he pushed all he could into it.

    The fire reacted to itself and exploded. It knocked Connor and the wizard onto the floor and roared upward, engulfing the magical globe which had fascinated Connor earlier.

    The globe flickered and dropped like a rock. It smashed into the floor and shattered into a million pieces, sending out a pulse of blue energy.

    The blue energy melded with the fire and created an intense blue flame that incinerated anything it touched as it spread across the room.

    Connor and the wizard cowered in the corner as flames enveloped everything around them.

    Beside him, Elgar's mouth hung open in shock and horror as his instruments, his books, and his prized orb were destroyed right before his eyes.

    Elgar snapped out of it and extended his arms as he said a word of power. A freezing cold wind burst from his fingertips and covered everything in a layer of frost and ice.

    Connor stayed in the corner, trying to avoid the raging flames and the biting cold that surrounded him.

    When the last flames died out, he stood up.

    The floor was a blackened mess covered in ashen piles of what were once priceless books and artifacts. The gorgeous orb lay in shattered pieces like worthless shards of glass.

    Elgar stood in the center of the room, his eyes filled with horror.

    Connor swallowed hard. I'm sorry, I never meant to— he started.

    Get out, Elgar said as he trembled with rage.

    I'm sorry, it's just my magic is so unstable. That's why I came to you for training... Connor said.

    I said get out! Elgar bellowed. The veins in his forehead pulsed as he continued, Do you not see what you have done? A simple spell! One of the simplest, and you caused ruin and chaos! You will not learn magic! Not from me, or any wizard in this entire city. I'll make damn sure of that! You will never learn magic.

    But I—

    Get out!


    Connor sat alone in one of the many corridors inside the palace with his head in his hands.

    This had been his chance to walk a path that would grant him the power to seek out his parents and find what happened to them. His path to revenge and retribution.

    And he'd failed.

    It was like a knife to his heart.

    When his magic had appeared, he'd thought it was a sign of what he was meant to do. A way out of this life. A way to get

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