“It’s a cross between Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of OZ where you will be swept away into a magical land of Dwarves, Elves, and Halflings.”
Voted #1 BEST fantasy book under the radar!
Voted #1 Best Christian Sci-Fi/Fantasy Book!
Voted #1 Best Indie Fantasy Book!
In the hundreds of years since the Holy City disappeared, darkness has fallen over the land. Human kingdoms have seized control of the realm, scattering the other races into hiding.
Bridazak, a skilled thief, and his friends, a Dwarf and a fellow Ordakian, have dared to remain within the human communities and live relatively quiet lives, until they discover a mysterious, magical artifact. The three friends are thrust into an adventure that will challenge their faith, their purpose, and their destiny as they chase a forgotten and lost prophecy across the realm of Ruauck-El, where they hope to discover the origins of the strange item and their place in its history.
An ancient, unknown enemy threatens the completion of their journey at every turn. Bridazak is about to face the biggest adventure of his life, one that may change the known realm, and answer the questions he has carried all his life. Will they unlock the truth?
Brae Wyckoff was born and raised in San Diego, CA and is working toward a Psychology degree. He has been married to his beautiful wife, Jill, for 20 years, and they have three children; Tommy, Michelle, and Brittany. He has a beautiful grandson named Avery. Brae has been an avid gamer since 1985. His passion for mysterious realms and the supernatural inspired him to write The Orb of Truth, the first in a series of fantasy action adventures. Brae describes The Orb of Truth as a cross between the Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of OZ where you will be swept away into a magical land of Dwarves, Elves, and Halflings.
Book Trailer Video:
Its leaves were like clear glass, and when the sun broke the horizon to announce the new day, a kaleidoscope of colors danced, dazzling the people who had gathered. It stood twenty feet tall, a glorious beacon of light, attracting all in the vicinity. Silver and purple woven wood harmonized to form the base, stretching up and then gracefully out. Hundreds of branches waved gently in the breeze, causing the crystal petals to chime, creating a beautiful chorus, like angels singing, harkening those with ears to hear.
On this day, the Tree was found on a grassy hill overlooking a small village. Residents of Brook Haven slowly emerged from their dwellings and began to assemble. The crowd of men, women, and children swelled until the entire community formed a half circle around the base of the knoll. None would approach the Tree any closer.
A man—carrying his sick child, pale as snow—broke through, streaks of tears running down his cheeks. “Please help me,” he whispered as he laid his boy on the grassy slope.
One of the thousands of crystal petals snapped free from the strong branch and descended like a feather. As it fell, it slowly disintegrated, leaving a trail of shimmering dust which lingered, suspended in the air until the prismatic pattern faded. Each brief flash of reflected light was like a strum on a lyre. Everyone was entranced by the hypnotic action, including the father. They refocused on the debilitated child when they heard the boy speak, “Papa?”
“My boy!” he said as he lunged for him in a tight embrace, kneeling on the ground beside him. He peered up to the Tree, “Thank you, for my son.”
Witnessing the boldness of the desperate man gave another the courage to step forward. “Pardon, um, Great Tree, I, well, I could use some advice.”
He lowered his head and grew altogether quiet for a moment, not noticing another petal falling. Then his posture and demeanor slowly changed. He turned and faced the hushed crowd of onlookers, but looked lighter and freer. Whatever burden had been bothering him had clearly lifted as he trotted off back to their town; another petal descended.
More people brought requests before it, and throughout the day a leaf would fall for each granted miracle. Finally, the brilliant, golden light of the setting sun illuminated the relic with a blinding halo. The people shielded their eyes from the intensity, and within seconds the aura dissipated, and the Tree, along with it, had vanished.
Sheets of blustery snow swirled around the shallow cave entrance and the howling wind echoed within. A mound of white fur huddled in the back recesses for warmth. Hot breath escaped in uneven heaves from the several gathered creatures. The cold air whipped at their backs. Their faces were hidden from the elements.
An intense light blared to life outside, followed by soothing warmth. The snow flurry settled and the wind calmed. A head popped up from the tangled fur, surprised by the phenomena. The large, rounded white pupils of the Yeshi reflected the sparkling petals of the Tree of legend.
One of the beings approached, crunching snow underfoot, tenderly holding one mangled, fur-patched arm. A not uncommon injury, the result of a recent battle within the inhospitable mountain range they resided in. He extended his bloody appendage, and watched a single petal fall as the damaged limb was restored to health. The creature turned and called out to the apprehensive clan in its language of Yeshi, “We host the Tree of Lore! Come while you can! Bring your requests and offer them without fear! Hurry before it departs!”
The lumbering, beast-like creature turned and fell to his knees before the amazing spectacle, bowing repeatedly. After years of suffering turmoil in these harsh mountains, never daring to hope the Tree would come so far to aid them, it had arrived. From this day forward, his clan would never be the same.