Welcome to the Secret World of Malladay
by T M John
In the process of finishing 'Virago' and loving every minute!
Writing has always been more than storytelling for me; it is about building a world that feels as real and immersive as the one we inhabit. With Malladay, I have created a place where history, folklore and adventure collide, a world that continues to expand with every page.
The magic of Malladay lies not only in its hidden landscapes and forgotten lore, but in the characters who carry its weight, the mysteries still unfolding, and the threads of legend woven through its foundations.
Research has been essential in shaping this world. The Mabinogion and Historia Regum Britanniae by Geoffrey of Monmouth have been invaluable, grounding the narrative in the deep-rooted myths and ancient history of Britain, and particularly of my home country, Wales.
These texts, alongside many others, have informed the legends that echo throughout Malladay, allowing reality and the fantastical to sit side by side.
My focus now is on completing Virago, the third book in the series, where the stakes rise and the conflict between Awen and Glamour deepens. The journey of Tom, Emily and Max is far from over, and the world of Malladay stands on the brink of profound change.
Expanding this universe and bringing it to its conclusion is both a challenge and a privilege, and I look forward to sharing what comes next.
This is an excerpt from Book Two:
The moment the helm had settled on her head, something else had settled within her, something vast and unrelenting. It was not a single memory but a great tide of them, rushing into her mind like waves against the shore. Voices that were not her own whispered through her thoughts, battle cries, the clashing of steel, the weight of war, of destiny, of sacrifice. She saw flashes of faces she did not recognise, men and women draped in cloaks of red and gold, banners snapping in the wind, a great hall filled with firelight and the heavy press of history.
Then came the emotions. A king’s burden. The fear of failure. The knowledge that an entire world rested upon decisions that could never be taken back.
It was too much.
Her breath came in short gasps as she stumbled backwards, her fingers going slack around the hilt of Excalibur. The sword dropped into the thick grass without a sound. The weight of the helm felt unbearable, pressing down as though the spirits of the past sought to crush her beneath the enormity of their expectations.
"I can’t do this."
Here’s an excerpt from Book Three – Virago!
The chamber was silent.
Not the silence of peace, nor the hush of forgotten things, but the kind that crouched in the depths of ancient places, waiting. The air, thick with dust and the scent of Mordred’s final moments, swirled lazily. For centuries, time had been held captive within these walls, reluctant to stir the stillness that had settled like a shroud.
At the far end of the vast chamber, upon its raised black dais, the stone casket remained untouched.
Black as the abyss, its surface gleamed like polished marble, dark veins of silver creeping along its length like the roots of something buried too deep to die. The symbols etched into its sides had been blackened with age, indistinguishable from the stone—until…
A pulse.
Faint.
A whisper of movement in the lifeless dark.
Then another.
A slow, rhythmic glow seeped through the carved sigils, the veins of silver igniting with an eerie luminescence. The air quivered, the walls seeming to draw breath. A slow exhale, as if the chamber had been waiting for this moment.
Glamour flowed.