Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (128 page)
Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
Within the span of a few months the entire future of the world had been rewritten. Out of obscurity two new champions blessed by the gods had arisen upon the face of Thurr. Believed twins, these champions had special abilities that made each of them an asset in battle. Heeding the call of their kingdom, Seth and Garret had marched to war against the black horde, a formidable army comprised of orcs, trolls and goblins.
* * * * *
Using his unparalleled magical abilities, Seth created a new race of men to serve the kingdom of Valdadore, melding wolves with men to form werewolves. At their head, Seth appointed Borrik, a once-human priest to the goddess Ishanya, who now served loyally as the alpha werewolf, a vicious predator designed for killing. Garret, trained by the mighty Knights of Valdadore, became a warrior unlike any other, impenetrable to physical harm by any weapon. Together with their allies, the brothers faced the previously undefeated black horde. Though the battle had eventually been won so, too, had much been lost.
Taking an arrow to the neck, Sara, Seth’s young wife, had fallen in the battle. Losing control of his powers in his anguish and rage, Seth unleashed his magic with devastating effect to both friend and foe. In that final blast, the battle was won as thousands of enemy troops were obliterated. However, the King of Valdadore and several of his blessed warriors were also destroyed by it. Seth and Sara were nowhere to be found. Most assumed them dead, as no trace remained of the young couple.
* * * * *
His brother, king, and mentor Lord Sirus all slain, Garret had no choice but to ignore the emotions threatening to overwhelm him as his new duties begin to stack up in service to the kingdom. Witnessing the suicide of Sirus’s wife Sasha, he was charged with looking after their beautiful daughter, Linaya. Each overcome with their own sorrows, Garret and Linaya sought solace from one another and became closer by the day as a deep-seated love began to grow between them.
* * * * *
Seth and Sara found themselves transported to a foreign land following the magical blast that had ended the battle with the black horde. Though Sara had been mortally wounded, Seth managed to save the woman he loved by using his powers to combine her life force with that of a species of bat with amazing healing abilities. However, he soon began to realize that his magic came with untold and sometimes devastating consequences. As Sara was restored, it quickly became apparent that their lives together would change immensely. Sara had become an agile, powerful, bloodthirsty predator who could no longer tolerate the sun. Together the pair set out to find their way back home, but were captured and delayed by a tribe of miniature warriors. Hearing these people’s sad tale of persecution by the mysterious Zoomba, Seth and Sara allied themselves with the small race in hopes of defeating another immense enemy. Little did they know that the enemies were cat-sized insects that numbered in the millions.
* * * * *
Borrik, the alpha werewolf, sent his hybrid troops in all directions to seek out Seth following the battle with the black horde, confidently believing his master still alive. Leading a small contingent of wolf troops himself, he was approached by more of Seth’s creations in the night. A pair of feline girls Seth had shaped prior to the battle swore that they knew the location of their creator. Changing course, Borrik followed the trail laid before him by the sisters, racing east towards the mountainous border of Valdadore. As he and his men raced day in and out to reach their master, the lunar cycle progressed. Under the influence of the twin full moons in the sky, the contingent of hybrid wolfmen were filled by lust-induced rage, and brutally raped the inhabitants of a small community before fleeing the scene to again seek out their master.
Cresting the mountains the pack of werewolves were accosted by a giant and took several casualties before finally bringing the immense beast down. Rejoined by another pack of his troops, Borrik led his men onwards and soon witnessed Seth’s magical fire in the distance. Leaving his injured men behind, Borrik and his troops raced with no regard for their own safety to his side.
* * * * *
Reunited with his troops, Seth formulated a plan to defeat the insect army. Together with the help of the werewolves and the miniature warriors, Seth and Sara managed to destroy the queen of the insects. Their leader lost, the remainder of the Zoomba dispersed as Seth, his wife and his hybrid soldiers headed back to the capital city of Valdadore. Along the way they were rejoined by the remainder of Seth’s small personal army of mutated men before reaching their destination.
* * * * *
Garret sought to help repair the kingdom, and now, as a member of the royal council in his role as a Knight of Valdadore, he had the means to do so. He used his meager influence to help vote good people into positions of worth within the kingdom with the help of allies in the council. When it came to selecting a new king, however, two unexpected events occurred. First, Garret made an enemy of the powerful battle mage Vladmere who fled the city after setting the mages’ tower ablaze once he realized he would not be elected as king. Second, Garret was tricked into the most powerful position within the kingdom, and within weeks a crowning ceremony was held in his honor.
If being crowned king of a mighty kingdom was not enough to make a memorable day for Garret, Linaya had also professed her love for him the night before. To top that off, little over an hour after being crowned, Garret was surprised yet again as his brother apparently returned from the dead with his resurrected lover in tow. But that was still not the end of the most memorable day of his life. No sooner was the new royal family reunited than a messenger from the western border of Valdadore arrived to announce that the kingdom was being invaded by their neighbors led by King Sigrant. Bloodshed, it seemed, would not remain a thing of their past.
* * * * *
Having learned to enchant inanimate objects, Seth helped to equip warriors with weapons and armor with magical attributes. Beyond that he began to create his own champions out of those loyal to his cause, blessing them with size, strength and more. The kingdom of Valdadore marched out to meet the approaching foe but was caught off guard by magic unlike anything ever seen before. The enemy, it seemed, had abilities at their command that could destroy Valdadore.
* * * * *
With the death of Seth, the waking god, Sara became a prisoner of war as the invading king, Robert Sigrant, used her in hopes of utilizing her gift to his own dark ends. With the dark prince defeated, and his princess captured, Sigrant has Valdadore under his heel as the battle ensues. Though, he does not know that a Dwarven army a hundred thousand strong marches to the aid of Valdadore at the behest of Zorbin and Linaya. Though only one could claim it, all seek a victory that will forever alter the Fate of Thurr…
The landscape lay wasted, a testament to the butchery of previous hours. Here lay the disfigured corpses of thousands of soldiers, those decimated beneath the feet of blessed champions and supply wagon alike. Blood coated the ground everywhere, though now in the darkness it could not be seen, but everything was slick with the gore. The cold had blown in wickedly from the north with the coming of darkness. It threatened a winter storm, turning blood to ice, and creating a crystallized frost on everything as if to preserve the macabre scene for an eternity. Though a waterfall plummeted into the ground, to be lost from sight in the unknown depths of a giant chasm cut into the face of Thurr, its falling water only created a resonating hum somewhere below as occasional blasts of steam were exhaled from the giant scar. Naught but the occasional caw from a scavenger bird, or growl from feasting predator, broke the eerie silence that had fallen over the battlefield. Even those animals that dared feed upon the men steered clear of the southern edge of the field, for at that place a strange charge emanated and electrified the air.
A large circle of ash rested at the southern edge of the field, a blight that even now showed signs of unholy sacrifice. At the perimeter, piles of carcasses still smoldered, flames peeking out into the night occasionally to paint the scene in hues of red and orange. Even now, hours after the combatants had moved on, the ash lay undisturbed. It had become a shrine, or perhaps a solitary display of respect to the man who had fallen there. None upon the field had thought he could be killed, the walking god known as Seth, the dark prince of Valdadore. And those who believed were as of yet correct.
His eyes flashing open, Seth gulped air, pain flooding through his body with each gasp. He tried to move, to relieve the pain, but his body refused to cooperate. Looking this way and that, his eyes darted in his skull, seeking aid that did not exist. He was alone. Paralyzed.
Pins and needles exploded in his chest moments later and proceeded to torture him further by slowly spreading to his smallest of extremities. He spasmed several times as life rejoined his corpse, and as feeling began to return he again tried to move with moderate success. Everything was stiff. Everything hurt. His own blood was frozen to his body, matting down his hair as well as coating his armor, though as his temperature rose to mimic his former life, the armor warmed and the blood began to drip once again. In his breastplate a great hole remained, its jagged edges folded inward to cut into his flesh with every movement. He could have fixed it with a thought, but preferred the reminder. Feeling anything, even pain, was welcome. After all, he had secured what none other on Thurr could claim. Seth had died. He had left the realm of mortal beings, and been given the chance to return to fix that which he had broken, and keep the oaths he had sworn. This time there would be no mistakes.
Assured that the pain intended to linger within him for some time, Seth rolled to his side and pushed himself into a seated position with a groan. He felt as the last bits of his internal injuries stitched themselves back together, repairing the damage done by the massive ballista bolt that had impaled him hours before.
Around him was a wasteland of death. He alone realized the tragedy of it all, but he alone could not end the cycle. Grimacing he tried to rise, sucking in breath between his teeth in response to the pain. It was no longer the pain of injuries nor mortal flesh, but an unusual pain that encompassed his entire being, soul and all. Slowly he rose to his feet and peeled the blood-soaked and frozen cowl from his head, tearing out hair as he did. With every move his damaged breastplate dug once more into his chest, only to heal nearly instantly. Seth had become like Sara. He had been to a small degree before, but now he too was a creature of the night. He could feel the thirst, and recognized it for what it was. But with his immense power he did not feel the desire to satiate it.
Having returned from the realm of the dead, he had no measure for how much time had passed. He could have been gone mere hours or days. He couldn’t be sure. Seth knew this much though, the battle here was over. Stretching first physically, and then mentally, he assured himself that all was intact. Drawing his power into himself he turned toward Valdadore, and unleashed it in an invisible torrent of tendrils in all directions. Mere seconds passed as he reached beyond reason to locate those he could recognize. Garret, Borrik, and Jonas all lived, as did seven of his other werewolf troops. They had been decimated in his absence. Seth’s shoulders slumped for a moment, but was interrupted in his mourning as he located the camp of Sigrant’s army.
Realization dawned upon him instantly of the danger Valdadore faced. Without him the city and the kingdom would fall in minutes if a battle ensued. Gathering his thoughts and emotions, Seth began to stride towards the city when he found her. He froze in his tracks, his connection to her tenuous at best. Sara moved away from the city. Away from him. She was so far away, Seth could hardly feel her at all. He tried to see with his power the details of her surroundings but was unable. The only reason he could even locate her at this distance was the sheer volume of power she herself contained. He wanted to go to her. No. He
needed
to go to her. Ishanya had told him that Sara had been captured and was destined to be tortured, but there was nothing he could do. The bargain he had struck with the goddess prevented him from taking action. All he could do was return to Valdadore and see the war through. Then he would be free to rescue his wife. He had failed her once already, and she had been captured due to his failure. He would not fail her again.
With the unnatural pain from reconnecting with mortal flesh subsiding, Seth leaned forward into the darkness and began to run. The ground was slick, and filled with ruts and corpses. He could see better in the darkness now that he had been changed, but even with better night vision and agility, he was not spared indignity. Time and again he tripped and fell. Time and again he was injured. Each and every time he arose again to heal nearly instantaneously and continue running as fast as his body would take him. It would be hours before he could reach Valdadore, though he knew not if the city, his brother, and those that needed him had hours.
He had never mastered the magical teleportation that he had invoked by accident in the past, nor did he trust the ability even if he could duplicate it. Running in the darkness, he sought a solution. He could easily give himself summonable wings as he had done for Borrik, but he would have to carefully create the tedious bindings that held them magically within him. Let alone it would take him hours to learn to use them. As he had done at The Choosing and several times in battle since, he could use his power in a torrent to throw himself into the air and propel himself towards Valdadore, but this was also a haphazard approach that would likely lead him to more setbacks.
He was physically stronger now than he was prior to his death. He was also more agile. His immense aura expanded his mind into untold abilities. He was able to calculate, postulate, and solve things that just months before he could not have even fathomed. Truth told, the only thing holding him back was his own fears. Seth shrugged to himself in the darkness as he stumbled once again.
Ishanya said if my condition was a hindrance, that I should fix it…
Seth began sorting through the menagerie of beasts’ auras he contained. Choosing those same pieces he had adorned his most trusted servant with, he began tearing away portions and snapping them into place within his own aura.
Concentrating on the mental task, he stripped his armor as he ran, exposing the newly forming wings upon his back. Black, leathery, ribbed appendages sprouted from his flesh, growing steadily. Muscles and sinew formed at odd angles in his back, attaching to ribs and other muscle groups. Seth’s spine thickened to support the load as he flexed his new muscles. The giant leathery appendages stretched out, gathering air in their folds, slowing his run to a crawl. He shifted the new wings and felt lighter on his feet as he again was able to pick up speed. He didn’t need to master flight, he just needed the basics.
He had witnessed Borrik’s struggle to gain altitude, and as such gave himself a larger wing span in proportion to his body. The large wings felt odd upon his back, changing his center of gravity. Every movement of the wings caused his stride and gait to change in order to stay upright. Seth needed to get airborne, and began flapping to no avail. Running still, he altered the angle of his wings and leapt, flapping furiously. He managed the span of several strides upon the air, mere feet above the ground. He
could
do it.
Leaning further forward he sprinted with all his might, his legs pumping harder than he could ever recall. With each step he flapped his mighty wings and again he sprang into the air. Again he managed to cover a large swathe of ground before he again returned to the earth. He needed help.
Birds glided on the wind, didn’t they?
That was of no use though, as tonight a cold wind blew from the north. In order to utilize it, Seth would have to be traveling north, facing into the wind like a kite… Unless, of course, he created his own wind.
Summoning his power Seth unleashed a torrent of invisible power, guiding it into his wings. Still nothing happened. He tilted his wings and varied the angle at which his power raged into them. Then… Finally… It happened. With almost no effort, Seth began to rise into the air, his wings filling like sails upon a ship. He rose higher and higher into the cold night sky, channeling his own power to drive him further and further. Higher still he climbed before he realized that he still was making no progress. He was going up, but not forward. He knew the trick was changing the angle of his wings to his magical wind, and likely his center of gravity as well and acted upon the knowledge. Leaning forward, cutting the angle of his wings into the wind, he lurched forward for an instant before losing the wind in his wings and plummeting downward. Yelling as he fell, even though he knew he would heal from whatever injuries awaited, he tried to right himself. Spiraling out of control, one wing caught the air before the other, causing him to somersault once before smashing to the ground, his head folding under his back with a loud cracking sound.
Light exploded before his eyes and a burning sensation washed through his entire body before his vision began to go dark. Fighting the urge to panic, Seth struggled to remain conscious. Already the burning began to subside and the sensation of his limbs returned. Rolling to the side, he pushed his head back into alignment with his spine and waited the seconds until he was mended enough to rise again.
Just a moment later and Seth was airborne again. This time he was more cautious, and a few moments of trial and error later he shouted victoriously as he swept forward through the air, faster than he had hoped possible. It was not mastery. Hell, it wasn’t even really flight. More like gliding. But at the pace he was managing, he would make Valdadore within an hour.
* * * * *
Borrik paced Valdadore’s immense defensive outer wall, listening for any sign of the enemy’s approach. The day had been lost. Seth had been lost. Sara too was lost. All that was left to lose was Valdadore, his childhood home. Most of his men had fallen already, leaving him barely over half a dozen. His ability to hear his pack’s thoughts made his mind nearly as empty as his heart this night, as all was quiet, none daring to ponder what the coming hours would bring. Though every able bodied man and woman who remained manned the walls, they were as silent as death. The city felt like a tomb to Borrik, and sadly he wasn’t the only one. Borrik could feel it on the air. Everyone felt stalked by death. It was only a matter of time.
Stretching his great leathery wings he peered out into the darkness, searching for movement. He could not see Sigrant’s camp anymore, now that night had fallen and clouds obscured the moons and stars. That didn’t keep him from focusing his senses on it though. Again and again he strained in the darkness, listening for any clue that the final attack was coming. Valdadore might hold out for a few days. Maybe even a couple of weeks. Eventually, however, Sigrant’s forces would gain entry to the city and all would be lost.
Cold wind began blasting the tops of the city walls, creating odd gusts and updrafts. Frost crystals began to form on the stone of the defenses, and those that paced nervously ceased, for fear of slipping on the newly forming ice and plummeting to their deaths. Borrik wondered if such a death would be better than what awaited with the enemy. It was true, he could flee at any time with little fear of harm, but where would he go? There was no one to go to, and this was his home. At least in death he would be reunited with his master.
Shaking his head vigorously, in an attempt to clear his mental state, the giant, alpha werewolf again strained his senses into the distance. Though the wind called mournfully as it crossed the plains to crash into Valdadore’s walls, Borrik noticed a difference upon it. The sound of the wind was not accompanied by another new sound. Nor was there an odd scent upon the air. Instead there was neither. Everything in the distance had gone silent. For hours there had been faint cries and screams upon the wind, but now… nothing. No animals called out. Nothing stirred. Borrik turned and looked to his second in command.
“The enemy approaches.” Jonas, the only remaining werewolf captain, confirmed Borrik’s unspoken thought.
“I’ll give the warning,” Borrik replied to his mottled colored companion. “Incoming!” Borrik shouted as everyone on the wall turned to peer into the distance, looks of fear and determination appearing on their faces. In the distance, somewhere within the city, an infant cried out before being silenced suddenly, likely by a breast shoved into its awaiting mouth.