Always

The following is planned bonus content for the Death Touch book. Essentially, I will be including four short stories which detail the future of the champions. You can already catch the first of these stories, which was written about Clint a long time ago, here!

David was late.

He had stopped in for a few minutes at home to gather the costume he had prepared his presentation before rushing back to the car. His mom had promised to have it sent to his school by lunchtime. He could understand if she was too busy to be bothered with this simple errand, but that was why she paid Lisa to cover her more trivial tasks. Like being a parent!

He bundled his leather harness, whitebark chestplate and green woolen kilt into the passenger seat of his blue covered convertible and crawled inside through driver's side door. He had found the Katrinean shaman's garb on his bed, precisely where he'd left it that morning. I can't count on anybody! With a grunt of frustration, the boy started his car and backed out of the garage of the Governor's Estate at a frenzied speed. He compensated for his haste with perfect control as he turned around and sped out of the driveway and toward the open roadways of Solan. He drove recklessly through the city's sleepy traffic, driven by his frenzied terror of being late mixed with frustration at having been let down once again. He managed to avoid every one of them with ease, oblivious to how much the safety of everyone in his path had relied on luck.

It had been worth it when he parked in the underground garage of Winstrom Academy and carried his shamanic attire into the auditorium with minutes to spare. His mother would have winced to see him changing into his traditional clothes while on the run to the venue, but he didn't share her compulsion to shy away from attention. People laughed and clapped as he ran by, trying to pull off his pants from beneath the hastily donned kilt. His classmates were used to such hilarious displays, but he would be taking the secret that none of this was planned to his grave.

David was desperately upset.

But he bore his shame with a jocular grin, knowing that it would take a flawless presentation to save his cultural studies grade. He was still running at full sprint as he tore off his shirt and threw the leather harness straps over his shoulders. He stumbled through the back door of the auditorium with a sigh, with only three minutes remaining. He took a few slow steps away from the door and set the heavy wooden chestplate down against a wall to fasten his harness to the kilt. He then picked up the chestplate with a grunt and stumbled toward the stage entrance to await his presentation.

Though he was still panting at first, he needn't have worried from the moment he set foot in the building. His class were meant to be discussing their family bloodlines and their historical contributions to Resta. But David wasn't the only Harret in the class and the culture of his grandparents was far more relevant to Restans than a populous name pinned to the lapel of every generic soldier. The history of Katrine led to his mother, who had a direct hand in shaping the course of Restan history before becoming one of its provincial governors. It was going to be easy to keep the class enraptured, but his report and its delivery had to be perfect. He had been preparing for longer than he cared to admit for this. He studied at home for nearly a month to memorize every aspect of his grandparents' culture. He'd even practiced a bit of storm magic and invited his arcane studies professor for an attempt at extra credit in his class.

When it was finally time for him to present his account of the island-dwelling tribe of Katrine, David started with the moon goddess of the same name that is worshiped there. He went on to explain the shaman and storm mages who band together to protect its people from the vicious thunderstorms and hurricanes that regularly threaten the land, and the pride Katrineans have in taming such a hostile landscape. Like in most cases, all who beheld him were enraptured by his voice. He sometimes called it a curse, but he could never seriously deny the comfort he felt in the spotlight. When he concluded his story, he sighed and walked away without talking to anyone. He was sure he'd be passing cultural and arcane studies now, but he was far too tired to celebrate.

The drive home had been far less urgent, so David allowed himself to meld into the leisurely flow of traffic this time. As twilight set over the city, though, he found himself drowsy. Remembering his mother's "basic common sense" rules, he pulled over by a country road separating the estate from the rest of the city. Under the shadow of two evergreens, he sighed and tilted his head back, debating whether to take a quick nap or pull himself together. But his mind was already set on the former from the moment he stopped, so he closed his eyes.

Later, David was awoken by an urgent tapping on the window. He jumped awake with a start to find his mother standing outside, her blonde hair stained with an unknown color. He looked around and groaned, realizing it had grown quite late while he slept. There was only just enough light to make out those familiar facial features on her pale face.

"What are you doing out here?" She demanded.

David bit his tongue, holding down the urge to act on the crankiness he felt at having been awoken so abruptly and having been previously let down. He rolled down the window slowly and rolled his eyes.

"Just following basic common sense. I was too tired to drive, so I pulled over."

"Get out of the car!" she ordered.

Knowing better than to make the woman repeat herself, David pulled off his seat belt and pushed the door open slowly before stumbling out of the car, still drowsy. But before he could clear the numbness that sleep had brought to him, he was swiftly enfolded within his mother's arms. This was unusual itself, but as she pulled him close to her, he could clearly smell blood on her.

"Mum, what's going on? Are you okay?"

David extricated himself from her as gently as he could and looked her over in the moonlight. She seemed to have a hole in the leather jacket she wore and was bleeding through her lower right abdomen. The stains in her hair could more clearly be seen as blood.

"I wasn't having the best day until I found you," the mother admitted as she slumped against the car. "I've handled worse than the initial attack, but when I got to the house, I couldn't find you. Professor Hawke said you already left school, so I thought the worst had happened."

"Didn't Lisa give you the note I left this afternoon?" David said with a more subdued tone than was usual for him. "I was upset earlier because she forgot to bring my costume!"

The mother shook her head. "David, Lisa's dead. I just thought you were too!"

David went silent in shock at this revelation. Less than a day ago, he silently screamed for Lisa's sacking, but to be told she was now dead brought back the affection he had felt for the housekeeper. But more importantly, nothing made any sense to him. Who would want the famous Champion of Salica and her household dead? How did he not notice that Lisa was gone?

Mia took the boy back into her embrace. "I'm so sorry for everything! If I told you more about myself, the two of you could have been prepared for what happened today! Lisa is dead because of me!"

David struggled to free his face from the stench of her blood-soaked arm and gasped. "Why?"

"I live a more dangerous life than you've ever known," the mother said with a tearful sniff. "The biggest mistake I've ever made is trying to keep my work a secret from you!"

"What work?"

Mia shook her head and nuzzled the crown of his head with her chin. "We'll talk later. We need to get to the house and call a healer. Help me get in the car."

David nodded and hastily stuffed his shaman garb into the trunk of his car before guiding his mother into the backseat. As he began to drive once more, the Champion mumbled something so quietly, it was very well possible he was never meant to hear her.

"I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Always."