Death Touch Final Version Preview

 Hello, readers! I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately! Life got in the way for a very long time, but I am still working on the final draft of Death Touch! I'm not going to post every single chapter again but, I wanted to give y'all a chance to compare the polished of the version of this story that will eventually be released in book form to the version that we've enjoyed together on this site with one more look at the first chapter. You can find the previous version of this chapter here and check out the rest of the story from there! Information about the release of the finally complete story will be coming soon!

Chapter 1

Sara

What a dreary place! Sara Marle was never one to complain that anything in her life was uninteresting, but there was no other word for the village of Palon. This quiet hamlet had only been standing for twenty years when she found herself there for the first time, strolling to the top of a grassy hill within its local park. Beyond this grove of peculiar white trees with orange leaves atop a seemingly endless expanse of rolling hills, there was very little to see. Less than two dozen houses, four ships, an inn and an infirmary were all one had to mark the reach of civilization into this corner of Southern Resta. 

Palon was no place for children and families, to be sure. Most of the people Sara met during her recent visit to the local inn claimed to be adventurers who would challenge the nearby Lightning Ridge. The spellwarriors of Hem Academy once claimed this jagged valley of wild growth and even wilder creatures as a training ground until they were forced to abandon their facilities to the elements. This had led to a plethora of adventurers setting up camp in Palon, hoping for the slightest glance at the inscriptions left behind the Hem Order in its abandoned ruins. One could encounter the small crowd of hardened travelers and conclude that supporting their work was the entire purpose of Palon’s existence. 

But for Sara, it was only a stop on her way home. Just days ago, she had faced the first test of her life as an acolyte of the Blackstone Order. As a priestess, she had only recently begun to practice speaking with the gods, but no amount of hours spent drilling their language into her mind had prepared her for the confusion that followed when she heard the verse of her goddess, Lady Serenity for the first time. She hadn’t expected to completely understand her words during their first conversation but, for the life of her, she couldn’t help suspecting that what she had been struggling to make sense of had been an especially dire warning. 

While this seemed too urgent to discard as the impressions of an undisciplined mind, the mere suggestion of the Goddess of Tranquility uttering words of danger to an acolyte and not the more-experienced clergy members was more than impossible to accept. It had actually caused her to be imprisoned in her quarters for a week as the others desperately hoped for either clarification of Serenity’s will or confirmation of Sara’s misunderstanding. Finally, it was decided that she must leave the Blackstone Monastery, which she called home, and meditate on her interpretation of the divine independently. 

This is how Sara found herself traveling west. From Palon, she would be home in Beldor after another another two days of walking north. But, as the sun began to crest over the mountains to the west of the village, it was decided that this was the place where she would rest for the night. The sky’s fading golden light glistened through her silken auburn hair as she wandered up a narrow path toward the top of a particularly steep hill. She was fascinated by the massive white tree that was nestled on its pinnacle. As she approached, she would brush her fingers against the clusters of orange leaves which hung from its bleached branches as she recalled its name: Whitebark’s Promise. 

She breathed a sigh of reverence as she passed under the tree’s extraordinary canopy and pressed her palm to the smooth bark of its trunk. The air here wafted with a pleasant, minty aroma that brought back memories of drinking tea back in the gardens of the monastery. Through her study in the Serene faith, she knew that such calming places were nearly always meaningful. As she groped this rare arboreal specimen, she quickly felt the sensations she expected to. Her pulse slowed, her mind began to float with euphoria and her breathing became easier. She nodded to herself, thinking, This seems like a good place to meditate before retiring to the inn.

So, she straightened the hem of her dark green travel robes before and sat, cross-legged, at the base of the tree. She then inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, leaning back very slowly. When her head came to rest against the bark, she released her breath. Choosing to contemplate the stillness of the land around her, it was easy to lull herself into the trance she sought. No predators, evil presences, or adverse weather remained to worry her. In this place, she was free from danger and could, just for now, lose herself in feelings of peace. In this blissful solitude, she then prayed to feel the loving peace that was Lady Serenity’s gift. 

The trance came for her quickly, as was characteristic of her particular efforts to commune with the divine. While anyone could theoretically do this, no one could slip into this state more easily than her. It was this gift which guided her to the Serene faith and, at the age of 21, she had already accomplished what had taken her elders twice her lifetime. She would hear frequently that the spiritual connection she had formed with the sacred realm of Fadal had grown to the point in which could actually hear Serenity’s voice a decade too soon. 

In this meditative state, Sara thought not of this, but of the mystery that had unfolded at what was once her sanctuary. She had long since gotten used to hearing disjoined words that held no particular meaning, figuring that meaning would come with more experience. But what chilled her was the one phrase she had been able to make out: “...lulled into complacency…”

Up to that point no one had any difficulty believing that Sara could hear the goddess’ gentle voice, but the possible implications of those words had soon caused a rift among the Monastery’s Serene sect. Some agreed that they were intended as a warning but far too many people instead viewed these words as proof that Sara must have lied about hearing Serenity’s voice at all. The more they debated, though, the more certain she became that there was something in those words. 

The Serene Church is in trouble, she had determined. For centuries, those of her faith had paid tribute to a goddess they always believed would shelter them from the dangers of this world with her own power. But if she were threatened, what use would her acolytes be to her if they had never known anything but perfect tranquility? When the goddess spoke, Sara could sense the desperation in her voice. There was something to this the others weren’t seeing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

When she first put her home of seven years behind her, she had planned to travel further north to the capitol after a respite in Beldor. It was there she had hoped to consult with the leaders of her faith to make sense of the warning she was sure she had received. But time was clearly against her, given how her elders had reacted to her warnings and the means with which information could flash between the various temples of the kingdom. 

So, Sara found herself in desperate need of the sort of guidance that had failed her for the first time. Without mentors to rely on, all she had left was praye, so she beseeched Serenity for clarification with no clue what to expect in return. Every time she went into a trance, she could feel the words becoming clearer, but her blood soon turned to ice with the eventual realization that she could hear nothing now. 

Fearing that she had made a mistake, the idea that she may have been excommunicated for disrupting the harmony of her former sanctuary began to play on her mind. The fear nearly brought her out of her trance entirely, but she soon felt as if a long pair of gentle arms had closed around her shoulders. As her thundering heart began to settle once more, it was immediately clear to the young acolyte what was happening. Though she couldn’t find the words to describe the sensation, it filled her with a certainty that Serenity was with her. Freed from her anxieties by this comforting embrace, the burning questions that had plagued her for the past few days raced through her mind. 

To Sara’s surprise, she soon heard Serenity’s voice once more. To compound her shock, the goddess spoke in a clear voice. 

“Sara Marle, I knew you would understand.”

Sara’s heart skipped as she took in this complete sentence. The Lady’s words didn’t yet convey any real meaning, but they confirmed the acolyte’s suspicions. She let out a deep sigh in her effort to control the growing elation which threatened her trance. To hear a deity’s voice as clearly as she had was unheard of and she didn’t want to lose that feeling soon. Her focus was further threatened with the chill wind that had rustled the leaves above her come dusk, despite the impenetrable warmth that now surrounded her. Despite this, she managed to put together a reply.

“My lady! I am honored by the sound of your voice!”the young cleric declared, for lack of anything better to say. 

“Be at peace, my child,” the goddess replied warmly. “My people and yours alike live in troubled times, but you are safe for the moment.”

These words, meant to soothe, tore away the veil of confusion that had encompassed Sara’s initial attempt at divine communion. The implication that the gods were in trouble might have caused her to gasp if she could even find the fear that she should be feeling. So powerful was Serenity’s calming aura that she might have just been told that nothing had been wrong at all. But Sara couldn’t afford to lose herself in her calm, as that was the mistake that her detractors at the monastery seemed to be making. She wondered to herself, Why is she telling me this?

As if sensing this inquiry, the goddess would add, “For you see, my daughter has once again escaped our world to haunt yours once more. 

This time, Sara was unable to quell her gasp. Serenity could only be talking about Maula, the Goddess of Death. Recollections of her history came quickly to Sara, for every deity was the subject of an acolyte’s studies. Born to Serenity and Chaos, the God of War, Maula was a potential heir of Fadal. The last time she descended upon the world of Comalan was over two-hundred years ago, when it was said that Maula had rebelled against the elder gods by crushing the land of Resta under a wave of death, hence her moniker as the Goddess of Death. 

A majority of the population had suffered Maula’s wrath and all would have been lost if not for four legendary champions. Nicholai Desmond, the chosen champion of Chaos, joined forces with Helen Winstrom, the champion of Serenity. They were later joined by Artix Maloran, then the crown prince of the kingdom and Orion, the queen of the elven nation of Tanis. Together, the four had devised some sort of weapon that had driven Maula back to Fadal, where only deities and the souls of the dead may roam. 

Founded in the wake of a deadly plague that once devastated the lost nations of Necros and Coronos, Resta had seen its fair share of catastrophe but the Wave of Death was the most deadly by far. This fact sealed the legend of the Champions as a central figure in the kingdom’s history. 

If she is truly back, Sara thought to herself, surely she could only have grown more powerful in the last two centuries. Many more people could die this time!

Sensing the terror that had crept into Sara’s heart, Serenity continued soothingly, “It will be alright, Sara. Mortalkind have always surprised us! When the champions who came before banished Maula, they foresaw her return. The left behind their secrets so that others could take up the cause of banishing her once more when they were gone. I beseech you to gather the courage to be one of those who defend mortals for a second time!”

Sara initially relaxed under the belief that a plan was already in place to deal with the looming threat. But to think that she might be a participant brought back the chill in her blood. Could I really continue the work of such strong warriors?

“I once believed that Helen’s grace and determination were without equal, but I have watched over you for seven years. When first you knelt before one of my altars, I sensed something familiar,” Serenity explained in a hasty attempt to mollify the nervous woman. “Not since Helen’s death have I seen such sincere devotion. When you pledged yourself to the Doctrine of Tranquility, despite many urgings to the contrary, I felt certain that I had found what I am looking for, so I nurtured you on your path. I sense a potential equal to Helen in you!”

Sara was torn with conflict. She could not bring herself to believe what she heard about herself, despite her firm conviction that Serenity couldn’t possibly be wrong about her acolytes. To be the equal of someone so brave and strong? Impossible!

Sensing Sara’s unspoken objection, Serenity seemed to laugh. “My dear, when have I ever prized martial strength? Your historians may have made it a point to remember that Helen was a formidable warrior, but that is not what I asked of her, nor will I ask it of you.”

Desperately wishing that Serenity would reconsider, Sara could only reply, “I’m really not so special. It won’t be simple to banish a deity with devotion to you alone!”

“You are not the one who will banish her,” the goddess declared flatly. “What I ask of you instead is to keep the peace. When Maulas designs are set in motion, many will suffer. I would ask that you convince those who remain that we have not forsaken them. You must heal their wounds, ease their burdens, and protect them from despair.”

With Serenity’s desires fully clarified, Sara began to feel better about what was being asked of her. To fight on Serenity’s behalf was something best asked of a templar, but healing the hearts and bodies of those in need was something she had actually trained for. This left just one obvious question. If I am not to banish Lady Maula, who is?

“You will be aided in your quest by others chosen by my family,” Serenity explained matter-of-factly. “Two of them are close, but you may not see the last for some time.”

This changes things, Sara thought immediately upon hearing this response. Although reconnecting with her sisters and brothers in the faith to share this new information remained vital, it was clear that she had to find the other two champions in town before she left. 

“Thank you, my lady,” she said with a smile to herself. “I think I know what must be done now.”

With that, the heavy sensation of tranquility that followed her trance had begun to dissipate following Serenity’s final reply, “Trust me, trust your comrades, and trust yourself.”

Sara then found herself alone once more, uncomfortably aware of the early evening chill that hung over the hills. She stood up once more, shaking the numbness out of her legs. She had planned to return to her room at the inn much sooner, but had lost track of the time. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet with some difficulty due to her left leg, which had fallen asleep after remaining stationary for so long. Between the numbness in her foot, and a sudden gust of wind which nearly lifted her of the ground, she would stumble on her descent from the hill and tumble all the way to the bottom. 

As she lay there on the ground with a throbbing pain in every part of her body that could feel pain, she cursed her own luck. The first steps of my journey, she thought sourly before she passed out, inwardly thankful that there had been nothing on the hill for her body to hit besides tall grass.

Further into the foothills, a tall man with short red hair and a young woman with braided raven-colored hair had noticed Sara’s fall and rushed to help.

Death Touch Chapter 35 (But Better)

Introducing Chapter 35 of Death Touch, now with a better ending in which the point of view character actually does stuff! The original version will remain up for posterity, but it's no longer canon.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Mia

Frustration pounded in Mia’s head as she felt herself awaken at the sound of someone brushing through foliage. She rolled groggily onto her back as she tried to make sense of her position. She saw that the sun was low on the horizon and cursed herself for her mistake. Then she cursed Sara with double the anger for falling for her own tricks. A whole day, lost!

The rustling among the flowers grew louder, stirring her ever closer to full alertness. She turned to see what appeared to be five large men with thick coal black skin towering above her. Seeing the three horns and spiked tail were enough for the assassin to identify these creatures according to Sara’s prior description. Maulans!

Her drowsiness quickly forgotten, Mia willed herself to her feet as quickly as her momentarily numb body would allow her and looked around wildly for her unlikely companion. Sara didn’t seem to be in the vicinity. In fact, Mia didn’t appear to be anywhere close to the pond that had been nearby when she fell asleep. She staggered backwards while considering running. She should have whipped out her gun and started firing into their necks-- the creature’s only known weak point. But while caught in the grip of this valley’s pacifying magic, fighting back didn’t even occur to her.

Mia watched as the maulans flicked their tails dangerously, daring her to stand still so they could strike. She felt helpless as she began to back away more quickly. The maulans should have been rendered harmless by the fey as well, but it was starting to look like they weren’t even affected at all. Run, damn it! 

Mia finally shocked herself into turning around and running more quickly than she ever had before, realizing as she did just how unusual it was for her to be running away from something. She had only done so for the first time in years a few short days ago when she had to escape from her cell in Beldor. But this was the first time she felt genuinely terrified. Spellwarriors chasing her through open streets could never have hoped to catch her, but this was much different. The flowers in her way slowed her down, but the creatures who pursued her streaked rather quickly through the field by following in her wake. I’m not fast enough!

She was at a loss. They were close to catching up and didn’t appear to be tiring in the slightest. She was alone and unable to fight back. Her only hope was to clear Flora Field and make her stand outside the confines of this damnable pacification. But there was no telling how far she would have to run. She dared not look up to figure out which way she was going, fearful of slowing down or--

She then tripped over an exposed root to one of the field’s larger, tree-like flowers. She cursed as she scrambled to her feet in a panic, but the chase was over before she could begin to run again. They were already whipping their tails at her. Years of evasion practice was all that protected her now. Or so it seemed.

Mia’s heart felt like it was about to explode as her panic reached a fever pitch. But just then, a strong gust began to sweep the surrounding plant-life away. The ensuing wind caused the maulan’s tails to flail around slightly, causing their tail jabs to miss even more wildly than before. Although, a more logical Mia would have recognized this as a sign of good luck, the gust only intensified her alarm. What the hell now?

As the wind intensified with the assassin’s fear, she could see the creatures struggling to maintain their footing. It was at this point that Mia realized what was happening to her. More storm magic that she’d have to learn to control.

Mia began to laugh as the first of the maulans was pulled toward the tornado small that now circled the ground before her. “I should find myself a phobia!”

Soon, all five of the creatures were drawn into the vortex, but curiously the champion was unaffected by the wind. This didn’t make her completely safe, however, as she learned when they began to whip their tails out at her as she passed. These bastards are persistent!

Mia watched her pursuers as her apparent magic tossed them around for several minutes. She might have used this time to plan her next move if she weren’t taking so much satisfaction in the spectacle before her. Unfortunately, her returning calm began to slow down the wind. She was close to running again when something else she didn’t expect happened. Clusters of thorned roots exploded from the ground and began to ensnare the maulans. All 20 limbs, 15 horns and 5 torsos and tails were bound in stems. Okay, why not?

“I must not have made myself clear the last time!” A familiar voice called out from behind.

Mia turned to see Millie the fey spellwarrior, stomping up to the cluster of wrapped maulans with a livid expression.

“I told at least two of you that maulans are not welcome here!” She raged as she held her hands up in what Mia assumed was some sort of spellweaving gesture. “This is supposed to be a safe space of communion for mortals and fey, but your kind never follow the fucking rules!”

Mia finally found herself starting to like the floral sprite as she walked right up to the struggling beasts. With a swipe of her arm, all five of the maulans instantly disappeared and the roots that held them began to sink back into the ground. Mia whistled as the spellwarrior turned back to her with a smirk.

“What did you do?”

Millie smiled and glanced somewhere to the east. “A quick targeted translocation. They won’t be back for a loooong time!”

“Where are they?” Mia asked, duly impressed with what she was hearing.

“On the ocean floor, hundreds of miles away from our coast.”

Mia snickered and shook her head. “Well, thanks for the assist and… uh…” She began to survey the carnage that had stricken the plants around them. “Sorry for the tornado. I didn’t know I could do that.”

Millie gave the champion an appraising look and chuckled. “Really? An instinctive user of storm magic sounds very uncommon. In fact, since I don’t know anybody who’s heard of one, I’d even be willing to call you unique."

Mia shrugged and nodded awkwardly. “Well, for some reason, Salica thinks I need to be able to do that. She’s shown a lot more faith in me than I deserve.”

“Interesting!” the spellwarrior chirped with an inquisitive stare. “You know, Hem Academy put out the word that we were all to assist some people favored by the Gods as champions. My plan was to put the safety of my home first, but if you’re to be believed, I may have followed that order by accident!”

Mia shook her head impatiently. “This is too weird for me. Two days ago, I was no friend to any spellwarrior, but now you people are all over my business!”

Millie shook her head and chuckled. “Actually, two days ago, you were still asleep.”

“What?!” Mia barked suddenly. “How long have I been out?”

“Almost a week,” the spellwarrior said with a shrug.

“A week?!” Mia screeched in renewed alarm. “If you knew, why didn’t you try to wake us up?”

“Should I have?” the spellwarrior asked indifferently. “Lots of people meet with members of the Serene clergy to have themselves put to sleep here. For all I knew you were both suffering from nightmare-induced insomnia!”

“Wait! What about my--” the next word got stuck in her throat for a moment. “--friend?”

“The woman who put you to sleep carried her out of the valley, somewhere to the north.”

“And you didn’t think that there was anything wrong with two women you knew were looking for one of Maula’s cronies being knocked out and separated?”

“Yeah, I might have been a little distracted in my duties,” Millie replied with a frown. “I may as well redeem myself by helping you find your friend, since I’m supposed to be protecting you anyway.”

Just like that, Mia started to dislike Millie again.

“If you know which way they might have gone, just tell me,” the champion grumbled. “If they’re outside this field, there’s absolutely no reason I can’t save her on my own.”

Millie shook her head. “Unfortunately, I don’t. Unless you have some experience in tracking, you’re going to need my help and I’m happy to give it!”

Mia sighed and growled, “Fine, but you’d better not be wasting my time!”

“I’m hurt!” Millie whined. “I haven’t given you no reason to suspect I’m not good at my job, have I? How was I know that I’d need to protect anyone from a mortal here?”

Mia glared at the spellwarrior. “Save the excuses! I’m not really in the mood! If you want to help, now would be a good time to get started!”

“Oh fine!” the sprite said as she reached into the cleavage of her dress. 

Moments later, she withdrew one of those tiny, curved cones that Mia recalled were used by spellwarriors to summon their mounts. She blew into the narrow end, but no sound came out. Mia watched as flowers in the distance began to rustle.

“C’mere, Vinca!”

In response, a large wolf with a beautiful mane of white hair flecked with green bounded gracefully into the clearing that Mia had made. The beast seemed to float as she galloped to the spellwarrior and began to nuzzle her affectionately.

“Come on, girl!” Millie said, giggling madly. “I just saw you a few minutes ago! Stop!”

Mia watched impatiently as she struggled to get the enthusiastic wolf under control. When she was finally atop Vinca’s back, she offered a hand to the champion. Mia swallowed her chagrin and climbed aboard and took a seat behind the spellwarrior.

“Hang on!” Millie shouted excitedly.

With the help of the spellwarrior’s lupine companion, it only took an hour to find where Sara had been dragged: a small cavern that Millie had referred to as Resbroka Grotto. Mia felt a surge of excitement as the predatory urges that she had become so used to returned to her. Together, she and Millie dismounted and were just about to enter the cave when a boy approached them from behind and called out to then.

“Sen na sai crana eka grag Maula,” he said with a smile.

Mia narrowed her eyes as she studied the boy who had come to follow her. He appeared to be a teenager--maybe two years younger than her--whose skin was brown and completely hairless and who was dressed only in white cotton shorts that were impossibly clean for all the dirt that surrounded them. He seemed to be marked from head to toe with white tattoos that Mia could surmise were druidic patterns thanks to the expertise of Camellia, one of her fellow compatriots in the Scarlet Starlings. Yes, yes, they’re druidic! No need to go thinking about old memories now!

“I don’t know ancient, kid!” the champion called back. “Can you even speak with real people?”

The boy shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry! I have been speaking the old language for so long that it’s become second nature! I don’t even realize I am doing it sometimes!”

“What do you want?” Mia snapped. “We’re kind of in the middle of something!”

“I only mean to warn you that a servant of Lady Maula is hiding within this cave!” the boy said with a cringe. “It falls to me to confront her, but I must urge you to leave this place for your own safety.”

“I know about the witch,” Mia growled impatiently. “I’m actually here for her, so if you want me to leave, you’d better be prepared to make me.”

“I cannot stop you if you wish to rush into such danger, but please at least stay behind me,” the boy said as he began to walk into the cave.

Millie and Mia shared a look of confusion before jogging to catch up with the boy, who seemed to stride into the relative darkness with a sense of purpose.

“Wait a minute!” Mia hissed. “What does this have to do with you?”

The boy stopped in his tracks and bowed slightly. “I have been chosen by Lord Kerun to help stop his sister and her servants from destroying this land.”

Mia smacked her forehead impatiently with her palm. “Another champion? Who the hell are you?”

Recognition seemed to flood the boy’s face. “I see! You must have been chosen by one of the other gods! Let’s see… I think I feel Lady Salica’s solidarity in you!”

“How perceptive,” Mia grumbled. “How about you answer my question instead of your own?”

“I am called Kevin,” the newfound champion said with a friendly smile.

“Kevin what?”

“Oh, I have no family name,” Kevin said with a shake of his head. “The druidic commune that found me as a baby didn’t see any need to give me one.”

“Kevin’s a pretty funny name for a druid,” Millie said as she conjured a ball of light to illuminate their way forward.

“My name is all I have left of my family,” Kevin said with a shrug.

“Well, Kevin the druid, it’s nice to meet you!” Millie said with a friendly smile.

Who the fuck has time for this? “Yeah, yeah, let’s get acquainted later! I’m trying to rescue someone!”

Kevin nodded and strolled deeper into the cave silently. He seemed to be an awkward kid, not that Mia came to think of it. He didn’t seem to care that anyone else was there. He appeared to be concerned with his mission and little else. Without any engagement from Millie or Mia, he seemed perfectly content to focus on his objective. It’s nice to have such an efficient ally for a change! As they watched the boy walk from behind, Millie leaned in to whisper to Mia.

“Hey! Do you want to hear something cool about that boy’s ink?”

Mia didn’t bother to speak, but looked at her with her eyebrows raised. 

“Those tattoos are like welcoming messages to me and other fey,” Millie said with a grin. “I think he’s made a contract with the elder of some fey village.”

“Oh, then it’ll probably look pretty when he decides to make himself useful,” Mia grumbled.

Just then, Kevin disappeared around a corner that Mia had nearly missed in the semidarkness. As she turned to follow, she found what she was looking for. The oni priestess who had put her in her current predicament stood near a brazier positioned under cave paintings Mia didn’t care to do more than glance at. She leered over Sara’s prone form, muttering to herself as she waved her hand over the other champion. When she saw the three people who invaded her dank sanctum, she stood up and regarded them with a cruel smile.

“Well! I was planning to come back for you once I finished with this one. Thank you for saving me the trouble of carrying you,” she said with a smile that looked innocent, but reeked of intent that was anything but.

Millie, who had been staring at Sara, asked, “What are you doing to her?”

“There is great power in the soul of one who is favored by the gods,” the witch said with a roll of her eyes. “This is something that appeals to me. Feel free to use your imagination.”

“No need!” Mia growled threateningly. “It’s going to stop now if you’re interested in keeping the same amount of blood in your body!”

Adaling laughed mirthlessly as she gave Mia a lazy wave of her hand. “The Death Goddess dubs thee… Rego! Wargo! Lugo!”

The witch’s incantation caused three burly maulans to appear in the narrow space between herself and her foes, causing Mia to click her tongue impatiently. She was in a position to fight back this time, but she wasn’t left with nearly enough space to move around. Avoiding their tails would be a problem. She had to think about how to work around this, but she didn’t have long to consider her strategy before Kevin stepped forward and began to approach the maulans. He did so casually, seemingly without any fear of their tails. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Mia shouted in disbelief.

Kevin made no effort to dodge the maulans’ tail strikes, which in turn failed to even penetrate his skin. He only continued his apparently pleasant stroll until he was close to touch the creatures. When he pressed his palm to the torso of the first, the creature screamed in agony as his body began to dissolve as if affected by his own poison. Kevin repeated whatever he had done twice more, leaving Adaling alone with her prisoner once more. With a snarl, she whipped her arm across the room, causing a cold feeling to come over Mia and everyone else in the room.

“I’m not sure what the hell that was, but it looks like you’re outmatched here,” the assassin said with a smirk as she tried to get closer to the witch, only to be stopped in her tracks by Millie.

“Wait! Don’t move!” Millie shouted urgently as she pointed to the ground beneath them.

Mia followed the spellwarrior’s gaze down to her feet, between which a black stalactite seemed to be protruding. She nudged the spike with her foot, which seemed to cause it to grow slightly. 

“If you don’t hold absolutely still, that thing is going to keep growing from your own shadow until it impales you,” Millie said breathlessly. “I hate this spell! It’s so evil!”

Kevin continued to stare Adaling down for a moment longer before opening his mouth. From it, a dozen tiny winged creatures with white fur swarmed out toward the witch. With a hiss of frustration, Adaling floored the majority of them with a spell which conjured a sickle of black light that Mia might have remembered seeing Seth use in one of his RGT matches. Only one of these new creatures remained flying after this assault and, considering the way it began to bob through the air, it didn’t seem unharmed. The creature retreated to Kevin, who opened his mouth and swallowed it once more. Once he did so, the druidic markings that covered his entire body changed from white to black. 

“Those were eversprites!” Millie whispered excitedly to Mia. “Oh my gods! He’s a feykin!”

As Kevin began to walk once more, a spike began to grow from his shadow as well. But he seemed unconcerned as it grew and grew until it should have skewered him. Instead of harming him, the shadow began to phase harmlessly through his body.

“Thanks to those eversprites he conjured, he’s immune to her shadow magic!” Millie added to Mia’s slight irritation.

“Okay, what’s a feykin?” Mia grumbled, more out of frustration with finding herself helpless again than genuine curiosity. 

“Feykin are mortals who have formed a connection with the fey,” Millie explained while Adaling lashed out with her shadow claw spell. “That means he can use our powers! His hands pulse with the light of a kerunite’s eyes, which explained what happens to the maulans! Hell! I bet he can spit lava like a magmadon or even inflict maulan venom with his touch!”

“Eversprite magic won’t protect you from this!” Adaling hissed! “Amul dala!”

Black flames suddenly erupted from Kevin’s shorts, causing him to jump in alarm, howling in pain.

“He’s going to need our help! How do we get out of this spell?” Mia snapped curtly. 

“There is no escape!” Millie wailed. “We have to wait for the spell to wear off or for the caster to voluntarily remove it!”

Mia was already beginning to feel stiff. “Screw that!” She could feel the insidious spike inching further upward beneath her as she pulled the pistol from her holster and took aim at the witch.

Millie gasped as soon as she saw the weapon. “You can’t! There’s someone innocent in there!”

Millie rolled her eyes as she loaded an unusual round into the weapon. Sometimes, the work of a Starling needed to be public when the target preferred to stick to places that were anything but. When those times came, they had thin glass-tipped bullets filled with a sleeping potion that could be administered when their saturated shards cut into the target’s skin. They were used rarely as assassin tools, but now that she was giving a less deadly lifestyle a try, she would have cause to fire a lot more of these sleep rounds.

“Like I care,” she grumbled as she squeezed in the trigger.

Even in the dimly-lit environment, the Starling’s aim was true. The bullet struck her prey cleanly in the chest, where Mia suspected that the potion would be quickly dispersed. Within moments, Adaling began to falter and her grip on Sara loosened. Millie would then breathe a sigh of relief as the dangerous magic that had rooted them to the spot vanished. The spellwarrior turned toward Kevin and waved the flames that assailed him away with a wave of her hand and an accompanying gust of wind.

“Thank you,” the young druid murmured. “I didn’t count on there being fire. I’ve never been good at handling that.”

Mia ignored the two of them as she went to go check on Sara. She still appeared to be asleep, but didn’t respond to the Starling’s attempts to revive her. When Kevin was reasonably certain that he wasn’t badly burned, he joined Mia at her side and smiled. 

“What was done by the mother can easily be undone by the father. Invigorate!”

Sara suddenly sat bolt upright and looked around in bewilderment. When her eyes found Mia’s, she mumbled. “Where happened?”

“I hope at least one of you knows!” Another voice boomed from behind them.

Mia looked up to see the spellwarrior that she had first seen in the RGT approaching them from behind. Seth Midas looked impatient, and for good reason. A week of waiting for her and Sara can’t have been good for the nerves of the rest of the group.

“This woman is apparently s servant of Maula,” Mia murmured. “She had us knocked out with some Serene magic this whole time. We had to track her down to this spot because she was trying to steal her soul or something.”

Seth studied the woman’s features and groaned. “Shit.”

The others snapped their gazes toward Seth. “What?” Sara said.

“This is Adamora. She’s my second-cousin,” Seth explained darkly. “I ran into another second-cousin very recently who seemed to serve Maula in the same way. Clint says they were guarding Orion’s artifacts.”

The spellwarrior coated his hands in a black light similar to the shadow magic Mia had recently just escaped before driving his hands into the sleeping witch’s chest. Moments later, he pulled out a thick, black, spiked chain that had apparently been resting within her. 

“This is the last piece,” he said solemnly as he seemed to study his relative.

“By the gods!” Sara gulped. “That… was a thing that happened!”

“This is what we were looking for, right?” Mia said eagerly. “This means we’re nearly done!”

Mia hadn’t invested nearly as much time in this quest as Seth or Sara had, but she was eager to be done with it nonetheless. At this point, she was far more interested in eradicating the Scarlet Starlings than participating in some divine whatever-this-was, but she felt compelled to keep the promise she had made to Sara. Therefore, she was more than eager to see this ultimate weapon’s completion. The sooner this ends, the better!

Next Chapter

Why I Hate You

The following is a poem found in the diary of Karen Blackstone, the Queen of Resta during the Geosian Regime. In it, she writes about the intense hatred she holds for her father, and why he ultimately failed to stop her from going down the path she chose

You're great, or so they say!
You've triumphed over weakness, that's what you say!
I'm safe, or so you think!
But you could never save me, that's what I think!
It hurts, the way I feel!
These scars of your past failure is what I feel!

O, Champion of Chaos!
The greatest of the great!

The pinnacle of victory, or so they say!
But my life is a testament to your weakness, I think!
There is no amount of regret that you can feel
That would change what I feel.
You're not as perfect as you think
And your god isn't as perfect as you say.

What you say when your own daughter is endangered is despicable!
What I think when I'm carried from the dark is terrible!
What they feel when your wrath comes for them is horrible!
But you're essentially good, or so they say!

They say I'm lucky to have kept my sight.
You think I'm lucky to have kept my life.
I feel that I'm lucky to have kept my hands.
Because there is better work beyond me, I think!

A curse upon you if you say I'm alright!
You'll lose the day if you think I won't fight!
Change will come can you feel your last night!
Two fathers shall fall is what I feel!

O Champion of Chaos!
Servant of the one who shares your fate!

Death Touch Chapter 31 Redux

As I work to put together Death Touch's final draft, a major problem has jumped out at me: nearly all of the heavy lifting in the champions' quest was done by Seth and Clint. While Mia has been up to plenty, it bothers me that Sara's only major triumph was to win Mia to her side-- only for to proceed to nothing critical to the plot from that point on. So, a few chapters have to be partially written to give Sara and Mia more to do. The first step is to make Mia a little more helpful in obtaining Helen's spear. You can read the original version of this chapter here. 

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Seth

Seth panted heavily as he pushed aside the flap to the festival’s medical tent. Clint followed him in uncharacteristic silence. Sam had been rushed there immediately as soon as she collapsed, the rest of their fight be damned. Everyone in the RGT had been restricted to nonlethal weapons, but even that couldn’t negate the risk of two quick people colliding at top speed, especially when one of those nonlethal weapons hits you cleanly in the chest. This could have spelled the end of Team Salamander’s hopes of winning the tournament, depending on how well the healers did their job.

When the two champions found Sam, their worst fears were confirmed. She was still firmly unconscious. The healer who was tending to her had even worse news for them.

“She was brought in with a collapsed lung and went several minutes without being able to breathe. I’ve managed to repair the damage, but she’s in no condition for the final. I’m sorry!”

As the woman walked away, Seth slapped his face and grumbled, “This is just perfect! Team Moon has wiped the floor with everyone they’ve dealt with so far and now we’re going up against them one person short!”

Clint sighed and murmured, “Look, I know this is going to make things harder, but winning isn’t going to be impossible!”

“We should have never let her go up against the Gazelle! I knew she was fast, but she’s way too green to go up against someone who’s just as quick! We just threw away the only advantage she had for nothing!”

“This isn’t the time for self-blame and what-ifs! What matters is that we won and what we need to do to make sure we win again!”

Seth shook his head and sighed. “You sure we can do that against a team like Moon when they outnumber us?”

Clint nodded grimly and murmured. “We can and we must. I’m sure you can imagine what will happen if we lose, so we can’t let that happen. No matter what.”

“So, things have gotten harder and we’re supposed to deal with it. Sounds about right,” Seth said grumpily as he turned his back on Sam. “I swear, if we somehow pull this off, we’re going to be even bigger legends than Nicholai ever was.”

Clint beckoned for Seth to follow as he began to leave the tent. “You never know. We have gods rooting for us, so I doubt they’re going to let us fail.”

The members of Team Salamander would find their companions waiting for them outside. While both Maya and their new comrade Mia looked unconcerned, Sara’s face was a mask of anxiety.

“How is she? Are you guys going to make it through the final?” The acolyte asked urgently

Seth shook his head. “Sam’s not going to be fighting again anytime soon. We’re going to have to figure it out without her.”

“Not necessarily!” Maya chimed in. “I noticed that Team Gecko used an alternate earlier when their leader was injured!”

“We don’t have a registered alternate,” Seth said with a sigh. “Even if we found someone to take her place now, it’s too late for her to be entered into the rolls.”

“We just met someone who might be willing to fuck the rules on our behalf,” Mia said boredly. “I know you guys need to win this tournament to get through this quest you’ve dragged me into. I may as well make myself useful.”

In his anxiety, Seth completely forgot to ask Maya about Team Moon. He recalled having met the three sisters through their uncle, Professor Marzett. But instead of getting tips from their cousin, both he and Clint had spent the remaining time they had to prepare wringing their hands about Mia’s solution. Thankfully, she returned just minutes before the start of the match, announcing that she’d be fighting with them. While it was a relief that Team Salamander wouldn’t be going into the final match one member short, it was a source of some worry that they were about to face the first opponents in all of their previous attempts at the tournament who they knew next to nothing about.

Anxiety seemed to set in for both Seth and Clint as they entered the pit once more to emphatic introductions from the announcers and thunderous applause.

“Team Salamander has clearly come to win this year!” Mark Winstrom shouted as they stared at the black hemisphere where their opponents were set to appear. “Ever the crowd-favorites, Midas and Blackstone’s journey to the top has certainly been a strange one this year, but they’ve climbed further than ever before! Today will answer a question that I am sure is in everyone’s minds right now--”

“Is this Team Salamander’s year or will they have to wait another year for the Royal Boon?” Marla Harret chimed in. “They’re going to have a tough fight with their third member lying in the infirmary. Fortunately, they were lucky enough to wrangle an alternate this year! Everybody, please welcome the Storm Blade, Amelia Gold!”

“Team Salamander remains in top form, but now it’s time to meet their opponents!” Mark shouted excitedly. “They are fresh faces in the RGT, but they have captivated us all with their stylish tactics! Not one of their matches has gone longer than three minutes yet! It’s Team Moon!”

Three women walked out onto the opposite side of the arena, brandishing identical smouldering smirks. They were not triplets, but their familial resemblance was clearly strong. One held a crossbow and a belt of blunted bolts, another seemed to be unarmed; presumably a caster. In the center of the trio was a woman garbed in the armor of a peacekeeper and brandishing a strangely glinting rapier.

“First up is the silent shooter, Celine. She is joined by the rain witch Chloe and the spell cutter Cierra!” Maria informed everyone. “This team seems like a perfect match against Team Salamander, making this a battle of efficiency versus sheer will!”

“Both teams are intensely focused on the other, and Her Highness has graced us with her presence!” Mark exclaimed passionately. “From the RGT Committee, we welcome you back, Queen Penelope!”

Both teams, and probably everyone else in the tent, turned their attention to the dais where the commentator’s podium was located. The Queen of Resta had taken her customary seat behind the podium. Mark held out his microphone to her with an overly courteous bow. She took it with a regal smile and held it up to their face.

“People of Resta, I apologize for my long, but necessary absence! This year’s tournament coincides with divine omens, both dark and hopeful. As we bear witness to this final match together, hold this question close to your hearts: are we here to witness history, or tragedy?”

She seemed to be looking at Seth and Clint as she spoke. You just watch, your highness! This is our year! It has to be!

“With that said, let the final RGT match begin!” The queen said before returning the microphone to Mark.

Cierra was the first to move. Without missing a beat, she thrust her rapier toward Seth. This took him by surprise, but he was able to parry the strike at the last moment. It wasn’t a flawless counter, thus the other spellwarrior was able to strike again before he could retaliate. This time, he sidestepped her attack with a gasp. Meanwhile, Clint and Mia had already split up to go after their other opponents.

“Focus on the mage!” Clint had shouted. “She’s the most dangerous one here!”

Besides me, Seth thought as he erected another barrier of black fire to give himself some breathing room. Unfortunately, Cierra’s rapier cleaved through his wall as if it were made of paper. His flames extinguished, Seth looked on in shock as she walked casually closer.

“Midas’ Black Flame Wall is shredded!” Mark roared to the audience’s approval. “That’s the power of Cierra Moon’s signature weapon, Nexus’ End!”

“That sword is a relic of the Wave of Death, when Maula walked on Comalan,” Marla explained. “Cierra has personally told me that the metal used to forge it was smelted on the petrified skin of Maula’s own servants.”

“True or not, we’ve seen this sword cut through countless spells in this tournament!” Mark said with an excited grin. “Midas is going to have a hard time gaining the upper hand with his magic!”

I’ve been marked!

“Ouch! That looked painful, but Blackstone remains standing!” Maria suddenly shouted.

Seth chanced a glance in the direction in which Clint had run. He had just pulled himself to his feet after being knocked down by one of Chloe’s spells. He barely managed to dodge another thrust when the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Celine Moon is down! She has been quick on the draw in this tournament so far, but Gold was quicker! This is now a two on three battle!”

Seth didn’t dare to look this time, but shouted, “Nice one!”

“Celine wasn’t going to be the one to win this for us anyway!” Cierra shouted as thrust yet again. This time, her sword struck his shoulder.

Pain jolted through Seth as he staggered back and Mark shouted, “Team Moon may be down a member, but those who remain are putting plenty of pressure on Team Salamander with a clean hit to Midas!”

“If Nexus’ End hadn’t been blunted, that might have pierced him clean through!” Marla observed. “As it is, he’s going to be feeling that for the rest of the match!”

Seth found it annoying in that moment how smart Marla Harret was. The attack had indeed left a throbbing ache in his shoulder. I can’t beat her! He turned to Clint and shouted, “Trade me!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Cierra shouted as she attempted to intercept Seth, only to be blocked by Mia’s quick intervention.

“Be careful!” Seth shouted as he charged toward the mage. Clint, meanwhile turned on the spot and took aim at Cierra.

“Once again, Midas and Blackstone are switching things up! This may be the best choice Team Salamander could possibly have made!” Maria announced with a grin.

“How so?” Mark asked.

“Midas is severely crippled in a fight against Nexus’ End, but as a spellwarrior, he is trained to resist Storm Magic! If Gold and Blackstone can keep Cierra distracted, this match could end in victory for Team Salamander!”

Seth’s charge was suddenly stopped by a sudden gust of wind that Chloe had conjured. Seth cursed as he planted his feet into the ground to wait out the spell. Winds of Terror, he reminded himself. I need to calm down. He remembered that standard storm mages weaponized the emotions they could sense with Salican Empathy and used them to influence the weather. She was quite literally using his own fear against him, which reminded him of Chaos’ lecture. He needed to conquer his fears, but he couldn’t just do so on command. He would need to try to resist the spell itself since he couldn’t stop her from casting it. Fire and disease won’t be effective in this wind!
“Gold is down!” Mark exclaimed.

“That was a crushing defeat,” Maria commented. “According to her registration information, Amelia Gold is a storm mage, but for some reason, we haven’t seen a single spell from her!”

"Not that it would have made a difference against the spellcutter! This match is looking a lot more even!" Mark called out.

Seth could hear a flurry of gunshots.

“Without Gold to watch out for, Blackstone is unloading on Cierra!” Mark pointed out then added, “This is still either team’s match!”

Seth gritted his teeth upon hearing that. Clint was not going to be able to hold off the other spellwarrior for long. The next team to get the upper hand was essentially guaranteed to win, and if he didn’t do something quickly, that team would not be his. What he needed was a spell with actual weight if he was going to overpower Chloe’s gusts.

“Kayan braka!” he roared as he flung his arm out toward his opponent with as much force as he could muster. This caused a meteor-like object to appear in the sky and fall into the storm mage.

Chloe fell to her back, but Seth cringed when he heard, “It’s a double knockout! Chloe Moon and Blackstone are both down!”

“Damn it!” Seth hissed while quickly rounding to where he had last seen Cierra. She stood over Clint, who was sitting on the ground, clutching his right arm with a look of pure agony. Must be broken.
Without any further recourse, he charged toward the other spellwarrior in the hope that he could gain the upper hand this time if he was quicker to attack. He needed to end this fight with pure sword skill, but he wasn’t feeling confident. He had never specialized in magic or martial arts during his years at Hem Academy, so he couldn’t consider himself a master of either. He managed to keep her from attacking him again with his quick attacks, but he was far from mounting an offense. What was worse, his shoulder injury was slowing down his attacks.

“This final RGT match seems to be coming down to a classic sword fight! Everyone, give it up for these incredible warriors! Chaos smiles upon us today!”

Chaos’ voice seemed to thunder in his head at that moment. “Do NOT fear your power!”

Seth ignored the voice and continued fencing with Cierra. I’m doing my best!

Another voice, one which was hauntingly familiar, whispered into his mind. “Are you, though? You could end this voice in a single touch!”

“Shut up!” Seth shouted in frustration, but he quickly paid for his distraction as Cierra disarmed him with a blindingly quick riposte.

“No,” Seth groaned as he watched his sword tumble through the air.

Ordinarily, being disarmed would be no problem for Seth, but he couldn’t rely on his magic either. For all intents and purposes, he was defeated. But he couldn’t afford to be. The same dark sensation he had gone into his coma with returned, making his skin feel clammy. Just a touch and this will be over.


He scanned the tent as Cierra looked on with a triumphant smirk. This match was too important to lose, but her guard seemed to be down. She’d never see it coming! But somewhere in the audience, he saw two people he never expected to see together sitting near Sara. Maya was talking inaudibly to a woman who could only be Ruby Midas, his mother. The sudden absurdity of this sight brought him back to reality.

“Pyris amul groz!” Seth said as he flung a star of black fire at his opponent.

Cierra blocked the spell with her sword, but from the look on her face, Seth could tell that she had barely managed to do so. So Seth found a way around his anti-magical problem. He cast the spell again, then again; quicker and quicker without pause. She swung her blade wildly to defend herself, but Seth kept up the pressure. She can’t stop them all!

“In a fit of desperation, Midas has begun unleashing spell after spell!” Mark announced. “But one by one, each attack is falling before the enchanting power of Nexus’ End! He’ll tire himself out eventually!”

“Not necessarily,” Marla said, a little more excitedly. “He seems to be casting Black Flame Star, an obscure spellwarrior technique that’s known for having an extremely low inertial propulsion variable! What this means is that this spell is considered physically light, so he’s trading less energy for more power! This could still go either way!”

You’re damned right! Seth continued to pepper her opponent with fiery projectiles. Soon, they were moving so quickly that they began to resemble a black blur. Cierra continued to parry them all as quickly as she could until..

“Direct hit! And Cierra is on fire! This could be Midas’ chance!”

Seth took advantage of his opponents distraction to reclaim his sword and swing it in her direction with a roar of uncontained fury. In response to his ferocity, an arc of black energy flew toward Cierra, who raised her sword to block this spell. However, the shadow claw passed directly through her weapon and collided hard with her chest. As Cierra crumbled to the ground, the cheers of the crowd grew deafening and his euphoria grew overwhelming.

“Cierra Moon is down! Team Salamander wins the Resta Grand Tournament!” Mark squawked in apparent disbelief. “Praise be to Chaos and our new champions!”

Next Chapter

The Stone Dragon

"Blackstone!"

Karen sighed as the The Bear's shout rippled through the grounds of the monastery that shared her new name. Her husband grinned sheepishly at the call and shook his head. Karen wasn't supposed to be there, no matter who their parents were, but they were always like that. Whenever one of them had an especially interesting idea, they would find the other and begin a spirited discussion about it. The templars were used to this by now, so much so that they had begun to ignore Karen's presence in the Monastery. But Matilda Maloran had never been one to cede an inch on anything. Karen slunk away as Bart turned to face the commander.

"How many times must you be told the rules of this place?" the templar growled impatiently.

"That's a trick question," Bart replied with a stoic expression. "No matter how many times I am lectured about receiving guests, it's Karen's disregard for the rules that leads her here, not me."

"She is not the one who will pay the price if I see her here again!" Matilda snapped. "You will never be anointed as a member of this order if you cannot respect our ways!"

"My respect or lack thereof is irrelevant," Bart said calmly. "Karen does whatever she wants. That can make things difficult for her family, but it's part of what I love about her."

Matilda sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead. "Well, you had better have a talk with her if you don't want her impulsiveness to affect your future!"

"That is duly noted," Bart replied with a courteous nod. "I will have a talk with her the next time I go home."

The templar lowered her hand and nodded. "See that you do. At any rate, I have not come to lecture you! I am here to tell you that your mother is here to see you. She's waiting in the garden."

"Thank you, ma'am," Bart said blankly, making a stark effort to avoid showing any emotion. "I will see you on the training ground afterward."

Matilda nodded approvingly and left Bart to respond to his mother's summons. It was with a deep breath that he approached Sara Blackstone, who was sitting cross-legged next to a pond. There was never a figure in his life that aroused more guilt in him than the Champion of Serenity. His convictions always seemed to fail him where his mother was concerned. She seemed to sense his sharp intake of breath just then, because she immediately opened her eyes.

"Good morning, Bartholomew!" Sara said warmly. "How are you and your new wife?"

"We're getting along," Bart said as he sat down next to the Champion. "Married life can be complex between people who are so different. But what we share in common is the subject of much admiration on both of our parts."

"Would one of those things you share be the contrary opinions you enjoy sharing with the elders here?"

Logically speaking, Bart had no reason to be surprised, but his constant rows with the senior members of the Blackstone Order weren't something he was prepared for his mother to know about. He had never once felt in the wrong for asserting that blind faith was reductive and detrimental to social progress. He had learned from Sara that a religious doctrine couldn't possibly be both static and enduring. But where she had argued that her own faith was losing itself to complacency, he had been arguing that all of the religions taught at the Monastery were sacrificing credibility for baseless dogma. He had always been on good terms with his parents, but he knew that only his father could be bothered to see his point of view if so pressed.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Bart said quietly. "Plenty of people I know happen to share those opinions."

Sara sighed and shook her head. "I can't say that I agree with them, but I have always respected your sincerity. You're a good boy, but I have to ask: are you really happy here?"

Bart looked into his mother's eyes with mild disbelief, but she seemed to be searching for nothing but the truth in his own. Knowing that his candor was necessary here, he shook his head in response.

"I thought not," Sara said with a hint of sadness in her expression. "Well, we're still getting visits from representatives from the Greymont Institute. I know your father would love the peace and quiet if you could be convinced to take the Director's Chair in his place."

Bart wasn't particularly fascinated with the offer, but he was so relieved that she gave it despite her obvious disappointment with wanting to leave the Monastery that he didn't even think to refuse.

"I could do a lot more good there than I ever could as a templar," he admitted.

However he felt about the future he had just been presented with, he knew he wasn't wrong.

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."