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 40

Big Milestones!

Welcome to the final chapter of World of Comalan's flagship story, Death Touch! This story began for me in 2007 with a prototype story that ended at only twenty chapters and ended up much shorter than even a quarter of the current version. Death Touch Version 1 is a long way from this story in too many ways to count, but as I began to build more of Comalan's lore, it became important for me to retell this story according to my evolving standards as a writer. This journey began over four years ago with Sara meditating on a hilltop, beneath a special tree and ends tonight with an epic clash between Seth and the Goddess of Death. What could be more appropriate for Comalan's 200th official post! Yes, that was the original point of Death Touch Week (+): to arrange for both of these milestones to be hit at once!

So, what's next? Well, this story is far from complete! Now that I have a complete rough draft, I'll be going back over each chapter individually as I compile the manuscript. As I do so, I'll be making plenty of changes that address any continuity errors, spots where the settings and characters could be described better, gaps in character development, and subtle changes in writing style as a result of the years that have gone into bring this story to its conclusion. I hope to add roughly 20 additional pages of content (if not more) before the story is ready for official publication. I'll be looking seriously into that in the coming months. As for the immediate future, I'll immediately be following up this chapter with a four-part epilogue which will be patreon-exclusive content until the full story is ready to publish. 

The blog, though? Well, I'll be returning to the queue, minus Death Touch! Coming next, I believe, will be another chapter of Phoenix Blade. I also have a new seasonal series of short stories in the works, which is similar to the Confectioner series, written specifically for summer! Aaaaand, once I'm satisfied with how Death Touch turned out, I'll be adding a new story to the queue-- its sequel, Mages of Destiny! For now, enjoy the unofficial conclusion of Death Touch!

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Seth

When the other three champions had left, Seth decided to start with Sam and Millie. What he had to say to Maya, while mostly similar to what he was preparing to say at that moment, somehow felt harder. It could wait. 

“Sam, there’s no easy way to say this, but it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

There was never any chance that Sam would take this news well. There was nothing for him to do in that moment but wait out the inevitable string of protests. He remained patient even as she began to raise her voice. She had nailed nearly every single reason he had to leave her behind; the sheer danger he faced, the potential she stood to waste if she died today, the risk of distraction she posed to the champions were all legitimate concerns that she could acknowledge. She tried to argue how she could still be of help, and that to be involved in such a momentous event would solidify her academic prospects while ending her apprenticeship now would set her back to square one. But all continuing to advocate for herself could accomplish at this point was to test his patience.

“Look. You clearly don’t need to be told all the reasons I can’t let you come with us, but there’s more to it than that!”

Sam looked as if she had been about to open her mouth again, but Seth cut her off.

“I talked to Clint and Sara and they’re in agreement that there’s nothing to be gained from bringing anyone else. I know there are plenty of ways you can help, but there are plenty of more ways that things can go wrong! That’s why we agreed that this should just be between the four of us. Every one of you is an extra body for us to protect and when we wind up against Maula, that’s not going to be easily done.”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Maya interjected in anger. “You know I have the ability to protect all of us before we even get to where we’re going!”

Seth thought he could feel the floor shaking as he responded. “I know you have the Death Ward, but that’s not enough. Your spell lasts for an hour, but the last battle with Maula lasted a whole night. Even if I brought you along just for that reason, you’d have to stay hidden and keep your strength up to keep re-casting it at least five times every hour. Seven if Millie and Sam were to come along.”

“I’m fine with that!” the witch insisted. “Why are you turning away our help?”

“I’m not,” Seth said with a sigh as he finally acknowledged that he was going to have this conversation with Maya as well. “It’s not practical to count on that for the whole fight! What if she realizes what you’re doing and targets you? Even if she can’t kill you right away, there are plenty of other things she can do to you. I don’t want any of that to happen! To any of you!”

“Even me?” Millie said with a look of mock disbelief.

Seth glanced at the floral sprite and sighed. It was just as well that his she was here. He had no clue why, but it offered him an opportunity to nab a satisfaction that had eluded him since their breakup and a way to get rid of Sam.

“Especially not you,” Seth said with an inauthentic smile. “Where would Sam go without her new mentor? There’s no one more valuable to her right now than another spellwarrior who owes me a favor.”

The floral sprite glanced toward the apprentice and smiled. “Oh, you tricky demon! I was hoping you’d forget about that, but I can’t even bring myself to be upset now that you bring it up again!”

“You’re getting off easy,” Seth replied to the other spellwarrior before giving a grin to Sam. “Sam, you’ve already survived your first trip to Lightning Ridge and won the RGT since you started following me around. In my opinion, you’re definitely ready for the Academy. Millie will get you the rest of the way there because she appreciates how good I am at keeping secrets.”

Millie’s eyes widened at this comment and Seth chuckled. “You’ll be a lot safer learning whatever else you need from her. Listen well to her. She’s a better teacher than I’ll ever be.”

The floral sprite sidled up to Sam and threw an arm over her shoulders. “Oh, thanks sweetie! You really know how to twist a girl’s arm like a gentleman!”

“If I had any choice here, I wouldn’t accept this,” Sam muttered as she began to twiddle her thumbs against Clint’s bedpost. “I really want to help you, but it really does look like nothing I say will convince you to let me.”

Seth nodded before looking to Maya once more. “That goes for you too.”

The witch rolled her eyes and said, “And what shall I do? Go back home? Move on to something else? What if you’re fatally wounded and I’m not there to save you? I suppose you think you no longer need me just because you’ll either be dead or free from your curse when this is over, but that’s not true!”

Inwardly thanking Maya for her consistent habit of using her Death Ward spell on herself, Seth walked forward and pulled her into a hug.

“I know it isn’t,” he whispered. “I do need you, but I’m going to need you more when this shadow over my life is gone. I don’t want anything to happen to you before you see what I can be like without this curse.”

Maya softly returned the embrace as another vibration pulsed through the floor. “I’d very much like to see that.”

Seth broke away and held her by the shoulders as he stared intensely into her eyes. “Nobody wants that more than me, so you have to trust me when I say that I’ll have a lot more to worry about if you come with me than you will if you wait for us here.”

Maya nodded impassively and said, “I see your point, but it’s still cruel of you to ask me to do nothing while you are risking your life.”

“I never pretended to be a kind person,” Seth said as he took her hands into his own. “But I’d rather you be safe than helping me right now. Try to be patient with me. I’ll be back.”

“I’m holding you to that,” was her only reply. 

That was the the thing Seth loved about her. She was so easygoing that nothing was complicated with her. She understood him without much effort and showed much more patience with him than he had ever deserved. Maya Marzett was a true saint that he’d have moved mountains to see smile, but rarely needed any motivation to do so. He could have thrown away the whole day to admire her grace, but before he could spare more than a few minutes to do so, the floor began to rock with a sudden thud.

“The hell is going on down there?” Sam shrieked as she visibly jumped from the shock.

Seth picked up the Storm of Mercy and said, grimly, “Maybe the enemy came to us. It hasn’t been long since the others left, so they might need help.”

“Are you going to check this out alone?”

Seth looked to Millie and left her question hanging in the air. He was immediately aware that she wasn’t asking as a friend, but as a spellwarrior. When she puts it that way, that seems like a really stupid idea!

“I guess I’d better not. Let’s go down there and give them hell, one last time!”

Together, Seth and his friends sprinted out of the room and toward the edge of the stairs from which the ground floor could be accessed. Other guests were sticking their heads out of their doors only to retreat at a sharp glare from Seth. Millie, on the other hand, held out the cherrywood badge that identified her as a spellwarrior and gently warned them to stay in their rooms as they passed. When they reached the top step, they began to descend in silence, listening to the sounds that Seth could distinctly identify as bodies being dragged across the floor. Fearing the worst, Seth began to skip his way down the stairs three steps at a time with Millie--whose identical training had brought her to the same conclusion as him--brought up the rear nearly as quickly.

By the time the two spellwarriors had reached the ground floor, it was to see the front door closing to leave them in an empty--and quite nearly demolished-- lobby. What did they do to this place? Shaking off the questions that began to pile up in his mind, Seth darted toward the shattered window nearest the door and peered outside. There he saw dozens of people adorned in dark sneaksuits like the one Mia wore. The assassin in question could be seen in the arms of one of the men, who was loading her into a motorcart. He couldn’t see inside, but clearly recognized Clint’s boot jutting over one of the sides. The others sidled up behind him with concerned looks.

“Damn it all! They got the other three!” Seth hissed angrily. “I should have been down here to help them.”

“Sweetie, there’s no guarantee you wouldn’t be laying in that cart too if you had been,” Millie whispered. “You’ve never been one for a straight up fight. This, right here, is where you’re in your element!”

“Who are they?” Sam asked as she stared at the attire of the men who were beginning to leave with their friends. “Those don’t look like any priestly robes I’ve ever seen!”

“They aren’t acolytes,” Seth said as he stepped back from the window and began to pace the room. “Those were members of the Scarlet Starlings. Trained assassins.”

“That is a lot of them!” said Millie, who was still looking at them through the window. “Do you suppose they’ve mobilized?”

“Like we’d ever know how many there are,” Seth grumbled.

“I don’t get it!” Maya interjected. “If those people are all killers, why are we letting them take our friends?”

Seth sighed and continued to pace while Millie took a stab at answering the question. “The Scarlet Starlings are dangerous. Our order has always had trouble with them and that was with numbers on our side!”

“And now there are at least thirty of them, only four of us, and no offense, but only two of us who wouldn’t be easy prey for them,” Seth said bitterly. “We can’t take on this many out in the open in broad daylight. They would carve us all open like roasted birds.”

“So were supposed to let them get away?” Sam asked incredulously. 

Seth made a movement that was halfway between a nod and a shake of his head, then clicked his teeth impatiently. “For now!”

Millie watched the caravan of triumphant assassins turn a corner and begin to disappear one-by-one. “We need a plan before we lose sight of them.”

Seth looked at his friends hopelessly and sighed. For all he said about why he couldn’t accept their help and for all his faith in the balance of skills that the four champions possessed, he was now very reluctant to move forward on his own. It was his intention for the  champions to end this on their own, but what could he do with the other three firmly in the hands of the enemy? It was hard to admit now, but he needed their help now more than ever. 

“Sam, you’re the only one fast enough to catch up to them who doesn’t also have to lug around this stupidly heavy weapon,” Seth said as he lifted the Storm of Mercy with a grunt for emphasis. “I need you to follow them, but do NOT approach. If this has anything to do with Maula, they’re probably heading to the temple, but if they go anywhere else, I need to know.”

“But you said--”

“You should already be running!” Seth snapped. “You want to help or not?”

“Yes, sir!” she yelped before dashing out the door

Seth turned to Maya and said, “You can help by watching the temple from the sky. Stay out of spell range and don’t stay in one spot for too long. We need to know what’s happening there before we arrive.”

The witch nodded and smiled. “You can count on me!” And with that, she was gone as well. 

Seth turned to Millie and said, “Come on! If they are going to the temple, we can head them off with a shortcut I found the other day.”

So, the two spellwarriors began their run through the streets of Foldo. Their path took them uphill in the direction of the governor’s house. Once the ancient estate began to loom in the distance, Millie stopped running and snapped, “What are we doing? The path to the temple should lead downward!”

“Shut up and keep running!” Seth insisted as their path took them up a winding road. Once they reached the halfway mark, he finally stopped and looked down the mountain way off their elevated road. It was there that the temple could be seen. “I told you this was a short cut!”

“A painful one!”

“Don’t pretend you’re going to be going through this with me instead of skipping your way down with some fey shit!” Seth said with a smirk. 

Before he could turn to look at her, however, she had already assumed her floral shape. As a sunflower, she shot into the ground as if she were quickly receding back into her seed.

 “Like I said!”

 WIth that, he ran off the road and slid for as long as he could maintain his balance. Then, he began to tumble. When he made his final roll at the bottom of the hill, he banged his arm on the ground. His eyes watering in pain, he got back to his feet and began to look for Millie. He found her several feet away, maintaining her flower shape. There isn’t time for these games!

Seth sighed and held up his arm. “A little help?”

The sunflower quivered violently and unleashed a cloud of twinkling green pollen. Seth breathed in as much of this healing pollen as he could and, soon, was able to move his arm normally again. With a sigh, he murmured. “You should get somewhere warmer. This is no place for a sunflower like yourself.”

The floral sprite receded into the ground once more and did not reappear. This has been more than I could have asked of her anyway. In silence, Seth flitted between houses as he circled the temple in an attempt to find the entrance. He would find Sam lurking close to the funeral pyre they had built the day before. 

“You were right about where they were going,” Sam whispered as the spellwarrior took cover with her. He glanced out toward the patrolling assassins and maulans that now littered the grounds. “For a bunch of assassins, they didn’t go to a lot of trouble covering their tracks!”

Seth shook his head sternly as he desperately searched for a hole in the guard he could exploit. “Well, you can’t really take an interest in the three specific people they have without expecting me to follow. They want me in that temple as much as they do, I’m sure.”

“Then why didn’t they go after you at the inn?”

“I don’t think they ever knew for sure where I was when I didn’t turn up with them. They could have turned the whole place over, but I doubt they wanted to risk putting me on my guard,” the spellwarrior replied while rubbing his chin.

“So, what do we do?” 

Seth shrugged as he ducked back down. “Well, they are trying to draw me into a trap. All I can do is wait until their guard is down so I can turn the tables.”

So, they continued to surveil the temple, with Maya occasionally dropping notes that reported how consistently these men were holding their positions. Every shift swap and break was covered with redundant sets of eyes so that nobody could take advantage of their distractions. This continued until the next morning when Maya dropped down next to them. Seth, who had been taking a nap while Sam kept watch, nearly jumped when she arrived.

“Maya?! What are you--?”

“Relax! It’s okay! I came to tell you that a bunch of people are going inside!”

Seth peered over the pyre and noticed that the grounds were indeed emptier. Now, only six guards-- three maulans, two acolytes, and a Starling-- remained to watch the grounds. That was not only manageable, this was going to be simple. Maula-aligned or not, a priest is no warrior. And even with their guns, a Starling is no more well prepared for more unconventional uses for magic than anyone else.

“This is our chance! Sam, I want you to knock out those acolytes. You’ll have to watch out for the assassin’s weapon, but you should have no problem defeating a couple of priests!”

Sam nodded quietly but said nothing. Clearly her nerves were acting up again, but if the RGT was any indication, she’d get over it quickly. So he continued, “Maya, I want you to focus on the Starling. Don’t let him get a good shot at you and he won’t be able to resist your magic.”

“I won’t even let him fire that blasted thing!” Maya said with a smile.

Seth stood up and began to walk out from their hiding place, with the Storm of Mercy clutched firmly in his hands.  “Get moving! If you slow down even once, we’re all dead.”

The women dispersed to gain the advantage over their respective targets while Seth rushed toward the nearest maulan. If this weapon was loaded with the power, whose merest essence caused these beasts to explode on contact, there could be no better weapon for killing maulans than the Storm of Mercy. This plan worked out better than he could have hoped, for when he barely grazed the creature’s hip with the blade, the cut glowed with heavenly light. The maulan screamed bloody murder as his body swelled until it could no longer contain the pressure inflicted on him. So it’s almost exactly like a kerunite’s magic.

Things couldn’t have worked out better, as far as Seth could tell. Maya had managed to surprise the assassin from above and seal him in ice before he could even lift his gun. As Seth moved on to the second maulan, he saw Sam smack one of the acolytes in the back with the running strike that he had come to know her for. Seth grinned as he sidestepped his second foe’s furious tail jab and hacked off his tail with the halberd. This made the enemy more harmless as kerun’s magic drove him to his demise. Four down, two to go!

As Seth had hoped, Maya flew off to help Sam with the remaining acolyte as Seth set his sight on the final maulan. These two foes were far more alert than their recently slain comrades and consequently put up a much better fight. 

For his part, the maulan that Seth fought seemed to know better than to allow Seth to even touch him with his new weapon. This was easy to avoid as the spellwarrior was still getting used to its weight. Meanwhile, the speed of the maulan’s tail was unhindered, so Seth soon found himself on the defensive, desperately dodging his tail strikes while holding onto the halberd for dear life. In frustration, Seth threw his weapon like a massive javelin. Fuck it! He’s not Maula and it’s not like he can pick it up!

The maulan jumped wildly to his left to avoid the flying halberd, which gave Seth a chance to glance toward Sam. It was at this moment that the priest lashed in a wide arc. The resulting magic was a black sickle, not unlike one he had conjured before on a few occasions. The attack was strong enough to strike both Sam and Maya, with its magic-nullifying effect knocking the latter out of the air. Seth’s eyes widened as he forgot his own enemy for just a moment in his desire to counterattack.

“You call that a shadow claw, you son of a bitch?” He roared, before narrowly avoiding another Maulan strike. With a groan of disgust, Seth drew his sword and parried the tail yet again. Saving his friends would have to wait until he himself was safe. Hang on, guys! He unleashed a wall of flame, which caused the maulan to recoil in shock. This provided the opening he needed to make a clean jab to his neck with the tip of his blade. The maulan dropped to the ground, clutching his neck as he bled out in a sickening geyser of acid-green blood. 

With that taken care of, he wheeled around to deal with the acolyte who had injured his friends. As it turned out, however, he needn’t have worried because, as evidenced by the plethora of plant roots wrapped around him, Millie had gotten the drop on him. Seth would find the sunflower on the ground, quivering anxiously next to Sam’s head. He stooped down to inspect the girl and nodded. Just unconscious.

“They’re going to be fine! You haven’t lost your new apprentice yet!” Seth said as he rushed over to check on Maya. When he was satisfied that she wasn’t in any danger either, he said, “Millie! Get these two to safety and contact Master Karian at the academy! Tell him what’s happened and that I am about to engage Maula!”

Millie hastily assumed her humanoid form just to reply, “You don’t have to do this alone!”

Seth shook his head and smiled serenely as he walked back to retrieve the Storm of Mercy. “Chaos would disagree with you there. He wanted me to learn to conquer my fear. Well now I’m no longer afraid of myself or Maula and now that I’m looking at things at clearly, I can see the power that I’ve gained since this all started. I can do this. With this weapon, Maula can’t stop me and with everything I learned getting to this point, neither can anyone stupid enough to get in my way!”

Millie smirked as Seth hefted the shaft of the legendary weapon over his shoulders. “Look at you, all cool now! Well, I’m not going to argue with a god or anyone who’s proven to be taking orders from him. You know as well as I do what will happen if you’re wrong. Is thinking about that enough to change your mind?”

Seth shook his head. 

“Then I wish you luck,” Millie said with her widest smile. “Go get her! I’ll keep these ladies safe!”

“Thank you,” Seth said with a grateful nod. “Consider us even!”

Millie chuckled as Seth began his slow march up the temple grounds towards the steps to the entrance. As he began his ascent however, he heard something clattering to the ground nearby. He ignored the sound and continued to walk until he felt a sharp pain in his left leg. The pain quickly subsided as he watched a tiny rock roll off his thigh. Throwing rocks? Really? He rolled his eyes and continued his ascent, hardly worried about a few bruises. That was until a second rock hit him in the right shoulder. Motherfucker! Annoyed now, he stopped and gazed up toward the temple, trying to find something to hit in its shattered windows. But in his distraction, he failed to noticed the third rock until it hit him right in the shoulder.

Seth roared in frustration as months of pent up wrath exploded from his pores in a magical blaze. These flames coalesced into the shape of a great coiling serpent that soared toward the object of his rage, the temple itself. The great flame snake collided with the great door and exploded with a power that Seth could only describe as the wrath of Chaos himself. Convenient though it was, Seth was a little unnerved by this unexpected miracle, but he couldn’t allow himself to be daunted now. He had just opened the temple in a big way and he could only expect those inside to notice the noise he had made immediately.

He hurried up to the temple steps, satisfied that no one would be throwing any rocks at him anymore. He found no resistance along the way into the temple, however. When he reached the ripped open antechamber, he found two doors. One on the right, decorated with the officially-recognized symbol for Kerun, was completely blocked by a rock slide that might well have been caused by the strange magic that allowed him to break in through the front door. The left door, emblazoned with Maula’s symbol, stood slightly ajar. Should I flip a coin? He scoffed.

Seth crept through the open doorway with the Storm of Mercy held high. As he explored this wing, of the temple, however, he would find it littered with the corpses of countless followers of Maula. Acolytes, Starlings, and maulans alike were spread all around him in various states of dismemberment. In the center of it all, a tall woman with pale skin and black hair stood with a livid expression on her face. Well that certainly is no Queen Penelope. 

“Either things aren’t going according to plan for you, or you’re even crazier than I thought,” the spellwarrior called out boldly.

The goddess looked up and saw Seth for the first time with the hated halberd in his possession. “Do you think this makes a difference?” She hissed. “As a very wise mortal recently told me, it would be easier to wipe out your pathetic kind with my own hands! This only assures you a quicker destruction!”

Seth raised his eyebrows, feeling a familiar sense of mirth. The woman who stared him down didn’t feel like an evil goddess. She was more like any other criminal who ran afoul of the people’s laws in that moment. He couldn’t allow himself to forget how dangerous she was, but he also couldn’t ignore the swelling of confidence that he felt. 

“I’ve got a better idea,” Seth said as he began to advance on the goddess with his weapon raised. “How about you break this curse you’ve put on me, go home, and leave us all the fuck alone?”

Maula lashed her hand through the air, which sent a shadow claw soaring toward him. However, Seth found himself instinctively hiding behind the halberd, which seemed to absorbed the magic. Seth smirked and said, “Well if you have to do things the hard way, so be it!”

Maula disappeared as soon as Seth made this remark, only to reappear behind Seth. “I was going to say the same thing!” With that, she drove her palm into his back with a powerful strike that sent him somersaulting through the hall.

Seth pulled himself to his feet with a groan. Note to self: Storm of Mercy is useless if I can’t keep her in front of me! Sensing that this was the time to focus, Seth began to scan his surroundings. With a smile, he found the room filled with dark nooks, climbable pillars, and tapestries that would provide as much cover as he could ever dream of. For the spellwarrior known among his order as the Shadow Speedster, this place could only be seen as a playground.

Seth quickly darked into a nook and waited as the goddess made to approach him once more. But while he was safely out of her line of sight, he melted into the shadows and managed to flank her. He watched as she began to pace around the corridor, waiting for a chance to strike. But it would seem that limiting his engagement with Maula had only put her into a talkative mood.

“The stench of my father is stronger on you than when we first met!” she called out in a mocking tone. “Foolish man that he is, I fully expect you to make a mistake! I can wait that long!”

Seth refused to take the bait, instead strapping the Storm of Mercy to his back so he could climb one of the pillars for a surprise attack. As she circled back to his position, he felt tempted to drop down and drive the head of the halberd into her neck. But a familiar voice in his mind held him back. It wasn’t a calming presence by any means, but a certainty that his time to strike had not yet come.

“When I finish with you, I’m going to find the other heavenly dolls who escaped my clutches and take my time with their demise. You know full well that my power can bring death with the slightest touch, but they won’t know such mercy! I will pull their entrails out of their chest cavities with a rusty hook!”

Yeah, just keep talking, my lady! Seth thought in scorn as he hopped from his perch to the top of a tapestry and held on for dear life. He had built in this epic clash of heavenly forces in his head since the very beginning, but that wasn’t the mood he found himself now. He was just another spellwarrior on the job, about to put away a dangerous foe with his usual shock and awe tactics.

“When no champions remain to uphold the wills of my family I will wipe out everything they love about this place! When I am finished, they will only be able to weep when they look upon their precious world!”

Seth had heard about enough. All of this killing because of a family grudge? She was worse than the average malcontent who groveled beneath his blade. She was a spoiled child in the middle of a temper tantrum, smashing everything in sight to hurt someone else! Deity or not, Seth couldn’t let someone so petty have their way. So, Seth began to cut into the tapestry with his sword. When he felt it swaying under his weight, he let go and grabbed onto the pillar, then quickly leapt to another pillar. He then blasted his tear with a black flame star. This caused the tapestry to fall to the floor. When Maula looked up to see the falling cascade of cloth, Seth dropped down from above, aiming the blade of the Storm of Mercy downward. 

Seth drove his weapon into the Goddess’ neck and dragged it downward with a force intended to cleave her body in half. As expected, the halberd did no physical damage, but the blade had etched a line of blinding light into her skin. She howled in pain as the power rolled through her entire body while Seth quickly regained his footing and put some distance between them, just to be safe.

“These lives are OURS!” He finally retorted. “If you want to make some shitty point to your family, you’d better use something else! If your grudges threaten the people of Comalan, someone will rise every time to protect our right to exist!”

There was something wrong, though. Seth had expected the weapon’s magic to affect her in the same way it had the maulans outside. But as the light faded, Maula began to cover, panting confusedly. 

“That thing has a lot more kick than I remember!” the goddess said with a light cough. “But if you really thought you were going to cut me up that easily, you’re more naive than the average mortal! You are nothing!”

Shit! Seth tried to dart back into the shadows once more, but stopped in his tracks when he saw a spike emerging from his own shadow. Seth hated to see this spell because it punished his mobility. The more he tried to avoid the goddess, the more this spike would grow until it impaled him. He sighed and turned toward the goddess. He had never gotten the hang of breaking this spell because he had stalwartly refused to learn such a barbaric attack in the first place. Whatever happened next, he was immediately certain that it would take a miracle to escape Maula now. 

His mind blazed as she walked toward him with deliberation. The only chance he had now as to wait for her to get close enough for one good strike. Attacking Maula would almost certainly cause the spike to do him in, but it would be worth it to finish her off. If she could feel pain and fatigue, it couldn’t be impossible to kill her, so he had to try.

She was about to approach him when the Storm of Mercy began to vibrate. He stared at its head intently and thought he could hear a voice. Kerun’s voice.

“As I have died to become closer to her, you must now bridge the gap. Let my soul become your own!”

Well, that wasn’t the slightest bit helpful! Although his words made absolutely no sense, he could feel the Storm of Mercy’s divine energy radiating outward. Seth only had a few seconds to think about it, and ultimately decided to absorb this energy like he would any other magic. Maybe the trick to Storm of Mercy wasn’t in the metal but the power within. Using this foreign magic to enhance any of his own spells would certainly have unusual effects, perhaps one of which might be fatal to Maula. But which spell? He desperately plumbed the depths of his mind for a way to use this new power when that voice from before returned to remind him.

“Do not fear your power.”

What was it that Chaos had been trying to get him to understand all this time? This curse of his could be a gift! Depending on how he looked at it, it was either a daily waking nightmare, or an incredible power. His skin began to burn with the power he had absorbed, very much like his palm did the day he absorbed the wild source matter that caused him to kill Ricardo the nurse. Perhaps if he could combine them…

“You have put up an incredible fight,” Maula said, now nearly close enough to touch him. “For a split second, I considered the possibility of failure, thanks to you. For teaching me this important lesson, I’ll grant you, and only you, a quick death.”

I wish I had a choice not to do the same!

The two of them reached out simultaneously with their right hands and pressed their palms to each other’s cheeks. The effects of Maula’s magic was instantaneous and he could feel his body shutting down immediately. Miraculously, the last thing he would see before his death was Maula falling beside him.

***

Seth gasped as light flooded his eyes. He quickly sat upright, bewildered. He looked around and found that he was still in the temple. Maula continued to lay next to him, not moving or breathing. He had been about to check her pulse when the Storm of Mercy radiated a sudden, piercing glow. This caught his attention, so he picked up the halberd again. When he did, he heard Kerun’s voice once more.

“I’m glad I caught you before you touched her again! I was able to save you this time, but even in death, Maula’s body remains fatal to touch.”

“What happened?”

“I merged with the power left in your body by my sister,” Kerun said matter-of-factly. This didn’t clear things up in the slightest, nor did much of anything he ever said, for that matter. Thankfully, he elaborated. “This curse that was inflicted on you. When my essence mingled with hers, it changed the nature of the curse itself. Although you remained as fatal to touch as she is, your curse became a power that she herself was not immune to.”

Seth raised his head hopefully, looking at nothing in particular. “You said that all in the past tense. Am I still cursed?”

“No. That curse died with her. You are free of her, for now.”

“Until the next time Maula does this?” Seth grumbled.

“I hope she won’t rebel against her family any time soon,” Kerun replied dispassionately. “She is being punished now. At the very least that by the time she cools down enough to regain her freedom, you will probably have gone the way of Nicholai. I don’t see what can be done about her anger yet, but if nothing is done you won’t have to worry about it, at the very least.”

Seth thought about the god’s words, feeling far from assured by them. “If you’re not even going to deny the possibility of her doing this all over again, I hope you don’t mind if I decide not to break down the halberd and make the next generation go through this all over again.”

Silence greeted Seth as the response to his statement, which lasted several long moments. He had begun to wonder if he had been a little too bold when Kerun replied, “That is fine.”

Using the halberd as a crutch, Seth pushed his aching body back onto his feet. “I’ll make sure it stays close by, so if anyone comes back to this place to worship you again, they can rely on your protection.”

“I couldn’t have figured a better fate for this vessel myself,” Kerun said. “My family wants you to know that you have their gratitude.”

“I’ll try not to take that too lightly,” Seth said with a scoff.

“I know that you have seen firsthand that we are not perfect people,” Kerun said a little sadly. “None of us ever pretend to be, but mortals have somehow carried that impression for a long time. I’m sorry if you were disappointed by my sister’s pettiness.”

“Don’t be. It’s not so bad to be judged according to our standards,” Seth said as he began to wander toward the antechamber. “Although I’d appreciate you not passing it on to your father.”

“Not a problem,” Kerun said, somewhat mirthfully. “He wants you to know that you have… satisfied him.”

“Considering the source, that’s the best compliment I’ll ever get,” Seth said with a chuckle.

“We are all proud of you. And your friends, too. Father says to go on without fear.”

“I’ve got no problem with that.”

So, Seth left the temple and found help on the outside. As promised, Millie had summoned the spellwarriors, who mobilized quickly in anticipation of this event. The scene outside looked grim before Seth revealed that Maula was defeated. In a flash, his knightly brothers and sisters went from staring into the edge of death to clapping him on the back in congratulations. It felt good to be touched again without fear of harming anyone. This was sweeter than any other consequence of his victory.

After combing the temple, the spellwarriors would find the other three champions, all safe within the confines of the Kerun wing of the temple. Upon learning this news, Seth set aside his brethren and tracked them down. He listened with rapt attention as they filled him in on how Mia had bravely held off the Starlings before learning her own stepmother was possessed by Maula. He braved the young assassin’s disappointment that she couldn’t be the one to finish off Dinorah Winstrom. Then, he followed along bemusedly as Clint tried to explain his miraculous adventure with the Ring of Enlightenment-- then thumped him three times upon learning it was Clint who had thrown those rocks at him. Sam, Maya, and Millie, turned up in the middle of this and were proud to fill the other champions in on their own actions that day. 

The group returned to Palon and found a hero’s welcome for Seth there. For years, he had lived in humiliation under his mother’s strict training but now that word had spread throughout the land of the Second Wave of Death and his own role in stopping it, his neighbors could no longer deny what everyone else knew about him. He smiled in his own home for the first time in many years as friends, family, and his new comrades celebrated into the night.

Death Touch Chapter 36

With this, Death Touch only has four chapters left! This has been a long ride for me, but I'm going to finish strong! After several years on and off the shelf and months of queue-jumping, late updates (*cough*), and preemptive agonizing over the edits I'm going to make for the final draft, I intend to finish the story THIS MONTH. Regular content will continue for the next week or so, but then comes Death Touch Week, in which I'll be updating this story for four updates in a row! If you've been following the journey of Seth, Sara, Clint and Mia all this time, or even if you just started now and happened to like this chapter, make sure to congratulate me for coming closer than I ever have to completing my first novel on Twitter (and bask in the dark profile pic, which depicts one of our champions)!

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Clint 

“He’s resting at the Peakview Clinic. He’s pulled a few things from his fight, but nothing Sara can’t put right when she and Mia catch up.”

Sam delivered this message of Seth’s condition to Clint on a muggy afternoon the day after spellwarrior’s rescue from the blood mage hideout. The Intalan champion would have loved to be there when he was checked into this clinic, but something had caught his eye as soon as he had arrived in Foldo. Since then, he had turned his focus to their quest now that they were so close to the end.

A blacksmith had been working his outdoor forge with materials that looked similar to what Seth and Sam had acquired in Ridge. It was then that he remembered the pressing issue that awaited the champions. According to the legend, they were responsible for forging the Storm of Mercy and, now that they had collected three of the four artifacts needed to completed it, it was high time someone figured out how. With Sara and Mia walking through Flora Field and Seth physically indisposed, who better than him? The former of the three had once told him that his gift was learning quickly, which his newfound grasp on the ancient tongue proved. 

Fortunately, Clint didn’t need to look far for the ideal tutor. The sign above the door to the workshop indicated that the business was called “Steelworth Weaponry.” That could only mean that the man working in front of it was Martin Steelworth. Clint had discussed the legend of the original legendary halberd with Sara at the festival and had learned that the champions who defeated Maula the first time was aided by a metalworker named Patrick Steelworth. It was here in Foldo that Clint had hoped to find someone carrying his legacy and Martin fit that description perfectly.

The blacksmith had just poured a generous flow of molten steel into a mold that looked like the beginnings of a new axe head. Then, with a sigh, he looked up to Clint with a gruff stare. He was an old man whose burly physique was marred with countless burn scars that contrasted with the dark tan in his skin. More importantly at the moment, he seemed annoyed to have been interrupted even though Clint hadn’t yet said anything.

“See anything you like, young man?” he growled as diplomatically as a man working with hot metal could possibly be.

“Just your name, old man,” Clint replied with a biting emphasis on the last two words. Normally, only Seth would risk antagonizing him this way, but Clint could tell that Martin was not a man who liked to see weakness.

Martin narrowed his eyes at the champion and said, “Not many people are interested in my name. Who are you?”

Clint gave him a strong smirk in response. “Oh, just a modern counterpart to the people who needed the help of your famous ancestor.”

Martin wiped the sweat from his forehead and frowned. “If you want me to believe that, you’d better know what I need to see.”

Clint reached into his backpack and pulled out the dark black chain that Seth had been found with. “This is just one of the pieces. The blade is with a friend of mine in town. The spear is with some other friends and by the time they get here, they’ll have the other chain.”

Martin picked up the chain and examined it closely. “It’s not easy to create a forgery of this artifact, so I’m going to assume it’s genuine. So, what experience do you have forging weapons?”

Clint sighed and responded. “None. I’m a hunter.

The blacksmith rolled his eyes and pushed open the door to his shop. “Come on, then. I can tell this is going to take some time.”

So, Clint began his apprenticeship under the blacksmith. Martin wasn’t optimistic about his chances of learning the techniques he would need even within a month. But they couldn’t afford any shortcuts. Sara was certain that the Storm of Mercy could only be properly forged by the hands of someone anointed by the gods and the slightest mistake could unpredictably affect the finished weapon’s power. With this in mind, Martin let Clint do everything himself and kept most of his instructions strictly verbal. With this approach in mind, Clint picked up the basics quickly enough and, by the next afternoon, he only found himself struggling to refine his technique.

It was during his second failed test run that Sam had showed up to update him on Seth’s condition. The visit was a welcome excuse to take a break for the exhausted champion. Perhaps sensing the urgency that followed his purpose, Martin had been working him hard. He had reacted with extreme impatience with even the most reasonable requests to stop. But where thirst and the need to go to the bathroom was met with a reluctant dismissal, Martin couldn’t argue that Clint didn’t need to know what was happening to his comrades.

“How about the staff?” Clint asked with a frown as he studied the misshapen shaft he had just finished. “None of them touched him, did they?”

Sam shook her head. “It took some convincing, but they’re letting Maya take care of him. Thank the gods nothing serious happened to him.”

Clint nodded and dropped the failed attempt at a halberd on the counter. “That’s good. I’m sure he’ll be on his feet long before I get this worked out.”

Sam eyed the bent shaft with a smile. “You’re getting the hang of it faster than anyone else. Most people back in Ridge take twice as long just to get the metal to cool. Whatever techniques the man here uses must be exactly what you need.”

Clint shrugged, smiling weakly as he glanced at the forge that would be melting the ingots for his next attempt. “I know that. Believe it or not, I still have a firm grip on my patience so far.”

Sam chuckled. “Well, that won’t last for long if you lose focus. I should let you get back to it.”

Clint nodded gratefully. “Thanks for dropping in. Make sure Seth knows where to find me when he’s up and walking again!”

By the end of his fifth day, Clint had finally managed to put together a perfect shaft and was about to start learning the technique for the blade. Before he could begin this lesson, however, Martin had something else to talk about.

“Clint, m’boy, you’ve really impressed me with how fast you’ve been improving,” the usually-curmudgeonly blacksmith said with a wide grin. “I have something I want to give you.”

Martin then held out his hand and revealed a brass ring set with what appeared to be a chunk of amber. Clint took the ring tentatively and put it on his left hand almost immediately.

“Thanks,” the champion mumbled apprehensively. “What’s this for?”

Martin frowned and picked up the steel pole Clint had just finished. He seemed to be thinking about something. Clint was about to rouse him from his contemplation when he responded, “I had a dream in which you wore this ring. You were standing atop a crumbling black tower with a heavy wind whipping everything around, looking like the king of the world.”

Crane must want me to have it, Clint thought to himself, remembering the god’s affinity for wind. “Well thank you, Martin. I don’t know what to do with this yet, but I won’t let your gift go to waste. We’re going to win.”

The blacksmith merely grunted in approval and set him to work on the blade until nightfall. It was when he left for the night that he finally encountered Seth once more on his way back to the inn at which he’d been staying.

“Hey!” the spellwarrior said with a grin. “How come you haven’t visited, asshole?”

Clint rolled his eyes dramatically and smirked in response. “While you were loafing around, I’ve been working out how to make the weapon we need once we have everything together.”

“Speaking of which, where are the other two champions with the rest of the artifacts?”

Clint raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I dunno. They should have had plenty of time to catch up by now. Maybe they got held up by that other champion of Maula.”

“There’s two of those monsters?”

Clint nodded. “They had the safest path, though. It’s not like anyone could get hurt in Flora Field, right?”

“Tell that to my ex,” Seth said with a roll of his eyes.

It took Clint a great effort not to chuckle at the obvious mention of the fey spellwarrior, Millie Flora. I’m sure he’d love to forget her even now. “Well, we need to figure out for sure what happened to them. Do you think you can find them?”

Seth nodded and patted the summoning horn he kept tucked beneath his collar, smirking incredulously. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Between Millie and Inkfang, that should be no problem.”

“Do you think Inkfang remembers Millie’s scent?” Clint asked teasingly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Seth said irritably. 

So, Seth left Foldo with Sam and Maya in tow. Clint hadn’t talked to any of them much in his time there, but now that they were gone, he felt somewhat lonely. As his only company, Martin was sufficient, but his instruction had only become more strict since they had begun learning to make the Storm of Mercy’s blade, which was far more complex than the shaft. It took all day for him to even finish his first attempt from the day before. When he passed it to Martin for inspection, however, the blacksmith merely tossed it aside carelessly. 

“It’s uneven! The point on the back is too short! Start again!”

Clint sighed and pulled a fresh ingot from the shelf to start his second attempt. He was starting to think it wasn’t necessary to start fresh every time he messed up, but that Martin was forcing him to do so only to give him more practice. This was a sensible approach to teaching, but Clint resented the extra work more and more as it took a toll on his muscles. 

He worked on this one late into the night, fearing the expense of any more time than necessary. It wasn’t healthy for him to push himself so hard, but he didn’t care. So much was riding on the completion of their quest. Maulans were out there killing people and his best friend was burdened with a deadly curse that made it impossible to tussle his hair as he liked to do. If he truly had a gift for learning rapidly, he considered it his responsibility to use that gift to bring a swift end to the death that Maula brought to the world.

It was nearly sunrise when Clint started to put the finishing touches on his second blade. His vision was blurred with fatigue to the point where he couldn’t tell how it was coming along. He stopped hammering and sighed. Martin can tell me what I messed up later. His eyes went unfocused and fluttered a few times before falling shut. That was the last thing he remembered before passing out on the floor of Martin’s workshop.

“Oy! Get up!”

Martin had walked in two hours later and began kicking him awake. Clint sat up sluggishly and looked around blearily. His muscles screamed with fatigue and his head throbbed as well. He looked up to his new mentor, who was holding what appeared to be an axe head in his left hand. He sighed and hung his head. At this moment, he didn’t care what Martin was going to say about his new blade. He didn’t have the strength to make another. Maybe when Seth came back with the others and Sara had a chance to heal him…

“You did a good job with this one,” Martin said gruffly as he held the blade for him to take. “There are some rough patches, but if you’re consistent I know you’ll get it right next time.”

Clint took the axe head with disbelief. Looking more closely, this one looked much more like the drawing he had seen in one of Richard’s history books. He couldn’t even see a single flaw, but he was tired and far less experienced than Martin, so he had no intention of arguing the point. He continued to study the blade intently until the blacksmith began to grow impatient.

“Oh, get off my floor! I have to open the shop! You can go rest until you’re ready to make the real thing.”

Music to my ears!

Next Chapter

Welcome to the World of Comalan!

Hey, everyone! For those of you who don't know me, my name is Maya and I am a writer whose dream has long been to create a world to share with as many people as I can. I have been at work on and off since 2007 to complete my first novel, but real-life responsibilities and various struggles tend to overshadow this goal most of the time. So I have started this blog to  keep the dream alive. It exists partly to develop the world in which my novel will take place and partly to motivate myself to finish it.

What you may be wondering is what you, the reader can expect to find here. To answer this theoretical question, you will find daily updates relating to the lore of Comalan, a world of mystery, enchantment, and conflict. It is a planet that is watched over by a small family of deities who interact with and direct their subjects on a whim. For countless millennia, the forces of Chaos, Crane, Serenity, Salica, Geos, Maula, and Kerun have shaped the destiny of Comalan's inhabitants to suit their varying ideals. Sometimes the gods are at odds with each other; sometimes they are at odds with their mortal subjects.

This website will be maintained by me, with additional contributions from a good friend of mine who has agreed to join me on this exciting journey. For the first week or so, we will try to get into the swing of things with a constant and unscheduled stream of updates. Once we have built up a decent array of content, we'll settle on an update schedule that continues to provide glimpses into Comalan seven days a week. I want to thank you for visiting and hope that this site will grow into a fun-loving community.