Mythica, book 1, Chapter 43+Epilogue.

We've reached the end of book 1. It's been a lot of fun for me as an author to get to play in a film universe. While many things are set in stone as far as cannon from the film series, the folks at Arrowstorm Entertainment have given me far more leeway that I could have hoped for.

The book should be released in a few months. The editing process is ongoing, and the publisher is completing the audio. We'll release audio, ebook, and print at the same time.

What's next after this? I have a few ideas. Book 2 of Mythica will begin, but I have another Royal Road project that I also want to start on. Well, I actually may need your help on that. I have three projects in mind that I've written several chapters for and I'm not sure which to focus on, so I'll be soliciting your opinions with a sample soon.

Chapter 43.

“Sabine-boss dead, what we do now Orren-mage?” Sabine heard Skrix say as she awoke back in her borrowed form.

“Woah, don’t count me out just yet,” Sabine said, her sudden movement causing Skrix to shriek like a child and run for cover.

“Sabine! I thought we had lost you,” Orren said, rushing over to her side.

“Give me a minute to get my bearings,” Sabine said, waving away Orren’s offer to help her up.

Sabine didn’t know how time passed in the realm that her trial was held in, but it appeared that she had woken up not long after she had fallen. The two bonfires burned bright, and orc bodies were scattered all around her. Either her spirit beasts had been destroyed or at least an hour had passed since the creatures were no longer visible.

“What happened after I fell?” Sabine asked.

“With the spirit beasts helping, Skrix and I were able to finish off the orcs. I do have to say, we wouldn’t have had a chance if you hadn’t cut so many down. I’ve never seen you fight like that; the normal orcs didn’t stand a chance and even that brute Gublax was terrified,” Orren said.

Looking across the battlefield, Sabine could replay the fight in her head. While under the effects of Rage of the Revenant, she had cut down almost half the orcish tribe as she had hunted down Gublax. Hamish had been enough of a distraction that Orren and Skrix were able to arm themselves and contribute, but the heavy lifting on their side of the battle was done by the spirit beasts. It was too bad she was going to have to return that necklace to the temple now that the orcs were dealt with.

Sabine stood, her body feeling a bit unsteady as her mana slowly regenerated. It was only at 3% and was holding steady at that amount as whatever she gathered went to work on repairs. Her arm was still gone, but a small stub was starting to grow from her shoulder. The other wounds were also closing, but it might be some time before all the repairs were completed.

“It’s time to find the temple and return this amulet,” Sabine said. She grasped the amulet and tried to concentrate. A strong tug on the amulet led Sabine to the largest tent in the camp. It must have been stolen from some merchant caravan and was made of fine material. Inside, Sabine was shocked at what she found.

The floor of the tent had been ripped out to reveal the skeletal remains of an ogre. Gublax had used the skull of the beast as his seat and planks were placed over the ogre’s ribs to serve as tables for his warriors. On the far side of the tent, a broken stone plinth stood. It was the plinth that was calling her.

“With this, my obligation to you is complete,” Sabine said to the mysterious god as she approached and placed the necklace on top of the plinth.

You have served me well and are deserving of your reward. This place holds some connection to you as well as to my followers. Your reward will reflect your current service, and your past bravery, take it, and go with my blessing.

The words appeared in Sabine’s mind and once she read them, Sabine could feel the presence of the mysterious god fade from the area. On top of the plinth, the necklace turned to dust. Sadly, there would be no more spirit beast summons for Sabin. She looked for her promised reward but couldn’t spot anything.

“Help me look, I was promised a reward, and it should be around here somewhere,” Sabine asked. Orren and Skrix got to work, looking through the refuse strewn about inside the tent. Orcs weren’t known for their housekeeping and Gublax was apparently no exception to the rule.

“What this? I see handle-knife thing. No worry, Skrix not touch,” Skrix said. Sabine walked over to where the verminkin was pointing. The polished steel handle of a dagger was there, wedged into the bone of the ogre’s big toe where it met the remains of the toenail. Could it be the same ogre that had killed Sabine so long ago? It surely wasn’t the same dagger she had used that day.

Reaching out, Sabine grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled. It released smoothly and this must have been the reward mentioned by the god. There was no way the orcs could have overlooked this for twenty years. The handle had a short cross guard and a long, curved, single-edged blade. At the bottom of the hilt, a clear gem was placed. Three runes were carved into the blade and Sabine could tell this weapon was something special. The information appeared as Sabine held the blade.

Toe Picker. This dagger has received minor enchantments from a long-forgotten god. The weapon is attuned to your mana and can even store a small charge for you. When mana is pushed into the weapon, the rune storage system will activate. Three mana charges may be stored inside the weapon, with your choice of blunt, piercing, or slashing damage.

When you strike a foe with Toe Picker, you may choose to release a charge from inside the blade or leave the charges for other threats. Natural enhancements to the blade’s sharpness and durability make it a formidable weapon even without the addition of mana. Attuned to you specifically, if the weapon is broken or stolen, it will eventually reappear inside your storage space.

It was a powerful addition to her arsenal. Sabine dropped her damaged buckler and slid Toe Picker onto her belt. The dagger was strong enough to serve as a blocking weapon and much more deadly than the buckler had been. She would have to see about infusing it with mana later, it would be a while before she was able to spare mana for experimentation.

She had her reward from the mysterious god, but there was another reward she hadn’t examined yet; her new armor. Reaching into storage, Sabine began to pull out the pieces to her Shell Hound Plate. The armor started with a suit of padded armor that covered her entire body except for her feet, hands, and head.

The material was light and flexible as leather but resisted damage better than chainmail. It was made from the inner skin of the Shell hound and had a dark purple hue to it. This first layer of armor fit Sabine perfectly and was more comfortable than anything she had ever worn.

The second part of her armor was fashioned from the hard exoskeleton of the shell hound. It consisted of a heavy breastplate, pauldrons, greaves, and segmented plates to cover her forearm. Sabatons covered her feet and slipped on top of her boots, allowing her good traction and flexibility. The armor plates had been treated with something that gave them an almost golden, metallic hue.

Sabine was happy to find the armor wasn’t overly heavy and didn’t restrict her movements in combat. How well it would hold up in battle remained to be seen, but given how tough the shell hounds were, she figured it would perform at least as well as plate armor. With her weapons and armor, Sabine was as prepared as she could hope to be.

“Sabine, I found this over by the plinth,” Orren said, handing her a sheath that fit Toe Picker perfectly. Having only one hand currently, Orren was able to help her belt the weapon on. He was cautious of touching the hilt, even after Sabine explained that the dagger didn’t hold any curses like Reckoning held.

“What we do now?” Skrix asked.

“Loot whatever we can and head to the port of Shamrahar. Golgotia awaits,” Sabine said.

There proved to be a decent amount of loot. The orcs had stalked the caravan route for years, and while they were cautious enough to stay alive this long, they hadn’t been afraid to strike when the opportunity arose. Most of the treasure consisted of various goods, but there were enough coins to more than replenish what Sabine had given to her relatives.

A lot of the goods would be left behind, items that were too bulky or held little value to them. Her storage inside the realm of the dead held the rest, most of it trade goods that were portable and valuable, such as tableware and various household items. A few gems and jewelry were found, and a few hours after they had started their search, the orc camp was rather well picked over.

A final item went into Sabine’s storage. One by one, the bones of the ogre were stored inside. Its head almost didn’t fit, but the mouth of the pouch barely allowed it to pass. She didn’t know if Hamish would ever be able to use the skeleton, but if this was the ogre that had killed her, she wanted to keep it as a trophy.

The rest of their trip to the port proved uneventful. It took them just over a week of hard travel to reach their destination. Sabine kept them training each day, including Hamish whenever he was available. Both Orren and Skrix were improving quickly, but Hamish was still a bit of a mess.

Her advisor was also rather upset that after all their work and defeating the orc camp, they hadn’t reached rank six in Gnessos’ favor. The only thing Sabine could think of was that she had detoured from Gnessos’ quest to complete a quest for another god. These gods were jealous and childish at times, but at least they had gained some ground toward the next rank. When they finally approached the port city, her favor jumped a bit, but it was still not enough for the next rank.

Sabine Giroux.

Revenant, Rank 5.

Gnessos’ Favor: 1918/2500.

“Oh, that doesn’t look good,” Orren said as the road crested a rise, and they got their first good look at Shamrahar.

“Does human water city place always burn-fight like that?” Skrix asked. In the distance, the city was under attack. Ships near the port burned and the sounds of battle could be heard when the wind shifted. The city had a stone wall around it, but it was breached in at least two places. Surrounding the city was a large military camp, but they were too far away for Sabine to recognize any of the flags.

“No, Skrix, I don’t think this is normal for Shamrahar,” Sabine said.

“While it might not be normal for the city, it is kind of normal for what we’ve been through so far,” Orren added.

“I can’t disagree with that, Orren. How about we head down there and see what all the fuss is about?” Sabine said as she strode toward the chaos.

Epilogue.

Darvick cloaked himself in shadow as he approached the small camp. His prey had been hard to track, but Darvick had been skilled at such things long before he became the champion of a god. The target sat on a camp chair in front of a small tent. At the nearby fire, she was brewing up some noxious creation.

Having watched his target for over a week, Darvick was well-versed in her routine. Each night she would work on various elixirs and then spend some time brushing or pouring them over her servants. One thing that Darvick wasn’t sure of was how much effect those concoctions had on his target’s servants.

It didn’t really matter much. All he needed was one clear opening to strike his target. With her gone, no matter how much she had bolstered them, the undead would crumble to the ground. He didn’t know for certain which god his target was the champion of, but given her penchant for summoning and controlling undead, he could make an educated guess.

Ikbose was the master of the restless dead, and his target’s likely patron. Darvick had never considered the gods that much, they seemed to rarely take note of mortals, so he didn’t think they were worth wasting time on. When an assassination had gone wrong and Darvick lay there bleeding out, his attitude toward the gods changed when one approached him with an offer. Uxsabi, the master of murder and deceit had recruited Darvick that day as his champion.

Since that day of recruitment, Darvick had gained his gods’ favor, recently reaching rank nine. Tonight’s kill should grant him rank ten, which his patron had hinted was a special rank that granted more benefits than usual. To make his kill and reach that rank, Darvick would have to slip past his target’s guards. A half dozen undead, clad in chainmail and holding longswords like they knew how to use them, circled the small camp.

Darvick could move unseen, even pass unnoticed by an undead guard with enhanced senses. The only problem was that the other champion would be able to sense his presence when he got within striking range. His cloak of shadows was good, but not that good, at least not until he gained more favor and upgraded the item.

A pattern began to emerge as the guards patrolled outside the camp. The undead were creatures of habit, and even though the patrol route wasn’t a bad one, there were always gaps to exploit when your opponent did the same things the same way every time. Choosing his weapon for the task, Darvick readied Final Notice, his shortsword. Mana flooded the blade granting it more power and adding a poison deadly to the undead that Darvick had discovered.

His opening arrived, and Darvick moved like the shadows he was cloaked in, slipping past the outer ring of guards. Only the single skeleton that his target was painting with her concoction was nearby, and he would deal with the target long before the others could react. His sword was thrusting toward the target when she finally noticed him.

“Someone is in the camp, stop him,” she shouted pointing her finger in the general area that Darvick was approaching from. His blade struck home a second later, piercing what would have been the heart of a living being. His target was as dead as her servants, and with his Eyes of Undeath, Darvick could sense mana pouring from the wound he had just inflicted.

His opponent partially dodged his second strike and Final Notice only pierced a short way into the target’s shoulder. Before he could manage a third strike, his foe muttered the words to a spell and clawed hands emerged from the ground beneath Darvick, holding him in a powerful grip. The other guards arrived, swords raised to end Darvick, but his opponent made a critical mistake, she wanted to gloat.

“What pitiful god do you follow champion? I suppose it doesn’t matter, my minions will tear you apart and your power will feed me and my patron well. I wonder what Ikbose will reward me with for presenting him your head?” His target taunted.

“May I at least have your name before this is ended?” Darvick said, playing for time. He found that opponents often responded better to politeness rather than threats.

“Tell me who you serve, and I’ll tell you my name,” the target offered. Darvick tried to look unsure and afraid, but his confidence was growing by the second. He had only inflicted two wounds on his foe, but those wounds caused her body to pour out mana like a severed artery and the toxin on his blade clouded her ability to detect it.

“I suppose I can tell you. I serve Uxsabai, the master of murder and deceit,” Darvick said, noting that the flow of mana from his opponent was starting to slow, which meant she was either more powerful than he thought and had stemmed the flow, or she was about done.

“Well, send your master my best wishes. Ikbose will enjoy the power he is providing to us this lovely night,” the target taunted.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think you understand the situation. You’re already dead and just don’t know it yet,” Darvick said.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but…” the target started to say before stumbling as the last of her mana flowed from the wound. Her undead minions collapsed and Darvick was freed from the spell she had cast on him.

“What have you done to me?” She pleaded as the toxin wore off and she got a good look at the wounds on her undead body.

“I’ve murdered you, that’s what I do. Only a few more like us are left, and I will eliminate them in good time,” Darvick said.

“But what about the quest, our masters will all perish if the necromancer and his Golgotians are not stopped,” the target whined as she perished for a final time.

“Maybe you’ll be granted a trial, maybe not. Either way, you’ll return much weaker and will no longer be a threat to me or my master. As for the true threat, I’ll deal with that once I have the power of all the gods of death,” Darvick said to the corpse at his feet.

He never gloated while a victim was still in the fight, but after they had been slain, he felt free to indulge in the simple pleasure of humiliating an unworthy foe. Power rushed into Darvick as he hit rank ten. Uxsabai was pleased with him, and from what his master whispered into his mind, only two more champions remained. They would fall, and Darvick would rise, it was the way of things.

First, he would review the new gifts and powers bestowed upon him, then the hunt could continue once more.