Of Heroes and Villains
The Last of the Sages IV
By
Julius St. Clair
Copyright © 2014 by Julius St. Clair
All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Now Available (at a discounted price for a limited time):
The Last of the Sages
The Dark Kingdom (Book 2 of the Sage Saga)
Hail to the Queen (Book 3 of the Sage Saga)
Another epic fantasy series by Julius St. Clair that you will fall in love with:
Obsidian Sky (Book #1 of the Obsidian Saga)
Dear Reader,
First and foremost, I just want to say that I do not believe in continuing a series just for the sake of it, and I certainly hate the “shameless cash grab.” I have come across many series that continue on into 10 books or more, while the story just continues to get weaker and weaker with each installment.
I love a good story, but in order to ensure that it maintains its integrity, there has to be a time in which it has a definitive end. If you are fan of Star Wars in any way, then you know that the series is about to continue on with Episodes 7-9. Now, if they were to simply continue the story of Anakin Skywalker, it would be terrible. For example, they could raise him from the dead somehow and have him go through more adventures in episodes 7-9. To that, I would say, please just stop. That tale is over. Just leave it alone.
However, that doesn’t mean the Star Wars universe can’t continue on with new characters, stories and adventures. That is how I feel about the Sage Saga. It started out as just a trilogy, and I had no intention of creating a fourth installment. None whatsoever. But as I do with nearly all my books, I found myself leaving little mysteries and a few unanswered questions. This is not because I wanted to explore those ideas in a fourth book, but because that is how I believe life is. We don’t get the answers to everything. Neither should the characters in books, and to some extent, the readers. There has to be room for a reader to speculate and draw their own conclusions on certain matters. Here is one example I’ve left open to a degree: is there really a Paradise and Oblivion? Or is it just a belief of the Sages, since the Langorans, Prattlians and Quietus don’t mention it at all within their cultures? (Notice that it is the only the Allayans that have seen the souls of others, and if you want to argue for Thorn’s plan, remember that he was also of Allay, so…what does that mean?). That kind of unanswered speculation excites me for some reason.
Anyways, to continue what I was saying, I love leaving some things open (not open endings, mind you), and I hope that you, as the reader, appreciate those little things as well. With that being said, there were a couple questions I left unanswered that I just kept on thinking about once the trilogy was done. Over time, a new story began to etch itself out within my mind, and I realized that I couldn’t leave the world of the Sages alone. I had to go back. I wanted to create an entirely different protagonist though, because let’s be honest. For the most part, James’ story arc is complete. Although we all keep on growing throughout our lives (or at least, we like to think so), there does hit a moment in which we have pretty much become the person we’re going to be (minus extreme circumstances occurring).
Thus, Bastion was born. I hope you’ll like him, though like James in the first Sage book, he’ll have his own growing up to do in some ways. It’s all part of the journey. Rest assured though, all that survived Thorn’s wrath are back as well, and so...within this book, you will find that there will be a lot of new, and some of the old. Either way, I hope you’ll have fun.
From here on out, I will be emulating that Star Wars model I mentioned earlier, because I think that’s just what works best. Personally, I don’t want to see James taking all the spotlight for a ridiculous number of installments. That’s just…boring.
So here’s what will happen. Each set of 3 books will be a NEW TRILOGY. 1-3, 4-6, 7-9, etc. That means, you can be at ease knowing that each set of 3 is a complete narrative that will have a definitive beginning, middle and end. For example, Book 6 is going to have a true ending for Bastion, and if a book 7 did get written, it would in many ways be a brand new story. For the record, I don’t even know if I’m going to write a book 7. It’s only if a story comes to me—which is also good for you too, because if for whatever reason, you start getting tired of this world, you could finish a set of 3, and then ignore the next one. I think that’s fair, and I always try to do what I as a reader would like to see happen. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this novel. There’s a bit of mystery, some romance, political intrigue, plenty of good old Sage action and a few surprises. Thank you for all your support, and again, if you have any questions or suggestions, please do not hesitate to e-mail me.
Appreciative and grateful,
Julius St. Clair
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1 – Talented
Chapter 2 – The Order of Things
Chapter 3 – Say That One More Time
Chapter 4 – Reenactment
Chapter 5 – Intervention
Chapter 6 – Search
Chapter 7 – The Well
Chapter 8 – Hide and Seek
Chapter 9 – Letting Go
Chapter 10 – Push
Chapter 11 – Nightmares
Chapter 12 – First Day
Chapter 13 – Equals?
Chapter 14 – Old Weapons
Chapter 15 – Just In Case
Chapter 16 – Promotions
Chapter 17 – Ancient
Chapter 18 – Them
Chapter 19 – Deliberation
Chapter 20 – Our Darkest Hour
Chapter 21 – Under the Moonlight, We Fight
Chapter 22 – For Your Soul, I’ll Die
Chapter 1 – Talented
“Stop running away!” his mother shouted for the third time. Once again, he disobeyed. Before she could swing the dagger down onto his right shoulder, he dove to the left. Even after he had hit the dirt, he continued rolling frantically, kicking up the dried out soil. His mother sucked her teeth and decided to cease her attacks, which only made him more anxious. The cloud of dirt that had kicked up from his escape stung his eyes and coated his tongue as he tried to catch his breath. His new white cotton shirt was now a rusty copper color, and his hair was tussled, raining down pebbles and dust onto his nose. He sneezed, and his mother shook her head in disappointment, watching him carefully through her long, frizzled brown hair.
Still, it was a good day.
He was fortunate that he had received a reprieve at all. Too often, his mother would charge and attack him relentlessly, as soon as his father was out of eye shot. It was a horrible ritual that paralyzed him with uncertainty every single day. His father would kiss his mother lightly on the cheek, nod his way, and then begin his long trek to the village. Living on the outskirts was never fun, but that was the price one had to pay for privacy and a few acres of land. Still, the journey would have surely been made easier if it wasn’t for his fractured leg. A nasty fall from a village roof when he was in his youth. A Sage would have been able to heal it. Or a Quietus. Or a Langoran. A Prattlian. But he was none of those things, according to him.
Everyone knew that he was just fooling himself. He had the power deep within. The entire world had the same, as long as they had touched one of the stones of power at some point. But once his father set his mind on something, it latched onto him like a parasite. Bastion wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
His mother was a monster though. Of that, he was sure. Perhaps no
t the creatures of his nightmares, but close enough. She certainly made the Terrs hanging out in the woods nearby seem tame. Per his father’s expectations, she played the sweet and adoring housewife when he was at home, cooking him meals with tender and care, massaging his feet, lavishing him with praise…but as soon as he had departed, she transformed, embodying every letter of the word.
She donned her Sage robe like a judge and executioner, summoning a beam of light from the sky to engulf her. She manifested it before his eyes so quickly that he fell onto his butt the first time. Where there was once a large, spotless white apron covering her long and frilly yellow dress, there was now a red robe, with streaks of blue ripping across it like lightning. Her hair would go from long to short, and the tips would become curled, like snakes wrapping around a tree branch. Her eyes lost their merriment, and for the next minute, all she would do was stare at him. Intimidating him. Goading him.
He had taken the bait once, because back then he was stupid and naive. He thought that the woman who laughed and sang throughout the day was actually her. He believed that although her appearance had changed—her personality had not, for a Sage was said to be pure of heart and mind. Now he questioned that doctrine every morning.
The first time she had struck him across the cheek, it felt like his head was going to roll off its post. He went sprawling into the dead patches of grass, clutching his face hard and trying to fight back the hiccups. It hadn’t hurt physically, but a wound to his heart had been made. He couldn’t control the tears. Instead of wiping them away, he let them flow, turning toward his mother, and showing her the damage that had been done. She met his gaze with a regular dagger, plunging it hard through his left shoulder.
He screamed in shock as his mind flooded with questions. What was going on? Wasn’t he her child? Didn’t she love him anymore?
“You are going to heal that wound before your father comes home,” she said, pulling out the dagger swiftly. “I know you can do it.”
“Why did you do that?!” Bastion cried out.
“SHUT UP!” she roared in his face, the dagger in her right hand edging closer to his chin. “You’re lying. I saw you outside in the woods. You can manifest an eidolon.”
He didn’t know what to say. He thought it was his little secret. A glorious secret that he would reveal one day when the time was right. Maybe it would be defending a girl’s honor, or saving someone from a burning house. The best daydream was the one where the Kingdom of Allay was attacked, and all the Sages had left for an away mission. The villagers would be terrified and they would cry out for someone to save him. And then he would appear, standing before the intruders with an eidolon so powerful and massive, they would cower and run. Apparently, he had to beat his Mom first.
“I can,” he admitted. “But I didn’t want to tell you, and especially not Papa. He would hate me for it.”
“You’ve seen me transform,” she said as she stood up straight, the dagger no longer in striking distance. “I’ve sensed you watching.”
“I did see it once…but I didn’t think anything of it. You just transformed your clothes.”
“Does your father know about me? Did you say anything to him about it? Even if it was unintentional?”
“No,” Bastion replied truthfully. “I knew he would hate you, just like he would hate me.”
“It’s because he’s stubborn.”
“I guess,” Bastion’s eyes widened in alarm. He had tried to shrug his shoulders, but his left side had gone numb. Without hesitation, he began concentrating on closing the wound.
“If he wanted to, he could become a Sage. He could become anything he wanted.”
“I don’t know why he doesn’t want to,” Bastion replied.
“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “You can do what he can’t. Therefore, you’re going to be the man of the house from now on. So get up, and release your eidolon.”
“No,” Bastion said, his eyes became wet again. “You’re my mother.”
She slapped him across the cheek, but this time, there was no retort, whether physically or mentally. He accepted it. She slapped him again, and though it stung his heart even more, he braced himself for a follow-up. He couldn’t reveal his eidolon. Not now. She wouldn’t understand.
It was only by a miracle that his father had come home early that day. His leg had been bothering him and he had barely made it a mile before he headed back. His mother’s robe fell off of her as if it was made of the dirt beneath her feet. One moment it was there, and in the next, it was her yellow dress and apron all over again. Her signature smile spread across her face as she waved at Bastion to hurry up his healing process.
His father came over, kissed his wife on the cheek, and then turned to face his son, sitting in the dirt. All that was left was a dried out blood stain—no bigger than the palm of his hand, and a rip in his shirt.
“What happened there?” his father asked.
“He was cutting,” his mother sighed, showing his father the dagger. His father’s eyes went wide with horror. He turned to his son with a crestfallen gaze.
“Son, there’s a difference between those with eidolons and those without. The Sages…they can play around with swords, but that’s only because they are an extension of their souls. This dagger isn’t. You could seriously hurt yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. It won’t happen again,” he had said. But it did happen again. From that day on, his mother would “train him,” so that he could protect the family if intruders ever arrived. It made sense to him at first, but after a while, he wasn’t so sure if those were her true intentions. It was something about the way she swung her rapier-like eidolon—the rage that coursed through her fingers when she gripped the hilt. It wasn’t until a few months later that he realized that she had no noble intentions in their sessions. She aimed to wound, to maim—to do everything but kill. And whenever he was wounded, which was often, she would scream at him to heal himself as fast as possible, swinging her eidolon over the top of his head like a pendulum. Like it was all a sick game.
But through it all, he preserved. He took his beatings. He became better at dodging, and most of all, he kept his eidolon hidden. This just enraged her even more as the days rolled on, but he didn’t care.
For her safety, it was for the best.
But on this day—the good day—the day of reprieve....he would take no more.
He sneezed again, and wiped his hands onto his shirt furiously, like a spider had been crawling amongst his black, fine strands. For the first time ever, his mother waited for him to compose himself, and for some reason, he saw it as a sign. He decided that he could speak to her now. He was a man now. He was eighteen years old.
“How long are you going to keep this game up?” she sighed, sheathing her eidolon back into the side of her hip. “Just tell me already. Why won’t you show me your eidolon?”
“I was wondering when you would ask me,” he groaned, rising to his feet. “The reason why I won’t show it. You could have asked me a long time ago.”
“I’m your mother.”
“No, you’re not,” he replied with steady eyes. For some reason, she bit her lip. His words had hurt her, and he had to admit—a pang shuddered throughout his heart. Deep down, he still cared about how she felt, regardless of what had been done to him.
“All I had to do was ask?” she said, puzzled.
“That’s it,” Bastion replied. “You were my mother, after all.”
“It’s not that simple—asking.”
“I know,” he said. “I understand.”
“How could you possibly understand?” she scoffed, more out of disbelief than mockery.
“You’re all I’ve thought about every day for the years. I had to figure out why you hated me so much…but then I realized the truth. You don’t hate me. You hate yourself, and your life, and I was just someone to take it out on. You have all that power, but you can’t even do a thing with it. Not without losing the husband and the
life you’ve built up.”
Her jaw tensed, and she turned her head to look away from him.
“He hates Sages,” Bastion continued. “But that doesn’t mean he hates you. You should just tell him.”
“You don’t know that man like I do. He won’t understand. If anything, he’ll wonder why I lied to him all this time. No. The only thing I can do is still carry out my role in this household.”
“You may have been a housewife in the past, but ever since you released your eidolon, you’ve changed. You don’t want this life. Staying still won’t make things better.”
“Is this why you wouldn’t show me your eidolon?” she asked, turning back to face him. “Because of pity? Because knowing that there are two Sages in the family would just make it harder for me to live here? It’s all your sick way of making me want to leave?”
“No. That’s not it,” Bastion replied.
“Then why?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.” She shook her head and scowled at him in disgust.
“You and your father…both of you think I’m still just the housewife. As if I’m weak.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied, but his mother went after him again. The conversation had turned sour. There was no use pursuing it any longer. After all, it was the Good Day. The day he would be freed, one way or another.
He didn’t even see her unsheathe her eidolon from her body, but it was in his face just the same. She jabbed at him as if she was fencing, aiming for his face. The thin blade barely missed his cheek, his eye, and then his scalp. There was no doubt that she aimed to hurt him bad this time. She had never aimed for his face with her eidolon before.
Frustrated, she swiped at his neck, and he had to fall onto his back to dodge it. Right after his butt hit the dirt, he knew that it was time. He placed the palm of his right hand to his heart, and then he summoned it.
A flash of light cracked like a whip across the field, and his mother was blinded in an instant. Staggering backwards, he took hold of the hilt sticking out of his chest and pulled with all his might. The light subsided, and his mother’s anger dropped in an instant. All she could do was behold its wonder and power.
Of Heroes And Villains (Book 4) Page 1
