The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 4-6

by Brian D. Anderson

  Gewey and Kaylia set about healing those they were able to, not stopping until dusk. Exhausted, they were led by Linis and Dina to a small fire where the others waited. The army was camped about a mile away, and Lyrial had commanded that no one should disturb Gewey until the following morning.

  “If you are too weary, talk can wait,” offered Linis.

  Gewey shook his head. “No. It can’t. I can manage for a time. My strength isn’t completely gone.”

  They took their place beside the fire where a bowl of hot stew and a bottle of wine were waiting. Once they’d finished their meal, Gewey leaned in and stared into the fire.

  “I never thought I would see so much bloodshed,” he muttered. “And there will be more to come.”

  “How is it you are here?” asked Dina. “We thought you were in the west.”

  “The Oracle of Manisalia told me to come,” he replied. “She said you would be destroyed if I did not.”

  “The Oracle?” said Lee. “I had heard she vanished.”

  “She was in hiding,” said Gewey. “She is with Felsafell now, though she sacrificed her safety to send me to you.”

  “The Oracle... Felsafell…” Dina shook her head. “So many things have happened since we saw you last.”

  Gewey nodded and recounted his adventures, omitting only Kaylia’s pregnancy. The tale continued on well into the night, and soon it became clear that his fatigue was growing. When he finished Lee stared at him for a moment before bursting into boisterous laughter.

  “It is little wonder that we have heard your name spoken of so often,” he said. “An entire fortress of Vrykol destroyed, the Oracle revealing her true nature, and as for Felsafell - I always suspected that there was something odd about him. But to think he has walked the earth for so long…”

  “Your power is amazing,” said Linis. “And it is no surprise that the enemy fears you. Still, you cannot be everywhere at once. What do you plan to do next?”

  “Once I have seen you safely to Althetas,” Gewey replied. “I will seek out the Dark Knight and destroy him.”

  “How will you reach him?” asked Lee. “You can’t simply walk into Angrääl and knock on his door.”

  Gewey shrugged. “I might do just that, though I hope he will come to me.”

  Jacob cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I must ask you this.” He paused, unsure what to say next.

  Lee squeezed his son’s shoulder and told Gewey of what had happened to his wife. “If what I was told is true…”

  “If I can help, naturally I will,” said Gewey. “But I must tell you that I am only just discovering the extent of my power. And so far the flow of the spirit has been difficult for me to control. I cannot promise that I would not do her more harm than good.”

  “All I ask is that you try,” said Jacob.

  “I swear it.” Gewey forced a weary smile. “Now, before all of my strength is gone, I would hear your tales.”

  Each took their turn in telling Gewey and Kaylia what had happened to them. Gewey scowled when hearing about the invasion of Sharpstone, but his heart lightened when he was told of the marriage between Dina and Linis, and of Dina’s reunion with her mother.

  “And where is your mother now?” he asked her.

  “With Lyrial,” Dina replied. “You will meet her soon.”

  When all the tales had been told, Gewey leaned back and smiled.

  “It would seem we have all had adventures worthy of songs,” said Linis. “And now we are all back together again.”

  “All but Maybell,” corrected Gewey. “Though I am glad she is not here to share in our hardship.”

  “Based on the short time I knew her,” said Jacob. “I would wager she could keep pace.”

  “There is little doubt of that,” agreed Millet, smiling. “But I do wish her peace and safety. She has earned it.”

  “Agreed,” said Gewey. “And once we arrive in Althetas, it will be our duty to see that she gets it.”

  “I must admit,” said Lee. “Until I saw you on top of the hill today, I thought my end was at hand. Now hope is renewed, and I feel in my heart that our victory will come soon.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Dina as Linis pulled her close. “Now that we are together again, nothing can stand before us. Especially not with the mighty Darshan leading the way. Though to me you will always be Gewey.”

  “I never wanted to be anyone else,” he said. “At least, not in the eyes of my friends. And regardless of how strong I may become, my true power flows from all of you.”

  There was a long silence.

  “I think it is time we slept,” said Kaylia, dragging Gewey to his feet. “We have a long road ahead and plenty of time for talk.”

  After bidding everyone else goodnight, they walked a few yards to where two bedrolls had been placed around a small bundle of wood. Gewey lit a fire and they lay down, allowing the warmth to soothe their bodies. The others were still gathered together talking quietly, the excitement of the day still running hot through their veins.

  “Your mind is troubled,” whispered Kaylia, stroking Gewey’s hair.

  “They seem so different now,” he replied. “In a way, almost fragile. Even Lee. It’s strange.”

  “You see them through different eyes now, that is why,” said Kaylia. “Compared to you, they are fragile. At least in body. But their power is in their spirit and love for each other. And for you.”

  Gewey peered into her eyes. “And I love them all in return. Though not as I love you.” He kissed her lips with tender passion.

  “Of course not,” she said, the hint of a laugh in her voice. “But still, it is enough. It is the one thing our enemy lacks, and it is his greatest weakness. He exists without love.”

  “I know.” Gewey closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift. “I just fear that when the time comes, love won’t be able to protect them. Nor will I. Or possibly to do so will mean that Gewey must die, and Darshan must live.”

  The memory of Kaylia’s vision shot through their bond and a pang of anxiety entered them both.

  “I will not allow that to happen. I will keep you with me.” Kaylia’s voice tensed with resolve.

  “But at what cost?” Gewey’s voice trailed off, his mind wandering into the realm of dreams.

  Kaylia stared at his sleeping form. “I will keep you right here.” She closed her eyes, knowing that the morning would herald the beginning of their final march. Once they reached Althetas, Gewey would seek his destiny.

  Then, one way or another, the war would finally end.

  End Book Four

  Acknowledgements

  Jonathan and Eleni Anderson, George Panagos, Vincentine Williams, Gerald and Donna Anderson, Hunter and Sarah Anderson, Bobby and Bobbie Anderson, George Stratford, The Ramos family, the DiBatista family, the Gnyp family, Helen Paton and "K", Cassidy Webb, Tom Riddell, Jen Frith-Couch, Alex Harris, Jacob and Elizabeth Bunton, Jenny Bunton and everyone who has supported me.

  I love you all!

  About the Authors

  Brian D. Anderson was born in 1971, and grew up in the small town of Spanish Fort, AL. He attended Fairhope High, then later Springhill College where his love for fantasy grew into a lifelong obsession. His hobbies include chess, history, and spending time with his son.

  Jonathan Anderson was born in March of 2003. His creative spirit became evident by the age of three when he told his first original story. In 2010 he came up with the concept for The Godling Chronicles. It grew into an exciting collaboration between father and son. Jonathan enjoys sports, chess, music, games, and of course, telling stories.

  The Godling

  Chronicles

  Book Five

  “Madness of the Fallen”

  Written by Brian D. Anderson

  Original concept by Jonathan Anderson

  The Godling Chronicles (Book Five) Madness of the Fallen

  By

  Brian D. Anderson

  Original concept by Jonathan Ander
son

  Copyright © Brian D. Anderson 2014

  Published by: Longfire Press

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Dedication

  For Kyle DiBattista. May your future hold a life magic and wonders. I have no doubt that all your dreams will come true.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Prologue

  Basanti knelt at the edge of the tree line, watching with tear filled eyes as a farmer tilled the soft, rich soil of his field, his horse tossing its head up and down in protest at the crack of the reins and weight of the plowshare. In the far distance, a woman and two young children – no older than three and four – were busy feeding the chickens running free in front of a dilapidated dwelling.

  “Why do you do this to yourself?” asked a hushed voice from behind her. “Why do you still come here?”

  “It’s gone, Yanti,” she replied through stifled sobs. “It’s gone.”

  “It’s been more than fifty years,” he said, kneeling beside her. His voice was tender and understanding as he placed his arm around her and pulled her close. “People were already settling in this area even then.”

  Basanti laid her head on her brother’s shoulder. “I know. I should have moved them years ago. It’s my fault.”

  “There was nothing to move,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “Only stone markers. Their bodies wasted away a long time ago.”

  “I know,” she repeated. “But it comforted me to know that this place was undisturbed. And now that the end is coming…” She looked into Yanti’s eyes, a sad smile on her lips. “I just wanted to see it one last time.”

  “The end is not coming,” he told her sternly. “They won’t find us.”

  “We’re the last.” Her voice trembled. “How can you think we’ll escape?” She looked a final time over the field where once, long ago, she had buried their parents and siblings. Then, with effortless grace she rose to her feet and turned to the forest. “They hate us too much to allow us to live. They’re monsters.”

  Yanti moved in front of her and took her hands. “They’re fools and brutes. And I will not allow them or anyone else to harm you. I swear it.”

  “Don’t you see?” said Basanti. “They have enslaved the humans and hunted us to the brink of extinction. There is nothing that can stop them. Not even the gods.”

  Yanti’s lip curled and he sniffed with contempt. “The gods don’t care about us…or anything else. It’s the gods who allowed the elves to slaughter us. It’s the gods who allowed the humans to be turned into a race of slaves…and I hate them.”

  “Don’t say that,” she scolded. “It was the gods who gave us a new life.”

  Yanti glared. “And now we are fighting desperately to keep it.”

  Basanti looked deeply into her brother’s eyes for a moment and smiled. “Whatever happens, I’m glad you are with me.”

  He returned the smile and embraced her. “As am I. Had you not convinced Pósix to change me, I would be dust in the field as well. For that, at least, I am grateful.”

  They made their way through the forest and around the small farm. Yanti stopped from time to time to listen for signs of elf patrols. They were heading north to the mountains where they hoped the rough terrain and harsh climate would discourage those who still pursued them. By nightfall, both of them felt it was best to continue, their endurance not having reached its limits. The moon was full in the cloudless sky, but a cool breeze from the north caused Basanti to retrieve a wool blanket from her pack and wrap it tightly around herself.

  Yanti looked at his sister with concern. “We can stop and build a fire if you would like.”

  Basanti gave a slight shiver and then laughed. “I’m fine. But I never did like the cold, even when I was a girl.”

  Yanti chuckled. “I remember.”

  Childhood memories of crawling into bed with Yanti on cold winter nights flashed through her mind. He was the eldest and the first to have his own bed. She had always felt safe with him. She loved her other three brothers and older sister, but Yanti understood her far better than anyone. He was always kind and gentle, even when she was being annoying. That was why she had begged Pósix to change him. The thought of immortality without Yanti had been unbearable.

  They paused beneath a thick oak to take a short meal of honeyed flatbread and dried apricots. Suddenly, Yanti’s back went stiff and he leapt to his feet. Basanti quickly moved to his side and listened carefully.

  “Elves,” whispered Yanti almost inaudibly.

  Basanti heard it too. A group of six elves was moving stealthily through the brush a quarter mile to the north. She prayed that they would pass them by, but in less than a minute it was clear her prayer would go unheeded. The elves split into three groups and began to circle around their position. Her heart sank. Even with their immense speed, she and her brother would not be able to escape. Though brutes, elves were expert trackers, and their speed in the forests was unparalleled.

  Yanti reached in his belt and drew a small dagger.

  Basanti looked at him in shock. “You mustn’t. It’s forbidden.”

  “What would you have me do?” he shot back. “I will not allow them to harm you.”

  “I don’t know, but I would rather die than have you do this.” Her voice was soft, but filled with resolve. She reached out and took the blade from his hand, tossing it quickly onto the ground as if it had burned her skin. Her lip curled in disgust. “We will not become what they accuse us of being.”

  Grumbling in frustration, Yanti took hold of Basanti’s hand. “Then we must run.”

  The words had barely passed his lips when the elves rushed toward them. Although still several hundred yards away, they were covering the distance with blinding speed. Yanti grabbed his sister, shoving her ahead of him. They ran left in an attempt to pass between the elves before they were able to close in. The trees whizzed by as they deftly threaded the dense forest, and for a moment he thought they might make it. Then, from another quarter mile away, he heard the nimble footfalls of eight more elves drawing near.

  Yanti let out a primal scream and ran even harder, passing Basanti and dragging her behind him. They managed to slip between the first six pursuers, but the elves ahead spread out while those behind regrouped and gave chase. Fear gripped their hearts. It was rapidly becoming clear that escape was impossible.

  An arrow struck Basanti’s shoulder, sending her crashing to the ground. In a single motion, Yanti jerked out the arrow and lifted his sister to her feet. She screamed as the shaft ripped free. But her cry had barely faded when another deadly missile struck, this time into her left thigh. She dropped to her knees.

  The song of steel sliding from scabbards echoed through the for
est as the elves came into view, their fierce gazes fixed resolutely on their prey while spreading out to encircle the pair. Basanti looked desperately at Yanti. The sight of fear in her eyes sent him into a rage unlike anything he had ever experienced. The sinews of his legs tightened and he sprang forward just as the first attacker reached them.

  Yanti’s fist smashed into his jaw, bones cracking under the impact. The elf’s head twisted and his body was sent flying several feet before crashing onto the forest floor. The other elves slid to a halt, stunned expressions on their faces.

  Reaching down, Yanti picked up the short blade dropped by the unconscious elf. He took a step back, placing himself between the remaining elves and his sister. He could hear her weeping and begging for him to stop. But it was far too late for that.

  “You shall hunt us no longer!” Yanti shouted defiantly. This was the first time he had held such a weapon. It felt strangely awkward in his hand.

  “This one fights!” yelled one of the elves.

  Yanti did not wait for them to recover their senses. He charged at his closest adversary, hacking wildly. The strength of his blow made up for his lack of skill, and for the first time he caused blood to flow. His blade cut his foe nearly in half, from the shoulder to hip. In a single motion he jerked it free and ran headlong at the next elf. Warm spots of his enemy’s blood splattered across his face, stirring in his heart a wild lust to spill more. He could feel himself growing stronger as seconds passed like minutes, and smiled inwardly at the sensation.

  Two elves closed in, but his new found power made them appear as fumbling children. He gutted them both with lethal grace and unbridled fury. He searched for another opponent, but the rest had backed away, hurrying to remove the bows from their backs. Yanti wasn’t about to give them that chance. He spanned the distance in a flash, taking the arm off one elf and the head off another. Then he heard Basanti scream out in terror. Spinning around, he saw another of the enemy holding a blade across her throat.