Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  “You made this choice. I have made mine. I will stop every Magi on this earth if it takes me a lifetime.”

  “I still love you,” Sarissa lied. Or, at least she thought she did when the words first tumbled out. Deep within her, beyond the pain and anger and betrayal, she still remembered how close they had been. She felt the loss of their sisterhood. No, she really did love her sister. This was about so much more than just hating Bethany. Bethany had just been in the way.

  The world dimmed.

  “Never forget that I took up Magic to protect you.”

  Bethany’s arms loosened and then she dumped Sarissa to the ground. Blood dripped from her sister’s mangled palms and flaps of meaty flesh and bone hung loosely. The world faded to shadow. It was over. Apexia would never take her into the wind. Sarissa’s spirit would die.

  I love you, Robert.

  Nothingness awaited.

  * * * * *

  Bethany dropped her sister, watching her fall to the ground in slow motion. Time continued slowing until it moved at a turtle’s pace. Sarissa’s blood seeped on the peddled surface, her lips muttering words no one would hear. Bethany looked around, feeling detached and alone. Bethany inspected her raised hands. Unusable. Perhaps even permanently ruined. She didn’t even have control over her fingers, caked and dripped in blood.

  She could see the waves of fodder stretched out around them, suspended in stopped time. Her allies had dwindled in numbers. They would not survive the night. The small circle of knights and priests would be eventually trampled. The pockets of resistance would be cut down. Sarissa would win. Magic would rule.

  Bethany cocked her head. None of the attackers moved. Blood did not drip from her hands. This place reminded her of how it felt when she’d infrequently spoken to her mother on the wind. Then, Bethany realized what was happening: She’d become the wind.

  She looked at her friends, frozen around her. Bleeding. Dying. She saw Arrago’s frightened eyes, crimson streaking his cheeks as if he’d cried blood.

  Her heart broke.

  Bethany had always thought it would be a conscious choice; to expose herself as the daughter of Apexia. But now at the end, there was no choice in it at all. She would stop the bloodshed, regardless of the consequences. She would be the Champion to the helpless and dying.

  “Enough.”

  The last of Bethany’s mental barrier collapsed. Time held no meaning. A tree caught her eye, and she imagined her feet, taking root, sinking in to the very heart of the earth itself. There, she found Power.

  She pulled it up, through the soil, and into her body. Her outstretched hands healed before her eyes, the blood drying, the flesh knitting back together.

  She looked at the temple, the flames frozen in time. The East tower had broken off from the main mountain already, now at the bottom of the ocean. The others could fall, too, crushing them all to death. The fire needed to stop.

  In the ancient tongue of the Creator Gods and the language of the prophecy, she whispered for rain. She stretched her healed hands out to her sides and whispered, commanding the clouds to form and bring moisture.

  She did not know how long her control over the Power would last, but she would hold on until unconsciousness overtook her. Or, death. Whichever came first. She closed her eyes and saw all of the threads that joined the world together. She found the string that controlled Allric’s life force and whispered, “We need you in the courtyard. Hurry. I do not know how long I can last.”

  He would come soon. He would save them. She just needed to hold on.

  Bethany looked around. Arrows paused in the air. Swords, explosions, anything or anyone magical paused.

  It was so…peaceful.

  So calm.

  Perhaps being a half-goddess wasn’t so bad after all.

  * * * * *

  Arrago waited for Apexia to escort him to the next existence. Minutes or hours passed; he didn’t know anymore. Death was certain. It surrounded him, oozed and splattered him. At least, he didn’t fear death now, though he dreaded the years before Bethany’s spirit would join him on the wind. He would miss her.

  Blood from his missing teeth seeped down the back of his throat and he gurgled. The explosions had slipped into the background. Sometimes, he didn’t hear them at all. The haze of unconsciousness pulled at him.

  He had imagined his death would involve being surrounded by great-grandchildren. Dying from a sliced leg, two arrow wounds, and countless small wounds on a battlefield never occurred to him. At least, the pain faded along with his consciousness. He felt so cold, though. He wished for a little more warmth.

  A bone-chilling shriek, unrelenting, pierced the silence of his mind.

  What was that sound?

  He forced his eyes open, uncertain if the image was real or a product of before-death hallucinations. The attackers had stopped, standing stunned, weapons at their sides. Glowing Magic arrows hung in the air. An odd, green light spread across the ground. He forced his head to turn. Bethany. The light emanated from her. And she was the one screaming in his mind.

  Bethany’s shriek pierced the night air and deep into Arrago’s soul. All around him, everyone froze in awe or fear, or both. The ground shook as though thunder came from below and not above. Bethany screamed in a language he did not understand and, in horror, he watched blinding white light, crackling and hissing, shoot from her body. Her screams grew louder, higher-pitched. Cool rain splashed his face. Then, water poured from the sky. Not rain. Sheets of water.

  Fear gripped Arrago in a way that he’d never experienced, not even when he’d seen the first spell cast. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t want to see this any longer. He begged Apexia to fetch him but his heart continued to beat in defiance.

  Then that voice, soft and sweet, whispered in his mind. “Arrago, forgive me. I am Apexia’s eldest daughter.”

  Arrago’s entire being recoiled in horror. His lover was the daughter of Apexia. He had defiled a holy woman. He could have handled her being a Magi more than the blessed child of the Gentle Goddess.

  He swallowed hard, and then gagged on the taste of his own blood, his stomach roiling with pain and grief. Why hadn’t Apexia struck him down for his sacrilege? His carnal desires had contaminated her daughter, the goddess.

  Goddess. He swallowed again at the word. She was no longer his lover. Could never be his lover. That’s why she had fought against his advances. This was the lie he felt each time she’d said no.

  He watched her outstretched arms shake, all the while snaking blue and green lights twisted and snarled around her. Her screams continued and she stood frozen. Color drained from her face. Terror twisted his insides, both for her and for him.

  Oh Gentle Goddess, what have I done to your holy child?

  Then, a massive giant charged in front of him, a Blessed Blade flashing before Arrago’s eyes. Seconds later, a wave of heavily armored soldiers came running, hacking, fighting. Several crushed his ankles and legs in the onslaught as they stepped on his limp body. It would only serve to hasten his death.

  Some of the soldiers stopped fighting when they saw Bethany. Allric shouted at people to kill—kill—KILL.

  “Bring them down!” Allric shouted at the top of his lungs, hacking his way closer to Bethany. “She can’t keep this up! Kill them all!”

  Bethany jerked and her screaming stopped. The lights around her dimmed, cracking and dying out.

  “Cover me!” Allric shouted again, moving to stand next to Bethany but not touching her. Even the great Allric was afraid of her. When the last of the light had faded from her, Bethany collapsed and Allric caught her in his waiting arms. Blood covered her. So much blood. It seeped into the ground like the rain that still fell around them.

  Allric lowered her. Wide-eyed but clearly unconscious, she stared blankly at Arrago. Even as the rain cleaned her face, more blood trickled from her nose, mouth, and ears. Tears of blood ran from her eyes, snaking down her dirty face.

  Her Magic or Pow
er or whatever it was had dissipated. What remained of the attackers came to life. Many of them ran, only to be killed by arrows or swords.

  A row of knights surrounded them, as Allric held a limp Bethany in his arms.

  “Bethany, wake up. Can you hear me?” Allric repeated, shaking her. “Oh, Apexia. Come on, Bethany. Wake up. Please. Please.” His voice cracked and Allric rocked her.

  Arrago knew his Bethany was missing. The life had been sucked from her. Haze and void was all that remained in her eyes.

  Just like in his.

  He reached out a hand toward her, his last words hissing through his lips with the last breath he managed to take. “I love you.”

  Darkness overtook him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The fire will blaze within her and illuminate the world.

  —Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet

  Arrago’s eyes flickered open. It took a moment for his vision to focus. High Priest Torius looked down at him and smiled.

  “Welcome back, Arrago.”

  He tried sitting up. The priest slipped a helping hand on his back to assist him. “Easy now. I’d like your insides to stay where they belong.”

  Arrago looked around. Endless rows of horizontal people covered the courtyard. In between, people paced and whispered. The temple, or rather what was left of it, stood silent, dead next to him.

  His eyes widened. “I’m not dead?”

  The priest smiled. “No, son. You are very much alive.”

  Arrago gasped and collapsed back on his bed. He didn’t want to be alive. Panic choked him. He had been so close to Apexia’s soothing arms…and away from dealing with Bethany.

  “How?”

  “Pearl healed you. You’ve been asleep for over a week. You lost a lot of blood. For a while, we weren’t even sure you’d ever wake up.”

  Arrago rolled on his side. A stabbing pain attacked his leg and he groaned.

  Torius held out a hand. “Careful. The healers couldn’t fully heal anyone. The surgeons still had to stitch up most of your leg. You’ll have quite a scar.”

  The smell of sweat and salty sea air mingled with the stench of ointment, causing him to cough. He was alive.

  “Kiner?” Arrago’s voice hesitant. “I saw him fall.”

  “Fighting an infection. Jovan, Eve, Allric, Erem, Edmund…all of your friends are safe.”

  Relief filled him. Then, he realized a name was missing from the list.

  “How is…she?”

  Torius sighed and turned away. Arrago rolled over, gritting his teeth against the hot pain, to see Bethany sleeping on the bed roll next to him. “She hasn’t woken. Eve says Bethany isn’t ready to join the mortal world yet. She’s scared we’ll all treat her differently, so she’s refusing to release her spirit from the wind.”

  “Won’t we?” He couldn’t imagine treating her any other way. “She is Apexia’s blood.”

  A sad, forlorn smile crossed Torius’ face. “She is just like you or I. My darling Bethany.”

  Arrago recalled the day in his study, when Torius demanded he find out about Bethany. Betrayal stabbed him. “You knew.”

  “Yes, some of us knew. Allric, Jovan, Aneese, Kiner. Her greatest fear was losing the life she’s made for herself.” Torius’s expression hardened. “Don’t break her heart.”

  Arrago remained silent. What could he say? He stared at his lover’s motionless face. She was so beautiful with her red hair tangled underneath her.

  She had spoken to his mind, telling him not to be afraid. But even that memory made him shiver with fear.

  He blinked. “Were you lying when you said you delivered Bethany?”

  A weak grin flicked on his face. “I am the High Priest. Who else would she ask for help?”

  Arrago struggled to stand. He needed to walk, to think. Torius pushed him back down to the bed roll, firm hands refusing to give way.

  “Son, you lost a lot of blood. It was only through Apexia’s grace the healers brought you back. Your leg is being held together with linen stitches. We don’t have enough healers to look after everyone. If you move too much, you’ll lose your leg. Now, rest.”

  Arrago obeyed. He wondered why the priest had been sitting with him. He was nothing. But then he realized that the priest wasn’t sitting with him. Torius had been sitting with Bethany.

  * * * * *

  Three weeks later and Bethany still remained unconscious. Arrago sat with her as much as he could. He had enough guilt; he didn’t need the extra weight of her dying without him being there. At least Allric kept him busy with writing letters and reports. That helped keep him from going mad.

  Arrago lay on his stomach next to Bethany. Most of the wounded had either died or recovered, so the hospice had been moved under what was left of the south terrace. The inside of the temple was deemed unsafe and only the stonemasons and engineers were allowed within. Two of its five mighty towers had collapsed into the ocean the night of the attack. The third had crashed down the cliffs and into the sea a few days later. The tower with Bethany’s room now rested at the bottom of the ocean. The Temple of Tranquil Mercies had died in a blaze of Magic.

  At least the temple fared better than Orchard Park. Only two thousand of its ten thousand inhabitants survived the fire that took days to control. If it hadn’t been for Bethany’s waterworks, it would have burned completely.

  But the shock of Apexia’s home being destroyed paled next to the rumors about Bethany. Behind him, a row of people prayed for her safe return to this existence. If Eve was correct and Bethany was hiding, he could believe it. She never wanted to be a religious icon. She wanted to be a soldier. But people could not control their feelings towards her. He could not control his feelings, conflicted as they were.

  He stared at her and wondered how he could ever say good-bye.

  * * * * *

  It is time for you to return, my daughter.

  Mama, I am not ready.

  You are not dead. Go join the living.

  There is nothing there for me anymore.

  Stop being a coward and go face the crowd.

  Bethany’s eyes snapped opened and she awoke with a start. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gasped to bring air into her dry lungs.

  Jovan pressed against her shoulders. “Shh. Calm yourself.

  She grabbed his face with both hands. “I’m alive.” It was more of a shock than a statement of fact. “How long was I out?”

  “Nearly a month.”

  “Oh.” She forced her muscles to relax. “I’m hungry.”

  Jovan raised an earthen mug to her lips. “Drink this. Do you remember anything?”

  She thought about his question as she sipped the salty broth. Of course she remembered. In fact, she’d remembered entirely too much. The past few weeks she’d spent asleep, she’d wound up reliving every single battle she’d fought in. She’d watched her friends get slaughtered, cut down in the heat of the battle. Her blades piercing her sister. And every time she had thought it was over, she would slip into another nightmarish memory.

  “I remember it all.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “I assume everyone knows?”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “Sarissa?”

  Jovan shrugged. “Your…fireworks burned a lot of them and a lot from both sides were,” Jovan grimaced, “crushed. Arrago said he saw you kill her. Apexia’s ass, Beth, I am so sorry you had to do that.”

  “Arrago?” She let out a breath. “He made it?”

  A weary, but genuine smile curled Jovan’s lips. He motioned to someone in the distance. “He nearly lost his leg, but he’s going to make it.”

  She turned her head and caught sight of rubble around her. “The temple?”

  “She’ll be fixed up again, don’t you worry. Rest.”

  Bethany shook her head. “No, I want to wait for Arrago.”

  “He’s coming.” Jovan held her hand. She closed her eyes in hope Jovan wouldn’t speak. She knew what was a
bout to happen. It was one of the nightmares she had relived countless times. Arrago would leave her, and he would hate her for eternity.

  “Bethany?” He crouched beside her. He was so handsome, even with his scruffy beard.

  She opened her eyes to see the wide, scared eyes of her lover. Her lip quivered as she ran the back of her hand along his patchwork beard. “You forgot to shave.”

  An awkward chuckle escaped him. “I’ve been busy.”

  They stared at each other in silence. As the seconds passed, Bethany’s gut knotted tighter until she finally said, “So you know.”

  “Yes.” He looked ashamed and scared and amazed all at once. “You lied to me.”

  She tried to slip her hand over his but he pulled away. “Arrago, please. No one was supposed to know.”

  “Others knew, but not me. I’m just the man who warmed your bed.”

  She didn’t fight the tears that trickled down her face. “I’m sorry.”

  Arrago shook his head and he spoke through gritted teeth. “You knew I would never have fallen in love with you if I’d know the truth.”

  Angry desperation welled inside her. “I love you. I gave my body to you.”

  “And I desecrated all that is holy and sacred.”

  Her guts churned and the salty soup threatened to come back up. “I am not a temple, Arrago.” Her muscles clenched.

  He looked down, but not before she saw the tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t do this, not with you.”

  “Please. Don’t leave me. I need you.” Tears blurred her vision.

  “Edmund Greyfeather is leaving for Taftlin in the morning. I’m going with him.” Arrago did not meet her eyes. “I love you, Bethany.” He did not look back. He just walked away.

  Rolling over so that she could not see his back turned to her, Bethany did not bother to hold back her sobs. Everything had been lost. She’d lost it all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Diamond will not waiver. We, The Creator Gods, put Our Trust in her.

  —The Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet