by T R Tells
Game Of Survival
Final Destiny trilogy
Book One
Copyright © 2019 by T.R. Tells
All rights reserved. This book 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 or scholarly journal.
First Printing: 2018
T.R. Tells
www.trtellsbooks.com
New York, 12550
DEDICATION
To my dad, I love and miss you dearly. And to my mother, you’ve raised me to be a strong, independent woman, and honestly, thank you for encouraging my siblings and me to read; it made me a better writer—Also, I took out some of the f-words for you.
PREFACE
Hello dear reader, you don’t know how glad I am that you have picked up this book. I can’t per se remember the very first instance this story came to light (my brain operates in mysterious ways) but like most stories, it started with an idea – separate ideas at that – but most importantly, the reality of the world.
I am the type of person who will stand up to someone being bullied or disrespected; whether it is because of their race, skin color, the way they think or speak, or their sexual orientation. The characters that are in my story portray somewhat of how I feel about the world and the mistreatment of others. However, beyond the darkness, there is always light. I hope when you read this book you can feel that extension portrayed within these chapters.
You are never alone, and you will always be loved no matter what.
PROLOGUE
The Month of Solstice, Year 655 of Ya’skr
King Godfrey IV of Kingsland, fourth of his name, the Viper and the Conqueror sat upon his throne. He gripped the arms so tightly, his knuckles were white. He had excused his court officials and advisers because of the sudden appearance of an unusual guest. It was unlike him and frankly unwise to allow such a stranger to enter into his home, unannounced, but this stoic and unusual guest, a woman named Karma, with startlingly white hair. Her milky-white complexion smooth as porcelain; her eyes were a bright violet and were spell-binding capable of drawing victims. She wore a simple robe and a cloak with a cowl pulled over her head.
But the most interesting about her as she claimed to accurately predict his future.
However, things were not going quite as he would hope.
"No, that cannot be!" King Godfrey’s cry echoed in the throne’s halls.
He leaned forward in his chair, his eyebrows knitted together. He had fought for his throne and survived through battles and plagues. How could one measly vision crumble everything he had built?
“Surely, you are a fool if you think I have come to tell you lies. My visions are never faulty. Make no mistakes.”
King Godfrey gritted his teeth. He didn't like the woman talking back to him. If anyone else were to speak curtly to him, he would have hung them.
“Who is this person you see? What kind of power do they have that I cannot stop?”
Speaking to the king was not only time consuming but draining. However, she would do as her master commanded, which meant making sure the Mundane was happy, even though she, herself, could destroy him within seconds. It was all going according to plan. The woman twisted her lip and very discreetly rolled her eyes. She slightly bowed and bent the knee.
“Alas, I am afraid it is something you cannot stop.”
King Godfrey furrowed his brows. "There is nothing that I cannot handle. I am the king. You will reread my fortune and give me a way to destroy my enemies!" His yelling mounted with each word that came out of his lips.
“Now, tell me who...”
Karma smiled slightly. “Very well. You may feel a sting once the vision enters your mind, your Highness.”
King Godfrey didn't want to hear any more talk. He merely waved his hand and mumbled, "Just do it."
He leaned back on his throne and folded his hands together, waiting for the woman to work her magic. Karma’s violet eyes glowed brightly, and she projected the vision into the mind of the King:
King Godfrey stood at the gates of his kingdom where he conducted his speeches. There were Kingsland Guards on either side of him, but their faces were invisible. A crowd stood out front filled with the common folk of Kingsland. They cheered and shouted when he smiled at them, his eyes gleamed and radiated with power. He wore a large golden crown adorned with sparkling jewels. Gazing at his radiating presence, the crowd started applauding. Like the Kingsland Guards, the King could not see any individual face, they either had no face or were blurred out completely. The King waved to the unseen crowd.
From King Godfrey’s peripheral, however, he saw a shadow. It whizzed into his line of sight. The shadow was a person who wore a tan cloak, a hood shielding their face. Before King Godfrey could react, the Shadow of the person struck him; it moved fast with the swiftness and removed what he thought was a curved dagger, but in fact, was a hand. A demonic hand that pulsated red and had sharp elongated fingers. There were a few gold tendrils that sprouted from the body of the assassin, and it spread out wide as if to consume him.
The King's face paled, and his eyes grew wide. The shadowed assassin came upon him and sent the demonic hand straight through his torso. The red and gold eyes of the assassin glared at him with malice and hatred.
The vision faded returning King Godfrey to his throne. Gasping, he grabbed his chest, his forehead dripped with sweat—he had never known fear; he had always been the one to instill it.
Karma waited for the King to snap out from his reverie; who had not very long ago been red in the face, was now quivering in fear from the vision she implanted in his mind.
“As I have said, you will be in danger by the hand of magic, but I have a way for you to change your fate.”
King Godfrey lifted his head. He dropped his hands to his side, and the worry that had been on his face relaxed. With his lips pressed together and his eyes, half closed, the King composed himself. He hated to let anyone see him nervous, let alone a woman. He stood on his feet and glared at Karma. She did not flinch or quiver, like many people who feared the King did.
"Who was that assassin with magic? I have pushed all Magi out of the borders of Kingsland; the Fae and the Horian’s reside in their respective territories, the Roma are long extinct, and I have forced the Kobolds out of the city after the war; many of which have even died from the Ire Scourge!"
King Godfrey balled his hands into tight fists. He wanted to know who could be so powerful that they would be able to wipe him out and possess demonic energy. The king had fought wars and came out alive. He had heard people in the past speak of the Aesir and Asur gods, but he didn't believe such deities even existed. If something could cause his death within seconds, he would make sure that it would not happen.
Karma knew the King was scared, even if he didn’t quiver anymore; men were fickle creatures, especially ones who wanted power.
“If you do not want that vision to come to pass,” she started to say in a matter of fact tone. The King’s brow rose, eager as he waited for the woman’s answer.
“On the second year of Rainbloom, arrest what Magi still reside in your realm. Women carry the Magi genre and thus produce breeds with gold irises. With those prisoners have them fight in the pits, or dispose of them, then everything will fall into place from there.”
King Godfrey watched Karma leave out the doors, and he sat back down on his throne. He rubbed his chin and thought back on the woman's words.
It is done, my Lord, Karma telepathically communicated to an unknown source.
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
PREFACE
PROLOGUE
Chap
ter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Fifty
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Acknowledgments
Part One
Chapter One
Month of Rainbloom, Year 657 of Ya’skr
When the door of the small cottage slammed, it made a little girl jump. She had been sitting on a stool, knitting a scarf for Winter's Eve. The young ten-year-old girl, Thea, had not expected her older sister to come barging into their home. Dominya had been tending to the crops since she was twenty, and as an adult, she had inherited her parents' farm after they passed away. Dominya and Thea were one of the last Roma breeds of Magi children. Dominya didn't know much about her heritage, only what she learned from her mother, and then what she learned from her mother she taught Thea.
Dominya darted around the living room. Looking for something on the table. With her puffy eyes and her red cheeks, her stringy brown hair flowed over her shoulders and along her back. When she couldn't find what she needed on the table, she went over to the shelf that was against the pale, white walls.
The look of panic on Dominya's wide grayish-blue eyes made goosebumps travel up Thea's arm. Thea had never seen her sister this so frantic, as her sister was usually calm and reserved. There was never a time when she seemed nervous or unsure of herself. Not only had she taught Thea how to plant; she had taught her how to fend for herself.
Thea's fingers trembled. as she clutched the scarf to her chest to keep them from moving. She licked her lips and watched Dominya reach her hand onto the very top of the shelf where she remembered she last left the item she misplaced.
"D-Dominya?" Thea weakly called out. “Dee?”
***
Dominya turned to meet her sister’s eyes that resembled her own. She didn't answer her. Thea continued to stare at her sister until she saw something glinting in Dominya’s hand: a silver-tipped blade with a wooden handle.
"I need you to sit down and hold still, Thea."
Dominya stepped toward Thea who was too terrified to move, and stared at the blade, her pupils dilated. A warm sensation ran between Thea’s legs and dripped onto the carpet, leaving a large dark stain on the thresh rug.
Dominya walked over to Thea and gripped her shoulder hard. She pushed her back down onto the stool. Dominya hated being forceful. She never once beat her sister or yelled at her. Yet, she pushed Thea's head down and brought the blade to Thea's hair. When the silver blade touched her hair, the sound of shredding and grunts of pain could be heard. It only took a few seconds for Thea's crinkly, dark brown locks to fall on top of the large stain imprinted into the rug.
Dominya walked and crouched in front of her sister. Dominya had been her only protector, shielded her from danger and made sure she didn't have to experience pain or loss. Thea looked at her sister’s hand where there was a burn mark, realizing why she had been hearing grunting sounds of pain; anything of silver or iron made some Magi have a negative reaction to it. This knowledge alone made Thea fear that something was amiss that Dominya would injure herself knowing the consequences.
"Listen to me, Thea," Dominya said. "You can’t be Thea anymore, do you understand? Your name is Theo."
Thea tilted her neck to the side, furrowing her brows. She didn't know why her sister had cut off her hair or why she wanted her to be called a boy's name. It didn't make sense to the little girl, and when she tried to open her mouth to ask a question, nothing came out. Dominya looked away from her sister and tucked the loose hairs under the rug. She looked back up and smiled at Thea, but the smile did not reach her eyes.
"I know you are terrified. I am too, sweetie," she whispered. Dominya grabbed her sister’s trembling fingers. She reached her hand up and rubbed the side of Thea's unevenly shaved head.
"Dee, what's going on? You're scaring me," Thea whimpered. She had finally found her voice.
Dominya’s eyes welled up with tears again and trickled down her olive-toned cheeks.
Thea reached out her hands to wipe her sister’s tear-stained face.
"I had a vision. The Kingsland Guards are going to take me away and anyone with Magi blood in them."
Dominya shoulders shook.
Thea didn't know how to react. She only shook her head in disbelief, her eyes becoming glassy as tears leaked out.
"No! They can’t do that. They can’t take you away from me." Thea threw her arms around her sister's neck and squeezed. "I-I won't let them! Don't go!"
Dominya stared at the ceiling, the gold iris in her grayish-blue eyes reflected in the light. She gripped her arms around her sister’s tiny body but pulled Thea away to not linger too long in their emotions.
Dominya gripped onto her sister's forearms, shaking her.
"Pay attention, Theo! The soldiers are looking for only women and anyone with gold irises. You aren’t of age, you have two more years left before your magic awakens, so they won’t see the gold in your eyes, not yet. You must masquerade as a boy. This disguise won’t last forever, but it will protect you from the world of men. Please, do your best to stay hidden in the shadows and survive. Do not fight back, as Roman’s the more magic we try and summon, the more we will absorb negativity."
Tears continued to stream down Thea's face as Dominya held her.
"Will you survive for me, baby?"
Thea opened her mouth and saliva stuck to her lips. She didn’t understand the situation, or what was being said to her, but she knew what Dominya’s desperate and shaky breaths conveyed. Before Thea could reply, the sound of clip-clopped hooves was followed by a carriage creaking to a stop.
"Dammit," Dominya cursed and gripped her sister’s shoulder harder. She pulled her away from their embrace, Thea tried to return to her sister’s arms, but Dominya pushed her back. "You must survive and tell no one of what you are. Do you understand? Being a woman is dangerous and having magic in Kingsland is a death sentence. Never reveal who you are."
Thea nodded.
Dominya let out a sigh of relief.
The Kingsland Guards had been going from house to house, stashing mainly women with golden irises into their wagon. Dominya and Thea's home was one of the few left. They barged into the house slamming the door off its hinges. They wore the House of Kharma'
s colors: A long red, blue, and white frock under silver chain mail with the King's symbol—a snake wrapped around a crown—on each corner of the material.
"You, woman!"
Two soldiers grabbed Dominya's shoulders and forcibly pushed Thea, throwing her to the floor. Thea cried out as she watched the men grab Dominya's cheeks and craned her neck up to peer into her eyes.
The Guards nodded to each other, confirming that she was a Magi.
The glint of the silver blade caught Thea’s attention. She stared at its serrated edges, and an insistent voice told her, pick it up. Thea quickly grabbed the blade’s handle, she flinched at burning sensation on her palm but hid the blade with haste under her clothing.
"What of the boy, sir?" One of the Kingsland Guards, a brown-haired guard who held Dominya asked. He placed her arms behind her back, and Dominya hissed.
Thea looked up at the Kingsland Guard leader; General Bishop Mar Donias.
He walked over to Thea, slowly. He looked down and squared his eyes at her. His curly gray hair fell into his cold and unfriendly eyes: with one-midnight black iris and the other a vibrant green. A cicatrix ran down the length of his left eye. The old scar looked broad and washed-out, like an old fish bone, as if it had never been stitched or treated.
Thea's face paled, gripping tightly onto the blade's handle.
“Get away from them, you—”
Dominya hissed and tried to pull out of the Guard’s grip to focus on the leader with the scarred eye, but the third guard, on the other side of her, with black tapered hair, smacked her across her face. Dominya’s cheek immediately turned red and her cheek bled from the small cut from the Guard’s gauntlet hand.
Thea yelped and flinched when the Kingsland Guard struck her sister; tears brimmed her eyes as she saw her sister’s blood drip down her cheek and slowly trickled under her skin. General Mar Donias Bishop stood in front of Thea, pulling Thea’s attention away from her sister and at him.
Thea craned her neck up to look at the giant-sized man.
Mar Donias instilled fear into any man, and this boy was no different. Kids were all the same to him, even the ones who he stripped from their parents—they cried and pleaded, begged for him to release their mother or their sister.
