Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy

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Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy Page 41

by Riley Westbrook


  Lov thundered his voice across the plain, back at his army. “Bring them over, Nord! Keep your distance from the farmers!” Lov turned back to Jacob and Hakim. “I suggest you convince them this isn't an attack.”

  The young, blue-gray general sprinted back towards his army, leaving Jacob and Hakim staring stunned after him. The large man gestured after the young half-elf. “He's arrogant.” He said to his skinny brown friend, then turned back to the farmers calling out. “I wouldn't fight him if I were you. I've seen him open a hole to the pits of Hell itself. He's usually peaceful, as long as you don't attack him.” He waved his arm, telling the others to disarm and spread the word. A way was opened for Lov's forces to stream onto the grassy plain, with some farmers protesting until the loudest voices spoke out, passing the order to make room. The protesters left sullenly.

  Lov's back lines didn't move quickly enough. Titans ripped through the sand, grabbing ankles and feet and dragging whatever they held to the ground. The metal of their armor was pitted and scoured from their journey. Lov lost a thousand men and women in seconds. Titans rose from the dirt, pulling their immense swords from their backs. They cut and slashed at anything within range. Some of the elder refugees threw themselves in front of younger family members, sacrificing themselves so the younglings could escape.

  Lov could see what was happening through the crowd, as he approached the first people crossing the plains. He lept, jumping onto the heads of the orcs riding the Anuunaki, running across them. His Talons were lost in the push, but others came from the army. At the sight of them, the streaming men opened up to allow their young general through the rush. Lov dropped to the ground, racing through the opening they afforded him.

  He found the refugees had panicked, scattering through his army and ruining his formations. The Titans took advantage, wreaking massive havoc. Lov watched as Tyrosh ripped Lily away from a swinging Titan's sword, whirling the child into the arms of her uncle before taking up a defensive stance.

  Lov worried for his mother and increased his pace. He knew she was still locked into her current form, and not at the peaks of her power. He passed through a rear guard that kept a line while the army streamed away from the Titans, sprinting for the redheaded elven woman.

  Tyrosh considered the Titan before her, waiting for it to make a move. It shot out, lightning quick, and the dragon woman laughed at its slowness. She stretched out a hand, stopping the blade with one finger. The Titan recoiled as if he had hit a wall, arms splayed wide. Tyrosh heard Lily behind her give a laugh, and turned to smile at the young child. She was so sweet.

  A Titan rose from the sand behind the young girl's uncle. Joha didn't know what hit him, as its sword stabbed through his chest and into the little girl. The smile left the child's eyes, turning to a look of pain. Blood streamed from her lips, and she collapsed as the Titan pulled its sword free.

  Lov had been stretching out to take hold of his mother, when he saw what she was looking at. He ran past her, grabbing onto the suit of armor, and slamming it to the ground. Using his bare hands, Lov ripped the Titan's helm in half. The sand that filled it spilled to the ground. When the body of it swung at the half-dragon, he dodged. He was searching for a weapon while avoiding the Titan's attacks when he heard a scream the likes of which he had heard only one other time in his life. Lov looked behind him, seeing his mother in all her majesty.

  Her eyes glowed emerald green, as if they had a light of their own, and the sun shone off her copper and golden scales as if she were a second sun. Her roar shook the ground beneath their feet. She spouted a shot of flame at Lov and the Titan he held down. Lov felt the fire's heat embrace him and fill him with energy. The Titan was not so lucky. It melted to slag beneath his feet, the sand inside it liquifying to molten glass.

  “She was innocent!” Tyrosh roared out before jumping into the air. She circled the battle, shooting flame from her mouth. “You'll pay for this, Martell!” She began to spray her fire, indiscriminately. She burned Anuunaki, orc, and Titan alike. Lov spotted Nord fleeing from a spray of the flames himself. She burned every single Titan to nothing but slag, then flew off into the horizon.

  Lov surveyed the field before him, seeing how the metal seemed to pool towards itself. There were large ponds of the molten glass and metal spread everywhere, the bones of those not fortunate enough to escape mixed in. Lov shook his head in disappointment, wondering how long his mother had been hiding her little secret.

  Martell looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe what he had seen, the things the Titans had done. He felt powerless, trapped in his own mind unable to affect anything! He watched himself go about his normal daily machination. Whatever controlled him had a steady routine. He prayed every morning as it brushed his hair that he could jerk the brush away from it, and shake his head about to muss it up as he used to. The old man was a prisoner inside his own head.

  He watched this body eat fattening and sweet foods, slowly packing on weight. Already Martell's body had a small gut that wasn't there before. Whoever controlled him left him motionless for hours at a time, as if in pose of meditation, but no one was at the controls. Martell had tried taking his own body back, and had been rebuffed, left with nothing but a glimmer of a thought for a time. Powerful magic controlled him.

  He did find that he was able to project, as Gendry had tried for years to teach him. Finally, he could feel every being in this world connected to himself. Just as his adoptive father had described it to him. Gendry had told Martell that he would feel it one day. If he had been in control of his body, he would have cried.

  Martell reflected on what he had seen the day before, the feeling he had at the same time. When whatever controlled him used the pendant on his neck, Martell saw with the eyes of the Titans. He watched as the things that were supposed to be protectors turned on his people. The kind and peaceful nomads of the desert didn't deserve what had happened. And now, he felt his awareness drawn back to the constructs. He watched as they slaughtered giant ants. He recognized the Anuunaki, with orcs upon his back. If he had been in control of his faculties, he might have panicked. Instead, the sight filled him with joy. Someone needed to stop him.

  He felt the pain as Tyrosh burned each of the Titans into scrap, feeling the heat across his entire being. It was agonizing, a torture Martell didn't feel he deserved. He resolved to renew his fight against the thing that controlled him. Maybe he could affect the outcome of things after all.

  Tyrosh flew over the continent, feeling the rage and fear that coursed through her. She couldn't believe she had lost control like that. She approached a mountaintop, snatching a goat from it and ripping its head off with her teeth. The horns crunched between her crushing jaws. She needed to find dragonweed, and consult someone with more experience.

  There was no one though. Her mother and father had been thorough, wiping out most of their kind. Even now Tyrosh couldn't sense another dragon's soul, only Wyrms. She found herself flying towards her mother and father in the lands of the Tuthan. Her dragonhunger pulled her there, and she knew they would have the best dragonweed. Tyrosh gave in, leaving her son to continue his conquest. She would speak with her parents about the rest of the world. If Tryton and Draka left Lov alone, Tyrosh would become their soldier.

  Nord took assessment of what they had left after the attack. There had been a lot of collateral damage in the baggage train. Most of the wagons had burned, taking the supplies with them. They had turned to negotiations with the farmers for food. They had some, but not as much as when the Ogier had helped to bring Heart alive. Lately the plants had begun to thrive though, and there were rumors that vines crept out the front of the gates of Heart.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When the devoted would enter the city for services, you could see vines everywhere. Fruit and vegetables grew bountifully. Wild animals were starting to come back into the city. And the farther south one went, the thicker the vegetation became. As you approached the southern wall of the city, you
could see Titans working constantly to keep the vegetation down. It seemed to grow back as quickly as they could cut it during the daytime, but at night they managed to beat it back to the outer wall. The once mighty gate that had served to the south was a shambles now. The vegetation outside the twenty foot wall had swarmed over it and into the city. It grew right up the stone, climbing it as if it were bare earth. Now it was working its way into the mortar of the stone, tearing the wall down.

  Past the vast green swells of vegetation, the farmers' fields were flourishing. The plants grew as no one would ever have believed. Pumpkins large enough that the strongest man couldn't lift them. They had a feast around the first five, before it became just a regular thing. Koan had found that people liked him, willing to listen to him sing and tell stories. They loved the fact that an Ogier was visiting them, and the plants loved it too.

  Koan was proud of what he had wrought. Growing the vegetation enough to clog the wall had taken a considerable amount of power. He knew there were other Ogier out there, but he had yet to run into one. He refused to believe he had done all of that growing himself. No one had ever sung to plants enough to make them stretch a mile away from the start, and thickly. And to continue growing. If the young Ogier was here by himself, he was powerful in Ogier magic.

  The family he was with tonight was an elder farmer and his wife. They lived happily together, arguing as an old married couple is known to do.. Koan was happy to be with an elder couple. They moved at a slightly slower pace, but the youngest of the humans were always in such a hurry. Their women were beautiful, though a bit too forward for Koan's taste.

  This old man and his wife ran a smaller farm near Heart. They loved having Koan in their home. On the one planting, they were able to gather enough roots and vegetables to store for an entire winter. Everything else grown this year would be nothing but extra food for starving mouths, or some to store for hard times.

  The next morning was a normal one, spent walking through the countryside, sending out feelings of love and happiness. Singing loudly and proudly, watching as the grass grew, the plants of farmers bloomed, and trees sprouted fruit. It was a wonderful sight to behold, and it filled Koan with a sense of accomplishment and love.

  He didn't find a farm to sleep at that night, but Koan didn't mind. The young Ogier loved to look up at the stars, gazing at the constellations of the sky, and how they changed. Tonight the dancing lady had an open fan. The hunter was aiming at the goose, and the lion had almost caught the fish. Strange happenings were foretold in the sky.

  The next morning, Koan awoke to the sight of an Ogier woman tending his fire. She was pretty, with thick, pouty lips and soft, round eyes. Her ears twitched as she stirred the coals, trying to coax a flame.

  “Who are you?” Koan asked, sitting up from his bed and stretching.

  “My name's Fern, I've heard about you.” She pointed to the vegetation around them. “You're the one that started bringing the life back to Heart.” She reached into a pack she held behind her back, pulling out a few sausages and some soft bread. “I stayed with a sweet old couple yesterday, they gave me this. Made me promise to share if I found you.” She set the sausages on a stick to cook above the coals. “Just give me a few minutes and these will be ready.” She rubbed her hands together and licked her lips eagerly.

  Koan moved to the fire, sitting across from her. “So where are you from?” He asked her, picking up a stick to pick at the fire.

  She smiled and raised her face to the sun, as if remembering something. “I'm from the coast, south where the little people rule.” She said. Koan felt himself drowning in her sea blue eyes. “We help them there, actually acknowledge them. You northerners treat them as you would any other pest. You don't kill them, but you do ruin their homes.”

  “They'd wreck the crops if we didn't!” Koan protested, he had done his fair share of scaring the little people away. “They're nothing but a parasite against us.”

  “Are you joking?” Fern shook her head and sadness entered her eyes. “I'm sad you don't understand what they do for us. They run the water from the sea, purify it, and send it to our crops. It's why our land is the most fertile. We have no dry spots, even to the south at the poles, they have hot springs that soak away the cold. It's beautiful and wonderful to sit in water, watching the snow pile up around you.”

  “How do you keep from freezing?” Koan asked, smelling the cooking sausages. His stomach rumbled.

  “Silly! It's heated from underground. The pools connect deep through the earth to a vent that releases hot magma. It heats up the pools, makes it comfortable to sit in.” She picked a sausage from the flames, passing it to Koan, then took her own. “You'll have to come with me if you're ever in the area.”

  “I will.” Koan ate his sausage, passing the time in silence with his new friend. When he was done, he rose from the ground, picking up his things. “Time to get on my way, it was nice to meet you.”

  Fern jumped up, following the young man across the plains. “I'll just come with you to keep you company.”

  Chapter Twenty

  It was a beautiful sight to behold, watching Tyrosh transform into a more manageable size as she entered a hole in the side of the mountain. She needed to be careful approaching her parents' home; Wyrms weren't known for their hospitality. They usually killed first and asked questions later. Tyrosh passed the remains of others who hadn't made it past their first line of defense. She stepped carefully, knowing that the wrong misstep would certainly injure her, if not force her to join those already staked out.

  All were impaled, some in the most disgusting ways. Most were stabbed through their bellies, a few still stirred feebly. A few had rotted so badly, they had fallen off of their poles, the bones making piles around the upright spears. Tyrosh felt pity, snuffing out their lives as she came across the living ones. She found one trap which hadn't been reset yet. The poor soul had a spear through his eye, stabbing out of the top of its skull. Time had desiccated the body, but the poor soul was definitely a dwarf. It still had its beard, braided and entwined within its long hair.

  The tunnel walls seemed to squeeze in on Tyrosh as she moved deeper underground. How her parents could live here, she would never understand. The walls had a slight sheen to them, like polished marble. As if someone had lovingly rubbed it smooth with sand. She felt pressure, as if they pressed in on her as she walked farther underground.

  She came out into a large, well lit cavern. Tryton and Draka sat in the center of it, a small fire pit between the two of them. Treasures on pedestals were arranged all around the room. Weapons were displayed prominently, like trophies. Tyrosh knew they were her mother's. Her father was never a big one for sentimental items.

  The two elder Wyrms were sitting at the fireside, passing a pipe back and forth and talking quietly. Tyrosh thought she might have snuck up on her parents, but they quickly disabused her of that notion.

  “Ahh, and our loving daughter arrives. How sweet.” Draka rose from her seat, walking over to take Tyrosh's hand. She led her daughter to the fireside, fingering Tyrosh's coppery hair. “It's amazing how your scales always shine through, no mater what form you take.” Draka pushed her daughter back, softly, and Tyrosh felt herself slip and fall back. A chair materialized under her as she fell, catching her. “Now, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Draka took the pipe that Tryton offered her, taking a long hard pull from it.

  “I'll take a toke from your pipe, there.” Tyrosh reached her hand out, looking to take it. “The stuff the orcs smoke is so inferior. Nothing like true dragonweed.”

  Her mother stretched her hand out to pass the pipe to Tyrosh, then pulled it back passing it to Tryton. “That's because it isn't true dragonweed. It doesn't have the spark of life that a dragon can add.” Tryton took a puff on the pipe, then reached to pass it to his daughter. Draka reached out, snatching the pipe from her husband's hand. “Don't give her any yet, my dear. Remember she still wants more from us.”

  “You
're right, I do. I want to kill Martell, as a matter of fact.” Tyrosh said.

  “Martell? Why would you want to kill that fool?” Draka asked her daughter.

  Tyrosh screamed at her mother and father, jumping to her feet. “Do you know what he did to me?” Anger filled her, causing her cheeks to heat up in rage. She slashed her hands through the air aggressively, picturing disemboweling the old man. Her fingers unconsciously transformed into long Talons. “He cut into my heel, making it hard to even walk for months! I needed to train a disciple before I could heal myself!” She glared at her mother and father. Her voice became soft and menacing, causing Tryton to shiver. “Now he killed an innocent little girl. Why should I let him live?” The last she was spitting out, the very thought made her feel dirty.

  Draka rose from her seat, waving her hands in front of her daughter. “Oh sit down and settle, your son has that well in control.” Draka smoothed her long purple skirt, working out a crease in it with a frown on her face. She pointed across the room to the Tuthan that stood guarding them. “We need to prepare. When the Green Star comes, everything must be in place.” Draka pointed to the old man, sitting and drinking a thick red wine. “Your father here will tell you what we need.”

  “What I need is to go out there and cause havoc and mayhem.” The beautiful elven woman strode from the cave, her hair streaming behind her as she shouted out. “Killing Martell may rob my son of his glory, but the armies before him should learn their place!”

 

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