Saving Fate

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Saving Fate Page 1

by Billy Wong




  Saving Fate

  by Billy Wong

  Saving Fate

  Copyright © 2013 Billy Wong

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  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

  Credits and author page

  Sample of Iron Bloom

  Chapter 1

  "His life will be the stuff of legend."

  Cedric looked down at his reclining wife and frowned. "Again with that crone's babbling? How can you be so gullible? She probably just told you that to make you feel good after you gave her that piece of bread."

  Continuing to stroke their son's head, Brianna looked up to meet his eyes. She was beautiful, her long blonde hair a halo framing the gentle oval of her face. And she was as innocent as she appeared—not that this didn't annoy him sometimes. "You're cheery as usual. What happened to the young man I fell in love with? As I remember, he had dreams, and faith."

  "My dreams turned to dust when those barbarians took the north." The Vorhen, whose sorcerers' unrivaled might came at a terrible price. Their need to draw power from the land had gradually left the north cold and barren, and forced them to migrate south in search of fresh energies. "It's only a matter of time before they come down here as well."

  "Why must you be so gloomy? You know the army's kept them away for two years now."

  Cedric grunted. "They hold because the Vorhen have not yet chosen to attack. But what great destiny do you see for our son, when life in Widalia is little more than the daily struggle to survive?"

  "He still has fifteen years before he is grown. A lot can change in such a long time."

  "I suppose it is all right to dream. Perhaps the war will be over then, and he will become the engineer I never could."

  It was Brianna's turn to frown. "There are engineers now. You could still have achieved your dream; I know how talented you are. Why did you never try again, after we fled Logien?"

  "There are engineers now, but everything they do revolves around war. It is a necessary evil in this day, but distasteful for me. Besides, I would be a target for the Ruwinds if I were to achieve the fame you think I could. And if they killed me, who would take care of you and our Mark?"

  He saw Brianna shudder at the mention of the Ruwinds, demonic assassins summoned by Vorhen sorcerers to hunt down those whose skills could potentially alter the course of the war. It was said that General Borden, the commander of the Widalian army, had already been attacked a dozen times since the invasion. The fact he was still alive attested to the man's might and cunning.

  Brianna started to open her mouth, and Cedric expected her to say something about the good he could accomplish with his talents, and how a person should always do whatever they could. She was still an idealist, and he didn't understand how that could be. When they fled her hometown of Logien three years ago, it was her family that had been slaughtered, and she who'd lain crying in his arms. He had been spared that grief thus far, and yet everything seemed hopeless to him. Whatever she said now wouldn't likely change that. But then, she didn't get the chance to speak.

  An arrow flew in through the window. Only pure luck prevented it from skewering Cedric's face. Little Mark had dropped the wooden doll Brianna made for him, and Cedric bent to retrieve it. The arrow whistled over his head and embedded in the wall behind. Brianna gasped, and as Cedric looked outside so did he. The archer, and its companions, were not human.

  There were four of them in all, and black robes covered most of their tall, sleek figures. But the clumps of pale yellowish tentacles hanging from their hoods and clicking noises which emanated from beyond those appendages marked clearly their monstrous nature.

  Though Brianna was white with fear and clutched her son so tightly Cedric feared she might smother him, she managed to say, "Ruwinds. So much for keeping safe by neglecting your talents, eh?"

  He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Then he strode to the fireplace, taking the long sword from its resting place above. He had learned a fair bit of swordplay, once upon a time, but feared he had little chance to defeat the monsters outside. "Stay here."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Take care of you," he replied simply. "You take care of Mark, too."

  Cedric walked outside carrying the steel blade and closed the door behind him. He wanted Brianna, and his son, to think he had died fighting. The creatures stood in a semicircle in front of the house, regarding him stiffly. He let the sword drop from his hand and knelt, spreading his arms. It was said the monsters were absolutely single-minded in their pursuit of a target, and left as soon as their task was complete.

  "Take me," he begged. "But let them live."

  The creature closest to him drew a wickedly curved knife and looked at one of the others. That one nodded, and the first raised its blade. But Cedric had seen the second turn its head towards the house for a moment before responding, and somehow he knew. The Ruwinds had not come for him as he'd believed, but for his family. But why?

  Cedric did not try to pick up his sword, but shot upright like a geyser, grabbing the forearm of his would-be executioner with both hands. He turned the knife so that it faced its wielder and plunged it home in the monster's throat. Then he went for his sword, pulling the dying creature over his back while he bent so that its companions' missiles found its flesh instead. He stepped quickly to the right and came up, ramming the sword through a second beast. Its tentacles waved dazedly before his face, and he headbutted them. The Ruwind fell away, leaving a foul-smelling slime on his face.

  He turned just as a third opponent reached him, and cut away whatever passed for its hand when it tried to slash him with its knife. Then he felt something like a punch thud into his chest. Wetness tickled his skin. But he felt no pain, and did not look to see how bad it was.

  He chopped at the wounded monster's face, cutting several tentacles away. Another blow slammed into his chest, and he grew dizzy and short of breath. He slashed again, but missed completely in his weakness. Blood bubbled from his mouth. All of a sudden his right leg gave out below him, and he fell. His limb had been all but severed. He looked up, terrified to know he was going to die. What was worse, he had failed his family.

  The wounded Ruwind fell with a shrill cry. Brianna stood behind it, the woodcutting axe in her hands buried in its back. Cedric felt a surge of pride. For a moment, he thought she could win. But her axe was stuck deeply in her victim's corpse, and she struggled to free it. Just as she managed to wrench it loose, the last Ruwind spun to face her and thrust its shortsword into her belly.

  It walked forward, driving the woman impaled on its blade back against the wall of her home. A trickle of blood flowed from the corner of Brianna's mouth, but somehow she raised her axe
and swung. The Ruwind staggered back, blood gouting from below its hood, and collapsed. Dropping her axe, Brianna slid down the wall to sit in a growing puddle of her own blood.

  Cedric's hands were numb, but he crawled slowly to his wife's side. "Help me get it out," she said in a voice choked with agony. Together, they eased the blade out of her gut. It was covered with dark blood. For the first time, Brianna seemed to see Cedric's own wounds. "They killed you," she croaked.

  He didn't have the heart to tell her they'd done the same to her. "My wife, the hero," he whispered as he stroked her face.

  "What will happen to him now? Our son..."

  Cedric rested his head in her lap and closed his eyes, realizing now why the Ruwinds had come. "Have faith, Brianna. His life will be the stuff of legend."

  Chapter 2

  Mark's wails reminded Brianna there were things she still needed to do. She did not know how long she had sat there cradling her dead husband's head, nor how she was still alive. The piece of dress she had stuffed into her gut was drenched with blood. Gently, she eased Cedric's head off her lap and lowered it to the ground. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks as she pushed herself up, leaning against the wall. She heard herself sobbing as she made her feet advance unevenly before her. It hurt so much, she almost wanted to die already.

  Mark lay where she'd left him, in the basket behind the shed door. Brianna tried to bend down, but the searing pain in her belly increased sharply and she almost passed out. Slowly, she crouched instead, careful to bend only her knees. It's okay, she wanted to reassure her son, I'm going to protect you. But she could not say it, for it sounded too much like a lie.

  She gathered him in her arms and stood again, tickling Mark's tiny chest. He should have stopped crying, it had always worked before. But her heart was not in it this time, and he kept wailing. She wanted so much to comfort him, but she was too scared for the future to be comforting. She wondered if on some level, he could sense her distress.

  She left the shed and headed for the road, her steps short and cautious. If she managed to get Mark to safety, she would be content with her last act. But she doubted she could even come close to achieving that. As she passed Cedric's corpse, she felt her grief flare up anew and almost threw herself upon him in a flood of tears. She didn't, for she could not afford to waste the time.

  Then she noticed her axe next to him, and found herself crouching gingerly to retrieve it. The ash handle felt reassuringly solid as her hand closed around it. Brianna looked at its gory head, and a sliver of hope touched her heart. She had killed two Ruwinds with this blade. If she could do one impossible thing, why not another? The despair on her tear-streaked face fell away, replaced by grim resolve. Because she had no belt in which to tuck her weapon, she contented herself with carrying it.

  She could only remember bits and pieces of the journey down the road, but something kept her body walking when her mind seemed not to be there. Occasionally, she stumbled and nearly fell, but caught herself and carried on despite the pain that wracked her tortured frame. Her strength surprised her, and she recalled a nickname she had once been called in her childhood. Brianna the Brave.

  Humph. It had only been a children's jest, really, but she had been the first of her sisters to ask a boy to dance, and the first to secretly taste the bitter ale. And she had once gone out to look for her father in the forest when he was late to return from a hunting trip. He had been fine, but she had gone. Right now, she did not really feel brave, only sad and so very tired. But she thought others might call her brave.

  She had been walking for a while when she saw the creature. The skull-faced thing was over six and a half feet tall and massive, thick at the waist but even larger in the shoulders and chest. Leathery skin with bony plates here and there covered its body, and a ring of fleshy appendages encircled its waist. An enormous sword hilt and great bow jutted over its shoulders. Brianna knew she could not stand up to the beast, especially in her wounded state. Neither did she have the strength to flee, but she tried anyway. She turned and started to lurch away.

  "Woman!" a man's booming voice called. "I mean you no harm!"

  Brianna turned. The voice had come, unmistakably, from the monster. But if it expected her to be fooled when its inhuman form was in plain sight... wait. She took a better look. The skull face was a helm, she realized, and the leathery hide and bone must have served for armor. The tentacles around its waist really were tentacles, but dried and hung from a belt to form a sort of kilt. A huge hand came up, pushing back the helm to reveal a strong-boned, harsh face. The stubble about his chin was specked with gray, but other than that he looked young, perhaps early thirties.

  "You really are a man," Brianna said.

  "Of course I am a man! Do I look like a woman or a boy to you?"

  "I meant..."

  "You have seen battle today."

  "Ruwinds attacked my family. We managed to defeat them, but my husband is dead."

  "You are an impressive woman. It is no small matter to defeat a pack of those fiends." He walked up to her as she stared, his eyes shifting to the blood-soaked midriff of her dress. "You are also wounded."

  A wave of dizziness rushed through her head, and in desperation she held Mark out to the man. "Please, take care of him. I'm dying."

  He pushed her arms away, forcing her to cradle Mark close to her chest again, and lifted her into his arms. "I forbid you to give up so easily. Live, for him. You do not really want him to grow up without you."

  "But my wound... it's fatal, isn't it?"

  The stranger looked her over and smiled. "No. You bit your tongue in the excitement, and that is why your mouth is bleeding. You are not going to die." She, of course, didn't believe him. He began to walk briskly.

  His pace was faster than she would have liked, but though it hurt Brianna did not complain. She feared he wouldn't take kindly to that. Soon, she could barely stay awake.

  "Did you come to save us?" she asked.

  "Not really. I was sure you would be dead by the time I caught up to the Ruwinds. You saved me some work by killing them. But you left my trophies behind."

  "You were... hunting them?"

  "Why not? Does it seem so strange to you, great warrioress, that someone else might be able to slay such fiends? Ha, woman! They may not look like us, but they are mortal too. Why, each piece of my garments came from a different beast!"

  As blurry as Brianna's vision was, she could hardly tell if the parts of his armor were mismatched. But she believed him. His voice was so sure, she might have believed him if he said he were an angel made flesh.

  "Do you hear that?" he asked after a time, perfectly calm.

  "Hear what?"

  "Listen—the silence. The Ruwinds are coming."

  She could not tell if the forest was more silent than usual, but then her senses were close to failing. "But we killed them!"

  "You killed one pack. There are always two, in case the first fails."

  "Protect us, please. I'll help you however I can."

  The stranger was briefly silent. Then he set her on her feet. She could barely stand, and her dizziness threatened to overwhelm her completely. "You are slow and in no condition to fight, and even I cannot stand against a whole and prepared pack of Ruwinds without some advantage. Give me your babe."

  "What?!"

  "Give me your child, and hold the Ruwinds as long as you can. I will keep your son safe."

  For a woman who had so recently thought herself doomed, Brianna felt a surprising anger at his resignation to her death. "You won't even try to save me?"

  "You are too slow, and I too would be slow if I carried you."

  "You monster!"

  "It is the only way."

  Brianna took a deep breath. "Fine. But if you let Mark come to any harm, dead or not I will come for you and make you pay." She handed him the basket in which Mark lay.

  "Your shade does not frighten me. A hundred ghosts of the abyss would not frighten me!"
<
br />   "Which way?"

  He glanced towards the trees in one direction, took Mark out of the basket, and handed the empty container back to her. Brianna understood, and partially hid the basket behind some underbrush nearby. It would help to fool the Ruwinds for even a few more seconds that she was alone, that Mark had not been taken elsewhere. She turned back to the stranger, but he and her son were already gone.

  Brianna clenched the handle of her axe with both hands, waiting for the first Ruwind to appear. She grew angrier at the stranger. What did he expect her to do? She could barely lift the axe, weak as she felt. She doubted she could even kill one foe. When the monsters appeared, she realized her chances were slimmer yet than she had thought. They held bows at the ready, and she could not reach them without being shot down. She raised her axe to throw, mentally praying for her son's safety.

  She threw, and missed as badly as she expected. The axe passed by the nearest Ruwind's head with more than a foot between them. But what surprised Brianna was the sensation of being grabbed from behind and tossed like so much refuse to the side. One of the monsters had snuck up on her, though it hardly affected the outcome of the fight. But then she realized she had been pulled out of the way of the Ruwinds' loosed shafts. Why would their comrade do that?

  The stranger stood over her, his skull helm down and sword in hand. It was the largest sword she had ever seen, at least six feet long and broader than her hand. "This mighty warrioress forgot to bring me the trophies that rightfully belonged to me. So now, I will take two from each of you instead."

  The Ruwinds hesitated, seemingly unsure what to make of the human who defied them with little more care than for misbehaving children. Two of them nocked arrows again and loosed, while the others dropped their bows and drew black-hilted shortswords. The stranger's sword swept down, somehow smashing aside the flying shafts, and then he was on them.

  Blood fountained as a Ruwind fell, jetting from the stump of its neck. The stranger dropped another with a backhand, cleaved through its ribs. He drew the blade out effortlessly, and remembering her trouble pulling her axe from the Ruwind's back Brianna marveled at his strength. For the third foe, he did not even use his sword, but met its charge with a clothesline to the face which flipped it head over heels. As it lay stunned, he stomped on its head and crushed it into pulp.

 

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