by Damon Glatz
Ohitekah flashed back to the town he and Nicholas journeyed to where they met Red. This battle was just like Nicholas’ fight against the Ronin in that town. When Nicholas’ armor was too strong for the sword, the Ronin would attack the higher, weaker points.
After the next stab into the ground, Ohitekah leaped off the earth and swung for the birds face. It jerked back and whipped his beak at him, cracking into his ribs and sending Ohitekah through the air. He landed on his feet, his side aching. He had no time to worry about the injury.
The Thunderbird paused to recalculate.
He thinks quickly.
The bird reared his head and charged a ball of blue lightning in its open beak. Ohitekah’s eyes grew wide.
He’s right in front of me. Ohitekah thought. I can’t dodge this.
The bird fired a beam of lightning from its mouth directly at Ohitekah.
There was a burst of red flame from behind him. The elements collided in air and made a large explosion between them. The intense heat burned his face, and he fell back a few steps, dropping his sword. The bird moved back as well, not expecting the explosion. Parts of its feathers were blackened and burned.
Red appeared next to Ohitekah. “If he uses his lightning, I’ll counter it with my fire. Keep the fight balanced.”
This was surprising. Ohitekah did not expect any Mythical assistance from Red during the battle.
“He has his advantages, and so do you. Nicholas was right, you are not alone.” Red gave a nod. “Now go.” He commanded.
Ohitekah picked up his katana and ran back at the bird. It fired another blinding bolt of electricity from its open beak. Red held out his arm and sent a pillar of fire to meet it in the air. The heat from Red was incredible.
You are holding back, just enough to defend the boy. One day Daisuke you will need to push your limits. The Mythic thought.
Red and the Mythic locked eyes.
Not today, old friend. Red smiled.
The bird flapped his wings and sent a bellowing gust at the both of them. Red planted his feet firmly and braced for the wind. He did not move an inch. Ohitekah stabbed his sword into the ground and held on, digging his feet into the dirt. After the wind passed, Ohitekah ran forward and jumped toward the Mythic. The bird hid behind his large golden wing. Ohitekah sliced through the feathers, causing the bird to cry out.
I’ve never felt more alive. the great bird thought
The bird lifted his large talons and stomped down on Ohitekah. He fell onto his back and pointed his sword above him. The foot of the bird went straight down onto the sword, impaling itself. The blow knocked the wind out of Ohitekah again. His ribs ached in pain. The Thunderbird lifted its foot in surprise and flailed it around. Ohitekah jumped to his feet and moved quickly from under the Mythic. The Mythic lifted its injured foot to its beak and pulled the sword out. With a flick of its neck it sent the sword flying over the hilltop, far from reach.
“Help,” Ohitekah shouted to Red.
Red turned to get the sword.
Not so easy now, Daisuke.
The bird fired a quick lightning bolt at Ohitekah. Red reacted and shot fire back to block the shot, causing another explosion.
“I cannot,” Red shouted back. “He will not let me.”
The bird pecked at Ohitekah with its beak again. He was forced to dodge. The bird began pecking as fast as he could. Ohitekah was defenseless, and tried his best to evade. His clothes were getting torn from narrow misses. The sharp beak left gashes in his arms and sides. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer.
Ohitekah remembered what Lance told him as he was sparring with Red.
Do not forget that your body is a weapon too.
At the next strike, Ohitekah jumped into the air to dodge over it. The beak passed under him and was stuck in the earth. Ohitekah landed on its beak and ran up the length of it. He jumped and kicked the bird in its eye. Screaming, the Mythic whipped him again with his beak.
Ohitekah was sent sprawling to the base of the hill. Ohitekah struggled to stand back up after that blow. His body was aching. Blood dripped down his arm and puddled on the ground beneath him. He was pretty sure he had several broken ribs and hoped that was the worst of it.
He looked up to a familiar flapping sound in the breeze next to him. It was Lance, his blue and silver cape flowing behind him.
“You will need more than that to win this battle.” He lifted up Ohitekah’s katana and tossed it onto the ground near him. “Remember why you are fighting, boy. You might make it out of this.” Without saying another word, the prince turned his back to him and walked back to his horse.
Ohitekah grabbed his sword. He lodged it into the ground and used it to help him stand, the yellow-hilted samurai sword Red gave to him. He looked back at the Mythic. It had recovered from some of its injuries, standing before him as magnificent as ever. It opened its wings wide, inviting him in for the attack.
Its eyes were alive like never before, golden flames burning with passion. Its body was wounded, feathers and blood strewn everywhere. Ohitekah had sustained some cuts and broken bones as well, but nothing could distract him from this battle.
Behind him were his friends all helping him. One for a promise, one for destiny, and one as a means to an end. Not the best of relationships, but help is help indeed, and he needed it. All of them. The training, the advice, the experience, the sacrifice. Standing behind him, all the way to the end, when he needed them most.
Nicholas lifted his fist in the air. “Finish him, lad!”
Red braced for the next strike. You can do this, Ohitekah.”
Lance clenched his fist. “Let’s end this.”
The Thunderbird lifted its wings. This is my destiny. It thought, reveling in the moment. Its heart racing like never before.
Lightning struck all over the area, the Mythic was powering up again. Ohitekah raised his sword with what strength he had left and took a step in his direction. He stumbled and fell over. When he got up and tried again, his legs gave out.
His body was broken. After all this, he couldn’t finish the job.
Ohitekah remembered the wounded buffalo from the day of his first lead hunt. The large black bison that never gave up. Never stopped fighting. Always digging deeper and pushing forward. Ohitekah had to do the same. It’s never too late to keep fighting. He forced himself to stand back up.
There was a soft nudge on Ohitekah’s shoulder, and he looked over. He almost cried from joy. It was his friend, Bolt. The horse gave a stubborn snort and stomped his hoof.
“I knew you would come back for me.”
Ohitekah smiled. The horse lowered himself so Ohitekah could climb onto his back with relative ease. He secured himself and drew his sword one last time. Bolt raised him up and dug his hooves into the ground.
“You know what we must do.”
The horse burst into a speed that he had never used before, racing faster and faster up the hill. Ohitekah readied his sword at his side, eyeing the perfect place to strike. He yelled as loud as he could as they charged the Mythic of Thunder. Lightning crashed around them, sending dirt exploding in all directions.
They never flinched, never slowed, only one thing in mind.
The Mythic began to charge its power and raise into the sky.
Ohitekah gripped his sword with two hands and stood up on the back of Bolt.
Only one shot…
Once they were in range, he jumped into the air and swung his weapon.
The sun peeked through openings in the clouds, leaving a trail of golden rays that trickled down to the soft grass. The rain slowed to a light haze and soon nothing at all. The wind settled. The Great Thunderbird lay defeated on top of the hill, Ohitekah’s sword pointing straight into its chest. It was breathing lightly, barely alive.
Ohitekah walked up to his fallen rival, this holy creature of legend. He climbed on top of the bird and pulled out his blade, the once shimmering steel edge now red. The light aura from the bird dissi
pated. Its golden hue appeared much grayer than before, its feathers faded and dull. The clouds vanished entirely, the plains reborn in their previous colors.
“I cannot put into words the amount of respect I have for you, oh Mythic of Thunder.” Ohitekah let a tear roll down his cheek. Bolt stood beside him, watching nervously. “I lay you down now to peace. An eternity of flight now leads to an eternity of rest.”
The Mythic closed its eyes.
“I accept these powers, I accept these responsibilities, and I accept this curse. I will do everything I can to help the people who need me the most. Thank you, Mythic, for bringing life to us on the plains for all these years. We are in debt to you. Go now, great one. Thank you. Rest in peace.”
Thank you… Ohitekah heard in his ears as the Mythic lay still.
There was a sudden rush of heat and energy that flooded through Ohitekah’s body. He felt lighter, stronger. The bruises and pains healed almost instantly. His vision improved, he could see further along the plains than ever before. Ohitekah could suddenly remember all of his training, long forgotten memories from his entire life came flashing back to focus. This was it: the Mythical powers. They surged through his veins like a raging river of energy. He wondered how he could use his lightning powers, how to make it storm.
He glanced to Red for help.
Then he remembered.
Red and Lance.
They stood alone in the plains facing each other, swords drawn. Not even a moment had passed since the Mythic was defeated.
No words were spoken.
Ready to fight.
Epilogue:
Dawn of an Empire
The small, red campfire whispered in the cold night wind. The officers huddled together for warmth. The only heat in the dark night was the dwindling flame between them. There were hundreds of fires in the valley behind them, keeping the rest of the army warm. The campfires stretched out beyond them, resembling stars in the sky
“Where is he?” the captain spoke harshly, wishing to return to his tent.
“Shh… He will be here soon,” a commander silenced him.
Another moment passed. They waited in the cold together, the captain shifting in his impatience.
“Gentlemen.” A man wearing finely crafted golden armor walked into the circle of these men. The officers snapped to attention and saluted. His armor reflected the light from the fire, looking like a flame himself. His sculpted face glowed in the light. His hard, dark eyes pierced fear into his strongest men. His features were fierce, bold. His stature commanded respect. He held his long golden spear at his side, his personal weapon. It never left his side in any circumstance.
“General,” they said in muffled voices, saluting.
The general stood before them and looked them each in the eye. “You are all my highest-ranking officers. I’m sure you have figured out why we have covertly gathered here tonight.”
They looked nervously to each other, silently nodding. “Yes Sir.” They all spoke at once.
“For too long, our military has been thrown to the wayside by the senate.” The general faced his army spread out below, their tents lining the gap between mountains, the largest ground force in the world. “The Republic of Orbis has been crumbling at the hands of our elected officials. The senate is corrupt and you all know this to be true.”
The men nodded.
“Soon, the senate will pass a new law that will place them directly in charge of the military. They will replace the army’s commanders with their own appointed officials, certainly aristocratic, wealthy men with no real strategic knowledge. They will destroy the strength that we have worked so hard to build." He clenched his fist. "Our nation will be left vulnerable and open for attack. We need to unify our country. Tomorrow, we will march on the capitol, our own capitol.”
The men glanced at each other. Some of them nodded.
“I am your leader, your general. When we take control of the senate, I will claim temporary control until we can form a mutual agreement. Do you agree with this motion?”
The men stood at attention and saluted. “Hail General Falko!”
“Good. You have all organized your centurions. At first sunrise tomorrow, we will march south into Chrysos and take control of the Senate House. They will have no armies to defend with and there will be no bloodshed. We will seize control of our own military and the nation we have bled to defend.”
“We all serve you, General Falko.” The men continued their salute.
“Tomorrow, we rise for the freedom that we deserve. This is not for us. This is for the people we are sworn to defend. We need to protect Orbis... from itself.”
The men all stood tall and saluted. “For the Orbis Republic!”
“Excellent. Return to your camps and ready your men. I will lead the march when dawn breaks. God of the Underworld be with you all.” The general turned and left the camp, disappearing into the night. The commanders divided and walked down the hill toward their barracks.
The general stood alone at the hilltop for a long moment.
“The Mythic of Water was defeated. Nicholas the Brute is the Vatnic king now,” a low female voice crept out of the shadows behind him.
“An unexpected break in the plan. Was it killed?” Falko spoke to the night.
“No, the goddess begged for its life. We still have the Water Mythic.” A woman approached him. She was tall and slender, her long black hair rested at her hips. Her face was pale, and her eyes were pitch black. Dual swords crossed on her back.
“Then that is still good news. What of Daisuke and the boy?”
“They traveled back into the plains to fight the Thunder Mythic. Prince Lance of Ashland is with them.”
“Excellent, just as planned. Let us hope the boy defeats it.” Falko stared into the night “Our enemies have placed their pieces into position, now it is our turn to make a move.”
The general turned to the dark woman. She gave him a nod.
“Is there anything else?”
“No, my Lord. Everything is as you said.”
“Thank you, Deyanira. Your resources are invaluable as always.” Falko squeezed his hand into a fist and stared into it. He spoke sternly to Deyanira. “They have always said it was impossible to collect all five of the Mythic powers into one body.” Falko looked into the night sky. “But I will prove the legends wrong.” He turned to face the woman in the shadows. “Go find out how the battle ends, and keep an eye on Prince Lance. He is likely to head home soon, that would complicate things.”
She gave a bow of acknowledgment, turned and vanished into the night.
The last embers of the campfire burned out and the black smoke lifted up into night sky. The grey cloud rose into the heavens and clotted out the starry night. The nighttime light found no way of shining through the smoke. As each campfire fueling the army was put out, their dark clouds rose and joined together.
Not a single light could be seen.
About the Author
This is the second edition of this work by Damon Glatz, the first being a limited run self-publish while he was studying Business at Coastal Carolina University. Damon plans to publish the sequel, Battle of Mythics in the summer of 2019, and the finale War of Gods the next year. Damon is also writing many more adventures during this time; from sci-fi novels, to super-hero webcomics, and detective mystery short stories, so be sure to stay tuned for new releases.
Damon also is the writer, animator, and voice of the YouTube educational writing series “Pen & Sword” where he teaches tips and tricks to upcoming authors.
To reach him professionally, feel free to contact his writing email at: [email protected] for questions or comments.
Acknowledgements
This has certainly been an incredible adventure. Not only for my characters, but for me as well. And, just like my characters, I would have never made it this far without the companions who helped me along the way. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to not only rea
d my story in its early stages, but provide me with feedback and support along the way. I would like to particularly thank; Ben Remer, Nicholas Niescior, Anna Borinski, Matt Weaver, Devon Carney, Malcolm Cooper, Frank Zhang, Ryan Smith, Ramona Pina, Peter Espinoza, and Danielle Watson, for your much-appreciated assistance and support.
I would like to thank Edd Sowder, James Master, and my friends at Burning Willow Press for giving me the chance to publish this trilogy and for their guidance along the way.
Finally, I would like to thank my mom, Laura Glatz, for all the help, support, love, and counsel I desperately needed. Without her I’m not sure where this all would have resulted, or what the end product would be. I hope someday soon, it’s all worthwhile. So, thank you for everything, I love you very much.
About the Publisher
Burning Willow Press is an independent publisher of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, with genres blended into other formats as well. Located in South Carolina, in the US, BWP has published more than eighty dreams with the interests of the authors at heart since 2015, and that gentle reader, will hit triple digits by 2020.
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