Rise of the Champion (The Champion Book 1)

by Clara C. Johnson

  Copyright © 2019 by Clara C Johnson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-7331482-7-6

  Contents

  Also by Clara C. Johnson

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Clara C. Johnson

  The Champion Series

  Rise of the Champion

  Poetry

  One Can Heal

  Reasons to Stay

  Short Stories

  The Bargain

  For my father,

  who always encouraged me

  to stand when I fall

  and to reach for the stars.

  Serra Blackburn wandered the deck of the ship Emilia. The chef told her breakfast would be served within the hour. Upon thanking him, she grabbed two tankards of ale and headed for the main deck with the salty sea air filling her nose as she approached. When she turned, she almost spat out her drink when she saw a dwarf standing on the rail, relieving himself.

  “Finn, what in Spirits name are you doing?” she called out to him.

  Serra and Finn had been partners for many years. They met on a hot summer day when he found her on the side of the road, starving and frail. She was only six years old at the time. Far too young to not have her parents by her side. Her parents had been killed a few weeks prior. He had taken care of her ever since.

  Despite being her only family, she often desired to tie him up to prevent him from doing anything stupid. He was good with words and could talk himself out of any trouble, but he had a nasty habit of doing ridiculous things—things like this.

  She wondered what was worse: him standing on a railing, his pants down exposing his rear end with nothing but ocean below him when he couldn’t swim, or him gambling the ship’s crew members out of their coin. She has been forced to calm that situation down before they chucked him off the port bow.

  “Good morning!” He pulled up his pants once he was done. “I see you’re looking as beautiful as ever. Surely you had the sailors swooning over you on your way here. I hope I didn’t make them jealous when you were overcome with joy at seeing my rear end,” he said, followed by a wink.

  She shook her head. “One of these days, Finn, you will fall and forget that you can’t swim.” He crossed his arms, standing tall as if he would grow another foot. She noticed his beard was starting to grow back.

  “I can assure you, my girl, that I can. Just… not very well.” She laughed and patted him on the back, offering him the other tankard of ale.

  “So, will you finally tell me our big plans for when we reach the city?”

  He grumbled and rolled his eyes. “You know I told you it was a surprise! You’ll have to trust me on this. When have I ever let you down?” He batted his eyelashes as she raised an eyebrow.

  A memory surfaced. “Are we talking figuratively or literally?”

  “That was one time! One time!”

  Serra laughed as Finn argued over the past. Serra had been fixing a broken window for their boss at the time. She tripped and fell backward, but her boot got caught on something. Finn had “helped” her reach the ground.

  The captain of the Emilia called him over. Bidding her farewell, Finn went to him as she strode her way to the lower deck to get breakfast. Grabbing two bowls, she groaned at their sight. While the cook called it “soup,” it was more of a water-filled pot with questionable meat and potatoes. She wrinkled her nose. The smell didn’t help either in combination to the male odor that filled the ship.

  Still, it was better than nothing. They were forced to eat whatever was provided to them by the captain, since Finn had to argue over his payment method. Eventually, they agreed on paying half now and the other half later when they reached the city. They weren’t even ordered to do chores on the ship. Serra assumed it was because he didn’t want them causing accidents due to their ignorance of ships. She, however, still offered help whenever she saw a crew member needing an extra pair of hands. In return, the crew taught her specialty knots and the best ways to cut a man and “make him squeal like a pig,” as one of the crew members described.

  After she got their bowls, she sat and ate the soup, almost puking at the foul taste in her mouth. The cook must not believe in throwing rotten food away after a week. The sailors devoured the soup as if nothing was wrong with it.

  They must have strong stomachs. She wished she had the same.

  The sailors were a rough bunch of misfits, but they were unbelievably loyal to each other and to their captain. She’d seen how they followed all orders without question and helped each other in the storm they passed through two days ago. They moved together with a determination she’d never seen before. Silently, she wished she had a band of companions who worked with her as well as they did with each other. Imagine what could be accomplished.

  She forced down the last bits of the soup and chugged her ale before it returned to the surface. She felt as though she may need to keep close to the main deck as her stomach curdled.

  Finn plopped down on his seat, rubbing his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Ah, the captain is a pain in my arse. He said we’ll be dropped off at some other dock other than Fogshore. Something about hearing a good deal for his goods at our last stop. So, we’ll need to walk several miles out of our way. By the time we get there, it’ll be dark. I won’t be able to properly show you the surprise!” He raised his hands in frustration.

  She waved a hand at him dismissively. “What’s a couple more hours? We’ll see more of the city before we rest for the night. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find extra work and not more farm work. I’m tired of caring for filthy, mud-ridden pigs.”

  “You know it was the best opportunity I could get us, and it wasn’t that bad. I mean, just look at that horse that wouldn’t stop following you around.”

  She groaned. It wasn’t that she didn’t like horses. This one just followed her everywhere. She had to shove him out of her improvised bed in the barn on more than one occasion. She couldn’t even relieve herself in peace when he saw her. Eventually, she deemed it futile and let him sleep next to her. He often nudged her head with his nose during the night while she tried to sleep. Ironically, his name was Easy. He was a good horse, though.

  “And chewed on my hair, I
remind you. The knots and dirt were so bad I had to cut most of it off!” She lifted her hair that barely touched past her shoulders. Before Easy, the tip of her hair touched her hips. She had enjoyed the long braids she could form with it.

  “As I remind you, Serra, you look better this way, and it’ll make it easier if or when we need to fight our way out of trouble. We don’t want a repeat of last time, do we?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I told you not to bring that up again. Need I remind you of the time you took that drunk woman back to our place, and you—”

  “No, no. I’ll stop. Let’s not bring that horror story up.” She smiled confidently as she poured him some ale, holding back a chuckle at her victory. Finn muttered something as he took the first sip.

  The “woman” he took home ended up being a very feminine-looking young man. She would never forget the look on Finn’s face when he screamed and ran out of the room with his pants coming undone. She suggested to the young man to make it clear to his future clients that he had different equipment than a woman. He took her advice well and returned their coin as an apology.

  The cook’s help knocked down a basket of potatoes that followed roars of laughter throughout the mess hall as they poured over him and landed on the floor as he tried to push the basket upright. The cook cursed relentlessly at the boy who was only a few years younger than Serra. The boy lowered his head in shame and, with a loud slap, the cook hit the boy with such force he fell to the floor.

  Serra stood up so fast her chair slid against the wooden floor, loud enough to get the entire room to stare at her. The boy touched his bruised cheek, glancing at her for a second before cleaning up his mess. The cook glared at Serra with a pugnacious expression on his face, itching for her to say something—to fight him.

  “Leave it be, Serra.” She looked toward her friend, who gave her a silent warning to not get involved. A small reminder that the captain would gladly throw them overboard if they caused trouble on his ship and would keep their money anyway to spite them.

  Serra took a deep breath and sat back down, defeated.

  Finn returned to his drink as if nothing had happened. “It’s not right, Finn,” she muttered. “That boy probably lost his family to be here on this ship. He’s far too young to join a crew like this conventionally.”

  “You’re probably right, but it’s better than him living on the streets stealing. At least here he’s given a job and can work his way up. If he does as he’s told, he’ll be fine.” Finn used his spoon to push around the meat in his soup, avoiding eye contact.

  Serra remained silent, pushing away her bowl, and leaned back in her seat, irritated. “I know you want to help everybody, but trust me when I say he is in better shape than you were when I found you. He’ll be all right. Try not to get involved in such things. It isn’t good for your health. Keep that up, and you’ll grow grey faster than you can bat an eyelash.”

  While she remained frustrated with the events, she understood what Finn was saying. They both wanted a better life for themselves and getting involved would’ve only caused more trouble. She had to learn to ignore the horrible things around her at some point. If Adhelm was half as much as the rumors suggested, she would need to learn to keep her mouth shut.

  She just wasn’t sure how much more she could handle before she lost her temper.

  They arrived later that day at Summerport. Finn offered a courteous smile to the captain as he handed him the remaining balance of their payment. The captain was pleased, saying only that he wished more people followed through with their debts. They bid him farewell, and Serra observed the dock workers loading up two other ships.

  Most of them were human like herself, but she noticed a considerable number of elves that bore the painted streak on their foreheads. The symbol of slavery.

  Serra had heard of such rumors that Adhelm still remained a slave-infested city, but she never considered it would be this many. She refused to imagine how many more may live in the city itself. Where she used to live, her town had servants with only passing merchants or nobles that had any slaves to speak of. She wished that one day it would be different, but only ever shared it with her dwarf friend. Her unpopular opinion would cause quite a stir among others. Too many benefitted from free labor.

  “Ready to head out and see your surprise?” Finn said.

  Serra glanced down at him, only to return once more to the elven slaves she pitied, wishing there was something she could do, but she was no one. She had no power or wealth to buy them from their owners to free them. She was an orphan with barely enough coin to buy herself food, much less a slave.

  From what she’d heard, the elves had lost everything. Their language, culture, and land. The previous kings of Sostar sent armies out to enslave their entire race. Whoever fought back was killed instantly. Everything was taken from them. That was why she was inclined to feel as she did. She had lost so much herself. Her home. Her family. She knew what it was like to have nothing. Starving and with no one to help her. If it weren’t for Finn, she would’ve died years ago.

  “Let’s go.” She offered a smile to her friend as she tried to dismiss any further thought on the slaves that she felt she’d left behind. Once again, she reminded herself to keep herself out of it. Though, it was more for Finn’s sake than hers.

  The city streets of Adhelm were busier than Serra had previously imagined it would be. The flurry of activity was enough to make anyone feel disoriented. People crowded areas of the market, carrying wagons full of fruits and vegetables.

  A fresh smell filled her nose as they passed the bakery. Spices such as garlic and cinnamon blanketed the air, making her stomach rumble. It had been a while since she and Finn visited a bakery. Bread coated with garlic and other spices were her favorite. She wiped her mouth when she discovered she had drooled a little.

  Several women stood at the side of the wall, chatting away some recent events. She overheard many of them talking about their plans for tomorrow as the sunlight diminished into a purple and red sky. Her feet were sore from her slightly-rotted boots as they stepped down another flight of stairs. She would need to get new ones soon.

  Despite the crowds, each person seemed content with their lives, smiles curling upward on their faces. Of course, some were obviously having a bad day, and the streets were not in the best of shape. Dirt, trash, and feces surrounded some of the areas near the market. A rancid smell caused her to wrinkle her nose when it burned her nostrils. A pile of rotten fruit was placed at an archway. She already wanted to go back to the bakery.

  A woman’s voice called out as two young children scurried back to their homes before their mother gave them a lashing. Finn had to jump out of the way multiple times before he was potentially pushed down the steps, a necessary precaution as even the human children were taller than himself.

  He was small for a dwarf, and Serra was careful not to mention it. He was incredibly sensitive about it, but she understood as she was small for a girl her age; she barely stood an inch over five feet.

  “Look out!” the man yelled as he rushed to stop the cart moving toward them. He’d forgotten to block the back wheel.

  Serra acted quickly and pulled Finn with her as she shuffled them against the wall. The wagon smashed into a stand that contained several bushels of vegetables and an old woman. The impact sent the vegetables in every direction. The old woman managed to jump out of the way in time, throwing every known curse at the man who owned the wagon.

  “Please, tell me we are almost there,” Serra said to the dwarf. He brushed off his coat and smoothed his brown hair.

  “I can safely say we are. If we can make it there in one piece anyway,” he scoffed. Serra continued to follow her friend, half-expecting another runaway cart to hit them before they made it to wherever Finn was leading her.

  She noticed a man stealing a pair of boots at a nearby store and moved away from the stand. The merchant who owned it yelled at him to stop. When the thief realized he was caught
, he panicked and ran through the crowd in front of them. He ran toward them as Finn stepped away to let him go. Serra maneuvered her feet in front of the thief and punched him squarely in the stomach. He groaned, holding his stomach, as he fell to the ground.

  She picked up the boots, realizing the boots weren’t in the best of shape. They were barely worth any coin with how old they appeared to be. It was curious that the thief would want them in the first place. When she noticed the thief’s bare, cracked feet, she understood.

  The merchant caught up to them, and Serra handed him the boots. “Thank you, miss. I was sure he would’ve gotten away. The guards here are too busying gettin’ drunk to pay any mind.”

  “It’s no trouble,” she said, walking around the man to follow Finn.

  “Wait a moment, miss. Are you new ‘round here? I haven’t seen you before.”

  She glanced back at Finn, who patted her on the back. “That we are, my good man. We came here looking for better work. You wouldn’t believe the little amount of work where we come from.” Finn was careful not to mention where they came from. It was better to not share too much with a stranger, given their new line of work.

  Serra’s homeland was between Sostar and the far south side of Crelia but had recently been declared part of Crelia when the previous lord who ruled the land decided to side with them about twenty years ago. He was very loyal to the queen.