Rise of the Champions

by Nicholas Joslin

  “No! Stick together!” Titus yelled as he continued to fight, his blade coated in black blood.

  Barely avoiding the attack of another mangled Horror, Anna looked to see a disturbing sight. The fallen Narsho warriors were slowly standing back up, their skin and eyes the same colors as the Horrors. They looked as corrupted as Fredrik had been. At that moment, Anna knew he was unquestionably dead.

  “Titus, we need to make a break for it,” Anna said through gritted teeth.

  “Unfortunately, you are right. Our formation has collapsed, and we’ll die here if we’re not careful,” Titus agreed.

  “… You will join me, willingly or in death…” the terrible voice whispered directly into Anna’s head.

  Ignoring it, Anna fought harder as they pressed into the darkened forest of corruption. They had thinned the numbers slightly, but they were still surrounded. She wasn’t sure how they would get out of this and began to panic. As her own will slowly crumbled, so too did that of the other warriors. The living half dozen began to run off into the forest, only a few following the tendril. Realizing they were about to be left behind, Anna grabbed Titus’s arm and pulled him along with her.

  “They’ve left us! Cowards!” Titus yelled with a fearful voice.

  “We need to run! Don’t lose sight of that tendril or we may be lost in here!” Anna yelled as she dragged him.

  She released him as he reached her speed, and they sprinted through the infested woods. The Horrors were close behind them, and as they ran, she could see two warriors who had ventured astray being taken down by their pursuers.

  Suddenly, unable to see in the growing darkness, she felt her foot being grabbed. She toppled into the fleshy ground, her face hitting the damp, living forest floor. Fueled by adrenaline, she quickly turned to see a disgusting purplish tentacle had burst from the living ground and had grabbed her leg. She could feel the suction of it hold tight against her leg, only the cloth of her pants preventing it from touching her body. She looked for her sword, but it was just out of reach. She tried to pull herself free, but it was no good. She looked to see Titus hadn’t noticed, still running forward.

  “Help!” Anna screamed, desperately reaching for her sword and buckler lying only inches out of her reach.

  Titus spun around as he heard her cry, his eyes wide with terror. Despite his fear, he began to run back, greatsword at the ready. Anna felt hopeful as he returned, but quickly realized the Horrors chasing them would get to her first.

  “Anna! Watch out!” Titus yelled.

  She watched as he held his heavy greatsword in one hand and grabbed the other small sword from its sheath with his other hand. He took a moment before throwing it at Anna, a dangerous but necessary move. Luckily, his aim had been good enough, and it plunged blade-first into the ground next to her, which briefly shot out a small spray of black ooze.

  She quickly grabbed the sword and hacked at what had grabbed her. She slashed and stabbed, extraordinarily fatigued. The tentacle bled and writhed in pain, but still held her. She slowly tried to stand but found herself unable to walk anywhere, but as the Horrors neared, she knew she had more to worry about.

  As a large, sprawling Horror jumped at her, she barely dove out of the way in time, the tentacle still attached and slamming her back onto the ground. She was winded and struggled to flip over on her back. She saw Titus arrive just in time, entering combat with three other Horrors that had followed.

  “I can’t break free!” Anna coughed.

  Titus glanced at the tentacle mid-combat, being slashed in the armor as he did. Anna knew he would be dead without the heavy armor he wore, which was now stained with black blood and covered in scratches and dents. As he cut down one of the Horrors, Anna knew Titus was rightfully their Champion.

  She managed to stand just before the large Horror circled back around to attack her. This time it stopped short, swinging three clawed hands at her. She used Titus’s sword to parry two of the arms and slice the third one off. As it flinched back from the shocking loss, she plunged the sword into the Horror’s head, the blade ripping out blackened blood and organs from the other side. She withdrew the sword as it crumbled to the ground in front of her, and again tried to tug herself free. Seeing her failure, Titus quickly dodged the two remaining Horrors and brought his greatsword’s blade down hard on the tentacle. It was chopped cleanly in two and immediately let go of Anna's leg, wriggling and writhing uncontrollably as black blood spraying everywhere.

  Now free, Anna leapt at the Horrors fighting Titus, using nearly all her strength to unleash a flurry of stabs. As she did, Titus brought his greatsword around to nearly cleave the other in half, both the Horrors letting out loud primal shrieks. As she breathed heavily, Anna grabbed her sword from the ground, but before she could give Titus back his sword and retrieve her buckler, two more yellow sets of Horror eyes had already engaged him.

  “Make a run for it!” Titus yelled with weary breath. “I’ll hold them off!”

  This time, Anna wasn’t going to leave anyone. She was tired of watching others die around her. She would ensure Titus would make it out of here alive—she wouldn’t let the Narsho Champion die.

  Anna leapt forward, wielding a sword in each hand. The second Horror looked at her and charged, bringing a fleshy paw down on her. She blocked it with the two swords, barely having the strength to push it off. She could barely stand, her energy fading quickly. She felt a wave of dread crash over her as she saw more Horrors in the far distance shambling towards them.

  “I’m not leaving you behind,” Anna declared.

  Titus cut the two arms off the beast he fought, but it didn’t stop the Horror; it lurched forward, biting his metal pauldron with incredibly sharp teeth. Titus punched the Horror in what appeared to be its head with his gauntlet, black blood spraying his face. Slowly, the Horror released its grip and fell back, seemingly stunned. Titus then leapt over and brought his greatsword down onto the second Horror, delivering an incredible blow. Nearly sliced in half, it collapsed.

  “Let’s go,” Titus quietly said, barely able to catch his breath.

  The two caught sight of the tendril on the ground and ran as fast as their bodies would allow. Anna’s entire body began to burn, her lungs feeling like they were tearing. Even the great adrenaline rush of the fight could barely suppress her need for rest.

  As they continued for minutes, they noticed the forest was even darker than it had been when they first walked through it; the infected leaves had interwoven into a pitch-black web above them, almost looking like an artificial night. Anna’s mind was too exhausted to process just how disturbing and deadly this mission had turned; she only searched for light that would signal the end of this forest.

  Finally, Anna and Titus saw light glimmering from ahead. She quickly looked behind her, seeing no sign of the Horrors. Doubting their fatigued running had outpaced the beasts, she could only guess they had stopped their retreat for some other reason. Regardless, she was glad there weren’t any. As the two plummeted out from the dark corrupted forest, she stopped, completely out of breath. Even Titus found himself hunched over, desperate for fresh air.

  As Anna breathed in the fresh air, she noticed it was much cleaner than the tepid, odorous air inside the afflicted forest.

  “Thank the gods! You’re alive!” a nearby voice said.

  The voice startled her, making Anna jump. She looked over to see Bernol and another warrior hiding behind a small white stone wall. Bernol looked terrible, his wound open and saturated in both Horror blood and his own. The other warrior had some scrapes too but looked far less worn down.

  “Where … is everyone else?” Titus asked, barely starting to catch his breath.

  “We are the only ones here, Titus,” Bernol replied, wincing as he spoke.

  Anna finally felt as though she could move again and started down the cobbled path. She glanced at the others, then at the forest behind them. As she stared, it seemed as though the Horror’s corruption had fu
rther spread since they had entered.

  “Come; we must return home now,” Anna slowly said, turning and continuing down the path.

  “You heard her, we need to tell Chieftain Barod what we’ve witnessed,” Titus nodded, looking to the other two.

  Anna had never felt this exhausted before; she had no thoughts, only the animalistic drive to survive remained. With each step she felt part of her body wear down but knew she couldn’t stop here. The Horrors were too close and her home too far. For all their sakes, she had to press on.

  As she passed through the town square, thoughts of Fredrik came into her mind. She had finally seen Fredrik’s fate with her own eyes. While his body and form somehow still partially existed, he was certainly dead. Whatever he had become, or what had taken his body, it wasn’t him any longer. Between that and managing to find where the center of this all had started, she had succeeded. It hadn’t been without loss, but it hadn’t been a failure either. So, as she slowly walked back to her home, at least her will and soul remained strong while her body began to fade. She had survived, for now.

  Chapter 9

  As Valon took a sip of the hot, vegetal tea, he found himself unable to let go of his concerns. He stared across the small table at his aging parents, who simply smiled at him. He knew they could tell he had something on his mind, but they were too polite to inquire. Given what he was worried about, he found it hard to begin speaking.

  Valon gazed at the nearby fireplace, thinking about his master. Lately, it seemed the Seer required more assistance with farsight than he had in the past. On his own, Seer Mordou could sense imminent things—whether it was something that created a large ripple in magic or was happening to him, his master was permanently connected to magic in a way that other mages were not. That connection was the reason Seers required so much training and didn’t become a Seer until the middle of their life. If someone had that connection without training, they could easily lose their mind. Between his masters waning power and their age, Valon knew he would soon be given the gift of farsight and become the next Seer. While his master's connection would remain, he would no longer be the one leading the farsight ceremony. However, it was the connection that slightly worried Valon.

  “Is the tea alright, dear?” Valon’s mother asked.

  “It’s great, as always. I’m just … I don’t know, deep in thought,” Valon replied, looking at his parents.

  “We can tell,” Valon’s father chuckled, the scar under his left eye looking more pale than normal.

  “I know you can. I’d hope after thirty-four years you’d be able to anyway,” Valon replied with a laugh, then stared back off into the distance.

  “If you’d like to talk about it, you know you can always talk to us,” Valon’s mother added.

  Valon nodded, desperately wanting to vent to them. However, he didn’t want them to think he was doubting his master or even himself. As the next Seer, he knew he would succeed his master in leading their clan, and the last thing he wanted was to project uncertainty.

  “It’s just the farsight ritual the other day. You’ve probably heard all about it by now. It was disturbing, and I am worried about what’s happening,” Valon explained, withholding his other concerns.

  “Indeed, it was troubling,” Valon’s father said, looking over at his spouse.

  “But it’s nothing our people can’t handle I’m sure. We were almost this worried when the unbound elementals appeared before you were born. But we managed to dispel each of the… anomalies,” Valon’s mother added.

  Valon remembered frequently hearing tales of the elementals when he was a child. Just years before he was born, a mysterious disturbance in magic had created a multitude of elementals—somewhat sentient beings made of pure magical energy. Normally such creatures could only be summoned by a mage, and by doing so were loyal to their creator, but these unbound elementals served no one and wreaked havoc through the realm.

  However, their new foe seemed far more intelligent and dangerous.

  “I suppose that is a good point; they could be similar in severity,” Valon replied, not truly believing his own words. “We will have to see what tonight’s farsight holds.”

  “Indeed, my son. It is odd for a Seer to need so many mages for a ritual. But I suppose that’s due to the depth of what he needs to see, and the fact he is growing old,” Valon’s father pondered.

  “Mm. Soon, you will likely be given the gift of the Seer. You must be close to complete with your training. It has been almost two decades now, has it not?” Valon’s mother asked.

  “I cannot say for sure, as I would not ask Master Mordou. However, he has alluded to it a few times lately … I shall do nothing but follow his instructions and await my time,” Valon replied.

  There was a moment of silence, and Valon didn’t know what else to say. He looked back at the warm, crackling fire, finding something soothing about its almost rhythmic burning. He wanted to tell his parents more, but he didn’t want to worry them. What his father asked next surprised him.

  “Son, are you worried about becoming a Seer?”

  Valon froze, shocked his father was being so direct. Normally the man would tiptoe around topics and stay far away from anything too personal. For him to ask was out of the ordinary. Or, more likely, a sign of his old age and growing wisdom. Valon looked back to his parents, seeing his mother was giving his father the same surprised look.

  “Honestly, I am. But not for the reasons you may think,” Valon replied, already feeling better.

  “Then what are the reasons, dear?” Valon’s mother asked with slight concern.

  Valon took a moment, figuring out why he felt the way he did. While he knew why he did, it was hard to put into words. Still, it was too late to avoid the topic now. If he could confide in anyone, it was his parents.

  “I’m not worried about leading the clan. It’s the connection itself, the gift of farsight. I cannot reveal everything I have learned, but to be a Seer is to have a gift and a burden. Master Mordou is permanently connected to the flow of magic; at all times, even if he wants silence and peace, that connection is there. He sees moments ahead of time often without seeking it out. It is taxing for a man to be constantly bombarded with that sort of … information. And while he’s taught me incredibly and told me almost all there is to tell, there is no way to emulate or even imagine what that presence is like without actually having it. Not only that, but it’s a taxing gift. Magic doesn’t just affect your body, it affects your mind and soul too. With each moment that passes, Master Mordou becomes that much more drained from the presence of magic within him. That will soon be me. I suppose more than anything, it’s the unknown that I fear, and that cannot be solved until I am a Seer,” Valon explained, each word lifting a weight from his chest.

  He was out of breath as he finished, yet felt so much better. He felt himself smiling, so happy he could tell someone how he felt. As he looked toward his parents, their emotions seemed mixed, though he wasn’t worried; he knew he had just told them more than most clanspeople knew about Seers. In fact, he was sure they didn’t know people were Seers for life. Most assumed it was something that had to be given up, taken from someone else.

  “Son, that is … I can see why you may have concerns,” Valon’s father stumbled.

  “I’m glad you were honest with us. That sort of … connection, as you described, it does seem intimidating,” Valon’s mother added, her wrinkles scrunched up in worry.

  “It is,” Valon agreed, taking another long sip of his tea.

  “However, you can handle it. Between your natural strength, intelligence, and your training, you will do spectacularly,” Valon’s mother spoke, her voice filled with motherly warmth.

  “Indeed! We have faith in you, Son. You can handle anything—this we know,” Valon’s father added, filled with pride and assurance.

  Valon couldn’t help but smile, knowing he had the most supporting parents in the realm. He loved them and watching them age had
become difficult. This was another worry he would never tell them, not wanting to make them think it was their fault. He wouldn’t be able to take care of them as easily when he became the Seer, but he knew worrying now wouldn’t do anything. The Ancient Clan was supportive and cared for its own. He’d do what he could, but the clan would do whatever he couldn’t.

  “Thank you both,” Valon began, interrupted by knocking at the door.

  “My, my! Are we expecting anyone, dear?” Valon’s mother asked, looking between her son and husband.

  “No, I don’t believe so,” Valon’s father answered, slowly standing from the old wooden chair.

  Valon stood, already sensing the presence outside. He knew who it was, and chances are his master had already managed to hear his worries in one form or another. While Seer Mordou was not a purposefully invasive man, he sometimes couldn’t stop the smaller visions that came to him. Valon knew he couldn’t hide from his master, not that he’d want to.

  As Valon’s father opened the creaky door, Seer Mordou stood just outside, his eye glowing bright in the waning sunlight. He smiled, nodding toward Valon’s father, then saw the others inside.

  “Good evening! I thought I’d find my fine apprentice here,” Seer Mordou smiled.

  “Seer, please come in,” Valon’s father offered.

  “Unfortunately, I have come to ask Valon to come help me prepare for the coming ritual,” Seer Mordou replied, shaking his head.

  “I thought I wasn’t to be a part of this ritual?” Valon asked curiously.

  “That is true, as we cannot risk you stopping the farsight like you did before. However, I will need your assistance with other matters first, if you have a moment,” Seer Mordou explained.

  “Very well, let us go,” Valon nodded.