A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

by D. N. Woodward

  Surprisingly, Reed answered before the others, “Absolutely not! The concept of werewolves and other shifter type fairy-tale stories are misconceptions of those like us, likely brought about by the likes of those Unbladed filth.” Reed’s eyes flashed contempt as he pointedly glanced back where the men continued to work. “We hold to the original traditions and do not make a mockery of our gifts.”

  Leon could care less for whatever point Reed was so overtly attempting to make to their captors at the moment. He clinched muddy fists as he pondered whether it was betrayal or apathy that motivated the omission of so many truths by the one man he cared about most in the world. As that world continued to unravel at the seams, he stole a glance at Gus and a bit of anger crept into his voice. “REALLY? You never thought to mention this? You couldn’t have just trusted me Gus, couldn't have clued me in just a bit here? I mean, even if I wasn’t like you, did I mean so little?”

  “Leon! It wasn't like that son. I was held to an oath! There's no way I could've known you were what you are.” Gus strained against his shackles like he might physically push his point across to Leon.

  “So, what am I now, Gus?” Their captors continued brisk preparations of some kind around them, but all sound seemed to fade to nothing as Leon waited on an answer.

  “Same as you always was. You’re my boy, Leon, the one I took in as my own in my old age and called my grandson…the son I never had,” Gus responded.

  Leon’s anger cooled a bit. “No, Gus, not what I meant. What sort of…creature am I? What does it mean for me to be a skin-changer?”

  The man with the pistol responded as he walked up to their group again, “That’s a loaded question boy. Answer is yet to be determined, isn’t it, Gus?” He squatted down a few feet from Leon and looked at him like a cattleman eyeballing a young bull at the sale barn.

  “Yes, sir, you are a bit of a mystery. No worries though, it sometimes takes as long as a year or two from the time you begin the transition until you turn full-on hairy beast, even though none of us ever really fully transition into whatever creature our bloodlines follow. Most likely you’ve got the Lupus affinity, though.”

  At Leon’s puzzled look, the man chuckled. “I'm talking about a wolf, boy! In this part of the world, it’s rare to meet anyone of our specific heritage not of the Lupus affinity. Unless you’re like your granddaddy, that is. Old Gus’ momma somehow let a cat into the doghouse, didn’t she?” He laughed at his joke. No one tied down cracked a smile.

  Leon chose to ignore the headache forming simply by listening to such absurdities. None of it made much sense to him anyway. Instead, he turned back to the stranger and took another look, desperately searching for a way to change the subject, “NVG Securities?”

  The man with the pistol chuckled. “You really have no idea what any of this means, do you? My name is Ben Heegan, and I’m the owner of New Varangian Guard Securities, as well as a few other companies.”

  He waited like that should have cleared things up. When Leon didn’t respond, he shook his head in disgust, “Mercenaries boy. We operate a world-renowned international mercenary firm,” he grinned his best car salesman grin and continued, “We’re the good guys. We protect powerful interests from terrorist scum throughout the world.”

  NVG may not have rung a bell, but the name Ben Heegan seemed so familiar. Leon’s head shot up when he finally recalled where he had heard it before…from Tony. “You’re the Ben Heegan, the turd who just bought Lost Pines Credit Union? That creep Joseph Ramano works for you?”

  Ben smiled back at him, “The one and only Turd, and yes, you’ve met one of my employees. He’s a prickly killer that one, though he’s only human…he remains as clueless as you were about all of this.”

  Turning to face the rest of their group, Ben spoke to them all, “I knew Gus was here and I know that he’s the steward. I just needed to smoke out Mr. Adler to complete the party.”

  Ethan spoke up, “Clever. Very clever. But even if you can convince us to help you, you’re still missing a piece of the puzzle. The knowledge to prepare the path back was given separately. You’re still one man shy. One man, which neither Gus nor I know how to locate these days. It won’t work without that additional knowledge.”

  Ben smirked. “You wouldn’t be referring to the Sculptor, a mister Alex Haden, would you?”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

  Ben crouched down to his level and looked him directly in the eyes, his response came out deadpan serious, “Why, Mr. Adler, Alex was my father.”

  “Was? No. That can’t be, I know…knew, Alex. He was… No son of his would have grown to have done such a thing!”

  A note of anger added an edge to Ben’s tone. “It wasn’t me, you old fool! I loved my father. I wept for him as I watched him die in my arms. It was a territorial young rogue that attacked our home up in Stony River while we slept. Gutted my father before he knew what hit him. Then it killed my mother and my older brother, Dax, before I finally brought it down with a shotgun full of slugs!”

  He managed to wrestle control of his emotions once more. “Funny thing, though, while my father was dying, he got my older brother and me confused, and in the process of recalling our family secret, he inadvertently passed it on to me, one who wasn't Bladed.

  “I was sixteen, too young for the rogue to have sniffed me out and still in the dark as to who I really was thanks to your foolish rules!”

  Ethan’s mouth moved like a fish out of water for a moment. “The Blade, Ben, you have to take the Blade!”

  Ben stood up again, shaking his head. He spat at Ethan’s feet before he answered. “I don’t have to have a damn thing to do with you and your superstitions. Their Blades didn’t do a thing for my parents or my brother when the rogue attacked.”

  Gus chimed in, “That ain’t the point. It’s not too late. Take my Blade, Ben. Take it and cure this madness.”

  “Ha! Keep your britches on, old man. I’ve got my own Blade now, pure titanium alloy, as well as a few little friends to go along with it. They’ve served me and my team well in Syria, Yemen, Ukraine…they’ll serve us well in Fayden, too.”

  To emphasize his point, he held up his pistol and tapped a rifle butt poking up through a pack he carried on his shoulders. A few of the men chuckled at his speech as they finished stowing the last of the gear.

  “I know you think us traitors to our ancestors, or worse, for not taking up your precious Blade, but I assure you, we’re not. We’re not lunatic rogues either. We just want the chance to go back where we belong, where we all belong. The chance to take back what rightfully belongs to us. The chance to be free. Hell, you’ll be thanking us before this is all said and done.”

  Everyone was forced up when the rest of Ben’s team materialized out of the woods and two more heavily customized UTVs arrived. The men loaded their gear onto the UTVs.

  Ben’s team was comprised of twelve men, including Ben. Eleven of the twelve looked like typical soldiers. One guy, however, towered several inches above any of the others. He sported a bandaged wrap around his forehead. The man beside him looked to have had an arm heavily doctored, it was in a sling.

  Leon saw the big one move in close, leering down at him specifically. He gulped and decided against doing anything to agitate the big guy. That had to have been the one he put down, twice. The other one was likely the one Gus tagged with the rifle.

  Ben took a flashlight from one of his men and spread his arms wide. “Mr. Silberman, please be so kind as to show the way before I am forced to put a bullet into the head of one of these fine young idiots.”

  Gus gritted his teeth but marched forward, manacles jingling with each step he took.

  Chapter 4

  Gus led the group to an extremely dense area of forest, with a thick barrier of shrubs and brush. He pointed toward the thickest, nastiest briar patch. “In there.”

  Several men attacked the brush with machetes and chainsaws. Leon gently bumped Shana, standi
ng beside him. “How are ya?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. I may know more than you about what we are, but I have no idea what’s going on now.”

  “You said you knew about this? Is this normal for people like…us?”

  She shook her head. “Right…so first off, I wasn’t exactly off at a normal college. More of an academy for people like us. I came back because Gus said he had some inheritance for me, something to do with my parents. My guess is it had more to do with what's going on now than anything with a dollar value.”

  Ethan leaned in between them, "Your guess wouldn't be far off, Shana. Gus needed an heir to someday take up his role as steward. I had my nephew, Reed, while Gus had no clue Leon was a skin-changer. He planned to leave this glen, and his knowledge, as an inheritance to you."

  Before either of them could fully process what Ethan had just leveled on them, a pair of loaded-down UTVs came rumbling up and stopped beside them. Ben's men furiously worked to clear a path into the brush. Leon took a peek into the back of one of them and caught his first glimpse of Merle. He cautiously reached out and raked his companion's bristled muzzle. Surprisingly, Merle’s eyes creaked open, and his tail thumped twice. Then Leon was forced forward again.

  The men were through the undergrowth in no time and the party continued forward. Once through, the canopy opened up and foliage disappeared.

  Leon’s eyes could not open any larger if he tried. He thought he knew the CW like the back of his hand, but he soon realized he had never explored that particular thicket, likely due to the impenetrable thickness of the surrounding forest. He was amazed at what he saw.

  Standing alone, in the middle of a grassy depression were three silver barked, majestic versions of the larger loblolly pines found throughout the area. These three trees only stood around thirty feet tall. Yet they were much thicker in girth. They almost looked like their growth was stunted. The base of each trunk was at least fifteen feet in diameter.

  Reed fell to his knees. “Trees? This was the big secret?”

  So, Reed wasn't exactly in on everything either?

  “Yes, the last three Royal Trees still alive, that we know of that is,” Ethan said softly.

  Gus pointed to the one in the center. "The two on the ends have been used before. The one in the middle has never been touched."

  Leon studied the trees as Ben inspected them. He puzzled over what it meant for the trees to have been used before. They all looked the same.

  Instead of wasting any more time, Ben stepped forward with a heavy-duty camp ax. He cut his arm deep enough to draw blood. Then he smeared that blood over the middle tree's bark. Finally, he struck a glancing blow to the mottled silver bark at the base of the center tree. Over and over again Ben’s ax swung, gradually carving away at the ancient bark, scraping off small chunks with each blow.

  He worked his way up from a few inches off the ground to approximately shoulder height and slowly sheared away a two-and-a-half-foot strip of thick bark. As his blade bit and scraped it away, piece by piece, Leon’s nose detected the pungent fragrance of a rich, sweet smell saturating the air around them.

  Ben's Blade was dull and spent by the time he was done. Panting for breath and sweating like a stuck pig, he smiled triumphantly up at Ethan, “Done. Your turn. Do your part, old man.”

  “That’s it?”

  “For me, it is.”

  Ethan sighed. “I’ll need to use my Blade.”

  “Fine, just the wrists, though.” One of the men stepped forward to hand him his Blade and unlock the manacles from Ethan’s wrists.

  “I also need a good reason to do this,” Ethan said. His eyes slid from Ben to the tree and back once more, indecision etched across his wrinkled brow.

  “Other than the whole bullet in the head thing? Come on, man, really? Just get on with it already!”

  Ethan visibly sagged when Ben pointed his pistol at Reed. He dipped his chin in submission. Next, he proceeded to gently take his Blade, grasping it between both hands. He turned to face the tree and shut his eyes. After a moment, he took a step forward and ever so delicately drove the blade down into the wood and sliced down along the bottom edge of the bare wood.

  Leon expected the blade to stop as soon as it met the pine’s caramel-colored wood exterior, but it sank halfway to the hilt. Using one long, smooth, seemingly effortless cut Ethan sliced out a large rectangular outline along the perimeter of the raw wood. His Blade stayed in the wood until his cut was complete.

  When he finished, he tapped the center of the exposed wood with the hilt of his Blade. A small doorway, approximately six feet by two and a half feet, in the trunk of the tree slowly tilted inward, disappearing back into the trunk. Where it was, a dark hole stood before them. The physics didn’t add up, but that wasn’t exactly much of a surprise considering what just about everyone there had been up to earlier.

  The sweet aromatic smell of wood resin and pine needles had grown in intensity throughout the process. Now, even Leon’s normal senses were alive with new smells that gave him a touch of nostalgia for something he couldn’t quite place. He could only imagine the sensory overload he would be feeling if his current form wasn’t quite so back to normal.

  Ethan hadn’t even broken a sweat. “Quickly, Ben. Get your men going and get on with this foolishness. There's no telling how long the portal will last.”

  Ben took the Blade from his hands and clamped the manacles back around Ethan’s wrists before he leaned forward, “Oh we won’t be the only ones going, but don’t worry, I plan to leave you some company to temporarily replace the ones we bring along.”

  Leon saw him motion with his hands. The big man with the bandaged forehead walked forward, crouching down as he passed into the shadowed entrance of the tree trunk. He was armed to the teeth and loaded down with gear. He disappeared as soon as he stepped across the wooden threshold. Others followed closely behind, toting large bags of equipment through the darkened entrance.

  “Think of this as motivation for you two to take real good care of our path back. But just to make certain, I’m leaving a four-man crew to help keep an eye on things. Don’t worry, we shouldn’t be gone long. Once we secure a headquarters around the drop zone, we will begin commuting back and forth to better establish our territory for an eventual full transition from our world to the old world. You people play nice and, within a year, it will be like we were never here.”

  “Ben, stop. This is insane. You don’t really know where this leads. No one has used a Royal in over five-hundred years, and according to our records, that person never returned.”

  Ben just laughed. “There we have it. No one has ever explored the path home because your fearless Elders haven’t had the balls to take the leap! Let’s go, boys. Time to make some history.”

  Leon was shoved toward the tree. He saw Reed tossed forward into the trunk’s abyss before any of them realized what was really happening.

  Shana went next. Her legs were shaking, but to her credit, she didn’t flinch when they moved her forward. Gus was at least able to tell her goodbye and offer a small word of encouragement before her guard hurried her through.

  When it came Leon’s turn, he at least knew what to expect. Ethan bellowed, “When Reed offers, take the Blade! Take the Blade, Leon!”

  Leon reached up and braced himself against the entrance to the trunk. He shrugged off his impatient escort’s prodding from behind. Straightening himself, he took a look back and caught a glimpse of the anguish in his grandfather’s eyes. Gus’ voice cracked as he spoke, “Don’t be a sucker for this man’s lies boy, come back to me son! Take care of Shana and bring her back as well if you can. The Blade Leon, the Blade is the key!” He gave Gus a silent nod. Then he turned and slowly stepped forward. Just before he crossed the threshold, Gus’ gravelly voice rattled the forest, “I love you, boy! Ya hear me? I love you! Don’t you forget…”

  # # #

  The light behind Leon immediately disappeared as he passed into the dark wooden v
oid. He couldn't tell if he was in a tunnel or a cavern, but he felt no walls around him as he fumbled through the darkness. All sight and sound behind instantly cut out when he stepped through the void. He was all alone.

  The air was still, and any lingering forest scents were gone. Yet, as his eyes adjusted, he saw a faint light up ahead. Not knowing what else to do, he moved forward, toward the light. One foot in front of the other. A soft muffled thud sounded off from each step he took.

  It could have been mere moments, or much longer, there was no true measure of time as he trudged forward. However, images subtly materialized before him along the journey. It took a minute to realize they were his memories, from a detached perspective, kind of a highlight reel of sorts. All of them consisting of brief fragments from his life. Each one gradually passed before his eyes as he continued his march.

  The first image to appear was the shadow of a skinny blond-headed, almond-skinned child, dressed in rags, half-naked and wide-eyed with fear. The boy was around five or six years old, and he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, through clusters of familiar-looking loblolly pines.

  Light grew a bit around him, and he saw a slightly younger version of Gus with a hired hand, helping that same small boy out of a muddy ditch along the side of a dusty Farm-to-market road.

  The realization that he could see a younger version of himself, fell on him like a sack of bricks. All at once, he remembered the gnawing hunger from that day. How it paled in comparison to the sheer fright coursing through his veins. He witnessed his younger self attempted to fight Gus and the other man, Sheriff Tony, when they first tried to haul him up. The indecision that crossed his little eyes when Gus extended a hand to help him brought to his mind a perennial fear Leon thought he’d left behind long ago. Faintly, very faintly, he remembered something he had long forgotten about that feeling of terror. The panic that drove him was for something behind him, something even further back in his past. Yet, try as he might, the memory of that elusive threat continued to slide from his grasp.