Forged

by G S Michaelson

  G.S Michaelson

  Hunter Book 1

  Forged

  First published by Independently Published 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by G.S Michaelson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  G.S Michaelson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  Fourth edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - A Chance Meeting

  Chapter 2 - Bounty Hunters

  Chapter 3 - Night of the Marauders

  Chapter 4 - Spark of Rebellion

  Chapter 5 - Parley in Pesque

  Chapter 6 - Confrontation

  Chapter 7 - Newfound Teamwork

  Chapter 8 - Douglas West: Captain of the Marauders

  Chapter 9 - The Journey Begins

  Chapter 10 - The Shining Spectacle of Karn County

  Chapter 11 - Hunters’ Tour

  Chapter 12 - Impending Crisis

  Chapter 13 - Brotherhood of Yesterday

  Chapter 14 - Bloody Betrayal

  Chapter 15 - Life in Limbo

  Chapter 16 - Discovery in the Dark

  Chapter 17 - Clash in Karn County

  Chapter 18 - Richard: Head of Security

  Chapter 19 - Under the Bridge

  Chapter 20 - Jason and Timothy

  Chapter 21 - Timothy and Tyler

  Chapter 22 - Tyler and Zeke

  Chapter 23 - Taking Everything Back

  Chapter 24 - The Day of the Festival

  Chapter 25 - Invincible, Implacable

  Chapter 26 - Spare the Rod

  Chapter 27 - Like a Butterfly

  Chapter 28 - Thicker Than Water

  Chapter 29 - The Voice from the Past

  Chapter 30 - Break the Chains

  Chapter 31 - The Zealot, Unhinged

  Chapter 32 - Rise of Dawn

  Chapter 33 - Forged in Flames

  Epilogue

  Epilogue II

  Also by G.S Michaelson

  Prologue

  Blood streamed down his forehead as he stumbled from the wreckage. The little boy pulled himself together, and ran, crying as he did, ignoring the torn bodies of his family and the burning buildings around him. He did not feel his pain, he simply ran and ran, hoping that some merciful angel would pick him up and save him from this hell. A hell he did not make.

  “Hey there kid - are you lost?”

  His angel was here. But hell’s demons were not far behind.

  10 years later.

  Derek picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He slipped out of his home for the past decade, looking back only once as it shut forever, now Derek would head out into the world on his own, to accomplish the mission that the man known as West could not.

  Chapter 1 - A Chance Meeting

  There was one thing Derek knew without a doubt. From the moment of birth, all living things would eventually become ashes and dust. No matter how sturdy one appeared, how strapping and how brave, death came for everyone. Knowing this wasn’t enough to stop him sadness from welling up inside him.

  “So, this is it.” West said. Derek could tell he was struggling. His body had been flickering in and out of existence over the past month, and he had started to forget things he should have known. The man had pretended not to be perturbed by this, but one could only hide from fear for so long.

  “It has been a long ten years,” Derek said. “I still can’t thank you enough for saving my life back then.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” West replied. “What kind of man would I be if I needed a reason to save someone and gratitude after? You’re alive. That’s all the thanks I require.”

  West flickered again, vanishing for a full minute this time. Derek waited for him to reappear. As long as his ability remained active, the West avatar would always reappear. After all, the real West had died several years ago. This was a ghost, a lingering remnant of his essence that had outlived him.

  West rematerialised, his face now showing visible strain. Derek noticed he was now missing an arm. If he squinted, he could make out the ethereal outline of the arm struggling to take shape, but not quite having enough energy to. It truly was the end.

  “Despite that, I still…” Derek paused. “I still want to thank you.”

  “'You saved my life, I’m doing the same.’ That’s one memory I’ll keep a hold of forever -- even after I die. Besides, the world outside here is restless, I stirred up the hornet’s nest more than ten years ago.”

  “You’re growing weaker.” West’s right leg had now also become ghostly. The man pretended not to notice, but reality was more insistent than before.

  “I know, just let me finish. I know what I;m asking is hard, its impossible, it’s not something I could do myself. Just know that you can back out at any point. There’s no shame in giving it all up and being normal.”

  “If I wanted to be normal, I wouldn’t have spent ten years as a hermit in the Soltair,” Derek said. “The townspeople think I’m weird, just staying in this boundary by myself, only coming out twice every year for more than a few minutes. They’d never understand.”

  “I would judge a weirdo who was hanging out with a ghost for ten years over growing up like a normal child,” West made a disgusted face. “I mean, what the hell’s your problem kid? Let some people pass on like normal dead people. Geez.”

  “Weirdo brat.” He smiled, seeing his other arm begin to fade as well. “Well, Whatever you choose to do — I have one more favour. Consider these as my last words.“

  “Just spit it out before your mouth disappears,” Derek said. He refused to stop making eye contact. If he did, the tears that were building up inside him might have just spilled out. He didn’t want the first and last images West had of him to be of him crying. A confident, self-assured man, that’s what he wanted to project. So he stared into his surrogate father’s eyes and waited for his final piece of advice.

  “Its a bit selfish and a little desperate, but can I ask something? When you’re happy with whatever path you go in your life after this -- when you’re surrounded by friends and whatever new family you build. In those moments of happiness, would you be able to spare a little thought for this failure of a man who couldn’t even survive to raise his actual son?”

  “Is that all? I thought it was something easier, like drowning the sun in bath water or pulling the moon down with string. You’re asking for a lot.”

  The air crackled, and West looked down at the ground. His lower body was now rapidly vanishing. He had been the one to break eye contact first, so Derek didn’t feel self conscious when the first tears came. He looked back up, a picture of uncertainty and fear and found the same expression mirrored on Derek’s tearful face.

 
; “Of course, I will.” Derek blubbered, “You don’t even have to ask.”

  “That’s good, ” West said. “Now that I think about it, it wasn’t so bad being —”

  But it was too late. Whatever West had wanted to say was lost in the ether.

  The air cracked and tore itself apart violently. West’s ability had vanished, and his avatar was nothing more than ashes on the ground. He may not have been able to finish it, but Derek already knew what he would have said.

  Now that I think about it, it wasn’t so bad being your father.

  * * *

  It was hot the day Derek finally left Soltair, where he had lived for the past decade. Decked out in a sweatshirt, t-shirt and boots, Derek projected an image of uneasy strength. The only traces of his injury from the accident was a scar on his cheek. His well-muscled body and short dreadlocks only helped to add to the air of mystery around him. He couldn’t remember his last name. He had discarded it all those years ago. Now he was Derek. No last name. He was emerging from a place no one could ever go, into a place no one would ever want to go.

  Ten years ago, he and his family had been caught in a horrible accident. He had been the only one to survive, with horrible injuries. Thinking himself already dead, and blinded by pain, he wandered the scene of the accident, before being saved by the man he would know as West. He had thought West was a mercenary, and like many nowadays, he had the accompanying Godspark to prove it. West could have continued running, he could have kept going on his quest. It was not to be, the sight of a crying 11-year-old boy must have broken him. He had awakened Derek’s own Godspark powers. Their side effect healing the child’s injuries. West had then used his powers to create a spatial dimension that the boy could hide in without being caught.

  There he needed neither food nor water. It persisted even after West had died. Derek had then lived in the tiny village of Soltair afterwards. He was a borderline hermit, training and building up his strength alongside West’s avatar.

  Derek hadn’t limited himself entirely to Soltair for the past decade. He had flitted to and fro, making trips to the nearby town of Pesque to buy food and materials with money he paid for with manual labour he performed. His Godspark made this particularly easy. He needed the company as well from time to time. It was hard to form lasting relationships when he could only leave West’s space for a day or two every six months. Derek had managed without them.

  This time, he was leaving for good. Turning wistfully to the woods where he had spent most of his life, he emptied West’s ashes into the wind.

  “Thanks,” he whispered, as the last remnants of the man who had saved him so many years ago danced in the air. Then they were carried away on the wind, blown towards the sun.

  * * *

  Simon lay in the underbrush. His brother, Zeke, was somewhere in the forest. They were a pair of bounty hunters — most times. When times were tough, they would help relieve dubious individuals of their likely ill-gotten property.

  It wasn’t all bad, Simon reasoned. By hiding in places where no one innocent would be in, they would certainly only catch unscrupulous individuals. People who should or would have had bounties on their head anyway. Two nights ago, they had caught Jeff ‘The Flayer’ on the outskirts of the woods on the other part of town. Jeff had put up a good fight, but Zeke was better than him, and so he had won. His training as a Rune Knight still came in handy years after he had left.

  He heard the rustle of underbrush and became still. Activating his Godspark, Hephaestus, he manifested a gauntlet around his arm. Hephaestus’ gauntlets could fire plasma beams. Strong enough to cut through the toughest armour one could expect to find out here. Their quarry wasn’t even wearing any armour.

  The man through the path, brushing away foliage as he approached the clearing. The sun behind him accented his brown skin. He carried nothing but an oversized backpack and wore a red sweatshirt and tattered pair of shorts.

  This was the path used by the Marauders and their suppliers, he reasoned. From the looks of this man, he was undoubtedly one of them. They would capture him and turn him in.

  Charging up his gauntlet, he fired at the man’s back. The shock would knock him out or stun him at the very least, and Zeke, no doubt hiding somewhere in the bushes, would restrain him.

  The beam missed entirely.

  Derek had leapt out of the way just as the beam was fired. Extending his arm, he fired a web line from his palm and yanked Simon out in one clear motion. There was a blur of movement behind him, and the web line was cut in half, freeing his captive.

  Zeke, sword drawn, appeared like every bit the tough guy Derek was trying to project. His muscles were defined. His hair, cut nearly to his scalp. His sword glinting with assured wickedness.

  “Those were some nice moves earlier,” Zeke spoke, “Who are you — and why are you here?”

  “This is not ‘The very short Adventure of the Man who got Jumped In The Forest by Two Strangers.’ Just who are you two? Is there any reason I shouldn’t be here?” Derek had perched himself on a tree branch, watching them from above.

  Zeke regarded the man in front of him. He had no reason to lie to them if he was innocent. Then again, considering their brief encounter, he had no reason not to lie to them. He had powers, so that means he had the Godspark inside him. From the web release and agility, he had shown, he was most likely someone with spider-based powers. He wondered how that would translate into actual combat. He gripped his blade tighter.

  “You don’t seem to be a bounty hunter or a Rune Knight, yet you have the reflexes of one.” Zeke pointed his sword at Derek, “I’ll only ask you once. What do you want?”

  Derek replied. “I’m looking for information about the Arche. I know I’ll find it in Pesque.”

  The other two went still. Few people were brave enough to look for the Arche. Especially since the Orisha and Nephilim remained the dominant powers in the world. Looking for the Arche was probably, a death sentence. Or the chance for the adventure of a lifetime.

  “Many people come looking for the Arche,” Simon could relate to the feeling. “If you’re looking for Pesque, you’ll find it about 15 miles to the east.”

  “I know where it is.” Derek dropped to the ground, still watching them warily, “You sure you aren’t going to shoot me once I turn my back though?”

  “There’s no point attacking you,” Simon replied, “You aren’t someone who’s dangerous like we assumed.” He didn’t add that Derek would likely avoid it again, that much was already implied.

  “Thanks anyway.” Derek tipped an imaginary hat at them, nodding at them both, he continued in the direction they had indicated.

  “What do you think?” Simon asked, looking at his partner.

  “I don’t think he’s dangerous.” Zeke said, watching Derek walk off. “I think I’ve seen him around before once or twice in Pesque, never seems to stick around though.” His sword, no longer needed, was retracted and placed in its sheath. He slung it on his back.

  “Besides, the Marauders have no one who can move like that aside from Matthias and Reuben, and he isn’t either of them.”

  “Come on,” He motioned to Simon, “It’s getting late.”

  They would stake out the forest over time. They would catch and bring in a few bounties over the next few hours, but what was on their minds was the strange, strange man they had encountered. Neither could imagine just how much he would change their lives.

  Chapter 2 - Bounty Hunters

  Derek arrived in the bustling town of Pesque the day after his meeting with the two bounty hunters. He had been there yearly for odd-jobs over the last 10 years. In truth, he hadn’t really needed to ask them about the Arche or mention Pesque. He knew the place well enough, he just needed to gauge their reactions to the question he asked. To prepare himself for what he assumed would be a common reaction. He wasn’t sure the man he was looking for would still be here. West had assured him that he would, even after he had died, but sons rarely di
d what their fathers wanted.

  It was a small town, the streets were full of cars, and the markets people. Despite all that, it remained a very grey coloured town. It sat on the coast of the continent Vive. One of the remaining six if his geography was still accurate. From where he stood atop a building he had scaled, he could see people going along their lives, talking, eating, walking, shouting and living. He hadn’t really lived like a normal person in a while. He still didn’t plan to. For at least as long as it took him to find the Arche. He would confirm what it was, decide what to do about it, and then move on. He owed West that much. Or, he could abandon his quest right now and join the masses. He gazed down once more, then leapt away. His body making the decision for him.

  Landing in an alley, he noted that his pitiful finances didn’t have enough money to rent a room for more than two months. That was more than enough time.

  From what he could recall of Pesque, the local bounty hunters had a building on the east side of the city where people could sign-up, pick up and deposit bounties. If others were looking for the Arche, it would be there that they would congregate. If he hung around there long enough, he would be able to pick up titbits. A change of clothes later, he stood outside the local bounty hunters guild.

  It was an imposing building, with a gloomy exterior. It was all dark colours and imposing statues. The bounty hunters guild sure knew how to splurge on their architecture, Derek smirked to himself. The people outside were no less imposing, many of them in their 30s to 50s, some even in their 60s. Not all had all their natural limbs, many had artificial limbs and cruel scars from injuries picked up decades ago. Weapons were carried freely, with the rare antique gun, long curved knives, bo-staffs, and chains being among the varieties of weaponry he encountered. The smell was a mix of sweat, blood and various other scents Derek hadn’t managed to identify just yet.

  Sitting in the lounge and pretending to read, he overheard titbits of interesting conversation. Of the Nephilim, the local warlords on the continent. The Orisha that stood proudly on the other continent. Of the resistance that still stood, decades after the original leaders had perished in combat. Of weakening alliances against them from yet other continents. Of backroom deals and unfathomable power.