by David Oliver
The Great Hearts II
A Game of Gods
David Oliver
Copyright © 2021 David Oliver
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of quotations in a book review.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Recap
Important people to remember
Part I
Present day
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Present day
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Present day
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Present day
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Part II
Present day
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part III
Chapter 28
Present Day
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Present Day
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Recap
The Great Hearts follows the story of Calidan Darkheart, Imperator of the Empire, both as a kind hearted but scarred youth, struggling to achieve the strength required to exact revenge on a horrific monster that slaughtered his village, and as a fully-fledged Imperator, his innocence long since lost in the wake of difficult missions and horrible tasks.
Together with his best friend, Cassius, he fled the massacre of the village, injured a man who he would come to be friends with, and bonded with Seylantha, a gigantic black panther who was one of what was known as a Great Heart. Intelligent, powerful and seemingly capable of providing Calidan with enhanced abilities, meeting Seya changed Calidan’s life forever.
Along with the Tracker, the man who had hunted them from the village only to be crippled by a great boar and soon became a firm friend, the group arrived at Forgoth, met with Major General Kyle who became their surrogate father and trained in the ancient art of Kaschan with Tyrgan, ex-bodyguard for the Emperor.
The Imperators are a secretive order within the Andurran Empire that answers only to the Emperor. Assassins, spies, warriors, leaders - Imperator training is brutal and unyielding with the survivors forged into efficient tools for their Emperor to wield. Whilst in Forgoth, Calidan and Cassius met Simone and Merowyn, two such Imperators, during their hunt for a dangerous and seemingly unstable Imperator-in-training called Rya.
Injured during a climactic fight with Rya, Cassius and Calidan were treated by none other than the Emperor himself, a man of huge proportions and untold power, and they eagerly joined the ranks of the Imperator Academy. Together with Ella, Sophia, Scythe, Rikol and Damien, the rest of their dorm, they overcame any obstacles in their way and progressed into the second year where they left to investigate a location described in a journal that ancient librarian Korthan passed to Calidan.
Deep in an ancient cavern in the desert they met with Ash, an artificial intelligence who revealed the origins of the mysterious magic known as seraph, along with the knowledge that an ancient demonic lizard called a skyren resided within the cave before turning hostile and refusing to allow them to leave.
Alongside Merowyn, Simone, Kane and Sarrenai, all fully fledged Imperators in their own right, the group managed to defeat both Ash and the rampaging skyren, but not before losing one of their own.
Present day Calidan was heading far into the barren north with a very different Cassius, one who was far larger than the average human and defined by Calidan as being completely and utterly insane. Together they encountered a group of thyrkan, a strange race of lizard-like beings that had struck from the north in the past decade to crush everything they had encountered. The fight enraged Cassius to the extent that he couldn’t suppress his demonic side anymore and he transformed into a skyren, slaughtering everything that stood in his path.
Attempting to stop the transformed Cassius from slaughtering human slaves, Calidan sprinted into a mine shaft and quickly learnt why running shouldn’t be done in an unstable mine.
Important people to remember
Calidan
Protagonist, Imperator in training (Imp), cold hearted killer in present day.
Cassius
Calidan’s best friend. Insane and gigantic in the present day. Imp.
Ella
Ex street rat from Forgoth, Cassius’s partner, Imp.
Sophia
Talented archer from nomadic tribe, Imp.
Scythe
Skilled warrior from nomadic tribe of the desert plains, Imp.
Rikol
Ex street rat, Imp.
Seya
Seylantha, Great Heart (gigantic panther), bonded to Calidan.
Emperor
Larger than life, charismatic with hints of a darker soul.
Rya
Corrupted Imp who Calidan, Cassius and Ella fought and killed.
Simone
Imperator who began the hunt for Rya.
Merowyn
Imperator who began the hunt for Rya, appears to have a bound creature fighting for control within her.
Kane
Primary instructor at the Academy for the Imps.
Adronicus
Weapon master at the Academy.
Korthan
Wizened historian at the Academy. Calidan’s friend and boorish instructor.
Charles
Ancient enemy of mankind, revealed as having bonded with a demonic spirit. Master of shadow seraph and revels in using it to control others.
ASH
Artificial Intelligence discovered in the desert
Tracker
Meredothian hunter who was forced to join in the attack against Calidan’s village. Trained the boys in woodcraft.
Damien
Imp. Killed by a robotic scorpion at the whim of ASH
Kirok
Ex-Imp. Forced himself on Sophia and was brutally broken by Calidan in retaliation. Removed by Academy staff and not seen again.
Part I
A Winter to Remember
Present day
Glowing red eyes,
Blood-soaked claws,
The shadow of a friend.
It turned out that running into a mine whilst being chased by the large, scary, demonic version of your large, scary, insane friend was not a good plan. I had plenty of time to reflect on this and the error of my judgement as the tunnel floor collapsed beneath me. At least that’s what I decided to tell anyone who cared to listen, if I made it out of this dark hellhole. In reality my reaction was much more of a base instinct. It involved more of a high-pitched scream followed by a loud thud and a lot of groaning. Again, not something I planned to tell my fanbase of one, Cassius, when he wasn’t tr
ying to eat me. I’ll pretend that I athletically bounced from wall to wall before landing like the graceful and deadly Imperator that I was. It wouldn’t even be that much of a lie. I certainly bounced.
With another groan I managed to find my feet. Thankfully I had had some common sense to imbue some of my limited seraph into myself before I hit the ground, limiting the damage the fall had done. Nothing as spectacular as the mighty entrance I had made into the mine whilst attacking the thyrkan - the scaled beasts that had conquered many of the northern territories, coming out of nowhere in the last decade to become a major threat to humanity’s survival. Now though I kind of regretted that flashy entrance. It had seemed like a good idea at the time and really caught the thyrkans’ attention, but I could really have done with some more seraph right about now.
That’s the problem with the stuff. Seraph, magic, call it what you will, you never have enough of it and it takes a good while for your reserves to refill. I can totally see why the old civilisations of this world created the Great Hearts. A much larger pool of seraph to draw from? Count me in. And for a time I had been one of those lucky few but-
No Calidan. Stay on track. Survive first, reminisce later.
I patted down my body checking for broken bones, finding none but discovering a plethora of cuts and bruises in their place. Satisfied that I was, technically speaking at least, in ‘one piece’, I picked up my blades and inspected them in the pitch darkness of the mine. Most mere mortals would have struggled with this act, but my eyes see more clearly than most, peeling back the layers of darkness with ease. Thankfully the two swords, Asp and Forsaken, the most priceless items I owned, were as good as ever. Not chipped, scraped or damaged in any way. Even after having fought trolls, demons, countless thyrkan and no small number of people, the blades’ ability to look brand new still amazed me.
Sheathing my weapons, I turned my gaze to the walls. Smooth, cut rock on the immediate walls around me turned to a seemingly extensive natural formation that disappeared into the gloom. A look up confirmed that the top of the pit was barely visible, and thankfully Cassius must have got stuck before falling into the pit with me. Hopefully he would forget for a time and allow me to figure a way out of this place and so with a heavy sigh I leant against the wall and considered my options.
They were few.
Could I climb out? I gazed at my hands; I potentially had the strength to climb up...though bringing more of the mine down on myself was definitely a possibility. Plus, chances were that upon reaching the top I would be food for a certain demonic man-beast. Of all the ways that I had imagined myself dying - a frighteningly long list at this stage in my life - being eaten was probably my least favourite. Silly really, considering that my speciality was ending beasts that like the taste of human flesh.
So, to climb or to explore?
After a few more moments of lamenting my situation I wearily dusted myself off and strode into the cavern, reasoning that whatever I might find couldn’t be worse than an angry Cassius.
Hopefully I wasn’t wrong.
Chapter 1
Decompression
Five weeks and six days after departing the hole in the desert that had claimed our friend and close to four months since we had initially set out, we arrived back in Anderal and the Academy. Little seemed to have changed in our absence and yet it felt like a much smaller place. I had expected to feel happy at the return to the Academy, eager to return to the relative safety of its walls, but memories of Damien haunted our every step as we trudged down the cobbled paths we knew so well.
Still covered with the dust of our travels Kane, Merowyn and Simone led the way to a small complex of buildings that had so far stood closed to us Imps. Inside were baths, steam rooms, a fully equipped gymnasium complete with a multitude of punch bags as well as a number of rooms that appeared to hold nothing but fresh plants and gentle incense.
“What is this place?” Ella asked as we walked up to the door. Simone and Merowyn had already gone inside without a word to the rest of us.
Kane started, as though he hadn’t even considered that we didn’t know where we were. “Apologies young ones,” he said gruffly, “I forgot that you hadn’t been in here before. This is known by Imperators as the Decompression Chambers.”
He raised an eye at our confused expressions and let out a sigh. “Missions are hard. Some in different ways. We’ve had small attempts at talking about what happened in the desert during the return trip but it is really only when you get, for want of a better word, home, that you find that your mind begins to really wander. And believe me, it can take you down some strange and dangerous paths.”
I eyed Rikol as Kane spoke. The loss of Damien had hit us all hard but Rikol by far the hardest. The usually talkative troublemaker had barely said a word during the entire trip back.
“This place is designed to be whatever you need it to be. A place to relax, a place to let out your rage and hate or a place to meditate and come to terms with events. There are bed chambers further down and clothes and food will be provided whenever needed. We will all be here for a week at the minimum. Do what you need to do and use this time however you choose.” He turned to go before stopping and swivelling back around. “A word of advice. Don’t ignore your emotions. Imperators become desensitised to a great many things over time, but that is not necessarily a good thing. Bottling everything up is not a wise approach and may make things worse down the line. Help each other, and find me if you want to talk or just to have an ear to listen.” With a final nod to us all he walked inside and left us to our own ends.
On the second day of our stay in the decompression chambers I found Rikol hammering at the punch bags like a man possessed. There was no attempt at technique, just hurting himself and the bag for the sheer sake of it. Rikol’s attitude had changed the most since Damien’s death. Once his sarcastic nature had been underlined with good humour and his quick wit had ensured that everyone laughed. Now he brooded alone, his wit fashioning itself into barbed comments. The journey back across the sands had earned a stinging lash from his tongue for almost everyone in the party, with the only one he had held back for being Merowyn, perhaps in acknowledgement of her actions regarding Damien. Simone, Kane and Merowyn had said nothing about the changes in his personality and just suggested to give him some space to grieve.
Personally, I believed a month was enough.
“Hey Rikol,” I said stepping into the room. “Want some company?”
He ignored me and punched the bag harder, the skin on his knuckles bloody and torn.
I took another step. “Rikol?”
He paused with his shoulders hunched and eyes on the bag. “Leave me alone Cal.”
“Want to talk?” I asked with another step.
“Take another step and the bag won’t be the one getting hit,” he snarled, eyes wild. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
I did what he asked.
The others of the dorm spent a lot of their time together, making use of the gyms and baths in a much less destructive way than Rikol. I knew that they, like me, were hurting in the wake of Damien’s death, but the pain was becoming less intense. We had all extended olive branches to Rikol whenever and wherever we could but his replies ranged from mild civility to pure hostility. We could only continue to be there for him and to offer our support whenever he required it.
On the fifth day of our stay I found him in one of the meditation rooms, his gaze staring at nothing at all. Slipping inside I sat down against the far wall without a word, content to wait next to my silent friend. He acknowledged my presence with a slight tip of his head, but returned to contemplating whatever his thoughts were revolving around. After nearly an hour I began to stand, ready to go and join the others for the evening meal.
“Did we succeed Calidan?”
Inwardly startled it took me a second to reply. “What do you mean?”
“Did we succeed in our mission in the desert? Was it worth our time and effort? Was it worth Damie
n’s death?”
“I don’t think anything was worth Damien’s death, Rikol” I replied.
“Then what was the point of it all?” he exclaimed angrily. “What was the point in him dying?”
I thought for a minute before responding. “I might not have thought Damien’s death worthwhile Rikol, but that is because I am a selfish bastard like you,” my slight smirk softening the words. “For someone like Damien or Cassius do you think that they believe it wasn’t worth it? Finding buildings from before the Cataclysm, recovering information about seraph, skyren and Great Hearts from a person that wasn’t real in the same way as you and I are and confirming the existence of and removing a threat to the surrounding tribes of the desert - a feral skyren. They would think that their mission made the world a better place. And they would probably be right.”
In truth they were wrong. It was some time until I realised it, but these days my opinion is that we made the world much, much worse.
Rikol was silent for a few minutes. When he finally spoke it was barely above a whisper.
“He didn’t deserve to die.”
I stayed quiet, recognising that Rikol was more talking to himself than to me.