The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  “Lirili-” I started, but she cut me off, one finger on my lips.

  In one fluid motion, she tossed the blankets and sheets off of me and threw one leg over my hips, pinning me to the bed. She leaned over, hair falling to encircle our faces, and kissed me passionately, tugging gently on my lower lip as she pulled away. She grinned at the stupefied look on my face, and somehow, the negligee was over her shoulders and head and onto the floor.

  When she was finished with me, she climbed off, letting me slide down to lay on the bed before cuddling up next to me. Hazy with satisfaction, I brushed my fingers through her hair.

  After a few minutes of this, she retreated from the room. I briefly considered following her, but I knew she’d return soon enough. I waited patiently.

  When she returned, she was in her usual bed clothes, hands behind her back. She timidly approached and knelt beside the bed. I sat up, raising an eyebrow at her. Blushing, she brought an incense burner up onto the bed.

  “Will you Join with me?” she asked hesitantly.

  A small laugh escaped me from the depths of my surprise, and I grabbed her hands.

  “Of course, love,” I said gently, brushing my lips across her fingers. “What’s the occasion? We haven’t done this since our wedding.”

  She looked up at me coyly from beneath her lashes and lit the red incense sticks.

  “You’ll see.”

  I inhaled the sweet scent and settled back to enjoy the process. I felt when the Join occurred. Lirilith flooded the bond with reserved excitement and a small slash of fear. I tried to show her my absolute acceptance and love, and it must have worked as she opened herself fully.

  I watched from a distance as her experiences for the last two months zoomed by in a blur, almost too fast to comprehend. They only flowed slowly for a few brief instances. I withdrew when she missed her month’s bleeding twice in a row but drew closer when anxiety and depression built at the idea that whatever caused her barrenness had inflicted some new horror on her.

  She went to a healer once the expected second month came and went, staying silent the entire time to keep me from worrying. I sat next to her in the healer’s front room, watching her clench into a ball and wishing there was some way I could have helped.

  The healer brought her to the back, and my wife described her troubles to the portly, middle-aged woman. The healer asked a few follow up questions regarding appetite and general well-being, and upon receiving the answers, she chuckled merrily.

  “From where I’m standing, my dear, you’re suffering from the most desired condition for a woman,” she said with a smile.

  Lirilith stared at her blankly.

  “Why, you’re pregnant, dear!”

  The Join cut off abruptly, leaving me stunned from the sudden lack of oneness. I gradually sorted through which pieces were me and which were her and came to understand the implications of what my wife had shown.

  “We’re pregnant?” I asked uncertainly.

  “Yes,” she answered in a pleased voice.

  I whooped, jumping out of bed and enfolding her in my arms. I kissed the top of her head repeatedly and ended up resting my chin there.

  “We have so much to do!” I whispered fervently. “Setting up a nursery, buying a crib. Alouin, how are we going to manage your charity work and my clinic with a child?”

  I shook my head roughly.

  “Not something to worry about now. So many people to tell! Arivor will be ecstatic.”

  Lirilith patted my back gently.

  “Eri, I need to breathe,” she mumbled into my chest.

  “Right. Sorry,” I said, letting her go.

  We grinned stupidly at one another for a moment.

  “We did it,” she said proudly, and I nodded, tears forming in my eyes.

  Heavy, insistent knocking sounded on our door, interrupting our joy. Such an occurrence was not unusual, but it never brought anything good.

  “Stay. Inside,” I said firmly, jabbing a finger toward her abdomen.

  Her eyes opened wide at the implication.

  I grabbed my sword before I headed downstairs. It had mostly collected dust since the war, but every now and then, it served as an effective deterrent for troublemakers.

  I answered the late night summons, keeping the naked blade hidden behind the door.

  “Let us in, Uncle Eri,” Arivor requested pleasantly, although his strained smile and fidgeting feet screamed agitation.

  Rafe stood awkwardly behind his father, wordlessly taking in his honorary uncle’s home. Being a close relative to a Councilor, he’d never been allowed near the merchant quarter where I lived.

  “Please?” Arivor asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Yes, of course!”

  I opened the door wider and stood to the side. My wife waited anxiously at the top of the stair despite my instructions. Independent woman that she was, she never did as told even when the command was for her own good. She’d have to learn she was responsible for more than herself soon.

  “Lirilith, can you please get Rafe some water and maybe a snack?” I called up to her.

  She dashed down the stairs and ushered the child to the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered once they were out of earshot.

  “A mob’s after Rafe,” Arivor answered, his face tight with anger and worry. “I knew the neighborhood found his recovery unnatural, but this… I never thought… Some of the people after him are ones I thought to be friends, Erianger!”

  I hated this city sometimes.

  “I need to get him out,” Arivor continued once he’d calmed. “Do you still have contacts in the slums that might help?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot,” I said condescendingly. “Lirilith! We’re going to need the emergency packs!”

  She’d retrieve them from where we’d hidden them in the chimney flue. I’d always known they’d be put to use someday, but I’d thought I’d be the one running. It was only a matter of time before the men who ran this city tired of my science experiments and my blatant disregard for their religion.

  “Go see my mother. You remember her from that one time we switched places for a day when we were children?” I asked.

  “Of course I do!” Arivor smiled faintly at the recollection. “She was lovely.”

  “I haven’t spoken to her in years, but even still, she’ll help if you tell her I sent you.”

  Again, a fist pounded on my door followed by a man yelling my friend’s name.

  “Go out the garden and through my lab,” I told him rapidly. “Are you armed?”

  Arivor lifted his army issued sword.

  “Make sure that’s clearly visible at all times,” I said. “Should keep the unsavory lot away. Now go!”

  Arivor pulled me into an embrace.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, and he was off to retrieve his son.

  I waited until it sounded as if whoever was at my door was going to break it down before opening it myself. I affected the sleepy look of one just roused from slumber.

  “What is it?” I mumbled. “Arivor’s not here. Why are you screaming his name outside my home?”

  The city guard shoved me aside, and icy fear washed over me. If the guard had come for them and they weren’t bothering to properly ask for entry into the home of one who might harbor them, what did that mean for Arivor and Rafe?

  Lirilith screamed from the kitchen, and I heard the sound of a pan smacking into flesh before clattering to the ground. A guard with a shiny new red spot on his arm dragged my struggling wife into the entryway, and I glowed with pride even through the fear.

  “Control your woman,” the guard grunted, tossing her to me.

  He stomped away, and I grabbed her arms and forced her to look at me.

  “Lirilith, I need you to go upstairs to our room, sit in the middle of the bed, and stay there until I get you,” I insisted, my tone deadly serious. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”
/>   She kissed me and took the stairs two at a time. She probably wanted to help me with the problem, but the sad truth was that, much as I wanted her assistance, there wasn’t much she could effectively do. As a woman, most of society viewed her place as quietly allowing her man to handle a crisis such as this. If she stepped away from that role, no one would respect her enough to listen to what she had to say.

  The city guard finished trashing my home and seemed ready to leave. When the last of them crossed my threshold, I readied to slam to door shut and return to bed.

  A shout sounded down the street. The guards took in the commotion and turned back to me.

  “Bring him too,” their chief said gruffly.

  They roughly seized my arm and dragged me into the street, and I caught a glimpse of Arivor on the cobblestones and Rafe struggling with a guard before my own contingent swallowed me.

  “Dad!” Rafe screamed behind us.

  We tromped out of the merchant quarter and into the noble’s, stopping in front of the Council Chambers. The guards pushed me to the top of the stairs and retreated.

  Below, an incensed, barely contained crowd of people milled, the roar of many angrily muttered conversations drifting up to join the few of us on the plaza above.

  The Council waited in full ceremonial garb beside a large pile of wood with a single stake driven into the middle of it.

  The sight froze me solid, and I balked at what it meant. A steady stream of denials drowned out all other thought.

  Reive stalked to me, face grave and angry, as Arivor and Rafe were deposited onto the plaza as well. This time, the guards didn’t retreat.

  Arivor clung to Rafe, desperately brushing the top of his son’s head.

  “What are you doing, Uncle?” Arivor asked Reive anxiously.

  “Cutting blasphemy out of our family,” the Councilor answered, refusing to meet his nephew’s gaze.

  He gestured, and the guards seized Rafe and ripped him from Arivor’s arms. My friend screamed and fought against the men holding him back, kicking and gouging to no avail.

  “That’s my son!” he roared. “Your great nephew, you bastard!”

  “I’m quite aware of that, Arivor. Believe me, this is for your own good,” Reive muttered.

  My friend devolved into an animal, cursing and struggling for all he was worth, while the guards dragged his shocked son to the pyre.

  Relatively ignored, I held still, motionless with indecision. I couldn’t devise a reasonable method of rescuing Rafe and coming out safely, but the boy was like a son to me. I couldn’t stand by while they murdered him.

  The guards had forgotten to disarm me, and a prominent council member stood mere feet away. I resolved to my fate and pulled Reive into a deadly embrace, dragging him away.

  “Let Rafe go, or the Councilor meets my sword,” I commanded, placing my blade to his throat.

  Instantly, everyone’s attention zeroed on me. The guards uncertainly looked to the captured Councilor, and he frantically motioned for them to wait.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked me. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

  “I’m not the one about to kill family,” I whispered venomously.

  “Oh, but you are,” Reive told me with gravity. “If you kill me, the guards will kill you in turn. What will happen to Lirilith once you’re dead? The widow of a heretical criminal won’t last long by herself. And of course, there’s always the baby to consider.”

  My grip loosened. He knew Lirilith was pregnant?

  “Isn’t your wife supposed to be barren, Erianger?” Reive continued. “If the masses are in such an uproar concerning the miraculous recovery of a child of a Councilor’s family, how will they react to the conception of one from yours?”

  He was right. They’d consider my baby demon spawn. Lirilith would be ripped apart to ensure it never saw the light of day.

  “Let me go, do as you’re told, and I’ll offer them protection. I’ll produce reputable healers that can profess to knowledge that will clear both of you from taint.”

  My wife and child. Could I sacrifice them for my brother and son? It was an impossible choice. Arivor and Rafe’s eyes bored into me with such hope that it tore me apart.

  Grunting with frustration, I released my captive. The guards rushed toward me, but Reive waved them off.

  “He won’t be a problem. Proceed.”

  They tied Rafe to the stake.

  “Daddy!” the boy shouted.

  Arivor growled at his captor and attempted to break free again.

  “I love you, son!”

  Rafe frantically looked to me.

  “Uncle Eri, help!”

  It pierced my soul, digging deep and breaking something central to who I was. I turned away, and Rafe’s screaming rose in pitch and volume.

  They lit the pier. The panicked shrieking clawed at me as the roar of the fire grew.

  This was just cruel. Out of all the ways they could have chosen to murder the boy, they picked this? Something that would linger and cause enormous pain? Vicious, righteous anger shook me.

  My sword claimed my attention, an otherworldly fascination taking hold. They’d failed to take it from me again. I almost laughed, but another terrified wail interrupted it. I’d condemned Rafe. Could I also bring him Mercy?

  My eyes drifted closed, and I flung my sword at the source of screaming. It cut off, to my relief.

  I reluctantly raised my eyes to the fire. Rafe’s head rested as if in slumber atop the blade protruding from his neck. He wouldn’t suffer.

  “NO!” Arivor howled with rage and grief, an inhuman noise booming louder than any voice should.

  Black tendrils spiked from his hands into the guards next to him, and they dropped. He yanked one arm free of those holding him and swept a wave of darkness at the Council. The swell never reached its targets as one of the more clear-minded guards smashed a sword pommel into the back of my friend’s head. He slumped, unconscious.

  Angrily, Councilor Reive pointed the rattled guards at me.

  “Get him to the dungeon!” he yelled.

  But at that point, I didn’t care. I let them take me, too wrapped up in guilt and grief to protest.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rustling in the woods woke me. I gently rose to my feet and drew my sword, making as little noise as possible.

  Technically, at this point, I was supposed to sprint to camp and raise the alarm. After all, what was a man who couldn’t kill supposed to do against Doldimar’s scouts? Something stopped me this time. I suppose I was tired of running away.

  A figure on all fours burst from the brush, barreling straight for me. I could make out the veins of spidery black shooting over its bare skin in the moonlight.

  It was one of Doldimar’s new soldiers then. The dark lord’s methods of producing the abominations had yet to be determined, but they were the bane of his enemies. Impervious to pain and even death, the only way to truly stop them was by hacking them to pieces or lopping off the head.

  My enemy rushed me with sword raised, and I deftly dodged and swung at its neck. I fully expected my attack to stop just shy of harming the abomination, but to my surprise, its head flew from its shoulders.

  I was stunned motionless for the amount of time it took the body to hit the ground, and then, I was racing back to camp. I blew past the guards, through the lines of waking soldiers, and into our tent. I drove my sword down onto Reive’s head with all of my might.

  He woke to find its point wavering above his eye.

  “Really, Erianger, I thought we were past these games,” he muttered grumpily.

  Huffing with irritation, I sheathed my sword.

  “I was testing a theory,” I said shortly.

  “Did me sleeping help with your impediment?” Reive asked sarcastically.

  “Obviously not, since you’re still alive, but something HAS changed,” I said excitedly. “I KILLED a scout.”

  “Where?” Reive asked.
/>
  “South end of camp. Don’t worry,” I added at Reive’s concerned look. “I was pretty far out. It saw nothing”.

  “You killed it?” Reive asked dubiously.

  “I know!” I paced back and forth. “You know what this means, yes? Maybe I’m not so useless after all. Maybe I can do something besides keep watch.”

  I stopped pacing and faced Reive.

  “Maybe I can kill Doldimar.”

  The blank slate of a world seemed boring on Raimie’s second time through. He waited patiently on the neatly trimmed grass for Alouin to present himself and tried very hard to ignore the keening in the background.

  He didn’t have long to wait as the nondescript man stepped out of the air, once again too distracted to fully acknowledge Raimie right of the bat.

  Alouin’s clothing had changed. His pants and shirt clung to him like a second skin, and lights flashed up and down the fluorescent cloth embedded in the suit’s sides.

  “Another primeancer?” the god muttered. “You lot don’t come around much, but when you do, you drop like flies.”

  “I’m back,” Raimie said with a wave.

  Alouin froze. He gave a strangled cry, wrapping his fingers around an invisible neck in Raimie’s general direction.

  “I told you to find a tear in your reality if you wanted to talk, not to get yourself killed again!” he hissed, gritting his teeth.

  “One: I tried that. You took your sweet time answering,” Raimie protested. “And two: it’s extremely difficult to stay alive when you’re up against immensely powerful enemies, and everyone refuses to teach you ways to fight them.”

  Alouin fell silent. He glanced up at the miniature war overhead, and Raimie was tempted to join him in spectating. He kept his gaze firmly level with the ground.

  “I’ve been a bit busy fixing disasters in other realities. It’s difficult to keep track of every little detail,” Alouin murmured as way of apology. “As for training, are you not with Kheled yet?”