Former Champion (Vanderbrook Champions Book 5)

by Edmund Hughes

  “Goodbye,” said Second Wind. “You are right, you know. In what you’re thinking. I lost sight of myself, and caused so much more harm than good.”

  Malcolm wondered for a moment if Second Wind had pulled himself back from the brink. Could he close his eyes, and die a peaceful death, hoping that his copy would find the light and bring peace to the world?

  Second Wind’s eyes met his, and it seemed as though he was considering the same possibility. The energy sword in his hand, hovering inches from Malcolm’s neck, was answer enough. He would always harbor that strange, inexplicable evil inside of him.

  Malcolm stared into Second Wind’s eyes and suddenly remembered the last of Savior’s powers. The one he’d very nearly forgotten about. With all the strength he had left in his dying body, he focused on triggering Savior’s offensive illusion ability.

  He’d only seen Savior use it once before, but that single demonstration had been enough. The ability pulled forth a person’s worst fears and made them into reality, trapping them in a waking nightmare for a short amount of time.

  Malcolm gritted his teeth. It was hard to keep focus on what he was supposed to be doing. The pain was overwhelming. The only leeway he was given came from Second Wind’s hesitation in killing him, those precious seconds of eye contact they held.

  And then, he did it. The illusions triggered. Second Wind’s pupils dilated, and his face suddenly shook with horror. The energy sword disappeared from his hand, and he fell back into a sitting position.

  “You!” he cried. “No! What did you just do!”

  Second Wind stood up and spun around in a circle. Malcolm clutched at his stomach, trying to focus on Savior’s invulnerability to buy himself a few more minutes of life. Second Wind was looking around frantically, seeing and experiencing whatever it was he feared most.

  “It’s me!” cried Second Wind. “It’s Malcolm! Why… It shouldn’t matter! Tapestry! Rose!”

  Second Wind let out a body shaking sob. Malcolm didn’t want to guess at what he was seeing.

  “Kill him…” Second Wind’s voice came out in a sob. “Not me. I’m just as much him as he is…”

  Malcolm wondered what would have happened if he’d let Tapestry and Rose stay for his confrontation with Second Wind instead of sending them off. Would he be on the ground, bleeding to death, if he’d managed to set his own fears aside and accept their help?

  So be it. If I had to sacrifice my life to keep them safe, it was the right choice to make.

  “Please…” muttered Second Wind. “I didn’t mean to. Don’t look at me like that…”

  Malcolm stumbled to a crouch, knowing that the illusion would eventually start to fade. He had to let go of his bleeding stomach to make a grab at Second Wind. Even distracted, his copy was still stronger than he was in his injured state.

  Second Wind snarled and got a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, reacting on instinct in lieu of accurate visual information. Malcolm felt something leave him in a sudden rush. For a moment, he thought that it was the rest of his blood, splashing out of him. Then, he realized that he couldn’t feel any of his powers anymore.

  It almost made him laugh. They would do nothing for him in death, and had only served to make his path complicated in life. It was fitting that the last few moments of his existence would be as a regular human. Ordinary and simple.

  Malcolm twisted, keeping hold of Second Wind, and used the last of his energy to tip his copy into the sinkhole. Second Wind tumbled, and shockingly, didn’t react in time. He reached a hand back toward Malcolm, though it was clear from the desperate hope in his eyes that he saw something or someone else, an image created by the illusion.

  “Help me!” cried Second Wind. He landed on his back in the magma, and flames instantly burst into life across his body. “Help… me…!”

  His hand stayed raised in the air. For a couple of seconds, Malcolm watched as his regenerative ability desperately tried to keep his body intact. Then, he vanished into pool of molten rock and metal, a small explosive burp of moisture escaping in his wake.

  This is only fair. He was my mistake. Maybe I was supposed to die, to take responsibility.

  Malcolm collapsed onto the grass, making as much of an attempt as he could to hold his wounds. His body still hurt, but he felt good. He’d done it, even if it had taken all that he had to give.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt like a hero. Malcolm smiled, tasting blood in his mouth. He was proud of himself.

  EPILOGUE

  Rose pushed by another thick barrier of branches and finally stumbled out into the clearing she’d been expecting for days. The polite gas station attendant who’d given her directions had told her that the village was a half week’s hike from the edge of a dead-end logging road. It had been four days since she’d abandoned her truck and set out on foot, and she’d been on the verge of losing hope.

  The village was similar to the rumors she’d heard in passing. Olympus was a grand name for a humble collection of log cabins and storage lean-tos. She wasn’t sure what she’d anticipated from the people who lived in the far-flung outpost, but hospitality was not it. Almost as soon as one of them spotted her, a tiny little spryte girl whose wide eyes made Rose’s heart flutter, the rest of them hurried over and began offering food, water, and a place to stay for the night.

  “Really, that’s okay,” said Rose. “I brought camping supplies with me. I came looking for a friend, not to crash your peaceful existence.”

  The man who’d been doing most of the talking frowned at her. His hand rested on the little girl’s head, slowly stroking her hair.

  “A friend, you say?” asked the man. “Someone native to the village? We don’t get many visitors here.”

  Rose took a moment to think about her phrasing. This was the last known location of Second Wind, or as he was known to most of the world, Zeus. It had been almost a year since the last reported sighting of him, a year that had given humanity a chance to catch its breath and start to rebuild.

  “He would have been in the area close to a year ago,” said Rose.

  She wanted to mention that he might also have arrived looking for, or in the company of Zeus, but she held her tongue. Until she knew who Second Wind was to them, it was better to take a more subtle approach.

  Even the little she’d said seemed to be enough to lock up the lips of the villagers. They glanced around at each other, communicating with their eyes and expressions in the way that only a tight knit community could.

  “We did have a visitor around that time,” said the man. “Who were you to him, exactly?”

  Rose’s stomach twisted at the man’s phrasing. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words caught in her throat. It had been a year, but the memory of the last time she’d seen Malcolm still made her heart burn. He’d been so resolved in what he had to do, even knowing what it would probably mean for his own fate.

  “She seems nice,” said the girl. “Can I show her where he is?”

  The villagers looked at each other again, another resolution settled through wordless eye contact. Finally, the man who’d been doing the speaking gave a small nod with a matching smile.

  The little girl took Rose’s hand, pulling her forward through the village. The buildings were small and rustic, but carefully constructed. She wanted to ask about the history of the place, but that could wait until after she’d seen and confirmed what her heart already suspected.

  They passed through a small wall of trees with a thin trail leading through it. The girl glanced over her shoulder at Rose every couple of seconds, as though she was worried that she might disappear, regardless of whether Rose held her hand or not. It made Rose smile to see a young spryte so innocent and carefree.

  They entered another clearing. Rose had been expecting a graveyard, but ahead of her was a large garden filled with a variety of vegetables suited for the hard conditions of the Canadian soil.

  And there he was. Rose stared, blinking several times,
not enough times to hold back the tears.

  “…Malcolm.”

  He looked up at her and performed a double take so perfect that it was almost comical.

  “Rose?” His hands were covered in dirt, even under the fingernails. He looked healthy and happy, though seeing him alive in any state would have already been enough to dumbfound her. He wasn’t a demon anymore, either, which made Rose wonder about how his fight with Second Wind had gone. Well enough for him to be standing there, intact and breathing, apparently. Another question to stack on top of all the others, she decided.

  Malcolm was careful as he made his way through the neatly maintained garden, but only to its edge. He practically threw himself the last few feet toward her, pulling her into a tight hug.

  “I…” Rose shook her head. “I can’t believe it. You’ve been here, this entire time?”

  “Yeah,” said Malcolm. The silence he left after his answer said more than the word.

  “And Second Wind?”

  Malcolm smiled sadly and shook his head.

  “He’s dead,” he said. “We fought. It was one of those ‘two Malcolms enter, one Malcolm leaves’ type situations.”

  Rose giggled and wiped away more tears.

  “Well, you’re clearly still you,” she said. “Lame sense of humor and all.”

  “Thanks for noticing,” he said.

  There were so many questions that Rose wanted to ask, and in turn, so many that she knew he would ask her. She skipped over all of them to the last one, the only one that seemed to matter.

  “Will you come back?” she asked. “With me? When I leave?”

  He didn’t answer her for a long time.

  “This is my exile,” Malcolm finally said. “I did what I could for the world by stopping Second Wind, but the damage he did will never be undone. All the people he killed… It was because I was arrogant enough to think that I could use my powers however I wanted.”

  Rose nodded.

  “I don’t disagree with that,” she said. “Especially the arrogant part. But things have changed over the past year, so much.”

  “For both of us,” said Malcolm. The girl was standing next to him, and he reached down and rubbed her head affectionately.

  “I don’t think you really understand,” said Rose. “Things are peaceful now. The Champion Authority has recovered. They have a ruling council of several champions, including Wax, Anna, and Greenthumb.”

  “No Tapestry?”

  Rose smiled and pretended she hadn’t heard his question.

  “They also have a sister organization now called the Monster Authority,” she said. “Led by Shield Maiden and Fantasy. They work together with the champions to find better outcomes for demons and sprytes that are living peaceful lives.”

  “And Tapestry?” Malcolm asked, stuck on the point.

  “You ask about her, but not me?” said Rose, in a teasing voice. “My poor feelings are hurt.”

  “I already know that you’re doing okay,” said Malcolm. “Better than okay. I was worried, the last time I saw you. You seemed like you’d put a lot of the past behind you, but…”

  “I have put the past behind me,” said Rose. “I still carry the memories with me. But I’ve done a lot of growing over these past few months.”

  Malcolm nodded. A couple of seconds passed by. Rose purposely stayed silent, loving the way it made him fidget.

  “So what about Tapestry?” he said, almost demanding. “Come on. It’s not bad news, is it?”

  “No,” said Rose. “It’s big news. Now, look… The two of us were both a little shaken after you left. We ended up sitting down and having a real discussion.”

  “About me?” asked Malcolm.

  Rose rolled her eyes.

  “About lots of things,” she said. “Not everything is about you, Malcolm. The two of us actually have a lot in common outside having to put up with your foolishness. We’re friends now. Close friends.”

  Malcolm grinned at her.

  “So she’s doing okay then?” he asked.

  “Better than just okay.” Rose reached into her pocket and pulled something out. Malcolm frowned in confusion as she passed it to him. It was a picture of a baby.

  “She… found someone, then?” asked Malcolm. “I’m glad…”

  He was happy for her, although also disappointed in a way that made him feel strange and more than a little selfish.

  “The baby is three months old,” said Rose. “Do the math, you idiot.”

  Malcolm’s jaw dropped, along with the photo in his hand. He clutched at his chest and felt the world spin around him.

  “I thought… monsters were supposed to be sterile,” he said. “How is that even possible?”

  “You were in space when it happened,” said Rose. “Zero gravity works in mysterious ways. Don’t worry, she only gave me an abridged version of your… intimacy.”

  “Why didn’t someone come and find me earlier?”

  “How, exactly, do you imagine that would have happened?” asked Rose. “We didn’t know where you were, and Second Wind kept this place relatively secret. It took us months to put the pieces together, and then even longer to pinpoint where Olympus was.”

  Malcolm went totally silent, feeling joyous and overwhelmed at the same time. He slowly shook his head in disbelief.

  “What… happens now?” asked Malcolm. “I mean, I’ll come back. Of course I’ll come back. But…”

  He trailed off.

  “What do we expect from you?” asked Rose. “That’s a good question. I thought… I’d find your grave, rather than you. I guess we’ll have to tackle what happens next once we all have a chance to sit down together. But for now, I’m just glad to have you back.”

  Malcolm nodded.

  “I’m glad to be back,” he said.

  “And Tapestry will be glad to have you back,” said Rose. “As a friend.”

  “As a friend,” repeated Malcolm. “Knowing her, it’s going to take some doing to earn any trust back. But what about you?”

  Rose grinned mischievously at him.

  “That’s still up in the air, though I might be easier to persuade,” she said. “But seriously… Disappearing for a year after the way you tricked both of us? Shame on you, Malcolm.”

  He started laughing. He couldn’t help it. He put an arm around Rose and let out a sigh of relief.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  It feels strange to be at this point, after five books and countless hours spent with these characters. I didn’t initially intend for it to be anything other than a distraction from another project I’d been working on earlier this year (one that eventually frustrated me to the point of being thrown out completely).

  I’m not really sure what to compare it to. Moving to a new city, and leaving a group of tight knit friends behind? Kind of. Reaching the end of a long, epic video game series and finally seeing how the adventure comes to an end? Also a bit similar.

  It’s a sensation of letting go. I spent a lot of time thinking about these characters, how they react to problems, how they interact with each other. I’ve always been more of a methodical writer, rather than someone who can just sit down and freestyle their plots. Which means that I spend countless hours mowing the lawn, or hiking, or standing in the shower imagining (hallucinating) until I can really feel like I know exactly where each plotline and each character is headed.

  Anyway, Former Champion is the last book in the Wind Runner series, but not the last book you’ll be seeing from me. I’ll be taking two months off to devote as much time as I can to getting a head start on my next series, which will be traditional fantasy erotica. Hopefully I will manage to keep you guys updated on my progress, but if not, you can safely assume that I probably haven’t died.

  Expect my next new book in early December. And as always, thanks for reading. For updates on future releases, special promotions, and beta reading opportuniti
es, sign up for my newsletter or check out my website. Reviews are always appreciated. For a free preview of another of my books, flip to the next page.

  Edmund

  Moons of Carnathia

  CHAPTER 1

  I would give my clothes willingly to the poor and suffering, walk exposed and naked through the street. For all to see me as I am and make their own choice, including the lonely, the wandering, and the desperate, is but another test of true faith. – Iathia the Pious, Book of Stars

  ZAK

  The air was clean, and the third season sun hung halfway down to the horizon. Zakarias felt the ship swaying underneath him as he stared out across the water, observing the reflection of the knotted white clouds overhead.

  Krexellious, the rose moon, had just begun its afternoon ascent. The sky was otherwise clear, and the sea was calm and easy, devoid of the massive storms that usually ravaged the Arkaian island coasts late in the year.

  Other than the Sand Angel, there were no other vessels resting on the nearby ocean. A larger than average wave crashed into the bow, shifting the ship’s hull just enough to force Zak into gripping onto the railing he’d been using as a seat.

  He’d been on bigger ships before, but not often and not for long. The Sand Angel was somewhere in the middle of the upper size tier, fifty feet long and roomy enough to be comfortable for Zak and his three crewmates, who’d served as his deck family for the past five years.

  The water was clear, and even the gleaming stripe of the sun’s reflection wasn’t enough to obscure his view of the sea life below. A donphar pup, tiny and excitable, surfaced into a quick, somersaulting jump above the water’s surface, blasting a geyser of mist out of its blowhole.

  “It’s a little early for you to be taking a break, Zak,” said Hachia. She slipped up behind him silently, somehow managing avoid all of the creakiest planks in the deck on her way.

  You’d think she’d get bored of sneaking up on me eventually…