Legend of the Sword Bearer: Tempest Chronicles Book 1

by Jeremy Fabiano

  I followed up with a quick left jab to his nose. Then, instead of punching with my right, I brought my right elbow around. The impact to his temple spun him around and sent him tumbling to the ground, dazed.

  It didn't seem to slow him at all. Even disoriented, he swept his foot out to trip me. I jumped back out if his reach.

  He smiled, blood running freely from his nose. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he said. “I see you been learning some new moves.” He pulled out his daggers. I reached for my swords. “Playtime's over.”

  We traded blows, swords on daggers for what seemed like an eternity. We were both getting tired, and it showed. Each of us tried to capitalize on that weakness, but we were too evenly matched.

  I needed to end this. Now. I activated Temporal Shift and the world slowed to a stop. I thrust forward to stab him in the throat, and the strangest thing happened. His eyes. I could have sworn for a second that they moved. Mid-swing, he unfroze in a cloud of blood-red mist and parried my attack. I Dashed backward and returned to a guard stance just in time to avoid his return swing. Time returned to normal. The crowd of onlookers gasped.

  “He’s as fast as Aba!” cried out Garstil. Horror and surprise had possessed his features. The gathered crowd gasped as well.

  Flint and I stood fifteen feet apart, facing each other, blades at the ready. I stared him down, eyes locked with his. Flint’s eyes grew wide. Everyone around me gasped and screamed. I wasn’t sure why until I heard a noise behind me, and I turned toward it. Hexagonal plates of energy exploded out and away from my abdomen. That’s when I felt someone punch me in the side of my stomach… Or so I thought.

  I looked down in time to see a hand holding a knife handle embedded in my gut. Then shock hit me. Slowly, I looked up into Damon Tod’s grinning face. He’d pierced my shield and my abdomen.

  Damon Tod laughed, twisting the blade. “You’re already dead,” he said, inches from my face. “You just haven't realized it yet. Your body will soon give out on you, and then you will die. Slowly. Painfully. Alone.” I felt the blade cutting as he slowly pulled it out. It was then when the burning began. I watched as my already low HP bar turned green and began to deplete even more on its own. The poison and blood loss were too much for my body to handle. I dropped my swords as my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground.

  27

  From the depths of the well…

  With around 20 HP left, I looked up. “I’m still alive, asshole,” I said, struggling to my feet. “And I’m very much not alone.” I willed power into my body, channeling every ounce of energy I could. I felt the barrier meant to protect me. It blocked me from reaching deeper within myself. “As long as I draw breath, I swear I will destroy you.”

  SADA, disable safeties. I need more power.

  “Are you sure? Remember my warning…”

  I'm sure. There's a Human saying: I'm going all in. It means—

  “I am aware of its intended use. Noslen taught me how to play poker. Good luck, I will trust your judgment. Hopefully, we survive this. Safeties disabled.”

  I felt the barrier to the upper limits of my strength dissolve. It was all at my fingertips, just begging to be used.

  Damon Tod laughed. “Tell me, Abalonious. What is more powerful than royal magic?” I said nothing as I gathered my willpower. “The blood of the Sword Bearer. You shall make a fine thrall. With your body as my weapon, I shall rule over all of Tempest.”

  I smiled. “No,” I said. “You won’t get my body. If I die here, my body will be destroyed. If I don’t die here, you’ll be destroyed.” I laughed, pain wracking my body. This felt just like the hospital. I looked him in the eyes. “You’ll end up with nothing regardless of which way this plays out. You tipped your hand about the prince.” I pointed at Lord Monroe, who now looked furious at having been made a fool.

  Damon Tod frowned. “I see,” he sneered. “Then I suppose it will have to be enough to kill you and have you out of my way for good.” He pulled a staff from within his robes, and my eyes widened.

  “You recognize it, don’t you?” he asked. “The Staff of a Thousand Souls. Can you not hear their beautiful anguish as they scream out in torment?” He grinned, waving the staff in a semicircle around him. Crimson energy poured out of the staff and into the ground. Undead began to claw their way out of the dirt.

  All chaos broke loose at once. Monroe's guards drew weapons and joined the fray, side by side with my party. We had a common enemy and could not let the undead spread too far.

  Thasgrin swung his big hammer around and banished the undead. Damon Tod roared in frustration and charged at me. The power within me had finally reached critical mass. I triggered Burning Rage and dumped every speck of energy I could into it.

  I'm not entirely certain what happened after. I have a vague memory of Damon Tod rushing me while shrinking. Apparently, I had grown to a massive size. I remember punching the wall and missing. The eight-foot-wide stone column I'd punched exploded into powder.

  The necromancer tried to use a containment spell to hold me down, but it had little effect on me, other than to piss me off even more. Red lightning arced off everything that neared me, vaporizing undead and invigorating my allies.

  Slag joined in the fight. I jumped forward, landing in his path. When I backhanded him across the arena, he hit the wall and didn't get back up. Then my HP plummeted to 5. I began to shrink. By the time I was on my hands and knees, I had 2 HP remaining.

  SADA, safeties.

  Damon Tod appeared in front of me and kicked me in the face. The world upended, and I landed on my back. 1 HP left.

  SADA? Are you there?

  “Power…depleted… Unable to com—ply.”

  “I am really going to enjoy this,” he sneered. He sauntered over to me as if he had all the time in the world. I looked around. Anyone who could be of any help was busy fighting off monsters and zombies of some kind or another.

  Damon Tod stood over me, an expression of pure mirth and ecstasy on his face. “Now…you die.” He convulsed for a moment and let out a wet-sounding gasp. A sharp blade exploded through his heart and was quickly retracted.

  Flint wrenched the staff free of Damon Tod's hands and used blood magic to jump backward quickly. Beams of magic and energy converged on the necromancer's body.

  I looked around, and the sight that met me was magnificent. Garstil channeled a massive beam of arcane energy which intertwined with Sai's lightning and Morogan’s draconic energy. Across from them, Thasgrin’s holy energy swirled with Orin's vampiric power, clashing and mixing. Ashford protected Lord Monroe from a group of undead.

  At first, a shield had stopped all of the attacks. Moments later, the shield collapsed, and the massive detonation was replaced by an anguished scream as Damon Tod was rendered into a pillar of ash.

  Movement caught my attention, and I looked over at Slag. His eyes flared crimson, and he shrieked. The blast of sound stunned everyone.

  Flint approached me. “Hey, bro, nothing personal, you're just in the way. I'll let you live as thanks for keeping Tod occupied. Next time I see you though—”

  “I know. Knife in my back, yada, yada…”

  Flint smiled and made finger guns at me and winked. He walked over to Slag and put his hand on the large man’s shoulder. “Peace, bitch,” he said, lifting the staff. Black energy surrounded them, and they vanished.

  The severity of my injuries overwhelmed me, and the last thing I remembered was a loud thud as my head hit the dirt.

  28

  Epilogue

  The next few days were a blur. Several people tended to my wounds. I was in a ton of pain, but it was nothing compared to the last weeks I had spent at the hospital.

  Even my dreams were inundated with flashbacks from the last several attacks. And all of them ended with my body broken upon the ground.

  An eternity later, which I was told was only two days, I was standing on my own feet again.

  I stood at the edge of the dock in G
arrigill with my party. We waved goodbye to the crews and captains of the Swordfish and the Vengeance.

  “I'll miss them,” I said. “Good crews.”

  “Aye, of that there be no mistakin’,” said Thasgrin.

  “Morogan feel we see again soon.”

  Sai chuckled. “Most likely. Everything here seems interconnected in some way or another.”

  Noslen appeared before us, smiling. “Likely sooner than you imagine.”

  “Dude. Some warning. If I die, it's likely going to be from a heart attack,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

  Noslen laughed. “Perk of the job. Keeps you on your toes.” Everyone laughed. “Excellent work, my friends. You've done me proud.” He looked around at all of us and smiled. “Rest up, more adventures loom on the horizon.”

  “I figured it wasn't over,” I said.

  “No,” said the Caretaker as he cracked a small smile. “Not by a long shot.”

  We stood watching the artificial sunset which befuddled the mind. It was the most beautiful and real sight I had ever seen.

  THE END

  The adventures continue in Book 2 - A Fable of Flame!

  A note from the author…

  Thank you for reading my novel. This project was quite the undertaking. But it was also fun to write and I’m happy to be able to finally share it with you.

  If you would be so kind as to take a moment and leave a review, I would be extremely grateful. Reviews are the only real way for new, self-published authors to be seen on Amazon, so your positive comments will help immensely.

  Feel free to visit my website to sign up for the mailing list to receive updates on upcoming releases, as well as receiving our “starter library”, a collection of prequel novellas for each series, when they become available.

  Jeremy Fabiano

  About the Author

  I.T. hero by day, father, husband, and godling by night.

  Jeremy Fabiano is an emerging author of several exciting genres which include: LitRPG, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Post Apocalyptic, Medieval Post Apocalyptic and Non-Fiction.

  Join him as he descends into the depths of his imagination, bringing you the exciting adventures he discovers along the way.

  Jeremy Fabiano read his first fantasy book at fourteen years old. An old ratty copy of “The Hobbit.” Tolkien forever dominated his imagination as he fell prey to every RPG game out there.

  At sixteen, a friend from school introduced him to his first multiplayer RPG: A M.U.D. or multi-user dungeon. This ancient construct required the player to use a terminal program to connect to a remote text-based system. No pictures. No animations. It paved the way to being enthralled by World of Warcraft, where he saved the world countless times over the span of half of a decade.

  In mid-2018, he reached out to several authors seeking advice. Shayne Silvers was among the first to respond. He encouraged and inspired Jeremy to work harder than he ever had before. Shortly after, M. D. Massey also gave some much-needed advice, eliciting even more changes in the aspiring author.

  By the end of 2018, he had teamed up with T.M. Edwards and co-authored “Roger” - a book in Edwards’ “Tales From Beyond The Apocalypse” series. This would be the first of many books published by Jeremy Fabiano.

  He plans fifteen books in the 2019 year, and fifty+ over the next three years.

  Keep reading. Keep learning.

  Never be afraid to reach for your dreams

  To get in touch:

  www.jeremyfabianoauthor.com

  www.amazon.com/author/jeremyfabiano

  Acknowledgments

  Words cannot express my gratitude. But, I’ll attempt it anyway…

  There’s an old saying which I’m going to carelessly steal half of: It takes a village.

  Writing a book does indeed take a village. And I’d like to thank some of those wonderful people who made my dream a reality. The people below have supported in one way or another throughout the entire project. From writing advice to marketing theory, from reality-checks to late-night conversations that last until sunup, you are the reason this book is possible.

  Shayne Silvers. I’ve loved your stories from the get-go and can’t wait to catch up on the latest. Thank you for always pushing me to do better. For never letting me be mediocre and complacent. I might not have had the balls to go forward with this project if you hadn’t believed in me and encouraged me to do better.

  Kim and her team at Deranged Doctor Designs. I was literally brought to tears when I woke up and checked my email when the first rough drafts were delivered. The story might be good, but the artwork makes it real. I can’t express my satisfaction with how great the images came out. http://www.derangeddoctordesign.com

  Kelly Hartigan, editor at XterraWeb. I’d always thought my editing and writing skills were pretty decent. I sent you my best work for my sample edit, and you showed me just how far I have yet to go. Thank you for making my writing better than it ever has been. http://editing.xterraweb.com/

  Mike Derryberry. You inspired the desert fight in Legend of the Sword Bearer and restored my faith in the ancient Precipice book I was writing ten years ago. That led to the creation of a set of plans for an eight+ book series, with the Bishop Archives as a spinoff / intro series. Thanks for always having my back and being a sounding board for many of my ideas.

  My wife, Brandi Fabiano. Your support of this dream of mine has been invaluable. Your illustrations brought the story to life. Thank you for always being there for me when I lost sight of the light, and for not putting me six feet under as I cast out all parts of my life to throw myself into my craft. I couldn’t have done this without you.

  There’s a whole slew of others that won’t fit on these pages, but need mentioning in no particular order. M.D. Massey, Ian Lahey, R.L. King, T.L. Branson, Brian Meeks (for the blurb help), Edward Brody, Frankie Hoston, Jonathan Fox, Dan Humphers, Jerry Winthrop. There’s a ton more, but I can’t remember them off the top of my head. I apologize for anyone I might have missed.

  Jeremy Fabiano