by E. A. James
His laugh was cut short, however, when three other Terran men came marching up to them.
That was where the man’s rush of courage came from—his backup.
“Bron,” Kira said, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should just go somewhere else.”
“Screw that,” Bron said, still holding tightly to the man’s fist. He increased his hold, and the sound of crunching bones rippled through the air.
“Damn it,” Thor muttered as the three men grabbed onto their Terran companion, pulling him back from Bron’s grasp.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Bandurian?” the largest of the men asked.
“He started it,” Bron said, holding his hands in the air.
“I don’t give a fuck who started it,” the Terran man continued, “you’re not on Bandur anymore. This is Earth, and we don’t take kindly to visitors harassing our own. So if you don’t want a beating of galactic proportions, we suggest you leave.”
Bron laughed, reaching out and grabbing hold of the Terran man’s shirt. Even though he was large for a Terran, he was still dwarfed by Bron’s immense size.
“I haven’t been on Bandur for a long time,” Bron said, smiling down at the man menacingly. He cocked back his fist and left it fly, crashing into the side of the man’s face.
“Well shit, I forgot how much he enjoys this - should we step in?” Kira said to Thor.
Just as she spoke, one of the other Terran men rushed forward, hitting Bron in the side, square in the ribs. Bron let out an amused cry that sent chills running down Kira’s spine. Still holding onto the first man, he swung him around, throwing him into the second, sending them both flying back against the wall.
“I don’t think it would be fair if we did,” Thor replied, noting Bron’s obvious upper hand.
“I didn’t mean like that,” Kira replied, stepping forward just as another Terran newcomer to the fight was ready to join in.
"Move, woman, or you'll regret it," the man said, looking down at her with an expression demeaning enough to cause her blood to boil.
“Oh, screw it,” Kira said, lifting her knee and sending it square into his gut. Just as he leaned forward, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and pushed him back. Tripping over his own feet, he joined his companions in their heap on the floor.
The three of them groped about for a minute, fighting to get to their feet. Just as they did, fists balled and ready to fly, Thor stepped in. Even though he wasn’t as large as Bron, the sight of him clearly had its impact on the Terran men. The swiftness, precision and shocking speed with which he reached out and clamped his hand around one of the men’s throat left the other’s speechless.
“That was insane!” one of the men said, his eyes wide as he looked at Thor. “What are you, Arcanum or something?”
“If you leave now, I promise you won’t find out,” Thor said, resting his free hand on Kira’s shoulder and pulling her back.
With her hands still clenched into fists, she gave into his soft tug. The men exchanged contemplative looks, glancing over their shoulders at their friend who had initiated the fight. Kira saw their eyes shift again, this time looking quickly at something in the front of the bar.
“Fine,” one of them said, grabbing onto his friend’s wrists and tugging him forward. Thor released his hold on their companion, throwing him forward forcefully. The man tripped over his feet two or three times before he finally gained his footing and scurried out of the bar after the others.
Kira was about to let out a sigh of relief when she felt Thor’s hand fall from her shoulder. It wasn’t that it fell, so much as it was pulled away.
She turned around slowly to see a broad-shouldered, heavily armed security officer holding onto Thor’s wrist with one hand, pointing a sidearm at Bron with the other.
“Damn it,” Kira muttered as the security officer radioed for back-up.
FATE SWORN
CHAPTER ONE
Light swooped through her eyelids and kissed the forefront of her mind.
Leonie jolted in bed, her eyes snapping open.
A star—its fire a soft blue and its center a pure white—languidly spun in the center of her massive bedroom. Its glow brushed over all the furniture, gleaming against such a magical force.
Leonie’s heart leaped to her throat and twisted. Arms trembling, she scooted back and then sat up. She stared—stared—at this small star as her mind raced with frantic questions. The star wasn’t warm, wasn’t blinding—it just…
It twisted and stretched vertically. The blue burst out of existence and the white withered into a dark gray.
Leonie jumped back, arms raised in a feeble defensive position.
You know better, she thought to herself. She tensed her arms and clenched her hands into steady fists. Then she took a deep breath in preparation to scream for the guards outside her door.
The gray blob shuddered, curled, brightened—and then it formed into a shape of a giant man with a broad chest and hairless flesh. The man’s eyes, taller than they were wide, sparkled despite the dullness within the pupils.
Leonie choked on her scream, her insides freezing over.
“Mathsus?!” she thought as a silver light wrapped itself around the giant man—acting as a robe.
The giant man—no, the god floated some centimeters off the floor and blinked. “Young Duchess of Asawiss, I call upon you.”
Leonie threw herself to the floor and bowed. “Mighty god of fate, I bask in your glorious presence.” She blinked owlishly at the floor, her knuckles pushing against it as she struggled to remain motionless—to not tremble. “I—I’m humbled, so humbled. I do not know why you have come to me, but I’m honored by your presence.”
Mathsus said nothing for a moment.
Sweat seeped out of the back of her neck.
“Rise, child,” Mathsus said.
She shot up to her feet, crossing her arms over her breasts and hoping beyond hope that her hair wasn’t as frizzy as it usually got at night.
Mathsus’s face was like a stone mask, unmoving and indifferent. “A war approaches the kingdom of Sallimor and the kingdom of Maylorn. I invoke you to prevent it from becoming so.”
Her stomach dropped. “Sallimor? I…but what of Corsonall? They’ve threatened to overtake Maylorn before, but…?” A wisp of a breath shuddered from her mouth.
“Forgive me, I don’t understand. If this is what will happen, then why not stop it yourself? Or call upon someone in Sallimor or Maylorn?” She blanched the moment the words left her lips and stumbled back.
“Not that I—I meant no offense! I’m a mere mortal, and I’m ignorant of such things. That is the only reason I ask questions, so I am no longer ignorant—so I can best understand your wishes.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I invoke you because there is no other, and my will needs no explanation.”
“Of course,” she said quickly. “Apologies. My sincerest apologies.”
Wind shoved her back against the wall, fiery light exploding in front of her. She choked on her breath as her chest went aflame with panic, eyes watering and stinging. And then everything went dark and quiet.
Mathsus was gone.
She blinked hard a few times, a tear crawling down her left cheek as her vision cleared. She couldn’t move—couldn’t think—could barely inhale and exhale over and over again.
A god…the god of fate…her? Why her? What made her worthy for such an important task?
Her stunned state vanished instantly, and she jumped before dashing out of her bedroom.
The guards outside her door jolted. “Young Duchess,” one of them gasped. “What—?”
“Mathsus,” she said, grabbing the man’s plated shoulder and shaking. “Mathsus. Mathsus—” She shook her head and ran down the hallway, toward her parents’ bedroom. “Mama! Papa! Mathsus!”
The guards hurried after her, their armor clanking with each step.
The guards who stood outside her parents’ bed
room doors frowned at Leonie—manic as she must’ve looked—but they didn’t stop her as she burst into the room far bigger than her own. Guided by memories more than sight, she ran through the darkness until her shins bumped into the large bed. “Mama! Mama!” She grabbed her mother’s forearm.
Her mother jolted and gasped, her hand snapping to Leonie’s fingers. “Wha?”
Her father jolted next.
“Leonie?” her mother croaked, her grip on Leonie loosening. “Leonie, what’s wrong?”
Leonie spluttered out what had just occurred, though she still wasn’t completely sure what had just occurred. A vision? A physical visiting from the god?
By the time she was finished, both of her parents had sat up in their bed and her six siblings had gathered by the bedroom doors. The guards stood stock still in their positions, though their pinched expressions betrayed their obvious discomfort.
“That was quite a dream,” her father said, yawning. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his bearded jaw. “I’m glad that even as an adult now, you still dream so fantastically.”
Her face fell. “It wasn’t a dream!”
Her mother patted Leonie’s shoulder. “My dear, I’ve had lucid dreams before—some involving the god fate, others involving the goddess of love—and I understand how cathartic the experience can be. I’m afraid you get your vivid perception from me. A blessing and a curse, truly.”
Leonie’s shoulders sagged, heart sinking.
Her little sisters giggled and whispered to one another, one of her brothers loudly saying “madness” before laughing.
Leonie clenched her teeth and spun toward them. “It’s not madness! I know what I saw and heard, and it’s important!”
Her mother sighed. “Janette,” she said, waving at one of the nannies, who lingered in the hallway, “please take the children back to their rooms. The excitement has come and past.”
Janette curtsied in her nightgown like it was a lavish dress. “Yes, Duchess.” Then, whispering her commands, she motioned for the other children to move down the hallway.
Leonie tensed when she heard her siblings laughing harder, the brats.
“Go back to sleep,” her mother said, squeezing Leonie’s shoulder. “Everything will be clearer when you’re well rested.”
Her father stretched, yawned again, and then sank beneath the covers. “We’ll all have a good laugh in the morning,” he murmured.
Leonie’s eyes darted between both parents. “You…you really don’t believe me.” She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.
Her mother raised her hand from Leonie’s shoulder and placed it against her cheek. “We’ll discuss this more in the morning, dear. Everything’s alright, I assure you.”
Leonie pulled away, her gaze lowering.
Her mother called over another nanny—Leliana, an elderly woman who remained with them in their gorgeous pine mansion even after retirement. The old woman, who had also been lingering in the hallway, walked past the guards and approached Leonie.
“Come now, dear,” Leliana said. She wrapped her arm around Leonie and guided the young woman out of the room. “Your mother is always right, is she not? Let’s heed her advice now.”
Their steps were slow and small, bare feet padding over cold wooden floors. Leonie stared at the floorboards and allowed Leliana and the guards to walk her back to her bedroom. Once there, the guards returned to their posts outside the door as Leliana tucked Leonie in—like she used to do so many years ago.
Leliana patted Leonie’s head. “Would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”
Leonie clenched her teeth, but she forced herself to smile. “No thank you, madam.”
“Very well. Goodnight, dear.”
“Goodnight, Leliana.”
The old nanny shuffled her slow, exhausted frame out of the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
Leonie glared at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes before she blinked them away. For a few excruciating moments, she considered everyone’s doubts—thought about her own state of mind, if it was damaged somehow.
Then she huffed and got out of bed.
She had stepped around the squeakier of floorboards as she packed, got dressed, and prepared for the journey ahead. Outside her bay window, Asawiss—the kingdom on top of the world’s snowiest mountains—stood in sheer darkness. The clouds blanketed the sky and prevented starlight from shining over the pine forest and the crisp snow.
Dressed in several layers—her head covered by a thick brown hood—she shouldered her pack and crept over to one of her smaller windows. She opened it, an icy breeze rustling her clothes.
Her chest tightened. She glanced over at the door, images of her family tormenting her mind.
No. She must do this. It was a holy calling, after all. If her parents wouldn’t believe, then she must rebel—for the time being, at least.
She took a deep breath before facing the window again.
CHAPTER TWO
She trudged through the snow, wandering past her village and then entering the dense forest. The scents of pine and moisture—the sounds of skittering creatures—she was familiar with it all. She breathed with ease as she trekked through the darkness. Though her compass was useless at night, the slant of the land reassured her that she was traveling in the right direction.
Down.
The light was sluggish—and then rapid—as it rose above the horizon and colored the sky. The clouds, massive and puffy as they were, had gaps within them where sunlight peeked through and touched the land.
By the time Leonie walked on moist grass instead of snow, the sun was fully above the world of Olnorma.
She beamed at the grass—the bushes—everything—as she entered yet another forest, the chill refreshing her lungs rather than freezing them over.
It had been ages since she had seen any living foliage other than pine trees.
Leonie stopped beside a slanted tree and crouched down, her gloved fingers running through the patches of grass. Delight tickled her breastbone.
She was no doubt out of the Kingdom of Asawiss now, but did she reach the border of—
“Halt!”
She went rigid before forcing herself to turn toward that deep, gravelly voice.
There stood a man with the flesh of stone, his eyes like washed brown pebbles. His cheekbones were high, as were his shoulders, each step making his rocky muscles grind against one another. It sounded like it should’ve taken a great effort for him to move yet he moved with ease. He wore a dark green uniform with a thin hat placed on top of his spiked head.
A Gargan. It had been beyond ages since she had seen one of their kind.
Slowly, Leonie rose to her feet while keeping her hands open. Even if she could punch the Gargan without hurting herself, it would be wise to appear unthreatening to a law enforcer.
He stopped before her and narrowed his eyes. “Are you leaving the Kingdom of Sasawa or are you entering it?”
She swallowed. “I’m entering it.”
He glanced in the direction she had come from. “So you are from the Kingdom of Asawiss. What is your business in Sasawa?”
Like a fool—like an idealistic, tired, hopeful fool—she told him the truth. She told him about Mathsus, the upcoming war—all of it, despite her family’s reactions warning her to be silent.
The Gargan frowned at her, his glare softening as his eyes expressed an annoyed kind of pity. “I see. Well, I’m afraid it is my duty to blaspheme against your holy mission and send you back home.” He pointed up the mountain. “Go, or I must detain you for trespassing with harmful intent.”
“Harmful?! I just said I mean to prevent a war!”
He nodded. “So you did.” He kept pointing up the mountain. “Now, be on your way. See a healer of some sort if you can.”
Her nostrils flared, her hand trembling with the urge to slap away his pointing hand. “Why is everyone so faithless? Miracles happened in the old tales,
did they not? Why is it so preposterous that a miracle could happen again?!”
The Gargan rolled his eyes and lowered his blasted hand. “The old tales were merely tales, nothing more. If you wish to make something more of them, fine, but leave others free from your insanity. The rest of us don’t need to suffer the preachings of a madwoman.”
“Looks like you’re suffering enough already.”