Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy

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Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy Page 36

by Riley Westbrook


  Chapter Five

  Lov jumped from his seat, spitting and sputtering water out of his mouth. The women had tossed a bucketful of water on top of him, to help wake him up. Tyrosh had always complained about him sleeping too much. Lov used his power, forming the water into a ball, and depositing the ball into the bucket. The woman holding it shook her head, and dropped it. The young chief laughed, glad to see he could still startle them.

  “Quit being impolite, Lov.” His mother said sternly from the doorway. “You owe these women a debt, disappearing like that. I hear you were in the middle of a ritual with them, and you just left.”

  Lov put up his hand to protest, “I didn't want to leave, I went from sitting with them to a freezing cold ice land. Portho, an ancient dragon, summoned me there to give me a warning.”

  “A warning?” his mother asked, “What warning?” Lov sensed a hint of alarm in her voice.

  “He said to watch for a green star, and that my quest needs to be finished before it arrives.” Lov said, watching for subtle hints from his mother. He saw her face tighten, just for a moment, and knew she was hiding something.

  “Well, no matter. We just continue on as planned, right?” She gestured to the women around the room. “Now then, these women think you owe them a bit of honor. They came to me to work out how you should pay it. They wanted to beat you with switches until your feet were bloody, but I pointed out it would be harder to lead if you were concentrating on the pain in your feet. Instead, they get to enact a little useless torture upon you.” Lov tossed his hands up, ready to protest. “You will do it, or I'll quit helping you with the Greatmothers. Let's see you handle that nest of spiders.”

  A low growl escaped Lov's throat before he asked, “What do I have to do?”

  “Nothing hard. They want you to eat this root.” She took a red root from one of the women, “And they want you to sit in a sweat tent for a few hours. Nothing too hard.” His mother smiled wickedly at him.

  Lov knew whatever they concocted wouldn't be pleasant, but at least he'd survive. “Fine, I'll do it.” He said, reaching out to take the root. He bit into it deeply, taking half of it. The way the women reacted told him he would regret it. Stubbornly, Lov chewed the hunk he had bitten before swallowing. Now their faces became concerned, and Lov wondered if perhaps he had literally bitten off more than he could stomach.

  Tyrosh let out a slight chuckle that slowly developed into a deep belly laugh. “Oh my god. I didn't mean for you to eat half of it. They call that a flame pepper for a reason.”

  Lov squirmed uncomfortably, feeling heat begin to emanate from his belly. He started trying to push the excess heat away from himself, but it built right back up and overwhelmed him. An escort grabbed him, taking him to the permanent sweat buildings that the orcs had built. Made of thin hard rock, they used the same black stone to make some of their cooking surfaces.

  His escort bound his hands behind him before shoving him into the rock hut. A slit let in the only light, but it was enough to brighten the chamber. Lov looked around his smooth sided prison. The fire in his belly continued to burn, growing hotter and hotter. A face blocked the slit in the door to the hut. “You okay in there? There's smoke coming out of here.”

  Lov shook his head asking, “Smoke?” Alarm filled him when he saw there was indeed smoke filling the small area, and it was coming from his mouth. “So I found where the smoke's coming from. I think I need water.”

  “You're in the sweat hut, we can't give you water.” The guard protested.

  Lov shoved his mouth up against the slit. “Give me water!” Smoke poured out as he spoke, and the guard jumped back in alarm.

  Soon the door was being pried open, and Lov was offered a cup of water. His mother strode through the crowd shouting, “Wait! Don't drink it Lov!” But the heat in his gut drove away any want to listen to her. He chugged the water, tossing the cup to the ground. “You don't understand! It's just going to make it hotter!”

  Lov sighed, then shouted back to her, “Are you kidding me?” Fire lept from his mouth now, and smoke crept out of his nostrils. “So then what will stop this?” He demanded.

  “We need milk! Get milk!” Lov struggled not to let his anger show, breathing through his nose. Smoke billowed from them, and the taste of soot coated Lov's tongue. To top it all off, Lov felt as if his blood was boiling in his veins. Someone brought milk, and Lov drank the entire pitcher. Almost immediately the heat subsided, and Lov felt his body temperature return to normal. “That was mean.” He said, gesturing to all the women around him. “Don't ever do that again.”

  “Don't ever leave us behind!” One of them shot back.

  Lov debated telling them that he didn't have an option, he had been taken against his will. But he doubted it would count for anything with them. He shook his head, determined to not let this sour their relationship. “I'll try to remember that the next time a dragon kidnaps me.” He replied sarcastically. “No matter, just don't give me any more flame peppers.”

  “Where's my mother?” Lov asked searching the crowd for her face. It seems in the chaos she had disappeared. Lov remembered what Portho had said about Tyrosh, how he had summoned her and she had refused to come. Lov wondered, What could have kept her from seeing another dragon's last breath?

  His bodyguard stepped forward, taking him in hand and guiding him to a building they had commandeered. Apparently, he'd be sleeping in their quarters from now on. Lov's dragonhunger didn't know what to think. They were paying him homage, but at the same time, restricting him. Lov quieted it, reserving judgment until he had seen what direction things went.

  Chapter Six

  “Such the pity.” Draka said, looking deep into a crystal ball. Tyrosh stood next to her, able to see the same visions as her mother. “To think of all that potential wasted.”

  “I don't know what you mean, Mother. My son has done quite well for himself.” Tyrosh replied, proud of Lov.

  “Yes, he has.” Draka patted her daughter's cheek. “Especially after you denied him his gifts for so long. He's a natural! Just think what he could be doing if you had let me teach him.”

  “What did you bring me here for, Mother?” Tyrosh demanded, stepping away from the woman who should be dearest to her in the world. The woman who was dearest, before she turned to evil. Tyrosh had seen her mother's true form. Her wings were were bony and bare, all of their majesty ripped away by the earth.

  “I can't check on my lovely daughter?” Her mother feigned hurt, her voice even showing that she took offense, but Tyrosh knew better. “You know I love you more than anything, my dear.”

  “Yes, that's why you gave me to Gendry. You loved me so much that you thought the Titanbringer, with thousands of orphans, would be a better parent to me than my own mother.” Tyrosh replied sarcastically, glaring at the elder dragon before her. “I know your lies and deceit, Mother. I learned them at a young age, as you tried to drag me down to your level before I'd even grown. Why would I listen to you now?” Tyrosh demanded.

  Draka leaned in close to her daughter, whispering in her ear. “Because, I can take that necklace off of you. You would have your full powers. With just you, your son could rule that entire continent.” Tyrosh shuddered, thinking of all she could do for her little treasure.

  The copper haired elven woman waved her hand in the air, pushing the vision away, and shoved her mother from her. “Never, Mother. I'll never let myself give in to my dark side. I'll never do anything to disappoint my sweet boy.” Tyrosh turned, and found herself back in her quarters in the orc city.

  These visits from her mother and father were becoming more and more frequent, and the fiery dragon didn't know how much longer she'd be able to resist. Tryton and Draka offered her powers back, the ability to make this world flourish again.

  Chapter Seven

  “When can we leave?” Lov asked his uncle as they walked the city. People swarmed around Lov, and his honor guard shoved them back. They had taken to calling themselve
s Dragon Talons, even taking a serpent with the Eye of Gruumnsh as their symbol. They sewed it in bright red cloth onto their clothing. Lov knew they would force themselves into his life, but he had learned to carry on as if they weren't there.

  “Any day now. The men are trained, ready to go. The Anuunaki say we have enough supplies. Hell, I even think I might not do half badly at this leading thing.” Nord replied, looking down on his nephew. He could see hard lines on Lov's face. “Is everything okay, Lov? You seem a little tense.”

  Lov laughed, a hint of madness entering it. “Are you joking? A little tense? I know you're still in charge of the army, but I don't think you understand what I'm trying to do. I'm balancing myself upon a knife’s edge, and any of these people can take it upon themselves to end it.”

  The crowd began to groan and cry out in denial. Lov's bodyguards thrust a few that stretched out hands back. “Let's get off the streets. Have I introduced you to my bride yet?” The little blue gray storm cloud walked towards his mother's apartments. “Apparently, my guardians won't let her sully me until we're done. So she stays with Mother.”

  As they walked, the Dragon Talons forced their way through the crowd, headed into the building Tyrosh and her followers had taken over. Her rooms were halfway up, huddled in a mass with children and those of low station. Lov used his guards to force the people from the area. “I didn't mean for you to end all privacy when I told you to bring them together, Mother.” The young chief chided his mother.

  One of the guards outside the door stepped into the room and smacked him upside the head. “That's your mother, chota! Behave yourself!” She stepped back outside the door taking up a guard position.

  The young half-dragon shuddered in suppressed rage as Nord stepped from the room to speak with the woman. Lov's mother stepped forward, stretching out her hands to her son. “Come here, Lovonian. Calm down. Why are you so angry?”

  “Because, Mother, you've given me a chance to be happy, but I've got to go to war for it.” He glared at her where she sat, her arms still outstretched to him. “I know what you did, how you helped the elves. I know you're the one that took out their leaders, Mother.”

  “Only because they refused to listen.” She replied calmly, taking a deep breath and walking to fix a cup of tea. “Here, drink this while we talk.” She sat and took a sip from her own cup.

  Lov dropped the teacup. “Stop trying to use your tricks on me. I know them. I've finally figured out how we dragons always seem to win, and why we always go mad.” He strode towards her, thrusting his finger up under her nose. “Our kind uses our power, and as we use it, it uses us. Soon we're its slave, we depend on it. Eventually we're driven insane by watching what we've done. Why? Why would you hide that from me?” He strode to the door, turning back to look at his mother. “I'll use my gifts Mother. They're a part of who I am, and I'll make sure that this evil is eradicated from the world. But I won't kill Martell if I don't have to.” He walked out, motioning for his Talons to follow him.

  Tyrosh hung her head in shame, she had hoped Lov wouldn't know. She knew that she'd never be able to pay the orcs back. She went to walk into her room, planning on diving onto her bed to cry. But as she lept through the air, crossing the threshold into her room, the world changed. She landed with a hard thud on the rock of a lava tube.

  A light flashed from the end of the tunnel, and Tyrosh followed it. She already knew what was at the end of it. Her father stood, holding a bright ball of light in his hands. The room he was in was brilliant white, enough to blot out all other colors. Tyrosh felt the edge of her skin become fluid as she swung her arms through the light. She concentrated, filling herself out, separating herself from the bright whiteness.

  The light disappeared, a small flame hovering over Tryton's shoulder. “That's my girl. Assess the situation, and solve it.” He strode forward, arms spread wide for a hug. "Come here, baby girl!” Tryton said his voice filled with love.

  Tyrosh put her arms out, pushing her father away. “Where's Mother?” She asked, backing away from her father.

  Tryton shook his head, “I'm shocked you would be that rude to me.” He said dropping his arms. “I just wanted a hug. Nothing more. Where's the love for the ones who brought you into this world?”

  “Brought me into it, and abandoned me!” Tyrosh shot back as she shot off back up the lava tube. “Send me back to my son.”

  Her father chased after her. “But I was going to remove your necklace!” He said as he ran.

  Tyrosh wanted to walk on, wanted to continue down the tube away from her father. But her dragonhunger wanted its freedom. “What exactly is it you want from me?” She asked, glaring at the man behind her.

  “Nothing.” He replied. “Nothing at all. Just knowing that you'll be free will fill me with joy.” Tryton stepped forwards, arms outstretched to pull the necklace from his daughter's neck. “Be free.” He pulled the necklace away, and Tyrosh found herself standing on her bed. She reached up, feeling at her neck for the pendant that had blocked her for so long. She gave a soft cry of joy, feeling that it was indeed gone.

  Her mind changed, she didn't feel like sitting here in the city anymore, holding it together for her son. Tyrosh determined there to leave the Greatmothers behind with Lov's bride to run it all. After all, she needed to keep her boy to herself.

  Chapter Eight

  Nord glared at his nephew as he came down the hallway from talking with his mother. “You are a rude, impudent shit. What the hell was that?” The skinny giant pointed down the darkened hall, “You go back in there and apologize to your mother right now, Lovonian!”

  Lov growled at his uncle, and threw a punch at him. He pulled it short an inch from Nord's nose. The tall elf laughed, a deep full bellied laugh. “I know what you need. Come with me.” He tried to grab a hold of the half-elf's arm, but Lov ripped himself free of his grip. Nord decided not to push it, and led his nephew on.

  They crossed out into the city, headed towards the practice fields. Lov reached up, grabbing his uncle's shoulder trying to drag him to a stop. “You really think training will tame this?” He asked.

  “No, but I think you've been traveling, and have a lot of pent up energy. When was the last time you fought someone? Not killed, fought?” Nord continued onwards, passing out into one of the many training grounds in the city. It was packed with orcs in all phases of training, from younglings just learning, to old veterans making arrows.

  A crude hole had been chiseled into the stone, leaving a pit ten feet wide and twenty feet long. It was meant to simulate the closed in quarters of battle, and Lov watched as two fighters trained there. The larger orc used his strength to great effect, slamming the smaller orc into a pillar that was man sized. The little one wrapped around it before falling to the ground unconscious.

  “This is the murder pit. Where you don't really try to kill, but instead work out your aggression. You need this.” Nord pushed Lov into the pit, passing him a blunted sword. “Just make it to the end.”

  Lov walked towards the large orc on the other side of the pit. He saw there were stairs behind it. As he walked, he calmly told the ugly looking ball of coarse hair, “You want to move out of my way. I've been having a bad day, and it would just be so much simpler if you moved.” The brown hairball farted, scratching his butt before flicking whatever he had gotten in Lov's direction.

  Nord watched Lov's skin darken in anger, he looked as black as coal. “I'm going to ask you one more time. Please, move. If you move then I'll be out of here, and you won't be broken.”

  The orc let out a loud belch, before sneezing and farting again. He shook his head and wiped his hand on his nose before grabbing a hold of his club again and taking an aggressive stance.

  “Alright, here goes.” Lov stepped towards the orc, watching him wind up to swing at him. The half-dragon jumped over the clumsy side swing, using the club to launch himself into a front flip. Lov swung his sword overhand as hard as he could, cracking the orc in the back of
the skull. The hairy fool stumbled forward, slamming his face hard into the stone of the pit. He fell to his back, blood pouring from a broken nose and a split lip.

  Nord jumped down, calling to the Anuunaki for help. They came, dressing the wounds and carrying the orc to a medicine man. “What the hell was that?” The tall elf demanded. “I said get past him, not break his damn neck!”

  “I fight to win, Nord.” Lov said coldly.

  “If this is the way you're going to be, we won't be ready to leave for weeks.” Nord stepped close to Lov whispering in his ear. “My estimate depended on having a sane leader for these people. You need to get yourself under control, boy!”

  Lov shoved his uncle away. “Whatever. One way or the other, I'm leaving tomorrow. We need to end this, Uncle, we only have a limited time.”

  “Don't do this, Lov!” Nord begged his nephew. “You can't approach Heart with brute force, you've been among the people!”

  “Yes, and I see a people ready to rise up against the Titanbringer.” Lov jumped from the pit, “I want them to! I'm going to be the torch in the haystack, the same as I was here.”

  Nord watched as Lov walked into the city, away from the pit. “Who are you?” He asked, wondering what his nephew had become.

  Chapter Nine

  Tyrosh reached up and touched the necklace she had slipped on to replace the other that her father had removed. She didn't want anyone to know that she was free, especially her son. She could never do anything to disappoint Lov, and giving into her parents like she had would disappoint him. She remembered the disdain he spoke with when talking about Tryton and Draka, hating how they had given in to their powers.

 

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