Wrath of the Risen God: Arcane Renaissance Book Three

by Tim Paulson

  Aaron realized...The sorcerer hadn't been specific about his epithet. The word mitu meant dead person. That could just as easily be interpreted as addressing him.

  “Yes,” Aaron replied.

  Narael's head turned and his eyebrows knitted together into a frown.

  Buckley's eyes went wide. “No! Ignore him! He's delusional.”

  Narael's eyes darted toward Buckley and then back toward Aaron. “Golem... explain yourself. What is it you wish to tell me?”

  Buckley lunged forward. “No! He's a liar!”

  Narael flicked his left hand like he was brushing some crumbs from the end of a table and Buckley flew into the air, away from the goliath, screaming as he fell.

  “Tell me,” Narael said.

  “One of your pyramid-shaped things returned,” Aaron stated.

  Narael's eyes widened. “What? What happened to it?”

  Aaron nodded in the direction that Buckley had flown. “He had me destroy it. Then we took the pieces to one of his-”

  Narael waved his hand. “I don't care about that. If it's stopped functioning the information will be gone.” The sorcerer's whole demeanor had changed. Anger no longer filled him. There was something else, something far deeper. Aaron could see it in his eyes. The look was unmistakable.

  It was fear.

  “I must go immediately,” Narael muttered. “There is much that must be done.”

  Fires were engulfing buildings around him. Goliaths were fighting. Even his own golden-eyed monsters were losing ground, being pushed together and destroyed, yet the sorcerer's eyes were unfocused, he didn't care about any of that. Something had taken hold of him, something he regarded as of far greater importance.

  “This... this could ruin everything,” the sorcerer said.

  He stepped away and raised his right hand but then his eyes looked back toward Aaron and narrowed.

  “Let it not be said that I do not reward the service of the worthy,” he said as his hands traced symbols in the air. When the spell completed it flashed together a mix of green and golden symbols that generated a small ball of pale green light. The light moved from the sorcerer's hand toward him.

  Aaron wanted to run but he couldn't. He hadn't been told to. So he watched as it entered his chest, doing nothing, fearing everything.

  A burning began in his core and moved outward, gaining in power and strength with every moment. The pain was so great he almost didn't see it when the sorcerer disappeared in a flash of light, leaving him alone atop the golem's head, crumpled in pain behind the sorcerer's golden chair.

  There was a loud clang as something hit the goliath Aaron was on. The world upended and spun.

  Aaron fell, but he didn't care... he couldn't think about anything but the fire inside him. Blinding, screaming pain filled his entire mind and soul, burning away any thoughts. Then his falling ceased and as suddenly as it began the pain began to ebb, slightly at first, then precipitously, until he was able to open his eyes.

  He was being held by two great hands. Goliath hands.

  More important, however, were his own hands... they had skin.

  Tears welled in Aaron's eyes. He was human again!

  * * *

  With the second abrupt disappearance of the sorcerer... the enemy army broke completely. Mia found herself fighting alongside the Pyrolian titans as they swept through devastated lower Magenberg, catching golden-eyed goliaths and eliminating them one by one. Even though the numbers of the enemy were still greater than the remnants of the Ganex and the Pyrolians combined, they moved individually through the streets with no direction or tactics. It seemed that all they cared about was destroying the city itself, making it trivial for Marian to walk up behind them and jam the flaming white blade in their back.

  It wasn't exactly honorable, but Mia didn't care and neither did Marian.

  Hours passed before they'd cleared the city, slaying the last of their enemies. The Republican Army had long since fled to the east, taking fire from the remaining wall guns as they went. Those guns were now silent and the residents of the city were starting to reemerge from their hiding places to survey the considerable damage to their homes.

  It was at the wall where Mia finally dismounted from Marian. She'd seen Greta's goliath run forward before, trying to get to the center of the enemy, where the sorcerer's own goliath had been. Mia had thought that maybe Greta had seen Aaron there and was trying to save him but there had been nothing she could do at the time. Her sword was needed elsewhere.

  However, as she stood on the field, walking toward Greta's goliath, she felt some amount of peace. With the help of the Pyrolians they'd won the day. She didn't know if the sorcerer had been scared off by the titans or simply decided it was time for a nap, and she didn't care. His army had been destroyed. That was what mattered.

  “Wait for me,” she called back to Marian, who nodded in response, still holding the golden blade, now dark.

  In the distance, foot soldiers were pulling a man from a massive puddle of slush and filth. He appeared to have at least one broken leg. Even through the muck, she could see who it was. The goatee and the wide lace collar gave him away.

  “Hello Buckley,” she said, waving as she passed. The man was like a roach, seemingly impossible to kill. But she didn't care to deal with him at the moment. She was too tired. Greta's goliath was up ahead, on one knee, near the dismembered corpse of the sorcerer's own stone warrior. If Aaron was anywhere, he would be there.

  She had her veil sword ready but hoped it would not be necessary.

  As she approached the kneeling goliath a group of cavalry rode up to her with Commander Bartold at its head.

  “Mia Halett!” he called down to her.

  She nodded to him. “Commander.”

  “I've heard what you've done here. Truly remarkable,” he said, looking grave.

  “Half the city is a ruin,” Mia replied. “The Pyrolians saved us. If it wasn't for them...”

  The commander looked off into the distance. “Bah, the Pyrolian queen is the emperor's cousin. I'm surprised she made us wait this long.”

  Having little interest in politics, Mia simply shrugged. “Have you seen your sister?”

  Bartold leaned forward in the saddle. “I was going to ask you the same. I thought you were going to see her.”

  Mia cast her eyes at the destruction around them. The ruined wall, the fires being put out by light goliaths carrying great casks of water, children crying, it was terrible.

  “Circumstances intervened,” she said.

  “And thank God they did,” Bartold replied. “Thank you,” he repeated.

  “You're welcome,” she said. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a brother-in-law to see.”

  “Ah!” Bartold said, raised an arm. “There's someone else who's interested in that.” He yelled over his shoulder to another group of horses in the distance.

  As they rode up, Mia saw who it was immediately.

  “Mia!” Giselle yelled to her, nearly jumping from the horse. Behind her, also riding, though not very well it seemed, was the weaselman. There was something about that long neck perched above the horse that just looked wrong.

  “Come on,” Mia said, starting toward Greta's goliath again. “I believe Aaron may still be here.”

  “Really? What makes you say that?” Giselle asked.

  The weaselman was trying to dismount from his horse but having a very difficult time with it. He cursed loudly several times in a language Mia wasn't familiar with.

  “Because that goliath is still there, it's where the sorcerer was.”

  Giselle's eyes widened. “I heard the sorcerer had been killed. There was a Ganex gunnery officer claiming one of the cannons hit him from behind and-”

  “No,” Mia replied. “That's not true.”

  “Then what did happen?” Giselle asked her as she followed her toward the kneeling goliath.

  “I'm not sure but it wasn't that.”

  “Well fine... Still, y
ou need to explain to me what you said before,” Giselle said.

  “What is that?” Mia asked.

  The weaselman had apparently dismounted successfully for he was now running up to walk next to Giselle.

  “Leave girl alone,” he said. “She was very tired.”

  Giselle narrowed her eyes. “That only makes it more interesting because-” and her jaw dropped.

  Mia raised an eyebrow, looking at the girl. “Because what?”

  The weaselman too had paused, staring.

  Mia turned to look as well. They'd just passed the lowered leg of the goliath. Beside it, in the shadow of the stone figure, could now be seen Aaron and Greta.

  They were together, in a passionate embrace, kissing.

  Epilogue

  Adem rode the horror, holding on with both hands as the creature sped forward, pushing through the brush. Until finally it arrived at the place. Adem could feel it as they'd approached. It felt like Titi. The one who spoke in his dreams.

  It was a low hill, covered with trees except for a perfect circle at its center. The horror took him there, stopping near the very top. The rest of them surrounded him and stood patiently, waiting.

  Adem sat down in the grass, touching it, sliding his fingers between the leaves. Life felt good. It felt whole.

  He looked around. Smelled the air.

  This was the place.

  He waited.

  That's what she'd said to do. Come to the circle of trees. Wait.

  So he did.

  It wasn't long before the sound began. A low hum, like the buzzing of a hundred bees in the meadow.

  Adem listened. It was time. This was it.

  Then, with a soft sound that reminded him of a frog, something appeared in the air and dropped to the ground.

  He sat up, raising his eyebrows, inspecting it.

  The skin was too light. The hair was... also too light, and too long.

  This was the woman.

  She gasped, wiping slime from her face.

  “Asar... Me asru?” she asked, casting her yellow eyes around, looking at the trees, at the grass, at him... and the horrors that stood behind him, tongues lolling from their open mouths.

  Adem didn't know what she said but that didn't matter.

  “Titi has a message for you,” he said.

  The yellow eyes locked on him. Her right hand moved, making the symbols, like Harald had done.

  Sorcery.

  There was a flash of light.

  “Please... repeat... your words,” she said, sitting up.

  “Titi has a message for you,” Adem said.

  The woman frowned. “Who is that?”

  Adem held up his hands, palms up, frowning. “She says you are not welcome with her anymore.”

  “Who says that?” the woman asked.

  The frog noise again. It was like the gulping sounds they made in the summer.

  Another form emerged from nowhere, dropping to the ground beside the woman with a heavy thump. This one Adem recognized immediately. He jumped to his feet, running.

  Before his father could even open his eyes, Adem was on him, holding him tightly.

  “Daddy... Daddy, I'm so happy!” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  His father cried out and wrapped his arms around him.

  “My God! Adem!” he said, holding him. “I... How did we...”

  Adem cried and cried and cried, holding his father, loving him so much. He knew what had to happen. That's why.

  A snarl from behind him.

  “I know!” Adem called back. “Just... a little more.”

  “Let me look at you boy!” his father said, holding him up, his big brown eyes full of tears. “Where is the amulet?” he asked, frowning, looking worried.

  “I don't need it, daddy... Titi fixed me,” Adem said. “I love you, daddy.”

  “I love you too Adem,” his father said, wrapping him in his arms again, holding tightly.

  A second snarl.

  This time his father heard and saw.

  “Adem... watch out,” he said, pushing Adem behind him, holding him back.

  Adem stood up. “I'm sorry daddy,” he said.

  The woman was watching all of this, unmoving. Adem didn't care. Titi didn't care about her. Titi cared about him. She needed him and he said he would help. He didn't want to though, he thought, as his hands touched his father's strong back and shoulders. All he wanted was to be home again. To play with his things while daddy hit the metal in the forge.

  Three of the horrors took several steps forward.

  “Stay back!” his father said, raising a fist.

  The horrors snarled. Steaming drool dripped from their mouths, cutting black holes in the snow.

  He knew what would happen if he didn't go. Titi said.

  “I... I'm sorry daddy,” Adem said, sniffling, patting his father one more time while he leaned in to put his head on his father's back, just so he could feel the warmth on his cheek, one more time.

  “What do you mean little man?” his father asked. “What's wrong?”

  “I have to go,” Adem said and walked out of his father's grasp, toward the horrors. Titi called them her friends. She'd said they were his friends too, as long as he helped her.

  “Adem no!” his father said, standing.

  “Titi says I have to... I love you, daddy,” he said.

  Then the horrors came and Adem climbed on to one and they took him into the woods. His father yelled for him and as his voice receded into the distance, Adem cried.

  Dear reader,

  About this series. Originally I planned five books. Then I wrote three of them and they drained me. In part because I was stupidly ambitious and wrote like a madman: three five hundred page books in six months is a lot, especially when they're your first books. Now I'm planning to take a break for a short while to do a different series of smaller books.

  Will I come back to the Arcane Renaissance? Yes, absolutely. I believe another three books at least is necessary to do it justice. I have a full story arc already planned for those three. You can see it setting up in this book.

  When will I do so? That depends. I'm thinking I'll start again around a year from now, say July 2021. However, if people are asking for it, it could be sooner. So if you want to find out what happens next. Join my email list, reply to the email you get, and ask me when the next book is coming. There's no robot responder, no assistant, no bound familiar, it's just me.

  You can join my mailing list at: paulsonwriter.com

  Thank you for reading!

  -Tim