Rise of the Champion (The Champion Book 1)

by Clara C. Johnson

  “I know that mark,” the elderly elf said then walked up toward Ethrond’s body. “I used to see it when I was young and working for my master before he died. They would sometimes be on the trees in the nearby forest.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “It—it was outside Adhelm by the forest, about a day’s or so ride from here, but that was many years ago. Nothing is there.”

  She and Leo shared glances. “It’s the best chance we’ve got to finding out who’s behind this. Someone is after us. You need to focus on getting your people out of here.” She turned to the elderly elf. “Please, tell me where it is. That may be where the men who did this are hiding. I need to find them.”

  He reached out and grasped her hand. “My darling girl, if these people can take away my son…” She knew what he was trying to say. That it was too dangerous and she could just as easily be possessed by whatever dark magic they had.

  She brought his hand to her lips and placed a kiss on the back of his wrinkled hand. “It’s better for me to do it than your people. I joined this rebellion to free you. Let me avenge your son. Let me stop this before any more lives are lost.”

  He looked back to his son, where the marks around his eyes had begun to fade. Whatever had control over him was now gone, but the burn that covered his chest remained over his heart. His soul was free, but his body was forever scarred.

  “It’s called Redwood. It got its name when several people were found there dead. They thought either they took their own lives or something poisonous was in the forest. Others thought it was cursed. No one goes in there because of it. Too much superstition—but I never thought much of it when I was young.”

  She embraced him. “I will find them and stop them. I promise.”

  Evacuations were quickly underway. Sharlea had sent for the boats to take all of them to Slaterock until Serra could find out what was behind this. She didn’t agree to let Serra go alone and insisted on her bringing two others with her: Leo and Aravar.

  Caden handed her the ointment. “Take this for your neck. I need to stay behind to help with the sick and elderly. I’m the only healer they have.”

  Serra took it graciously. “It’s all right. I’d rather you be with them. They will need you more than me.” She offered him a small smile to comfort him. His lip twitched downward before he embraced her. It was as if he was saying goodbye, knowing that she would never return. His hold was desperate, hoping it would be enough to keep him standing. She wrapped her arms around him.

  When he finally released her, his eyes were watery. “I don’t know what you will face in there. I deal in medicine, not magic.” He took both of her hands. “Please come back safe. I am, as always, terrified that I won’t be there when you need me most.”

  “You were when I needed you to be with Grom. I’ll be back when all of this is finished, and the rebellion is safe. They won’t be able to stay in Slaterock long before they will need to be moved again. I need you to stay here and coordinate a new plan with Sharlea and the others. These people won’t survive an attack.” She looked behind her as she watched another small ship begin boarding.

  Irma was helped on board with several other women. The slaves from Slaterock were still recovering their wounds, and only a handful could hold up in a fight. A few dozen could hold off something small, but if they had some type of cult after them with black magic, none of them would survive.

  “She’s got me, pretty boy. She’ll be fine. Now stop your whining and get to helping those women get on board,” said Finn.

  Caden chuckled softly. “Well, now I have more of a reason to worry. How much have you had to drink, Finn?”

  “Shut up,” he snapped as he took another drag off his flask.

  Serra and Caden shared one last embrace before he went to help the others. Leo, Aravar, and Theren were loading packs to take with them. Horses would draw too much attention, so they were forced to make the journey on foot and out of sight. Three elves, a dwarf and a young human girl would raise too many questions.

  “Ready to go?” said Leo. Serra nodded as she grabbed her pack and threw it over her shoulder. When she looked back once toward Caden, she wondered if this would be the last time she ever saw him.

  Traveling on foot was less than ideal for Serra’s feet. Her boots were getting worn over the past month, its grip depleting. The more she stood on them, the worse the pain got.

  As they all followed Leo with his map, she mostly stayed between him and Finn who took the rear. Aravar remained ahead with Leo, only speaking when he felt he needed to. Hurt and anger filled his face every time she looked at him. Instead of choosing to stay with his people and mourn Ethrond’s loss, he came with them.

  She couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing as his emotions could risk all their lives if he lost control and made rash decisions. Hopefully, Leo could keep him levelheaded enough to keep him straight. They had little idea of what they were heading into, the last thing they needed was more surprises and hot tempers.

  Theren kept close to Serra, offering his hand now and then as they climbed the steep grassy hills. Whenever he looked her way, a small smile would spread on his face, his eyes gleaming with joy that warmed her heart.

  The sky was covered, but the sheer heat of the air made it harder for her to catch her breath. Within the next few hours, they would need to make camp. The promise of a time where she could remove her boots made her push herself harder with each step.

  They stayed off the main roads leading into Adhelm to avoid unwanted questions, remaining on the outskirts of the forests, and followed the stream that cut through its trees. Birds chirped loudly as they passed as if welcoming them into their home.

  Once they reached the top the last hill, Leo paused as he pulled out the map. Theren took her hand, squeezing it lightly before planting a kiss on her forehead. A small blush formed on her cheeks, which caused a rogue smile to form on his lips. He winked at her as if to say just wait until we’re alone, then walked to Leo.

  Finn came from the back and stood next to her as he stared at the elves. “I need to get something off my chest, Serra.”

  “I agree. All that hair would choke a baby if you held it.”

  He gave her a look. “I’m being serious. I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

  In truth, she had felt the same way, but there was little choice in the matter. Someone was after the elves, and she needed to know why.

  “I mean, come on. Dark magic that could completely consume Ethrond? This is some type of cult practicing ancient spells. This isn’t good, Serra. I wasn’t trained to fight that.” When she turned to face him, he held one of the most serious expressions she’d ever seen on his face. It was a rare occasion when Finn was this worried.

  Though, his expression told her something else: fear. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Finn. We stick together.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about,” he said then made his way to the others. Something was scaring Finn, and it wasn’t just the fact they were about to head into dangerous territory. He was scared he would lose Serra as Aravar lost Ethrond.

  A small fire crackled as Theren threw another log into it. Aravar lay on his side, his back toward the rest. Finn placed himself against a tree, drifting off into a deep sleep. Leo pulled out a blanket from his satchel, laying it flat against the ground.

  Leo pointed his finger toward her. “Serra, take first watch. Wake me in a few hours, and I’ll take the next one.”

  She nodded once, giving him no argument. She didn’t feel tired anyway. It made her feel better knowing she was awake to watch for any unwelcomed guests. They didn’t need to be slaughtered in their sleep. It also distracted her from the pain of her feet and neck since the bruises were in full bloom now. Theren had made a comment earlier.

  When Theren was done with the fire, he sat beside her and handed her some dried beef. “You should eat something.”

  “Probably.”


  “Are you going to?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her stomach growled, demanding the food offered to her. She sighed and took a few bites before returning to sharpening her sword. Finn was right about one thing—they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. She needed to prepare for a fight.

  The small whetstone in her hand scraped rough against the steel. She held the blade by the light of the campfire, satisfied with its edge, then continued on the other side.

  “Where did you get that sword?” Theren asked, making conversation.

  She stopped for a moment, remembering Rafe’s face. “It was from a friend.” She relayed the story of when she and the others of Grom’s crew stole from Lord Iren, who failed to pay up, and how they lost Rafe in the process.

  “I’m sorry.” He shifted slightly. “Was that all he wanted? This sword?”

  “Yes, he once told me he believed it was some ancient weapon used to kill dragons.” She chuckled to herself as she recalled that time in the tavern.

  “Well, it does spare a striking resemblance to the one Guvtarr had.”

  “Who’s that?” He gestured for her to hand him her sword. He inspected it, twirling it in his grip.

  “It’s a legend among my people. Guvtarr was a powerful elven warrior, able to defeat all in his path. Until he met the Goddess Anja.”

  She smiled. “Always a woman, isn’t it? When will the stories ever realize it’s not always the woman’s fault?”

  Theren chuckled. “Well, in this story, it was less her fault as it was the jealousy of the other two gods, Xobris and Aljun. You see, the legend says they were planning to make her their bride, but she fell in love with the mortal Guvtarr. She was amazed by his strength for being so powerless.”

  “A goddess who fell in love with a mortal? I feel like I’ve heard this one before.”

  “Perhaps, but this is one of the few remaining stories of my people. With all the attacks and deaths of our elders, we have little left.” Silence hung in the air. Serra wondered if she had accidently insulted him. She hugged her legs, saying nothing for a long moment.

  “Tell me what happened. Did they find a way to be together?”

  He stared at the campfire as if he was seeing the entire story play out within the flames. “Well, like I said, the other two gods were jealous of her affections for Guvtarr. They forced him to do several tests to prove himself worthy of her. Each one he passed flawlessly. When it came down to the final test, Xobris decided to challenge him in a duel. But what Guvtarr didn’t know was that he wasn’t planning to play fair. He turned into a monstrous creature, almost the size of a castle and all Guvtarr had was his sword.”

  “Did he lose?”

  “In many ways, no. While he did defeat him, he just refused to kill him. Guvtarr chose his honor and asked simply for the battle to be declared over. He threw down his sword and turned his back on him. It was then when he heard Anja scream. When he rushed to find her, Aljun had taken control over her. The Anja he knew was lost. She was expressionless and unfeeling towards him.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s terrible.”

  His expression darkened. “Aljun declared that he was being too generous to the mortals, giving them longer lives and good harvest. You see, my people used to have three times your normal lifespan. We outlived humans in every account, but because of Anja’s love for Guvtarr, he took it away from us. Many of us starved and died of sickness.”

  “I see.” All those people… She could barely imagine it.

  “Guvtarr didn’t know what else to do. He demanded to fight him in a duel. Aljun agreed but transformed into an even worse creature than Xobris. He turned into a dragon and almost killed Guvtarr in the process. It was then when he noticed a nearby jewel floating on a pedestal. Anja had told him it was keeping their realm in the paradise, that it was a way to ward off the darkness surrounding them. With nothing left to lose, he took the jewel and shattered it into thousands of pieces. He banished himself and the others into the darkness.”

  A huge sacrifice, damning himself to save his people. “Did your people ever regain what you lost?”

  He shook his head. “No. All he managed to do was stop them from slaughtering my people. Aljun would’ve stopped at nothing. He saved my people the only way he could.” He handed her back the sword.

  Rafe’s tale of a magical weapon he was so sure was in the cave. One that fought and defeated dragons in battle, full of mystical power. The blade she held now. “I suppose there have been many who have heard similar stories.”

  Theren shrugged. “Like I said, that bears a striking resemblance. It’s a good fake.” He smiled then kissed her briefly on the lips. She kissed him back, wishing they were alone. He leaned his forehead onto hers. “I must confess something. I’m… worried about you. About all of this.” His fingers gently touched her bruised neck.

  She pulled back to face him. “Don’t be. Our goal is to find out who these people are. There aren’t enough of us to fight them. We need information before we can do anything.”

  He grasped her hand, kissing each of her fingers. “No, it’s… I’m not sure this rebellion will survive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We may have had a victory at Slaterock, but we have attracted very curious company. They managed to plague Ethrond’s mind completely. Whatever power they have, it was strong enough to take him. He may have been an arse, but he was one of the strongest of us. He was loyal to the rebellion, far more than most of us actually, but they took that away from him.” He stared at their joined hands. “This rebellion is not worth losing what little I have.”

  She understood now. Theren believed this recent attack meant not only the end for the rebellion, but that in the process of its downfall, he would lose her. She touched his warm cheek with her free hand. “We do this together, Theren. Nothing will happen to me. I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

  He dropped his hand from hers and turned away. “Perhaps you should’ve taken Captain Will’s offer. I’d think your chances would be better out at sea right now.”

  She grabbed his arm. “I would never leave you.” Her tone came out harsher than she had intended, but it was enough to get his attention. “We must try, Theren. Your people need us right now. If it turns out to be a lost cause… Well, then we will rethink our options.”

  She didn’t want the rebellion to fail, but there was little she could do if these people were more powerful than they could handle. Sharlea would need to stop the offensive strategy and focus on keeping her people alive. A retreat would be necessary if the worst should come. It was better than being dead.

  “I promise you that no matter what, we will stay together. This rebellion won’t be the end for us.” She tried to sound as hopeful and optimistic as she could for his sake. She knew their chances were slim and even if they managed to return to Sharlea, there was no guarantee she would let them leave.

  “I hope you’re right. I don’t think I could bear life without you.” His smile returned briefly. She kissed him passionately, doing her best to remind him of her love. While she had yet to tell him how she felt, she believed that he knew in some form.

  Leo cleared his throat. “You should get some rest, Theren. Story time is over.”

  Theren nodded then lay on his blanket next to an empty one for Serra. They shared one last look. His eyes flickered against the lighting of the fire, as if showing the passion he wouldn’t say with prying ears. He turned onto his back and closed his eyes.

  Serra watched as her companions slept, returning the whetstone to her sword. She began to sharpen the other side.

  A hand rubbed against Serra’s shoulder, then a voice said, “Time to move.” When she opened her eyes, she saw Leo’s annoyed face before he moved away.

  Theren packed up their food and supplies as Finn put out the remaining embers from the campfire. Aravar was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s Aravar?” she asked Leo.

&nbs
p; “He’s scouting up ahead. We need to move.” He finished packing and went toward what she assumed was Aravar’s direction.

  She rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the light. A bug landed on her hand and she flicked it away impatiently. Theren took care of her blanket after she put on her boots. A knot twisted in her stomach as the feeling of someone nearby increased.

  Scanning the surrounding area, there was no sign of an unwelcomed presence, though a mist threatened to cover the area. It was mild, laying high in the air, but there were no unusual sounds. No mysterious figures in the distance behind the trees. Only the ruffling of the broken twigs and leaves beneath her feet. She dismissed further concern for it. I must be getting paranoid.

  For the next few hours, Serra and the others made substantial progress. They reached a farm that she assumed was the one Ethrond’s father must’ve worked at decades ago. The landscape seemed mostly unmanaged. The fence lining with the land had broken posts, tall weeds coated their bases, and there were a few healthy plants against the cottage itself.

  The cottage itself had chipped white paint, revealing the wood underneath. Parts of the roof shingles had snapped off and fallen in a messy pile underneath. The structure itself seemed solid, despite the obvious repair it needed. If it continued, however, the people who perhaps lived here would be in for a long winter.

  As Leo was about to turn away, Serra held up her hand. In the smallest corner of one of the cottage’s windows, she saw a face. Female, by her guess, as she caught a glimpse of braided brown hair. Probably a child. Once she saw Serra looking at her, she quickly disappeared.

  “I’ll check it out. Stay here until I come back,” she said.

  “We don’t have time to—”

  She raised her hand again, silencing Aravar. “If there are people living here, they can tell us something. Maybe they have seen strange people coming in and out of Redwood. We came here for information, and that’s what I’ll get.”