Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign

CHAPTER 22

Minotaur

Just Outside the Town of Lethwitch

AS THEY SAT AROUND the fire within the Enchanted Forest, George informed Amar of the trouble he was having controlling his new power. However, he tried to steer the conversation to keep the focus on Amar. The manipulator did not want to give anything away that would cause him to lose whatever advantage he might have over the mage.

Kepler understood what George was trying to accomplish. At one point, the cat winked to show his support as he licked himself clean by the fire.

George was relieved when he learned that Amar would be helpful while learning to control his new power. Kepler’s skeleton warriors would no longer be necessary.

Amar had grabbed 10 rats from the cellar of his brother’s store before coming to the forest and threw them into a small cage. One by one, he pulled them out and gave instruction.

It took only four deaths before George had his first success. He was able to limit the transformation to a single leg. The rest of the rat had been spared a solid death, and George watched as the rodent hobbled off into the forest.

Kepler lifted his head from between his legs and stopped licking himself long enough to comment. “It appears you’re getting the hang of it. You just might be able to keep from killing us now.”

George rolled his eyes and then pulled another rat out of the cage. During this series of moments, nothing happened. He smiled as he tossed the rat into the air and watched Kepler snatch it up in his mouth. A crunching sound could be heard as the rat’s bones snapped beneath the demon’s heavy chomp.

Amar had to dodge as a squirt of blood shot past his face. The mage frowned. “This is a new robe, George. I don’t want it soiled. I have no desire to smell as foul as my brother.”

Kepler stood, walked over to Amar and sniffed. “You’re human ... you will always smell foul.”

George snickered. “Knock it off, Kep. We’re here to learn, remember?”

Kepler growled and lowered to the ground as George reached into the cage and pulled out another rat by its tail. He lifted it into the air without changing any part of it.

“That’s good,” Amar praised. “But can you change its heart without turning the rest of it?”

“I can try,” George responded with a questioning look. “But how will I know if it worked?”

“Because it’ll fall over dead, simpleton,” Kepler sneered. “It is, after all, the heart you’re turning to stone. In case you don’t know, it’s a major organ.” The demon shook his head. “How could you possibly dominate territories when you ask such inane questions? Perhaps I should assign you a title. How shall I say it? George, The Ludicrous.”

Irritated by the cat’s remark, George smirked, shook his head in disgust and then redirected his attention to the rat.

The critter’s eyes widened, a look of pain appeared on its face and then its body started to convulse.

Moments later, George tossed the dead rodent onto the ground and stared directly into Kepler’s eyes.

Kepler gave a half-hearted grin and once again licked himself, mumbling between licks. “Give humans a taste of power, and they feel invincible. Remember ... we’re allies, George. Your power does you no good if I swipe your head from your shoulders.”

George searched for a cutting response. “Well, aren’t you a brave, little kitty?”

Kepler lifted his head from between his legs. His eyes flashed a deep, burgundy-red before he responded, “It would be prudent to change the subject.”

Satisfied with Kepler’s irritation, George watched Amar cut the rat open to witness his handiwork. Sure enough, the heart was the only thing that had turned to stone.

Everyone around the fire—including the invisible god—praised George’s success, though Kepler’s cheer was forced.

Reaching into the cage again, George threw another rat to Amar for inspection. During this moment, he changed only the lungs as he had intended.

Again, everyone praised his work. By the moment George arrived at the tenth rat, his skill level was strong enough to change a specific claw. He lowered the rat to the ground and watched it scurry into the woods.

George turned to the group. “I think I’ve got the hang of it.”

After a bit, George strolled over and sat next to Kepler. He waited until the demon was caught up in conversation with Amar before he reached out and touched Kepler on his leg.

The giant cat sprang over the top of the fire and landed on the far side of the clearing. He snarled, “That’s not funny, George!”

The jokester rolled back onto the ground. “Oh, my hell, Kepler! You should’ve seen your face. Amar, did you see his face? He freaked out and crapped himself.”

Amar looked puzzled. “I don’t know what ‘freaked out’ or what ‘crapped’ means, but it certainly was funny.”

George rolled his eyes. “I hate this world.”

It took a while before Kepler was able to calm down to laugh at his own expense.

Once the atmosphere settled, George poked the fire with a stick. “Kepler, if you wouldn’t mind, would you go back to the cave and fetch Maldwin? Your brothers also need to know your warriors aren’t necessary. While you’re gone, Amar and I will go into Lethwitch and prepare to take a journey to Siren’s Song. We’ll meet up in Angels Village in 20 Peaks. After we reunite, we’ll head west to the Latsky Divide and follow the river north to Siren’s Song. I—”

Kepler interrupted, “Why are we going to the wisp’s home?”

“For more power, of course.”

This seemed to satisfy the demon. The journey to fetch Maldwin would give him a break from the humans. Without saying another word, the jaguar turned and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

Amar tapped the butt end of his staff on the ground. A light appeared from the cube-shaped gem at its top. The mage doused the campfire with his power and then walked with George toward Lethwitch.

On the way, the mage informed George that his family had once served in the King of Brandor’s court. Because of this, they would be able to fly aboard the hippogriffs to Angels Village. When Amar realized George had no knowledge about what the flying creatures were, he explained.





Lasidious decided he had seen enough. His pet creation was on his intended path.





The journey to Angels Village would only take 2 Peaks by air. George would be able to stay in Lethwitch much longer than expected, and this would also allow him to watch Sam’s last fight. He would get a room at the inn where Athena worked and make sure he was there when she showed up.

When they arrived at the inn, George and Amar shook hands and parted ways after agreeing to meet at Early Bailem in 17 Peaks.

The lady behind the counter smiled as George entered. “Back already, I see. I don’t believe we’ve met properly. I’m Susanne, Athena’s favorite and only sister. I had the flowers taken to my mother’s home. I’m sure Athena loved them. She’s just south of here, visiting our mother’s farm. My sister has never spoken of anyone the way she speaks of you. I hope you’re worth it.” A half-serious-half-questioning grin appeared on her face.

George smiled. “I wouldn’t count on it. I’m a pain in the backside, and I wouldn’t pay one Helmep for me.”

Susanne smiled. “What’re you going to do to keep yourself busy until she arrives?”

“I was thinking about going to the fights. Do you know when they start?”

Susanne turned and grabbed the local event calendar, a publication that was scribed once every 5 Peaks. “It looks as if they start at the Peak of Bailem, tomorrow. Is there a particular fighter you’re interested in?”

“I have an old friend fighting and I want to watch. This will be his third fight. He won his first two.”

“Could you tell him Athena has a sister? I have room for a strong man in my life.”

“I will, but I’m not sure how his girlfriend would handle that. She’s training to be a sorceress.”

“ Well then I want no part of him. I would hate to be turned into a vestle chick.”

Unsure of what a vestle chick was, George responded as if he understood. “You’re right, that would be terrible. Thank you for your kindness, Susanne. Will you tell Athena my room number when she arrives?” He reached out and placed his hand on top of Susanne’s. “I look forward to getting to know you better. Hopefully I’ll meet the rest of your family someday.”

As George headed up to his room, he grinned. I definitely have it under control. Thank goodness she didn’t change. That would’ve put a damper on my relationship with Athena.

The Next Peak

Lethwitch Arena

George was amazed by the brutality of the fights. Many men had to be carried off on stretchers, followed by a trail of healers. I hope Sam is good, he thought as he looked down to study the archaic fight program. Your opponent’s bio reads like a mysterious nightmare. There’s nothing here.



The champion of Lethwitch was undefeated, with 11 wins—some that ended in death. Other than his number of wins and deaths, the schedule said nothing else about Sam’s opponent. Unlike the other fighters, his profile only had a name. It read: The beast from the west, Terrogon.

The fight was to be with a sword and shield, no body armor—to the death—unless the roll said otherwise.

George got the attention of a man sitting to his left. “What does it mean when it says, ‘unless the roll says otherwise?’”

The man’s breath smelled of ale, and the woman to his right grumbled at George’s ignorance. The man responded with a slur. “A favorable roll can give the champion a choice to change the style of battle. The champion of every arena is allowed this roll. I feel sorry for the man who faces the beast.”

George looked across the sandy surface of the arena. I wonder what’s going through Sam’s mind. He had tried to get below the arena to talk to him, but he had been turned away. If only I could’ve found a way inside. Damn those guards.





Shalee stood over Sam, rubbing his shoulders. After a moment, she moved away and picked up her staff. She looked at BJ and Helga and then asked the trainers to leave them alone. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she turned to Sam. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be. You know it scares me when you use Precious on me. Sure, you mended my pants, but are you sure you can make this work? I don’t want to end up like magical hamburger.”

Shalee laughed. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t want my baby to end up as hamburger either.”

“Can we get this over with? I trust you know what you’re doing. Hurry up. They’ll be back in a moment.”

The sorceress gave Sam a quick kiss. “Just in case,” she giggled, lifting her staff. “Make me proud, Sammy-kins. Precious, tuika helmau!” Her voice was strong and forceful.

Sam could feel a difference in his skin. Even though his appearance had not changed, he knew the command worked. He grabbed Kael and used the blade to test the effect. The razor-sharp edge of the god-sword passed across his skin, but left no mark. “Not even Kael is cutting me!” he exclaimed.

Kael had a few things to say. The weapon pulled away and rose from Sam’s hand. The metal of the blade pulsated as the weapon spoke. “The use of Shalee’s magic doesn’t mean your opponent’s blade won’t kill you. It only means your skin has toughened and smaller wounds will not open as easily. Strikes made by blunt force should feel less painful. If your opponent stabs you or inflicts a deep slice, you’ll perish. Do not make the mistake of thinking you’re impenetrable.”

“Great. Thanks a lot, Kael. Leave it up to you to bring a guy down,” Sam joked.

The sword had come to understand the fighter’s humor. “You need to prepare your mind, Sam.” The blade floated over to Shalee. “Please, excuse us. Matters of importance must be discussed before he enters the arena.”

Shalee did as the sword requested.

After she left, the blade lowered to the bench beside the fighter. “Sam, you must fight with me today.”

Sam could not believe his ears. Until now, Kael had said he could not wield him in any form of combat other than training. “Are you sure? You’re not worried I’ll embarrass you?”

“I have something to tell you before you can take me into the arena. I need to disclose what the markings on my hilt mean.”

“I’m all ears.”

“The message reads:

Bound by honor and righteousness,

a true warrior who has lost everything

will command this Sword of Truth and Might.

His wisdom and valor

will be his true power to lead the masses.

The power of the Elven word

will strike down his enemies before him.”

“Kael, I’m grateful you told me their meaning, but I don’t know the Elven language.”



“Val arna,” Kael responded. “It means Storm of Power. All you must do is remember those two words. When you engage your enemy, speak them both. If you need help, the power in the words will allow me to guide your movements. But you must be careful when uttering them. You don’t want the people sitting inside the arena knowing you wield a sword of my caliber. Place my markings near your mouth, and then speak the words aloud. I must feel their power. Once I do, I can assist when needed. Today, your enemy will suffer a rapid death.”

Upon hearing the word ‘death,’ Sam dropped his head. “Okay, okay. Do I really need to kill my opponent? I don’t want to kill anyone else. I’ve done enough killing already.”

In a soft voice, the sword responded, the pulsating of the blade humming as it did. “Sam, this fight is between two beings who wield sharp weapons. Do you truly think there’s any other way? This fight will be to the death. This was made clear on the event schedule.”

“You know I don’t read the schedule. It gives me anxiety. I...” Sam hesitated. This was the first series of moments in which he realized he was expected to go into the arena to take a life. His first two fights had ended in death only because his foes were trying to do more than subdue him. In this fight, he was going to kill or be killed. He would have to release his rage from the beginning.

The bell of the arena sounded, jarring Sam from his thoughts. He only had a couple of moments to find his position. He headed out with Kael in hand.

The crowd erupted as Sam entered. From the stands, George marveled at how well-known Sam had already become in such a short span of Peaks. They chanted his name as if he was some sort of hero. Not too shabby, Sambo. Sylvester would be proud.

The fighter moved into position and held his hands high to absorb the energy of the screaming mob. When Sam saw his enemy walk through the arena doors, he was shocked to see the beast. It had a bull’s head, a massive, human torso, and powerful, cow-like legs that ended with sharp hooves. He knew the beast from books he had read as a kid. It was called a Minotaur.

Sam stared at the horns on either side of the beast-man’s head as it bellowed like an angered bull. The creature’s muscles tightened as it threw its arms outward, level with the floor of the arena.

From the intense feeling of the crowd and his opponent’s dark stare, Sam knew he would die if he was not ferocious. He called upon his inner demon, now screaming to be freed. And before he could even open its cage, the demon broke free of its prison and rushed to the forefront of his mind. His demeanor changed as the hate poured out of him, and his heart turned to ice as he walked in to engage his enemy.

The arena headmaster lifted his hands into the air and shouted, motioning for Sam to stop. “As champion, Terrogon is allowed to roll the dice!”

The crowd chanted for the bowl. The Minotaur bellowed in Sam’s direction and snorted as he moved to stand over a podium. A circular dais had been placed on the arena floor below the headmaster’s box. The beast reached inside the large, wooden bowl and grabbed seven dice made from bones of past champions. After shaking them in his massive hand, the dice rattled around the bowl.

Four of the seven dice was all it took to indicate that Terrogon had his choice of battle. The Minotaur lifted both his shield and blade into the air. Once sure the headmaster understood his intent, he tossed them to the ground to signify combat without weaponry. It was now illegal under the laws of Southern Grayham to use an object to attain victory.

Lifting Kael in front of his mouth, Sam whispered, “I’m screwed.”

Sam was not surprised when Kael did not respond. The pulsating of the blade would have enlightened the crowd as to the power the weapon possessed. Sam held his head high as he walked to the area of the arena where Shalee, Helga, and BJ sat. He tossed Kael up to BJ and then discarded his shield, tossing it to the sand.

Shalee called to him, “Sam, you cannot fight this thing! You need to concede! Dying won’t accomplish anything!”

BJ would have spoken, but Sam motioned for his trainer to hold his tongue. After a moment of deep thought while staring at the stone wall surrounding the yellow sand of the arena, Sam found Shalee’s eyes. “We have nothing to go home to. This world is all we’ve got. If I don’t fight for these people, who will? You know the task we’re facing. To quit because of fear only prolongs the death we’ll suffer. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t fight for the survival of these people. I have to be the best I can be. Would you have me do less?”

George studied Shalee’s face from the other side of the arena. Though he could not hear the conversation, he could see the look of anxiety on her face. He was surprised by his level of concern. Oddly, he wanted to help, but he had no idea what he could do. He lifted his hands in front of his face and crossed his fingers. “Fight like a mad man, Sam. Kick this thing’s ass,” he whispered.

Sam nodded at BJ, then at Helga. After one last reassuring look to give Shalee a sense of confidence, he turned to face his opponent. He pushed his neck side to side, cracking the bones and then began his approach.

Terrogon gnashed his teeth and flexed his muscles to intimidate, but Sam was no longer there. His inner demon, centuries upon centuries older than Sam, now ruled the fighter’s body. The order was given and Sam charged.

The Minotaur met Sam’s advance with a rush of his own. The two collided. The force nearly knocked both combatants unconscious. The beast-man was the first to recover. He lifted Sam above his head, threw him across the arena and watched as the human landed with a thud. Terrogon turned to the crowd and lifted his arms skyward to bask in the glory of the moment.

Sam struggled to push himself up. He appreciated Shalee’s magic. Without it, he would have been knocked out. Trying to match the beast’s power, despite his godly gift of strength, was a flawed plan. Compared to Terrogon, he was a featherweight fighting a heavyweight.

Sam shook out the cobwebs as the bull-man turned from the crowd. Again, the beast charged. Sam crouched and waited until the last possible moment. Just before Terrogon made contact, Sam rolled backward, secured a horn in each hand and used his legs to catapult the Minotaur. The bull-man collided with a single pillar that sat at the center of the arena and cracked its foundation.

Sam jumped to his feet and followed. As the beast’s massive muzzle lifted from the sand, Sam grabbed the hoop that dangled from its nostrils and ripped.

The bull-man’s flesh clung to the pin that secured the hoop as it tore free. The Minotaur reacted to the pain and kicked. Its right hoof collided against Sam’s ribs and, despite Shalee’s magic, a gash opened. Though no bones were broken, the collision was so severe that the hoop, and the flesh attached to it, fell to the arena floor and separated from one another as Sam flew backward and landed in a fetal position.

The Minotaur rose and bellowed as he reclaimed his bloody flesh and then ate it to demonstrate his superiority.

The crowd groaned its disgust.

A moment later, Terrogon retrieved his nose ring off the sand. With no place else to put it, he yanked the clasp off the pin and then pierced his ear lobe by shoving it through.

Again, the majority of the crowd moaned, but there was a number who cheered.

Angered by the fact that he had been wounded, Terrogon placed his massive hands against the pillar after he shoved the chains aside that dangled from it and pushed. At more than 15 paces tall and a pace wide, the pillar toppled in Sam’s direction.

Sam had barely recovered enough to lunge out from under the object’s path. The pillar missed crushing him by a narrow margin as he rolled to his feet. The arena floor gave way. The weight of the stone was too much to bear. Each section of the pillar fell into the darkness lit by torchlight and killed four men who were waiting below for their moment to fight.

The crowd’s energy amplified the mood as the hole opened. George sat in his seat, stunned. He could not believe how sadistic these people were. Their thirst for blood was insatiable. He thought to himself, Damn … at least when I killed the owners of The Old Mercantile as fast as I could. How can these people be so cruel? Getting crushed is serious.

As soon as George finished his thought, he lifted his voice and shouted, “Kick his ass, Sam!”

The woman sitting to George’s right turned and grumbled. She was heavyset, probably around her 50th season and wore a billowing, yellow dress. The dress had no sleeves, and the hair under her arms stuck out. The woman had a grouchy, grandmother’s voice as she spoke through stained teeth. “You aren’t from around here, are you, boy? You should watch your mouth. Those who sit around me root for the champion. You understand me?”

Out of the corner of his eye, George watched as the Minotaur threw Sam across the arena again. As Sam landed, everyone surrounding the old lady stood, threw their arms up and cheered, but not the woman. She just sat there staring at George as if he had some sort of disease.

George put on a smile. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. Who am I to be sitting here insulting you like this? I’ll cheer as expected.”

The woman turned forward and growled, “That’s more like it, boy.”

George listened to the crowd moan as Sam kicked the Minotaur in his loincloth-covered nuts. As Terrogon cried out, George took the opportunity to remove the glove on his right hand. He then touched the old woman on her left arm.

Every bone, muscle, and organ from the top of her neck down turned to stone, but her skin remained unchanged. Despite most of her bodily functions being shut down in an instantaneous moment, George knew her mind was not dead yet. He watched her eyeballs roll in his direction. He stood, smiled, nodded, and then said, “It was nice to have met you. Please, don’t get up, I’ll find my own way out.” As he moved past, the woman’s eyes glossed over.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the arena, Helga had to take Precious from Shalee. Her hot-tempered student was finding it hard to watch. She desperately wanted to help, but it was against the law. The young sorceress-in-training had threatened to kill the Minotaur with her magic twice already, and Helga had stopped her on both occasions.

Since she could not use her power, Shalee resorted to the next best thing and started screaming. “Sam Goodrich, you grab him by his junk, drag his sorry butt around this arena, and then use that god given strength of yours to shove your foot right up his backside!”

BJ and Helga were amazed that someone so beautiful could sound so foul.

Shalee looked at Helga. “Can you believe the nerve of that thing? I ought ta—”

Helga put a finger against Shalee’s lips. “You’ll do nothing, Child.” The older sorceress took Shalee by the arm and sat her down. “I suggest we pray. Sam needs all the help he can get.”

Shalee rolled her eyes. “You do that. I’d rather watch the fight. Who in their right mind prays at a fight?” Shalee stood, looked across the arena and shouted, “Kick his trash, Sam!”

Sam fought to pick himself up after being thrown into the wall below the headmaster’s box. He tensed as Terrogon charged again. With its head lowered, the beast rammed Sam into the wall. Blood rolled down Sam’s chin, his internal organs taking much of the force.

The beast backed up, saw that Sam was unable to move, and scuffed his right hoof through the sand.





From his home deep beneath the Peaks of Angels on Ancients Sovereign, Lasidious was watching the fight as the images of Sam and the Minotaur appeared in the green flames that burned in his fireplace. He could see Sam’s pain and understood the situation was critical.

The Mischievous One moved to the stone table at the center of the room, grabbed the remaining pieces of the Crystal Moon and then returned to the fire. “Use this to your advantage, Sam. The moment hasn’t come for you to perish again, my brother.” Lasidious shook the pieces of the Crystal Moon.





Once again, the beast-man slammed into Sam, pinning him against the wall. Blood was dripping from Sam’s mouth as the ground beneath the arena began to shake.

The quaking was severe. The seismic activity was enough to capture the beast-man’s attention. The Minotaur turned his back to Sam. Confusion spread across Terrogon’s face as he watched the sand sift into the hole the pillar had created at the center of the arena.

Seizing the opportunity and understanding that this was his only chance for survival, Sam reached deep within and reacted. He lunged forward, grabbed the end of the Minotaur’s left horn with his left hand and used what was remaining of his god-given strength to break the horn, snapping it at its base with his right fist. The detached horn was now a weapon. Before the Minotaur could react, Sam spun around and plunged the horn deep into Terrogon’s back, piercing the Minotaur’s heart.

The crowd screamed as the bull-man fell to his knees, but Sam was not finished. He pulled the horn free with his right hand, reached over the top of the Minotaur’s shoulder with his left, and grabbed the beast’s chin. Pulling his enemy backward, Sam used the horn and drove it into Terrogon’s massive chest again and again.

After a lengthy series of moments, Sam let the Minotaur fall to the sand. He spit a mouthful of blood onto the end of Terrogon’s shredded muzzle and then collapsed.

The arena was in a frenzy. The box holding the Minotaur King and his guards was the loudest of them all. Their cries called for justice. They were already claiming Southern Grayham’s laws of combat had been broken, and they were demanding a meeting with the headmaster of the arena to determine Sam’s punishment.

It did not take long for the healers to surround Sam’s motionless figure. There was not a moment to spare, yet putting Sam on the hide of their stretcher was impossible. It was easy to tell that his condition was critical and that his internal wounds were responsible for his faint breathing. The eldest of the three healers, named Jaress, was wearing an earth-colored robe. He reached into a large, leather case and removed a pouch that was filled with a reddish-yellow liquid. Pulling the cork from its mouth, Jaress knelt next to Sam, then lifted the fighter’s head onto his right knee. He forced Sam’s mouth open, poured the liquid to the back of the fighter’s throat and then pushed Sam’s jaw closed.

BJ jumped from his seat and landed on the floor of the arena before rushing to Sam’s side. As he passed the bowl beneath the headmaster’s box, he knocked it from its pedestal. The trainer shook his head in disgust as one of the dice flew out of the bowl and landed next to the healer’s knee.

Jaress placed Sam’s head onto the sand. He grabbed the dice and tossed it back in the direction of the bowl. After pushing his graying braid over his shoulder, Jaress looked up at BJ through weathered eyes. His voice was strong. “His condition is severe, brother, but I’ve given him the essence of the griffin. It is too bad our reunion is overshadowed by these grave circumstances.”

BJ’s eyes were filled with concern as he held his brother’s gaze. “Jaress, how did you acquire the griffin’s essence? I know of no healer on Grayham with access to this treasure.”

Shalee and Helga arrived to stand beside BJ as Jaress responded. “You can thank Soresym for saving your friend’s life. His Majesty sent word for me to come to the landing platform the night of your arrival. The Griffin Lord gave me his essence and instructed me to use it if ever your friend was to fall in battle. I know of no other man fortunate enough to have this bond.”

Shalee was a mess, and her eyes were filled with tears. Helga was holding her hand as the younger sorceress spoke. “Is he gonna die?”

Jaress found Shalee’s eyes. “A griffin’s essence is powerful. I’ll watch your friend throughout the night. We should know by morning.”

“His name is Sam,” Shalee said in a soft tone. “He’s got a name. Please use it.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Shalee knelt and lifted Sam’s head onto her lap. “When can he be moved? We can’t leave him lying here all night.”

Before an answer could be given, the loud voice of the arena headmaster filled the air. “Barthom Jonas, leave your fighter with your brother! There are matters that need to be discussed!”

“Now what?” Helga questioned. “You’re needed here. What could they possibly say that’s so important?” She turned to look at Shalee, “I’m sure everything will be alright, Child.” She redirected her gaze and focused on Sam’s trainer as she spoke about him. “BJ knows the politics of the arenas. Sam is in capable hands.”

BJ nodded and used Helga’s words as a source of strength to remove his concern from his face. He stood and put his hand on Helga’s shoulder. “I suspect this has something to do with the Minotaur King’s protests.” The expression on BJ’s face turned angry as he continued to speak. “Sam’s victory should not be tarnished, but he may have broken the law, and this may not be news we care to hear. I’ll return when I know more.” BJ rushed off.

Seeing the griffin’s essence was beginning to work, the healers accompanying Jaress rolled Sam onto the stretcher and carried the fighter off. Extending his hands, Jaress led the women into the healer’s vestry below the arena.

Athena’s Work

Later that Evening in Lethwitch

It was just after Late Bailem when Athena started her shift at her mother’s inn. She placed the flowers from George on the end of the bar and smiled. It was just a matter of moments before she would see George again and get the kiss she so badly wanted.



Athena moved about the inn, singing as she did odd jobs. She was dusting the bar when George finally arrived.

Sashaying across the room, she jumped into George’s arms. “Hello, honey,” she glowed. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’d love to finish the conversation we started.”

George pulled Athena close and gave her a warm kiss. “I’ve missed that smile of yours. I’m going to be in town for a while. I was hoping we could get to know one another. Maybe one of these evenings we could have dinner.”

Athena kissed the end of his nose, winked and then excused herself. She ran into the back room and rummaged through the kitchen. After a while, she returned with a basketful of food. “I’m free for the evening. My mother will do fine without me. We have extra help during the fights. There are torches out back. We’ll need to take a few with us.”

Leaving the inn, George admired the purple hues of Luvelles and the orange hues of Harvestom as both worlds approached opposite horizons. He liked the collection of moments called evening. Although smaller than when he first saw them, he could almost feel the vibrant colors of the setting worlds as the sun closed in on the end of the Peak.

He had learned while traveling with Kepler that both worlds would continue to move farther away from Grayham’s orbit. Eventually, they would become too distant to see. The demon cat said the red world of Dragonia would be the next sphere to become visible, followed by the dark world of Trollcom.

George felt romantic as he held Athena’s hand and walked south out of town. Soon, they came to a natural spring that bubbled to the surface. It was tucked behind a wall of foliage, and the area it covered was some 60 paces across. The spring was encircled by this wall, and there was a narrow path that led through the foliage to a hidden gazebo that was made of hardened clay. The gazebo was large and sat at the center of the pool that was created by the spring. It was covered with an array of blooming flowers. A quaint bridge made of treated wood led to the structure. The natural enchantment of this spot was intoxicating as dusk was approaching.

George reached for a torch.

“Not yet, honey,” Athena whispered as she placed a single finger across his lips. She led him across the bridge to the gazebo and continued to whisper. “Just watch. The torches are for later. We don’t need them now. Shhh.”

As the pitch-black of night fell across the land, George could not see a thing. He reached over, found Athena’s ear and leaned in. “What are we waiting for?”

Athena covered his mouth. “Shhh.”

Eventually, the flowers growing on the gazebo and the trees surrounding the pool began to illuminate. The surface of the pool mirrored the warm glow as the flowers produced a light that exuded their natural color.

Staring at the reflections in the water, George felt as if he was standing in the middle of a galaxy, floating amongst stars of many colors.

The petals of the flowers began to wave back and forth in a soothing, massaging manner. Small puffs of pollen were released. A plethora of fragrances filled the air as each radiating puff drifted, some of them against the breeze. One by one, the puffs worked their way to their destinations. It was as if the flowers were in the middle of some sort of mating ritual.

George watched as a blue puff found an opposing yellow flower. The flower opened, allowed the puff inside, then closed its petals. The color of the puff merged with the color of the flower, and soon the flower reopened and radiated a vibrant green.

With this new color reflecting off the pool, a melody filled the night like the flowers had voices of their own. As their song progressed, George opened his mouth. “I can’t believe this,” he blurted. As soon as he spoke, everything went black.

Athena punched George on the arm. “I told you to shush! Now we have to use a torch. You ruined the mood.”

“Aahhhh, man, I’m sorry. That was freaking cool. We’ve got to do this again sometime.”

An awkward silence followed. Athena was not sure how to respond. She was confused by how George phrased his words.

Seeing her confusion, George changed the subject. “I’ll get us some light.” George fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his lighter. As soon as the flame appeared, Athena’s eyes widened. George smiled, lit a torch and then placed it into one of the brackets that was molded into the side of the gazebo. He waited for the questions he knew were coming.

Their conversation would be without pause as he explained how the lighter worked. Athena was intrigued by the many, subtle differences in their speech. Their conversation bounced from one subject to another as they held each other while they cuddled at the center of the gazebo.

Before the second torch extinguished, Athena led George to a quaint cottage. Twice the size of George’s old apartment on Earth, it was lit with many oil-filled sconces. He held their last torch high and examined the stone masonry. Meticulous work and great care had been put into every detail.

Athena walked to the door and opened it. “Mother!” she shouted, “I brought home that adorable man I was telling you about! Can he stay in the spare room?”

George was taken aback by Athena’s forwardness, but after a moment of thinking it through, he stepped inside and shouted, “Mom, we’re home!”

After talking with Athena throughout the night, they decided to get some sleep. George leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. One kiss led to another and before the two of them knew it, they were tickling each other on Athena’s bed.

For the first series of moments in George’s pathetic life, other than the day of his daughter’s birth, he felt truly happy. He knew his goose was cooked—this woman had stolen his heart. All he had to do was figure out a way to ensure she ended up in his life. He knew this would be a challenge, a challenge he looked forward to facing. He pulled her close and spooned her as they drifted off to sleep. He would make no further advances.

Lethwitch Arena

The Next Morning

When the sun rose, Shalee and Helga were still sitting next to Sam who remained unconscious in the healer’s vestry beneath the arena.



Jaress returned, carrying breakfast—corgan milk and muffins. “Any movement while I was out?”

“I’m afraid not,” Helga replied.

The heavy, wooden door to the vestry opened. BJ walked in, followed by the arena headmaster, Lorund. Upon seeing them enter, Shalee stood from her seat, set her muffin on the table next to Sam and braced herself for bad news. The grim looks on the faces of both men caused her to retrieve Precious from the corner of the room.

Lorund, a strong, gray haired man with brown eyes, was the first to speak. He was still dressed in his black, leather armor that bore the symbol of the Kingdom of Brandor. “The Minotaur King has requested that Sam’s life be surrendered in exchange for the death of his champion.”

Shalee gasped, “Why? Sam beat him fair and square. I won’t let them have him. He’s practically dead already.”

“Child, it’s not that simple,” Helga responded. “There are laws the combatants must live by. Hear the man out.”

“Laws or no laws, I’m not going to let them have him. I’m not giving Sam to some bull-faced losers.” Shalee tapped the butt end of Precious on the floor. “I’ll give ‘em what for. You tell them to come down here, and I’ll show them another way to die. I dare them to try to take Sam off this table.”

BJ laughed. “I admire your spirit, Shalee, but you won’t need to use magic on anyone. After a long debate, we have determined that Sam’s actions were acceptable. The fight was to be without weapons. Terrogon was the first to use a weapon during the battle. When he tried to use the pillar to crush Sam, he broke the law by which he chose to fight. Sam’s use of Terrogon’s horn as an instrument of death was justified. Sam no longer had to abide by the rules set by the roll of the dice.”

“That’s great!” Shalee exclaimed. “Then Sam’s free to go when he wakes up.”

Lorund shook his head in disagreement. “I would not consider this a joyous outcome. The Minotaur do not agree with my ruling, and they will remember Terrogon’s passing. I know their race. If I was you, I would see to it that Sam never encounters another one. I would not be surprised if the Minotaur King puts a bounty on Sam’s head.”

“What kind of crap is that?” Shalee snapped. “That’s not sportsmanlike at all.” The younger sorceress crossed her arms. “I hate sore losers. They wouldn’t make good Texans. We would’ve been downright embarrassed to know folks like that.”

Lorund looked at BJ, then at Helga and then at Jaress. “What is she talking about? Is she foreign?” He turned to look at Shalee. “Is Texas on one of the other worlds? I have read nothing of it in all my studies, and I’ve never heard anyone speak as you.”

Helga cut in, “You know how young ones can be. I’ll handle her. You go about your business. I’m sure your family is expecting you. Thank you for clearing matters up.”

Lorund nodded. “There are other issues that I must attend to. I have been informed that there is a woman sitting in the stands who has passed. Her weight is abnormal for her size. She will require a significant number of men to carry her to the wagon waiting outside. It’s as if she is made of stone.”

It was not long after Lorund’s departure that Sam stirred.

Jaress quickly moved to keep the fighter still.

Once Sam’s eyes opened, the fighter realized where he was.

Jaress took the moments necessary to explain. After Sam acknowledged he understood, the healer uncorked the essence of the griffin and lifted Sam’s head. “I need you to drink. This is a powerful elixir. Your wounds will heal quickly.”

Sam took three, large swigs. His body tingled. Despite the blood loss, the paleness of his skin faded.

Sam managed a weak voice, “That doesn’t taste like any medicine I’ve ever had. It’s sweet. What was it?”

“The essence of His Majesty, the Griffin Lord, Soresym,” Jaress responded with admiration. “I have never met another man who has ever been given this honor.”

Sam chuckled, but the pain caused him to stop. Once he collected himself, he responded. “I knew we bonded, but I had no idea that Soresym considered me worthy of his essence. Exactly what part of the griffin does his essence come from? Is it a special gland?”

BJ looked across the table at his brother and grinned. “I would love nothing more than to explain. Please, allow me the privilege, Jaress. You owe me this one.”

Jaress shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I thought Mother settled this dispute. Besides, I cannot. I’ve given my word. The Griffin Lord said this question would be asked. I’ve been given special instruction to deliver this answer.” Jaress looked at Sam. “The essence is collected when a griffin allows a healer to harvest his urine.”

Sam grimaced, his face showing his disgust.

BJ and Helga laughed.

Shalee was the first to respond. “That’s downright nasty! Are you standing there telling us that Sam just drank a truckload of piss? What on this world would ever make y’all decide to drink something so foul in the first place? I mean ... who was the first fruit loop to look at a stream of urine coming out of a big, old griffin and think, ‘I wonder if that’ll fix me?’ For heaven’s sake, y’all, you’re drinking piss. I never.”

It took a while, but Sam managed to put a clear thought together. “If drinking Soresym’s essence is what it took to save my life, then I’m grateful. If no man has ever been given this favor ... then why me?”

Jaress could only smile. “Lord Soresym said you would ask that question as well. His response was ... you were given his essence to get even with you for calling him a ‘thing.’ He further said that he hoped you would hate the taste, and he laughed as he launched from the landing platform and flew into the night. I did not expect the delivery of this message to be so enjoyable, but I cannot help myself.”

Sam looked at Shalee. “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.” He smiled. “Griffin’s must be made of raspberries and lemons. His urine tasted like lemonade. If the idea wasn’t so disgusting, I would bottle it and sell it. At least it would be a healthy drink.” He poured a bit more of Soresym’s essence into his mouth and swallowed. “I’m feeling much better, really. How about a kiss?”

Shalee rolled her eyes. “You’re nasty!”





That evening over dinner, BJ and Helga sought each other’s attention. Both trainers were flirting, but they were careful not to allow their students to see their momentary exchanges of quick smiles and playful winks. It was clear to BJ that there was something between them, and he wanted to explore the possibility of Helga’s companionship.

After dinner, BJ excused himself and asked Helga if she would join him for an evening walk. When Shalee offered to tag along, BJ declined, and said it would be nice to converse without students present.

Sam and Shalee thought nothing of it and retired to their room.

The two trainers put some distance between them and the inn before BJ reached down and took Helga’s hand. They walked east out of town.

Helga used her staff to light the way. Though the walk was long, it felt brief when they stopped at the center of a bridge that spanned the Cripple River.

As they stared into each other’s eyes, they knew their attraction for one another was mutual. It was on this beautiful night, beneath a pitch-black, gentle sky and hundreds of glow bugs surrounding them, that Helga commanded her staff to go dark.

The gentle ripple of the river passing beneath the bridge amplified the mood as BJ put his hand under Helga’s chin. Bringing her lips closer, a passionate kiss followed.

Helga giggled as they separated. “Well now … Mr. Barthom Jonas, you’re quite the kisser.” She pressed against him. “Ohhh ... I can feel your excitement.”

BJ stroked her face. “You have no idea.”





2 PEAKS OF BAILEM

HAVE PASSED

KEPLER is with Maldwin at the entrance to the Cave of Sorrow. The jaguar realized he was going to run into a problem on his way to the cave. He commanded one of his giant, feline subjects from the Enchanted Forest to travel with him. As expected, the rat refused to leave. His family would not be protected while he was gone. Without the stone skeleton warriors promised, Kepler knew it was pointless to argue.

To fix the problem, Kepler told the rodent he would have 100 of his finest warriors guard the entrance to the cave and patrol the Pass of Tears. They would not leave, and they would protect the rat’s family.

Maldwin agreed, and Kepler sent word to his brothers by way of his feline subject. Maldwin instructed his family to stay hidden until the skeletons arrived. Then the pair left for Angels Village.





SAM, SHALEE, BJ, and HELGA have arrived in the town of Mountain View. Soresym enjoyed giving them a ride and relished the fact that Sam had drank his essence. A rare bond has formed between griffin and human.

Sam and Shalee were impressed with the scenery of this new town. The view surrounding the landing platform was breathtaking.





YALOOM, God of Greed, has taken over as leader of Lasidious’ old team. They are plotting. Based on what Lasidious said at the last meeting of the gods, they have outlined a new course of action. They will put the Barbarian Kingdom in the strongest position for the war they know is coming. At the conclusion of this meeting, a plot to assassinate the Prince of Brandor, Aaron Brandor, and the army’s General Absolute, Justin Graywind, has been finalized and put in motion.





MOSLEY spent the previous Peak mourning his wife. He hates the idea that she is in the Book of Immortality. The wolf is now with his team. They watched from the god world as the King of Brandor sent his runners throughout the kingdom to call the army’s men into service.

Alistar has revealed the locations of the blessed soils, and Keldwin has ordered the first harvest of the massive, Garanto trees. They will be used to build wagons which will carry the crops to the coast.

Building these oversized wagons is going to be quite the task. The runners have called for a meeting with the nobles of each city, town, and village to explain what must be done. The runners have also informed the nobles that two of the king’s engineers will arrive at each location to help with the proper design and construction of the wagons. The final approved drawings show each wagon will have 9 axles, and 20 horses will be needed to pull them.





GEORGE and ATHENA have spent the last three Peaks on her mother’s farm. They spent the majority of their moments in her mother’s guest house. Their longing for each other has been growing.





CELESTRIA is still a quarter season away from delivering her baby. The elven, witch family is still testing her patience. She wants to destroy them, but continues to remind herself of the goals she has set with her lover. She spends the majority of her moments in her room speaking with the squirrels.





LASIDIOUS is with the Wisp of Song, deep inside the mist of Siren’s Song, below Griffin Falls. The Mischievous One tells Cadromel about the envelope he gave to George. He also says the human will be traveling to visit him. In return for the envelope, the god asked Cadromel to tell George how he can win the crown of the Barbarian King.





SENCHAE BLOODVAIN is still on edge from his run-in with the talking bull. He is sitting in his bedroom chamber holding his unicorn horn. The king has intentionally used his knife to open a gash on his arm. Senchae has skipped his training for the first series of moments in over 16 seasons.

Thank you for reading this edition of the Grayham Inquirer