Published via Ecency

Greetings all. Hope you are enjoy the start of your week. Nothing too much has been happening my side of the world. The survivor book is also done and ready to go to the editor. Looking forward to a slight break from working on depressing pieces. The client does; however, want to continue working with me, which is great. He is also thinking of including bush craft into his next book, something I am well versed in, so I'm looking forward to that.

Anyway, thank you to those on our ever growing reader's list. It is nice to see how many more readers are joining us weekly. If you are interested in following this story or any others that @zakludick and I work on, drop us a line and we will add you to the reading list.

That's enough chit-chat from me. Enjoy Part 11. For those of you joining us for the first time, please find the earlier parts below and start the journey from scratch. I promise you won't regret it.

Mortis looked to the castle where the two scheming men were whispering their plans.

They have no concept of evil.

They then looked at their armored hand. The blood was drying and starting to flake off. The power was fading, but the taste they had had was maddening. Never before had they had that strength, not even when they were…

“Excuse me, Mortis?”

They turned to find the owner of the voice. It was the girl, the princess.

“Ah, Bellatrix.”

Magna shook her head a little, trying to get used to the voice echoing in her skull. “What?”

“You named me Mortis; I name you Bellatrix. She warrior. I see that blade in your boot.” They twisted their whole body to face the girl. “Why are you here? Are you not dining with the queen?”

“Mother wanted some time to discuss something with the castle guard without me. She asked me to return in a few minutes, but…” Magna paused.

“You are not sure of a lot of things.”

“What are you?” she demanded suddenly.

Mortis was taken aback by the question and the ferocity at which it had been asked. They thought the question over for a while before asking, “What do you think I am?”

Now it was Magna’s chance to be put on the backfoot. She didn’t know how to answer the question. The dry wheezing chuckle echoed from the helm, the only sound which seemed to come from it.

“Let’s change the question, shall we?” Mortis stood up straight and asked, “What do I look like to you?”

You’re smart, I can tell. Figure it out. Lift which binds me.

Mortis had realized soon after they had used magic what had happened but couldn’t bring themselves to say it. They needed the young woman to say it.

“I…I…”

Today has clearly been too much for her.

Mortis chuckled once more and said gently, “I am eager to help, I am, but you seem uncertain.”

“Are you talking about the journey?”

“What else would I be talking about?”

“You just seem so otherworldly. I spoke to some of the younger mages, and they say they have no idea what magic you used. Some muttered curses saying you are a blood fiend but…”

“I am no demon. Come, you need to prepare, and the sun will soon rise.”

Mortis gripped her shoulder and steered her to the courtyard where the monstrous beast’s corpse still lay.

Magna had been told to stay away from here, but since the black knight was with her, she felt that it would be alright.

“Take a tooth.”

“What?”

“I assume you know how to use the blade in your boot. Take a tooth.” Mortis ordered again.

The soldiers, who were trying to move the beast, turned and stared at the pair but didn’t interfere as the princess strode forward to look down at the creature. She had never seen a Dreadthing before, at least not outside her books. It was every bit as disgusting and terrifying.

“Go on.” Encouraged the knight.

Magna pulled the blade from her boot and stepped forward to chisel a tooth out.

“What the hell are you doing!” yelled the queen as she made her way across the courtyard.

It took only two steps for the knight to put itself between Magna and Mary.

“Do not interfere.” Said the knight coldly.

Mary tried to say something, but the knight pointed to Magna, “Do you want me to protect a babe or aid a warrior?”

Mary’s angry retort died in her throat.

That’s right. Magna’s a warrior, not a babe.

She took a deep breath before looking at her daughter, “Collect two.”

Magna, now empowered by her mother’s order, used her foot to open the beast’s mouth before she started digging. She must have looked grotesque in the flickering of the flames, but by the time the sun was kissing the horizon, she had pulled two chipped teeth from the beast’s maw. She brought both to her mother, but Mary shook her head, “Those aren’t for me.”

Confused, Magna turned to Mortis, and the knight indicated she should come closer. Once the girl stood before the knight, she opened her hand. Mortis took one tooth and said, “Now you are my battle sister. I will guide you as best I can.”

“Magna, come, we must plan your trip.” Said Mary.

Magna closed her hand around the tooth she held and felt more confused than ever. Slowly she smiled and whispered, “Thank you.”

Mortis watched her run after her mother before returning to the gatehouse. It would be too late to leave on this day, but they would leave soon.

Darian had been fast asleep in his chambers when something woke him. The sun was barely cresting the horizon, it was hours before he had to perform any of his duties. Yet, something had woken him.

It was too late that he realized something had tripped his magical defenses. One minute he was sitting upright in his bed, and the next he was slammed against his wall. With the wind knocked out of him, he was unable to cast any of his prayers when he finally noticed the dark character in his bed-chamber.

“Oh please, don’t get up on my behalf.” A hand was lazily waved in front of his face, “And don’t bother with your paltry spells. Your god holds no power over me, and you know it.”

“Adiran…?” Terror gripped him so hard that he barely had the strength to prevent him from wetting himself.

“You and Christoff don’t know what you are meddling in.” spat Adiran as he continued to wave his hand.

“What…?”

“I don’t have the time to worry about the priesthood and little mages getting in my way.”

The waving became more frequent, and eventually, Darian felt something burn on the inside of his tongue. The pain was sudden, immense, and then it was gone.

“Whatever you and the idiot have managed to uncover cannot be spoken about until I give you permission to say it.”

“I know…”

Darian’s jaws locked over his tongue, and he tried to squeal, but the sound was muffled.

“An effective curse, one which will prevent you from speaking of what you have or will learn about me. As for writing, I have another interesting little curse.” Adiran brought his hands forward and joined the fingertips, “Oh, don’t worry, I already practiced this one on Christoff.”

I did say I would make him eat his words :)

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