AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER ONE
THEA
Black blood splattered across the pristine snow, and the Shadow of Death whirled on her feet, carving into the next creature that attacked. In the burnt-gold glow of a freshly broken dawn, darkness leaked from its mouth, as though it was done devouring its host from within and was ready to seek another.
Howlers, they were called. Once men, they had been mutilated by the shadow wraiths, their voices stolen and replaced by blood-curdling howls, their bodies and minds no longer their own. Possessed and incensed as they were, there was no reasoning with them, not as they tried to spread their poison across the midrealms. A gurgling sound escaped the one Thea fought as she thrust her blade into his gut and split him from navel to nose. More black blood flowed.
Thea and her friends were outnumbered a dozen to three.
‘Kipp!’ she shouted in warning before letting her throwing stars fly.
He ducked just in time as blurs of silver soared through the air and pinned his snarling opponent to the nearby village wall.
With a nod of thanks, Kipp rushed to Cal’s side, his sword raised, while Thea swung her own blade, decapitating another howler, his head hitting the ground with a thud, rolling across the snow. On instinct, she reached within for her magic, but it did not answer, not a flicker of the lightning that had once coursed through her veins. She didn’t need it, she told herself, twirling her sword, bracing herself for the next attack.
It was not the first time they had come across these cursed men in their year of travel. Darkness had been bleeding into the midrealms since the battle of Notos, poisoning their world with its curse. With it came monsters of every kind. Not six months past, a wave of howlers had come through the various tears in the Veil, plaguing the lands of the midrealms, terrorising the common folk who had little with which to defend themselves. Thea was more than happy to have an outlet for her rage.
‘There are forces at work we do not understand… Things that threaten the peace the three kingdoms have fought so hard for… It creeps across the lands like a poison… A scourge of sorts, breaking through the Veil.’
It was all because of him.
Wilder Hawthorne.
The fallen Warsword of Thezmarr.
Thea had been hunting him ever since his treachery at Notos, where he had freed the captured half-wraiths and aligned himself with the Daughter of Darkness, who had held Wren hostage in her shadows. Thea had watched Hawthorne spit in the face of everything Thezmarr stood for and flee in a swirling mass of shadow, setting their enemies loose on the midrealms. Because of him, the surge in dark forces breaking through the Veil had increased. Because of him, the wraiths and reapers had humanity at their mercy, their talons digging in deeper by the day. Daylight now only lasted a few hours and spring refused to bloom, even in the warmer parts of the midrealms.
Darkness was a plague on the world.
And it was Hawthorne who had released it from its cage.
‘Bring him Thezmarr’s justice… Do that, Althea Zoltaire, and his swords are yours,’the Guild Master of Thezmarr had told her, and she had taken his order to heart.
Thea hadn’t stopped tracking Hawthorne across the kingdoms. He had fought her at every turn from afar, pulling out all the stops, leading her through swarms of howlers and wraiths. In the quieter moments, she wondered if it was more than him keeping her off his trail – if he was involved in a bigger plan to sow as much chaos and darkness through the lands as possible. He was a fallen Warsword; the depths of their treachery knew no bounds. But Thea slayed every monster he put in her path, and defended the common folk against the evil he spread throughout the midrealms. The calls for help were endless, and she would leave no cry unanswered.
Now, the villagers watched from their windows, their faces horror-stricken as the three Guardians of Thezmarr battled with the cursed men, the snow turning to black sludge beneath their boots, staining the icy hinterlands of Aveum.
Thea rolled, dodging a rusted blade and slicing the tendons behind her opponent’s knees, still moving as he fell, dragging her Naarvian steel dagger across the fragile column of his throat. His blood sprayed, hitting her exposed hands in a warm flood before he dropped to the ground like a stone.
A cheer sounded from one of the windows facing the village entrance and Thea glanced up to see the men and women of the tiny town gripping each other in anticipation, shouts of triumph on their lips.
Thea ignored them and turned to the remaining opponents. Cal and Kipp battled a howler each, driving them back from the village, towards the edge of the frozen lake beyond. The cursed men were no wraiths, nor were they trained warriors, but thedarkness made them strong and persistent, and Thea had seen that darkness spread like wildfire.
For a fleeting moment, she admired the improvement in Kipp’s form. He fought far better than he ever had at Thezmarr, and while he still wasn’t a natural, she liked to think her constant drills had helped.
She brought down three more of the enemy herself, before surveying the tainted snow, a bitter taste filling her mouth as she spotted their leader advancing on her. With a twirl of her blade, she readied herself and countered his attack, deflecting a thrust and pivoting, snow crunching, as she delivered a powerful strike to his side. With a beast-like grunt, her opponent blocked messily, only for her dagger to lodge in the soft flesh beneath his chin, driving up into his head. Shadows ripped from his mouth along with a wet, strangled sound. Thea kicked him away with her boot, extricating her blade with a firm tug.
‘That’s disgusting,’ Kipp offered upon approach, wiping the blood from his own sword with a rag.
‘Not as bad as that giant spider’s web situation we faced a few months back,’ Cal countered, his nose wrinkling as he observed Thea’s handiwork.
‘I’ll say. Still, not exactly how I imagined spending my name day,’ she admitted with a grimace.
Kipp perked up at that. ‘I’m sure the grateful people of this fine village would be more than happy to share their ale with their saviour,’ he said hopefully. He’d been trying to convince her to celebrate for the better part of a week.
But Thea was already shaking her head. ‘Can’t. We’ve got to keep moving. I don’t want to lose his trail in another snowstorm.’
They had tracked Wilder Hawthorne right to the doorstep of the village, right into yet another swarm of gruesome creatures. Thea ground her teeth as she scanned the bodies littering thesnow. It was one of countless such instances they’d experienced. The fallen Warsword had led them on a wild goose chase around the midrealms, constantly throwing monsters between them, creating obstacles so he himself didn’t have to face them. Ironhelm, Kilgrave, Wilton – Thea had lost count of how many places they’d scoured in their hunt for Hawthorne, but she’d gladly scour a hundred more if it meant vengeance would be hers. It had become her currency, her religion. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the creak of the bow as she drew the string back, aiming for the weak patch in Hawthorne’s armour. But he vanished into shadow before she could survey the damage.
