Glaive (eBook)

Blade of a Flower

Michael Guadiz (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2018 | 1. Auflage
350 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-5439-4158-6 (ISBN)

Infos

You can live forever in the world of Zem'Alam... depending on who you kill. Glaive Grimstone was ready to quit the cycle and embrace his own death until he found something, or rather someone, to live for again.

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Anyone could live forever in the world of Zem'Alam. If one was rich, lucky, or strong enough, it was easy to accumulate the power, the lifeforce, the e'lan to live for ages. Glaive Grimstone, a man who had lived for over three centuries, was ready to die. He was ready to let his e'lan fade away and embrace his own death until he found something, or rather someone, to live for again. Glaive, Blade of a Flower is an action-packed adventure filled with clashing swords and violent deaths.

Textauszug

1

A Little Girl

Glaive Grimstone was ready to die. He walked through the slums of Galloway and waited for the last thin ring around his wrist to fade away. Once it was gone, he would be dead. He had not added to his lifeforce, his e’lan, in many years.

A person of this world, Zem’Alam, could live forever. He or she only needed to maintain their e’lan and avoid an unnatural death. Once they reached adulthood, bodies ceased to physically change as time passed. Unlike animals who became frail as they got older, a person did not age once the e’lan took root.

Three hundred years earlier, Glaive had feared death like most. When the rings indicated he had less than a year to live, he became anxious. He panicked. He rarely let the e’lan get to that point, however, and he risked his life on raids in Rimeland and slaughtered others to extend his own time. He took contracts to kill powerful men and women and assimilated their energy into his own. But now he preferred to let the e’lan run its course.

He no longer clung tightly to the world, running madly from horrifying life after death of the Three Hells. Instead, he strolled wearily to their gates.

The midday summer sun beat down on Glaive. He passed rickety buildings with his shoulders slumped. Structures with rotting, dangling, or missing wood boards were common in this ghetto. The decayed wooden roof shingles were poorly patched if patched at all. The pervasive smell of rot and dung once gave him pause, but now he was simply desensitized to it.

The sounds of this slum were uninspiring. A man with a chronic cough cared nothing for his infection. An urchin begged with a tin cup and asked for a silver note or two. A violent drunk shouted and blamed his wife for his own failures. A woman hooked on kefbutter or dried black-caps rambled nonsense. Glaive heard moans, cries, curses, and catcalls, some of the latter even directed at him. But no laughter. If it existed in these parts, he did not hear it.

The slums were where most people with dwindling e’lan rings lived. Many wore short-sleeved or sleeveless shirts which displayed their proximity to death. The message was that it would not be worth an attempt to steal their e’lan. After all, even in the slums everyone carried a blade, and the risk outweighed the possibility of meager rewards.

Glaive walked with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His button-up shirt which used to be a crisp white had turned several shades of brown and grey as dirt and grime settled in over years of hard wear. His pants were also plain and brown. His clothes were not fancy, though his entire outfit was clearly higher quality than the rags worn by other slum folks.

A plain short sword hung from his belt on his left side. On the right, he had a small pouch which carried his Keener card deck and related game chips.

As he meandered between poor excuses for housing, Glaive wondered what his last breath would feel like. Would it hurt to pass in this manner? Had he given enough spirit to Zem’Alam over the years so his mind could spend eternity in only the First Hell of the Three? As he wandered into an alleyway he saw two men corner a little girl. Their backs were to him.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing?” one of the thugs said to the girl. “How about you come with us and keep us company?”

“Yeah,” the other one chimed in. “We have candy back at our place.”

The little girl trembled. Her wide eyes brimmed with tears. She balled her hands into tiny fists. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

Glaive’s mind told him to leave, but his body wouldn’t budge. He looked down, surprised to see his hand on the hilt of his sword. What am I doing? Glaive thought.

One of the men reached a hand to the girl.

“That’s close enough,” Glaive said. His voice cracked. It sounded strange to him as he hadn’t used it much as of late.

The thugs turned and drew their swords. One snarled and showed he was missing more than a few teeth. “What have we here? A hero?” he said.

“Look at his ink, Bumper,” the other one pointed out. “Barely a thread there.” He motioned at Glaive’s wrist.

“Probably just a boy who hasn’t been able to earn more,” Bumper said. “Easy pickings, Earl.”

“Easy pickings,” Earl said, smiling. “I get his boots. They look like they’d fit me real nice. We’ll split the money from his sword and cards.”

Glaive glanced down at his soft leather boots. He liked these boots. A multipurpose knife was strapped around each of his calves and tucked into each. “Hold on now,” he said. “I’m sure we can…” before he could complete his sentence, Bumper charged at him.

Glaive spun to the side. While he was in the middle of his spin, he drew his sword smoothly. He flowed with the momentum of his turn and slashed horizontally, removing Bumper’s head from his body. It all happened in the space of half a breath.

Power rushed into Glaive as his body assimilated the dead man’s e’lan. The thin line around Glaive’s wrist thickened and multiplied. Now, three dark rings appeared around Glaive’s left forearm.

Earl glanced at the body on the cobblestone road then focused on the severed head at Glaive’s feet. Blood pooled all around the corpse.

Glaive cursed as he stepped to get out of the puddle. Then he stood at the ready position, sword pointed at the shocked thug. “Easy pickings,” Glaive said dully.

Earl attacked. His movements were much faster than normally possible.

He’s burning e’lan, Glaive thought. To counter that burst of speed and power, Glaive did a short, quick, controlled burn of his own. He had little to spare. He barely parried the overhand strike, but it was enough to pull Earl completely off balance and stumbling forward. Glaive took full advantage of the opening and slashed a deep gash across Earl’s back.

Earl spun with a wild horizontal swing. Glaive easily ducked under the attack and thrust his sword deep into Earl’s gut. Earl collapsed to the cobblestones, and Glaive ended the man’s misery with a stab to the heart.

More power poured into Glaive as he pulled his sword from the corpse. He glanced at the lifeforce rings on his forearm, and they were bolder than before. He frowned.

He bent over one of the corpses and used the man’s tattered cloak to clean his sword. After he sheathed the blade, he rifled through the dead men’s pouches for their Keener card decks. He glanced through the cards, took one from each, and slid them into his own pocket.

“Do you want any of these?” Glaive said as he held the rest out for the little girl. She did not move. She was still as a stone. He shrugged and casually tossed the stack onto one of the bodies. The cards scattered and some slid off into the pool of blood.

He went through the rest of the pockets. He came away with a couple silver notes that totaled forty geldarian, and stuffed them into the same pocket as the two cards he just looted. He stood up straight and rolled his head in a circle to loosen the tension in his neck.

He did not take their swords or boot knives. They were poorly balanced and made of low quality steel. He could have sold the lot for a couple hundred geldarian, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. Another poor soul who came across this mess could have it.

Glaive turned and walked away. His posture was a little better than it was moments ago, but not by much. His shoulders still slumped, but now he was conscious of it. He started down an alleyway in the direction of the shoddy docks.

He heard the sound of feet shuffling along behind him. He paused. Without turning he said gruffly, “Go home, kid,” and started forward again.

Glaive heard the steps again. He turned around and saw the girl only a few paces away. He drew up to his full height then sighed. She was short. The top of the child’s head came up to Glaive’s elbow. He knelt down to be at eye level with her.

She was in a shadow earlier. Now that she was out in full sunlight he saw her features more clearly. She was clean as if this were her first day out in the slums. Her clothes were very fine although she was still dressed in her nightgown. Perhaps a noble’s daughter? Glaive thought. A leather thong cord was looped around her skinny neck like a necklace. Whatever ornament it held was hidden under the gown.

The wavy, platinum blonde hair was a tangled mess on her head and came down past her shoulders. Her eyes were large and set into a round face with pale skin that made the unusual color more prominent. He did not notice in the bloody...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 12.8.2018
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• ISBN-10: 1-5439-4158-3 / 1543941583
• ISBN-13: 978-1-5439-4158-6 / 9781543941586