Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (67 page)

Feeling their despair, Brandon fought the pain and crossed his heart with both arms to send them a last gesture of love. He pointed to each and winked while forcing a short statement with his last bit of air. “You make me proud.”

That was it. His last breath was gone. Gasping for more would only serve to frighten his children. He knew it was pointless to fight for the oxygen he needed as he lowered to his knees. Selflessly, he fought back the convulsions with everything in him, not wanting his children to see his suffering.

Brandon won this final battle. He was able to keep his body steady as he felt for his own pulse. The beats continued to fade, just as his family did from his sight.

With his eyes now clear, Sam stood at the center of the arena and studied the crowd. He did not receive the reaction he was accustomed to since his first fight in Angels Village. He walked across the arena to where Brandon was lying and stopped above the fallen warrior.

Sensing the need for compassion, Sam knelt and scooped Brandon’s corpse into his arms. As he lifted Brandon off the sand, the crowd’s silent reaction told the story. This man was well-loved, and he would be missed.

Sam’s gaze settled on a woman in the first row. Many of the faces in the crowd seemed to be looking in her direction. She was standing with her sobbing children tucked against, and though he could see the heartache on her face, she kept her head held high.

As Sam’s attention shifted to the youngest of her children, his heart sunk. The man in his arms had to be their father.

CHAPTER 25

An Unheard Prayer

SAM CARRIED BRANDON FROM the arena to the healer’s vestry, where Brandon’s body would be prepared and given to his family for a proper Passing Ceremony. For this man to be lying on one of the healer’s tables was devastating.

This had been the type of fight in which Sam could win by making his opponent submit. He had even trained the previous Peak and committed himself to this form of victory. He had hoped to secure the win without causing another death, but it was not meant to be.

He looked down at Brandon’s figure and watched as the healers gave way to the mortician. The people had adored his opponent. The mortician said he was a local farmer and ironworker. Sam even overheard the crowd that surrounded the woman in the first row say that she was his wife.

Sam thought back to how Josephine’s tears rolled down her face when he looked at her. The dead man’s sons were strong boys. They held their ground and did not look away. The oldest had even nodded and showed Sam respect as he held his father in his arms.

“What’s his name?” Sam asked the mortician. “It’s clear he was beloved.”

The large lady, dressed in black, with her hair tied in a bun, responded, “His name was Brandon Smith. He was the father of seven children—six boys and a girl. Another child is expected. Everyone knew him. His whole family is loved. He fought in this arena for 12 seasons.”

“May I wait until the family arrives? I would like to express my regret for their loss.”

The look on the undertaker’s face suggested that his request was odd. “Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “I don’t know how well you’ll be received.”

After a while, Brandon’s wife walked into the room. When she entered, Sam was standing over Brandon’s body with his back to the door.

Josephine paused, caught off guard by his presence. She swallowed and moved to the opposite side of her husband’s body.

Sam watched as she leaned over to hug Brandon’s corpse and kiss him on the forehead. She did this for what felt like an eternity. To Sam’s surprise, she maintained her strength.

When she rose to face him, Josephine started to speak, but stopped to catch the tears that wanted to escape. After three agonizing breaths, she said, “What’s your name, fighter?”

Sam wanted to make up a name and run from the room. He had to search for the nerve to speak. “My name is Sam.”

“Well, Sam,” she sighed, “my name is Josephine Smith. This is…” she paused to collect herself. “This
was
my husband, Brandon. He would have been proud to know you. The way you handled yourself, the way you have shown my family respect by carrying him from the arena, he would have found you to be a man of character. He would have believed his death to be honorable. My husband felt to die in battle was glorious. As much as I would like to be angry with you, I cannot dishonor Brandon’s memory with this emotion. I would like to invite you to his Passing Ceremony. It will be held tomorrow. I’m sure Brandon would’ve felt honored to have you attend.”

A young boy walked into the room. Sam watched as the child moved close to his mother. Just as Josephine had done, he bent over to kiss his father’s forehead. As the child straightened, he handled himself with a presence Sam felt to be far above his seasons. The boy walked around the table and stuck out his arm. Sam felt small as they took hold of each other’s forearm.

Brandon Jr. looked into Sam’s eyes and nodded, “You’re a mighty warrior, sir. My father’s death was glorious. I can only hope to be so honored that I might pass in this manner. I shall follow your career. Do not let my father’s memory pass with you.” The boy released his grip and left the room.

Josephine spoke after her son left. “He will be strong, for now, but he’ll seek solitude. My husband taught our sons that fighting in the arena is noble. He told them that if anything was to happen, they were to hold their heads high and be men. Brandon Jr. will cry when he gets home. But for now, he will honor his father as Brandon would’ve wanted.”

Sam fell to his knees and apologized. His emotions were so intense that Josephine had to comfort him. She encouraged him back to his feet.

“Please don’t, Sam. A man does not weep in the arena. My husband would’ve believed his death to be praiseworthy. His wish would be that you not mourn, but rather celebrate. After his Passing, I’d like you and your family to stay at the farm to celebrate with us. It would be an honor … if it wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

Sam confirmed that he would attend. After he left the room, he joined BJ and Shalee who were waiting. Without saying a word, they left for the inn. Once they were settled in their room, BJ explained, “The remaining fights have been canceled in Brandon’s honor. The banker of the arena told me that every fighter will be paid as if they had won both their fights. Rumor has it that most of the city’s merchants will shut their doors for Brandon’s Passing Ceremony.”

BJ paused in thought. “Can you imagine how many people will be in attendance, Sam? A populated area isn’t considered a city until it has reached 31,000 souls. If most of these people knew Brandon, this will be a monumental event.”

Sam moved to stand over a wooden table that sat next to the cold hearth of the fireplace in their room. He poured a drink of water from the pitcher. The drink did not quench his thirst the way it normally did. After three more mugs and a long period of silence, Sam finally spoke. “I can only imagine what it would be like to be so well-loved by a community that everyone mourns your passing. I don’t know how I can step back into the arena. How am I going to face all these people? You should have seen his wife. She was so gracious and kind. Even her son was strong. Going to Brandon’s Passing will be far worse than battle. There’s no way I can continue.”

As soon as Sam stopped speaking, the ground beneath the city shook. The shaking lasted for 21 breaths.

From inside the Source’s cavernous home on Luvelles, Lasidious shook the remaining pieces of the Crystal Moon as he held them together in the palms of his hands. After he finished, he placed the crystals back into the pockets of his robe and stared into a shallow river of lava that flowed through the dragon’s cave. The images of Sam, BJ and Shalee shimmered within.

The God of Mischief laughed as he watched the misery on Sam’s face. Lasidious looked up and found the ancient dragon’s massive set of eyes and shouted, “He’ll fight again alright! He’ll definitely fight again! You’ll see!”

The Source’s voice was booming. “You find much pleasure in toying with mortals. I have seen many who call themselves gods fall because of the games they’ve played with those they created.”

Lasidious frowned, “You worry too much. I am the Mischievous One for a reason.”

The dragon leaned back and spread his mighty wings. A torrential wind filled the cavern. Lasidious’ hood flew back from the top of his head as the dragon responded. “Perhaps you’re right. Or perhaps your fate will be the same as those who perished before you.”

“Baaahh!” Lasidious vanished.

The dragon’s laughter shook the mountain. Many of the stones laying across the top of the cliffs toppled.

After feeling the quake, Shalee pulled BJ aside and told the trainer this was her series of moments to handle Sam’s despair.

BJ did not argue and left the room.

Shalee turned to Sam, “Sweetie, you have no choice. You must fight. You said it earlier when you fought the Minotaur. You’re fighting for everyone. Brandon knew what he was doing when he entered the arena. He knew there was a chance of not leaving alive. It’s obvious he was a good father, and he taught his children the arena is a place of honor. But my goodness, Sam, you can’t let this trip you up.”

“Okay, okay. Hold onto that thought. You’re not making sense. Brandon didn’t have his wife use magic to help him absorb punches like you did for me. This guy should have kicked my ass. The punches he hit me with, and the kick to my chest, should have knocked me out. He died because we cheated him out of victory. There’s no honor in that. I’m tired of killing. I’m tired of justifying my actions because I need to save this world. How can I face Brandon’s family knowing what I’ve done? How could you expect me to continue?”

Shalee moved close and placed her hand on Sam’s heart. Her voice was soft, but firm. “I want you to listen to me, Sam, and I mean you listen well. You trained to make Brandon submit, not kill him. I saw you swing. You couldn’t even see. It was dumb luck that you won. We both know there’s more at stake than one man’s life. If we don’t find a way to gain an audience with the King of Brandor and find the stupid pieces of this Crystal Moon, everything we’ve done will have been for nothing.”

A soft look appeared on Shalee’s face. “Answer me this, Sam. With what you know about Brandon, don’t you think he would’ve chosen to die so that you could go on to save the rest of his family? I do.”

Sam thought long and hard before he responded. “I don’t agree with your logic. I believe Brandon would’ve wanted to spend every last moment he could with his family ... even if he knew the world was coming to an end.”

Sam moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it across the room. After he watched it hit the door, he continued, “This place pisses me off! The gods are morons! I’ll keep fighting to save these people, but I won’t dishonor Brandon’s death by allowing you to use your magic on me again. I will fight like every other man. If I’m supposed to die, then so be it. I won’t look Brandon’s family in the eye and know that I plan to cheat others out of victory.”

Kael pulsated as the blade hung from Sam’s hip. “I think you’ve finally become a leader, Sam. I could not be more proud.”