The Destiny Trilogy. Book One: The Four Levels of Godhood. Part I: Inteurn. Chapter 2: Out Cold

When he arrived back at his village, it was morning, and under the morning sun he was able to see every detail with horrid clarity.

The smell of burnt flesh—whether it was from the burned down huts that were made of animal hides or the remains of the villagers—hung heavily in the air. It was the first thing to hit him as he re-entered the village. He resisted the urge to throw up.

How could so much destruction be achieved in a mere few hours? So much death…

Inteurn was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that Gradice was suddenly next to him on his own horse. How was he able to follow him without Inteurn seeing or hearing him? "How…?" Inteurn began. "I have my ways, that's all you need to know for now." Gradice cut in. "You make me nervous, Gradice." Said Inteurn, shaking his head and dismounting his horse. Gradice followed suit.

Just then, the wind kicked up, whipping Inteurn's long, silver hair into his face. And with the wind came a flood of memories of what this place once was.

An evil mixture of anger and sorrow washed over him as he walked around the remnants of the village. He made his last stop at the place where the hut he was born in once stood, now just timber, Gradice close in tow. Fresh anger welled up within him.

Suddenly he heard movement and a groan coming from a pile of charred wood nearby. Someone survived! Inteurn moved to where he heard the movement and removed the debris—to reveal his father…

Inteurn fell to his knees beside him, not caring that he now knelt on sharp bits of wood and broken glass. "Father…what have they done to you?" Inteurn whispered, tears forming in his eyes, even though he knew too well. He observed the part at his father's ribs and head where he was bleeding. They had pierced a lung. He wouldn't last long; he knew…Inteurn cradled his father's head in his arms. Jerod's breathing was labored. "Son…you shouldn't've come back…"

"Inteurn, we must go." Came Gradice's reluctant but insistent request. "Do not tell me when I must go!" Inteurn shot back, giving Gradice the only death look. How dare he think of pulling him away from his dying father? "Inteurn," Gradice persisted with more confidence. "They are coming back!"

Before Inteurn could protest again, Gradice grabbed onto him. Inteurn wondered what that would achieve; the land his village had been built on was a flat plain, and since the village was now flattened, anyone coming over the horizon could just see them. "Don't move. Don't breathe." Gradice ordered. Inteurn looked upon him as if Gradice had gone crazy.

Gradice raised his hand, revealing a single gold ring around his thumb, with a diamond set in it. He gave the ring a twist so that the diamond was at the top of his thumb. "Stay very still." Gradice whispered harshly, as a small team of perhaps a score of the marauders rode back into the leveled area.

"Son?" Jerod wheezed, looking around, and at one point, staring right at Inteurn, but the frantic look on Jerod's face suggested that he couldn't see him! Inteurn resisted the urge to call out Father, I'm right here! for a handful of the marauders had dismounted. One of them heard Jerod speak and came over to investigate. Inteurn was frantic.

"Well, what have we here?" the brute sneered, far too amused with himself. "A survivor." He said, grinning his horrible teeth and drawing his large knife. Inteurn couldn't stand there while this animal finished his father off. Inteurn pulled out of Gradice's grasp and launched at the brute. "Get away from my father, you animal!" Inteurn growled as he tackled the man to the ground and pinned him down. "Inteurn, don't!" Came Gradice's concerned voice. He came into full visibility. No sense staying hidden.

Inteurn restrained the man's knife hand and punched the man with his free hand. Inteurn was aware that the other men were present and surrounding them, but he didn't care. "What have you done with my mother, you fiend?" He hissed.

Now it was in the afternoon and everything was still. The most prominent sound was that of heavy breathing. The marauders drew their weapons. Gradice stood guard over Jerod. The tension hung heavy in the air, but Inteurn still didn't care. He continued to press for answers. "Answer me!" He bore his teeth like a wolf.

A single voice of laughter broke the tension—but added to the sense of danger in exchange. The man bearing the laugh stepped forward; obviously he was the leader. He sheathed his weapon and made a hand signal for the others to do the same. The leader was very amused by this scene and thought that the boy had spunk, which he admired.

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Monsters. All of them. He was surrounded by inhuman, monsters. How they sneered. They were mocking him. Yes, they were mocking the boy for being so silly as to be upset that his beloved village was nothing more than charred timber and a memory now; that only the Gods knew what became of his mother; that his father's life was slipping away at that very moment…They laugh, and the man now approaching him—obviously the leader—laughed the hardest. It was time for Inteurn to make it stop.

"This fool may not have the answers I seek," Began Inteurn, drawing the sword of the man he had pinned and standing quickly. "But you certainly would!" Finished Inteurn as he pointed the sword at the leader. "Do you dare hold a sword to me, boy?" Laughed the leader, as if it were the funniest thing known to man as he drew his own sword and playfully tapped it against Inteurn's stolen outstretched sword. Before Inteurn could act on his anger the man he had tackled restrained him. The leader simply walked over and took the sword from the boy's hand.

"Foolish boy." Said the leader. He shook his head and smiled. He mocks me still! Thought Inteurn, angered that he could do nothing, for he was no match for these men. He did the only thing he could do to prove his disdain: he spat at the man before him, which caught the man right on the nose. The leader found this all too amusing, and was still smiling when he backhanded the boy.

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The tension that was instantly built was so thick it was suffocating. The surrounded three were not at ease, to say the least. Gradice was standing guard over Inteurn's father, and it pained him to see the older man face so stricken with pain and fear for his son. Gradice stooped down to meet him and attempted to lighten the steadily weakening man's worry.

"Hello, Bizohedo sir/mister. I'm afraid we weren't properly introduced." Began Gradice, smiling sincerely. "I'm Gradice Yugesoji." "I am Jerod Matabretish." Inteurn's father replied, barely audible. "It's an honor to meet you," Said Gradice honestly. He could see why Inteurn was so adamant about anyone else claiming him as son. "I assure you, Bizohedo Matabretish, I will watch over your son for as long as I can. The Joir and I will keep an eye on him and we will make sure he never forgets you." Gradice promised, meaning it with all his heart. Jerod smiled and wheezed. Seeing the man in such pain saddened him. "Shh, be still," said Gradice, smiling soothingly as he placed his hand lightly over Jerod's eyes and said a quiet prayer to the guardian of the Nether Realm. He will put the man out of his misery. Within moments he felt Jerod's spirit leave his body through Gradice's fingers. "Peace be with you, Bizohedo…"

Gradice then turned his attention to Inteurn and his predicament, for now he was being restrained by the marauders and was being manhandled.

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"Do you really wish to know what became of your mother, boy?" The leader cackled. "Yes." Inteurn hissed through clenched teeth. "Well, boy, your mother, as well as all the other women and children have been sold into slavery. But I kept some of the more spunky boys to be apart of my ranks. And I think you would be a suitable addition."

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Gradice knew that something needed to be done; he had the power so it would be his obligation. And whatever he decided to do, he'd better do it now. Gradice made for the ring but something occurred to him: if he doesn't succeed, the first thing that'll happen once he's detained is the ring will be taken away from him. So I guess I'll be doing this the old fashioned way, then, He concluded.

Gradice found it fortunate that the marauders had their weapons sheathed; he wanted every advantage he could get. He rose from where he had been kneeling next to Inteurn's now-dead father, strode confidently up to one of the men and without hesitation, punched him in the stomach hard enough for the man to double over his fist, and followed that up with an uppercut. The other men now drew their weapons.

Two of the men launched at him just then. One swung for Gradice's head, the other lunged for his stomach. Gradice waited for the last possible moment and back flipped, resulting in the two men striking each other instead.

Another man thrusted for Gradice's gut, but Gradice sidestepped, allowing the sword to pass him. Using the man's momentum, Gradice grabbed the man's extended right hand at the wrist with his left hand, grabbed the man's upper arm with his right hand, and punched the man in the jaw with his left hand, all in one fluid motion, the slid his right hand down the man's arm and took his sword.

The man was regaining his bearings, but Gradice was already upon him. He quickly swooped behind the man, holding the man's head steady with his left hand and drew the sword across they man's throat with his right hand, then let the man fall.

Another man was making for him, but this man was careful not to rush him. Gradice readied himself, but a slash to his back halted his attack. He dropped his stolen sword and fell to his knees, and then fell face-first into the sand. The shock of the pain momentarily immobilized him.

The man that attacked Gradice from behind flipped him over and stratled him, pinning him down. The man raised his sword with both hands, aiming the tip at Gradice's neck and stabbed downwards…but Gradice caught the blade between his clasped hands.

Under Gradice's grip the blade began to quake violently. This surprised the man, and in his surprise the man loosened his grip on the sword. Gradice seized this opportunity. He quickly tossed aside the weapon and pushed the man onto his back. Without hesitation, Gradice clawed his hand over where the man's heart should be, and concentrated. Gradice balled his hand into a fist. The man yelled out in anguish as he felt his heart burst on the inside…and then the man was very still…

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Inteurn couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. He was struck dumb with awe. Indeed, Gradice did make him nervous.

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Suddenly the leader heard the sounds of struggle going on behind him and when he turned around to see what was going on, all he saw was the other young man taking on his men—and was holding his own rather effectively. The leader began considering how lucky he was to have such potential fall right into his lap. But as impressed as he was with this display, he didn't want to lose any more of his men, and the longer his men fought the boy, the more likely it was that they would kill him.

The leader raised his arms and closed his eyes. A strong wind began kicking up the sand around him, speeding up until it became a cyclone. Instantly the struggling stopped, for now the combatants could no longer reach each other…or the ground.

Then he turned his attention to the stunned boys that suddenly found themselves floating. The wind around them spun faster and faster until both boys were in the eye of their own twister. The wind stole their breath, discontinuing the airflow to their brains, thus knocking them unconscious. Easing everyone back down to earth, the leader said playfully, "Alright men, enough fooling around. Take the boys to the wagon and let's move out!"

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Gradice was in sensory overload; trying to understand why he was floating, compounded with the sharp pain in his lower back, was enough to make his head spin. He was truly getting dizzy, and before he blacked out completely, he came to one last realization: That man is a wind mage also!

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