The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy) Read online

  I dedicate this book to perseverance, imagination and integrity. I ’d also like to thank my father, Gary, who made this giant undertaking possible and encouraged me to keep going for all the right reasons.

  To all the people who tried to tell me it wasn’t epic fantasy, you were wrong, but thanks for challenging me. The Truth About Heroes: One of Many

  Chapter 1: She Who Holds the Torch 7

  Chapter 2: A Thief and a Rabbit 15

  Chapter 3: He Who Bears the Mark 35

  Chapter 4: To the River of Destiny! 47

  Chapter 5: Revenge, Party of Seven? 70

  Chapter 6: An Unknown Target 83

  Chapter 7: Whispers on the Wind 92

  Chapter 8: Trick of the Light 109

  Chapter 9: Afterglow 125

  Chapter 10: A Night to Remember 131

  Chapter 11: We Meet Again 144

  Chapter 12: Into the Void 177

  Chapter 13: Old Litter, New Husk 200

  Chapter 14: They Come Back to Haunt You 223

  Chapter 15: Reunion and Separation 237

  The Truth about Heroes: Two Sides to Everything

  Chapter 1: Broken Glass Ocean 256

  Chapter 2: Breath of Fresh Air 268

  Chapter 3: Nesting Dolls 282

  Chapter 4: The Tortoise and the Hare 294

  Chapter 5: The Undead Never Lie 311

  Chapter 6: Unnatural Selection 335

  Chapter 7: Alley of the Dolls 348

  Chapter 8: Grown Woman-Sitting 365

  Chapter 9: Hell’s Bells 376

  Chapter 10: Fear the Reaper 392

  Chapter 11: Truth and Consequences 407

  Chapter 12: Hold the Fort 417

  Chapter 13: Dominoes 428

  Chapter 14: First March 445

  Chapter 15: Devastation 457

  The Truth about Heroes: Ménage a Trois

  Chapter 1: Ignorance is Blisters 471

  Chapter 2: The Dreaded Ex 482

  Chapter 3: Going Under 495

  Chapter 4: Light Up My Life 506

  Chapter 5: Trial by Fire 519

  Chapter 6: Are You Sleeping? 530

  Chapter 7: Return to Port 545

  Chapter 8: Overabundance 556

  Chapter 9: On the Way to Ersenais 562

  Chapter 10: Nesting Place 581

  Chapter 11: Treasure You Can’t Measure 594

  Chapter 12: Home Sickness 608

  Chapter 13: The Other Side of Paradise 620

  Chapter 14: Heroes’ Tribute 644

  Final Chapter: Maidens of Merschenez 674

  Chapter 1: She Who Holds the Torch

  Rienna stood on the bare expanse of an enormous stone balcony protruding from Merschenez Castle, a buoyant smile lighting her peaceful face. She allowed herself this moment of inaction. Her strong, small hands gripped the rail as she ever so slightly leaned towards the endless blue ocean below and before her, breathing deeply the smell of salt and sea. The plain blue dress she wore whipped at her calves mercilessly but it went unnoticed. Her waist-length chestnut hair lashed at her sun-kissed skin, but again she paid it no mind. All she was aware of was the throbbing, over-spilling liquid happiness of her heart that shone in her smoky grey eyes. Today, she would marry her childhood sweetheart…

  Rienna met Belias when she was barely ten years old. She watched her father, Canis, train his soldiers at the barracks of Merschenez Castle, in the kingdom of Ersenais. Ever since she could remember it had only been her father and herself, her mother having died before she could remember her face. Anyone could tell that Rienna was the spitting image of her mother increasingly with each passing day. However, the similarities ended there.

  Having been raised by the King ’s Commander of the Royal Army, she became enamored with the art of war. Rienna’s father had indeed tried to appoint his daughter with a proper governess but his clever daughter always managed to slip away and follow his Captain, Redric, around like a lost puppy. Canis, unable to comprehend how to raise a young lady, was secretly overwhelmed with relief that his little daughter shared his passion and took it upon himself to have her trained; secretly, of course, for most would frown upon such things. The secret didn’t last very long; it was apparent that Rienna was awkward as a lady and took every opportunity to dress as a warrior. Belias was a young soldier of her father’s and though he trained with Redric for 3 years it wasn’t until Belias’s promotion into higher ranks that Rienna truly noticed Belias, a soft-spoken boy of thirteen years. She had seethed with jealousy that Canis and Redric had so much pride in that strange boy. It just wasn’t enough to be the apple of their eye simply because of who she was; Rienna wanted the respect befitting a warrior.

  As a boy, Belias had been considered weak and soft. At ten years of age, his features were frail and angelic; sunny blonde hair and such pale blue eyes. He would watch out of the window at the other boys in the orphanage who played in the sun all day. He was short and wiry, an endless target of bullying. He only fueled their desire to abuse him with his unfailing kindness, which was seen as a weakness. However, Belias was unnervingly clever and his ability to retaliate with a cool smile and an unbreakable strategy assured his survival. It had been those qualities that caught Canis’s eye and it took very little persuasion to convince Belias to train his body to match his mind. Within three years of relentless training, he caught up to other boys in height, his wiry limbs grew firm with lean muscle and darkened in the sun. His skills had become so unrivalled that none could deny that only his young age prevented him from being Redric’s second in command. Despite his unmatched skill, Belias remained kind and grew cleverer with each day.

  And so, on the day Rienna finally challenged Belias in single combat, they truly seemed ill matched for an ordinary relationship. A cocky, headstrong girl Rienna was and she took it upon herself to bring challenge to Belias, foolish if she were thinking straight, for the boy was so prized by her father. Surely he was just a boy of brute strength to be so favored. One particularly warm spring day fueled the girl’s resolve that her speed could prevail over his strength. As he sat by a gentle creek sharpening his beloved bastard sword, Triumph, she drew up her posture, indignant that he dared to grace one of her favorite hiding spots and drew her epee, pointing it at him in challenge. As persuasive as he could be, he had not been able to refuse. Belias had tried holding back but had been rewarded with a couple shallow slashes and once the battle heated, neither was willing to humor the other. It was only due to pure exhaustion that the challenge ended with Belias surrendering. Plus, he could hardly allow himself to bring harm to the daughter of the man who had rescued him from a struggling existence. Belias was disinterested in (but unfailingly kind to) the bossy, sharp-tongued girl and Rienna … well, Rienna didn’t much care for anyone who dared to take her father’s attention from her.

  Rienna laughed out loud at that memory. If not for that rainy night on her fourteenth birthday and Belias rescuing her from drowning in the rapids of Lesthene River, she might never have truly seen his kindness for what it really was. Both days she remembered now quite clearly: the day she first challenged Belias and the day she realized she loved him.

  And now she stood on that balcony, a nineteen-year-old young woman on the day of her wedding. It wouldn’t be long now until she would be called in to be adorned in that draping ethereal gown that she would wear for Belias alone. She didn’t normally wear dresses, preferring the clothes befitting the title of a woman warrior, but today was so very different. Today, she was walking down that aisle to be his woman alone. That didn’t mean she would ever stop being a warrior, a woman worth he
r own salt. She could belong to herself and still belong to another. The dress was only symbolic of their union. She wouldn’t let Belias forget that.

  “Miss Rienna, it is time!” Rozalyn, the princess’s own handmaiden, exclaimed to her in that bubbly way most women do when they are excited. Rienna smiled at that. Because of her father’s status, Rienna’s wedding day was fit for the princess herself.

  With a quiet nod and a little smile, Rienna folded her hands in front of her and demurely walked in towards Rozalyn. Apparently, not fast enough for Rozalyn who pranced over to her and forced her, quite clumsily and hurriedly, into the dressing room. In a flurry of fussiness, Rienna watched the whirlwind of maids, slipping on the dress with reverence, tugging at her hair, delicately applying a light mask of cosmetics, pinning a bit of flowers to her dress, dusting her skin with a translucent glittering powder. Rienna stood in disbelief as the maids hurried out wordlessly, tittering with glee for Rienna. It unnerved her that fashion could have the frenzy of battle. The dress made her look like a fairy princess, perfect and surreal. The pearly white fabric, prismatic with subtle pastel hues, clung to her form at the bodice and ballooned magnificently from the hips, a sweeping array of silken wonder. Golden borders were expertly woven into the dress and the pearly pink shimmering flowers pinned to her gown were the perfect touch. She was not yet done looking at her reflection with awe when Rozalyn returned, a prim smile on her round little face.

  “It seems we weren’t a moment too soon, miss,” Rozalyn softly spoke, wiping a single tear from her own cheek. “They are asking for the bride…”

  The hall where everyone waited was no less impressive. Though there were columns and short walls marking the eggshaped enormous hall, there was no roof but for a clever draping of fabrics to mark the occasion. Nearly a thousand people now sat in that hall quite comfortably. The hard lump that formed in Rienna’s throat immediately disappeared when she saw Belias waiting at the end of the aisle, that soft secret smile on his handsome face. Gods, how she had wanted to wipe that smile off his face once before she was privy to the secrets behind it. He was dressed as a high-ranking soldier, gleaming silver and creamy satin cloaked, he looked like a young hero god. In fact, since he was now a twenty-two-year-old man, he was ranked only below the King himself and Canis; Redric had died a warrior’s death, two years prior and, oh, how Rienna wished he could have been here today. She tore her eyes away from Belias only for a second to smile sweetly at her father, who took her arm to escort her to the man who would very soon be her husband. It took every ounce of will in her body not to simply charge down the aisle and into Belias’s arms. The little flower girl walked just ahead of her, spreading the same pink petals of the flowers pinned to her dress. Not taking her eyes from Belias, she gently squeezed her father’s arm as joyous tears slipped from her eyes. She allowed herself this woman’s weakness with awe, for tears of joy were a first for her.

  The walk seemed to take an eternity, a floating surreal tunnel of constant humming in her head, and when she finally reached the place where Belias stood, she was awash with relief and smiled lovingly at him through her veil. She barely heard the words that were already engraved on her heart and when the time came to exchange rings, she could barely keep her feet; Belias’s most impersonal touch always melted her like this, so this special touch was nearly more than she could take. She heard the words “husband and wife” and flew into Belias’s arms, amid a thunderous cheer from the crowd, to share her first full kiss with the man that was now her husband. It was an explosive, deep, and shameless kiss of longing and love. Explosive, yes… The loud bang and the sudden shrieking of frightened people, scattering wildly in every direction to escape, reaffirmed it. Rienna was stupefied into inaction. Shrieking? No, not in terror, surely!

  Belias pushed her back and gripped her arms tightly, gazing deeply into her eyes with firm resolution. “Stay here, Rienna. I’ll be back,” Belias commanded gently. He turned to join the soldiers that fled toward the unknown enemy, but stopped to look back at her, a gentle smile warming his face again. “I love you, Rienna.”

  Rienna was in such shock that she could not speak. She watched mutely as Belias turned to run across the hall, only able to reach her hand towards him weakly. Her inability to move stunned and confused her. An enormous machine broke through the wall with ease, a robotic monstrosity on legs, shielding its passenger. Rienna watched in horror as the soldiers and attendees alike were torn like paper, thrown about like boneless dolls. Her eyes moved and froze on Belias. He stood there, poised to strike but knowing the futility, as the machination turned towards him. Before her eyes, a single pulsing magic bullet emitted from the gun of that horrid thing … and pierced through Belias’s chest. He crumpled to the floor, already dead.

  It was then that Rienna’s body finally started to work. Rienna was full of such rage, despair and horror as her limbs gathered purchase. She was sure that she had been spelled into temporary paralysis, a spell that only broke with the unknown magician’s death. With a bloodcurdling war cry, she charged towards Belias’s lifeless form, tearing madly at her dress to get to him faster. She fell beside his body and clutched at his shoulders, unable to stomach the truth, grabbing ineffectively for a weapon that she did not carry today. The machine simply stood there. She wiped at the streams of tears on her cheeks that she hadn’t noticed until then and looked up into the cockpit … and there she saw, to her disbelief, Melchior.

  Melchior, her father’s own soldier who left to find a piece of his past. Melchior, Belias’s own best friend… He grinned coldly down at her, no sign of a friend in those eyes, then moved the machine swiftly out of the ruined hall and into the sky.

  There was no sound in Rienna’s world but for her own anguished scream. A hand gently rested on Rienna’s shoulder, some unknown time later. She swatted at it as she clung to Belias’s cold body, but the hand was gentle and persistent. She looked up to see Seije, the man who had ranked just below her now-dead husband, some title she didn’t care to remember. He kneeled beside her reverently and stayed there for a long time without speaking.

  Finally, he said, “Rienna, do you want the ring?” Rienna’s eyes locked onto his lifelessly, her thumb sweeping side to side over the ring on Belias’s cooling corpse. Some part of her whispered that Seije was trying to ground her back to reality. Sound was coming back to her gradually, sluggish and hollow like inside a tin can. “No, he is still my husband, Seije. Let it stay with him,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Numbly, Rienna’s hands reached for the dagger in Belias’s belt, a weapon she hadn’t remembered in the primal rage and blindness of her grief, when only her fingers feeling for cold steel were active. It was a miniature version of his beloved Triumph, the matching set forged from the same steel and given as a gift from her father. Seije looked nervous as she drew it out of its sheathe. Her eyes slid slowly to meet Seije’s.

  “It was Melchior who did this, Seije. I saw him. Now I will use this dagger” — Rienna jammed the dagger back into its sheathe— “to cut out that bastard’s heart. He should’ve stayed dead.”

  Seije watched as Rienna staggered to her feet and wandered out of the hall, the wails and moans never reaching her ears as the remaining soldiers struggled to clean up the massacre. He followed her closely with hesitation and concern. Finally, Rienna halted her steps again and stared down at another body for several long seconds. The tears ached to fall again but did not fall. She could cry no more. She bent down beside the body of her father and took the long sword from his hand, unbuckling the sheathe and reverently stowing the blade away. She slung the strap across the front of her body; Melchior would taste the cold kiss of Justice as well. Seije’s lip trembled in horror as their eyes found the same body now. It was the King.

  Rienna turned to Seije again, grief contorting her face to rage and then cold hard pain.

  “Looks like you’re in charge now, Seije. Take care of Ersenais while I’m gone, okay? I’ll tear down the entire Vieres continent
if I have to. Cross the oceans if that’s what it takes,” Rienna said, emotion leaving her face completely as she trudged in a direction away from all she had known. Away from the body of Belias. Away from the body of her father and his King.

  She was already approaching the King’s Market, having walked a couple of hours aimlessly, when she heard a thundering of hooves and a familiar voice calling out “Rienna! Wait!”

  She turned rigidly and saw it was Seije approaching on his horse.

  “It was stupid of me to leave you to go without a plan, Rienna, but please hear me out. You cannot face that man alone,” Seije pleaded with her to see reason, sliding down off of the horse. “Take this horse. If you ride hard to the south until dusk, you can reach Neibelung City. There’s a tavern there called Haveshing Mark. You need to find a man named Krose there. He can track anyone and anything. Will you promise to do this, Rienna?”

  Rienna’s dead expression stabbed at his heart.

  “I can promise nothing anymore, Seije. But I will do as you ask,” Rienna stated coldly, mounting the horse with practiced ease. She looked down at Seije one last time. “I may not return here again, so take care of yourself.”

  Seije watched Rienna spur the horse into a gallop and ride south. Her words stung at him. Rienna had on this day lost all the family she had ever known. Silently, he said a prayer, hoping she would live a long life … and someday start a family of her own. Was that hoping too much?

  Yet as the thundering of the hooves increased, so too did the pounding of Rienna’s heart. And only one thing echoed in her mind now.

  Melchior…