Blades of Destiny

Book summary

Rella's quest for truth in a society that shuns it as heresy begins when she sees a spacecraft crash on Arcadia. In "Blades of Destiny," Rella, skilled with blades and fueled by the unjust execution of her father, allies with a secretive Omi monk. Together, they navigate the perilous underground mazes of the Omi's Sanctuary to save her friend and unearth the hidden truths of their world. This tale weaves action, intrigue, and the pursuit of forbidden knowledge in a society clinging to power through deception.

Excerpt from Blades of Destiny

Rella lay fixed in the snow, her face succumbing to the same sensation of numbness as her fingers and toes. Her mind was still reeling from the elbow that had nearly dislocated her jaw.

"Do you think she's from the village?" one of the Enforcers asked.

Rella concentrated more on gluing her eyes shut and normalizing her breathing than on what they were saying. She couldn't let them know she was awake. She wasn't sure why these two Enforcers had attacked her on sight. Hunting was still legal under the Omi's law. All she had been doing was seeking some game on her way to Elara's house.

"We should kill her just in case."

"Maybe we should check with the general. She could be someone important."

"Don't be a fool, no one important lives in these hills anymore."

Rella stole a peek at the ground beside the Enforcers' feet. Her heart thudded in her ears. There, next to the Enforcers, lay her bow and arrows, along with the three knives that had been ripped from her belt and pockets.

She held her breath to keep from sighing with relief. They hadn't found the fourth knife in her boot. She still had a weapon. She could still escape.

She'd stowed the knife there on every hunt as a precaution against such assaults but had never imagined needing it to defend herself against the Enforcers. They had no business being in this section of the woods. Taxes weren't due for several more weeks.

Rella's stomach dropped as she thought of what that might mean. Elara's cabin was the only thing within miles in these parts of the woods, and Rella knew her friend had been struggling ever since her father's illness. Had she failed to pay her taxes? All Rella could do was make her escape and reach Elara's before any additional Enforcers appeared.

"Fine, we'll take her to the general and he can decide what to do with her," one said. "But you're carrying her."

She felt a feeble grasp on her ankles as her legs were hoisted into the air. She clenched a fist. Now it'd be too risky to reach for her knife. The man dragged her slowly across the snow, but before long, he had to stop for breath.

Rella opened an eyelid to see the other man halting his retrieval of her weapons and to look at his partner. "What's the hold-up?"

"She's heavier than she looks."

Her body stiffened at the remark, not that she'd ever admit to being vain or anything.

The Enforcer abandoned her weapons and went to help. "Are you kidding? You can't drag one little girl? Pathetic weakling."

Rella slowly reached for one of her knives in the leaves, careful not to cause a scraping sound against the white slush. She was too late. A more powerful grip on her ankle hauled her away from her weapons.

Her back and head bumped against every rock in the forest. She bit her lip. It took everything she had not to groan out in pain. She looked up to see the handle of her knife sticking out from her right boot, while the two men faced forward. This was as good a chance as she was getting.

She lunged for her knife. The man yanked her away by her feet just before her fingers could get around the handle.

He stared at her, realizing she was awake. He reached for his sword, but she planted her boot directly in his face, flooring him.

She retrieved her knife and jerked her foot away from the other, much younger, Enforcer, who appeared confused as to what was happening. The second he reached for his weapon, she hurled her knife, aiming for the heart so his death would be quick.

Rella turned and sprinted for the pile of weapons they had left behind. The other Enforcer bolted after her.

With a snarl, he tackled her to the ground. Rella thrashed wildly to get free, but his weight held her down. He punched her, telling her to stop. Blood oozed from her nose.

With all her might, Rella drove her elbow directly into the Enforcer's ribs, feeling the jolt of bone against bone. He stumbled, losing his balance. Seizing the opportunity, she leapt up and darted for her bow and arrows, loaded the bow, and spun to face the Enforcer, firing at his chest just as he got back to his feet. This time, she aimed for a lung, and the impact of her arrow produced a dull, hollow plunk.

He rolled onto his back, choking on blood. Rella knew she should feel something watching him die. He was still human, even if he was Omi. But inside she felt as empty as the dying man's eyes. She picked up her things and wiped the blood trickling from her nose.

She continued on to Elara's house, now at a quicker pace. She had to know if Elara was all right. She still wasn't sure the Enforcers were here for her, but why else would they be out this far in the forest? Then again, she could never understand anything the Omi did. Only the Omi could protect the territories from outer threats, they said, and only by being devout to the Creator could everyone be safe from evil. Really, the Omi were the only evil everyone needed protection from.

As Rella reached the outskirts of Elara's home, she feared the worst. Outside was a wagon not belonging to Elara or her father.

There were no footprints in the snow. No one had been out all day. Perhaps the Enforcers hadn't been here, but then whose was the wagon? The wagon was large enough to transport goods and it had a driver's seat mounted on the headboard, though the horses to pull the wagon were missing.

Rella took out her bow, getting an arrow ready to defend herself. She tiptoed across the snow towards the stone cottage. No matter how gently she crept, the sound of snow crunching under her boots was unavoidable.

She slowly creaked open the door. It was almost as cold inside as out. A fire hadn't been lit in days at least.

Rella heard something. Someone whimpering, shivering, and moaning—they sounded agitated, in pain, and in need of help.

A pale and shivering man rested in the main bedroom. It wasn't Elara's father. A crossbow and a large, blue jug rested beside him.

His skin stretched tightly over bone, little muscle remaining. He said through blue lips, his voice trembling, "Help. Please, you must help me. I have eaten everything from my cart. I need food."

"Where is Elara?" Rella asked.

"I don't know who that is, I swear. My cart got stuck in the snow and the horses ran off. Probably frozen to death by now. I came in here for help, but the place was empty."

Rella hadn't seen Elara at all this season, which was normal when the blizzards were as bad as they had been. Her father had been sick for some months, so it was possible Elara feared he wouldn't survive and had taken him elsewhere before the winter. However, the idea that Elara would leave without saying goodbye did not seem right.

She returned her attention to the starving man and thought about taking him home, but the distance was too great, and he would not survive the journey. Rella had only a squirrel and some dried fruits left on her but decided to part with the squirrel for the sake of the man. He needed something substantial, and quickly, so she told him she'd cook.

The man smiled faintly, and then he nodded off.

She lit the fire and placed one of Elara's pans above the flames, then started carving the squirrel. The pieces of meat sizzled as they reached the pan.

She had no trouble pulling the man out of bed; he was just skin and bone. His teeth chattered all the way from the bed to the fireplace. He immediately picked up chunks of meat and threw them into his mouth. He devoured every bit of meat off the bones. He looked at Rella and asked, "Are you not going to eat anything?"

"I'll have these." She held up the rest of her dried fruits. "You need the protein."

The man continued to gulp down everything he could. His haggard look and bloodshot eyes indicated he had been crying, likely from the pain in his stomach. Rella had never witnessed such extreme hunger before. Remembering her adoptive father's words about the healing power of tea, Rella prepared a cup for the man and offered it to him. "Here, drink this," she urged.

The man eagerly grasped the cup and gulped down its still-burning-hot contents. "Thank you so much," he said, setting down the empty mug. "I was mere inches from death's door before you arrived."

Rella smiled at him in response, and he introduced himself, "I'm Kal,"

"I'm Rella," she replied.

"Where are you from, Rella? Do you live alone?"

"From a town on the other side of the forest."

"What brought you out here?"

"Hunting."

The winters here were bad, freezing lakes and rivers solid, covering the forests in a white blanket, and scaring most of the animals into hibernation. She and Alioth were running low, living off rations of dry food, so she had braved the icy winds and deep snow in search of game. Alioth had said the struggle of living in the wilderness would be good for her. He thought struggle was what made people strong.

"I planned on camping in the snow for a night or two, long enough to collect a good supply of food and still have some left over to trade in town. First, though, I was going to spend a night here, at Elara's house."

"Elara's your friend?"

"Yes, she lives here with her father. He was very sick, and she took care of him. I don't know where she'd have gone."

"I hope you find her."

"I had a run-in with a couple of Enforcers on my way here. I thought maybe they had come for Elara," Rella explained to Kal.

Kal shook his head. "No one's been here except me. How did you manage to escape the Enforcers?"

Rella showed him the two knives she kept in her trouser pockets, and that wasn't even all of them. "I can protect myself," she replied. It was true—ever since she was thirteen years old, Alioth had practiced with her every day.

"That's good. You have to be strong to live in these hills." The weakened man sat back in his chair and fell back asleep.