Free Crystal Throne (Book 1) by D.W. Jackson Page B

stomach churn as he watched the grizzly scene. It was not the first time that he had seen a death, but nothing like what was happening in front of him. In an instant, Thad watched as his son jumped through the door, his sword raised for a strike at the scion. Thad tried to scream for Bren to stop as visions of the boy’s death flashed through his mind, but all he could manage was a slight whisper of a scream.
    Everything seemed to happen slowly as Bren’s sword seemed to flow toward the scion’s chest. Thad expected the blade to bounce of the crystal, creating only a small chip, if any damage at all, but the blade dug deep, cutting through the scion as if he were cleaving flesh instead of stone.
    As the scion fell to the ground and shattered into half a dozen pieces, Thad moved to the creature lying on the ground as it clawed to get into a position to strike at him. Before Bren’s sword could strike, Humanius yelled for the Bren to stay his hand. Without asking why, Bren lowered his weapon and moved away from the pitiful creature lying before him.
    Thad started to ask his friend why he had spared the murderous beast, but he never got the chance. Humanius moved toward the scion and using one hand, struck the creature on the shoulder and knee breaking the limbs as if he was shattering shale with a sledgehammer.
    A moment of anger flashed through Thad. If Humanius could destroy the scions so easily, then why had he let the Godlings die while he watched; while he did nothing? The anger quickly dissipated, though the question remained in the back of his mind.
    “Speak,” Humanius demanded of the scion.
    Thad thought that his friend had lost his mind. If these creatures had the ability or desire to speak, they would have done so long before now.
    “Young master, I did not think that it would be you that we found among the invaders. In truth, we all thought you long dead,” the scion said. Its voice was light and musical as if the words were sung from a flute.
    “Roger,” Humanius said as he backed away from the scion.
    “Roger,” the scion said as if tasting the name on its own lips. “I believe that was what I was called, though it was so long ago I am not sure; even my memories of you are muddled along with many others, most of those not my own.”
    “What happened here?” Belaroan said stepping forward and looking down on what was left of the scion.
    “Happened?” The scion asked, as if it didn’t understand what Belaroan was asking.
    “Yes, what happened here? You know to our world, to you. When did the gateway fall?” Belaroan asked her face turning a light shade of red, though even without looking at her, the anger was clear in her voice.
    “I don’t know,” the scion said. “Time passes, and all I know is what the voices tell me.”
    “Voices?” Humanius asked.
    “Yes, the voices of the one,” the scion replied, his face almost showing pain. “It is always there, though most of the time it is quiet like a light breeze blowing past your ear, but lately it has been like a mighty torrent… It has been demanding.”
    “What has it been demanding?” Humanius asked, as he looked to the others.
    “You,” the scion replied. “It wants those that cannot hear its voice. Those of us left… those chosen to hear its call have been called to find you.”
    “Just how did you find us?” Belaroan asked as she clenched and unclenched her fist.
    “We followed her voice,” the scion replied. “It was hard to understand, but as we got closer, the easier it was for it to guide us.”
    “Thank you Roger,” Humanius said and he raised his foot above the creatures head. “Now rest.”
    As Humanius said the last words, his foot shoot down and the scion’s head shattered like a vase dropped from a high ledge. “It sounds as if we won’t have an easy time of it, not with scions tracking us. I would suggest that we not waste any time and head straight to our destination.”
    Without another word, everyone