Take My Life

Prologue

Nika’s heart pounded rapidly like machine gun fire as she darted through the plummeting raindrops, narrowly avoiding being swept away by the looming wave of radiant red energy that roared and rushed after her. Beneath the cloudy nighttime sky, Nika burst down the barren street past a bent stop sign, leaping over the swiftly expanding cracks that formed in the pavement ahead of her.

Then the ground shook violently, sending intense vibrations through Nika’s body. It was another earthquake. The world was ending, it seemed.

Nika cried out as she lost her footing, stumbled forward, and fell face-first into the heart of an intersection that was bathed in the flickering orange glow from the damaged and sparking streetlight to her right. Behind her, she heard cracking glass then a loud creaky groan. Nika rolled over and sat up, looking back in time to see the energy slam into a pair of towering apartment buildings.

Then the buildings gave out. They collapsed with a deafening boom, spraying dust, glass, and rubble throughout the vicinity. A lone glass shard spun like a buzzsaw as it flew toward Nika. She saw it and leaned to the right, leaving her wet auburn hair trailing to the left like a windblown flag. The piece of glass closed in on her quickly. It grazed Nika’s jaw, slitting the flesh, leaving a thin line of blood on her cheek. Rushing through her flowing hair, the shard slammed into the ground and shattered.

She touched a leather-gloved hand to her bleeding wound and winced. Then noticing the red energy surging toward her again, Nika scrambled to her feet only to fall heavily on her firm backside when another tremor rattled the road. The energy wave was a leg’s length away, by the time she stood again.

Nika faced down the flowing crimson wall. She fiercely cried out, “Screw you, you bastar—!”

The wave extinguished her life in an instant. She felt nothing. But Nika the Destroyer died knowing one thing: she would live again.

Nika was sure of it, because she knew a secret: Death’s Door had been sealed shut. The path to the afterlife was closed. Her spirit would roam the seven realms until it found a new unborn host.

Death was no longer permanent. Reincarnation was inevitable.

But in Nika’s next life, who would she be?

Chapter One

Royal Arias was irritated.

A year ago, Roy stumbled across Stillwind, a hidden village in Leianai forest. The villagers were peaceful and defenseless, and he was neither. It wasn’t long before he became the guardian of the village.

That was fine with him. Roy loved the excitement. He loved the great feeling that only came from fighting for a good cause.

So Roy fought the few thugs or bandits that randomly appeared, then relaxed until the next threat arrived. The village was well hidden, so there wasn’t much danger. He handled it by himself, no problem.

But ever since those geniuses from Ryska City and Irika City had carved a curving path through the forest from northeast to southwest, the hidden village wasn’t so hidden anymore. Anyone walking the road could openly watch Stillwind like it was a tourist attraction.

Now Roy missed the bandits. Because at least they, like him, weren’t magically adept—unlike the rogue Strikers that kept showing up trying to attack the village.

Strikers, the magic-wielding soldiers of the great cities, were raised from childhood to do nothing but fight and follow orders. So when a Striker went rogue, he or she usually ran wild. And it seemed like they all eventually ran themselves into Stillwind village.

Roy never backed down from them, but things were starting to get ridiculous.

Lying in his bed at the local Inn, just before sunrise, Roy thought about what the heck drew so many psychos to the village. They all were looking for “the key,” and they all grew angry when none of the villagers know where it was.

He stayed like that a while, thinking, staring at the pale ceiling in the dark. Then, whipping the grey sheet off his lean, muscular body, Roy sat up and wiped his blurry blue eyes. Yawning, he stretched out, then winced as a sharp pain knifed through his taped ribs.

Clenching his torso, he hissed, then roared, “What the—!” Rolling to his side, he fell off the bed, crashing side first on the thin beige carpet. Growling in agony, he repeatedly pounded on the floor, screaming, “Crap!”

He had forgotten about that injury. He remembered now.

Roy stayed on the floor, unmoving, trying to avoid aggravating his injury any further. Soon, he heard a fierce rapping on his white door across the room.

“Roy,” a soft, feminine voice called out. He was sure it was Alycia, his best friend and fighting apprentice, since her room was just below his. “Are you okay?”

“No.” His voice was strained.

“Are you hurt?” Alycia asked. “Should I get the doctor?”

He was hurt, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m good. Just hungry.” Then he hesitated a second, wondering if he should say what crossed his mind. Shrugging, he decided to go for it. “Hey, go cook me some bacon, woman! And some eggs!”

Something heavy slammed into the door. Roy was pretty sure he’d find a boot mark on it, if he stepped outside. Alycia kicked things, and people, from time to time. It was his fault, for trying to teach her to fight.

Who knew that a girl with a bad temper would be so violent?

The pitch of her voice shot through the atmosphere. “I’m not your slave! Cook for yourself, you jerk!” Roy heard her march away, stomping and muttering, “And to think I actually tried to give a rats . . .”

Roy sprawled out on his back, his dark blue hair on the carpet, laughing as much as his ribs would allow. He loved messing with her.

He couldn’t help it.

XXX

Roy decided to speak with the village elder, Madeline, about the key that enemies kept asking about. Wearing his black T-shirt and blue jean shorts, he found her in the forest alone, meditating.

Sunlight streamed though the leaves, golden and radiant like her blonde hair. It poured on Madeline like a spotlight. She sat there motionless, cross-legged and breathing steady in her flowery dress. This was her daily ritual, and Roy figured it must have been part of the reason her skin was so smooth and vibrant—despite her being old enough to be his grandmother. Of course, she never exactly told him that, instead feeding him some line about a boy not needing to know a woman’s beauty secrets.

Roy moved past a thick tree, creeping toward her from behind. When he was a step away, he kneeled and leaned close to her, his breath on her neck. He moved his lips to her ear.

Then Roy shouted, “Maddy!”

She shrieked, diving to the side and twisting back toward him. Her eyes were wide with fright for a moment. Then one began to twitch. She sat upright. Roy backed away slowly.

Madeline gritted her teeth. “Royal Arias.”

“Huh?” Roy asked.

“If you ever do that again, I will put a curse on you.” Madeline glared at him with her brown eyes. “A vicious, nasty curse. I know how to do that, you know.” She locked gazes with him. “Curses ruin lives, Roy. Would you like me to ruin your life?”

Roy thought about that a moment. On one hand, she was scary at times. But on the other hand, if Madeline was so powerful, then she wouldn’t have needed him to be the protector of her village. Plus she was too nice to hurt him. He hoped.

Calling her bluff, Roy playfully said, “Fine. Do it then. I’m not scared of you.” When her pupils faded to grey, though, he instantly grew worried. He saw her do that before, but never knew it had anything to do with curses. Armed with that knowledge, Roy held his hands up and blurted out, “I quit, you win. The end.”

Madeline’s face went blank. She didn’t respond. That bothered him. He backed away a little more, until his spine hit the rough tree behind him.

They both remained silent. Only the sound of chirping birds filled the area.

Then Madeline’s eyes shifted back to brown, crinkling and growing cheerful as she smiled in the childish way that always made him return the favor.

“Just kidding,” she said sweetly. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re my little buddy.”

He wondered if whatever kept her looking young, made her act that way sometimes. Because she had some childlike tendencies. It was fine with Roy, since he wasn’t any different, but he wondered how the more mature villagers felt about it. He’d have to ask.

A bug crawled onto Roy’s neck. He swatted it off and danced away from the tree, over fallen leaves. That movement sent a jolt of pain through his taped bruise, making him inhale sharply. But his expression never changed. He was used to hiding his pain.

“So what’s up?” Madeline asked. “You did disturb me for a good reason, right?”

That reminded Roy of why he came in the first place.

“Always,” he said. “I wanna know what’s with that key everyone is talking about. Is it in the village somewhere? Because I don’t think people keep showing up looking for it for no reason.”

She frowned. “We’ve already gone over this. That key isn’t here. I don’t know who’s telling everyone that I have it, but I don’t.”

“Did you ever have it?” he asked.

Madeline didn’t respond. Roy didn’t like that. It was annoying. He was used to it, though. She always reacted that way, when this topic came up. Roy couldn’t make her talk, so he let Madeline sidestep that question for the moment.

He asked, “Then what does the key open?”

“Something,” she said.

Roy asked, “What kind of something?”

“Well,” she started, “it’s one of those things.”

He asked, “What kind of thing?

“The type that does something,” she said, “and all kinds of things happen because of that. Basically, it’s a thing and a something all in one. You know?”

Roy almost screamed.

He didn’t know what she was talking about. Not one bit. He also didn’t know whether she simply wasn’t making any sense, or if he had lost his mind and couldn’t understand anything. All Roy knew, is that he was getting frustrated.

He started pacing. “Then where is it? You’ve gotta at least tell me that much.”

“I have no clue,” she replied. “And I really don’t want to. Colt can figure out that mess.”

Colt? Now Roy had something to work with. Roy had only heard of one person with that name, and he couldn’t stand the guy. If Madeline wouldn’t tell him anything, maybe Roy could choke some info out of Colt—if he could find him.

“You do mean Colt Corsia, right?” Roy wanted to make sure they were talking about the same person. “Short, pale, fits well in a garbage can?”

Madeline shook her head. “Actually, I meant Colt Armada. He was our old guardian, long before you wandered into Stillwind.” She raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, are you ever going to tell me where you were coming from that day? Or where you were headed? Not that we aren’t happy to have you, but don’t you have parents looking for you somewhere? Because if I could have children, I wouldn’t let them disappear for a year—teenager or not.”

In a dry tone, Roy answered her questions in rapid succession. “No, no, my parents don’t care, and you’d make a better mother than mine.” When she sat there, shocked, he switched the subject back. “Anyway, what kind of mess is this guy dealing with? Food in your teeth bad, or end of the world bad?”

Madeline said, “I’d say—”

“Roy!” Alycia screamed, running toward them. “Lady Madeline!” Alycia’s red ponytail smacked the bottom of her white tanktop as she halted before the pair, breathing hard. “There’s some guy in the village!”

Madeline stood quickly.

“Another attack?” Roy asked.

Alycia said, “Not yet, but maybe soon. He’s looking for the key.”

Roy sighed. “Crap.”

Then he dashed off.

XXX

Roy’s vision tunneled as he rocketed through Stillwind down a narrow dirt road. His gaze locked onto a crowd gathered just ahead, at the grassy field in the heart of the village.

Closing in on them, Roy saw a few villagers pointing toward him. Some cheered. None of that mattered to him, though. Not now.

A youngish man leaned against one of the small shops flanking the field. His hair was white.

That wasn’t good. Roy knew what that meant. Everyone born outside Stillwind had heard.

As Roy’s boots pounded the grass, part of him wanted to stop, turn around, and go home. Not to the Inn, but far north to his old house—his parent’s residence—where he could hide under the bed and let his father fight for him. But Roy had done enough of that in the past.

Never again, he thought. Never again.

Putting fingers to his lips, Roy whistled loudly, getting attention of the villagers. By the time he stopped ahead of them, all eyes were on him. He flung his hand skyward, signaling them, then he swirled it around. Turning back, Roy thrust his finger in the direction he came from. He needed them to leave the area, just in case he had to fight.

Like the trained army he wished they were, the villagers instantly followed his command, jogging toward the road behind him. Roy outstretched his arms. Everyone who passed him slapped his hands, showing their support. Those out of reach, nodded and offered words of encouragement as they passed by. He doubted that they knew just how much that meant to him, especially then.

Roy closed his eyes, listening to their heavy footsteps muffled by the swirling wind. Every step was like a heartbeat, each one coming from a person who believed in him. A person who depended on him. A person who trusted him with their life. Regardless of who the enemy was, he would never back down and never let them down.

Soon, all was silent. They were gone.

Roy opened his eyes. He found that man standing in the middle of the field, arms folded, his long white coat motionless despite the slight gust. The man stared Roy down, not blinking once.

Roy felt uneasy again. With that white hair, there was no doubt. That man had to be one of them. A member of the most gifted and merciless warrior family on the continent.

“I assume you’re the leader of this place,” the man said.

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Close enough. Who the heck are you, anyway?”

“Andreas Moon,” he said.

He really was one of them. This was bad. Roy had to handle the situation without violence, if at all possible. He would fight if it came to it, but he hoped it didn’t.

Roy asked, “You here for a reason?”

“I’m searching for a key,” Andreas said. “A unique one. I was told I would find it here.” In a chilling tone, he asked, “Will I?”

“Who told you that?” Roy asked. Someone was sending people to Stillwind, and he wanted to know who it was.

“A psychic,” Andreas said. “One who has never misled me.”

Roy said, “Give me a name and maybe we can work something out.”

“I don’t make deals.” Andreas inched toward him. “Either you give me the key, or I will annihilate you and everyone here.” Then he paused. “No, I won’t do that. I’ll only destroy you. As for your comrades, I’ll simply have my people capture and sell them.” Smirking, he said, “You have quite a few women that would make excellent whores, I’m sure. And the men would make fine servants. And those children—”

“Shut up!” Roy clenched his fists.

Andreas chuckled softly. “Or what? You’ll fight me? Even with that injury of yours?”

Roy’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe it. He intentionally wore a dark shirt, to hide the white medical tape covering his upper body. He made sure his movements were normal, so his pain didn’t show. How did Andreas know?

“Don’t look so surprised,” Andreas said. “Whether you know it or not, you’re favoring your left side, just below the heart. Not much, but more than enough for me to know that you weren’t skilled enough to defend yourself properly when healthy—and you’re far from healthy now.”

Roy didn’t like where this was going. He felt exposed. He wanted to disagree with Andreas, but he couldn’t. Roy knew he was never as talented as most, ever since he failed the Striker Academy’s final exam seven times in a row. He had worked hard over the years, making himself strong. But not strong enough, it seemed. Nothing compared to his father. And most likely, even less compared to Andreas.

Andreas said, “Give me the key.”

“It’s not here,” Roy insisted. “I don’t know where it is.”

“Yet, you were going to ‘work something out’ with me a moment ago, correct?” Andreas asked. “If I had agreed at that point, how could you have held up your end of the bargain unless you have the key?”

Roy shifted uncomfortably. “I . . .”

“Either you were lying then,” Andreas said, “or you’re lying now. You’re a liar regardless. Your word cannot be trusted. And so, I’m going to work under the assumption that you do have the key.” He reached out toward Roy. “Give it to me now, or prepare to defend yourself. Choose.”

“I told you I don’t have it,” Roy said.

Andreas nodded. “Then I’ll do what I must.”

Roy was glad that, if nothing else, everyone else was safe. Madeline and Alycia were in the forest, and the villagers who weren’t indoors should have met up with them by now. Unless something happened to them. Roy shook that idea off. Nothing ever happened to them. They knew the forest well.

The only way the villagers would be in danger, is if someone else was working with Andreas. He seemed to be alone, so that wasn’t an issue.

Then thoughts rushed into Roy’s mind. He threatened to capture everybody. No, to have his people do it! But where are the people? Was he bluffing? Or are they hiding?

Unsure, Roy asked, “You came alone, didn’t you?” Andreas said nothing. They paused a moment. Growing tense, Roy asked, “You did, right?” Roy received no response. “Right?” Andreas started laughing. Roy frantically said, “Tell me you were alone. Tell me!”

Eyeing Roy, Andreas circled him slowly. “I don’t know who you’re used to dealing with, but forget them for a moment.” He stopped walking, his back to the dirt road. “Now think hard. Do I seem foolish enough to come by myself?”

A piercing feminine screech ripped through the air, followed by the sound of rapid fluttering. Looking beyond Andreas, Roy spotted a flock of birds suddenly ascending from the trees on the horizon. Something had stirred them, right where the villagers were supposed to hide.

Roy darted forward, rushing to rescue his people. Sidestepping in a blur, Andreas blocked him. They were face to face, in striking distance.

“Get out of my way!” Roy was shaking now, with more rage than fear. “Move or I swear I’ll take you down!”

“Now, now,” Andreas taunted. “We’re not done here yet. Not even close.”

Roy had no choice but to fight, and he no longer cared. He was pissed off. He needed something to hit, and Andreas would work just fine.

There was nothing more to say. Both shifted into their battle stances.

It was on.

Author’s Note:

I feel like I should write something here, with this being my return to the site and all. All I can say is, thanks for taking the time to read this. And I hope you review, because I’m not quite sure how I did here. I was always a terrible judge of my own writing, and it’s even worse since I haven’t written anything in third person in about half a year (I’m mastering first person).

In short, I could use some help. And I’m more than willing to return the favor. I might not review you instantly, because I don’t have a ton of time anymore, but I’ll definitely review you back if you want.

Thanks for the support, everyone. I wish you the best of luck in writing and in life.