Against the Beast (Terraunum Origins, #1)
Against The Beast
A Terraunum Origins Novella
R.J. Batla
Table of Contents
Title Page
Against the Beast (Terraunum Origins, #1)
Dedication
Other books by R.J. Batla
Map of Terraunum
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Did you enjoy AGAINST THE BEAST?
Other Books by R.J. Batla
Preview of Fire Eyes Awakened
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
About R.J. Batla
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, R.J. Batla, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
AGAINST THE BEAST: A Terraunum Origins Novella
Copyright © 2016 by R.J. Batla
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Cover design and Illustration by:
Damjan Gjorgievski
Editor:
Melissa Jackson good-girl-editing
Dedication
Other books by R.J. Batla
Map of Terraunum
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Did you enjoy AGAINST THE BEAST?
Other Books by R.J. Batla
Preview of Fire Eyes Awakened
Fire Eyes Awakened – Chapter 1
Fire Eyes Awakened - Chapter 2
Fire Eyes Awakened - Chapter 3
About R.J. Batla
Dedication
Thanks to God, my wife and kids, my family, and all those who have encouraged me along the way.
And to you the reader, thank you!
This is just the beginning...
Other books by R.J. Batla
FIRE EYES AWAKENED: The Senturians of Terraunum Book 1
Get me the book!
Smalltown hero gets his new powers and they almost kill him for it. Then they ask him to save them all. Figures. Can Jayton survive the journey?
The first in the Senturians of Terraunum Series, FIRE EYES AWAKENED combines epic fantasy with fantastic powers. Join the action and adventure!
TEMPUS: THE TERRAUNUM Origins Series Book 2
Get me the book!
A vanishing ship and an invisible adversary lurking below the surface sends new captain Celeste Dumas and the crew of the Ajax into uncharted waters fraught with danger as they uncover a much more sinister plot.
Pirates, action, and amazing powers combine in the second novel in the Terraunum Origins Series, chronicling characters from Fire Eyes Awakened.
Against The Beast
A Terraunum Origins Novella
Map of Terraunum
Chapter 1
“Private Crowell, get over here!”
Royn Crowell dropped his shovel, abandoning the latrine he’d just been digging, and hustled to stand at attention in front of Captain Crane. Great, what can he have me do now? Snapping to attention, he said, “Sir, yes, sir!”
The husky captain put his hands behind his back and paced in front of him. “Crowell, my company had been here for six months before you showed up. We didn’t ask for any Ranger help, yet here you are.”
“Sir, I was assigned this post. I didn’t—”
Captain Crane scowled. “Nonetheless, private, you’re here trying to help us when we don’t need it. We have Senturians here with all of the Six Powers. I don’t need some snot-nosed Ranger who thinks he’s better than the rest of us gumming up my carefully run company. Tell me again what your special abilities are that qualified you to be here?”
Here we go again. “Sir, my Quantum Powers are Mindspeak and Teleportation. I’m also an accomplished Air user.”
Captain Crane stopped his pacing and stared at Royn. “And when did you finish your Ranger training? How many assignments have you had?”
Royn barely kept from sighing and rolling his eyes, “Two months ago. This is my first assignment.”
The captain grunted, “Exactly. Green. Untested. But since you’re here, I may as well put you to doing something other than digging privy holes.”
Holy cow, am I going to get to do some actual Ranger work instead of manual labor?
He started pacing again, “Private, the locals are restless. They don’t like us, but they do like the goods we have, and we need the food they grow. Recently, when they’ve come Fort Highway to trade, we’ve heard talk that people are dying. As stupid as I think this outreach mission is, we’re supposed to help the people here on the West Side of the Breaks. I’m not wasting the valuable time of my men, so this falls to you. Seems like a good job for a half breed anyway.” Royn let the insult slide.
“They say something evil is lurking in the forest southwest of here, toward the Shadow Mountains. I want you to go root it out.” He stopped nose to nose, his rotten breath almost gagging Royn. The captain grinned maniacally with yellow stained teeth and two-day-old stubble, “And I want you to do it now, private.”
“Sir, yes, sir! Who will be going with me, sir?”
“Why, no one, private!”
“But, sir, Rangers usually work in pairs—”
“Did I stutter?” he said, the grin dropping and his familiar scowl coming back as he turned to leave. “And don’t come back until you’ve figured out what’s got them stirred up, rambling on about death and devils walking around. Now get going, soldier!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Royn said, about-facing and running to the supply shed, snatching up his sword as he went and strapping it to his hip. He grabbed as much gear as he could, putting some in his pack and others on his belt pouches: rations, water jugs, spare knives, first aid kits—anything needed to survive in the wilds around Fort Highway for the foreseeable future.
Pack loaded down, he draped a cloak around his shoulders as he stepped through the wooden gate in the stone wall and walked the thirty feet to where the trail entered the Wald Forest. Eyeing the mangled trees, he had no idea how anything lived there. But beneath those bent, dark trunks there was abundant life, well adapted to defending itself. If it didn’t bite, sting, or prick you, it
didn’t live there.
Here you go, Royn. Your first real Ranger mission. I don’t know if the captain just wants me out of Fort Highway or if he wants to get me killed, but this is my mission. This is what I trained for.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped in.
Instantly, Royn was in his element. Sucking in the mustiness, the damp air put a spring in his step. Angling toward the Shadow Mountains to the west, he caught glimpses of the snowcapped peaks in the many breaks in the treetops, the beauty of the majestic mountains diminishing some of the creepiness of the Wald Forest. Eyes seeing everything and nothing, scanning for danger and signs of...whatever he was looking for, Royn moved stealthily, making almost no sound.
Ranger training had been hard. Brutal, in fact, but it prepared him. Honed him like a knife, where he was one with the forest, moving from shadow to shadow, searching, barely a creature aware of his presence.
“Your job is to be a ghost,” his trainer always said. “Get in, get the job done, get out.”
Speaking of the job—the captain didn’t say where he needed to go, or gave him much direction at all, so he moved with caution and speed, always angling southwest toward those mountains. They’d set up Fort Highway on the north edge of the Wald Forest where it first intersects the Wasser River, so it was at least a day’s travel to the base of the Shadow Mountains. Numerous villages dotted the area—any one of which could be where the rumors started—though none were friendly to Easterners. Especially a Ranger.
After two hours weaving through the trees and picking his way between the thorns and stickers, he’d found nothing. Then the smell hit him.
Chapter 2
Royn bounced into a jog that ate up ground while being quiet at the same time. The stench of rotting flesh and scorched timber grew stronger as he ran until it was almost unbearable, so he slowed to a creep, drawing his sword. A clearing in the brush ahead brought the Ranger to a stop. Odds were whoever did this was gone, but there was no sense in walking into a trap. Easing to where he could see through the trees, Royn almost lost his lunch.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere, in various stages of what could only be described as being eaten. The entire village lay wasted before him—buildings decimated, everything smashed, hundreds of dead left for the vultures. What would do this? Easing out from the protective cover of the trees, Royn inched toward the first corpse—a young female. Or what was left of her. Skin and flesh were ripped off the bone by jagged teeth, judging from the wound. Several chunks of flesh were missing from all over her body. Whatever did it wasn’t particular on where it took flesh.
This could have been Royn’s friend. His family. If this were the East Side...
Trying to shake off the image, Royn worked his way through the entire village, coughing and gagging on the stench. Assessing the extent of the damage and decomposition, he calculated the time frame: three days. This happened three days ago.
On top of a pile of ruined wood—what once was a building—a white object stood out against the brown. He bent down to pick it up. It was some sort of bone, but it didn’t belong to any human. It looked like...
His face went pale. “Mother of God.” Royn pulled out his badge, sending a tiny bit of energy into it to activate the com link. “Captain, I’ve found something big. Coming in to report.” Then in a flash of blue light, he teleported.
A moment of bright light—along with the sensation of being pressed on all sides—and Royn appeared out of thin air in another blaze of blue, back at the Ranger base. Huh, I meant to appear in front of the command tent, not the privies. Need to work on that.
“Crowell!”
Oh no.
The captain stormed toward him pointing his finger, a couple of the lesser ranked Senturians trailing behind him. “Crowell, what did I tell you when you left, soldier? I said don’t come back until you’ve figured this out. You’ve barely been gone a few hours!”
Everyone around stopped what they were doing and made their way over to them. They must have heard the communication. Or they want to see me get humiliated.
Royn snapped into a salute. “Sir, but I found something, sir.” He held out his hand. “I found this bone—”
Captain Crane walked up, leaned over and examined the bone for a full second before he launched into a tirade and slapped Royn’s hand, the fragment skidding to a halt right in front of the crowd of onlookers.
They all backed up.
“Do you see that?” one whispered.
“Is that a...”
“Son of a...”
“That’s a Skeptor bone!”
Everyone around jumped, flinched, or frantically looked around, as if the mention of the name might bring fire down upon them.
“What is the commotion?” Captain Crane said, turning to see the stunned crowd shying away from a dried up bone. “Did they stick me out here with a bunch of pantywaists?”
Stomping over, he snatched up the bone, slicing his finger in the process. He waved it at the crowd. “You’re scared of this? You call yourselves Senturians? Why, this is just a nice decoration! Maybe a rib bone from a wild boar. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll keep it.” Pulling out a leather strap, he tied it around his neck, red blood staining the perfect white of the bone fragment.
One of the soldiers braved, “Sir, I wouldn’t do that! They say if your blood touches the bone of a Skeptor, its owner will hunt you down and take it back!”
“Nonsense,” Captain Crane said, “those stories are nothing but make-believe meant to keep little kids from wandering around at night. Now all of you get back to work.” The others started meandering back to whatever task they’d been doing. “Ain’t no company of mine gonna be caught believing in any ghost stories. What are you still doing here, Crowell? This isn’t proof, and you still have a job to do.”
Maybe not proof enough for you, but it’s proof enough for me. “Sir, what about the people in all the other villages around here? Shouldn’t they be warned? I mean, Skeptors are—”
The captain was on Royn so fast he’d barely had time to register the movement. Grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him close—spit splattering Royn’s face every word—he said, “Now you listen here, private! You come back and cause all this trouble and commotion in my camp with your frilly powers and ridiculous notion of Skeptors on the prowl, and I ain't gonna have it. You get back out there and find some real proof or the source of all this.”
He shoved Royn hard, sending him back a few steps. “Do what you want about these people. They’re worthless anyway. I don’t even know why the Senturian Corps commanders sent us over here. Waste of good resources trying to build a relationship neither side wants. What a waste.”
Royn mentally steadied himself – he’d decided he couldn’t let this go. “Sir, I’ll figure this out. And I think it’s only right to alert the villages. We have the resources, so I’m going to do it.”
Captain Crane shook his head and said, “Fine, private, but know this. You are on your own. You embarrassed me in front of the entire company. No one will back you up. No one will be sent to look for you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now get outta my sight.”
“Sir,” Royn said, saluted, turned and hurried back to the gear shed. If he was going to do this, he needed more supplies. Damnit. The captain didn’t deserve the salute from Royn. He had to respect the position; that was without question. But the man...Royn reviled the way he was treated, and the complete lack of respect for the people here! Why would the generals send such a man to build relationships?
He shook his head to clear it. Can’t be helped. Right now I’ve got to find this creature. I have the means to fix it, which means I have the responsibility to do so. To do otherwise wouldn’t be right. Zipping and shouldering his bag, he stepped out of the shed and into the forest as the sun slipped below the horizon, sending the world into darkness.
Fearing the varied nighttime dangers of the Wald Forest, Royn shimmied up an oak tree, f
ound a flat spot to lie down, and ate a cold dinner. Settling in, he remembered his parents back on the East Side. Human father and Aeren mother. He smiled. For a long time he thought everyone’s mom had green skin and a tornado tattoo between their eyes. Royn hoped he was doing them proud, acting how they raised him to. Doing what was right.
Some people didn’t like people like Royn, with parents from two different races. Half breeds. Royn sighed. He didn’t care; people fear what they don’t understand. And his parents were amazing.
A slight smile on his lips, Royn said a quick prayer and fell asleep. Every so often the sounds of something dying—something eating—would rouse him from slumber, and he would pop up, sword halfway drawn, air swirling in his left hand, ready for a fight. But each time it was nothing—at least nothing coming for him.
He was up with the first rays of the sun, the dew moistening his clothes as he ghosted through the forest, looking for signs of the monster. Several times he found odd tracks, or branches broken in ways they shouldn’t have been. At noon he found the first skeleton—set back in a bush—clean of all flesh. Soon after he found the first body hung in a tree.
The next few hours he found more and more of the dead hung in various places, stuffed under logs, and wedged between rocks, flies buzzing all around them like miniature vultures feasting on the rotting flesh. Each carcass had puncture marks and large chunks of missing tissue. Whatever was doing this liked killing. Please don’t be a Skeptor! Anything but a Skeptor!
“Help!” croaked a voice from behind a bush, causing Royn to jump out of his skin and send a wave of air defensively where the sound came from, blowing back the trees. “Someone, please help!” the voice pleaded, barely more than a whisper.
Flicking his wrist, Royn sent another blast of air, this time clearing the leaves enough for him to find legs sticking out from under a bush. Bloody legs. Racing over, Royn pulled the man out, grabbed the medical kit out of his pack, and started dressing wounds.