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  Copyright © 2021 Marcus Sloss.

  All rights reserved. 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 publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ASIN: B07YFWHDZX

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  Prologue

  Duke Riza

  Karissin Valley

  “I don’t want his blasted daughters, I want his bloody sons and their horses!” Duke Riza shouted at the envoy.

  The poor squire trembled in fright, and he knew he yelled at an innocent lad, not the man who sent him. Duke Riza was furious, and for good reason. The horde continued to march across Vin inflicting incredible damage.

  He marched north toward Livinia at the King’s request. All the while the northern lords fled south. No one had the backbone to turn and fight the green-skins. They should have, oh, by the gods they should have.

  The lad wore the liverly of Duke Nimba, the owner of this land that his army camped on. A fact that Riza hated. Even worse, the Duke wasn’t defending his land. The coward gave up his titles to his brother, Count Criton.

  Duke Riza had sent Count Criton an edict from the King to slow all invaders as the south mustered. Count Criton offered daughters for marriage if he understood what this squire was saying.

  “My Lord, just so we are clear, you wish for me to send away the Shield Maidens and tell the Count you want to marry someone else?” the lad asked hesitantly.

  “Shield Maidens, not maidens?” Duke Riza asked.

  “A griffin rider to boot,” the squire said with a smirk.

  The confident swagger faltered when Duke Riza burst from his chair and stormed by the young man. His war tent emitted steam from the warm fire when he pushed the flap back.

  The second he stood outside he inhaled the dry frigid air with glee. Before him, stretching for miles, the Lakeland army rested in their tents. Fires dotted the area, trees toppled on the outskirts, and knights trotted their mounts around the perimeter.

  His tent rested in the middle, and nearby, a flight of griffins waited around a hundred women.

  Duke Riza felt the cold gnawing at his nub. He lost a hand to a chieftain duel. The orc paid with his life, but the damn war wound continued to pester him.

  He ignored the sensation, focusing on the griffins. He knew better than to get too close, the fantastical beasts hated men. He stopped short of the eight birds and waved to a tall woman who addressed camp followers on how to care for the big beasts.

  Their unique patterns created a myriad of color combos. Each feather had a color, with a corresponding tip color. The biggest of the group held orange feathers and yellow tips. The male stared at Duke Riza and he stared back.

  Their long tails, big wings, and impressive beaks always awed him. He also knew they did what that bastard Duke Nimba refused to do - fight. The griffins were a bane to the Horde and its conquest of Vin.

  He wished for a million of the stout creatures to unleash on the unending tide of orcs, ogres, trolls, and goblins. He also was keen to accept eight of the glorious creatures into his army.

  The tall woman finished deliberating with the camp follower, striding toward him with her long legs. She actually smiled down at Duke Riza, and he felt elated.

  “Welcome to the Lakeland army, my Lady. You are most welcomed indeed,” Duke Riza said. “I am Duke Riza.”

  “Lady Ona. My brother, Count Criton, begrudgingly sent aid to your army. I told him I was tired of waiting behind walls while men fought to stem the advancing tide. He said you were doomed,” Lady Ona said, removing a glove before extending her hand.

  He kissed the rough backside, noting the calloused hand was worn with training. The blonde haired, blue eyed beauty truly was a treasure, almost as much as the griffins behind her.

  “And in what capacity can I expect your aid toward my efforts?” he asked.

  “A detachment that I determine when it is at an end. Seeing as how the region would fall, we may seek homage within your walls, or die at your side. As for our efforts, the enemy wyverns are present, but fearful. We can scout and help guide the hand of humanity as it lays into the overextended enemy. I’ve flown over your past battlefields, you truly understand warfare,” Lady Ona said with a smirk.

  Duke Riza smiled. “Come, let us escape the cold and enjoy some wine. A Lady such as yourself deserves no less. We will plot and plan with a modicum of civility.”

  “You had me at plotting. Something most men lack is the ability to grow a spine,” Lady Ona said.

  “Or a hand,” Duke Riza said, showing off his stub.

  Lady Ona loved this jest, bursting into a laughter fit for the ages. It became clear that she was not sent as an emissary to save a duke or count’s way of life. This woman came to fight, which was a nice reprieve.

  Since the invasion, he had acquired three wives forced onto him.

  They all arrived with their fathers begging to maintain status in the south. Lady Ona was different. She wasn’t a woman stuck on a platter. She was a fierce warrior and a griffin rider. Times were about to get interesting.

  ∞∞∞

  “I don’t give a shit!” Duke Riza bellowed. “Sound the camp followers to charge. We either break the right flank now, or we all die later trying to cross the mountains with an enemy hot on our heels.”

  The trumpet belted out a tremendous call, barely reaching over the cacophony of battle. Men shouted, orcs roared, blades clashed, and horses neighed as the fighting intensified.

  Everything had gone to shit in the blink of an eye. He faced a cyclops general with the ability to think, causing him to get bogged down in what was supposed to be a quick slaughter of ogres moving supplies.

  After four months of having eyes in the sky, he piled the dead on the battlefield over and over. The sad reality was, as he won the battles, he lost the war. The human armies gave up ground, being forced south.

  The only good thing was that the fighting had started to wear on the enemy. He found less and less targets as the northern territories fell.

  If Duke Riza had to guess, he predicted the north was lost. As in, all of the north. Even Count Criton surrendered his fortification to a compromising cyclops general.

  Lady Ona took the news hard, throwing herself and her griffins into the fight harder than ever. In this case, he ambushed a supply caravan escorting siege engines.

  The gall of the audacious enemy left him perplexed. The juicy target proved too good to be true.

  Such thoughts were ripped from his mind when his eldest squire fell to an ogre. The young man and his steed tried to dodge a swift club strike and failed, being sent flying into the pressed bodies.

  Duke Riza saw his opening, readying his buckler that covered his forearm.

  The man charged against the towering beast who stood three times his height. He weaved between pikemen who jabbed at the snarling ogre.

  Right as the club swung back to send his men flying, Duke Riza lunged up, his heavy sword slicing across ogre’s tendons above the rest.

  The thick blade’s honed edge parted skin, flesh, and scarred bone. The ogre roared out in pain, dragging the injured arm to its chest.

  “Argggg!” the beast cried out.

  A long string of Horde belted out of its mouth. Likely complimenting Duke Riza on his fine cut and telling him his mother was a swell lady.

  Of course, Duke Riza pres
sed the attack, ramming a blade into a calf before yanking out the back of the leg.

  He spun, dodged the hefty ogre who teetered down with a resounding thud.

  When the ogre rolled on the mountainous terrain, he leaped onto the chest, readying the killing blow to pierce the heart.

  The dastardly being bucked its grotesque belly, sending him flying for the head. Duke Riza did the logical thing, adjusting to drive his blade into the eye of the beast.

  Something had to give, because the ogre counter adjusted, opening its disgusting mouth in an attempt to kill him with a bite.

  Duke Riza ensured his blade stayed true. Knowing the shield might hold the teeth at bay, taking the risk, he shoved his buckler into the mouth.

  Snap!

  The teeth clamped shut.

  Pop!

  The tip of his sword burst the eye.

  Squish!

  His hand sunk into eyeball fluid until his sword hit the back of the ogre’s skull.

  Duke Riza panted in exertion, a wide smirk crossing his face at his victory. Not many men felled an ogre in single combat.

  His foe let out a final breath and died.

  When he tried to use his left arm for leverage to pry out his blade, it slid across slimy lips. He glanced down, seeing his shield was gone, as was most of his arm.

  “Well shit,” Duke Riza said with a grunt.

  He stared down at a nub below the elbow. His missing hand became his missing forearm. His shield saved his life and the ogre’s compromise cost it its life.

  A loud cheer erupted from the right flank. A sudden arrival of additional griffins came to break the deadlock. A mighty blare of a warhorn sounded a retreat and the Horde’s shield lines buckled.

  Duke Riza knew he was lucky to escape with his army from this fight. The griffins had saved the day. Lady Ona landed nearby, seeing he was injured.

  She raced off her mighty griffin and arrived to help him slide off the dead ogre. She removed the wrap that held down her bust, using it to staunch the bleeding.

  “You’re a treasure,” he said with a cough. “I’ll save the memento as a keepsake.”

  “Incorrigible. You may need to return to Lakeland after this victory, my Lord. You’ll catch a fever no matter what and the enemy is only granting a reprieve. Reinforcements in the thousands quickly march this way,” she said in a stern tone.

  He nodded, letting her tie off the wrap over his missing forearm. “I need to get this cleaned and sutured,” he said, wincing from the pain. “Tell me there is good news?”

  “The south is finally mobilizing. I hope we can hold them at the mountain range but we have to cede this region,” Lady Ona said.

  He grunted and replied, “I… I tried.”

  “You did fantastic, my sweet man,” Lady Ona said, applying a kiss to his lips. The two of them had grown quite intimate after their battles. When he lengthened the kiss, she giggled, “You're in no shape.”

  “I never surrender. One day the same portal that sent the horrific invasion to Vin will spew out a hero. That day cannot come soon enough,” Duke Riza said in a grim tone.

  He held onto hope that a savior would arrive to beat back the endless onslaught.

  CHAPTER 1

  It all started when Daniel Smarts came to practice eating a chocolate bar.

  “Hey Dan, you know that is not allowed. Why would you bring it to practice and eat it in front of everyone here who is on strict diets?” I asked. It was only after the words were out that I noticed he had red eyes and tears coming down his face.

  “Fuck you Red! You bullying homophobic bigot!” Dan screamed at me as he stormed out of the building. An eerie silence fell among the dozen of us training for the 2779 Olympic qualifiers.

  For most of us, this had been what our entire adolescence lives had been devoted to. Going to Alpha Prime to compete in the Olympic events. Millions of people across colonized human space were pushing their limits to win entry for this year. For Daniel, me, and all the others on planet Swan the training was rigorous and extremely demanding. Which obviously had gotten to Dan. Or maybe it was a relationship thing.

  “Someone should go check on him,” I said to the others who had paused their routine practice during his outburst. Of course, no one did, that would mean missing vital training time. I shrugged it off and went back to my rings to focus on what mattered most to me. Being the best.

  ∞∞∞

  Three days later I was summoned to a meeting with the president of the Swan Olympic Committee. I was curious as to what was going on when I took my seat across from the normally jolly Olympic boss.

  “Gryff Redland, I have unfortunate news...” he paused for a moment. Lenard Mcduff was a former shot put competitor that never quite made it to the big stage. The best way to describe him was calm, friendly, and easy to be around. I could tell he was struggling with what he needed to tell me which made me nervous. “I guess there is no easy way to say this. Daniel Smarts hung himself in the woods. He was discovered today with this note in his pocket.”

  Lenard slid a paper across the desk. I reached for it and began reading.

  “No... Unreal... Well space monkeys, what does this mean for me?” I asked. The note was a confession from Daniel. His boyfriend had dumped him. That part was fine. The real issue was what he had said about me. I was his tormentor bully. Never approving of his gay lifestyle, always one upping him in practice, and never being understanding of his issues. Some of that was true, well most of it was beside me disapproving of his love choices. I never commented on that ever. I did decline a few after practice hangouts after the first time because he made me feel uncomfortable. All this was insane. I was painted the villain for sure.

  “The committee voted unanimously this morning. You are off the planetary Olympic team as of right now. I am sorry. There is no win for you or us here. If you medal or even do well the news will drag it up about how you are a bully and anti-LGBTQ. Which for us is losing. Optics matter, and to be fair, the last recording we have of Daniel is you telling him what he shouldn't eat. I wish you the best of luck in the future Gryff. You are young, in your prime, and have a full life ahead of you. Just not with us or the Swan Olympic team. Best of luck,” he stood and stuck a hand out.

  I promptly slammed the copied note onto his desk, left his hand empty and vacated the room.

  ∞∞∞

  Being eighteen I was on summer break before college. The college sent me a certified facial scan digimail. The one that canceled my scholarship due to recent events. Apparently not only had Daniel ruined my athletic career but he was haunting me with school too.

  To say I was down on my luck and feeling shitty was an understatement. My entire life had been upended and changed. I didn't know what to do with myself. My parents were gone. Dad died when I was young from an accident while mining an asteroid. Mom died a few years later from a drug overdose. I had bounced foster homes until I lived in the Olympic billeting. They ejected me five days ago and now I was in a cheap motel looking for work and low on coins.

  An ad hit my Digibox on my wrist display.

  “Do you have what it takes?! Do you want riches and glory?! Compete in the Ten K death race. Ten thousand enter nine thousand leave, top prize is three billion Prime coins.” Cut scenes of thousands of people snowboarding, biking, running, swimming, and climbing sprawled across my display with vibrant text. I stared at the ad dumbly as the gears turned in my brain.

  Why not? I was an insanely fit athlete in peak health. My incredible agility paired with amazing hand, body, and eye coordination would excel in a challenging fitness race. Got nowhere to go, nothing to lose. Down on my luck. What could go worse? No way would I finish in the bottom ten percent!

  I hit accept on the prompt not knowing what would come next but damn it I was in. The Ten K race was a big event, once every ten years. No one knew who hosted it, where it was hosted or how. Yet it was insanely popular. Even I had watched the pa
st three races and would certainly be watching them again.

  Ping. My wrist display notified me of a personal encrypted message.

  --Spaceport Feather... Tomorrow at noon... Follow the Prompts... Tell no one else, we will know if you do...--

  ∞∞∞

  I did exactly what it told me to. I went to the local spaceport, then was guided into a private spaceship. After leaving orbit a gas hissed out of the walls and I fell asleep.

  ∞∞∞

  I awoke on the freezing ground covered in a light snow. On my home planet Swan, it never snowed so it was a new experience that was bitterly cold and frustrating.

  Where was I? What had happened?

  Looking around I noticed I was not alone. All around me ten thousand people were waking on the frozen tundra. Most were as disoriented as I was, others yelled for people they knew. It dawned on me then that it was possible people had talked with others to join as a team before hitting the accept button. Some small groups formed but for the most part, it was thousands of individuals on the ice.

  A bell tinkled and then a voice boomed.

  “Welcome to the fourth Ten K death race!!! This year we have something special planned for the beginning leg. Ice themed running with jumping between drifting glaciers. Watch as those who finish first crush their competition. After this is the sand dunes of blistering heat. The early finishers from this event get a head start on the next leg. The top nine thousand to finish the race get to live... Assuming that many survive to the end. Place your bets now! Make sure you buy a ticket to watch each leg! Enjoy the show!!!” Fireworks went off as the announcer finished.

  On the outsides of the ice shelf, green arrows became visible as the fireworks spelled go. It was clear which way we need to go. As I looked around I saw another young man about my age give me a dirty glance. I thought I recognized him but knew the odds were slim to none that I would actually know him.