The Book of Deacon, Tome 2 : The Great Convergence

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A story half told is a crime, and there is no crime greater. When this tale began it was the tale of a common woman in an uncommon circumstance. A woman unprepared, unskilled, and unready. When the last words were written, they spoke of a master many times over. She was a woman filled with resolve. Fearless, steadfast, and above all, determined. A woman firm in her belief and single in her focus, willing to charge into the jaws of doom for her cause. A job needed to be done, and she had the tools to do it. Imagine what the next pages will bring . . .

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"I have lost my mind," Myranda muttered to herself. "Behind me is paradise. A warm bed waiting for me every night and hot meals waiting for me every day. The people there care for me, respect me, even admire me! I am turning my back on it in favor of a dark cave that will very shortly be filled with water, chasing a confirmed and shameless killer with hopes of convincing him to end a war and save the world."

The paradise was Entwell. It was a place of learning, populated by the wisest wizards and the mightiest warriors. All had come seeking a beast of legendary ferocity. A beast that each believed had taken the lives of all before them. A beast that had turned out to be the cave itself. For two short periods a year the cave was dry and passable. The most recent such period was, in moments, going to come to an end.

The killer was a creature with seemingly no true name. Myranda first new him as Leo, then as Lain. The name most knew him by was The Red Shadow. He was an assassin, known and feared throughout the continent. He was also a malthrope, a hated and dying breed of creature that looked like a human and a fox combined. Most important, though, was what had days ago been revealed. In a ceremony designed to both summon one divine warrior and identify another, he had been revealed as a Chosen One. A tool of the gods, fated to end the war that had been eating away the people of the Northern Alliance and Tressor for one and a half centuries. Rather than embracing his fate, he had turned his back on it. Now he was somewhere within this cave, heading for the war-torn world, with no intention of playing his role. And so she had followed.

"I will find him. I will convince him. I must," she insisted.

Myn merely shot her a quick look of acknowledgment before continuing on her task. The dragon, not yet a year old, hadn't spent a day away from Myranda, and she never intended to, no matter the difficulties the travel may bring. Her claws were better suited to the rough walls of a normal cave. The glassy walls of this one offered a challenge, but it was by no means the greatest challenge on the horizon. Already the pair was far enough along that the light from the entrance was dimming behind them. They were rapidly approaching the point of no return.

Myranda pulled the staff from her bag as the darkness deepened. The well crafted tool was longer than her own had been, and stouter. No doubt perfectly suited to the height and grip of its former owner, her friend and former teacher, Deacon. She coaxed a light from within the crystal with ease. Being in the cave reminded her of just how recently she had come upon these new talents. When she was here last she'd had to rely upon a torch. Now, thanks to Deacon's teachings, she could simply will light into being. She dared not dream of such a thing months ago.

The pair had only been walking for a few minutes when the mountain let out a bone-shaking roar that each knew all too well.