Stormwielder (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 1) by Aaron Hodges Page A

Pitiful as that might be – his body was shaking from pain and exhaustion. It would take little more than a child to defeat him.
    “Don’t be afraid, Eric,” the voice was soft and feminine.
    Eric was not about to let his guard down. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
    Stones rattled as a young girl stepped forward into the light. Her features were faint, as if glimpsed through a misty veil. All he could see of her face was the violet glow of her eyes. An elegant sky-blue dress wrapped about her slight figure, spotted by the blurred green images of what might have been flowers or leaves. A faint glow seeped from her pale skin. The scent of lilies and roses fluttered on the air, bringing with it images of a summer meadow. Her bare feet carried her closer.
    “I am Antonia, Goddess of Plorsea,” she said.
    Eric gaped, eyes wide, his mouth unable to form a response. It was not possible. Antonia was a Goddess. This girl could not be older than twelve.
    “Ho– how?” he stuttered. His mind was reeling. This cannot be possible.
    “How did I come to be here? How could I be the Goddess? How how how,” Antonia’s tone sounded amused, as though she were holding back laughter. Eric could not make out her expression, but he imagined she was smiling.
    The Goddess came closer. “We can ‘how’ all night, Eric. First, though, I need to save the wily old man. Step aside.”
    Eric stood, speechless, as she moved past him. Her movements were smooth and graceful, as though she glided over the ground. Only the soft crunch of her footsteps gave her away. The night around them had suddenly lost its terror, touched by the gentle light of the Goddess. It was as though sunrise approached, banishing the evil of the wasteland back to the shadows.
    His eyes followed Antonia as she crouched beside Alastair. His heart pounded like a galloping horse, his breath coming in rapid gasps. He still could not believe what his eyes were telling him.
    Antonia looked up at him. “Would you stop staring? ”
    Eric’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. His stomach clenched in knots.
    “Honestly, you look as though you’ve seen a–,” her eyes widened. She placed a hand over her mouth and groaned. “Oh damnit, I’m so sorry, Eric. Sometimes I forget!”
    She snapped her fingers. The mist faded away and the radiance of her skin softened. Her features finally came into focus.
    Curls of silky brown hair hung across her face and tumbled down her back. A button nose sat between her violet eyes and there was a faint sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks. Strands of hair caught above her left ear, until she shook her head to free it. The wisps of hair fell to the side of her face. Staring into her eyes, Eric was struck by their depth. They spoke of an ancient wisdom held only by the immortal. Her mouth twisted in a wry grin.
    Antonia laughed, the sound bubbling like music. “You look more stunned than before. Not what you expected?”
    Eric found himself grinning in spite of himself. The tightness in his chest relaxed and he found his voice again. “Not exactly,” he paused, his chest swelling with hope. “Can you really help him?”
    “Just watch and see,” she turned away and placed her hands on Alastair’s chest.
    Antonia closed her eyes. A slight frown creased her forehead and a shadow passed across her face. She hunched her shoulders, her little fingers digging into the torn cloth of Alastair’s shirt. Blue veins appeared against the creamy skin of her arms.
    A faint green light bathed the two of them. Eric felt its warmth on his cheeks, as though he stood before a great fire. The light settled around Alastair, soaking into his skin and wounds.
    Eric watched wide eyed, as the muscles of Alastair’s leg reattached themselves to the bone. The angry red of the skin surrounding Alastair’s wounds faded, while colour rapidly returned to his face.
    All over Alastair’s body cuts closed and bruises vanish. His broken limbs