Below is a sample from a chapter of THE BLADE OF DESTRUCTION, my current project I’m working on, and the sequal to THE CREATOR’S TEMPLE. I hope you enjoy it!.

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“Hey kid, wake up.” a gruff voice said as Marty felt a kick to his shoe. He opened his eyes to see a bearded man dressed in a blue jumpsuit standing over him. “You have to get out of here.” Marty looked around and saw it was morning, and the tram was docked at what looked like a maintenance shop.  

“Where am I?” Marty asked as he gathered his things, throwing his back and sheath over his shoulder. 

“Knowles.” the man said. “Now get. We need to work on the tram.” Marty left the tram, and made his way outside from the mechanic shop. He walked along an alley to find himself in what he assumed to be Knowles, and it was nothing he had anticipated. There were no shops or store fronts in this part of town, and the houses that were around him were run down, with peeling paint, and several boarded windows.  

The road showed signs of once housing a micro-tram, but it was now cracked and filled with weeds. The fences around some of the houses were either rusted or broke, and Marty was unsure if any of the homes were inhabited.  

He walked down the road, looking for any signs of life. He passed a pair of ghouls who were scrounging through a trash can, fighting over a discarded bit of food. The further down he went, the houses remained as bad, and some were completely collapsed within themselves. He finally reached what looked to be the main road, and found a town in rough shape. The storefronts were dirty, with dusted windows and graffiti on the walls. The roads were cracked as well with broken and missing track pieces.  

He found a restaurant up ahead that served burgers, and walked in. A man, who was not much older than Marty and had long hair, looked up at him and sighed. 

“Welcome to Chummy’s, can I help you?” He said in a monotone.  

“Yeah, can I get a cheeseburger and fries?” Marty asked, pulling out a few blue bornins. He handed the money to the man, and several minutes later, was handed a bag of food. Not wanting to stay much longer in the building, Marty left, eating while he walked.  

He tried to quicken his pace, unsure of where he was even going, or where he needed to end up. He swallowed a mouthful of food before speaking. 

“Where are we going, Zin?” 

“The northern edge of town,” Zin answered as Marty stuffed a few more fries into his mouth. “We should be able to find something there.” Marty shrugged as he made his way through town, the filth around him never dissipating. He finished and disposed of his food as he passed a trash can, stepping over a rusted micro-tram cart and through a broken fence. The houses around him were completely abandoned, and the air was deathly silent. The street was littered with debris that slopped below his shoes.  The further he traveled, the worse things appeared. He eventually came upon houses that had collapsed entirely. Chunks of wood and stone piled in heaps that spilled into the streets. 

“This place is depressing,” Marty said as he looked at the plots of barren land. “Is this what you were sensing?” 

“Perhaps,” Zin said, her voice soft and focused. “We are nearly there.”  

Marty trudged up a hill off the main road that had ended in a cul-de-sac. He could see a wide clearing ahead of him, with nothing but rocks and black stone. As he walked past them, he couldn’t help but feel it looked familiar. 

Marty bent down and retrieved one of the black stone fragments from the ground, and was amazed to find it bared almost no weight.  He remembered a stone he held once before that resembled the same thing. It was a fragment that Harper had, and it was recovered by her mother from the same very place he was now standing. 

“This is it,” Marty whispered to himself. “This is where she found it.” He moved on, picking up other pieces and examining them, all resembling the others.  

“This is where it happened,” Zin’s voice said shakily in his head. “This is where I was imprisoned.” 

Marty stared at the desolate sight before him and recalled the flashes of dreams he had seen from Zin. Did his grandfather truly capture her here? What caused such devastation here that wiped it of all living things for over two thousand years? 

“Zin,” Marty said gently, “What happened here?” There was no answer. Marty walked on, examining more black stone and rubble. Then he came upon a broken beam of wood nestled in the ground. Something about it made him feel uneasy as a chill ran up his spine.  

“It happened right here,” Zin said, her voice quivering.  

“Seriously?” Marty said, staring at the embedded beam in awe. “What do you mean?” 

“I will show you.” 

Without another word, Marty felt himself leave his body, and plummet through the cosmos before landing in the same spot he had just been, but his perspective was different. He appeared to be in a female form and was glowing blue and sleek with silk draped around him. He was Zin. 

He became aware that he was being dragged by his arms and looked up to see a pair of cyclops hauling him across the ground, his feet dragging through the dirt. The sound of mallets on wood reached him as he looked up, seeing another cyclops hammering a large wooden beam deep into the ground. 

Jeers and taunts of people could be heard as Marty’s arms were forced up above him, bound tightly to the sturdy post. He fought against the bindings, which glowed white magically across his thin wrists. He looked around, as hundreds of people swore and spat at him, yelling insults and slurs his way. Then, the crowd parted, and four hooded figures emerged, one wielding a familiar-looking sword in his hand. But it was not glowing blue like Marty was used to, looking similar to when he had released Zin at the Temple. 

The blade wielder stepped closer and removed his hood. A burly man who resembled Marty’s father stood before him. His hair was grey and his jaw was strong and wide, and covered in a thick beard. His eyes were dark and grey, and vengeance flashed within them. 

“It ends here, Zin,” the man called, glaring at Marty.  

“Don’t do this, Amadeus!” Zin’s voice called out, issuing from Marty’s mouth. 

“You no longer will hold any power,” Amadeus called back, sneering at Marty with utter hatred. 

“It’s not my fault! You have to believe me!” Marty screamed. 

“Never!” Amadeus spat. The group was drawing nearer now, the sword reflecting the glow that radiated off the goddess, off of Marty. “You could have saved her! I prayed to you, and you ignored me.” 

“It was not my choice to make,” Marty called, fear in his voice. “It was her time.” 

“And now it’s yours,” Amadeus snarled. He stepped forward and pulled back on the sword.  

“Please no!” Marty begged. “NO! STOP!” The tip of the sword was plunged into his stomach, the blade illuminating bright blue as his body began to disintegrate into bright light. He felt his body vaporize into nothing, as his mind was trapped within the blue blade.  

He found himself standing in the devastated ruins once more, the blade now in his own hands, the tip sunken to the ground as he panted heavily. Is this how it felt when he recaptured Zin? 

“After that day,” Zin said as Marty looked down at the sword in his hand. “Amadeus used my power to destroy Knowles. A massive army marched from Renington, the largest ever formed in Koringa. They tried to stop him, but all fell to his power. To my power. It is that army that he now commands. The pale creatures that hunt you down are those fallen soldiers.” 

“What?” Marty said in disbelief. “He raised the dead?” He began recalling horror movies he had seen in the past. 

“Yes,” Zin said. “But they are nothing more than enchanted husks, which is why they vaporize so easily.”  

“He said he prayed to you to save someone, but you didn’t answer him,” Marty said curiously. “How come?” 

“It is not my place to stop the inevitable,” Zin said cryptically. “His wife died of a severe sickness. It was her time to leave this world and nothing I could do would revert that. If I did, she would have died some other way.” 

“But,” Marty said, “You created the world. Surely you could save people.” 

“Indeed, I can,” Zin said. “But not from death. Death comes for all living things, and it is part of living. The time we die is unchangeable. Perhaps, even for me.” 

“You can die too?” Marty asked.  

“Maybe,” Zin said quietly. 

Marty gazed out at the ruined land before him, the hundreds of fragmented rocks littering the ground. He pictured the massive army that fell to his grandfather’s hands and felt sickness overtake him. The pale creatures who had chased his father for centuries, and had forced him upon this quest from the beginning, were because of him. They were slaves, forced to do his deeds even after death. The image of the pale creatures flashed before him, as their familiar wheezing began to echo in his ears.  

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