He wasn't supposed to win,” Master Renn hissed. Siris could hear them talking in the other room of Renn's hut. Siris sat quietly, holding a small bowl of soup in. Brandon Sanderson PDF - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or pointing. but the God King's weapon—the Infinity Blade itself—flashed in the air. falling to the ground as he climbed from the cart. then dashed at a full run out. Infinity Blade Awakening - Download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read then dashed at a full run out of the cavern. they were simple brutes. exposing.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Indonesian|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Register to download]|
You can easily download Infinity Blade: Awakening Pdf, Infinity Blade: He was chosen to complete Robert Jordan's long-running Wheel of. Download Infinity Blade Awakening. Brandon Sanderson PDF Infinity Blade: Redemption · Awakening · Brandon Bays - ruthenpress.info Read "Infinity Blade: Awakening" by Brandon Sanderson available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. Trained from birth in.
His mother, Myan.
His mother would know what to do. Fetching water. He should have known. She hurried to him, stepping with a limp from her fall ten years back. She took his arm tenderly. Oh, lights in the heavens, boy! Now we. The Infinity Blade. It almost seemed to glow in the sunlight. You actually did it? He hit it off-center again. He could kill a man seventeen ways with this axe. He could imagine each one in perfect order, could feel his body moving through those motions.
His mother had never wanted him to go. That would have been like. By then, it had been too late. For both of them. There will be celebrations! Dancing and. And what is that look on your face, my son? They sent me away. Why would they. People will come looking for me. But with just his mother. Why had he even come to her, then? Perhaps a greater kindness would have been to stay away.
He hesitated, then shook his head. Her hand tightened on his arm. Then perhaps we can talk further. He carefully noted in his logbook: I like peach cobbler. So dutiful.
So focused. Sometimes I felt less like a mother to you, and more like a. Even when you were young. That should have been impossible. Surround yourself with people too afraid to speak. A particular bit of information scrolled past.
A tiny smidgen of time. The sword was working. Raidriar had good ways to keep track of him. The proof was before him. It was all about control. He confronted this question. All three of my captives. The rain continued outside. A week had passed since his death. No matter. It was important to have men who would question you and see flaws in your plans. That could be disastrous. High Devoted of this particular temple. Of course. Too many questions.
Those moves. They would surrender their secrets to him. He hated questions. Worker of Secrets. So familiar. He should have realized this. This was what the plan had required. Perhaps only one more death of the right bloodline. That fight had not gone the way it should have. That could be an issue. Who trained him.
In a way. The servants worked. The God King sat back. It was strong enough to kill lesser Deathless. He waited for six hours.
And then it all locked into place. And so. He started the hike down to the castle. The God King leaned forward and watched with interest. The God King laced his fingers. He looked down at the sword he wore in an improvised sheath at his side. The other Deathless. It squatted in the cliffs. He could faintly recall when six hours would have felt like a great deal of time to sit and think. His servants located the child. A mortal did not slay a god. Maybe I could. Tie a heavy bit of metal to one end.
What is wrong with me. He stopped and inspected the tree. That might work. He reached the side gate to the castle. He continued forward. A rope could be a weapon. He remembered walking this long route just over a week before. Siris had once stood on one of those. The rocky path was slippery with pebbles and shale. Long of limb. At the base of the cliff.
He felt. The castle is yours. Do not leave us again. It jumped forward. He almost laughed. The kingdom as well. The court seemed strikingly familiar to him. Let us serve you. Remain here and rule us. I am Strix. Siris raised his sword with a sigh. State your purpose. Which he found suspect. But perhaps he could use them. Every one of them in the castle. Seeing his face unnerved the daerils. The blade had some kind of magic that had let the God King summon it.
Bring them to the throne room. Yes indeed!
You have slain our ruler. Finish what you began.
That would be suicide. What had his mother meant by that? That seemed a good enough reason to him to keep the helmet off. So far. He inspected the Infinity Blade as he waited. His mother had told him stories of magic mirrors that asked riddles. Only then did he remember the little mirror built into the armrest of the throne.
Please enter the pass phrase. Poking at the thing made it speak. Something chirped beside him. It was a word for a master duelist. The daerils that guarded the castle had all followed the old precepts. He poked at it.
It was magical. The thing had done. Siris jumped. It was the answer to one of the riddles from the stories. What was the name of your first and most trusted Aegis? Please answer this security question: In what kingdom did you first meet the Worker? Horrific and terrible though they had been. Security question three: How many days passed before your first reincarnation? The shadow lumbered forward. Something moved in the shadows.
Can you tell me how I can be free of all this and live my life? Can you answer that for me. Siris sat up. The waiting period is one day before the next access attempt. This younger beast moved like an animal.
He shivered. Kuuth wore a strange robe that had the right shoulder cut out. Even stooped with age. They are knowledgeable about some things. The aged one. The other daerils parted for him. They are like children. Had the God King used the souls of children themselves to create these things? The legends said that he feasted upon the souls of those who fell to him.
I assume? Siris scooted a little farther away from the mirror. Am I to assume that they referred to other members of the Pantheon? Mistress of the End.
He said that someone—or something—would come hunting me. I do not know where. I met a man in the dungeon who claimed to be my ancestor. Others whose names I do not know. I wish to attack one of the other Deathless. He doubted the Worker was real. It is said that nobody knows. Do you know where I should search for them? And then. Each will be angered by what you have done. Perhaps the Killer of Dreams? You travel to the north. Whom would you suggest? This is an odd request.
But then. One who is very powerful. Perhaps serving the Deathless granted men immortality? Was that why one who had come to kill the God King would instead choose to serve him? Siris knew so little. I have others. He is not part of the Pantheon. What were those creatures in the dungeon? They seemed. Siris reminded himself. Before I lost my eyes. He immediately took a grip on his frustration and shoved it down.
Where had that outburst come from? Do you know anything. The ancient troll stood quietly. A sudden flare of annoyance rose in Siris. I saw the God King use it to sling fire as well.
A troll is not meant to reach ages such as I have. Kuuth chuckled. I fought him. Why would you do that? It is growing difficult to stand in my age. That would stop a younger troll from killing me and taking my honor. I was wounded many years ago.
And our way.
At times. I wonder at what I did. It also made the younger trolls see me as lame and blemished. He only came to the castle on occasion.
But a destination. I wished to speak more softly with you. I have thought many things. Like a metal pole set up high to draw the lightning when it comes. Perhaps these thoughts will be of use to you. No maids. Most of the denizens of this castle do not think about the future. You see. Great master. It is a terrible and wondrous thing. The God King was but one of many who name themselves Deathless.
They do not age. Chop them to pieces. You have the weapon? But if one of them were to gain access to a weapon which could finally threaten them. They are immortal —truly immortal. They need neither food nor water to live. You mentioned its magic before. The Deathless have lived for thousands of years. Each Aegis or daeril who knows that a mortal slew one of the Deathless. My kind were created to die and to kill.
All will likely be destroyed. It is the method commonly granted to skilled Aegis who have acquitted themselves well. The others. First of immortals. Many of the Aegis in this castle are golems with deadminds controlling them. Just in case. They will consider it an honor. We might be able to face the others.
Why do you say that phrase that you did? Will you stay? Rule here. Making a stand here. If he was going to survive.
I suppose we are not. Siris considered it for a long moment. Better the pains of hell than living in heaven beneath the Deathless. As a child. I will slay him. They were daerils.
He may not have had a childhood. Siris dodged before he even understood why. If not. Speaking these words. You and the other daerils are to remain here and guard my castle. Siris threw himself to the side. A click from behind. If he was an enemy of the God King. He was leaving these creatures to die. But he did have something to show in exchange for that loss: Making a quick decision.
A single figure in dark clothing had dropped on a rope from one of the upper windows of the vaulted chamber. The pain was nothing. He pressed one hand to his cheek. Siris sighed. He remained still. Something sliced his cheek. Those would probably be the source of the attack. His shield was on the table a short distance away. Sleek and dangerous. The creature pulled a long. How many assassins were there? He needed his weapon.
He doubted he had time to grab them. It had the characteristic mask on its face. They had not been pleasant. In case of an emergency. Here we go. The creature promptly lowered its sword and raised something from within its coat—a slender. His foe studied him for a moment. He had expected the God King to kill him. The healing effect was immediate. As he did so. Hell take me! He had no choice now. That was a simple cut. This was not how a proper duel was supposed to go. It lasted only an eyeblink.
His skin grew clammy. He grunted. He yanked the small bolt from his thigh. He felt a burning on his finger as the magic was expended. The creature fired. Siris came up. The healing rings sped up his body in a twisted way. Siris gritted his teeth. He came up beside the table and grabbed his shield.
Though they made him heal quickly—wounds scabbing over. The assassin raised its crossbow again. The creature yelped in a quite undaerilic way as Siris dashed out from behind the dais. His fingernails had grown long.
As near as he could figure. He peeked around the side of the large throne. He hated healing. He ducked low and jumped in a roll. The enemy scuttled away. The assassin was slinking along the side of the dais toward him. The more he did it. He moved across the room back toward the throne dais.
It made for good cover. A little peckish? You know, like something has pecked you? Taking notes? I expected lightning, thunder, earthquakes. Instead I got facial hair.
Siris almost laughed. She thought he was the God King! At that moment, she leaped out from behind her pillar and leveled her crossbow at him again. And she was not unattractive, with long black hair that she kept in a simple ponytail. But her eyes spoiled it. Those were grim and hard. A massive, hulking thing of sparks and darkness broke its way through the far wall, tossing down chunks of rock. Great, Siris thought, turning toward this new foe—though. That would likely earn him a crossbow bolt between the shoulder blades.
His armor was good, but she obviously had an enhanced crossbow built to punch through the best steel. The newcomer stepped into the room, the beautiful marble tiles crunching and cracking beneath its feet.
Siris was half-afraid the tower floor would fall out from under them. They were at the highest point in the castle, and the drop would be deadly. Most of the daerils fled, though Kuuth retreated to the side of the room. The ancient troll rested on his staff, head cocked to listen.
The machinelike monster took a pair of crunching steps forward, and then another one just like it followed through the hole the first had made, knocking pieces of rock to the ground.
Great, Siris thought. He made a snap decision, then attacked forward, intending to try to defeat one of the monsters before he could be overwhelmed. The assassin had been waiting for that move, however, and took a shot at him as he charged. Siris had to lurch to a stop, letting the bolt shoot in front of him, then awkwardly raised his shield to block a blow from the first golem. At the same time. One on one. Siris grunted as he blocked another blow from the golem.
One foe in front. Siris cursed. He met its blow with his shield. He breathed out. The golem attacked again with a crash.
Siris felt as if he knew how he should stand. He leaped to the side in time to dodge yet another crossbow bolt. The second golem was rounding to his right. She was fast with those reloads. Siris climbed to his feet. He cursed. Too far for him to reach without exposing himself to the now-close golems.
Siris hit the marble floor with a grunt. He groaned. His head rang with pain. His arm felt numb. Without his armor. His hand brushed the throne as he moved. The golems were coming at him slowly. The Infinity Blade rested on the marble floor a short distance away from the throne. Siris growled and his vision returned. Dared he heal again? He glanced at his ring. He could barely feel his shield arm. The sword.
That was when he realized both hands were empty. He could feel the ground shaking. Please enter the password for activation. Were they leaving with her? Where was the other golem? He found it by following the sound of its footsteps.
New injection available in seven minutes. Siris hit hard on the other side of the dais. She looked up at Siris and smiled a toothy grin. The room shook. Currently rebuilding injection from ambient compounds. And on the slender figure crouching beside it. If they kept bashing holes in the walls.
I killed him! The other golem glanced back at Siris. Dozens had been sent over the centuries, always from the same family. A family sheltered, protected, and hidden by the people of the land. The Sacrifice, it was called. It was how they fought back.
The only way. But they would make this one act of rebellion. One family, hidden. One warrior each generation, sent to show that the people of this land were not completely dominated. It was only now beginning to sink in. He looked down, then pointedly set the bowl aside. And that means I never have to drink this dreck again!
He stood up, smiling. He had dreamed of what might happen if he actually killed the God King. But that was done with. He hesitated, then fished a small woodbound book out of his pocket.
His mother and he were among the few in the town who could read. The Sacrifice had to be literate. The logbook was empty. Not by killing the creature, but by fighting him, by proving that—despite what he may think—the world was not completely his.
Siris raised it and turned to the first page. There, in bold letters, he wrote one sentence. Master Renn stood at their forefront, a short, bald man with a round face and red ceremonial robes now faded with age. Siris thought for a moment. I should have gone to her hut first. I was always on too strict a diet to eat the pies during feasts. A warrior cannot afford such frivolity. The Infinity Blade rested against the pile. The fight flashed in his mind. Sword against sword. It had been an unexpectedly honorable dual, after the ancient ideal.
You killed their king. Did you face the others? Just a week before, these people had toasted his bravery. When the other gods come searching, they must not find a town in rebellion. You are fools! Siris formed fists, but then found his rage evaporating.