Questing Sucks (Book 1) (2 page)

As Sehn continued, the trees continued to age. The wood became softer and the colors less vivid. Sehn stopped at the last in a row of darker, older, and shabbier trees, also known as home. Merely two floors up was where his miserable life resided. Climbing the ladder of the termite-infested rot-pit, Sehn kicked in the wooden door and entered his pathetic dwelling. He sat on his cot and let the wind blow the door closed.

I can’t wait to be filthy rich and have a servant for everything: a shoe-removing servant, a back-scratching servant, even a napkin-folding servant.

Sehn closed his eyes for a few moments, dreaming of riches while he waited for the arrival of his guests. After what seemed like an hour, he heard the first knock on the door.

“Finally! I have waited for you sorry louts over an hour. You dare make Sehn wait? I shall shove the point of my ears up your arse for this.” Sehn stood up to get the door. Opening it, he frowned. The Elven woman standing in the frame was not one of his drinking buddies. Actually, she wasn’t anyone Sehn wished to see.

 
“Cah’lia, what in the Gods are you doing here?”

She had a sick, pale look about her, and her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. “It’s Nero, you buffoon! He’s gone to the Death Woods. Why would you let him do that?” She spoke in the informal tongue.

You’ve got to be kidding me. What is that idiot thinking?

Sehn shrugged. “And I am supposed to care, why, exactly?”

The woman shrieked—she actually shrieked. “He looked up to you!
He’s the only one in this city that doesn’t despise you, including your own father!”

“And? Is there any reason why this should even remotely matter to me?”

Cah’lia’s ears stood as straight as a dagger, a telling sign of anger or worry, and she stormed out, sobbing into her arms. Sehn slammed the door shut behind her.

Foolish woman is lucky I didn’t fireball her
.

He sat back down on his cot to wait for his friends. Four seconds after the woman left, he crossed his arms. Five seconds, and he grunted. Ten seconds later, he howled his anger and frustration.

“Damn that boy! Why the fuck would someone go to a place called ‘Death Woods’?” He picked his bow and dagger up off the dusty oak table in the corner of the room, slinging the bow over his back and sliding the blade under his tunic. Then, he grabbed his newly acquired Elven blade and sheathed the weapon.

“I’m going to beat him to a pulp, that little brat.”

Chapter 2: Death Woods

 

As Sehn, God-king to all in existence and first in line for every throne, trekked his way through the dark, unforgiving forest, he wondered how things had gotten so out of hand.

 
“Death Woods,” Sehn muttered. “Why in the fucking
fuck
would someone go to a place called the ‘Death Woods’?”

He had no time for such nonsense. He was too busy being invincible, omnipotent, omniscient,
om
…
om
everything! All mortals stepped aside when he passed, giving way to their master.

So why was he here again?

There was a rustling from a bed of dead leaves to his right. The screech was the only indication he was given as a ferocious black bat the size of a small child dove at him. Without time to mumble a spell or even to reach for his sword and bow, Sehn quickly pivoted on his foot, turning the movement into a spin. While whirling, he unsheathed his dagger and sliced the beast horizontally across the neck. Sehn laughed ruefully as it fell lifelessly to the forest floor.

“Foolish creature. How dare you fly at the Great Sehn?”

The woods south of Elvar had a long and rich history. In ancient times, they were home to a more primitive race of Elven folk. There was a rich and deep backstory as to why they’d become the dangerous forest of death: one filled with twists, turns, and adventure. These were precisely the reasons you couldn’t pay Sehn to give a shit about them.

“Nero!” he called. “Nero!”

Where is that little runt? When I get my hands on him, I’ll wring his neck. People had better not think I’m doing this because I’m a good guy or anything. I fully intend to demand a reward for being out in the Gods-cursed Death Woods.

Another Hell-Screech appeared from the shadowy sides of a giant oak tree. This time, Sehn was prepared. In one fluid motion, he loosed an arrow into its face. The creature died while still in flight and joined its companion, the two corpses soon to become worm food. Sehn didn’t like when things attacked him. It drove him crazy.

In a fit of rage, and at a speed that transcended even the best of archers, Sehn randomly fired a volley of arrows into the surrounding forest, hoping he would get lucky and hit something, even if it meant him no harm.

Sehn was an exceptionally good tracker, though if you asked him he was an exceptionally good everything. The forest grew darker as he made his way through, until he was forced to light an arrow on fire just to see ahead of him.

“Remmos
Salas
!” Sehn chanted. The arrow burst into flames at the tip, illuminating the surrounding area.

The forest wasn’t only getting darker, but the trees were growing bigger as well. If the boy was to be found, it needed to be soon, or not even the Gods would save him.

“Nero, where in the hell are you?” Sehn shouted.

The dirt turned to mud and grew moist as Sehn walked over it, which indicated a large water source nearby. If the boy had any wits about him—which Sehn doubted or he wouldn’t be in a place called ‘Death Woods’—he would be camped nearby.

“Hey, Sehn
,” a voice whispered.

Sehn spun around at the sound of the voice behind him. “Nero, is that you?”

From the shadows of a neighboring tree, a small boy walked forward.

“Nero, you little brat, I should fireball you into the future. What possessed you to come out here? Not…not that I was worried, or anything, because there’ll be a reward for you. But what gives?”

Nero approached
. “I was bored,”
he said.
“I wanted to play.
Sehn, will you play with me?”

“Here? No damn way. Let’s go, Nero. I’m in no mood for these games. I had to kill, like, ten things just to get here.”

Sehn grabbed the boy’s arm and then recoiled. He felt a powerful burning sensation shoot through his hand. He leapt backwards, almost tripping over his feet as he stumbled into the thick bark of the nearest tree.

“What the hell?”

Nero began to change. His form twisted, shifting into something out of a nightmare. His small, boyish face imploded then expanded, growing and stretching. A green tint formed, spreading over the boy until a greenish hue covered his entire face. His body began to expand, too. It twisted and contorted until the clothing ripped free of the body, which was now colored the same mossy hue as the face.

Where once were eyes filled with wonder, now there were diamond-shaped scales with dark red lashes. Ooze slipped from the creature’s mouth as it made a hiss that Sehn interpreted as laughter.

“Play with me, Sehn, play with me
.”

The creature, now triple Sehn’s height, smashed his fist down on top of the ground. Sehn leaped out of the way, rolling on the forest surface, coming back up in a crouch with his bow in hand. He loosed four arrows but to no avail. Each bounced harmlessly off the creature, and it snarled at him yet again.

With a muttered curse, Sehn tossed it to the side and drew his Elven steel. “This is some bullshit!” he growled, charging at the creature.

Sehn swung the blade with all his might, but the creature raised its arm and blocked the weapon with its own hand. It roared in pain as a chunk of green flesh fell to the floor. It turned to him, eyes filled with rage. Before Sehn could move, its other hand whipped around, crushing into him and sending Sehn a dozen paces back. He hit the ground with a rolling grunt, which knocked the wind out of him.

Sehn tried to get back to his feet, but the creature closed in for another attack. With all his strength, Sehn forced himself out of the way and into another roll. As he rose to his feet, Sehn felt a dark anger. Not at the creature but at himself. No matter how arrogant the man, there is always an inevitable realization of denial.

The city people feared Sehn. They feared his magic, because to them he was a God. But his magic was complete shit. He’d always known it, but by surrounding himself with hard-working citizens, it was easy to deny. His father had tried to teach him—practically begged him to learn, but Sehn didn’t bother to try, and why would he? Sehn wanted money and servants, not mystical knowledge.

With a thunderous roar, he howled at the creature.

“Remmos Salas!”

The ball of flame hurtled through the air, striking the thing dead center in its face. It cried in pain as Sehn followed up with another, and yet another. Each ball of flame struck the enemy, but Sehn was growing weaker, and the creature showed no signs of slowing down. He knew that he would have to use a different spell, and it was from this that the second crippling realization dawned on him. He only knew
two
spells.

Sehn had never bothered to learn anything but
Fireball
and
Earthquake.
And he didn’t even want to learn
Earthquake
. In fact, the only pride his father had ever felt for him was when Sehn busted down the door to his father’s living area and demanded to learn the spells of flame.

Because fireballs are awesome!
Sehn reminded himself. So, why would he bother to learn anything else? His question was answered as the creature closed on him yet again. Green ooze poured like a river out of its open wounds.

Sehn was exhausted, and even if he had the strength to cast another spell, he’d not be able to catch his breath to utter it. The creature swung at him with a massive green arm that would spell out Sehn’s death upon collision. He flung himself to the ground, dodging by inches as grass and mud splattered over him. That he had hurt the creature was without question, but it wasn’t enough. This sucked, so, so much.

“Sehn!” cried a voice.

Nero appeared from behind a tree to Sehn’s right. He was covered in mud from ear to toe, and his clothing was torn.

“Nero, get lost!” Sehn shouted at him. “If I die, this is
your
fault, and I won’t be able to haunt you with my spirit if you die with me too.”

“I’m so sorry, Sehn. I never should have come out here. I won’t leave you!”

Sehn growled. Why did the little Elven brat have to be stubborn?

The creature made its way closer to them, now only a few paces away. It was slowing down from its injuries, but it still had enough force to destroy them both.

“Sehn. If I leave you, and…and you die, will it really be my fault?” Nero was crying now, tears streaking down his small, puffy face.

“One hundred percent! I want you to cry every time you see my paintings.”

“I won’t live with that!” Nero charged at the giant monster, the small little thing he was. Death wasn’t even a matter of if, but when, and the when seemed to be only moments away. Sehn caught his breath—he wasn’t about to let the brat die. He kicked off the back of a tree, and sprinted after him.

The creature met the boy’s assault head-on and brought its arm around to smash Nero’s face.

“
Ralos MAHR!”
Sehn thundered, causing the ground below Nero to crack, tripping him and causing the monster to miss by a hair’s breadth.

With the last bit of strength he still commanded, Sehn launched one final flurry of fireballs.

“Remmos Salas!”

“Remmos Salas!”

“Remmos Salas!”

One by one, he sent them at the monster. Each crashed into the creature’s green face with an audible smack, causing chunks of slimy green skin to splatter around the forest. Sehn’s exhaustion nearly caused him to collapse. When he had nothing left to give, he simply crumpled to the floor.

The monster was grievously wounded, but it wasn’t enough. The creature charged at him with half its face missing, intent on ending the battle. Sehn had time for one final thought.

Aww man, I’m gonna die like such a little bitch.

He closed his eyes and waited for the end.

Am I dead?

After a moment of complete silence, he slowly opened his left eye, then his right. The monster was lying face down, its massive green face sunken into the mud. So close, that the tip of its eyelash made contact with Sehn’s boot. Slowly, carefully, Sehn rose to his feet.

So the creature had died from its wounds, and this was its final charge
?

Sehn’s clothing was torn. His body was filthy, physically and emotionally spent. His stamina depleted in its entirety. He had at least one broken rib, a nasty gash on his right shoulder, and multiple fractures in different locations. He was breathing deeply.