War God for Hire- Gladiator by David Burke (books under 200 pages .TXT) 📕

door. He didn’t begin to despair until he had tried more than a hundred doors. Sometimes the voice told him that he lacked the necessary key. Other times the door was simply locked, and he couldn’t make it budge. A few times, especially with the smaller doors, he felt such a sense of shame as he tried to work the handle that he abandoned it to move on.

Finally, he screamed out, “Why?”

Then a thought occurred to him and he yelled, “Hilde? Are you here? Can you show me how to find you?”

No voice came to him, but he felt a rising heat far down the hall.

So, he ran.

He ran past doorways which intrigued him, ones that shamed him, ones that scared him, and ones that left him feeling like he had inhaled too deeply from the gas in the dentist’s office. But he ignored them all as he ran on towards the one heated door.

When he reached it, unlike all the others, it was a double door formed of solid gold and set into crimson rock. Twelve feet in height, it was carved neatly and had a duplicate image of the pickaxe he had used in the quarry worked into each side with intricate detail down to even the rune carvings that had been on the weapon.

This door felt warm and inviting. This entire place was his and he knew it needed to be explored, but this room made him feel at home. Even as he reached out to push the doors open, he felt the doors quivering and pushing inward ahead of his touch.

Once the doors were open, he still couldn’t see inside but it wasn’t because of darkness or any barrier; it was more like he had to step in to see. A step of faith was called for, and Kyle figured he had come this far, why stop now?

He stepped forward.

Chapter 26 - A Fiery Welcome

The sensation as he passed through the doorway was intense. Every nerve in his body erupted into fire. The pain only lasted a second, but it left a lasting memory and took his breath away. As the agony faded, he felt the sensation of limbs which had been asleep and were not waking up. Pain was no longer the correct term, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant either.

From there, it transitioned into something akin to having his arms and legs both tied to a traction table as he was stretched like Gumby. They used to have one of those in the clubhouse, and the trainers all tried to get any player with a stiff back on it. Some of the older guys swore by them, but Kyle could never get the idea out of his head that the table was just an updated version of an old method of torture.

The change that he was undergoing and the veil that had blocked his vision all faded at the same time. He looked down and saw how this body was the same, but his attire was completely changed. Gone were the shirt, trousers, and boots that he was allowed to wear into his cell. Now he was decked out in a full set of armor, and not the showy pieces from his arena costume.

No, now he was wearing an ornate set of gold and red armor that for all its glam was clearly highly practical. The plate metal was strong, pliable, and very obviously enchanted. He was covered from his wrists to the soles of his feet. The only part of his body that wasn’t covered was his head.

Surprisingly, the armor felt completely natural. He could feel the well-padded joints and the supporting structures within the armor, but as far as he could tell his movement wasn’t impaired at all. Kyle swung his arms around just to get a feel for it. It was then that he noticed the room he was in.

It was the same room from the vision he had of Hilde when he had somehow reached out to her. It was like a throne room from some epic fantasy movie, complete with arched stone windows set with plate glass, tapestries upon the walls, columns of carved stone, and rich rugs. Then his eyes followed the red rug set upon the black basalt floor up to where it ended at the stairs climbing to a raised dais. Upon that dais was a single throne that was larger than any a normal human would have needed, but which likely would have fit Kyle’s new body very well, complete with armor.

Upon the throne with her legs curled up under her and her wings draped over her was a shuddering feminine form. The fiery red hair and ornate tattoos worked into her ankles made him think this was Hilde. That was the way she had appeared in the vision he had of her. But why would Hilde be crying? This woman was most definitely crying. He ought to know. He had made more than one woman react like this over the years.

Kyle strode forward with purpose, meaning to walk to the throne and figure out what the matter was. But with a single step, he crossed the entire five-hundred-foot length of the regal room. Apparently, his intent to reach the throne was all that it had taken. In his mind, he couldn’t help but think, “Not the throne. It is my throne.”

Out loud, he said, “Hilde? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

One of the black and red wings, which somehow appeared to be actively burning, lifted up enough for a staggeringly beautiful, if tear-streaked, face to peek out. A myriad of emotion was displayed across that face. Shock, doubt, awe, fear, anger, and tearful joy all rushed by. Then she leapt from the throne in a lithe movement that defied human expression.

Kyle realized instantly even as she was moving that despite how fast she was, he still could react to block her. He could strike her down. But no, she was no threat to him.