Patrick Laplante [Laplante - Violet Heart

Violet Heart

Book 1 of the Violet Fate Duology

Copyright 2019 by Patrick G. Laplante

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book. Requests for permission should be addressed to the publisher.

Violet Heart is a work of fiction. Names, organizations, places, and incidents portrayed in this novella are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual, events, locales, or persons is purely coincidental.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Published by: Patrick G. Laplante

First edition, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-989578-02-5

Painting the Mists:

Clear Sky

Blood Moon

Light in the Darkness

Pure Jade

Corrupted Crimson

Kindling

Shifting Tides (forthcoming)

Violet Fate Duology:

Violet Heart

Converging Fate (forthcoming)

Dedication

To those who dare.

A violet hawk flapped its wings, cawing as it circled the blood-drenched battlefield. It ignored the sea of carnage, choosing instead to focus on a single hand poking out from a mountain of corpses. The hand was delicate, likely that of a woman. Something about it called to the hawk, and it would stop at nothing to obtain it.

Knowing that time was of the essence, it dove down toward its prey. Its eyes glowed red as it drew ever nearer, not spotting the slight movement in the hand as it did. Still it approached. The thought of failure barely registered as the hand plucked the hawk out of the air like a ripe and bloody fruit, its corpse dissolving into a bloody mist that was absorbed by the skeletal limb. Strength returned to the hand as the demon died. Then to the arm, and to the damaged body attached to it.

Yue Bing woke with a start. Her limbs twitched violently as her mind and body synchronized once more. Relief coursed through her at having escaped the sweet oblivion of death. She struggled against the pile of corpses that covered her, and it barely moved. Then, sensing the disconnect between her soul and body at having escaped death, she familiarized herself with her body once again before continuing her struggle. A few shattered limbs fell off the pile, lessening the weight that bore down on her just enough for her to wrench free.

Where are they? she thought, looking around frantically. The womans long black hair was matted with blood, and her blue robes looked purple from the battlefield gore that soaked them. Panic set into her eyes as she realized that no one else was moving.

She ran over to another pile of unmoving bodies and scanned them for any signs of life. Unfortunately, she could see very little in the sea of carnage. The air was filled with remnant qi, blood vitality, and resentful souls that lingered where their bodies had perished. Even a cultivator at her level couldnt sense a single thing.

Whats that? she thought, spotting a glint up ahead. She scrambled toward what seemed like the only unbroken object in the area. No, not unbroken. The objects identity registered in her mind. The large blade was cracked, a large notch protruding from its rune-covered edge. It was her brothers blade, the blade that had blocked the blow meant to kill her. She prayed to the heavens its owner was safe.

With the sword as her starting point, she began inspecting the bodies. One at a time, her practiced gaze inspected the wound-riddled remnants, lest she miss the two people she sought. Here and there, she spotted treatable injuries. At least, they would have been treatable if the people in question were still alive. A severed limb, a deep gash to the abdomen. Severed fingers and deep burns. Her medical knowledge was useless in the current situation, but it calmed her mind to process the injuries as she sifted through the seemingly endless victims.

By the 512th, she spotted her quarries. Her heart skipped a beat as she ran out toward the two bodies, who, to her relief, had not yet cooled. But her relief turned to horror as she realized that death was seconds away from claiming them.

The larger man was littered with bloody holes that could no longer regenerate. His body was mangled and torn, and nine-tenths of his wounds were on his back, the back that had shielded his weaker brother. Bits of flesh hung off his mangled spine, which was miraculously still unbroken despite the damage his blade had suffered.

The thinner man was in no better condition. Though the larger man had taken the brunt of the impact, his brothers violet robes were torn, and his skin was a bloody mess. Half his bones were broken, and not a single organ had escaped collateral damage.

But they were alive. That was all she needed.

She summoned a golden ankh affixed to the body of a staff. Twin serpents surrounded the sacred items body before converging on angelic wings. A bloody glow appeared on the ankh as she summoned dozens of crystalline needles and infused them with the last vestiges of her qi.

The needles slipped into their bodies effortlessly and stopped their blood in their veins. Then she whispered an incantation, the incantation she needed but dreaded all the same.

Blood to blood, she whispered, her golden ankh emitting a bloody cloud. The cloud was not unlike the one shed extracted from the hawk earlier, though its color was richer, darker. It split into two balls of potent energy, one big, one small, before shooting into the two mens bodies.

Flesh knit, and bones mended at a visible rate. Their organs recovered, and critical injuries completely healed over. Then their blood vessels mended, and their blood resumed flowing once again, displacing the crystalline acupuncture needles, which were no longer needed. Their bodies were safe, but she knew their lives werent.

Life to life, she whispered, causing the ankh to glow with white light. A similar glow appeared around her own body before splitting into two large balls of pure potential. As they left her, two thick bunches of long black hair turned white. Such a result was expected, for the white globes were her life force, the price she needed to pay to save them. She paled and sank to her knees, the two white balls shooting into her two brothers.

Breathe, she pleaded. Breathe. Her prayers were answered. The men, who hadnt breathed this whole time, gasped. Their souls, which had left for a brief moment as they skirted the netherworld, jolted back into their bodies. Their eyes fluttered as they began to regain consciousness.

Exhausted, Yue Bing slumped down. She spotted two figures flying toward them in the distance. Friends, she hoped, as she was in no condition to stand, let alone fight with two cultivators. She hovered on the brink of conscious for what seemed like an eternity before she heard a familiar voice and felt a familiar hand. Then, she collapsed.

Her brothers were safe.

In the empty space just outside the Ling Nan Plane, a gray rift appeared in the void. A tall old man in black robes stepped out, his timeless black eyes sweeping over the lesser world with excitement and curiosity. As lord of the Underworld, it was Yamas responsibility to understand the various planes and how they fit into the cycle of reincarnation. At least, thats what hed told everyone before taking off before a very unpleasant meeting.

Stretching his aged but strong body, he let himself drift off in the blackness of space as he listened in on the mortals down below. Children went to school while parents worked. Cultivators cultivated, and so on. Everything was normal. Mundane. Boring. That is, except for the budding war on the planes only continent.