Reckless Endeavor: A Tale From Tiltwater, #3

By Bryan A. Collins

Wicked threats are stalking, loved ones will betray, and powers will once again prove to be unpredictable. The reappearance of gemstone dragons seems to mean utter doom for the souls of Gedena, but is there a way—unconventional and unexpected—that the dragons can be used to heal the broken lands?

 

Keskin and his closest allies are tested beyond measure. What does it mean to truly believe in something? What will you sacrifice for a better world? How far will you go for the most precious things in life? Keskin must answer these difficult questions while being pushed to his limits in every way. What he and his friends must do to establish peace in Augustown is more bizarre and outlandish than anything they'd ever expected, but the alternatives are few. The problem? Their solution just might destroy the world in the process.

 

In this final installment of the Tale From Tiltwater trilogy, everything gets turned upside down, and not everyone will live to see the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryan A. Collins
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224567348

Bryan A. Collins

Bryan Collins has been a full-time artist since 2006, and novelist since 2020. His art has been featured by magazines such as Juxtapoz, Game Informer, Flash, Gnarly, and more. Jennifer Love Hewitt, Jarvis Rockwell, Hugh Jackman, and other celebrities have shared and collected his works. He's a man of faith, and a general outdoorsman. Before making art a career, he was an intelligence analyst for the US Air Force, a tattoo artist, and toured in alt-rock bands. For a full bio and more, check out UseEveryColor.com

Book preview

Chapter 1 - Distance

MIST ROSE FROM THE STINKING Tiltwater swamp, as entities chirped, groaned, and clicked in the distance. Keskin Ridwolf pushed, battling indifference, trying to make his tired legs obey. He'd been circling the camp for an unknown amount of time, unaware and unconcerned that he was being fiercely watched.

The weary young man stopped, sloshed the tip of his boot up and down in a section of mud, listening to the clappy smacky sounds it made, and hoping that focusing on simplicity would calm the calamity that he and his friends were now facing.

Something would come to him, eventually, he hoped. An idea was in his head somewhere—one that would set everything straight and show Sye Marlow he was a capable and heroic young man after all, but in that very moment, he felt as useless as an unstrung mandolin.

Sye continued her fierce watching, trying to decode Keskin, wondering what his next move would be in all of this, and of course, scanning the environment for potential dangers at the same time. That part was instinctual for her, but now that dragons were a factor, she had to look up as much as anywhere else. She also had to look inward, as Keskin himself might be the greatest danger of them all, and she needed to know where to put these new . . . feelings.

He'd made his way into her thoughts and heart, breaking a wall she'd thought was impenetrable. She had to keep him out—or get him back out—and knew it with certainty, so why was that task so difficult? Why was he so intriguing? He wasn't an average boy, that was for certain, but he was a klutz, he spoke too quickly, he overestimated his cleverness, and he had an uncanny talent at absolute recklessness. He also had a most annoying, never-ending desire to prove himself.

But who wouldn't?

Keskin's father nearly destroyed Augustown by unknowingly leading Del'Kadesh back to it; Keskin's mother turned out to be the greatest weapon forger in all of Tiltwater; his grandfather Vindu, built a prison that provided years of safety from the Wolves; and of course, Keskin killed his own great grandfather to once again bring some semblance of peace. But now, he wanted true peace between Man and Wolf, and Augustown didn't understand why.

With all the bad and good woven into his family line, he had a lot to live up to—and make amends for—so it was no wonder why the young man talked too fast and used every opportunity to find and show his worth.

Still, to Sye, Keskin seemed a liability. Feelings for him were dangerous, and a slippery slope was something she didn't care to navigate at a time like this.

There had been no signs that her party was being followed after escaping the Firelight Guard just outside of Augustown. So, other than the creeping creatures that inhabited the dangerous inland areas of Tiltwater, and the new enemy they now tracked through these ominous lands, they were . . . safe. Relatively. Then again, safety was always an arguable illusion.

The thought of being safe in her chosen life of monster hunting made Sye smirk. She knew that no matter who you were or what life you chose, safety could be lost at any moment—snatched away by almost anything, at any time.

Sye watched Keskin pick up a small stone and toss it up into the air. When it came back down, he hit it with his sword, then shot a spark of heat from his fingers as the stone flew away.

He missed.

Keskin showed no reaction to his failed attempt. He simply stared in the direction that the stone had gone, waited a moment, then picked up another small stone and tried again.

Same result.

Sye couldn't bear it any longer. His sulking was eating at her. See, she thought. When his pain is your pain, you're in dangerous territory. Still, something compelled her to help the poor soul. Help heal him.

This nagging desire to care about that awkward guy was most troublesome, like an insect that keeps going up your nose, in and out of your ears, even landing in your mouth before slipping away to do it all over again. You just can't seem to stop it.

Sye hopped down from the low-hanging branch she'd been sitting on and gingerly walked up behind Keskin.

You're not leading off of the target, she said.

Keskin turned to look at her without expression, then picked up another stone, tried again, and missed.

You have to aim ahead of a moving target. That gives your arrow, or in this case your spark, time to intersect the rock rather than chasing it. Here, watch. She picked up a stone and threw it.

As Sye raised her hands to send a bolt of frozen air at the target, Keskin fired his spark and exploded the stone.

I know how to do it, he said. He resisted eye contact. I just don't know if I care right now.

Keskin wanted to walk away, but could tell that the silver-skinned beauty was in the mood to help him. And oh, how he wanted her to be more involved in his life, on a much more personal level. How he wanted to be admired by her, since he admired her so deeply. And, since Keskin was tired of screwing up and having to apologize for his mistakes, he just stood there, unsure of how to proceed with Sye. His experience with females was . . . sparse. Anyhow, Sye was no ordinary female, in his limited calculations.

Sorry, he said, then realized he'd just apologized again.

Don't be, Sye said. We're in a bad way and you have a lot on your mind. I understand the pull toward indifference.

I'm sure you do, he acknowledged. There's more than enough going on right now for either of us to process. Family issues seem to be the plague of the day. I see why some people choose a life of solitude.

Sye shrugged. "Yes, it's true. You would have less problems with other people if you had no one around. That seems logical, but don't you fear you'd have more problems, being all by yourself?"

What do you mean, he asked, finally turning to face her, then got lost in her pale eyes as usual.

Sometimes you need someone there to interrupt your thoughts, so you don't bury yourself in them.

Or, someone to captivate your thoughts, so you don't have to think about your shortcomings to the point of insanity, he sighed inside.

But that's not why Keskin thought about Sye. He could have made a long list of reasons, yet knew nothing he could come up with would truly explain it.

Is that why you walked over here, then? To keep me from burying myself in a clouded mind? he managed to ask.

No. Not at all. You're most definitely a lost cause, she joked. I actually came over here to show you up.

Sye reached down with lightning speed and scooped up a handful of rocks, flung them across the thick boggy air, and she and Keskin began shooting away in an unannounced race.

I won! I got three of 'em. Keskin boasted.

No, you didn't, Sye challenged, I threw five and know for a fact I froze three."

Nah, nah, nah, there's no way. I clearly saw three of them shatter in hot sparks, so you only hit two. I definitely won.

Sorry, young man, Sye said with a dismissing wave of her hand. You're absolutely mistaken. Three times did they explode in frozen shrapnel. You got two. I got three.

Not possible. You only got two. Keskin said. He stepped in front of her as she tried to walk back toward their camp. "Do we need to walk over there and dig the pieces out of the mud so I can prove that I beat you?" He smiled handsomely.

Sye leaned in, just inches from Keskin's face, and he could smell her sweet breath. She'd been chewing mint again. We can if you want, but I'd rather call it a tie so we can both be winners. She held his attention with that half-smile she always made.

Beyond her minty breath, there was another scent—the one that was just . . . her. Keskin couldn't define it, he'd just come to recognize it whenever she was near. He quivered a little—unnoticed by Sye—and his eyes went back and forth from her eyes to her lips, then she kissed him.

Keskin was so surprised that he didn't kiss back. He stood there, slowly sinking into the swamp, hearing the echo of his own pounding heartbeat. If she kissed him a million times, he would never tire of it. Every time their lips met, it was a gift from the Great Artist.

Sye was gone before he knew it. In his dizziness, he barely noticed her look back and say, "Just messing with you, Keskin. There were six stones. We both hit three. Next time you raise an attack, know how many enemies are on the field."

Keskin smiled, and for a moment, forgot all about Rez Marlow and the Triplets, the conniving Elders of Augustown, the witch they were heading out to find, the dragons, and his father being back from the dead. All he thought about, in that tingly moment, was that if they survived the coming days, he had a new purpose.

He had someone to live for. Someone to stay strong for. Someone to be a better version of himself for. And, against all odds, it seemed Sye was on board with it. How he'd managed to gain even a moment of her attention, he would never understand. In fact, his pursuit of her early on was more an effort to entertain himself and annoy Sye's brother. Keskin never actually thought he had a chance, but now—if he didn't royally mess things up—he might actually be living a dream.

First things first, there had to be a stable world for them to live in, and that could only be obtained by disbanding the Elders, exorcizing Rez, and ending the resurgence of dragons.

That’s all.

The chance of success or survival with any one of those things was laughable, but they had to try. He had to try. If he gave up on any of those endeavors, he might as well give up on life itself.

Sye was becoming everything to him, in so many ways. He had to press forward. He had to follow his constant burning to do what was right. Not just for himself, not just for Sye, but for every soul on Gedena. It was the world Sye lived in, along with everyone else he cared about, and that world needed to be better for them. Not because he fashioned himself a hero—not anymore—but because he saw the threats and actually had the ability to stop them. He and his friends, that is.

To ignore the calling seemed the same as helping the threats succeed. Keskin needed a direction and Sye had just given him one. She cared for him, and though he never was seeking such a thing, now that she'd shown it, he was ready to fight for it. He was ready to fight for her and with her. He was ready for anything and everything, regardless what lies ahead.

Of course, Keskin had no idea just how bad things were about to get.

Chapter 2 - You Don't Know Magic

THE NEXT MORNING GREETED them with uninvited fog and bitter wind—a looming vagrant whose reputation has you tightening your coat and locking your doors. It would seem the wind would push the fog away, sweep the world and tell the vagrant that it's time to move along, but the white air remained. It kept coming in a never-ending supply, like it was being manufactured by the trees themselves.

Dear Great Artist, please don't let there be Graybogha trees.

The group—Keskin, Sye, Chance, Laneek, Tilvia, Bergmin, Kylista, Yandy, Carol, Velina, and Markus—began wondering if they should stay put for the day. Swaying moss danced to the off-beat percussion of branches competing with each other as they auditioned for the solo. The amateur array of audacity dulled the ability to sense danger, adding unnecessary peril to the already treacherous quest, and none of them cared for more misery.

They didn't need much convincing for a day to rest up. The opportunity to mend gear and talk about recent events was welcomed, and moreover, a fire and a hot meal sounded better than a wagon full of depta.

They'd made gains in their journey thus far, but moving forward felt more automated than motivated, and the group needed a clear and concise plan to continue. Sure, Keskin and his crew had put some distance between themselves and Augustown, but not enough to forget the horrible happenings they'd left behind.

I just hope everything is going to be okay, Bergmin grunted to himself, but aloud.

Who knew for certain what the Elders were up to? Getting other towns involved in their devious deeds and plotting to rule all of Tiltwater was a dangerous game, and so many lives were at stake if the Elders succeeded in that plan.

Furthermore, if a Wolf wandered into Augustown without Keskin and the others there to mediate, would there be a murder? If the Elders took over the entire island, would all the Wolves eventually be put to death?

Keskin looked at Kylista and thought of all she'd been through. At the moment, the situation with the Wolves would have to play out how the Great Artist allowed, because their current quest was the most urgent. They'd have to face the potential Wolf genocide and Elder takeover of Tiltwater another day. They'd agreed that, first and foremost, they had to get the cache of Mercat scales from Mount Terrikill before Rez Marlow did, or there may not be a Tiltwater left to save.

Those thoughts compelled Keskin to speak. We should keep moving. I know it's hard to see, we're tired and cold, but Rez could be floating his way to Mount Terrikill as we speak. Might already be there, in fact.

Sye stood and collected her belongings. Keskin's right. My brother will certainly seek more power—

Power? Uh, invincibility, if I recall? Chance corrected.

Yeah, Bergmin agreed. If he gets those Mercat scales—

He wouldn't be invincible, exactly, Kylista said. Anything can be stopped, I suppose, but he would certainly be a force unlike anything Gedena has ever known.

Tilvia nodded. I've faced great foes over the years, but I can't imagine four sour souls in the body of one, cloaked in the deep power of Mercat scales.

Sye quickly looked away from Tilvia.

My apologies, Tilvia said. Just three sour souls. I shouldn't judge your brother.

It's alright, Sye said. He has gone sour over the years. Ever since our parents . . .

Keskin felt Sye's discomfort. We have a great task ahead of us, he said to everyone. Nothing is more urgent or takes precedence over finding Rez as soon as possible, and our greatest chance is heading to Mount Terrikill.

With that, begrudgingly, everyone prepared to move through the milky, groaning woods.

They counted on Chance, Laneek, and Kylista's keen sense of smell and Bergmin's stretched out ears to warn them of any unseen danger, and Keskin learned quickly to control just enough heat to illuminate his fingertips as a means to cut through the wall of white. He toyed with a small ball of light, attempting to make it hover in front of them, lighting the way, and eventually stabilized it enough that they all felt confident letting it lead them.

I'm all the way down here and can barely see the ground, Chance grumbled. This is utterly ridiculous! I can't see my own feet in this mess.

No need, Laneek said. Just look to Keskin's light.

"I need to see down here, my lovely little weasel. There have to be gems I can use in my Trella. My magic is nothing without them and I plan to collect as many as possible. I'll learn and use every color and become the greatest mage this island has ever known. They'll be callin' for me, ya know?"

Chance looked around as if in danger, and said, "Someone get Chance! We need a real wizard to eradicate these despicable ghouls!" He waved his hands frantically, though no one could see in the fog.

Laneek said, "I doubt it works with just any normal gem. Prob'ly has to be enchanted ones, wouldn't you think?"

Well, how should I know? I just learned magic a matter of days ago. It's all foreign at this point, but I'll be great at it soon. Just you watch. I'll be the best in the land!

Bergmin wanted to clarify something. "You didn't really learn magic though, did you? I mean, aren't ya just wavin' the fork-rake-stick around and hopin' for the best?"

Better than not knowing magic at all, big boy!

But you don't know magic, that's what I—

Tilvia interjected. Rather than getting worked up in the details of all of this, we'd do better to focus on our quest, would we not?

Chance and Bergmin made childish faces at each other and tried not to laugh at the other's contorted expressions.

They all continued carving lines in the muck with their feet, pressing through the shroud of milk, heading north, with no other solid plan to speak of.

Anything look familiar yet? Keskin asked no one in particular.

Very funny, Sye said dryly.

I wouldn't know my own mother here, if she was within arm's reach, said Bergmin. And I've got my eyes stretched out as far as I can.

I sure miss Miles, Keskin said. Horseback would be so much better than dredging on like this. Perhaps we can find a village somewhere and trade for some legs. I'd even ride a gushraker at this point.

Sye folded her arms across her chest, then unfolded them quickly to an outward reach, pushing a blast of cold air away from her. The fog momentarily whipped around like laundry drying in the wind.

There, she said. The way these trees curl in circles seems right, Sye answered. I remember them pretty well, having run through them with my senses heightened in battle when we encountered the witch.

Smells about right, too, Chance added, but seems we still have a ways ta' go. I don't smell the mask or that scraggly, stinky witch-lady. I assume she left some of her stench in the circle. Kinda hard ta' hide somethin' so hideous as that.

Then we keep walking. Kylista said. We'll find the place eventually.

Keskin drew his sword and slashed at some growth dangling in their path. He swung at a few other small branches, more out of frustration than need. The fog was drifting in and out in waves then, giving them short moments of some shrouded visibility, then back to total whiteout. They hoped intently that the blanket would lift soon for good.

Without provocation, Keskin thought of his father Markus, and how to reconcile all of the pain and loss that had accumulated over the years. Since leaving the cave where they encountered the dragon, Keskin hadn't looked at the stranger very much. To Keskin, Markus was still indeed a stranger, and Keskin didn't trust him in the least. Keskin didn't even know him.

Bergmin walked ahead of the wild-eyed Markus, sometimes dragging him by his tied hands and grunting or growling to express dominance. Furthermore, after the outburst at the cave, no one trusted Markus near Kylista, and the two were kept apart as much as possible. They all pushed through the unforgiving terrain and tried to be as efficient and stealthy as they could. It was a tall task for such a large group.

Ahg! Yandy expressed. He waved his large hand then worked to untangle his horns from low vines. Getting through these woods might be a greater challenge than exorcizing your brother, Yandy complained to Sye.

Thank you for coming along, Sye said. You didn't have to, not knowing me or Rez, so I appreciate you.

No worries, my lady, Yandy replied as he collected himself. Any friend of Velina's is a friend of mine.

Velina made her way up next to her son, patting Yandy's shoulder as she passed. I sure hope your plan works, Keskin. Velina said.

Me too, he replied.

Velina half-smiled. It's not that I think we shouldn't be doing this—helping Rez and Sye—it's just that I can't stop thinking about Augustown falling apart, and how I would love to get Markus home where he can rest. I feel he would heal faster there, in familiar surroundings, and perhaps then he could help stabilize our town. Get things back to normal.

Not everyone will be happy to see him, Mother. You know that, Keskin told her.

I know, son, but it will be good for us all. We can heal. As a people. As a town.

He caused a world of hurt for many souls when Del'Kadesh followed him back to Augustown. Like me, he won't get the hero's welcome you might anticipate.

I don't expect a celebration, I just want him to have the chance to explain himself to the Augustinians. When they hear how he endured being stranded on Unnamed Island, found his way back to Tiltwater, wandered the perimeter of Mount Terrikill, all to right his wrongs . . .

Leaving his wife and child to fend for themselves . . . Keskin said with a slow shake of his head.

Velina tightened her lips, then said, When he regains his mind, we should hear him out. I'm sure he has a lot more to tell us and we owe him the chance to explain.

Do we? Keskin asked. "I foresee no story that he could tell—no tale of altruistic suffering—that would justify leaving us. He was seeking glory, or in the least, avoiding shame. Both would be about him, and putting you and me second."

Keskin increased the intensity of his ball of light and walked faster.

"I pray that you extend mercy to him, my son, and find forgiveness in your heart. He is still—then, now, and forever—your father.

Keskin grunted a hmph, then briefly looked over his shoulder to see his father's face, his twitchy eyes and mumbling lips, his wild hair and lowly mannerisms.

Well, Keskin said, I don't mean to dash your hopes, but I'm not sure he will ever fully heal. He's a lost cause.

Markus reached up with his bound hands, pulled a moth out of his tangled hair, briefly examined it, then ate it.

He has a long way to go, but Carol and I believe he can be made whole again, Velina said. "I have to believe. All this time he's been out there trying to correct the past. He lost his mind in the attempt to fix his mistakes. I believe he did that for us. He feared we would be ashamed of him, and that's why he didn't come home. He wanted to make us proud first. Now it's our turn to show the depths of our love, Keskin. We must be patient and strong for him. He needs us."

I agree, Carol said, and your belief will speed up his healing process, Keskin. He will feel it, and perhaps remember his bond with you, Velina. Kindness and love are never the wrong choice, and they do miraculous wonders when given the chance.

Carol handed Markus a moist ball of herbs from her satchel. Over the days of travel, she'd been feeding him various concoctions that she'd hoped would promote clarity. She also used the challenge of Markus' condition as a way to distract herself from the memory of attacking those Firelight Guards. Although she knew her violence had been unleashed by Chance's magic, she never would have dreamed it could happen at all, and her own soul needed mending. Her healing hands drew blood! She still struggled to look at them.

If Carol let herself think about that event too long, she became frightened of her own company, and what other atrocities she could commit. She now knew, regardless of her unbelievable self-control, she was capable of any terrible act, just like anyone else was.

No. Don't go down that path. Take your thoughts captive, Carol said with closed eyes.

She focused again on Markus.

I think he's already making strides, Carol said. I've caught small glimpses of lucidity in his eyes. It seems to be scaring him, but that should be a sign that he is seeing things in a new light. When I look into his aura, I see faint glimmers of color. Little flickers that want to grow.

Keskin huffed quietly and wondered between Markus and himself, who would have the more difficult time accepting this new reality. His dead father mumbled and stumbled along, still speaking in his own made-up language like a baby first learning the difficulties of communication.

How could Keskin trust this man alone with his mother, when Markus had already tried to kill Kylista?

Hours passed, visible in the muck that accumulated over everyone's legs, all the way up to their thighs. Chance and Laneek had given up walking hours ago and were perched on each of Bergmin's shoulders.

In the least, the fog is lighter, Kylista said.

We can always count our blessings, Carol said.

I smell water over there, Laneek said and pointed.

Chance lifted his nose. "Yep. Sure would be nice ta' get cleaned up and refreshed. Even if only for a moment. You already look beautiful, my love, he said to Laneek, and I must attend to my hygiene, so your eyes aren't tempted to gaze upon another."

Laneek giggled. I wouldn't dream of it. My eyes are forever glued to you!

Still, I'll never offer you anything less than my best, sweet weasel. So, toward the water, then? Chance said.

All agreed, and they made their way to a creek that opened up into a beautiful, clear pool, before becoming creek again.

Bergmin protruded his lower lip as he scanned the area. He said, All this muck and mud, and here's crystal clear water, just waitin' for us? How did we get so lucky?

Tilvia scanned the liquid's flow. It's being filtered through there, she pointed to large piles of pink and peach lichen-covered rocks and large balls of light green moss, just upstream from the