Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,25

“My name is Bassorine. I am the God of War. I have chosen to use my statue to welcome you to Grayham. It is I who will answer your questions, and it is you who will listen when I speak. Do we have an understanding, my mortal friend?”

Bassorine waved his arm, releasing Sam from his unseen bonds. As Sam drifted to the floor, he replayed the sound of the word ‘mortal’ in his head. He realized that in his haste to control his surroundings, he had overlooked the godly part of the prophecy and had attacked needlessly.

Knowing he was helpless against such power, Sam reluctantly replied, “I understand,” and further thought, Besides, I’d get my ass kicked.

Sam said nothing more as he watched the “so-called” God of War walk toward Shalee. Bassorine stopped above her and moved his hand over her body. Her mass lifted from the floor and hung suspended, high enough for the god to stroke her face without bending over.

Shalee’s eyelids fluttered as Bassorine set the human back on her feet. As he waited for Shalee to regain her balance, Bassorine could see the frightened look on her face. “Be comforted, lovely one. No harm will come to you.”

It took a fair series of moments before Shalee was able to calm down. She moved to stand beside Sam after Bassorine motioned for her to do so.

The heavy-coated wolf moved away from the God of War to explore its surroundings. As it did, the beast limped over to Sam and sniffed the fighter’s feet. The animal pulled back and snorted its disapproval.

Moving on to Shalee, the beast seemed to find delight in this new aroma. With each sniff, the wolf’s snout rose higher and higher until it took in a heavy breath of her backside. As it circled to the front, a better aroma was found.

Shalee was beginning to feel violated as she stood in stunned silence. The warm air from the wolf’s snout was passing through her PJs—like Mother Nature’s summer breeze.

“Mosley, stop that!” Bassorine commanded.

The wolf pulled back and turned to face the god. What happened next caught Sam and Shalee off guard. The beast spoke. “What? Her aroma is magnificent.” He looked at Sam. “But your smell curls the hair in my snout. You don’t run with the rest of your pack. Your odor is selfish.” The wolf looked back at Bassorine. “The human doesn’t have the smell of a leader as you said he would.”

Mosley looked back at Sam. “Despite your stench, you fought well. I can’t remember the last series of moments in which I was hit that hard ... a few well-placed blows your paws delivered to my flanks. I hope you were unharmed.”

Despite the impossibility of a wolf speaking, Sam was irritated by the wolf’s flawed recollection of the fight. The genius moved past the fact the animal could speak—a fact Shalee was still digesting—and rebutted. “Of course I wasn’t harmed. You didn’t touch me.”

Sam turned his attention toward Bassorine. Respecting the god’s power, he was careful to choose his words. “You said you used your statue to greet us. You also said you would answer my questions, and I should listen when you speak. Maybe we could have a conversation?”

Bassorine nodded and then motioned for the wolf to stand by his side. “This is my companion, Mosley.”

The beast looked up at Shalee, gave her a wolfish grin and winked before complying with the god’s desire.

Bassorine, God of War

Bassorine reached down to scratch the back of the animal’s head. “Mosley is the finest companion a man, or god, could have. He’s a night terror wolf. On many occasions, before I ascended, this beast saved my life. He is loyal. I have given him an extended existence because of his actions. He will live many, many seasons before he joins me in the heavens.”

Sam took a second to admire the animal’s beauty, and then he raised his right hand as if he was in school.

Bassorine motioned for Sam to speak.

“Okay, okay. Let me get this straight...” He reiterated what he had just learned. He concluded by saying, “...And we’re in a place called Grayham. Is that about it? Do I have it right so far?”

Bassorine sighed. “You’re not in Grayham. You are on the world of Grayham. More specifically, you’re on the continent of Southern Grayham.” The god motioned to the section of the floor that had held his statue. “My likeness and the base it stood upon have sat within this