I really wanted to share part of Book 14, but it reveals too much.  Epic fight scenes always go over well as teasers.  Still, I have to behave and remember that I have a book to promote.  A little inside to the ascended Destiny God and our beloved Purity Goddess.  Also, click on the cover below to grab a copy of Tribe of the Snow Tiger:

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

With nothing left to say, Zaria vanishes in a puff of sparkling smoke and the crowd disperses in a similar fashion. A thick layer of residual magic hangs in the air and causes an array of rainbows and stars to glint in the sunlight. Gabriel and Ymir are the only remaining gods in the amphitheater as a small whirlwind sends the magical clouds into the sky. Satisfied that the meeting is truly over, the Fury God releases his grip on the other deity and takes a seat on the warm ground. His muscles relax and twitch now that he is no longer in the presence of Zaria’s delicious rage.

“She is playing me,” Gabriel growls while running his hands through his hair. “I guess the Goddess of Purity is not as pure as we think. Maybe we should stop her from going beyond her purpose.”

“It is amazing that you still misunderstand the person you have been allied with for all this time, godling,” Ymir replies, grabbing a few large stones and crushing them in his meaty hand. Tossing the fine powder over his shoulder, he crouches in front of the Destiny God and meets the man’s amusingly defiant gaze. “You are the darkness and Zaria is the light, which keeps both of you in a state of near perfect balance as the game plays out. Now it appears things are changing as you come closer to the end. She no longer has to keep you in check as you gain your heart’s desire. She can release the love and rage that has been locked within her core for more centuries than I care to count. It will be a beautiful and terrifying sight that I will enjoy bearing witness to.”

“That is not very pure.”

The bellowing laughter from the orc shakes the amphitheater and sends a spray of spittle across the other god’s face. “Of course it’s pure! It is mortal foolishness to think purity is exclusively good. If that were the case then one couldn’t be considered pure evil like your old master has been called since the ancient times. Rage, love, sadness, and all of the emotions in our hearts can fall within Zaria’s venue. You see, Hell Lord, she merely prefers goodness and nobility because that is her true nature. Yet she can indulge in the darker side of her purpose at any moment and not be punished. Her realm is so vast that I feel I’m not doing it justice with my words. Let me try to make this explanation more simplistic and basic for you. All one needs is to hold something in their heart and never let it get mixed with distractions. Pure rage, pure love, and pure misery are only some of the scars that she bears beneath her skin. That is her truth and it’s one that mortals don’t give her any credit for.”

“I find it amazing that you older gods know all these things and only tell me when it suits your ego,” Gabriel points out, bristling at the superior tone of the other deity. He scowls at the orc’s toothy yawn and hopes a large boulder will fall on the brute’s head. “I would like to know the reason you indulge in making me look foolish.”

“It’s quite simple,” Ymir explains with a solid pat on his companion’s shoulder. The orc scratches his fiery hair as he walks toward the nearest exit. “You’re supposed to be the smartest, most powerful, and strongest of us all. At least that’s what you claim every day. So shouldn’t you be figuring these things out for yourself? Perhaps your mind has been cluttered and distracted ever since you ascended. This prophecy blinds you to uncovering other truths that are staring you in the face. I guess it’s a good thing that your champions are claiming so many victories. If they win, you will finally be free to open your eyes and find a new path. Though that’s just this angry orc’s humble opinion.”

The Destiny God tries to think of something to say, but Ymir lumbers out of the amphitheater long before he can speak again. Taking a seat in the front row, Gabriel changes his clothes to those of a farmer and transforms his longsword into a rusty pitchfork. Memories from his mortal life flit through his mind, the images too fuzzy and quick for him to remember with any certainty. A low hum causes a distant cloud to transform into a flock of doves that fly around the world and return to rest around the pensive god. A question tickles his thoughts and he realizes that it is the same one he keeps hearing his precious champions ask as they follow the path that he has laid out for them.

“What do I do when this is over?”