Mark of the fool 7 a pro.., p.1
Mark of the Fool 7: A Progression Fantasy Epic, page 1
MARK OF THE FOOL 7
©2024 J.M. CLARKE
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the authors.
Aethon Books supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact editor@aethonbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Aethon Books
www.aethonbooks.com
Print and eBook formatting by Josh Hayes. Artwork provided by Shen Fei.
Published by Aethon Books LLC.
Aethon Books is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Contents
Also by J.M. Clarke
1. Fires of Past and Present
2. Teleportation Tactics
3. Aggressive Recruitment
4. A Shining Finger
5. Taking the Bull by His Horns
6. The Last Rabbit in Hiding
7. The Light of Darukesh
8. Those that Fought and Drank Together
9. Spreading Word of the Traveller
10. The Gestation of Divinity
11. Moving up in the World
12. Lucia's Story
13. The Seeds of an Empire
14. Seeds of an Imperial Court
15. Searching for Inner Power
16. The Parable of Worship
17. Those That are Silent and Those That are Not
18. A Demonstration of Growth
19. Planning for a Return to the Games
20. When Enemies are Unaware
21. Canine Operatives
22. The Grand Opening
23. The First Customers and the Wells that Dry
24. Sabotage
25. The Roth Family Bakery Counter-Offensive
26. It’s Strange When it Happens Twice
27. The Lantern Against Loneliness
28. To Keep Good Company
29. Chasing the Traveller’s Lantern
30. The Prince's Request
31. A Sacred Bond
32. A Decision a Long Time Coming
33. Rite of Passage
34. The First Spell of a New Generation
35. A Hint
36. What is Here and There
37. The Countryside After a Year
38. The Prince
39. The Royals
40. Another Beginning to the Games
41. Coins in Question
42. Mad Stan’s Fear
43. Khalik’s First Match
44. The Real Winnings
45. The Trash that’s About to be Taken Out
46. The Middleweight Terror
47. Kybas’ Final Match
48. Kybas’ War
49. Not so Harmless
50. One Punch Golem
51. The Nature of Bravery
52. Soon
53. A Change in the Program
54. The Terror of Advancement
55. Roth vs. Ram
56. The Tool of the Mind in War
57. Ram’s Pride
58. Prime Time
59. Flim Flam
60. Heels
61. Hunting Sparks
62. The Spark
63. The Light of Creation
64. Fire-Kissed
65. Arc of Fire
66. The Flame’s Journey
67. Prelude to the Second Grand Battle
68. The Unstoppable Juggernauts
69. The Second Trump Card
70. Victory, Spoils, and Celebrations
71. To the Beach of Before
72. A Simple Proposal
73. Prelude to the Ritual
74. Blood Ritual
75. Metamorphosis
76. Uldar’s “Servants”
77. Leaving in the Face of Storms
78. Broken Glass
79. Taken
80. The Falling Dark
81. Terrifying Solutions
82. Shadow over Luthering
83. Vivisection
84. In the Belly of the Beast
85. Folly
86. Faith
87. Three Eyes to Find
88. If We Happen to Die
89. The Coming Storm
90. Explosion
91. War Comes
92. A Living Legacy
93. Desperation
94. Everything
95. Everything and More
96. The Stone Prison
97. The Five Heroes
98. Watching the Throne
Thank you for reading Mark of the Fool 7
Groups
LitRPG
Also by J.M. Clarke
Mark of the Fool
Book One
Book Two
Book Three
Book Four
Book Five
Book Six
Book Seven
Book Eight
Check out the entire series here! (Tap or scan)
Chapter 1
Fires of Past and Present
Alex awoke to the crackle of flame.
The fire’s warmth tickled his face as his small form snuggled beneath a thick blanket. The scent of venison roasting and cookies baking reached his nostrils, inviting him to wake up.
“Hm?” The young boy raised his head, squinting at the fireplace. It warmed the room, burning brightly behind an iron screen that kept sparking embers at bay.
“Well, someone finally woke up,” a man’s deep voice came from near Alex’s bed.
He startled at the familiar words, quickly turning to find a man sitting nearby.
He was lean and tall—Alex hoped he’d match his height when he was grown—corded muscle hardened from years of splitting wood and hauling kegs defined his arms. His light brown eyes shone with mischief, and he wore his chestnut brown hair cropped close to his scalp.
Calloused hands played with tiny building blocks, showing them to the babbling bundle sitting on his lap. Selina was a toddler, rambling on in a singsong voice as she reached for the blocks her father held, sharing them with him and doing what she loved best, putting them together in unique ways.
But her large green eyes weren’t always on the blocks. Much of the time they were fixed on the fire, absorbed in the dancing flame.
“What’s wrong, Alex? You’re going to start drooling soon,” Mr. Roth laughed.
It dawned on the boy that he’d been staring at his father and baby sister with his mouth hanging open. “I was yawning, that’s all,” he said, trying to recover.
“Uhuh.” Mr. Roth grinned knowingly.
Something about that smile disturbed young Alex.
A feeling that something was off crept down his spine. Something wasn’t right. Apprehension stirred in the back of his mind, like he’d forgotten something incredibly important.
It was unsettling…
Alex frowned. How old was he again? For some reason, he couldn’t quite remember. Maybe he was still really sleepy.
“Well, I guess it wasn’t too thrilling of a tale, eh?” His father nodded toward something near his pillow. “I think you had a few minutes with it before you were fast asleep. You looked like some of the regulars in the alehouse when it’s long past midnight.”
“Hm?” Alex looked at the object his father was grinning at; a story book he’d borrowed from the school’s library—filled with illustrations—about a wise wizard who’d used his tricks and spells to defeat a hungry ogress.
He’d been quite enjoying the book. “I like this one!” he insisted, snatching it up. “It’s really good!”
“Uhuh.” Mr. Roth chuckled. “If it’s that good, then I’d love to see how quick the bad ones put you to sleep.”
“Oh, don’t make fun of him so much,” a warm voice—with all the promise of spring and summer—drifted from the kitchen.
A spike of yearning struck Alex’s heart at the same moment the apprehension returned. He looked toward the kitchen where a smiling woman was coming toward them.
His mother had been—no, why was he thinking of her in the past tense? His mom winked at him. She was usually a cheery soul, one who was quick with a song and even quicker with her smile. Her auburn hair was caught up in a loose braid that bounced as she walked, and her green eyes shone with amusement.
In one oven mitt covered hand, she held a tray filled with cookies, producing a delightful scent which drifted through the air. They smelled abso
So why was that wonderful aroma painful?
What was going on?
“Alex had a busy day today, Sean, and he needed that nap.” She placed the tray on the nearby dining table. “I’m sure that book is thrilling if he says it is.”
“It is,” Alex said, glad to be defended. “It’s the best one I’ve read in a year!”
“I thought the best one you read in a year was the one about that frog?” Mr. Roth wondered aloud, scratching the stubble on his chin. His gaze had fallen on the cookies with undisguised greed.
“Well, that one was good, but this one’s a lot better!” Alex insisted, also eyeing the cookies.
“Uh-uh,” Mrs. Roth said without looking at either of them. “Supper first, then dessert.”
“Right, best check on the roast then,” Mr. Roth said, barely hiding his disappointment. He picked up Selina. “Would you take her for a bit, honey?”
“I might not let her go.” Mrs. Roth took the cooing toddler with a dreamy smile. “Since when did I get such a cutie pie?”
“I’m right here, you know,” Alex said, tucking the book under his arm.
“I remember a young man saying, ‘I’m not cute, I’m cool!’ no more than three days ago.” Mrs. Roth rocked Selina in her arms. “I wonder who that young man was?”
“Hah!” Mr. Roth chuckled as he headed into the kitchen. “And you say I should stop making fun of him?”
Left alone with his mother and little sister, Alex stared up at them. Again, that apprehension coiled around him… leaving him feeling like he was looking at something that shouldn’t be.
“Your teacher said you did very well on your last arithmetic test, Alex.” Mrs. Roth looked at her son, her eyes twinkling. “She was very proud of you, and so am I. And I believe good boys deserve rewards.”
She looked at the cookies meaningfully and whispered, “Don’t let your father hear you.”
Alex’s face lit up. He wasted no time in tip-toeing to the tray and choosing the biggest cookie in the pile to stuff into his mouth. It tasted the way he imagined food from one of the heavens would.
Crumbs and all were long gone by the time his father returned with a pan heaping with slabs of roasted venison and root vegetables, drenched in steaming gravy. He placed it on the table beside the cookies and—luckily—didn’t seem to notice that the biggest one was missing.
“I heard you and Mum talking about your test,” he said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Well done, Son. With the mind you have for numbers, you could handle the books for a business. Maybe work for a magistrate. Maybe even be a magistrate yourself one day… Just don’t be a tax collector, I’d never live it down.”
“Oh please, Alex will take over the alehouse one day,” his mother said warmly, putting Selina in a highchair beside her own seat. “Won’t you, Alex?”
The little boy avoided her gaze, looking instead at the book he was holding. On the cover, the bearded wizard faced down the giant ogress.
He looked so brave.
So magnificent.
“Actually…” Alex murmured. “I want to be a wizard.”
Silence filled the room.
“It’d be grand!” Alex started talking fast. “I’d be able to do magic to help the people around Alric! I could keep the countryside safe from monsters, plus I could help you with the alehouse. Wouldn’t it be nice to have all the cooking and cleaning done with spells instead of by hand?”
More silence.
Again, that apprehension ran through him.
“Well… wouldn’t that be a mighty fine thing?” Mr. Roth chuckled. “Imagine that, a wizard in the family?”
“That’d certainly be the most important thing my family’s ever done.” His mother laughed. “And it’s cute. You’d be dealing with fairies, and pixies, and the like.”
“Aye, and turning people you don’t like into newts.”
“And turning frogs into princesses and princes!”
“Mum! Dad!” Alex complained. “It’s more serious than that! It’s not just cuteness and fairies! It’s very important work!”
“We know.” Mrs. Roth smiled. Something about her smile was… odd. “But whatever you choose, we’re proud of you.”
“You’re going to be a big, important man someday.” Mr. Roth put Selina in Alex’s arms. When did he take her out of her highchair?
Why was it so warm?
“Be well, Alex,” Mr. Roth said.
The crackle of flame roared through the alehouse.
Alex whirled on the fireplace and screamed.
Flame poured from it, spraying through the room. Fire, like hungry demons, engulfed the alehouse, filling the air with thick smoke. The sweet scent of cookies and their last meal together, was replaced by the acrid stench of smoke and ash.
“Mum! Dad! We’ve got to leave!” Alex screamed.
Selina’s eyes were wide as she both screamed and giggled at the scene around them.
“Mum!” Alex screamed. “Dad!”
The flame was everywhere. Smoke had smothered everything. He could no longer see his parents or his home.
There was only the crackle of flame.
The crackle of flame.
The crackle of fla—
Someone was gripping his shoulder.
Alex woke up with Thundar shaking him.
“Alex! Alex!” the minotaur hissed. “Alex, you’re having a nightmare! Wake up, ground yourself, man. The mania field’s getting inside your head!”
Alex awoke to the mania field rampaging through him: fear, longing, anger, and loss screaming in his head.
“What th—Thundar?” he muttered, trying to ground himself. His mind shifted to the present, marking the feeling of his clothing against his body, the sight of Thundar’s snout before him and…
…fire crackling?
He shot up, wondering where he was.
And then it came to him.
He was still in the maze of Cretalikon with Thundar and the mercenaries he’d hired. They were trying to escape to the material world. The crackling he’d heard wasn’t coming from a fireplace in an alehouse, but from burning walls around them, and the flaming sky above.
Alex shook his head, trying to erase the last traces of his dream.
Meeting the Traveller’s spirit—something he could hardly believe happened—must have triggered the dream. It had seemed so real, even though he had no memory of those specific events ever happening when he was small.
Initially, the dream felt strange and comforting, real, yet in reality, he hadn’t left the maze, he hadn’t been with his family.
“I’m fine now.” Alex clapped Thundar on the shoulder, forcing himself to his feet. Nearby, the aeld staff was emitting waves of concern while Claygon’s was reaching through their link.
“Father… are you well?” he asked, his body still partly encased in iron.
At the golem’s feet lay the dead body of Celsus, shrouded in a blanket coated in frost. Alex had conjured a pair of ice elementals to freeze the warrior’s body just before he’d nodded off.
It wouldn’t do to have him succumb to decay before they even got him back home.
“Yeah, I’m well,” Alex said. “How’s everyone else?”
“We’re good.” Thundar stretched. “The nap did me some major good.”
The mercenaries were breaking camp. Ezerak was shouldering a heavy pack, while Guntile gathered her gear.
Ripp was already scouting the path up ahead and…
“Where’s Kyembe?” Alex asked.
Guntile nodded toward the top of a wall. “He should be down any second.”
Alex followed her eyes to the closest wall, spotting the Spirit Killer descending the burning stone with the agility of a spider. His blade was back on his hip and his skin was unmarred, free from burns.
He seemed no worse for wear when he dropped the last dozen feet, landing silently on the stone tiles. “I have news, but it comes with a dreaded question: is it the bad news you wish to hear first, or the worst?”
Alex grimaced. “Let’s start with the bad news and work our way up to the worst.”
“Alright, then the battle in Jaretha shows no sign of ending soon.” The Spirit Killer was moving quickly, grabbing his pack from the centre of camp. “In one way, this is good. Our allies are not dead, which is always a good thing. Of course, that also means our hope of reinforcement from them is somewhat thin. We will have to rely on ourselves for our escape.”
