David Ascendant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 7)
as a freak of nature; away from the giants who mocked him as less than Rephaim.
    And he knew just what he was going to do.
    He looked up at the night sky. The brilliance of the gods shone down upon him. In his culture, the stars were equated with the gods, and so their influence as well. Was his destiny really controlled by them? If so, then let them stop him now.
    He pulled out his dagger from the burning coals of the fire.
    He knelt down in front of a rock. It struck him how like an altar it was; a flat top, almost square.
    He prayed to Dagon, “Forgive me, Lord of Storm, but you give me no other choice. I will not live this way.”
    He placed his hand on the stone and spread out his six fingers. He placed the blade on his smallest digit on the outside.
    Then he cut down on the finger and sliced it off. The pain shot through his arm with ferocity.
    He was tough. He growled, but he did not cry. His eyes were filled with hatred for everything that mocked him.
    He held the red hot blade against the lesion to cauterize the wound.
    The odor of his sizzling flesh assured him he would not bleed to death.
    He ripped a piece of his tunic and wrapped it around the mutilated hand.
    He saw the little stubble of a finger laying on the rock, and brushed it off with cavalier contempt. If he could not be a Son of Rapha, if he could not be respected as a descendent of the Nephilim, then he would cut off the offending members that marked his connection to that bloodline, the members that mocked him most.
    He then placed his feet, one at a time on the rock and cut off each outer toe with the heated blade and wrapped each foot in a bandage as well.
    Lastly, he switched the glowing blade to his wounded hand and cut off the sixth digit of his right hand. By now, the pain was so great he almost passed out. But Ittai had an iron will and would never give up or give in. Through sheer determination he kept himself conscious and coherent.
    He wrapped his last hand awkwardly with a bandage. Now he would no longer be mocked as a stunted Rapha. He would not seek the acceptance of the cruel Philistines any longer. He would start all over in a place where people would think he was a human and treat him with dignity.
    He was within a short distance of his goal. He had walked twenty miles through the desert and was just outside a city.
    It was Mizpah of Israel.

Chapter 11
    The small town of Mizpah was the site of several important moments in Israel’s history. In her ancient past, it was where the patriarch Jacob had made a covenant with Laban and set up a pillar of memorial. It was a rallying point where Israel gathered together against the tribe of Benjamin in the early era of the Judges over Israel. In more recent days, the seer Samuel first called all Israel to come to that place and pray in light of the Philistine threat, upon which their god thundered against the Philistines from heaven and pushed them back permanently.
    When Ittai first arrived in the town, he was taken in by the blacksmith, Micah ben Jonathan, a Kenizzite. Because of the Philistine monopoly on blacksmithing, such craftsmen were rare and often misunderstood among the Israelites. But the Kenizzites were originally a gentile tribe with smithing background. Micah was a simple man who worked hard and stayed out of people’s way. Because of his own orphan-like gentile status, he had a special compassion for orphans of all kinds. When he found Ittai begging in the streets, he could see there was something special in this lad. He took him home to care for him.
    When Micah noticed Ittai’s wounds he didn’t ask questions. He was not even aware of what they represented. He didn’t care what happened in the small boy’s past, he only wanted to give him a future .
    After his wounds healed, Ittai showed great promise in blacksmithing. He already had a knowledge of it from previous apprenticeship. In fact, Ittai even taught Micah some important principles since Israelite skill in

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