A Legacy of Nightmares

by J. M. Wallace

  A Legacy of Nightmares

  A Legacy of Darkness, Volume 2

  J.M. Wallace

  Published by J.M. Wallace, 2021.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by J.M. Wallace

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: jmwallace.author@gmail.com.

  First edition November 2021

  Book design by GetCovers

  Map by Melissa Nash

  Editing by Suzanne Buono

  ISBN 978-1-7378806-1-5

  www.jmwallaceauthor.com

  Also by J.M. Wallace

  A Legacy of Darkness

  A Legacy of Darkness

  A Legacy of Nightmares (Coming Soon)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By J.M. Wallace

  A Legacy of Nightmares (A Legacy of Darkness, #2)

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter One

  Acknowledgments

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sign up for J.M. Wallace's Mailing List

  Also By J.M. Wallace

  To the girls who grew up riding their ponies as if they were unicorns, and who have always known that magic is real.

  Asterion Magic System

  Magi – Those born with the ability to wield magic.

  Sorcerer

  The highest order of Magi, trained extensively in the arts of alchemy, enchantments, and incantations. Their magic is driven by invention rather than nature.

  Mage

  Ranked under Sorcerer, these Magi are still undergoing training to rise to Sorcerer. Some are not powerful enough to advance to the next level.

  Druid

  The first Magi, an ancient people who once wielded powerful magic gifted by The Mother herself. Their magic is derived from the land, tying them directly to nature and the divine.

  Witch

  A lower caste of Magi, deriving their magic from herbs and concoctions. These Magi are rumored to be distant descendants of the Druids, resulting in magic more reliant on nature and the divine.

  Ancient creatures and Forest Dwellers

  Less powerful Magi with ties to the land. They do not rely heavily on their magic, but rather their connection with nature.

  Nefari

  Dark Magi who derive their power through sacrificial magic. They are dangerously powerful, but at a great cost. These Magi are outlaws in both human and Magi society.

  Epilogue

  A Reading from: The Final Judgment

  In a time after creation, following the great war in The Beyond, three Magi brothers were tested. They were granted objects of powerful magic—each a test of their true nature and their ability to forgive. The first brother, Leto, was gifted a stave to amplify his power. The second brother, Roth, was granted a gilded sword, powerful enough to cut down any threat he faced. And the third, Pris, was given an obsidian stone to protect him from harm.

  These brothers had witnessed the fall of their country, and to rebuild their forces and exact revenge, had ventured south to a new land. The Mother found them and blessed them with these objects, granting them her favor and the opportunity for a fresh start. But no magic can be wielded without sacrifice. Their sacrifice would come in the form of a test: that test was forgiveness. To demonstrate that they were worthy of such power, they would have to give up their thirst for vengeance, or otherwise reveal their unworthiness by seeking out those who had wronged them.

  The first brother used his chance to forgive and in return he found love. Leto hid away his stave and was rewarded with a companion. The second brother put away past grievances, threw the sword into the abyss, and was rewarded with peace. Driven by such hate, however, the third brother was unable to let go. He chose vengeance, and a river of blood was spilled in his wake. As a result, his object was cursed and lost to the world, destined to spread greed and destruction to any who came upon it.

  Chapter One

  Shaye, In the Darkness

  The darkness was all consuming. It shrouded Shaye like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. She felt safe here... Safe from herself and the horror that awaited her on the other side. It had been days since she had succumbed to it, allowing herself to fall into its depths, where pain and guilt could no longer reach her.

  Bastian had been right when he had promised the power she would feel if she would just give in to him. There were no nightmares here... No memories to torment her, only strength and the urge to use it. Still, something tugged on her heart and soul, calling her to return. Something shifted within her mind, and once again she could not remember why she had been so consumed with helping the son of her enemy, the man who had betrayed her people; why she had let that man’s son touch her, kiss her, and manipulate his way into her heart.

  You are safe here. Bastian’s promises echoed in the darkness. He would set everything right, she knew that now. King Sorin did not deserve her forgiveness, nor did the people who had allowed his father, King Allerick, to take her magic away. Magi had suffered for too long under a rule that had made them give up a piece of themselves. Now, that part of their soul was crying out to be released.

  How could she have let herself become so lost? Shaye was determined to make them pay for what they had done. Something in her mind was telling her that the Nefari were not her enemy, not anymore. No, she would rise with them, a force more powerful than anything Asterion had ever seen.

  By Bastian’s side, she would take back her magic, and they would claim what was rightfully theirs. He had only ever wanted to protect her, from the moment they met in the palace as children, when he took a beating for her from that bully. Nobody would ever hurt the two of them again, not if she did as he asked. The voice inside her head assured her of that.

  Shaye, Bastian’s voice beckoned her in the darkness, it is time for you to wake. We have work to do.

  She did as he bid, pushing through the darkness that enveloped her. She awoke. Bastian smiled down at her with his solid black eyes, black like the obsidian pendant he wore around his neck. The whites of them were gone now, but she was no longer afraid. She felt no anger towards him, and she could not remember why she had ever been angry with him to begin with. He was like a dark prince, her dark prince.

  He extended a hand to her, their jet-black fingers linking together. She felt her power answer to his. Lightning coursed through her and the black magic she had wielded in the abandoned camp flared to life. It was time.

  Chapter Two

  Sorin

  Sorin’s body ached, almost as much as his soul did, by the time they reached the first clan. The blast from Shaye had done a number on them all, and the feeling of de
feat was even worse. He had promised to protect her; but in that promise, he had never imagined he would need to protect her from herself. All he knew now was that he would go to the ends of the world if it meant getting her back. He hoped with all his heart that he could do it.

  Their journey into the Raven Wood had been a blur. He had been too consumed with his nerves over asking the Forest Dwellers for help. It is something his father, King Allerick, never would have done, after all. The only thing that brought him any confidence was the small, pale-green girl who had become their friend over the last few weeks. Mavka had promised to help them find allies here in the magical forest that she called home.

  Although the Raven Wood had been part of Asterion since the beginning of creation, it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that Sorin had ventured into it for the first time. The forest stood on the outskirts of Brenmar where the Winter Palace had been built over two decades ago by the late King Idor. As a child, Sorin’s father had kept him far from Brenmar. That is, until the night of the Winter Solstice ball when his father had brought Sorin along to witness the coup against Idor.

  Sorin supposed he could have visited this part of Asterion once his father had become king, but there were too many painful memories of the bloody night in the ballroom. It wasn’t until the blight had started spreading through the land that Sorin had returned to the North. Once there, he had tracked down the Stave of Leto in hopes that fixing it would suppress the dark magic that was killing the land.

  A lot of good that did, Sorin thought, cringing at the memory of everything that had gone wrong. He had known Bastian could not be trusted, and still they had let him sleep under the same roof as them, share their meals, and manipulate his way into Shaye’s mind. Sorin shifted in the saddle and Shaye’s moody, dapple-gray gelding, Finn, bucked slightly underneath him.

  Mavka whistled, drawing their attention to movement in the distance. “Almost there!”

  Mavka was riding with Bron on his warhorse, Altivo. She was sitting in front of Bron, and Sorin could see his friend pull the small girl closer to him before taking off at a gallop. Sorin took a deep breath before encouraging Finn to keep up.

  He was nervous about how this encounter would go, but it brought him comfort knowing that Mavka was fiercely loyal to him, Shaye, Bron, and Ingemar. He also knew that Mavka held influence with the clans who had spent the last twelve years hiding out in wait. They had control of their magic and had simply been awaiting the right time to stand up and fight back against the Nefari; the dark magic users who had invaded and fed on their land and who had been thwarting Sorin’s attempts at ridding Asterion of the blight. If Sorin could gather enough of the clans together with Mavka’s help, then they would have a significant force with at least a fighting chance against Bastian and the Nefari.

  The first clan they approached was made up of Dwellers who looked like Mavka. The women were petite in size, standing no taller than Sorin’s chest. They were dressed in the same fashion that Mavka had worn when they had first met her: scant clothing made up of flowers, vines, and moss. In comparison, the Dweller men stood tall and ferocious with intricate blue tattoos covering their bodies. By the way they greeted Mavka, he knew that this was her clan. She had not spoken of her family much since joining Sorin and the others, and from the way she had acted, he had thought she’d been living alone all these years.

  The moths, who acted as Mavka’s constant companions, danced around wildly, seemingly happy to be home as well. A horn echoed through the dying trees, sounding out to announce their arrival. There were Dwellers scattered throughout the area; some sat on the limbs of the trees, while others were sitting around small fires. Every one of them eyed Sorin and his friends curiously.

  They approached a group of proud-looking men, and Mavka grabbed the hand of the tallest one. His skin was a green pigment like hers, but his hair was short, the color of bark. He too had blue tattoos coating his arms and legs; they depicted scenes of battle and magical creatures that he had faced over the ages.

  Sorin bowed his head to the tall Forest Dweller whom he suspected was their leader. The man tilted his head to the side in response, as if curious as to what Sorin was doing. He was much taller than Mavka, with the same strong, winding horns as the Dweller they had found sacrificed at the Nefari camp only a few days earlier. His horns were like the bark on the ancient trees in the Raven Wood, with intricate blue runes winding around them. Sorin was fascinated and had endless questions about the clan and its people, but they would have to wait.

  Mavka had to stand on her tippy toes to whisper to the curious man. “It is their way of greeting, Dadaí.” She covered a smile with her hand.

  “Ah.” His voice was like gravel as he laughed. “Welcome, King Sorin. Forgive my confusion. It has been many a decade since I last met with a King of Asterion—a distant relative of yours if my memory serves me right.” He paused before introducing himself. “I am Einar, Chief of the Highland Clan.”

  Sorin hid his shock at the realization of how old the man standing before him must be. He had known that the stronger Magi, and creatures who wielded similar powers, could live exceptionally long lives, but this man must have been hundreds of years old. Yet he did not look a day over thirty.

  “It is an honor to be here, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “Yes, the trees have kept us well informed of the events that have led us all here on this day. My daughter has been diligent in sending word of you all. She says that you are her friends. I have always trusted her judgment, so I will trust her now as she calls for help on your behalf.”

  “Thank you, sir, I will not forget this.”

  “See to it that you don’t.” Chief Einar gestured for them to enter the Highland village. Sorin had not yet had the chance to visit the different clans in the Raven Wood, but from his studies he knew that it was comprised of several territories. Each with its own chief.

  Chief Einar’s village was unlike any other Sorin had ever seen in Asterion: sturdy, moss-covered bungalows were built strategically around the clearing. Sorin was impressed with the Dwellers’ resourcefulness, and he found himself wondering if one day he might be able to discuss more than war with the leader of this clan.

  Once inside of a large vine-covered structure that centered the Dwellers’ camp, Sorin and the others took up seats around a small fire. The bungalow was warm and sweat began to bead on Sorin’s brow. Mavka’s father, Chief Einar, sat unphased by the stuffy air in the room. He passed Sorin a cup filled with a liquid Sorin did not recognize.

  “King Sorin, if you will?”

  Sorin took a sip of the bitter drink, and began to tell the Dwellers who had crowded into the room everything he and his friends had come to know up to this point. The men and women around the hut did not seem surprised by any of it. They nodded in silent understanding, some donning fierce expressions. It seemed that they were ready for a fight, and Sorin was glad of it.

  “How many men... er... Forest Dwellers and creatures, do you think we can muster?”

  Chief Einar thought for a moment and scratched at the base of his horns. The advisor sitting beside him leaned forward and whispered into his ear. Chief Einar nodded in response and spoke with confidence. “There are seven clans within this forest. We believe that, with some convincing, every one of them will stand with us. With them by your side, the magical creatures of the Raven Wood will follow as well.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out onto the fire before them.

  Smokey figures rose in the shapes of Naga, Fenrir, and even Fairies. They filled the air in the form of smoke and danced all around them. Chief Einar continued, “Ever since the Nefari entered the Raven Wood, they have fed on the magic of the land and the blood of its creatures.” As Chief Einar spoke, new figures rose and morphed into tall, hooded men. Black smoke shot from the hooded figures’ hands and into the defenseless smokey creatures who had risen first.

  Chief Einar continued. “This has depleted Asterion’s power a
nd has created a dark curse—or as you refer to it, a blight. It has been driving prey from the woods, leaving predators with nothing to hunt. It has crept into the very soil of our lands, leaving us nothing to grow and nothing to gather for food. From here, it can only get worse.”

  Sorin remained quiet as he watched the smokey figures fade into the air, leaving only the smoldering fire in front of him. Chief Einar stood as he spoke again. “So, we will stand with you, Sorin, King of Asterion. We will give you our allegiance, but only if you do the same for us.”

  Sorin stood now too. “It would be my honor, sir.”

  Chief Einar eyed Sorin carefully. “Words come easily to mortal men. It will be your actions, once this is all over, that will prove whether you are as worthy as we hope you to be.”

  Sorin nodded, determined to prove his worthiness, no matter what it took.

  Chief Einar sat back down in his seat and gestured for Sorin to do the same. He poured himself a drink. “Now, there is the matter of the girl.”

  Sorin’s breath caught in his throat. “Shaye. The girl is named Shaye.”

  “She is dangerous. From what you have just told us, she has tapped into dark magic herself. She attacked you with that magic and yet you still wish to save her?”

  “We will save her.”

  The atmosphere in the room grew tense. Forest Dwellers eyed Sorin and Bron, wary of the mortal men who sat armed in their presence. Sorin did not mean any disrespect, but he also would not waiver on this. Saving Shaye was non-negotiable.

  “And if she is too far gone? Too consumed by the darkness she has allowed into her heart and soul... What then?”

  “No one is beyond redemption.” Sorin balled his hands into fists in his lap. He did not like what the Chief was insinuating.

  “King Sorin, I have been around long enough to know that vengeance is a feeling not easily dealt with. They now have both pieces of the Stave, the relic that has the ability to enhance magical power. They will not make the mistake of parting with it again and risking it falling back into your hands. With the Stave whole again, and a Druid to wield it, they will be more powerful than ever before.”