Legend Warrior

by Liara Woo

  "How do you know?" Katie asked.

  "When they were training me, they would demonstrate by mock-fighting each other. No matter how hard and deviously Nelaara would fight, Halthren always won. But somehow in battle he can't seem to escape unscathed, even though his skill greatly exceeds the skills of demons."

  Katie smiled briefly despite the battle ahead. Then a thought crossed her mind, sitting uneasily in her stomach like vomit, and she couldn't help but say it aloud. "Does she…love…Halthren?"

  Joran forced another laugh as he jumped lightly over a fallen log in perfect syncopation with the stag Katie rode. "She's more than three thousand years older than he is. If she has love for him, then it's the same love that a mother would have for a son. In fact, she kind of is his mother. When he arrived at the castle, half-dead from starvation, Nelaara was the first to take him in. Before she took him to my father, she brought him to her own quarters and gave him food and water and clothing to replace the rags that he wore. She's cared for him ever since."

  Katie didn't respond. She didn't really know what to say.

  "We stop here," the stag announced, abruptly ending his silence and trotting to a gradual stop.

  Joran nodded and gave a brief bow to the animal. "Let's go, Katie. We cannot ask him to go any closer to danger on my behalf. We'll approach the battle, survey the situation, and then jump in. I trust you to cover me long enough to let me get to Nelaara."

  Katie nodded confidently. "What does she look like?"

  "Lots of armor, a longbow and quiver of arrows, two huge swords," he replied. "They make Rune's sword look like a short knife." He reached up, and Katie yelped in surprise as he grasped her waist and hoisted her down from the stag's back.

  "Your Highness," the snowy white creature grunted, lowering his head almost all the way to the ground.

  "Thank you for your services," Joran acknowledged, dipping his head in response. The stag seemed to shrug; then he turned and bounded in the opposite direction, and Joran turned back to Katie. "Ready?"

  She took a breath. She had no desire to go back into battle. The last time she'd done so, she'd killed several unicorns with barely a thought. She hadn't meant to, but it had happened anyway. What kind of monster am I being transformed into? she wondered, not for the first time, devastated.

  And the time before that, she'd almost died. Memories flooded her mind, of fear, pain, and the shock of actually killing something. At least she'd been with Halthren for most of it—somehow, despite the fact he always got hurt, he made her feel safe and protected. Although she knew that this time, she'd be fighting from a distance and wouldn't have to enter the fray, she was nervous and didn't like the idea of being alone.

  "Katie?"

  She looked up into Joran's blue-green eyes, so full of care and compassion. Suddenly her eyes watered, and she looked down, at the grass growing up from the ground and the small aphids devouring it. "This war… it's… changing me, Joran. I… I'm actually killing… people. Real, living, breathing, thinking, feeling beings. Even if all they feel is hatred and anger, they're still… they're still people. I… I've taken the lives of so many now, I've lost count. It's eating me up; I can't stand it, but… but I still have to do it…it hurts, it's wrong, and it makes me feel like a monster, and…"

  Gentle arms wrapped around her shoulders and she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Feeling empty and miserable, she sobbed, her shoulders shaking as she clung to Joran. Tenderly he stroked her hair, holding her close, letting her cry. Her tears soaked through his tunic; she felt her knees wobbling and knew she would have fallen if Joran hadn't been holding her up. The only things in her mind were the faces of the dead—demons with snarls and grimaces forever plastered on their dragon-like faces, unicorns waking up from a strange, cold slumber only to be fried by electricity moments later. The expressions on their faces had been confused and full of pain.

  "No good person likes to kill," Joran murmured into her ear. "The very fact that you're feeling badly about it means that the war isn't changing you as much as you think. It means you're still good. You aren't a villain here; you're a hero. Well, a heroine. Don't dwell on the dead. Focus instead on those who live because of your actions. I wouldn't be here without. Nor would Relenthus, Halthren, or even Loriina. You saved thousands at the Battle of Velana. Let their faces enter your mind… envision their wonder and amazement, their gratitude, for your actions."

  She looked up at him and was shocked to see sadness in his eyes. He held her shoulders and looked intently at her. "I'm so sorry, Katie. I don't think my words can convey my regret. You're my friend. You've done more for me than I ever could have asked. And all I did in exchange was bring you to a world where you'd have to face more violence and death than anyone should ever have to experience. Katie, I'm so sorry."

  Fresh tears and a wave of homesickness washed over her. I want my Mom, she thought mournfully. She'd know what to do—she always does. And Dad… he'd be able to make me smile.

  A new thought entered her mind, bringing her strength. They'd want me to do what was right, no matter what. Killing isn't right… but letting the entire world fall under evil is worse. Protecting the elves is the right thing to do.

  She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and nodded. "I'm ready," she said in a tremoring voice.

  Joran squeezed her hand, regret still evident in his face. "Then let's go."

  Together they walked swiftly through the sunny forest, which seemed to be entirely unaware of the war going on. The green of the grass and the leaves of trees was as vibrant as ever; wildflowers gathered in colorful clumps in patches of sunshine, cheerful as ever. The sight of them, refusing to let go of their joy even in the face of death, of the demons only a hundred yards away, strengthened Katie. She took a deep breath and vowed to be more like them, firm and optimistic.

  Joran stopped at a tall pine and began to climb. The sounds of battle were barely muffled; the clanks of metal on metal and shouts of anger and pain were crystal clear through the five or six trees separating them from the conflict. Katie's stomach tightened, but she forced an image of the flowers in sunlight to her mind and followed Joran up the tree.

  She grabbed a branch above her head, pulling herself up while lifting one foot and placing it on a higher limb. Gradually she reached the crown of the pine tree and lifted her head over the topmost branches. Looking down, she saw in the midst of the trees a vast plain, in the heart of which was a small village surrounded by wooden walls that were now on fire. Demons encircled it, manning several catapults and storming through the gates. Elves clad in shining white armor were fighting valiantly, although they were brutally outnumbered—as always. Several of them were crouched on rooftops, armed with longbows and shooting at their attackers. In the midst of the demons was an elf without a helmet, armed with two massive blades—one in each hand. There was a long white bow across her back, and her red and blonde hair could be seen even from a distance; she was cutting down demons as if she were merely taking a scythe to stalks of wheat. Katie's eyes widened in awe. "I'm guessing that's Nelaara."

  Joran nodded. "That's her. Do you think you can cover me?"

  Katie surveyed the battle. What weapon should she use? Fire, ice, dirt…but from such a great distance, each of those could inadvertently harm Joran. She could call a storm or lightning, perhaps, but again they could accidently hurt elves, especially from this distance. And there was still the matter of actually killing more demons—No. Think of the flowers. Be strong. "Yeah, I can handle it," she replied uncertainly.

  "Thanks," Joran said, and to Katie's horror he jumped out of the oak tree and tumbled to the ground—but he landed lightly on the ground and ran off through the forest.

  A chill went through Katie's heart. "I don't have a plan," she whispered. "I'll get him killed!" As fast as she dared she climbed back down the tree and raced to the edge of the field, scurrying up another tree—a cherry tree. From the top she could see the entire battle spread out before her; she s
aw Joran running out onto the plain towards the horde of demons. He completely trusts me to keep him safe, she realized in shock.

  Several demons were racing to meet him, their black axes raised. "Celed Vorello!" she shouted, raising her hand and calling lightning down on the beasts, sending them to the ground either dead or unconscious. Joran kept running, but the demons were too close! If she used lightning he'd be killed! Biting her lip, Katie pulled out of the ground a massive dirt beast and mentally commanded it to keep Joran safe. Then she could only watch and trust in her magical construction.

  Suddenly there was a deafening roar. Katie looked up to see Loriina soaring over the field with Relenthus sitting on her back. She could have laughed in relied; the young dragon flew low, lifting up demons in her paws and throwing them aside. Then she landed, and Relenthus leaped off of her back and charged into battle, Halthren's sword grasped in his hand.

  Joran arrived beside Nelaara. The fierce elven warrior tossed him a sword, and he leaped into the horde of demons. Now I have to join them, Katie told herself. Think of the flowers.

  Quickly she climbed down from the tree and ran onto the field, ready to call down lightning if a demon approached her. Or I could shoot fire out of my hand, she thought, thinking of the ice she'd used to freeze Rune.

  She raced into the battle, torching several demons trying to kill an elf who was bleeding heavily from a gash in his back. Then she spun and dodged an attack from behind, bringing up a mound of dirt to cover her opponent. After that she realized that it wasn't only dragon elements that she could shoot from her fingertips. She could also fire lightning, as the demons closest to her soon learned.

  Meanwhile Loriina flew above the battle, occasionally landing on the catapults and tearing them apart, leaving behind a pile of splintered wood. Relenthus was fighting like a lion despite having been beaten and whipped, and no demon could survive him for long. But the Sword of the Great Elves wasn't nearly as powerful as it was in the hands of Halthren. When Halthren held it in the unicorns' realm, he seemed to move faster than the normal eye could catch; all of his blows were deadly and whatever wounds he had couldn't slow him down. Relenthus was moving at a normal speed, slightly hindered by his wounds, and none of his blows killed immediately. Joran fought side by side with Nelaara, his blue-green eyes burning with fury. Each stroke of his borrowed sword was fatal.

  "Retreat!" one of the demons roared. Katie could tell that he was a commander since he wore a unique cone-shaped helmet with a vulture's feather sticking out of the top. The demons turned tail and ran, crashing through the bracken and into the forest, heading south. Instantly the elves stopped fighting and let their enemy flee unhindered.

  Katie helped a badly wounded elf to his feet, letting him lean on her shoulder as she helped him over to Joran and Nelaara. Katie's eyes widened in amazement when she saw the she-warrior up close; in addition to being insurmountably beautiful her eyes were so vividly blue that the sky seemed dull.

  Joran grinned. "Good, you're safe. Thanks for helping me."

  Katie smiled at him. "It's becoming a habit," she said as Nelaara gently helped the wounded elf lie down; quickly she set to work bandaging his injuries with strips from the hem of her russet-colored tunic. Almost instantly he fell unconscious.

  "Well…I brought the dragon," Relenthus said as he and Loriina approached them.

  Nelaara nodded. "I can see that. Thank you; you've saved us from certain destruction. But—" she gave Joran an annoyed look— "why did you have only one sword between you?"

  The three of them exchanged looks of apprehension. "It's a long story," Katie began, feeling unenthusiastic about telling the long tale of Joran's imprisonment in the Dream Kingdom, the journey across the Ocean of Storms, and the unicorns.

  "We'll tell you later," Joran said quickly. "Nelaara, I know that this is right after an attack, but my friend is terribly wounded and we must get him to a healer."

  Nelaara sighed. She knelt down beside the wounded elf on the ground and tenderly stroked his pale cheek. Blood already soaked through the makeshift bandages on his chest and arms. "Look around this field, Joran. Many have died. Even more have been injured. Most of the wounds are fatal, even though we have three dryads working to help us."

  "Three? How can you stand them?" Relenthus asked, shaking his head.

  Nelaara chuckled bitterly. "With a great deal of patience. Dryads don't understand compassion, despite their skills with healing. One mistake or imperfection and that's all it takes—they hate you for life."

  So that was why Aspeniel disliked Halthren so much. He had no Light—an imperfection in her eyes. But not in mine…Katie thought with a faint smile.

  "At least they're willing to help," Joran sighed. "Is there no way you can help Halthren?"

  Nelaara's brow furrowed with worry. "So he's this wounded friend of yours? What's gotten him this time?"

  Katie blinked, remembering the words of the librarian in Velana. "So this really is a recurring thing?"

  Nelaara smiled sadly at her. "Oh, yes. Halthren Legendheart is renowned for getting into deadly situations. When he had hardly begun his battle training, he somehow managed to wind up an actual battle. He nearly lost his life then."

  Katie blinked at the name 'Legendheart.' Somehow, when Nelaara said it, something was triggered in the back of her memory—something about the prophecy Starling had told her about weeks ago. It had something to do with Legendheart—with Halthren, she was certain—but she couldn't remember.

  Relenthus smirked. "And after that, when he was in a school group travelling to the coast, they were attacked. Halthren was the only one among them with a sword and the proper training, so he single-handedly fought off twenty demons. He paid for it with almost all of his blood."

  Joran shook his head in exasperation. "The first time I was to have a sword fighting lesson, he wasn't there because he was being rushed to the healing room in the castle after a demon assassin tried to take him. The assassin was the worst off, since he was dead, but Halthren wasn't much better. He was shot by a poisoned arrow, and his right leg almost had to be amputated."

  Katie's eyes widened. "Why do these things always happen to him?"

  Nelaara looked into Katie's eyes for a long moment. Her eyes seemed to pierce directly into her soul. "There is a curse," she sighed. "Know this: I have told no one about the curse before, but now I feel that the time is right for it to be revealed. Not long after I had taken Halthren in, a black shadow stole into his bedroom and tried to kill him. He awoke with a start, of course, and when he screamed I came running. The shadow couldn't kill Halthren because, since birth, he had been chosen by the Great Elves for some great destiny. They protect him from being killed by Darkness, and that's why he has the silver in his eyes.

  "Anyway, I got to him in time to hear a terrible Dark chant. The words I will not utter here, for they were very evil and cruel, but they cursed Halthren. Cursed him to be followed everywhere he went by injury and pain. The curse would be broken only when he found true love given by someone of another world."

  Katie blinked. "How terrible," she said, but her insides were fluttering excitedly. Another world? I'm from another world! Maybe I'm supposed to break the curse! "Does…does he know how to free himself?"

  Nelaara shook her head. "He was cursed to forget. And… though I've told you how to cure him, I ask you not to give this information to him just yet. The time is not right." She paused for a moment, sighing deeply. "So what was it this time?" she asked.

  "Unicorns," Relenthus winced. "A hundred of them at once. We would have gone to help him, but he was the only one with a sword, and the ceiling was about to cave in…"

  Nelaara frowned. "Oh, for goodness' sake. You had to fly all the way here from wherever the unicorns are? Halthren hates heights."

  Joran exhaled, looking annoyed. "Yes, and I'm sure he'll thank you when he finds out that everyone here knows his worst fear and his greatest secret," he said sarcastically.

  "I alrea
dy knew about the heights thing," Loriina said.

  Katie blushed. "I kind of guessed," she added.

  "I didn't know," Relenthus admitted. "But now that I do, a lot of his behavior while flying makes sense."

  "Well, anyway," Joran continued, still irritated, "can you do anything to help him?"

  Sadness enveloped Nelaara's fair face. "I wish I could. But I can't. I really am sorry." Her voice sounded more than sorry. Joran's shoulders sagged as she knelt to help the wounded elf again. Katie laid a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him away.

  "So where do we go now?" she asked hesitantly.

  Joran was silent for several moments as he pulled himself up behind Loriina's shoulder blades before he answered her. "Wherever we go, we may be faced with the same problem," he deduced, reaching down to help her up after him. "This is the northernmost village in the country. To arrive here in such great numbers, the demons were either incredibly stealthy…or they caused a lot of destruction. Loriina, take us up as high as you can without causing us to lose consciousness."