Legend Warrior

by Liara Woo

  Katie felt a tremor race through her as, moments later, the ground fell away from her. What if it's all destroyed?

  Soon they could see for hundreds of miles all around. Only a few leagues south, fires were blazing and forests were dying. Small villages were burned to the ground, with the surviving elves evacuating; from up high they were visible only as a miniscule line of light. The demons returning to Kratchene from Liandres were rejoining other groups of demons coming victorious from separate villages, which were now in flames. Survivors were few, and they were all heading east—towards Velana.

  Joran stared, his eyes wide and filling with tears. Relenthus didn't look any better, and tears already streamed from his eyes. Both looked heartbroken.

  "My home," Joran breathed. "It's…dying."

  "There's still hope, Joran," Katie whispered encouragingly. "I'll go to the griffins and get the Sword of Light. The unicorns are coming to help us. We still have a chance."

  Joran bowed his head, his eyes closed. After a while he said in a surprisingly firm voice, "Loriina, go back and get Halthren. Then take us to Velana."

  "I will," Loriina answered in a solemn yet confident voice, and she carved an arc through the sky and flew back down.

  Parting Ways

  Parting Ways

  "My prince!" a familiar voice called as Loriina landed on the roof of Lord Bloodthorne's mansion a few days later. Katie instantly recognized the elf approaching them.

  "Firdin," Joran greeted, sliding to the ground. "How are you?"

  "I'm recovering quite well," he answered with a shrug, referring to the injury sustained to his leg during the Battle of Velana. He turned to look at the others, specifically Halthren, who was barely conscious and leaning heavily on his sword and Katie's shoulder, his eyes half-closed form exhaustion. The scant rags he wore were stained red from blood in most places. "Again?" Firdin muttered. "Why am I not surprised? Would one of you get Aspeniel?"

  "I'll go," Relenthus volunteered, dismounting the dragon's back and running off with a slight limp.

  "Lord Bloodthorne told me everything," Firdin said. "Did you find the unicorns? And did they heal you?"

  Joran shook his head. "We found them, but they—their king in particular—wanted to kill us. Halthren saved us."

  Firdin tilted his head and looked at the wounded elf uncertainly. "How?"

  "The star of Kylaras's spirit came to him and gave him the power to go into the Dream Kingdom and back out, so he went in after me and saved me. After that, when the Shape-Shifter attacked us, Halthren killed him."

  Firdin inhaled sharply. "So that's it? The war is over? Nashgor is dead?"

  "No," Katie cut in unhappily. "Nashgor created two mindless henchmen to further Its will. One of them was the Shape-Shifter, and the other is the demon king. Nashgor Itself is the Shadow Lord. It can only be destroyed if Its two 'puppets' are killed. Halthren killed the Shape-Shifter; the demon king remains."

  "The Shadow Lord can only be killed by the Sword of Light," Halthren said in a faint, dazed voice. "The griffins are the only ones who know where it lies hidden, and only a child of Earth may wield it."

  "Don't speak," Joran said gently. "Save your strength." Turning to Firdin, he continued, "Tell Lord Bloodthorne to send word to all surviving villages. I need all elves still able to fight to gather here. When they arrive, we shall march for Kratchene."

  Firdin's jaw dropped. "An open attack?! But that's suicide!"

  "I'll challenge the demon king to single combat," Joran said solemnly.

  Halthren's eyes widened in horror. "N-no, Joran!" he exclaimed. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs gave out and he fell heavily to his knees. Katie knelt beside him, worried.

  Joran looked at them. "The demon king can be killed by an ordinary blade. I must try."

  "Joran…" Katie began. "You've changed. Ever since you returned from the Dream Kingdom you've been a good deal more…more kingly." She'd been noticing it for a while; subtle differences in how he spoke and acted.

  Joran met Firdin's gaze. "There is no changing who I am. I am the son of the king, and heir to the throne of Kylaras. I must be what this land needs me to be."

  Firdin looked at him in awe. "You are more like your father than you realize," he stated solemnly. "I…I will go immediately to Lord Bloodthorne."

  "Good," Joran said. Katie stared at him; the authoritative voice he spoke in was something she'd never heard before.

  "How…?" she began.

  Joran looked at her gravely, his eyes filled with sadness. "The sight of Kylaras's destruction was enough to make me…grow up, I suppose. Katie, I want you to get on Loriina's back and leave immediately to see the griffins. We're nearly out of time. You must hurry."

  Katie took a deep breath and let it out. "I will." She turned to climb back up the dragon's back, but she paused, looking into Halthren's silver-blue eyes. "I…I wish you could come with me," she asked softly, reaching up and putting one hand on his pale cheek, which was damp with sweat. Halthren gave her a small, gentle smile.

  "Thanks," he whispered hoarsely.

  "That isn't a bad idea," Joran said. "You know the legends, Halthren. You know a lot of things about the griffins and the other inhabitants of that side of the world that no one else would know. But…" A note of deep concern and brotherly love slipped into his voice. "I don't want you to get hurt."

  At that moment Relenthus emerged with Aspeniel. Katie blinked, still not entirely accustomed to the blue-green skin. The naiad took one look at Halthren and said, "You got your Light back. How?"

  "Kylaras gave it to me. Er…the star of Kylaras, not the country," he answered weakly.

  Aspeniel glared suspiciously at him and then reached into her satchel and pulled out a small vial of purple potion. "Take this, then. It's a bit fresher than the other potion, so it should heal most of your hurts…not your left arm, though. That's too mangled for any potion or magic to heal." She shoved it into his good hand and turned to Katie, handing her the satchel. "You'll find a few potions in there, but remember—they lose their potency for every day they're out of the cauldron. There're also several large skins of water and a few loaves of bread enchanted to stay fresh. You'll need it for your journey; Relenthus told me about it." She turned away and walked back down the trapdoor staircase.

  Halthren quickly drank the potion, but Aspeniel had been right. It healed all of his other injuries, but his broken arm remained unchanged. Much to his surprise, his ankle remained red and swollen, and his bare toes were still broken. His broken ribs continued to feel sore and bruised.

  Relenthus shook his head sympathetically. "I'll wrap your arm in a sling. And I can make a quick salve to lessen the swelling in your ankle."

  "Thanks," Halthren said. Already there was more strength in his voice. Katie searched in the large satchel and produced a tunic, cloak, leather boots, and leggings, all various shades of brown and green.

  "Here," she said, handing them to Halthren. "I'll go back down for a moment and give you some privacy." She turned and walked through the trapdoor, sitting down on one of the stairs. Loriina took flight, enjoying the warm, thermal drafts above the city. Joran followed Katie, sitting beside her. She looked anxiously at him. "Don't die," she begged. "Be careful when you're fighting the demon king."

  Joran patted her shoulder. "Thanks for not making me feel bad about it."

  Katie shrugged. "You've made up your mind, and I think it's the right thing to do. But that doesn't mean I'm happy with it. So…good luck."

  "You, too," Joran smiled. "Take care of Halthren, alright? Perhaps you can break his habit of getting torn to shreds."

  Katie smiled. "I'll try."

  "Ready?" Loriina asked as she walked down the stairs to get them. "Goodbyes make me nervous. We should leave now, before anyone shows up to comment on how brave we are and all the danger we'll face and how positively heroic we're being and all that."

  Katie laughed uneasily. "I'd rather not think about the danger."r />
  Loriina grinned. "Dragons like danger. Seriously, though, can we get going?" Loriina was already walking back up the stairs by the time Katie looked back. She was definitely eager to leave. "I'll see you later, Joran," she said, walking up the stairs and over to Loriina, who was once more in dragon form. Relenthus was helping Halthren get onto her back; Katie began to climb up after him.

  "Wait," Relenthus said. "Halthren, I…I wanted to apologize for being unkind to you. I was jealous. That was wrong of me, and I want to say that I don't have any hard feelings for you anymore. I'm sorry for all the words I said to deride you. I truly regret them."

  Halthren smiled warmly. "You're forgiven. Thank you."

  Relenthus grinned back. He reached up and handed Halthren a long, ornately carved wooden staff. "When I fetched Aspeniel I ran into Lord Bloodthorne and explained the situation. He gave this to me for you. It'll help you walk until your ankle's healed." He paused briefly, gazing towards the south. Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon. "Hurry. When you return, we will not look for beacons to be lit to signal your return. Come back to us as stealthily as you can, and when Nashgor is vanquished we will feel it in our hearts."

  "You both have swords, right?" Joran checked. Halthren responded by drawing the Sword of the Great Elves.

  Katie looked down at her waist, right where a sword would have hung. With a jolt, she realized that she was unarmed. "Well…no, actually."

  "I'll protect you," Halthren volunteered. Katie exchanged a glance with Joran and knew that they were thinking the same thing: it was Halthren who needed protection, not Katie.

  Loriina turned her head to face her passengers. "No need for that. We'll stop at my forge. I can make you a sword."

  Katie felt a rush of gratitude. "Thanks!"

  Loriina faced forward and looked to the east, towards the rising sun. "Look out, griffins," she said softly. "Here we come."

  * * *

  The Dark Lands were changing. The black sky grew even darker; the burning orange of the volcanoes glowed brighter. The demon king sensed that his master, Nashgor, was strangely pleased about something. It had finally succeeded in crafting a weapon powerful enough to thwart the protection of the stars and finally defeat Its nemesis: Halthren Legendheart. Now all that It needed was a little touch of Earthling magic, and Halthren would be condemned to a week-long, agonizing death with no escape.

  The Earthling was dangerous, of course, and now that she knew the secret to defeating It, she was even more dangerous, but if Halthren were taken down then she would never learn where to begin searching for the Sword of Light. So…all that needed to happen was for Halthren to be abducted and taken back to Kratchene.

  The demon king, who used the name of his master, Nashgor, as his own, paced ferociously on the rim of the volcano. He had felt in his cold, shriveled heart that Nashgor's second puppet—the shape shifter—had been killed by that nasty, meddling, legend-obsessed elfling. He, too, was glad that Halthren could now be defeated.

  He studied his hand: three fingers and a thumb covered in black scales, with sharp black talons in place of fingernails. His golden yellow eyes gleamed, and his dragon-like nostrils flared. An impatient growl rumbled in his throat. "Kor!" he roared, his rotting teeth bared.

  The demon by the name of Kor approached him hesitantly. "What is your bidding, sire?" he hissed.

  "What news from our source?" Nashgor the demon king growled.

  "The Earthling and the elves' dragon are going to the griffins, seeking the whereabouts of a magical sword. They are accompanied by Fin—"

  "Do not speak his name!" Nashgor roared, punching the demon's square face with all of his might. The monster fell to the ground, dead. Nashgor snorted and kicked the body into the volcano. Then he laughed. They're going to the griffins, eh? So, they seek the Sword of Light. They will never succeed. My Master and I will see to that.

  He stormed down the barren, rocky mountainside—a hike that would have taken an hour for an elf—and in less than fifteen minutes he had reached the demon camp situated in the foothills of the volcano. He called another of his warriors, named Berg, to his side. "Have the giant vultures agreed to join us?" he asked with a cruel smile. For almost a year, the demon forces had relinquished food from the vultures. In desperation, the giant carrion-eaters had agreed to meet with demonic ambassadors that had hopefully convinced them to join the Dark Armies.

  Berg grinned crookedly. His eyes were permanently crossed, and he always looked on the verge of insanity. "Yes, my king."

  "Is that how you address me?" Nashgor the demon king was incredibly vain.

  "I—I meant to say, yes, your Most High Exaltedness King Majesty."

  It sounded made up, but it put enough kingly titles into one sentence that Nashgor was satisfied. He proceeded to command, "Pick ten demons, including Blacknack, and ten vultures to go after the dragon. My master, the Shadow Lord, wishes to speak with the girl; kill the dragon if you can but leave the elf alive and bring him to me. I want him to pay dearly for what he has done before I hand him over to my Master…he murdered the Shape-Shifter! Before he leaves, have Blacknack prepare my torture devices. All of them."

  "Yes, King Of All That Is Mighty And Powerful And Violent." Berg bowed low and went to fetch the vultures. Inwardly he hoped that he would get to lead the hunt and be known throughout Kratchene as the demon who brought Halthren Legendheart to his demise. He cackled mischievously and felt brutal joy fill his Dark heart.

  Loriina

  Loriina's Lair

  As the brightness of the sun on her face slowly brought Katie back to full consciousness, she awakened to a low moan of anguish. She sat bolt upright on the beach, expecting to see some terrible monster attacking her companions, to see her friends near death and bleeding.

  But Loriina was sound asleep, a small, peaceful smile on her reptilian face. Halthren was lying on his back a few feet away, pain and terror written on his face. He was drenched in sweat, and his eyelids were fluttering.

  He's having a nightmare, Katie realized, pity filling her heart. She walked over to him and knelt at his side, gently shaking his shoulder. "Halthren," she murmured. He didn't awaken, so she shook him again, a little harder. His eyes flew open, full of raw fear, and he gasped when he saw her. "It's okay," Katie told him. "You just had a bad dream."

  "It wasn't a dream," he said shakily. "It was f-far too real to be a dream…The Shape Shifter…and the Dark knife…"

  Katie could tell that he was scared stiff. "Well…it's alright now. The Shape-Shifter's gone, remember? You killed him. Come on; we have to get to the griffins." She gently touched his shoulder and helped him sit up.

  Halthren stood with the aid of the staff Relenthus had given him. Three days had passed, and his ankle was definitely healing, but his broken toes were taking a bit longer. He struggled to brush white sand off of himself, clamping his staff beneath his armpit and patting himself with his one good hand. "About that…perhaps we should stay in Dralantia for a while longer…" he murmured hesitantly.

  Katie's concern for him grew. "That's crazy. We have to hurry! Joran is going to fight the demon king! We have to get back in time to help him."

  "Well…what if we can get the dragons on our side?" Halthren asked meekly. "Before Nashgor wins them over and we have to fight them."

  Katie froze with the thought. If dragons joined the demons…it would spell the death of the elves and all things good. A shiver went down her spine. And if we got the dragons to fight for us, we'd win every battle…

  Halthren at last met her eyes and took her hands in his own. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you…"

  "It's alright," she said quickly. "We just have to get the Sword of Light first. Perhaps on our way back to Kylaras we can see the king of dragons and talk to him about it."

  Panic flitted across the elf's fair face for an instance. Katie gave him a quizzical glance. What's wrong with him? He's never been so…so…terrified. She held his slender hands tightly. "Halthr
en…are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," he whispered. "It was just a nightmare. I have them…frequently."

  His tone said that he was everything but 'fine'. "Okay," Katie responded doubtfully, walking over to the silver-blue dragon sleeping peacefully in the sand. Her feet sank slightly in the soft white sand. She rested her hand on Loriina's large, scaly cheek and leaned down to whisper in her cavernous ear. "Loriina, wake up. We need to keep going."

  Loriina's emerald eyes groggily blinked open as she yawned, baring her long white teeth. Her forked pink tongue lolled and a rush of the worst morning breath Katie had ever smelled escaped her jaws. Katie backed away several paces as the dragon licked her lips and got to her feet, a disgruntled expression on her face. "I hate beaches. Have I mentioned that the sand gets stuck in between my scales and itches up a storm?" she asked as she scratched at her shoulders. "Come, little griffin seekers. Time to fly."