Soldiers of Legend

by Stephen L. Nowland

  As the dust cleared, Aiden held his sword aloft to shed its light and saw a vast, circular chamber extending beyond his sight. Alcoves twice the size of a man were cut into the wall at regular intervals and lines of metal ran along the walls like shining veins. Metal fragments were scattered over the floor, through the middle of which ran a large crack, glowing with a white light shining from beneath.

  “Now this is more like it,” Aiden breathed as he walked into the chamber, noticing a metal block four feet high in the centre of the room. Moving cautiously towards it, he saw the alcoves within the range of his light contained metal pieces of what could only be golems, shaped as they were to resemble legs and arms. “This must be where they built their constructs,” he mused thoughtfully, taking a closer look at the pile within one alcove.

  “Don’t get too close,” Robert warned as the rest followed him in. “We don’t know if something’s going to wake up and rip your face off.”

  “This place is long dead,” Aiden assured him, crouching down to peer at the solid metal foot of a golem, unattached to the rest of its body.

  “There is something at the far end of the chamber,” Nellise called, having walked along with Pacian through the middle of the room.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” Aiden said, taking one last look at the various components lying around, before continuing towards the centre of the room to investigate the metal block. He was not surprised to find more language on the top, similar to the sigils he had seen on the type of generator he’d encountered several times before.

  Aiden instantly recognized the glyph that would activate the relic, but upon touching it, found it was just as dead as the rest of this place. Whatever power had been used to operate this entire edifice had long since vanished.

  “We’ve found little else of interest back there,” Criosa called as she and Sayana entered the chamber. “Oh my… this is more like it,” she added in awe upon viewing the vast chamber. Next to her, the sorceress began to glow faintly, much as she did in the presence of the baron’s cursed amulet.

  “Not again,” she muttered. “I’m going to wait out in the hall.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Aiden nodded, glancing at the glowing crack in the floor. “This light probably has the same properties as the amulet.”

  “That might explain why the water here is contaminated,” Criosa suggested, but was interrupted by Nellise from across the room.

  “Come and look at this, we’ve found something interesting,” she called, prompting them all to hurry over and see what she had found. Nellise and Pacian were standing before one of the alcoves, which appeared to be completely empty. As he drew closer, Aiden could see why — the floor in the alcove had crumbled away, revealing a rocky chasm leading straight down, far beyond the range of their lights.

  “That’s quite a drop,” Nellise remarked, her hair tousled by the mournful wind that blew from below. She then pointed at some language on the wall next to her. “Do these seem at all familiar?” Aiden took a closer look and felt his chest tighten as he recognized the symbol of the Ironlord in amongst the words. As he glanced around the alcove, the symbol took on greater meaning, and his quick mind put it all together.

  “It was here,” he exclaimed in sudden understanding. “This is where the Ironlord was resting, long ago.”

  “How can you know that?” Pacian said.

  “I’ve seen it up close all too often, thanks to the dreams I shared with Salinder,” Aiden explained. “It would fit inside this alcove perfectly, and some of this iconography suggests this is where it would regenerate when it was not out obliterating cities. In essence, this is the Ironlord’s throne room.”

  Nobody spoke as the implications of that statement sank in, and his companions looked around at the chamber in a new light. Spurred on by this discovery, Aiden held his sword forward, illuminating the alcove as best as he could manage. If there was anything further to learn on these walls, he couldn’t tell. If the place still had power, they might be able to find out more, but where was he going to find more power?

  “Damn, I’m an idiot sometimes,” Aiden muttered to himself as he pulled out the small box containing the amulet. He rushed back over to the central relic and started feeling around for some sort of hatch. A few moments later, he was rewarded as part of the side flipped open, revealing an identical amulet set into a small mounting of the same dimensions. The amulet within didn’t glow at all in Aiden’s sight, hardly surprising since the control appeared to be inactive.

  He carefully took out the old amulet and placed his own inside it, then closed the hatch. Returning to the front of the device, he saw a faint red glow from one of the glyphs and touched it with his hand. The entire chamber was suddenly lit in a cold white light, forcing Aiden to cover his eyes momentarily at the sudden brilliance.

  “You might have warned us,” Pacian called from nearby as the rest of his companions adjusted to the harsh light.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that,” Aiden apologized absently, absorbed by the glowing glyphs on the cold metal surface before him. Although he was pleased with the result, it would take more time to translate the full meaning of these symbols, time he was unwilling to spend. He hurried back over to the alcove, hopeful that something more interesting had occurred and was thrilled to see a small panel had opened at the back of the space.

  “We need to see what’s in there,” he said to nobody in particular. Twenty feet of empty space separated them from the rear of the alcove, with the yawning abyss below.

  Stand aside, Spartan ordered as he walked over to the alcove. The others made room for the dragon as he stood at the edge of the abyss and extended his long serpentine neck, his snout just reaching the opposite wall.

  Spartan nudged the small door open further and peered inside with one eye. He then shoved his mouth into the space and wrapped his jaws around something. When his head emerged, he held a large, circular piece of metal and very slowly retracted his neck until it was safely above the solid floor, then placed it at his feet.

  “What is that, a shield?” Robert asked nobody in particular, picking up the metal disk and inspecting it closely. It did indeed appear to be a shield, three feet across and with a strap fashioned from some strange material in the back side. Robert grasped it and held it like any other shield, clearly impressed with its balance. The surface was inscribed with the Ironlord’s sigil, and it occurred to Aiden who the shield belonged to.

  “That’s its shield,” he stated as Spartan craned his neck forward to take another look in the aperture. “It seems to be made entirely of auldsteel. It’s probably worth more than all the gold in Aielund’s treasury.”

  “That’s not saying much at the moment,” Criosa muttered under her breath.

  “It’s light, for its size,” Robert commented. “I wonder why it was left behind? Never mind — its loss is my gain.”

  “Is there anything more in there, Spartan?” Criosa called as the dragon once more shoved his nose into the aperture. This time, he withdrew a four-foot staff in his jaws. When he deposited it in Aiden’s outstretched hands, he stared at the staff for a long moment in triumph, and then fumbled around in his pack for the head piece they had secured from Sahar in Trinity. With trembling hands, he took the staff from Spartan’s maw and put the two together.

  Nothing happened. They didn’t even fit together all that well.

  “Am I missing something?” Aiden muttered in exasperation as his companions looked on in anticipation. “Was there anything else in there?”

  The aperture is now empty, Spartan replied. Aiden thought about this for a moment, then headed back over to the generator to retrieve the amulet. The lights in the room went out again when he withdrew it, but even with all three pieces of the staff, none of them really seemed to hold together.

  “We’re definitely missing something,” Aiden surmised.

  “I don’t think we should stay here any longer,” Nellise warned.

  �
�Alright, we have what we came for, so let’s get out of here,” Criosa ordered. “We’ll consult Sahar, and possibly Terinus to figure out the rest. We make for that stairwell and see if we can clear our way out. Aiden and Spartan have the strength to get it done, while the rest of us fetch the horses.”

  “Hooray, more work,” Pacian groaned as the rest of them struggled to their feet and slowly made their way out of the chamber.

  It wasn’t long before they had reached the stairway once more, guarded in silent vigil by the remains of three former explorers. Although Aiden was tired from the long day, he stripped down to his ragged trousers and activated his gauntlet, easily tossing aside the rocks blocking their way. He could only manage a few minutes at a time before the gauntlet overheated and he had to let it cool, so Spartan lent his strength to the task while Aiden rested the device.

  He lost track of time as he worked to open the underground complex, and when he finally felt a whisper of fresh air coming through the cracks, he felt a surge of energy and redoubled his efforts. Criosa and the others arrived with their very nervous horses, just as Aiden was tossing aside the last of the heavy rocks.

  They all breathed deeply of the fresh cold air, and Aiden noted it was now long after sunset. The entrance seemed to open into a short passage, at the end of which he could see the star-filled night sky of the Hocarum Desert. But there was something at the edge of his hearing that gave him cause for concern as he pushed aside the final rocks.

  “What is that sound?” he asked absently. It was a low, constant droning sound he’d never heard before. “It’s like a swarm of a million bees.”

  That is a distant sandstorm, Spartan replied gravely. They sweep through this region of the world and plunge entire regions of the wasteland into stinging darkness for days on end.

  “I heard there was one west of Trinity when I was making enquiries about the war,” Robert added. “If it gets to Trinity before we do, we’ll never get to Highmarch before the Ironlord does.”

  “We cannot rest,” Criosa stated with waning determination. “We have to reach the fort as soon as possible.”

  “You have got to be kidding,” Pacian groaned quietly. “I can barely stand, let along ride back to town.”

  “I have something that will keep us on our feet,” Nellise offered, reaching into one of her pouches.

  “Not the Kahve again,” Aiden sighed, recalling the awful after-effects of the potent herb. Nellise nodded in understand, but continued searching through her bag without finding what she was looking for.

  “I had a good supply of it,” she murmured. “I don’t understand where it all went.”

  “Maybe you lost it when the dragon stepped on you?” Robert suggested.

  “The rest of my equipment is still intact… wait, here’s the satchel I kept it in — it’s empty.” Aiden leaned over and saw this to be true as she turned it inside out. “This is so strange, it’s almost like someone has been stealing it. Perhaps some thief in Trinity took it?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Pacian sighed, nervously rubbing his scalp. “I have something to confess… I took it.”

  “Well, hand it over,” Nellise insisted irritably.

  “I can’t, there’s none left,” Pacian muttered, drawing a disbelieving look from his lover.

  “Are you telling me,” she asked with in a measured voice, “you have been taking Kahve on a regular basis without my knowledge?” Pacian nodded lamely in response. “Pacian, there was enough there to cover our needs five times over. You had all of it?”

  “I’ve been having trouble keeping up with you, so I started taking a little to keep me on my feet,” Pacian explained hastily to the growing ire of his companions. “I found the best cure to Kahve withdraw is more Kahve.”

  “You fool!” Nellise yelled, shocking them all with her sudden anger. “You’re lucky your heart is still beating! You could have taken too much and simply fallen over dead, but worst of all, you’ve lied to me!” Pacian was silent in the face of her fury, guilt and shame etched upon his haggard features.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he sobbed, reaching out to touch her arm only to have her snatch it out of his reach. He fell to his knees and Nellise began to cool down a little, but the simmering anger remained in her golden eyes.

  “No wonder you collapsed downstairs, not to mention your general state of misery lately. First alcohol, now Kahve… Pacian, you’re falling apart at the seams, and there’s nothing I can do if you won’t let me help you.”

  “Enough,” Robert barked gruffly. “We don’t have time for you two to sort things out. We have a long journey back to Trinity and we have to leave right now. If Pacian can’t keep up, I suggest we leave him behind.” There was no dispute from the others, which made Pacian seem all the more miserable.

  I shall rest here overnight and catch up to you as you travel for the fort, Spartan informed them. Pacian will rest here with me, and I shall bring him along with me tomorrow.

  “Fair enough,” Robert nodded. “Don’t feel too upset if you accidentally drop him, by the way. I’m sure we’ll get over it.”

  Pacian said nothing as the others turned away and set out into the desert. Sayana stared at the sky for a few moments to get her bearings, and then they started their ride towards Trinity with the ominous howl of the sandstorm lending strength to their steps.

  * * *

  The red sands of the Hocarum desert stretched on before them. Aiden’s horse trudged onwards through the hot sun, bent forwards against the dry wind blasting the fine sands into his face. The shirt wrapped around his head provided a modicum of relief, but the rest of his body wasn’t so lucky.

  Aiden lost track of the others as he focused on moving onward, until he crested a rise and saw the towering figure of Salinder sitting on his haunches amongst the sands. The dragon teetered slightly in the strong winds, his wings tattered and frayed against the side of his enormous serpentine body.

  Even as Aiden approached, he could see the sands slowly dissolving the dragon’s body, which almost seemed to be made out of sand itself.

  “I thought you were gone,” Aiden called to his draconic ally in relief.

  My time fast approaches, Salinder whispered back, his words slurred and uneven. I conserve my strength for the confrontation. When the battle is joined, call my name and I shall unleash what remains of my strength. When this occurs, know that I will be gone forever after.

  “We found something in the desert, a weapon of some kind,” Aiden said over the increasing roar of the winds. “A staff, with a powerful gemstone in the headpiece. It’s connected to the Ironlord, but I don’t know how, exactly.”

  I have no memory of such a device… or of anything else, for that matter, save for one fact. Salinder turned his dissolving head to the right and looked out over the sands. Aiden was suddenly flying high above a verdant plain, with clouds streaming past. Far below, a city smoldered and burned with hundreds of fires raging through the streets. Thousands of people ran before him in terror, as he swooped in low to bathe more of the city in dragonfire.

  To his right, another dragon flew — Leviachon, younger and free of scars, but no less terrifying. Aiden exulted at the sight of his ally setting people aflame and toppling tall buildings with a swipe of his tail.

  Time shifted forward suddenly, and Aiden could see human knights mounted on powerful steeds storming into an ancient ruin in the mountains, heading straight for a clutch of tiny dragon hatchlings no more than two feet long. The leader of the humans, a fearless warrior and king, slew all but one of the small creatures and held the last up into the air, demanding Aiden’s service in exchange for the life of the last hatchling.

  Devastated at the loss of his family, he agreed and gave his word. He is ordered to spend the next year defending Aielund from his brethren, and during this time he learned more about the ways of humanity. Aiden felt a strange new emotion previously unknown to him — remorse. His merciless slaughter of humanity during his
long years was wrong, for they felt the loss of their sons and daughters in the same manner that he felt the loss of his hatchlings and mate, years ago.

  The scene flashed forward again, and Aiden attempted to explain this revelation to Leviachon. The two dragons came to blows, and the red dragon is seriously wounded yet allowed to go free, for Aiden no longer wishes to kill. The stain of his past actions, slaying countless lives over many years weighed heavily on him, and it is when the king asks one final service of him that he realized the only way to atone for his sins is through sacrifice.

  Aiden suddenly staggered backwards as he found himself on horseback, standing upon the shifting sands of the desert once more. He had experienced the vision it as if he were Salinder, a true memory the dragon had been preserving against the entropy of his fading existence. Aiden was momentarily speechless in the face of such bloodshed.

  “You should know that I’m grateful for everything you’ve sacrificed to keep the Ironlord at bay,” he said mournfully, “but the scope of what I just saw… I’m not even sure a century of service could make up for that.”

  I was a monster, Salinder explained simply. I wanted you to know that before the end. The winds picked up and the dragon effigy recoiled from the blast as more of his body dissolved. Remember me, Salinder whispered as the sand evaporated him completely.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aiden awoke to the feeling of a deep cold penetrating his body. His face was partially buried by sand, so he picked himself up and spat it on the ground. The vision of Salinder was gone, and only then did he realize it had been a dream. The darkness of night still cloaked the desert, lit only by the moon and the stars above. The distant roar of the sandstorm was louder now, and reminded Aiden of the urgency of their journey.