The Hero of Legend

by Demethius Jackson

  “Hey! Did you just cross your fingers behind your back?” Heegan asked. Hom was no older than twelve years old and was never one to follow rules.

  “Um, no.” Hom said, though not very convincingly.

  Heegan shook his head, sighing. Being closer to fifteen years, his pale skin looked darker from the peach fuzz he desperately tried to grow. Although his size was that of an average teenager, people often told him that he possessed the earnestness of a much older man.

  Heegan rose to his feet. He then carefully peeked his head into the hallway, just as his brother did earlier.

  “Come on, it’s all clear.” he said to his brother.

  “Is it really?” Hom asked rolling his eyes.

  Carrying only one small satchel each, the brothers scampered down the empty residence hallway towards the main corridor. Despite the Warlord’s threat of attack, the Realmsic Castle had been relatively calm throughout the entire day. It wasn’t until late afternoon, after Commander Khroy had knocked on their door and alerted them of their tasks, that the brothers noticed the increased activity.

  Now, within the darkness of night, they discovered the castle had become even more chaotic. The staff and military bustled with preparations just as they’d done for perhaps a thousand battles before. The brothers slid easily through the frantic adults. Most children who lived in the castle had long become accustomed to such activity. The brothers took advantage of the adult’s attentiveness to their tasks that needed to be completed by morning. No one seemed to even notice Heegan and Hom as they nonchalantly headed towards the lower cellars and absconded through a drainage tunnel on the east side of the castle.

  Once outside, the brisk night air hit them. Hom took a moment to gaze upon the starry night. The rain had stopped and the sky was now cloudless.

  “Hurry up! We don’t have much time,” Heegan demanded.

  “All right, all right, I’m right behind you!” Hom huffed.

  Together, they ran from the castle at full speed, across an open damp field. The tall grass came up to their knees, yet the night air was refreshing. Hom opened his mouth wide to breathe as much of it as he could.

  As they headed towards the castle’s land bridge and entrance gate, the Centre Forest came into view.

  “That’s where we need to go,” Heegan said.

  “Then let’s do it!” Hom said in an exaggerated deep voice that seemed to mock Heegan.

  Unexpectedly, two speeding objects shot toward them without warning.

  “Quick, duck down!” Heegan yelled.

  The two fell to their stomachs and laid flat on the ground. “Ewww,” Hom said softly, wiping the mud off his hands.

  They hid in the tall grass as several Realmsic soldiers galloped past on horses.

  “Ok, let’s go,” Hom said jumping up.

  “Wait!”

  Heegan yanked his brother back to the ground as another rider zipped past them. Hearing the galloping hooves fade into the distance, Heegan cautiously lifted his head to verify that the coast was clear. Both boys stood up and wiped themselves off.

  “What would you do without me?” Heegan asked.

  “Apparently nothing well,” Hom replied.

  They retrieved their satchels from the ground and ran as fast as they could towards the castle’s east guard wall. Staying low against the jagged stones, they followed the rounded wall towards its entrance gate opening, which faced south. After verifying the coast was clear, they crossed the land bridge and darted towards the Centre Forest, vanishing into its depth.

  • • • • •

  Maebus stared at his shiny war armor, which rested upon his bed. Upon returning to his personal chamber, his squires had brought it in for him. Piece by piece, he analyzed the suit’s detail and craftsmanship. The metal breastplate was thick and could easily withstand an axe blow or magical blast. The suit’s various sections had also been connected by strong rivets. The armor shined a metallic yellow that Maebus hoped wasn’t gold. There was too much suffering within the Realm for such frivolousness. The armor appeared to be new and hadn’t yet been soiled by battle. This inescapable fact embarrassed him.

  Next to the armor laid his battle sword. Years ago, it’d been given to him by his own father. Certainly it wasn’t the typical gift presented to a newly selected Councilman. But the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. The sword was an impressive weapon despite containing no jewels or fancy stenciled designs. It was simply a warrior’s sword: sharp and reliable. Such a weapon probably cost his father every coin he had in the world. Yet, Maebus was assured that it was worth its price.

  “With such a sword, your suggestions to the council will be heard more clearly,” his father had said.

  Maebus laughed at the memory.

  He lifted the weapon from the bed. The ice-cold hilt warmed instantly in his hands. He missed his father. And though he carried many of his qualities within himself, the deception needed to mislead the council wasn’t one of them. No, Neebus of the Southern Hills would never have approved. But then again, his father never would have wanted the responsibility of leadership thrust upon him.

  Alone, Maebus strapped on his battle suit and sheathed the sword. His polished armor clanked with each step that he took towards the door. Standing guard outside his quarters, his sentries immediately snapped to attention.

  “Let’s go,” he said to them.

  “Let’s go where?” asked a voice accusingly. As though appearing out of thin air, Kelm stood in the hall.

  “I go to battle, with my men,” Maebus replied.

  Kelm shook his head. “Maebus, not since Queen Alyma has a royal fought on the battlefield!”

  Smiling at his friend, Maebus conceded, “And a great warrior she was.” But he still turned to walk away from Kelm.

  “Maebus, stop!” the Wizard called.

  A long, breathy sigh escaped Maebus as he halted and turned around. “Kelm,” he began, “I don’t expect for you to agree with my decision.”

  “I don’t.”

  Maebus smirked. “I can influence this battle as well as any soldier we have, and I’ll not stand idly by waiting, anticipating a wishful outcome. Not while I have the sound mind and able body to fight!”

  “This is insane, Maebus. You can’t… What makes you think that…” Unable to form a coherent argument, Kelm stopped speaking. He too sighed, for he knew it would be useless arguing with Maebus. “I foresaw this moment and have likewise prepared for it.”

  He reached into his robe pocket. “You can’t blame me for trying to talk you out of it,” he said, handing Maebus a small dark device. “Here, take this.”

  “Ah, another one of your fine magical gadgets.”

  Kelm ignored Maebus’ friendly jab. “When the time comes, press the button on its cover. I’ll monitor you from the command tower.”

  “And I have something for you,” Maebus replied, pulling a handwritten message from a flat leather pouch affixed to his sword belt. The square of paper was similar to those distributed to the council. “I was going to give this to you later, but…” He shrugged, as though at a loss for explanation. “These instructions are for you to follow, if I don’t return.”

  “Maebus…” Kelm’s gaze was intent upon his friend.

  Maebus placed the folded message in his palm and clasped hands with his brother. “May today ultimately bring us peace,” he said. Before Kelm could respond, Maebus pivoted on a heel and walked down the corridor. He tried not to think of it possibly being the last time he and Kelm might speak to one another. Pushing the unpleasant notion out of his mind, he made his way downstairs to the castle stables.

  Upon arrival, his two squires were already waiting with his horse. “Peckton. Chaes.” He greeted them. “And hello, Nightly!” Maebus gently patted the horse upon her face. She, too, had been strapped with polished armor, which glistened under lit torches. Upon helping him mount, Squire Peckton informed Maebus that the Realmsic Army was already taking position, and his officers were r
eady to receive him just beyond the castle’s exterior guard wall. The massive structure had been erected to protect the east and west sides of the castle. The north side was naturally protected by a steep cliff towering above the Northwest River.

  With the clanking of metal upon metal, he rode out of the stables and galloped the distance from the main entrance and across the land bridge, which had been pre-emptively fortified as usual. Once beyond the castle’s exterior guard walls, he glanced at the dark midnight sky. The rain had stopped. Nightly splashed hard through mud puddles, splattering their armor.

  Thank you, my friend. Maebus chuckled.

  Up ahead, he saw Commander Khroy and several officers mounted and waiting for him at the wall. Beyond them, ranks of soldiers were forming a defensive position around the castle according to how Khroy had previously devised.

  “Ready?” Maebus asked as he approached his officers.

  “Ready,” Khroy replied on their behalf.

  After one last longing scan of the Realmsic Castle, as though he would commit each stone to memory, Maebus and his detail began their ride to the boundary of Centre Pointe to unite with the rest of his troops … and into, perhaps, the last battle of their lives.

  Chapter Seven

  Much of the previous night’s rain had frozen over, leaving the grassy fields covered in a thin layer of frost. Despite the warmth of morning’s first light, the air was frigid. Maebus wiped a fine misting of ice crystals from his eyebrows. Among the cold morning mist and dank atmosphere stood the ranks of the Realmsic Army.

  Throughout the night, the battalion had marched in formation to their assignments. Just as Commander Khroy had strategized, their ranks took up defensive perimeters around the back of the Realmsic Castle and several miles beyond the outskirts of the capital, where Maebus was currently positioned. Each line of soldiers prepared a specific task according to their function. Their training, along with many years of battle experience, had taught them to work as one. The King was pleased.

  Dressed in full battle armor, Maebus sat horseback at the head of their formation. Beside him sat Commander Khroy. As the sun continued to rise above them, all remained eerily calm. Maebus observed weapons being distributed among the military. War torches were ignited. He knew that the life of a Realmsic soldier was afforded few comforts. Many years were invested into each individual to develop the fortitude which they displayed.

  Maebus thought of how their bodies were conditioned to withstand pain; their minds were disciplined to follow orders. Initially, recruits were trained in the harshest environments and soon became indifferent to hot and cold climates. Through brutal combat drills known as the Helzig, a recruit was mentally and physically abused. Rigorous exercises built discipline and strength. Their minds were stretched beyond the limits of tolerance, and then stretched further. Their bodies became like steel as they endured similar punishment.

  After healing and re-healing, the body calloused and became capable of withstanding the force of a magical blast, as well as the blow of an opponent’s weapon. From that point, a recruit was subjected to the wrath of the Crucifers: War Wizards militarized for the sole purpose of defending the kingdom. From the Crucifers, soldiers did not learn magic but, rather, applied defenses against it.

  Maebus regretted that he had not trained as his men did. But he knew he would be no less ready. To be a Realmsic soldier indeed meant to suffer. But no greater pride came from the survival of such trials. No greater confidence came from knowing you were the best.

  Beyond a shadow of a doubt, his Realmsic Army was ready to face the Legion. He knew that rumors had circulated their ranks for some time that the Legion would be the fiercest opponents they’d yet to face. Many marched into battle knowing it would be their last, but the notion of fear had long left the Realmsic soldier.

  With Khroy at his side, Maebus watched the approach of a Realmsic Army Captain, who swiftly galloped towards their position, undoubtedly with a status report. With a mighty neigh, the man’s steed, a painted stallion, halted before them. Pulling on its reins, the Captain dismounted in one fluid motion.

  “Sire. Commander.” He saluted. “I’m Captain Derwun. I bring the latest report from the field.”

  Maebus immediately noticed the soldier’s hard, dark eyes, sunken into a chiseled, narrow face. Upon closer examination, he saw that Derwun’s beard was actually mud smeared beneath his chin. His hands were also caked with the dried substance. Older, experienced soldiers sometimes did this to symbolize the earth which they came from, and would possibly return to. Derwun was ready for war.

  Maebus nodded to Khroy, who questioned the Captain. “What have you, Captain Derwun?”

  “Sir, as ordered, the combat battalion has taken their designated positions.”

  “And what are the positions?”

  “Combat Battalion One has been separated into two platoons. Each is aligned along our natural ridges here beyond Centre Pointe, and will maintain a left and right perimeter.”

  Khroy briefly turned towards Maebus. “The ridges provide a natural filter that will force the enemy into a smaller, localized area,” he explained. “Each platoon should outnumber the amount of Legionaries who file through it.”

  “Excellent,” Maebus stated. “Captain, please continue.”

  “Aye, Commandant. Beyond Combat Battalion One is a mobile formation of Crucifers. They will maintain their position but provide distance support via air attacks.”

  “The Crucifers will shoot fireballs just over our troops into Damian’s forces, like a magical rain of fire. If the first perimeter is breached, the Crucifers will march forward and reestablish the stronghold. If the enemy is still able to break through our defensive line, they will encounter Combat Battalion Two, our second defensive line positioned outside of the Realmsic Castle. Once they engage, the Crucifers will double back and attack the Warlord’s forces from behind.”

  “No,” Maebus interrupted. “I don’t want the Crucifers to engage the Legion directly. Have them rally to the high grounds located just east of the castle. Combat Battalion Two will need their continued air support.”

  Khroy raised an eyebrow. “Sire,” he began, “Combat Battalion Two is a significantly smaller force than the first. They will need the additional fighting strength of the Crucifers. Air support may not be enough.”

  “I understand that, Commander. But keep in mind that we will be fighting an unorthodox enemy. Therefore, an unorthodox strategy is needed.”

  Khroy waited for further explanation, but Maebus remained silent.

  Captain Derwun continued. “Sire, Commander, every soldier has been given specific orders per your instructions. All have been accounted for and are prepared to fulfill their duty. The battle will commence on your word.”

  Maebus nodded with satisfaction.

  “Outstanding, Captain.” Khroy said, as he gave a standard Realmsic salute—two fingers across the heart, followed by a quick chest pound. “Return to your position and await engagement.”

  “Aye, sir.” The officer saluted in kind, remounted his horse and galloped away.

  Maebus and Khroy watched him disappear before continuing their discussion of strategy.

  “The distance between our current position and the castle should provide a sufficient buffer,” Khroy noted.

  “I have the utmost trust in you, Commander. But I hope I have not put you at a disadvantage regarding our plans, by keeping you in the dark for too long.” Maebus kept his voice low as he spoke to prevent unwanted ears overhearing.

  “What do you mean?” Khroy asked.

  Maebus briefly scanned the perimeter before answering. “As you know, prior to this day, I sent individual messages to all council members and the Joint Officer’s Corps. For the protection of our people and this operation, I cannot share with you their orders, just as I have not shared your orders with them. Beneath our military strategy is a hidden agenda. You are trained to fight and win battles, yet I need you to understand that this battl
e will not unfold as you expect it to. Regardless, you must follow your instructions to the letter!”

  Deep creases appeared across Khroy’s weathered brow. He hesitated before speaking. Lips tight, he said, “Before all, I am a soldier who knows his responsibilities and who faithfully performs his duties. That being said, I read your instructions to me, over and over again, and I swear to you, your Highness, what you ask of me … I don’t think I can do. And I …”

  “I know, Khroy,” Maebus interrupted before he could argue further. “I know I have asked what may seem impossible of you, and perhaps of everyone on this battle field. But no matter what your inner feelings tell you, I’m telling you to fight against it. Do as you’ve been instructed. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Khroy’s heavy brows knitted above his eyes. Tiny vertical lines whitened around his mouth as though he struggled to restrain his words. He’s angry, thought Maebus. He waited to see how his Commander would respond. It was a test of his training but, more than that, it was a test of his loyalty.

  “Maebus … my friend,” began Khroy. “I will perform as duty demands of me. However…” He paused. “You don’t have to be here. We will follow your word as given. You don’t have to put yourself at risk.”

  Like Khroy, Maebus was well versed in military strategy, but what he lacked was combat experience, at least on a large scale. Maebus knew this was why Khroy tried to dissuade him now.

  “When no one believed the threat Damian to be real, it was you who tried to persuade King Theodo,” Khroy said. “And when King Theodo and all others fled in fear of facing Damian, you stepped forward to lead the Realm. Therefore, you have nothing to prove to anyone. The future of our home is much too important for you to risk your life in battle. Even if you resided atop the castle’s command tower, we would still fight for you.”

  Maebus nodded as he reached over to reassuringly squeeze the Commander on his arm. “Khroy, I understand your concerns and those of Kelm, who intercepted me before I left the castle. But this battle is perhaps the most dire any of us will fight in our lifetimes. I could not live with myself watching its outcome from the command tower, standing by as others sacrificed so much, knowing I was able-bodied and willing to help influence this battle’s result.”