The Hero of Legend

by Demethius Jackson

  Rogan bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Be cautious in your travels,” the soldier replied. “It’s not likely a large number of Legionaries have made it this far south, so you should be relatively safe as a group.”

  “You don’t think traveling as a group is too conspicuous?” Jawn asked Roan.

  “Not at all,” the soldier replied. “Had I not heard you, Councilman, I never would have found you. Your complaints echo for miles.”

  Jawn rolled his eyes.

  Windym clasped hands with Roan.

  “I’m just glad I didn’t have to attack you,” Windym chuckled.

  “As am I. You all would have been killed.” With that, Roan bowed his farewell to the group and began walking away.

  “What now?” Ferst asked.

  Elva began to speak, but was interrupted by Jawn.

  “I don’t think we should take another step until we decide as a group where we’re going,” he stated.

  “We’re going to the Hellish South Plains!” Elva responded angrily.

  “Why?” Jawn taunted. “Because the King said so? The same King who apparently surrendered the kingdom?”

  Elva said nothing. She wanted to believe in Maebus; she wanted to trust in his guidance. But with the evidence stacking against him, perhaps his vagueness was simply caused by his own ambivalence? What would they do? The Hellish South Plains were treacherous. Without some kind of refuge, they would undoubtedly perish. How could Maebus set them on such a journey knowing this?

  Windym pulled back his council cape to reveal a brown, medium-sized leather pouch. He reached into it and withdrew a pointed, metallic device. He held it out to the group.

  “What’s that?” Elva asked.

  “It’s what I tried to show you earlier,” he replied, glaring squarely at Jawn. “It accompanied my message from Maebus, which stated to follow the light. Though, I’m not sure how to.”

  “May I?” Elva asked.

  Windym handed her the device. She analyzed it, noting the smoothness of its metal surface.

  “I’ve never seen this before.”

  “It’s called a reflector,” gruffed a heavyset man stepping forward. Councilman Mert was another administer of military. He took the device from Elva.

  “Not many people have seen this device yet, but the Grand Wizard very recently invented it as a way for our Laymen infantry to uncover hidden messages in the field. It was actually my suggestion to him,” he added proudly. “What you do is point the device forward, and…”

  A bright bluish light shot from the tip of the unit and illuminated the forest before them. The group stood in awe.

  “As I move in different directions, look for something, anything, that reflects or catches your eye,” Mert explained.

  He began slowly panning his body in a circle, making sure the reflector light touched everything in view. “Does anyone see anything?” he asked.

  The group focused in each direction in turn, straining to detect some reflection. Nobody called out in recognition.

  “I’m afraid not,” Ferst responded.

  “Well,” Mert said, handing the device back to Windym, “that’s technically how it works. If Maebus instructed us to go southward with this device, then there’s definitely something along the way he wants us to see. We’ll just have to keep looking.”

  “Any objections?” Elva asked the group, though the question was directed at Jawn.

  None came.

  “Fine, then let’s keep moving,” she said, before leading the way once more.

  Windym walked beside her this time. “Elva,” Windym began. “Why would Maebus give me a device he knew I’d never seen before and probably couldn’t use?”

  She smiled. “Apparently because he knew the reflector would be well protected by your bravery.”

  Windym chuckled, nodding. He turned the reflector on once again. In silence, the group of nine continued walking deeper into the woods, following the reflector light in hopes of uncovering hidden clues.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thane couldn’t believe his eyes. He stood in an empty field in the middle of Centre Forest. “You can’t be serious,” he scolded himself.

  After receiving orders from Damian to retrieve the Realmsic Crystal, he’d spent the better part of the previous night following what he believed to be the tracks of King Maebus and Grand Wizard Kelm. Seeing the King catapulted from battle, Thane was positive they’d headed east, until he saw their footprints trailing off in the northern direction. By roughly following the King’s trajectory through the air, he was led several miles away from the castle to the spot where he believed Maebus landed.

  Squatting, he had traced the outer edges of the footprints. By analyzing the physical evidence of the environment, the entire scene of events unfolded before his eyes.

  Thane detected what appeared to be a minor skirmish. He could tell by the depth of the foot impacts, along with traces of blood on the ground. As he stood, something in the distance caught his eye. Although several yards away, he recognized the bloodied, tattered uniforms and stiff contorted limbs of the soldiers sprawled face down upon the ground.

  Stepping closer towards them, he rationalized that they were victims of the skirmish. Meandering along the perimeter, he identified hoof prints and a second set of animal prints that he assumed were made by Damian’s panther. The spacing between each imprint signified that a chase ensued northward through the forest. Tracking their direction along with the damage made to the surrounding forestation, Thane had arrived in the empty field where he now stood—where the horse hooves led back into the woods. And the human tracks abruptly ended.

  The General was furious. He prided himself on being an exceptional tracker. Growing up in the stark Lands of the East, he’d developed and perfected his survival skills. But what he now saw before him didn’t make sense. How could Maebus and Kelm just vanish? Had he been duped? Had the King and Grand Wizard doubled back south? Thane assessed the land as critically as he could, searching for anything that seemed out of place. Yet, he could find nothing.

  “I must have missed something,” he said, pulling absently at his beard.

  As he began his long walk back to the castle, he was intercepted by four riders on horseback. One soldier hopped from his saddle to give a Legionarie’s salute.

  “General, sir,” the soldier began. “We’ve found something of significance.”

  Thane released the handle grip of his sword, which he had instinctively grabbed. “Speak,” he ordered.

  “Our men have discovered a large collection of footprints near the castle’s east guard wall. They look to be heading southward into the Central Forest.”

  “How many sets of footprints did you see?”

  “There were at least nine. Several of our men are already searching in that direction. However, we’ve yet to hear back from them. It’s possible the prints were made by soldiers during the battle. But we wanted to be sure.”

  “Idiot, how could the prints have been made by men in battle, when there were no men in battle on the castle’s east side? Our attack came from the west! Furthermore, how do you know it wasn’t just staff fleeing from the castle?”

  “You’re right, sir, we don’t know. That’s why we came to get you.”

  Thane growled in response to the Legionarie’s flippant attitude. Shoving the soldier out of his way, Thane mounted the man’s horse. “I’ll inspect the prints myself. Go and alert the Warlord that we may have Maebus’ trail. You three…” He pointed at the remaining horsemen. “You’re with me. As for you…” He turned towards the snappy soldier whose horse he’d confiscated. “Enjoy the walk back.”

  • • • • •

  Elva’s mind snapped to attention when she heard the enthusiastic call of her colleague.

  “There!” Windym exclaimed. “I see something!”

  He pointed to a sparkle of light that glinted off the bark of a birch tree about twenty yards away from their group.

  F
erst squinted. “What is that?” he asked.

  “Perhaps what we’ve been looking for,” Elva murmured, though not exactly sure what she was looking at.

  She ran towards the light source as quickly as her short legs permitted. The council followed behind her. The closer she got, the more she distinguished the image. It appeared to be etched into the trunk of the tree. Standing directly in front of it, she paused, unable to speak. Soon the others gathered behind her, each staring in amazement.

  Burned into its bark was the Realmsic symbol. The hand-drawn lines that made up the image sparkled with a silver luminescence under the light of the reflector. Elva touched the tree bark and was surprised to find that its surface had not been damaged. The image had not been carved into the tree.

  Who did this? Elva’s unspoken question coincided with an exclamation from Councilman Ferst.

  “It must be from the brothers!”

  Relief flowed through Elva’s mind upon hearing his words.

  “I knew it! I knew Maebus wouldn’t have left us alone out here!” Councilwoman Landi said, stepping closer to the tree to examine the image for herself.

  “It’s nice to know someone is guiding us after all,” Windym agreed.

  Jawn, too, shook his head in seeming disbelief. He had to examine the symbol and touch it to confirm it was real. Standing only inches from the tree, he said, “Obviously, the work of an amateur.” He slowly walked around the tree, then squealed. “Whoa!”

  Windym quickly shut off the reflector.

  Jawn emerged from behind the tree, a sharp metal point was placed upon the fleshy part of his neck. Elva’s throat tightened like a vice as she swallowed.

  “Hands in the air!” the bandit sharply commanded.

  Jawn threw his hands in the air. He was forced toward the group, the tip of the sword pinching the flesh beneath his chin.

  Councilman Greeve stiffened his aged body and clenched his fists. “I can take these punks!” he exclaimed in an aged, wispy voice. He scrunched the deep wrinkles in his face and furrowed his gray brows.

  “You will do no such thing! Do as they say,” Elva ordered, watching several archers emerge from the woods and encircle them. Each held a drawn bow, strung with an arrow. Her heart pounded as she stretched her arms skyward along with the council. She’d never felt so vulnerable and helpless.

  “Now, what do we have here?” the bandit asked. “You certainly look like a bunch of well-to-do’s.”

  He and the archers laughed.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Ferst asked.

  The bandit, tilting his head to see around Jawn, focused on Ferst.

  “The meaning is … give us your money.” The man’s voice was raspy; his face, beastly. His bald head was as shiny as the sword he wielded. His eyes resembled those of a rat, resting above a vulture’s beak of a nose.

  “But we don’t have any money!” Elva stated, taking a step towards Jawn and the bandit. She straightened her back and hardened her gaze. But the bandit scared her.

  “That’s far enough, honey,” he warned. “Don’t make me nervous. You wouldn’t want me accidentally slicing your friend’s throat, would you?”

  Elva briefly considered it.

  The bandit smiled at her, revealing several missing teeth.

  Elva’s face tightened with anger before responding with a hardness in her voice that she reserved for particularly intractable council members. “Look, we have nothing to give,” she stated boldly. “We’ve been living off the land just like you. Now let us pass!”

  “I think not,” the bandit said. “At least not without us receiving a toll.”

  Elva sighed. “But I’ve told you that we have no…”

  “SHUT UP!” he yelled before she could finish. “I’ll decide that for myself.” He lowered his sword from Jawn’s throat and kicked him into the group.

  “Carlod, search them all!” he ordered one of the archers. A man, dressed in black attire like the other robbers, stepped forward. After quickly unhitching his arrow, he began searching the pockets of the each council member.

  After several minutes, he found nothing other than a few strips of paper with messages scribbled on them, the remnants of food, a few medical supplies from Landi’s carry bag, and a box.

  “What’s this?” Carlod’s green eyes popped with anticipation. It was the small, metal container. Carlod used the edge of his bow to pry open the box lid, only to find it contained nothing but rocks.

  “Any money?” the bandit asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied discouragingly. “Well, nothing except these scraps of paper and a box of stupid rocks.”

  Rocks? Elva thought.

  The lead bandit pointed his sword toward her, instinctively forcing her to raise her hands higher into the air.

  “Why would you be traveling with a box of rocks?”

  She honestly couldn’t say. But she had to think quickly. The container was given to them by Commander Khroy. It must have some unknown significance.

  “We’re teachers of science,” she lied. “We found these rocks on our journey, and we wanted to keep them for analysis.”

  “I bet,” the bandit said.

  Assessing their worthlessness, he threw the box onto the ground.

  “Hey!” Carlod suddenly shouted. “What’s that thing he’s holding in his hands?” He pointed at Windym.

  “It’s nothing,” the Councilman replied.

  “I said shut up!” The bandit screamed. “Carlod, take it from him.”

  The archer went for the device, but Windym shoved him away.

  “Give it here!” Carlod yelled, stumbling.

  The lead bandit immediately sprang from his position and pointed his sword at Windym’s chest.

  “Give it up,” he commanded. “I’ll not ask you again.”

  “Windym,” Councilman Mert suddenly said, “do as he says.”

  “This ain’t a request, dammit!” the lead bandit exclaimed.

  Coldly staring deep into his eyes, Windym handed him the device.

  Snatching it, the bandit scampered over to his accomplices and examined it.

  “What is it?” one of the archers asked.

  “I don’t know. Never seen it before. But it looks fancy. We might be able to sell it,” the bandit replied, placing it in his pocket. He pointed his sword toward the group as he allowed Carlod and the rest of his archers a chance to retreat. “If I catch you out here again, you’re dead … all of you!” He backed slowly away.

  With that, he and the others slipped through the trees and vanished into the forest. Once the council was sure the robbers weren’t coming back, the group of nine lowered their arms, breathing a collective sigh of relief. Elva darted to the open box lying on the ground. Why had Khroy given them rocks to carry? What was their significance?

  Maebus and his mysteries, she thought.

  Scooping them up, she placed the rocks back into their container.

  “Is everyone all right?” Elva asked, handing the box to Landi to place back in her shoulder bag.

  “No, I’m not all right!” Jawn snapped. “I just had a sword to my throat!”

  “And they took the reflector!” Windym added.

  “What are we going to do now?” Ferst asked. “That device was the only way we could locate the symbols.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Mert stated.

  Ferst raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t have allowed the reflector to be taken had there not been another way,” Mert retorted. “We can produce the same reflector light with enchanted fire.”

  “What? Then why use the device in the first place?” Ferst asked.

  Mert laughed. “So that Laymen in our military can use it to uncover magical messages!”

  “Oh. Well, that makes sense.” Ferst couldn’t help but laugh himself.

  Mert walked over to a nearby tree and broke off a branch. “Landi, you’re an administrator of magic. Can you spell us some fire?” He han
ded the branch to her.

  “Certainly,” she replied. “But won’t the flame be too noticeable?”

  “Indeed,” Mert replied. “That’s probably why Maebus gave us the reflector in the first place. It’s not as visible. But it’s gone now, and we need to see those symbols.”

  With a flick of Landi’s fingers, the branch ignited.

  “Excellent! Do you also happen to know the Recallis spell? We’ll need it to enchant the flame.”

  “No. Unfortunately, I don’t,” Landi said. “As an Elementalist Wizard, my magic is limited to only effecting the physical environment around me.”

  “I can do it,” replied Tavon, another administrator of magic.

  Elva knew him to be an Energist Wizard, possessing the ability to alter the metaphysical state of objects. Having spent so much time working with Kelm, she’d forgotten that most Wizards only practiced one magical discipline. Only Grand Wizards knew multiple.

  Tavon took the branch from Landi and focused his mind on the flame. After muttering a few words to himself, its amber color turned blue, and the Realmsic symbol re-appeared on the tree in front of them.

  “Fantastic work!” Elva stated. “But what about the reflector? If those bandits figure out how to use it, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

  Mert roared with laughter. “Those idiots…. The device takes a certain level of sophistication. I doubt they’ll even be able to sell it. It’ll serve no purpose to anyone. If anything, they’ll get frustrated and just throw it away.”

  Elva began walking forward. “Come on, people. Let’s continue south and find the other symbols.”

  “Wait!” Mert suddenly hollered, stopping her in her tracks. “Landi raised a good point about walking through these woods with a huge flaming stick. We’ll have to be extra vigilant now. We’re almost certain to attract unwanted attention. And with nothing in our possession except rocks, we may not escape so easily from the next robbers we encounter.”

  Elva began walking again. “That’s a risk we’ll just have to take.”

  Chapter Fifteen