The Hero of Legend

by Demethius Jackson

  “In our first battle, we were doubtful, uncertain. But now we cannot afford such thoughts. So think carefully on what has been discussed this night and think clearly when taking command of our mobilized forces. Eliminate all doubt from your mind, and focus on victory. Because, if we believe we can win, then win we shall.”

  With that, Maebus rose to his feet, followed by Kelm, and then the rest of the collective group. Maebus watched as each person moved to form a single line, and then began exiting the cottage, which was a typical process upon ending council meetings. Maebus was pleased that, despite no longer being in Centre Pointe, they were still able to maintain Realmsic tradition. It proved to him that the kingdom didn’t reside in magic, lands, and castles. It lived in the hearts and minds of its people.

  • • • • •

  After the war meeting ended, word was secretly sent to the allied nations, and orders were distributed throughout the Realmsic ranks. For the rest of the night, the troops prepared themselves mentally and physically for what was to come. Maebus, Kelm, and the council members made their way through the encampment, greeting individual soldiers and assisting with the distribution of food and supplies.

  It was these moments that Maebus cherished the most—being among his men. On the battlefield, everyone was equal. Magic would burn the body of a King, and swords would pierce his flesh just as easily as they would a foot soldier. And if it came to it, he would gladly give his life for any of his men, just as they had already done for him. Maebus’ mind suddenly drifted.

  “Khroy...” he said softly.

  No greater sacrifice could anyone ever give than their life for a friend. Maebus reflected for a moment, thinking of his dear friend, remembering the times they’d spent together over the years. He missed Khroy terribly and, in many ways, now fought for him. Maebus glanced forward and caught sight of Kelm helping a soldier light his campfire.

  Granted, he and the Grand Wizard had not quite seen eye to eye lately. But Kelm was still more than a friend. He was Maebus’ brother, and he dared not even think of the possibility of anything happening to Kelm. He shoved the very notion from his mind, and continued observing his soldiers.

  As Kelm looked up from the fire, they momentarily locked gazes. Maebus walked over to him. He placed a hand upon the Wizard’s shoulder. They’d shared a long journey up until this point, a journey that had tested the very fiber of their beings. Neither man was the same as when they began and now—right or wrong, for better or worse—the journey was about to end.

  “Tomorrow?” Kelm said to Maebus. The word summed up everything Maebus felt; everything he could say about the situation.

  Maebus solemnly nodded. “Tomorrow,” he replied.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  The castle corridors bustled with Legionaries racing to their assignments and with the Warlord’s staff attending to their daily duties. Seku, however, roamed mindlessly through it all, heading towards the mess hall. Since speaking with Igthu and seeing his battered condition, his heart filled with disappointment and uncontrollable anger. He was upset with the Warlord but, most of all, he was upset with himself.

  Living as many years as he had, Seku knew the ways of men in power and their quest for more. But he thought Damian was different. The great leader’s words of equality and peace were like precious milk to a starving stomach, and Seku drank it up. He felt special, being personally chosen by the Warlord to work with him. He thought Damian respected his experience and accomplishments. But, in reality, Seku simply fit his needs, nothing more. As an older soldier, he was less likely to be suspected of espionage. It was easier for him to slip through the ranks unnoticed and acquire information from those willing to confide in an experienced comrade. Yet, Seku himself had been betrayed. For Damian had deceived and used Seku, just as the old soldier had used his own fellows. It burned him up to be so gullible.

  As Seku finally arrived at the mess hall, he found it surprisingly empty. Since the now infamous escape, patrols had been doubled throughout the kingdom, which left little free time for the men. As he grabbed a tray and walked into the chow line, he glanced across the cafeteria and spotted a familiar face. In fact, he’d recognize that hideous scar anywhere. It belonged to Reeze, the new friend he’d met not too long ago during dinner. Seku took a few slices of bread and grabbed a spoonful of veggies.

  “No mystery meat this time,” he told the kitchen server.

  Holding his tray in both hands, he walked over to where Reeze was sitting.

  “May I?” Seku asked.

  Reeze, chewing a mouthful of food, nodded his approval. As Seku sat, he could instantly tell that Reeze was in a foul mood.

  “You okay, friend?” Seku asked.

  Reeze looked up from his meal. Seku immediately saw that the side of his face opposite the scar was extremely red and swollen.

  “What happened?” Seku exclaimed. “Looks like you got kicked in the face.”

  Reeze rolled his eyes. “Maybe because I did,” he replied.

  Seku stared at Reeze, expecting him to joke. But he didn’t. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Why would I joke ‘bout that?” Reeze asked.

  “I don’t reckon you would,” Seku replied. “I guess you were one of the guards blamed for the dungeon escape?”

  Upon hearing the comment, Reeze completely stopped eating. “How do you know ‘bout that?” he asked.

  “An old soldier has his ways,” Seku explained. “I don’t know the details of what happened, but I do know that you all were unjustly punished. It doesn’t make sense for a so-called great leader to treat his own men like that. It doesn’t teach discipline; it doesn’t strengthen the unit. It’s just cruel!” Seku paused. He could feel himself getting angry again at his own situation.

  “Yeah well, be that as it may, there’s nothin’ any of us can do ‘bout it,”

  Seku disagreed. “There’s always something that can be done. You’re telling me it doesn’t just burn you up, the things that have been going on around here lately?”

  “Of course it does!” Reeze retorted. “Don’t get me wrong. Yeah, I wanna live free from magic. But torturin’ civilians, and getting’ beat up by our superiors … this ain’t what I signed up for. This ain’t the future I thought we’d create.” Reeze leaned in closer. “I even know others that feel the same way as me. But like I said, what can we honestly do about it?”

  “You could leave.” The words slipped out of Seku’s mouth before he could think about them.

  Reeze threw back his head and laughed. “You mean desert?”

  “No, no, no,” Seku said. “I mean … just leave.” The old soldier discreetly glanced around before speaking again in a whisper. “Think about everything that has happened to you personally, the abuse you’ve endured, the friends you’ve lost, the feelings of resentment you now have toward those who have lied to you. Now, think about having a way out of it all.”

  “Well, yeah, I would if I could,” Reeze said, with an edge of uncomfortable laughter in his voice. “But where we gonna go? There’s no safe place for a Legionarie. We came into the Realm as liberators and have turned out to be tyrants. Anywhere we go, we’ll now be hated.”

  “What if I told you that there was a way out. Would you be interested?” Seku whispered.

  Reeze sat completely still, his focus unwavering from Seku. “Wait, you’re serious, ain’t you? You’re actually thinkin’ ‘bout … leaving?” he barely said the last word.

  “I will not confirm, nor deny,” Seku stated.

  The soldier held up both his hands, gesturing for Seku to stop. “You’re gonna get us both killed, talkin’ ‘bout this!”

  “Are you gonna tell on me?” Seku asked.

  “What? Of course not!” Reeze exclaimed, shaking his head. “Look, my reasons for leavin’—if I were even considerin’ such a thing—have been etched into my face,” Reeze pointed to his deep laceration. “But explain to me, what are your reasons? Why are you doin’ this?” />
  “I’m not doing anything,” Seku retorted.

  “Okay, then humor me. What’s your angle in such a thing?”

  The old soldier, knowing he walked a dangerous line, chose his next words carefully.

  “If I were thinking of doing such a thing, it would be because of a young soldier enlisted in this Legion. The boy is like my son and, like you, he was blamed for the escape and mercilessly beaten.”

  Reeze didn’t respond. He simply allowed Seku to continue. “How long will this go on? I’ve seen the Warlord unleash hell on the people of Centre Pointe for the sake of freedom, and then turn on his own men with the same indiscriminate ruthlessness. I swear to you, that’s not a leader at all. That’s a dictator! And I fear that if we wait around for the next stages of this campaign, it’s only a matter of time before you, he, or me are somehow killed by our own leader.”

  Seku paused, letting his words sink in. “So I ask you comrade, friend. If there were a way to leave this all behind, would you be in, or would you be out?”

  It didn’t take long for Reeze to consider the proposition. “You crazy, man? I’d be in!” Reeze clasped hands with Seku, which was the Realmsic symbol of honor—sacred and unbroken.

  “May the bond be unbroken, comrade,” Seku proclaimed. “We’re now in this together. Where are you assigned to usually?”

  “The infirmary,” Reeze replied.

  Seku grabbed his tray and stood up from the table. “For now, let’s continue to meet here … every other night. I’ll feed you information as I receive it. Sound like a plan?”

  “Yeah,” Reeze said.

  “Good. Until then, keep this conversation to yourself.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The night seemed longer than usual, and Maebus had spent most of it awake. He sat in an empty field not far from the cottage, staring up at the starry sky. The cottage was crowded, with every available empty space now occupied by a sleeping person, and Maebus needed some time to himself to think. He hadn’t realized the hours passing until he noticed the stars slowly dim, giving way to the morning light.

  Today was the day. He and his soldiers would begin their march north to Centre Pointe. There, they would engage in the greatest battle of their lives. Maebus felt confident, yet frightened. Beyond this battle, there was no other plan, no elaborate strategy, no deceptive retreat. This was it, and as he mentioned to his men before, it was for all or nothing.

  “There you are!” a voice called from the distance.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you,” Kelm said, walking through the tall grass toward Maebus. The sun was starting to peek just above the horizon, drenching Kelm’s body in an amber glow.

  “Why are you sitting out here alone?” the Wizard asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Maebus replied.

  “Have you been out here the entire night?”

  Maebus did not respond.

  “You’re worried about this battle, aren’t you?”

  “I had a dream last night … about the battle.” Maebus paused. “I dreamt I didn’t make it, and I’m hoping it was not one of those prophetic dreams.”

  Kelm chuckled. “Maebus, you’re not magical, so I doubt it was prophetic. I believe it’s just your own subconscious stressing over this event … as it should. We’ve come a long way, and everything boils down to this. But you’ve seen combat before, and you know how to protect yourself if in immediate danger.”

  “Actually, I’m not worried. Not like when we first began this journey. We were filled with fear and uncertainty. We faced the unknown but rose to the challenge and somehow overcame every adversity as they arrived. We are stronger now, perhaps more than ever before.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” Kelm said.

  “And I’m glad to have you as my friend,” Maebus replied, rising to his feet. “What you said to me at the Northwest River stuck with me for some time. I didn’t want to admit it, but you were right. I was being selfish. Seeing our people reunited and working toward one common goal, I realized that hope is not my enemy after all. All this time, you’ve tried to advise me, tried to be my voice of reason. Out of ignorance … perhaps even arrogance, I rejected your guidance. I never meant to offend you or make light of your beliefs, and I hope that in time, you will forgive me.”

  Kelm gave Maebus a huge hug, patting him on the back.

  “Of course I do. You’re my brother,” Kelm stated.

  “From another mother,” Maebus jokingly added.

  Both men stood in silent reflection, watching the Realmsic sun rise over the land.

  “I don’t mean to cut this short,” Kelm said, “but the council is awake, and our military is packed and ready to travel. Everyone’s awaiting your marching order.”

  “Well,” Maebus said, reaching to the ground to grab his battle helmet, “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The Warlord was certainly pleased with himself. With the help of General Thane, he had devised what he felt was a perfect military strategy for his campaign against the Uncharted Lands. For days, they had worked in secrecy, analyzing every detail and toiling over potential pitfalls. Even with the recent chaos and heightened security around the castle, they had remained on task. At last, Damian felt that their plan was ready to be shared. Yet, understanding the magnitude of what he was proposing, he had to be careful regarding how much information he would initially reveal.

  A high-priority summons was sent to all twenty Legionarie Generals, calling for their mandatory audience with the Warlord. At the specified day and time, they would arrive at the Great Hall, and Damian would walk from his personal quarters to join them. He was certain no one knew what to expect during their meeting. It was well known throughout the castle that he was extremely displeased over the recent escape of King Maebus. Undoubtedly, the officers had seen patrol soldiers walking around with bruises. And being the Legion’s highest commanding officers—and ultimately the ones most responsible—they probably now feared they would endure far worse. Perhaps they even deserved far worse.

  As ordered, the officers filled the Great Hall during the day of the meeting. The air was nearly sucked out of the room as the chamber doors blew open. All rose to their feet as Damian strode swiftly and confidently to the council table. There, the throne seat that once belonged to Maebus awaited him. With General Thane standing by his side, Damian sat firmly and placed his hands on the armrests. Not one officer dared take their seat until Damian instructed them to do so.

  The chamber, with its stone interior and high ceilings, remained eerily silent. Yet, Damian did not immediately begin. His gaze picked out each individual, one at a time, seeming to peer imperiously into their souls. Several silent minutes passed before he felt content enough to speak.

  “We are an army that does not revel in its past accomplishments,” Damian began. “For we are a force that is ever moving forward. It doesn’t matter that in our short existence, we have achieved what many believed to be impossible, for we can do it again … and again we will.”

  Damian sat forward in his seat. “Look around yourselves. It is not by coincidence that you are sitting here. Through sheer merit and ability, you have been placed among the highest soldiers of our Legion; the elite of the elite. And yet … it was all of you who allowed the Realmsic King’s escape!”

  Damian glanced across the table again at each of his officers. Not a soul dared move probably for fear of being singled out. In fact, the room had actually gotten quieter than it already was.

  Damian unexpectedly rose to his feet and pointed.

  “All of you have failed me, and your punishment should be death. However, I am not here to pass judgment upon you, nor did I summon you here for persecution, as I truly believe that you will never fail me in such a manner again.”

  Damian left the throne seat and walked towards the draped world map. He’d spent many nights in front of it, obsessing over it. With his back towards his congregation, he c
ontinued speaking.

  “Before you all, upon this map, is the world as we know it … the world as we think we know it. According to this map, our Realmsic world stretches from the mountains of the Northern Lands to the grasslands of the Hellish South Plains; from the barren desert Lands of the East, to the borders of the non-magical Western Nations. And in the epicenter of it all is the kingdom of Centre Pointe.

  “But maps can be deceiving for, in reality, we live in a vast world where the Realm is but a speck surrounded by Uncharted Lands. It’s true that our Legion is now in our most powerful position, and that we alone now control the known world. But it does not mean we control the whole world … and that for me is problematic.

  “Those of you familiar with Realmsic history will recall that during the establishment of this kingdom, it was arguably at its most powerful. As a result, the kingdom found itself in perpetual war both against itself and against those hoping to seize its power. The conflict lasted two millennia, with Magicals and Laymen suffering alike. I dare not repeat history, which is why I’ve spent so much time seeking the Realmsic Crystal. Now that we have it, our position has been solidified, for there is no one in the known world that would challenge us. However, I cannot say for certain that we are safe.

  “Who is to say what danger exists beyond our Realmsic borders? Who’s to say that we ourselves would not be targeted someday by some unforeseen threat? Although we are a Legion ever moving forward, we are also a Legion that dreams of peace. Yet, my greatest nightmare would be to finally obtain ultimate power, only to suffer the same endless fate as the Realmsic Kingdom. Therefore, I decree that until all falls under one rule—our rule—there can be no peace!”