Destroyer of Legends

by Clayton Wood

  Chapter 33

  It was already sunset by the time Hunter reached the Lady’s mansion, the sky an angry red-purple with the last of the sun’s dying rays. Hunter aimed toward it, flying a good hundred feet above. Dominus was secured to his waist by a makeshift harness Vi had devised, a necessity given that Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hold the man for the whole flight. And also because he almost certainly would’ve given in to the temptation to “accidently” drop the bastard. He glided down toward the gate at the fence surrounding the property, enjoying the descent. Landing was his favorite part of flying, the transition between utter freedom and being once again bound by the laws of man. It was a reminder of what he’d gained at the Kingdom of the Deep…a gift he was infinitely glad he’d been given.

  He glided to the ground a few yards before the gate, making sure to land a bit harder than he normally would have. Dominus unlatched himself from the harness right before they struck the ground, landing with a grunt and stumbling forward awkwardly. Somehow the man managed to keep his balance, much to Hunter’s disappointment. He landed ahead of Dominus, folding his wings and striding up to the gate. The guard beyond stared at him, then at Dominus approaching behind him.

  “Open up,” Hunter ordered.

  The guard ignored him, eyeing Dominus.

  “Do as he says,” the former duke stated.

  The guard unlocked the gate, opening it and gesturing for them to come through. They strode down the crushed stone path to the front entrance of the mansion, passing the field of crops on either side. Two more guards stood on either side of the double-doors leading into the mansion.

  “We bring urgent news for the Lady,” Dominus declared, stopping before them.

  One of the guards nodded, opening the door and stepping through, closing it behind him. Moments later, the door re-opened, and the guard gestured for them to enter.

  The Lady’s mansion was just as Hunter remembered it, with cherry wood floors and ornate red wooden columns supporting the ceiling high above. They walked through the large foyer, passing through a doorway to the room beyond. A familiar staircase greeted him ahead, and an even more familiar woman was stepping down it. A woman in a blood-red dress, a tight corset studded with rubies glittering in the lantern-light. Long dark hair cascaded to her lower back, her corset plunging deeply in the front to reveal her impressive bust.

  Hunter grimaced, resisting the urge to finger the hilt of his sword, and stopped a few yards before the stairs, watching as Lady Camilla made her way gracefully to the bottom. She arched an eyebrow at Hunter.

  “Well well,” she greeted, giving him a little smile. “What an unexpected surprise.” She gazed at him for a moment. “My my,” she added. “What marvelous wings.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” Hunter retorted.

  “Still upset I see,” Camilla replied calmly. Hunter glared at her.

  “Gee, wonder why?”

  “Oh Hunter,” she said, giving him an apologetic look. “All I ever wanted was to protect you.”

  “I think you wanted a little more than that,” he retorted. She gave him that infuriating smile of hers, and shrugged.

  “Perhaps so,” she conceded. “But I was still acting in your best interest.”

  “Really?” he replied incredulously. “That’s what you’re going with?”

  “It wasn’t all bad, as I recall.”

  Hunter grimaced, remembering their…interactions.

  “Don’t fool yourself,” he shot back.

  “Oh please Hunter,” she replied. “You struggled for a while, but we both know that, in the end, you were practically begging for it.” Her smile broadened. “Go on,” she added. “Deny it.”

  Hunter grimaced, clenching his fists at his sides. He had enjoyed it, at least at the last moments, when she’d brought him to the point of orgasm. He remembered giving in at last, going from hating her to desperately hoping she wouldn’t stop. Remembered the ecstasy of that moment, of giving in to his baser desires. Of allowing the unthinkable.

  “You needn’t worry anymore,” Lady Camilla continued. “I got what I wanted from you. Besides, current events being what they are, it appears we have far too much of Zagamar to go around.”

  “You mean the Svartálfar,” Hunter stated.

  “Correct,” she replied. She turned to Dominus. “Hello Dominus,” she greeted. “I assume you told Tykus?”

  “I did,” Dominus confirmed. He gave a short debriefing on what had happened, including the Ironclad attack on the Kingdom, and their conversation and proposed alliance with Tykus. Camilla listened intently without interruption until Dominus was done.

  “I’ve already received word from the Kingdom of the Deep,” she revealed. “They’re mobilizing their…considerable resources to take out the Svartálfar. And Zagamar, of course.”

  “We should coordinate with the Kingdom’s soldiers,” Dominus stated. “They’re marching south from Tykus to contain the Svartálfar. Hunter will help scout for the locations of the Svartálfar and, if possible, Zagamar.”

  “Unnecessary,” Camilla retorted. “My scouts are already doing so, as are the Kingdom of the Deep’s countless bird-people. We have more eyes in the sky than we need.”

  “We’ll need to share that intel,” Dominus noted. Camilla nodded.

  “Of course,” she agreed. Then she turned back to Hunter. “We do have to address the issue of your…involvement with Zagamar,” she added.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hunter demanded.

  “You have Zagamar inside of you,” she explained. “And he will slowly take over, until you are a second version of him. Likely a lesser Legend, but still with the power to create clones of him. We can’t allow that.”

  “So what, you’d just kill me?”

  “Well, I’d start by tying you down,” Camilla replied with a little smirk. Hunter glared at her.

  “Not necessary. I’ve already taken care of it.”

  “Oh really?” she inquired.

  “I went to the Deep and locked him away.”

  “Ah,” she replied, inclining her head. “A bold decision. I’m impressed that you survived the Deep,” she added. “Well done, Hunter.”

  “You have no idea how much that means to me,” Hunter grumbled.

  “Come,” she stated, turning and walking back up the stairs. “I’ll fill you in on what we know.”

  * * *

  The large library in the upper level of Camilla’s suite was just as Hunter remembered it, with shelves on the walls holding countless priceless artifacts and a huge map of Varta on one wall. A large table sat near the middle of the room, another map draped over it. Hunter stood over it with Camilla and Dominus; it too was a map of Varta, focusing on Tykus to the north, bordering the sea, and the Kingdom of the Deep to the south. The Deep was further south, and far below were other kingdoms Hunter had never heard of.

  The Lady had placed numerous small black tokens on the map, and it was to these that she directed their attention.

  “According to my scouts, these are the locations of the Svartálfar,” she explained. “Their range extends from this mountain range,” she added, pointing to mountains to the east, which Hunter recognized as the general location of the Crypt of Zagamar, “…east to the River Ormr.”

  “They haven’t crossed the river?” Dominus inquired.

  “Not yet,” Camilla confirmed. “They’re moving south, but staying twenty or so kilometers north of the Kingdom of the Deep. Others have made it even farther north than here,” she continued. “The bulk of the Svartálfar seem to be making their way toward the Fringe.”

  Dominus frowned.

  “How far away are they from Castle Wexford?” he inquired. Camilla hesitated for a moment.

  “I assume your former duchy will be destroyed shortly,” the Lady stated apologetically. Dominus grimaced, but did not reply. “That puts the Svartálfar some seventy kilometers from Tykus,” she continued. “And while their migration south has stal
led, they’re moving rapidly northward.”

  “Zagamar’s aiming to take out Tykus first,” Hunter guessed.

  “It is the easier target,” Camilla agreed.

  “But is it?” Hunter pressed. “You’ve got big-ass wall surrounding the whole thing.”

  “And once that wall is breached, there are only humans defending it,” Camilla pointed out. “The Kingdom of the Deep has defenses you can only imagine…and some you would not be able to. Like the Guardians.”

  “The Guardians?”

  “Ancient beings that repelled the first incarnation of Zagamar,” Camilla explained. “Two of the few known beings to survive the Greater Deep.”

  “The what?”

  “The Deep, as you know, is a large pit. The Lesser Deep is the uppermost level of the pit, and the Greater Deep is much further down. The power of the Deep is greater the deeper one descends into it. And the deeper one goes, the less likely they will survive the process.”

  Hunter remembered the huge snake-like thing they’d fought just outside the deep, and the mass graveyard of creatures around the massive pit, and nodded.

  “The Lesser Deep can merge living things,” Lady Camilla lectured. “The Greater Deep, well…it can merge the living with the non-living.” She gestured at the map. “In any case, we know the extent of the Svartálfars’ current habitat. Zagamar will continue to create more, and they will not stay in one place for long.”

  “Why not?” Hunter asked.

  “They’re voracious eaters,” Camilla answered. “Just like the dark elves of old. Some say their appetite is what destroyed them after Zagamar died thousands of years ago. They consumed everything around them, and had nothing left.”

  “So they starved to death,” Hunter realized.

  “Correct.”

  “Tykus confirms this,” Dominus stated. “There were few left when he arrived through the Gate, and most were found dying of hunger or already dead.”

  “And that’s how my scouts know where they’ve been,” Camilla said. “Everywhere they go, the vegetation and animal life is decimated.”

  “Zagamar has an incredibly fast metabolism,” Hunter admitted. “I can turn it on and off at will.” He explained the sensation of becoming Zagamar, including the hunger, the fact that everything around him seemed slow…and Zagamar’s formidable intelligence.

  “That certainly explains their appetites,” Camilla reasoned. She gazed at Hunter with newfound interest. “Perhaps your ability to conjure Zagamar could come in handy. We could use it to understand his motives and plans…and we could use that accelerated intelligence to find a way to stop him.”

  “Maybe,” Hunter conceded. “But he knows some of what I know. He might refuse to go against himself, so to speak.”

  “Can you find a way to access his intelligence but control it?” she pressed.

  “I can try.”

  “I would appreciate it,” Camilla stated. He grimaced, feeling uncomfortable with her sudden civility.

  “I wouldn’t be doing it for you,” he retorted.

  “Allies don’t need to be friends,” she pointed out, smiling at him. “Isn’t that right, Dominus?”

  “It is,” Dominus agreed.

  “You said the Kingdom of the Deep was already mobilizing its army to take out Zagamar?” Hunter asked, changing the subject.

  “That’s right,” she answered.

  “Isn’t he transforming everything around him into him?” Hunter pressed. “What if everyone we throw at him just turns into Svartálfar?”

  “That takes time,” she explained. “And Zagamar would have to let them get close to him to do such a thing. He won’t risk it.”

  “So the Ironclad and Tykus should intercept the Svartálfar at the Fringe,” Dominus interjected. “The Kingdom of the Deep can take them out from the south, and your scouts can track the movements of any remaining Svartálfar.”

  “And close in on Zagamar himself, restricting his movement and preventing him from creating more Svartálfar,” Camilla concluded. “That’s the plan.”

  “I don’t know,” Hunter grumbled. “That’s a pretty simple plan. Zagamar’s a lot smarter than you’re giving him credit for.”

  “Plans can be simple,” Camilla countered. “The key is in the execution.”

  Hunter looked down at the map, still unconvinced.

  “Conjure Zagamar,” Camilla urged, gesturing at Hunter. “Prove us wrong.”

  Hunter sighed, the nodded, closing his eyes. Luckily he hadn’t eaten since the attack; hunger made it far easier to bring Zagamar out from the dark recesses of his mind.

  He focused on the hunger, and the chanting of thousands of men called out to him, summoning their ancient master.

  Seconds later, he opened his eyes, beads of sweat rising on his forehead, his breath coming in short gasps. He looked at Dominus, then at Lady Camilla.

  “We,” he declared, “…are in deep shit.”

  Chapter 34

  Sukri stood with Vi at the entrance to a medium-sized underground room deep within the Ironclad lair, the sound of water flowing magnified by the room’s stone walls. A small waterfall flowed down one wall, coming from a horizontal crack in the stone. It flowed down to a shallow trench that had been dug around the perimeter of the room and in a grid spanning the floor, forming a makeshift cipher room with numerous square platforms.

  And on those platforms were countless artifacts and Ossae.

  “Say hello to my collection,” Vi said, gesturing at her stuff. “I had the Ironclad take most of my stash from my house in Canyon Falls to this place. You have no idea how much this stuff is worth.”

  “More than I’ll ever make,” Sukri guessed.

  “Definitely,” Vi agreed.

  Sukri watched as Vi stepped carefully through the room, coming to one of the squares and picking something up, returning it to her. It was a necklace with numerous black claws on it.

  “Put this on,” she instructed.

  “What is it?” Sukri asked, eyeing the necklace suspiciously.

  “Don’t worry, your personality is strong enough not to be changed by it,” Vi reassured. “It’s the claws of one of the better cat-people warriors who’d ever lived. Now put it on.”

  Sukri obeyed, pulling it over her head. Its claws rested on her upper chest.

  “This’ll jump-start your training,” Vi informed her. “Now we gotta get you some armor. Our blacksmith made you something.”

  Sukri followed Vi out of the room and back into the maze of tunnels beyond. Vi led her through them, and after a few minutes, the rhythmic sound of metal banging on metal came to her ears. Her hearing was also quite a bit better than it’d been before, she’d noticed. Yet another perk of her transformation.

  “Here we are,” Vi said as they reached a large room ahead. It was a good fifteen meters squared, the ceiling four meters high. Its walls, unlike the cipher room and many of the tunnels, were made of brick. A large Ironclad stood on one end of the room, banging a red-hot piece of metal lying on an anvil with a large hammer. There were shelves and shelves – and more shelves – filled with pieces of armor and weapons. “Hey Amido,” she greeted, waving at the Ironclad.

  Amido nodded at her, stopping his banging.

  “This is Hunter’s girl,” Vi introduced. Sukri smiled.

  “Hi,” she greeted.

  Amido grunted, setting his hammer down and striding up to one of the shelves, pulling something from it. A few pieces of black and silver armor piled on top of each other. He handed this to Sukri, who grabbed it, half-expecting to drop right to the floor under its weight. But it was shockingly light, barely heavier than leather clothes would’ve been.

  “Go on, try ‘em out,” Vi prompted. “Need to make sure they fit.”

  Sukri did so, pulling on her top first. It was a black padded shirt of sorts, with very thin fabric at her joints.

  “Notice the layers,” Vi instructed. “It’s designed to absorb foreign wills and reduce their
effect on you.”

  Sukri nodded, pulling on the next piece: a black and silver chain-mail top. It was tight-fitting, multilayered, and with sleeves that went down to her wrists.

  “Chain-mail will let you move around more freely,” Vi explained. “No point in putting you in full plate mail if your main strength is your agility.”

  “So don’t get hit,” Sukri translated. Vi smirked.

  “Don’t get hit too hard,” she corrected.

  There were padded leggings and chain-mail armor to match, and even gloves that protected everything but her palms and the last digits of each finger, allowing her to use her claws and grip with her palms for climbing. And a helmet as well…black and silver, like the rest of her armor.

  “How do I look?” Sukri inquired, giving Vi a little turn.

  “I’d hit it,” Vi replied with a grin.

  “Don’t think Hunter would appreciate that,” Sukri shot back. “Okay, now what?”

  “Now for your weapon,” Vi replied. “You said you liked Dio’s staff, right?”

  “No, but Dio thought I had some talent for it.”

  “Then staff it is,” Vi decided. Amido grabbed a staff from one of the shelves, tossing it at Vi, who caught it, handing it to Sukri. It was wrought of black metal, and surprisingly light for its size. There were ridges in various places along its length for gripping, and sharp spikes at edge end, with blades along the sides near the end, kind of like a halberd.

  “Wow,” Sukri breathed, giving it a slow twirl. “Now that’s sexy.”

  “Amido does good work,” Vi said, nodding at the Ironclad, who grunted back…and immediately resumed working on whatever it was he was making. “All right,” Vi added. “Go back to your cabin and get some sleep. Do it naked and wear that necklace so you can absorb some skills. Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to not die.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Vi took Sukri to a small clearing in the forest just outside Ironclad territory. Sukri stood there in her new armor, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, a long wooden staff in her hands. Vi had a wooden longsword, and faced Sukri, standing two meters away.