Destroyer of Legends

by Clayton Wood

  “FAMILY,” Xerxes agreed.

  * * *

  After Xerxes left – making it quite clear that Hunter needed to visit soon and often – Vi went inside her house, leaving Sukri and Hunter outside on the larger island. Sukri turned to Hunter.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Come on,” Hunter said, gesturing for her to walk back across the long wooden bridge toward the crescent-shaped shore beyond. There were trees there…including the same tree Vi had first taught him to fire a bow at. He brought Sukri there, stopping her a good twenty feet away. He could still see the holes in the rough bark where he’d managed to hit it. After a bit of practice, that was. And a whole lot of shit-talking from Vi.

  He handed the bow and quiver to Sukri.

  “Hit that from here,” he ordered, gesturing at the tree.

  Sukri grabbed an arrow, nocking it correctly on the bowstring…which meant she had some experience.

  “Put your index finger and ring fingers above the shaft of the arrow, and your ring finger below,” Hunter instructed. Sukri did so. “Draw it back.”

  Sukri drew the bowstring back, but her elbow dropped a little.

  “Keep your elbow up. Legs planted,” Hunter ordered. “Toes pointed perpendicular to the target. Good.”

  Sukri glanced at Hunter.

  “Eyes on the target,” he prompted. “Let go with your fingers only…don’t move your arm.”

  Sukri did so, and the arrow shot forward, missing the trunk by a few inches and hitting the wall of the canyon beyond.

  “Damn,” she swore.

  “Try again,” he ordered. Sukri grabbed another arrow, nocking it. Then she glanced at him.

  “This how Vi taught you?” she asked. Hunter smiled.

  “Yep.”

  Sukri fired again, and the arrow struck the tree this time…but too low.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed.

  “Too low,” Hunter stated. “Hit it at your chest level. Your straight arm is dropping…keep it pointing at your target.”

  “Got it.”

  “Then prove it,” Hunter shot back. Sukri gave him a withering glare, but attempted to do just that, setting up, then firing another arrow. It struck the tree at chest level this time.

  “Yeah!” Sukri exclaimed, flashing Hunter a grin. “Told you I had it!”

  Hunter rolled his eyes, grabbing the bow from Sukri, along with three arrows. He turned about then, walking up to the long wooden bridge, then across it until he was standing at the other end. He turned around then, nocking an arrow, then firing. And again, and again.

  Then he walked back to Sukri, who was staring at the tree trunk. All three arrows had struck…in a tight cluster around hers. He grimaced; Vi had done the same trick, but had been so good she’d split each arrow with the one after it. He still wasn’t as good as she was…but Sukri was clearly impressed.

  “Boom,” he quipped, smirking at her.

  “Damn,” Sukri muttered.

  “Come on buttercup,” he stated, slapping her hard on the butt. “Impress me.”

  They practiced for the next hour or so, and then Hunter brought her up to the forest above the canyon to hunt. It was an abysmal failure, of course. Eventually Hunter had to take over, shooting down a few birds on his first try…much to Sukri’s amazement, and chagrin. They went back down to the canyon then, returning to the larger island where Vi’s house was. Hunter taught Sukri how to make a fire and dress the carcasses, then roasted the birds. The smell of cooking meat lured Vi out of her home, and they all sat by the campfire to enjoy a very late lunch.

  “Mmm,” Sukri murmured as she chowed down. “This is really good.”

  “Sure is,” Vi agreed. She glanced up at Hunter, who – after three days of not eating – had a seemingly bottomless appetite. “God, this is so wrong,” she stated. Hunter frowned.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re eating your own kind,” she pointed out. Hunter glanced down at the piece of meat in his hands, then shrugged, polishing it off.

  “Guess I’m delicious,” he replied.

  “I can vouch for that,” Sukri piped in.

  “Gonna throw up now,” Vi grumbled. But she did quite the opposite, eating more of Hunter’s catch. They spent the rest of the meal in contented silence, eating until there was nothing left to eat. Then they all sat back, their bellies sated and their minds at ease.

  “So,” Hunter said, eyeing Vi. “What now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…what now?” he repeated. “I found Mom, the Kingdom and the Ironclad are at peace, I’ve neutralized Zaggie, we’ve killed Zagamar. Everyone I wanted revenge on is either sorry or dead.” He sighed. “I don’t have anything left to do.”

  “That’s a first,” Vi agreed.

  “I know,” Sukri piped in. “For the first time in my life, I’m myself…and I’m around people that don’t want me to be anyone else. It’s…weird. Good, but weird.”

  “It’s called being happy,” Vi offered.

  “Is that what this is?” Sukri asked.

  “Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Hunter replied.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on resting on my laurels,” Vi declared, throwing a stick into the fire. “I’m going right back to doing what I do best: being a Seeker.”

  “After you train me?” Sukri asked hopefully.

  “After I finish training you,” she corrected. “You did pretty well back there at the wall.”

  “Yeah,” Sukri agreed, extending her claws. “These things are pretty badass.”

  “We’ll train for a few weeks, then we’re out of here,” Vi decided. “If I’m gonna make halfway decent Seekers out of you, you’ll need on-the-job training.”

  “I got some of that already,” Hunter offered. “I got through the Crypt of Zagamar, after all.”

  “With my sword,” she retorted. “Without it, you wouldn’t have even gotten in.”

  “Granted.”

  “This time we’ll find artifacts without getting possessed by a world-ending demonic bastard,” Vi declared. “It’s about time you started building up your stash.”

  “Stash?”

  “Collection of artifacts,” she clarified. “We collect artifacts, take what’s useful from them into ourselves, and make ourselves better, bit-by-bit. That’s what a Seeker does.”

  “I’m game,” Sukri stated.

  “Sounds good to me,” Hunter agreed.

  “Three weeks of training, then we’re off,” Vi decided. “I’ve got a few tips that need following up on. If I’m right – and I usually am – we’re going to find some really good shit.”

  “Ooo, sounds like an adventure,” Sukri said, rubbing her paws together eagerly. Vi grinned.

  “Oh it will be,” she confirmed. “Trust me.” She got up then. “All right lovebirds, I’m headed to bed.”

  “What?” Sukri blurted out. “It’s not even dark yet!”

  “Sleep is good for the mind,” Vi replied. “You should get some too. Gonna be long days ahead, Puss. Take care of your body and mind, and you might get through them.”

  With that, she waved goodbye, then went into her house, closing – and locking – the door behind her. Sukri stared at the door, then gave Hunter a quizzical look.

  “So…where do we sleep?” she inquired.

  “Over there,” Hunter answered, gesturing across the long wooden bridge to the narrow crescent of rocky shore near the canyon wall. The animal skins that had served as his bed were still there, undoubtedly a little moldy now. Sukri gave them a dubious look, and Hunter got up, stretching his legs. He led her over the wooden bridge to the shore, and their bed. They aired out each animal skin, then laid them on the rocky ground. Hunter peeled off his armor, keeping his helmet on – as always – then lying down. Sukri did the same, removing every last bit of armor. Then – naked save for her fur – she laid down next to him.

  “This isn’t so bad,” she murmured, snug
gling up to him. Then she frowned. “What do we do if it rains?”

  “Get wet,” he answered.

  “And Vi just…”

  “Sleeps under a roof,” Hunter finished for her. “Yep.”

  “Wow, what a bitch.”

  “I know, right?” Hunter replied. He frowned then. “You know what? I just realized she’s forcing me to build my own house.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s why she made me sleep out here. She built her house all by herself, and I bet you she was just waiting for me to ask her to teach me how.” He slapped himself in the forehead. “Wow, I can’t believe I missed that.”

  “Huh.”

  “I’ll ask her in the morning,” he muttered wearily. For, even though it was still somewhat light out, his full belly – and the day’s exertions – had tired him out. An early sleep was just what he needed. He closed his eyes, laying on his back, Sukri on her side against him. She put a hand on his chest, then slid it down to his belly.

  “You didn’t say goodnight,” she accused.

  “Goodnight.”

  She fell silent, warm against him, her soft fur like a nice heated blanket. So much better than sleeping alone.

  “Hunter,” he heard her say.

  “Hmm?”

  “I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, sliding her hand down to his belly…and not stopping there. He felt her hand on his groin. “I need help,” she added, stroking him through his pants. His groin responded.

  “Want me to put you to sleep?” he asked, opening his eyes. He saw her big, golden eyes twinkle.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Far be it from me to deny a lady,” Hunter murmured, giving her a grin and rolling onto his side to face her. She arched one furry eyebrow.

  “So you aren’t in the habit of denying a Lady?” she inquired, with an all-too-obvious emphasis on the last word. Hunter grimaced, rolling back onto his back.

  “And you just killed the mood,” he grumbled. She laughed, climbing atop him and leaning in to give him a kiss.

  “I’ll bring it back to life,” she promised.

  “Can’t we just cuddle?”

  “After,” she promised.

  “So I don’t have a choice in the matter?” he pressed. She smiled sweetly, planting another kiss on his lips.

  “Nope.”

  “Story of my life,” he grumbled.

  They kissed again, and then Sukri laid her head on his chest, her body warm and soft against his.

  “So this is it, huh?” she murmured. “Vi trains us to be Seekers, and we go out collecting artifacts and stuff.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Maybe have some babies along the way,” she added. He frowned.

  “Not anytime soon, I hope.”

  “Nah,” Sukri replied. “Gotta make sure this whole thing works out first.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. I give it a year or two before we hate each other.”

  “Works for me,” he agreed.

  “Wonder what they’d look like?” Sukri stated. “Our babies, I mean.”

  “Don’t wanna think about that.”

  “Well, I guess they’ll be like us,” Sukri decided. “Misfits.”

  Hunter nodded, staring up at the sky. The sun was setting, the three moons of Varta glowing in the darkening sky. They were all misfits, he realized. Himself, Sukri…even Gammon and Kris had been, back in the Outskirts. Misfits searching for acceptance. Looking for a place – and a people – to belong to. The Guild of Seekers had been a cult, the Kingdom more of a religion. And Lady Camilla had been pure business, a relationship of convenience…where she always managed to profit at his – and everyone else’s – expense.

  But in Vi, he’d found something else. Someone who cared. Who accepted him for who he was and only wanted him to be a better version of himself, not to change into someone else. Who demanded that he be better. And Xerxes, well, the big guy loved Hunter for who he was, no matter what.

  He’d failed to become part of something big, and instead had found meaning in becoming part of something small. A family of misfits. Misfits that had somehow managed to save the world.

  Hunter smiled, stroking Sukri’s back, running his fingers through her thick, short fur.

  “Ever wonder if this is it?” Sukri asked. “Like, we’ve just experienced the most interesting moments of our life, and everything after this is gonna be boring in comparison?”

  Hunter considered this.

  “Nah,” he answered. “Knowing Vi, she’s going to get us into a whole lot of trouble soon enough.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I know so,” he confirmed.

  And that was just fine by him.

  Epilogue

  A breeze whipped over the desolate landscape, a desert of rock and yellow dirt that extended in all directions for as far as the eye could see. The sun glared down from a cloudless sky, the air warmer now than it’d been in months. Spring was coming, but not a soul lived in this wasteland, plant or animal, the earth having been salted long ago.

  And then he arrived.

  A man appeared out of thin air a few feet from the ground, falling to the dirt with a thump. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing. His limbs jerked rhythmically, froth dripping from the side of his mouth.

  A minute passed.

  The jerking stopped, and the man lay still on the dirt, the front of his loose black pants wet with urine. He was middle-aged, with short salt-and-pepper hair and a goatee, his clothes covered in dust.

  He lay there on his side, barely breathing, staring off into space.

  And then he blinked.

  More time passed, and the man came to his senses gradually, rolling onto his back and staring up at the sky. Then he sat up, rubbing his temples and looking around, squinting against the harsh sunlight.

  His head was pounding.

  The stench of urine reached his nostrils, and he grimaced, looking down at the wet stain on his groin.

  The hell?

  He tried to remember how he’d gotten here, and couldn’t. His mind felt hazy, as if his memories were too far away to grasp.

  Must’ve had another seizure.

  He’d had at least two in the last few weeks, as best as he could remember. A devastating reminder of just how far he’d fallen over the years. And of how many years he’d lost himself in bottle after bottle, drowning his pain in alcohol. Trying desperately to fill the hole inside his heart.

  Where am I?

  He spun around in a slow circle, the movement making him a little nauseous. Desert all around him…and nothing else. He cleared his throat, realizing the sides of his tongue were throbbing…and that he could taste blood.

  Shielding his eyes with one hand, he looked around again, seeing nothing but dirt and rocks. The landscape was mostly flat, save for a hill that sloped upward to his left.

  He wracked his brain, trying to remember what’d happened before this. He’d been driving in his car, going somewhere. It’d been urgent. Something terribly important.

  But the memory led nowhere.

  The sky above was bright blue, not a cloud in it. There were no birds flying overhead; only the moon in the distance, barely visible in the daylight.

  And another moon nearby…and a third moon.

  The man stared at them in disbelief, rubbing his eyes, then looking again.

  What in the holy hell?

  He stood there for a long moment, then closed his eyes.

  I’m dreaming.

  Opening his eyes, he looked down at his left forearm, pinching it. There was immediate pain.

  His heart began to pound in his chest, fear gripping his guts. He took a deep breath, then another, forcing himself to calm down.

  Okay, he thought. Think.

  He studied the dirt, looking for footprints, but there were none.

  Get help.

  The landscape stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see, save for the hill. If he coul
d get to the top of that hill, he’d have a better vantage point to study the terrain. He started up the gentle slope, his sneakers crunching on the dirt and small pebbles underfoot. After a few minutes of this, the terrain leveled off.

  He froze in his tracks.

  For there, perhaps a thousand feet ahead, stood a long row of large wooden pillars. They had to be at least twenty feet tall, and supported what appeared to be a stone bridge that extended to the left and right as far as the eye could see. He felt an immediate burst of hope.

  If there were bridges, there were people.

  An image of a black stone arch came to him then, bordering a wall of utter blackness. A memory of hesitating before it, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Do it, he’d told himself. You don’t have anything to live for anymore.

  He’d stood there, staring into the blackness of oblivion.

  Do it!

  He blinked, snapping himself out of the memory. Remembering what he’d done. He’d touched the wall, his hand vanishing within.

  I must’ve gone through, he realized, a smile curling his lips. He laughed out loud, relief coursing through him.

  He’d gone through, and he hadn’t died. Which meant…

  Focus.

  He studied the bridge carefully, then looked down. There were footprints in the dirt now. Lots of them. He squatted, peering at them carefully. They were all going in one direction: leftward, following the bridge.

  He turned left, following the footprints for several minutes. The barren landscape sloped upward again, the bridge sloping upward with it; he climbed the slope, then frowned, studying the terrain ahead. There were long lines in the dirt, as if a rake had been run over it. A rake with thousands of tines stretching for a few hundred feet on either side of the bridge.

  Huh.

  He continued to hike up the slope, having to stop to catch his breath a few times. It surprised him how out of shape he was; he’d been incredibly fit a decade ago. Years of neglecting his body had worn him down, making him weak. A shadow of the man he’d been.

  But he was here now. He’d crossed over.

  Things were going to be different from now on. He was going to be different.

  He continued forward, huffing and puffing until at long last he reached the top of the slope. Closing his eyes, he bent over, resting his hands on his knees and forcing himself to slow his breathing. Then he stood up straight, opening his eyes.