The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)

by Michael Foster

  ‘Leopold!’ came a cry as his mother ran down beside him. ‘Are you all right?’ She cupped her hands to his cheeks to ensure he was not harmed. When she was sure he was safe, she looked towards the sea with worry.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Leopold asked her.

  The woman shook her head. ‘Your father raced outside.’ She looked to the old man with curiosity, and then back to the ocean, as two great watery streams snaked in the sky, slapping together with violent clashes that battered and churned the sea. The noise of their battle was rolling thunder across the waves. ‘Who is out there with him?’

  ‘I don’t know. A magician.’

  The ocean became muddled and turbulent as the violence rendered above it took effect; the wind blew from all directions at once. Waves arrived larger and angrier, full of foam and angst, heaving higher and heavier upon the sand. The few boats in the distance raced quickly away.

  Leopold and his mother ducked down as, without warning, the two men flashed over their heads with a roar of wind, showering them with sea spray and sand. The air blasted and blinded, and when they opened their eyes, they could see tendrils of powder spiralling up from the dunes, transforming the stream of water that surrounded the men from clear to solid white. Barely visible at the forefront of one serpentine length was his father and in the other, the black outline of the magician.

  Leopold lowered his gaze to find his mother gone from his side. He followed after her to ensure she was safe.

  ‘Who are you?’ she was asking the old man with the stick in his hand.

  The fellow was startled from his observing the battle, but reached over and took her hands into his withered palms. He stroked her skin with gentle, caressing movements, as if holding a sleeping kitten. ‘Beautiful woman,’ he said, gazing at her fingers.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  The fellow turned his wrinkled face to hers, his eyes tightly shut. His lips quivered, while he took part in a colossal struggle to gather his scattered wits. ‘Apologies, My Lady,’ he said. His lips slightly apart, but the effort seemed too much. Defeated, he dropped her hand and returned his attention towards the sea.

  Leopold followed the battle, frustrated and feeling useless, as his father jousted in mid-air with the magician. It infuriated him that he could not help. Then an idea came to mind. Perhaps there was something he could do. He raced away and over the dunes, ignoring the cries of his mother calling after him.

  The path to their house wound from the shore. He was panting and breathless when he passed the trees between the hills and burst into their home; fire roaring bright and warm in its hearth. He ran straight into his parent’s room and to his father’s chest beside their bed.

  He opened the chest and threw everything onto the floor, digging to the bottom until he found what he sought: a tiny wooden box, a varnished and decorated thing that fit in the palm of his hand. He had discovered it as a boy and, unfathomably, when his father had caught him looking at it, instead of chastising him, the man drew out a small, silver key from his pocket, unlocked the box, and showed him the wondrous object inside before again locking it safely away.

  Leopold had no time for keys and threw the container down. He stomped upon it ferociously with the heel of his foot until it cracked apart. Dropping to his knees, he tore the lid from its twisted hinges and leapt upon the glittering object that rolled out, burying it deep within his fist to keep it safe.

  He hurried from the house and back to the beach, feeling the rattling booms that rolled in from the sea as his father and the magician waged their battle, nervous with the knowledge that what he carried could save them all.

  His mother was standing beside the old man on the sand, watching the sky, horrified. As Leopold came to her side, one of the snaking tendrils of magic that curled above the sea pulled away from the other and turned back towards the shore. The other pursued it, close behind. The foremost stream, black at its core, headed towards them and carved a path across the wave tops, splitting the ocean in two. The second stream followed closely, and before they made landfall, it arched up, and with a sudden burst of speed, crashed into the first with a chaotic flash and thunderous noise.

  Leopold and his mother covered their ears as the black-cloaked magician smashed to the ground like a stone fallen from heaven, his dark robes whipping around, disappearing in a shower of sand as his impact shook the ground.

  The other stream of magic faltered. Its tail was reduced to almost nothing, and it circled back towards the sea to collect further mass. Perhaps his father’s decision had been rash, for it left them alone and defenceless with the magician, but Leopold knew what to do.

  He ran towards the fallen stranger as the fellow was shaking his head and struggling to climb from the bottom of the impression he had made with his landing.

  Leopold stood above him, readying the magical relic in his hand. ‘I won’t let you hurt my father!’ he cried as he shoved the silver ring upon his finger and pointed towards the stranger.

  He had expected something marvellous—wild magic to burst forth and smite the man—but nothing happened at all; only the magician pointed his finger to Leopold in return. Palm up, he made a beckoning motion, slowly waggling his finger.

  ‘No, Leopold!’ came a cry and his father vaulted down from the sky to land beside him, leaving his magical tail to continue and dissipate, a spatter of salty rain across the dunes.

  He was too late, for the ring turned to liquid around Leopold’s finger and flew away. Fluid streamed through the air directly into the magician, disappearing beneath the cloth of his robes, absorbed into his skin.

  With that, the man was rejuvenated. He stood straight and strong, and stepped brazenly from his sandy crater, returned to full strength.

  ‘Stop this!’ Leopold’s father commanded, standing between them.

  Fatigue was evident through the cracks in his brave facade. Leopold had never seen his father weary, yet now the man looked exhausted, trembling upon his legs to stay upright.

  The magician pulled back his hood to speak. His face was not youthful, yet set before his middle years. Deepening wrinkles crowded upon his brow and crept from the edges of his eyes. He looked morose and incapable of humour. ‘You have certainly aged gracefully, My Lady,’ he said, turning to Leopold’s mother. ‘You have caught up to your husband somewhat in years, while he has not aged a day since I last saw him.’

  Mother put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brows, unsure of what he was suggesting.

  The magician then returned his attention to Leopold. ‘And Leopold certainly takes after his father in nature, if not in appearance. Does he know?’

  ‘Hold your tongue!’ Leopold’s father commanded, incensed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Thann,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to harm you or your boy. Let us go somewhere warm to talk. I need your advice.’

  ‘Damn you, Samuel. I told you to leave me be. I want nothing to do with you or your vendetta against the world.’

  ‘My feud is not with the world. I want what you want—to protect my son.’

  ‘To protect your son is to damn the world. It is not possible to save both and you know it. I want no part of your schemes.’

  ‘You have little choice in the matter,’ the magician replied, taking his time to look along the shoreline, watching the disturbed waves tumbling upon the sand. ‘We have both changed since we last met. You are more powerful than I remember.’

  ‘You have seen no measure of my strength, Magician. I hold myself back lest I risk destroying this isle and my family with it.’

  ‘And I would say the same.’

  ‘But there is a difference between us, Samuel. You have grown stronger, but not all the power you wield is your own. Your presence is rank with the magic of the dark ones.’

  ‘I do what I must, Edmond, as we all do.’ The magician turned up one side of his lip, as part of his face momentarily attempted to smile. ‘Come, I have missed the company of you and your wife all these year
s. I would speak with you both in a more comfortable setting.’

  His father had no choice but to agree. ‘Very well, Samuel, but I cannot say the same thing in return. You seem to have none of the charm of the brave youth I remember.’

  ‘How true,’ the magician said, waiting to be shown the way.

  ****

  Their home, sheltered away from the brackish wind, was modest and comfortable. The magician called Samuel sat at the end of the table, while Leopold, his mother and father sat at the other facing the man like combatants across a field of war. There were enough chairs, but the magician’s companions happily sprawled on the floor, with the old man slapping the boy’s hand each time he neared the stove or stuck his fingers into the fire.

  ‘So, tell me, why you have come?’ Leopold’s father asked at last.

  ‘I’ve come to you for help, because no one else can help me.’

  ‘And what of these two? Why have you brought them? An idiot child and the witless brother of Janus Anthem?’

  ‘I thought Salu would shed some light on my worries, but he is rarely lucid. Even then, he does not seem to care enough to offer his advice. I hope he may one day divulge his wisdom, but I am not holding my breath. The boy communicates with him and I am thankful for that, and the old man keeps the boy from harm. Between the two of them, they get themselves fed and dressed, but not much more than that. Still, Salu is perhaps history’s greatest magician, so I put up with them both despite their failings.’

  ‘So you drag them along with you to see if they can be of some use, until they meet some terrible end by your side?’

  The magician nodded. ‘Yes. If that is what is required.’

  ‘I cannot fathom what has turned your heart to stone, Samuel,’ Leopold’s mother said, shaking her head. ‘I once had such faith in you, like no other. I remember the time you saved us, when you pulled my boy from the jaws of that Paatin beast. You were my champion; now I shudder every time I hear the stories of what you have done.’

  Leopold had no understanding of what she spoke, but she looked tearful at the thought of it.

  Samuel turned his chin towards her. ‘I cannot feel sorry for what I have become, good Lady. I must admit I have engrossed myself in my task, and the search for my son has no doubt affected me. After the loss of his mother and the Darkening falling upon us, the magicians’ change came upon me, and all love was drained from my heart. I cannot fathom what purpose it is supposed to serve, and only sorrow is left to keep me company.’

  ‘The Change is not a natural thing, Samuel,’ Leopold’s father revealed. ‘It was imposed to keep magicians sedate, to keep them focussed on their task of aiding mankind.’

  ‘Then perhaps that is also something I can address.’

  ‘And is that all you have accomplished all these years, searching for your child without result? Finding these two instead?’

  The magician answered with indifference. ‘I went hunting for Lomar and his master Poltamir. Eventually, I found them.’

  ‘And what happened?’ Leopold’s father asked with interest.

  ‘They were too powerful for me. We battled for three days before I learned they were merely playing games, toying with me for their own entertainment. They have my son, trapped inside an infernal box that keeps him from ever awakening. I almost had my hands on it—at least, that is what I thought at the time. Thankfully, during those moments I did have the chance to study it and memorise its workings. They cannot destroy him, but neither can he ever escape while the lid remains firm.’

  ‘Then that is why Lin has not yet shown his head,’ Leopold’s father said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully, ‘and perhaps why his influence over me has waned. They have him trapped. But surely they cannot hold him indefinitely?’

  ‘So far, it seems they have, but I cannot tell if they have yet benefitted from doing so—except to prolong their own existence.’

  ‘The pool of magic grows,’ Leopold’s father stated. ‘I feel it. Every life lost is power freed upon the world, and without Lin free to possess it, it remains unclaimed.’

  ‘Perhaps Poltamir is seeking to harness this power?’ the magician suggested.

  ‘Then I wish him good luck. If that box can hold Lin, so be it. Why do you continue to harry them and risk letting the Demon Lord out? Is it not enough that your son is alive? He would not suffer in their enchanted box; he would only sleep, unknowing and unfeeling of anything around him.’

  ‘I do not think a world ruled by Poltamir would be of benefit to anyone. He and Rei are doing quite a good job of being devils in their master’s stead. Instead of rebuilding the world after the Darkening, they continued its destruction. All I have done was for a purpose. Those two are simply evil, overcome with malice. Rei has filled Amandia with terror and I am sure Poltamir is doing the same. I feel him on the far side of the world, growing stronger every day. I find it very intriguing. He makes no attempts to hide his presence, yet Lomar—his underling—has taken to ground, perhaps fearing my wrath. Added to that, more hellish beasts are released upon the earth every day. Poltamir and Rei both are doing their best to rid the world of mankind.’

  ‘Amandia would not be in such a state if you had not unleashed the Darkening upon it,’ Leopold’s father told the magician sternly. ‘Garteny was wiped from existence in a flash and the winter that followed caused countless souls to starve or fall prey to disease. Smaller stones caused havoc across the world. Whether you meant it or not, your deeds have cost the world more lives than Rei and Poltamir together.’

  ‘Starfall was not my doing. In fact, if not for me, it would have been far worse; you would not be standing here now. True, being immortal you would inhabit another body in another land, but your wife and son are not so gifted. They would have perished. I saved the continent of Amandia from total annihilation, so the current situation is not so bad—in comparison.’

  ‘But your motive was entirely self-serving, Samuel,’ Leopold’s father asserted. ‘I am sure you were not considering anyone else at the time. You have little regard for anything beyond your own personal desires.’

  ‘I would do anything to save my son, as would you, Thann. Do not think we are so different.’

  ‘I would say that our acts have defined us as being very different, Samuel—and call me Edmond. I have grown accustomed to that name, as has my family, and I need no more reminders about who I once was. You and I are different, Samuel, despite what you may think. Your love for your son is just a distant memory. You are enacting what you think you should do, rather than what you feel. The Change has burned all emotion from your soul, while my feelings were never taken from me—and I thank my blessings every day for that. No, you are more similar to Rei and Poltamir than I, for all three of you continue to behave like devils. And common folk across the land curse your name more than the other two combined.’

  Samuel nodded gravely. ‘It is true; I have not made many friends with my methods. But I do not need to feel love to know it is there, buried deep within me, just as your servitude for Lin is lurking beneath your skin, ready for when he calls.’

  Leopold’s father smiled knowingly. ‘Well said; perhaps it is true. Even out here on this tiny rock I have heard tales of you, Samuel. Your reputation tells of a monster, and in meeting you, I can see why. Your magic has hardened your heart, and you are rife with evil. We servants of Lin would not dare commit such a sin, lest it pervert our souls. You flirt with extreme danger.’

  ‘I know that now, but the damage is done. It is too late to expel the evil spirits from my essence. An inkling of their dark presence has been within me since childhood and their power has grown alongside my own. I have forsaken any hope of freedom from their hold, and have summoned more of their kind to join them.’

  ‘More?’ Edmond said with disbelief. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘I have grown adept at containing them. And I use their strength when I must—in limited amounts. It has saved me many times already. I no longer have the
power I once did; it disappeared with the birth of my son. My houseguests offer me their dark flavour of magic, in hope to overcome me, and in turn I live to continue my quest. Thus far, this mutual understanding has benefitted us both, and they have not succeeded in winning me over—not yet.’

  ‘That can never happen, Samuel,’ Edmond stated worriedly.

  ‘That’s right. If my darkness succeeds in overcoming me I would become the same evil I seek to destroy. Each time I falter their hold on me increases. I nearly succumbed to them whilst fighting with Rei, but narrowly prevailed. I challenged her long ago when she first came to power in Cintar, but she was too strong for me. She has a cunning defence that I cannot counter with brute strength alone.’

  Edmond nodded. ‘Then I know now why you have come, Samuel. You need more power—untainted power. You absorbed the ring and I feel many other such relics within you, yet it is still not enough to defeat Rei. You need my strength for when you next face her—and presumably Poltamir would be next.’

  The magician waited silently for Leopold’s father to go on. He did not, and it was Samuel who was forced to speak up. ‘So what will you do?’

  Edmond’s eyes passed from the worried visage of his wife, to the unsure face of his son; he regarded the magician squarely. ‘I will help you, but you must make me a promise—a solemn oath.’

  Now it was the magician’s turn to draw out the silence. He did not nod or make any indication he understood or agreed. He waited for Edmond to divulge his demands.

  ‘The Ancient Ones must be purged from the world,’ Edmond insisted.

  ‘Of course. Your offer is one step towards that.’

  Edmond accepted the response levelly. ‘And one other; you must take Leopold with you.’ The youth jumped out of his seat to protest, but his father’s patient voice and placating gestures had him settling back into his seat. ‘You’re right, Samuel. Trouble will find these isles. Rei’s Order or the malevolent Truthseekers will eventually discover us. I have done my best to fend off her men and her beasts until now. Recently they have been coming this way in greater numbers. Leopold is my son, and that alone will attract them or others of their ilk. Rei’s thirst for revenge upon me is only second to what she feels for you, Samuel. She blames you for everything—for turning me against her, even though it was my choosing. You are right. I cannot stay here any longer, hoping for trouble to pass by. I will grant you the strength you need. I will help you and you will keep Leopold safe by your side, until either you find victory, or the world is ended.’