Legend's Awakening

by Jensine Odom

  “Baldure?” I step closer to the big guy, gently touching his arm for support. Amarya notices, and I swear a hint of jealousy flashes in her golden eyes, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure.

  “Drustana told us she killed you,” Baldure manages, hope making him reach out for her.

  “Drustana lied. I fled with the Dragon’s Bane. You of all people should know I can’t be found when I don’t want to be,” Amarya answers emotionless, stepping away from his touch.

  Utter sadness wins out as Baldure’s heart breaks, his pain tearing through me. I can only imagine the somewhat murderous look I turn on Amarya.

  “Baldure and I were soulbound,” she explains hastily. “After learning of the Honorless ways, and the amount of Espers they had among them with no problems, I thought to return to our clan; to explain to Mother and Father how wrong they were about both Honorless and Espers. Their only answer was to exile me under penalty of death.

  “At their rejection, rage consumed me. Baldure couldn’t follow me down that dark path. I broke our soulbond and left to create my own clan, comprised of others like me. We would confront the High Royal and change things; whether that be with knowledge or war, I cared not.” She gives Baldure an apologetic look, and her voice softens.

  “Then Allowyn was born. I saw her the day she was left with Sylaena’s clan. This broke my rage. I was unsure of how, but I swore to spare her from their lies.

  “Drustana came to me then, offering a solution; unite the Honorless and prove the Royals wrong. It worked with what I was already attempting to do, so I naturally agreed, but when I learned of her real plan to kill the Royals and turn on the mortals, I took the Dragon’s Bane and fled, making sure it was far from her reach.”

  “You forced her hand,” Caedryn realizes. “She made a pact with the mortals after that to have the Royals killed once they went dormant.”

  “She had mortals kill the Royals?” Amarya asks, surprised. “Why would she do that? She despises mortals.”

  “Drustana claims the humans killed the Royals of their own accord,” Rogarr speaks up. “We were to begin moving on them soon. She claims if we let the humans grow more powerful, they will kill us all. She has vowed the humans will worship us or burn.”

  “That sounds more like Drustana,” I agree. “She probably doesn’t know there are witnesses to her conspiring with the humans.”

  “That is why I agreed to unite with you,” Rogarr admits. “My soulbound was killed by dragon hunters. Baldure revealed it to be Drustana behind them, not the neighboring Honorbound clan.”

  “Yeah, she did a lot of behind the scenes killing,” I remark. “What I don’t get is why she still went dormant after killing anyone who stood in her way.”

  “Magic was disappearing from the world,” Sylaena explains. “We are magical beings. Had we not gone dormant, we would have eventually lost our ability to shift.”

  “So, in other words, Drustana wouldn’t be a god anymore,” I quip, getting a short chuckle from Turhion and confusion from Sylaena.

  “Now that you have arrived, are we ready to move on the next clan?” Baldure asks, bringing us back to our mission.

  “One more thing. What was that weird feeling of horror I got from one of you? I thought someone died.”

  “Oh, that,” Tristin says. “It was me. Some guy tried to sneak up behind us while Baldure spoke with Rogarr. I grabbed him and he turned to ash.”

  “He is a Purificent, as you are, Xerxia.” Sylaena’s brows knit together. “He did not possess this ability before. You must have infused that ability into their weapons when you used it to change them.”

  “I don’t care how it happened! This means all of the Vanguard can release the Knights, too!” I glance around, looking for my other brother. “Zebulon, I need you to be a dragon. I can’t—”

  “Okay,” Zebulon agrees.

  I wasn’t expecting that. “Umm. Alright. Not now, though. Alarr can change you later, after we turn the next clan. On that note, let’s get going!”

  ✽✽✽

  Something’s wrong. We’re almost to the camp and I haven’t sensed any dragons yet. By now we should be able to hear them, but there’s only deafening silence. I’m actually trying to listen harder, if that’s even possible.

  Cautiously, we approach the clearing, and find what I was afraid of. The camp has been abandoned, and hastily at that. Plumes of smoke fill the air from half banked fires, and tents still stand at one end. Lots of tents. Jethran did say Bodrick’s clan was large.

  “Baldure, can you get a read on what happened here?” I ask, not sure how his Seer ability works.

  “I can,” he replies, glancing at his sister.

  “Use Xerxia this time,” Alivia suggests. “She’s stronger than I am.”

  Without having to be told, I know what Baldure needs. As he takes a knee, laying one large palm against the heavily trodden earth, I tie our minds together, our souls merging. With a breath almost like a sigh, he closes his eyes, and I can feel the tug in my well of power as he reads the memories in the dirt.

  Like a fly on the wall, we watch everything that occurred here.

  A fairly broad man in neat leathers—I’m assuming that’s Bodrick— stands at one side of the camp. He’s watching his clan when a young man comes racing into the clearing, the fear of death on his face.

  He relays that I’m alive, and my forces have taken the other clans, describing what happened to the man Tristin dusted. He believes this is what I’m doing to the Honorless, and warns that Bodrick’s clan is next. Bodrick orders a full retreat, and in moments his clan is gone.

  Baldure lets the memory fade, then gently leaves my mind, letting me get my bearings again. Lending my power is more taxing than I thought it would be. I don’t know how Baldure did it for so long, or how Caedryn and Zaara made it look so easy.

  Loud, angry voices hit me as I become aware of my surroundings. Opening my eyes, I find a ring of people standing around a handful of others who are fighting. This isn’t friendly sparring. This is a brawl. A few more people enter the ring, trying to break things up, but end up joining the fray as wild punches are thrown.

  I recognize some as being from Hadrian’s clan, but the rest I don’t know yet. They must be Rogarr’s. Answering this question, both Hadrian and Rogarr enter the ring now, trying in vain to end the frenzy.

  The anger seething from the fight, coupled with the strain from helping Baldure, pushes me over the edge. The air becomes heavy as I half shift, flying high then dropping into the center of the ring.

  “Enough!” Lightning crackles in the clouds that have magically formed as I roar.

  The combatants all stop what they’re doing and straighten up, forming a line before me, fear apparent in their eyes as the storm continues to build. To be honest, I’m a little scared, too. I can feel the storm in my heart, and know I created it.

  “What’s going on here?” I ask, using my best drill sergeant voice.

  “He started it,” one of Hadrian’s men yells, pointing to another from Rogarr’s clan.

  “His clan started it,” the accused yells back.

  “My clan?! Your clan attacked ours!”

  Great, a clan rivalry. I knew it was bound to happen, but couldn’t they have at least waited until after we defeat Drustana?

  “Do any of you remember why you’re rivals?” I glare between all the culprits.

  Hadrian shrugs, just as bewildered as the others, but Rogarr crosses his arms, looking away. I fight the urge to punch him in his hooked nose, drawing myself up to look more intimidating as the sky crackles again.

  “They rival over me,” Brigid confesses, stepping into the ring. “Rogarr’s father wished for me to become Rogarr’s soulbound, making his clan stronger. When he learned I chose Calder, he raided my clan, killing my father before moving on to Calder’s clan, where he met his end on my sword.”

  “And where did this get your father, Rogarr? Besides dead?” I ask, using the tone one uses
when pointing out the obvious.

  Rogarr’s head snaps back to me, his arms falling at his sides and his fists balling. I almost want him to hit me. He snarls, then sadness crosses his face; his fists unclench and he hangs his head in defeat.

  “Why hold on to something so destructive?” I reason, losing some of my anger and returning to my human form. “Let the past go. You will be happier for it, trust me.”

  “What would you know of letting go?” Rogarr doubts me.

  “Baldure’s father killed my father, thinking he killed his soulbound, and my mother killed his father. Baldure came after me for revenge, but I refused to participate in the cycle of hatred. Now look at him; my Champion, a Vanguard, and my friend.” I give Baldure a small smile. “At some point someone has to say enough. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

  “I know how hard change can be, but look around. We’re all the same. We laugh, we love, we fight, we live. All I’m asking of you is to try. From here on out, we’re starting over; all of us, no longer divided, but united.”

  “I will try, this I promise,” Rogarr pledges, a certain understanding in his eyes.

  The energy of the crowd shifts and the tension seeps away as my words sink in. The ring disperses. Those that were fighting apologize, and a moment later I’m left standing alone, energy buzzing through me.

  “Is it just me, or did you just summon a thunderstorm?” Zebulon asks as he and the rest of the Vanguard join me.

  “I think I just summoned a thunderstorm,” I agree, glancing at the storm clouds overhead. “I don’t know how, though.”

  “It was the Thunderbirds,” Caedryn answers, petting my chrome hair. “They imparted their magic in you.”

  “It’s as good a theory as any,” I agree, pulling him close. “Zebulon, are you ready to become a dragon?”

  “Let’s do it,” Zebulon agrees emphatically.

  Alarr, who’s always standing near, walks with him a few paces away. When Zebulon nods, Alarr places his nose in the center of his chest. Red smoke engulfs him, and Alarr moves as it grows steadily larger. The air clears for an instant, showing a hot rod red and gold dragon before concealing Zebulon again. The energy shrinks, and my brother stands there once more, the only visible change being his eyes, shining gold in the dull light filtering through the clouds.

  “He needs a crash course in how to be a dragon.” I look to the Vanguard.

  “I got this,” Tristin offers enthusiastically.

  “Alright—”

  Before I can finish what I was saying, both my brothers shift, with Tristin taking off only seconds before Zebulon. Zooming low over the trees, they fly away from camp, back where Drustana won’t be able to see them. At least there’s that.

  “Chieftains, to me,” I call out. “Let’s see if we can’t salvage this.”

  Amarya and Rogarr aren’t that far away, and Destaya’s the next closest. Out of habit, Calder and Brigid start to walk over, but stop halfway, nodding to Hadrian and Kalos.

  “You two can join us, too.” I wave to Calder and Brigid. “The more minds we have on this the better.” Organizing the Vanguard with a thought, I make sure to keep the people who dislike each other separate. “Alright, how many dragons are we looking at facing?”

  “With the corrupted Knights and Bodrick’s clan, Drustana outnumbers us,” Calder reports bleakly.

  “There are also the remaining Paladins,” Destaya points out.

  “Paladins?” I ask.

  “The warriors she took from other clans to be her personal guards,” Alivia explains. “Much like your Knights.”

  “And how many of them are there?”

  “There should only be five Paladins left,” Mara answers.

  “Make that three Paladins,” Mary’s voice chimes somewhere behind me.

  Before I know what’s happening, I’ve drawn my daggers and turned on her, my reaction triggering the same in the others; Caedryn and Turhion stepping to shield me. Mary’s eyes go wide and she drops to her knees, hands in the air.

  “What are you doing here?!” I ask harshly, a bunch of emotions jumbling up inside me, not all of them mine.

  “Umm, surrendering. What does it look like I’m doing?” Mary quips, a sarcastic glint in her aqua eyes and a smile tugging at her lips; that sounds like the Mary I know.

  The truth of her intentions finds its way through the mess in my heart, and I sheath my weapons, all the Chieftains following my lead. Only the Vanguard keep their weapons trained on her.

  “Why?” Caedryn asks, suspicious.

  Mary looks him straight in the eye. “I’m not who I was before.”

  Something shifts in Caedryn’s emotions, but he fights it for a moment. I gently touch his shoulder, moving him back, doing the same to Turhion. They both lower their weapons and I walk by. Mary’s head and arms drop, and I lay a hand on her shoulder.

  “I understand. Probably more than anyone ever could,” I tell her, happy she didn’t turn to dust, and with her truth proven, Caedryn and Turhion sheath their weapons.

  Mary stands, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. “What happened to your hair?” she asks, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You. You happened to my hair,” I tease, but it doesn’t help.

  “I’m so sorry, Xerxia!” She falls against me, sobbing. “My memories were confusing, and Drustana was in my head!”

  “I know.” I hug her tight, happy to have Mary back. “It’s alright.”

  Mary straightens up again, looking to Caedryn and the other Knights. “I know it doesn’t change what I’ve done, but I’m sorry to all of you, too.” Tension lessens in the air around me as the Knights and Vanguard accept her apology. Mary slings a pack off her shoulder, handing an all too familiar black quiver to me. “Here, I stole these before I left Drustana’s camp.”

  “Apparently Drustana didn’t trust you completely, either, Amarya.” I flip the top up, revealing ten Dragon’s Bane arrows, then turn them to ash, hoping it’s the last.

  “It would appear so,” Amarya agrees, not surprised.

  “Drustana was planning on using them to kill your Knights. When Bodrick appeared, telling Drustana you’re alive and coming for her, two of the Paladins suggested surrendering, as the others had. She killed them right then and there, with no warning. Just stabbed them. Bodrick didn’t look too happy about it.”

  “Let’s hope that works in our favor.” I smile at Mary.

  A pair of wings beat the air as my brothers land and a chill runs down my spine as their combined emotions hit me. Zebulon’s stunned, but Tristin’s livid.

  “Now you die,” Tristin rages, the metallic sound of Nacht-Brekker rending the air as he draws it and splits it in two.

  I barely get my own weapons drawn in time to deflect the blow meant for Mary, kicking Tristin in the gut to make sure he stumbles far enough away to let me prepare for the next attack.

  “Tristin, just stop for a second!” I really hope I didn’t trigger his blind rage.

  Drawing her knives, Amarya steps beside me for support, and surprisingly so does Caedryn and Turhion.

  Tristin growls, nostrils flared and eyes cold as stone as he glares at Mary. “Why shouldn’t she die?! She almost killed you!”

  “Almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and atomic bombs,” I retort. “She surrendered! I touched her and she didn’t turn to dust! Save your rage for the real threat!” I pull a long breath in through my nose, calming my racing pulse some and radiating a peaceful energy. “Sheath your weapons. Please.”

  It takes a moment for all this information to sink into Tristin’s thick skull. When it does, he gives a stiff nod, returning Nacht-Brekker to one piece before strapping it across his back once more and stomping off.

  With tensions easing out of the situation, Kerric finds it safe enough to approach Mary. He gently touches her face, searching her aqua eyes. With a smile, Mary embraces him. This snaps Zebulon out of his shock, but unfortunately puts him in a bad mood.
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  With a murderous glare, he storms off. Making matters worse, Mary goes after him, followed quickly by Kerric. If it’s not one thing, it’s another! With a huff, I chase the trio. This can, and will, quickly turn violent.

  Sure enough, by the time they’ve stopped and I’ve caught up with them, they’re all yelling.

  “I loved you,” Zebulon roars, tears threatening to fall and fists ready to pummel someone to a bloody mess. “I love you,” comes out quieter, and the tears begin to fall. That means the violence isn’t far behind.

  “I loved you, too, and still do, but not the same way. Things have changed,” Mary counters, on the verge of tears herself. “Kerric’s soul calls to mine. I can’t ignore it. I’m sorry.”

  “We’re together, though,” Zebulon excuses lamely, grasping at straws.

  “She’s not yours anymore,” Kerric speaks up. That was a bad move.

  “She’s not yours, either,” Zebulon snarls, turning the violence I know all too well accompanies this kind of heavy emotion on Kerric.

  “That’s enough!” I step between them. “Zebulon, I know it’s hard to understand, but Mary’s soul is pulling her in a different direction. It’s not that she just doesn’t feel the same way about you; she can’t. It’s weird, and hard to explain.”

  Zebulon roars in anger, punching a tree as he marches off into the forest, and the clouds begin to release their burden. Caedryn stops beside me for a moment, giving me a knowing look, then walks after my brother. If there’s anyone who can help Zebulon with this, it’s him.

  That’s the Finale, Kid

  EVERYONE stands huddled in small groups around the camp as the rain drizzles on us. The fires have long since gone out, and I stare blankly into the smoke billowing from the one still struggling to live. Volpe lays at my feet, covering as much of his body as he can with his wings like an upright bat.

  No one’s sure about Drustana’s next move, and I’m not so sure about ours any more. It sounded so easy. Too easy, now that I think about it. Something was bound to trip us up. Let’s hope the all-too-soon battle with Drustana for the fate of the world goes better.