Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  “That was a Dro’mangus.

  “Many a brave knight has met their end facing its terrible speed and strength.

  “I feared you might be the next, Saedeus.”

  I scoffed. “You doubt me, Alric?”

  Alric snorted, or gave the knightly counterpart. “You do have a few key traits and abilities in your favor, Saedeus. I have never met an Empyrean Knight able to faint on command or capable of self-befoulment at a moment’s notice.

  “Those are skills certain to intimidate even the most dauntless foes.”

  “Do not mock the power of beguilement and deception, Alric!

  “I merely trick my opponents into believing I am a spineless cur in order to lure them into my trap!”

  “Whatever helps you faint at night, brave sir knight.”

  “Do not mock me, o’ disembodied voice of righteous dead past!

  “I am the brave future of your diminished order!”

  Alric’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Then we are as doomed as your quest to return Loer’allon.”

  Puffing up my chest, I countered only somewhat peevishly, “You doubt my abilities?”

  “Actually, no, Saedeus, I do not. I do, however, doubt your ability to return Loer’allon. Her choice is made; you have little say in the matter.

  “You cannot return what is not yours to give.”

  I snorted but did not argue.

  Why argue with Alric when I could not even win an argument with myself?

  “What should we do next, Alric?

  “What can I do to be better prepared?”

  Alric took several moments before replying. “Heed my lessons at night and internalize their value.

  “Listen to the voices of others who now share your consciousness. Learn how to gauge them, read them, and ascertain their worth.

  “Practice accessing those lives and pushing them away. Interacting with the souls you now carry will give you the tools necessary to protect yourself when you are forced to take more.

  “Learn from the minds within.

  “Do all this at every opportunity.

  “As you grow, apply what you learn creatively to continue your development.”

  Nothing to it!

  Just a few minor tasks to do on the long journey southward.

  The Road Ahead

  Leaving the village, I decided for the road.

  There was, I admit proudly, some actual logic behind the decision.

  I was at home in the wilds and could travel overland freely. I was not afraid of being alone nor was I concerned about finding sustenance should my stores run out in the wilds.

  Traveling along the road, at least for the time being, would give me at least the partial advantage of sight should I—I should say when I—encountered another demon on my journey. Although I expected that any demon worth its ectoplasm would lie in wait for would-be victims to pass by its carefully laid trap hidden near or along the roadway, I would at least have some space afforded by the road itself to react. I could also see anything approaching in the distance so long as it was not carefully warded by spells.

  I might also happen upon other merry bands of travelers seeking my wit and pleasant companionship.

  A man of my worldliness and charms would be quite in demand in these dark times.

  In the woods, fields, and hills, traps could be anywhere and I would be none the wiser. I would certainly be able to rely on my inner vision to help me avoid these pitfalls but there was no guarantee I would sense danger in time to respond.

  Also, going along the road was easier.

  At least for the time being.

  And, if I have not made this clear, I am lazy, or perhaps just wise beyond my years, and tend to choose the path of least, or more preferably no, resistance.

  Especially from myself.

  Things are so much easier that way.

  At least for me.

  So, with a saunter to my step and a cheerful rattle to my purse, I left Skaerholme behind along with all the fond memories of the town’s myriad charms.

  Three days out of Skaerholme, the road to the south slowly transitioned down from hills and woodlands to swamps and fens, wandering through miles of mosquito-infested plaguelands. The mires reminded me of the isolation of home—bogs full of wildlife and denizens as yet untouched by demonic stain.

  I only wished the disease-ridden pestilence of the region were able to keep the demons at bay.

  Or, better yet, that the demons were susceptible to the insect-purveyed blights of the bottomlands.

  Sadly, human frailty in this regard did not translate to the demonic.

  In places, the king’s road was an elevated berm overlooking wetlands filled with marsh and reeds, birds, sprites, fairies, and other fey creatures. Other times, it dipped low through swampy bottomlands filled with the trunks of towering, moss-draped trees and the booming calls of unseen, but vividly imagined—generally of the gigantic, many-toothed variety—wildlife.

  Swinging Loer’allon with all the respect she was due, that is, with the excitement and enthusiasm of a child envisioning unseen battles, adversaries, and triumphs, I spent much of the morning engaged in swordplay.

  Mostly play…but with a sword.

  With a decisive stroke of my lambent blade, I beheaded Arz’gatoth, Lord of the Fire Demons, to end the demonic infiltration of the Uërthly realm.

  A patch of long-stemmed reeds fell at my feet.

  My prowess was such that I could slay unsuspecting, defenseless plants with impunity.

  Sheathing Loer’allon, her duty fulfilled, I picked up one of the reeds and began pulling off its outer waxy layers while I plucked the uppermost tip and dropped it to the ground.

  Surprisingly, the stem was hollow.

  For a time, I tried blowing through the stalk, attempting to make some music to while away the day, but the whistles produced were rather weak and sad, a bit like myself, and I decided keeping the reed in my mouth like a piece of straw was more satisfying.

  These lands were truly wild.

  Untouched swamps transported from another place and time engulfed the light and distance, the pillared trunks of awesome cypresses rising from dark waters of unknown depths. Sunlight reflecting off the water’s smooth face gave no clues as to the mysteries that might lie beneath the water’s surface. Crystalline flora and fauna encoating the vertical strata added light and liveliness, the colors and tones of magical expression, to the landscape, heightening its otherworldliness.

  The amount of manpower and magic required to build a road through this miasma was of an order I had never before seen, far greater than the magical shieldings that helped protect the former outpost of Balde. If only all our humanly efforts were not spent trying to survive, to rid the world of demonic interlopers, then Uërth would be a place where dreams were made real.

  Instead, we had demonic hordes and lives lived furtively in the shadows.

  When a flock of wyverns flew overhead I was so startled that I dropped face-first to the ground of the road bed. Thankfully, I did not draw their attention or I might have ended up as reptile food.

  Or, more likely, the beasts recognized how intimidating I was and steered clear of the superior predator.

  That they had probably just feasted on something else had no bearing on their flight from my prowess.

  Snorting, I stood boldly and dusted myself off, tactfully spitting out the mouthful of dust, leaves, and twigs I had swallowed on my graceful descent to the road.

  I must be, I decided, quite the sight.

  “Run, Saedeus!

  “Dive into the water!”

  Not taking the time to question, I sprinted to the road’s elevated edge where it overlooked a particularly dark, almost black, expanse of water. Without pausing to think rationally, I maintained my forward momentum and dove head-first into the mire.

  Crack!

  Bright lights exploded behind my eyes as I hit something far too solidly with the top of my skull.

&nb
sp; Trying to orient myself, gasping for air, I erupted out of the water facing the knotty, irregular knee of a massive swamp cypress’s root.

  So much for looking before I leaped.

  “Get down!”

  I got down, my teeth clamping around the reed still in my mouth.

  “Stay under as long as you can. If you must come up, do so slowly and cautiously.

  “Do not draw attention to yourself.”

  Afraid to even ask why, I followed Alric’s advice.

  As my lungs began to burn, urging me to come up for air, my fears told me to stay down even more urgently.

  Reaching something of a compromise, I stuck the reed still clamped in my mouth up above the water’s surface, blew out the silty water in the plant’s hollow, and took a welcome breath.

  Slowly regathering my wits—recognizing that I could only use that term loosely in my case—I sought outward with my inner vision, keeping my eyes closed all the while as I tried to locate the source of Alric’s concern.

  To my dismay, and the further undermining of my sense of self-worth, I realized the wyverns had not fled my presence.

  The dragonkin had bolted from something far worse.

  A massive shape sullied the heavens, its vile presence spreading over the treetops in an abominable stain as it circled lazily above.

  The infernal was an eclipse of evil, a vast presence blocking the light above, the chill of winter manifest, roaring up from the deepest lifeless pits and the maw of insanity, threatening to consume any who peered too deeply within its mind-shattering heart.

  Without my eyes to see its physical manifestation, I only sensed the demon’s presence.

  And that was more than enough.

  Whatever it was, the demon was a thing of true power, essence-drinking Darkness radiating out from its many-limbed form in clouds of abnegation.

  Thankfully, it was not looking for me.

  I hoped.

  I was never so glad to stay put in a swamp, my anxieties of what might lay in wait to snatch me up in the murky waters far less than my fear of facing the monster flying overhead.

  “What is that, Alric?”

  Alric’s voice was a low growl. “That, Saedeus, is a Duaga, a demon lord.”

  That was something I never wanted to encounter again.

  “Can it not sense Loer’allon’s presence?

  “Why is it not coming for us?”

  “Loer’allon can mask her essence, as you will need to learn to do.”

  He paused, then added, “You are beneath the demon lord’s notice, Saedeus. For that, you should be thankful until the end of your days.”

  I was already thankful and the day had not ended yet.

  When the demon had been gone so long that I began to go numb from cold, when I had not sensed its soul-marring essence in many long minutes, I decided there was a small chance that I might be safe enough to risk getting out of the water.

  If only for a moment.

  I crawled up the bank shivering, unable to feel my extremities or properly control their movement.

  Covered in muck from my ordeal, my skin shriveled from exposure, I was about as mobile and attractive as a water-soaked log.

  “Unsheathe Loer’allon. Her Light will warm and refresh you.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Wiser than hypothermia, I would venture.”

  “And when did you learn sarcasm?”

  “After saving you for about the thirtieth time, I have learned what gets your attention.”

  “Dinner?”

  “No. An attitude.”

  I smiled as I drew Loer’allon.

  Alric knew me too well.

  Spells Uncast

  To say I am a horrible spell caster would be an understatement.

  To say I am an abysmal magician would be but a pale shadow of the truth.

  I am but the vaguest reflection of a blurred shadow far beneath the most abyssal levels of the lowliest magical talent.

  Which makes my rather uncanny (at least according to Alric) abilities as a Djen’toth all the more surprising.

  Thankfully, by harvesting the abilities of many people who had at least a modicum of sorcerous talent, I was beginning to learn far faster than I would have been able to otherwise and with far greater skill.

  I was cheating.

  Which came as no surprise.

  Through a lifetime of practice I had already discovered I was rather good at duplicity.

  Considering how unfair the world was, at least from my anthropocentric perspective, I actually had no ethical qualms about this state of affairs.

  I did what I must to survive, even if it involved cheating.

  Those of true talent may look down upon how slowly and begrudgingly magical Craft revealed itself to me, just as they may abhor the means by which even that reluctant progress slowly manifested, but I could not care less.

  All I cared about was doing what I needed to do to survive another day through whatever means necessary. Whether I learned magical skill via natural talent, diligent study, or inadvertently stealing the life force and knowledge of unsuspecting arcane practitioners was of little concern to me.

  Even so, I still struggled.

  I was, after all, trying to learn and use several talents at once.

  Taking in another’s essence was one thing, learning to read and understand what I could of the person whose essence I now shared was a greater challenge, but actually making use of that knowledge in a meaningful way presented far greater difficulty.

  So, even cheating was not exactly easy.

  Or successful.

  But I got much further along in my arcane training than I would have otherwise.

  Which is another way of saying at least I got somewhere instead of nowhere.

  Aside from the begrudging assistance of those souls that somehow now called me home, I also had one other advantage that many initial practitioners of magic lacked.

  I could see what I was doing.

  No matter how pitiful the manifestation or unlikely the result of my efforts, I could, on some level, see, feel, and engage with the energies I manipulated. Through my inner vision, however badly I failed, I could get an idea of what I was doing and actively work to change the results for the better.

  In my case, trying to make things better often made things worse, but in some ways I could still tell what was going on…in theory.

  Practically, I felt as lost as a motherless puppy.

  But at least I had something to build on.

  I hoped.

  So, it was often with no small degree of amusement that I watched the mysterious manifestations of my magical practice.

  While Alric might coach me on the many ways to manifest a small glowing orb suitable for use by someone lost inside a cave deep within the bowels of the earth, I would take pleasure in the billowing cloud of feathers that was the actual result.

  I was good at being bad.

  “Let’s try this again, Saedeus.

  “Stop trying so hard.”

  I did not remark on the irony of Alric’s encouragement.

  Even time itself could grow frustrated with my inability to budge.

  “Magical energies are all around you.

  “Magical energies are part of you.

  “Fundamentally, this essence is everything…all that is possible, all that can be possible.

  “Imagine the manifestation of the essence you wish to create as an image in your mind.

  “Do not try to shape it.

  “Do not try to mold it.

  “Do not try to force it.

  “Let it be.

  “Let the essence express itself.

  “Letting magic express itself is the true nature of spellcasting.

  “You are just an intermediary.

  “You do not make magic happen.

  “You let magic happen.

  “Get out of the way!”

  And there was the true crux of the matter.
/>   I never really was very good at getting out of the way.

  Getting in the way, well, that was another matter entirely.

  Which explained quite a lot about my lack of talent in many childhood games.

  But I digress.

  As usual.

  So, by my very nature, I was the antithesis of a true magician.

  At least I knew where I stood.

  Exactly opposite where I wanted to be.

  Thankfully, as impatient as I could be, Alric was more patient.

  He did not give up on me when I was ready to give up on myself.

  “You’ve told me you can see and feel the essence.

  “Visualize the essence in your mind.

  “Envision the light you wish to create.

  “See its golden-white glow. Feel the soft warmth of its touch.

  “Let it be in your mind and the world will follow!”

  I could almost see the sap weeping out from the surrounding trees.

  And they were not maples.

  Alric was laying it on.

  I sighed and regrouped.

  I was not being fair to Alric.

  This view of magic was what he believed and, in truth, his views had more merit than mine because he could do the very thing that I could not.

  I could try to channel his ability.

  But that would be cheating.

  And, yes, I recognized the irony of my self-contradiction.

  So I tried.

  I imagined the diffuse light of the essence all around in my mind. I felt its expansive lightness, its boundless depths and untold potentials. With my awareness grounded in the essence, the intrinsic energies swirling all around, I pictured a bright ball of light in the air before me, one that could rest gently in the palm of my outstretched hand, casting a sure glow off the tree trunks looming heavenward above.

  I did not believe the light was there.

  I did not force the light to be there.

  I did not manipulate the energy for the light to be there.

  I was the light in my mind while abiding in the essence.

  I felt something tickle the skin of my open palm.

  Was that warmth?

  Had I felt the movement of energy manifesting my vision?

  I opened my eyes excitedly.