Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  He had, after all, protected the Greensward from me.

  I just doubted my ability to survive long enough to get there.

  The Fire That Burns

  Lucius came close, uncomfortably close.

  In truth, I was uncomfortable for but a moment.

  Then he came so near that my eyes crossed trying to keep him in focus.

  On the plus side, I got a really good view of his rough surfaces, striations, and inclusions.

  One could make a lifelong study of his facets, in any number of subject areas from geology and paleontology to biology and evolution.

  Before my own study could really begin, he said, “Are you ready, Maeraeth?”

  I was not ready.

  This was the first time he had used my name.

  I think.

  How could I be ready, if he used my name?

  This must be really serious, to warrant discussion on a first-name basis.

  Learning to cast magic and not kill myself or others was serious!

  This was important!

  Why did my mind have to try to turn everything into a joke?

  To make light of challenging moments?

  I had to focus and stop this mental babbling!

  Maybe this mental disorganization was part of my problem.

  “Maeraeth, all I ask is that you follow the flame.”

  Follow the flame?

  Lucius floated upward until he lightly touched my forehead, or at least where I visualized my forehead to be in this form.

  His pebbled surface felt strangely cool and warm simultaneously.

  I could feel his inner fire, hidden like lava deep beneath the surface.

  The heat joining us began to build. The underlying layers of radiating coolness began to lose clarity, a reflection on the turbulent surface of splashing water.

  This heat became light: blinding, unimaginably and impossibly bright light.

  And it burned down the barriers between us.

  This light was not something apart from me. It was not there to do anything; it was just there.

  And it built.

  And built.

  I began to burn.

  I screamed.

  My voice evaporated into the flames, fueling them higher and higher, to ever-greater intensity.

  All that I was, all that I thought, evanesced.

  At first my thoughts, my fears, my reactions, then my entire identity disappeared in flames.

  My essence was its fuel.

  There was no fighting it.

  There was no me.

  There was light.

  Luistaer

  Master Nomba’s plan was simple.

  We would leave the region protected by his shielding and teleport far to the south, to the city of Luistaer.

  In centuries past, Luistaer had been the hub of intellectual and economic development in southern Maeron. Legends of her translucent spires, rumored to be as glorious as those of Heaven itself, were still being recounted to this day. Cultures far and wide came to the city to trade goods and ideas, to build fortunes, and share wisdom. Arts, Craft, and myriad traditions from across the world bore unique fruit within her welcoming walls.

  All the information I had uncovered in The Big Book of Knowledge confirmed these assertions.

  If anything, the rumors underplayed the city’s grandeur.

  Before we left the security of the Greensward, Master Nomba had spent months scouring the southern reaches of Maeron, those portions of the continent that were below Kerraboer, for spots that were the most likely to have held out against demonic invasion.

  If he could locate areas where people still lived, he could help shore up their defenses and keep the demons out permanently, as he had done in the Greensward.

  He performed sendings and far-scryings, sent out enchanted scouts, and communicated with fellow magicians to confirm his findings and assumptions.

  The results were grim.

  Of those spots he had found that appeared to still harbor some semblance of civilization, Luistaer was the most promising.

  He had been in touch with the several prominent magicians in the city. Their efforts, along with those of many who had come before them, had been largely successful at keeping the demons at bay. After finally coming to trust Master Nomba’s intent, the wizards welcomed his contributions to their defense and invited him to the city to strengthen its wards.

  Any effort to prevent depredations was welcome.

  So it was decided that we would first travel to Luistaer, aid in permanently securing the city’s borders, and then gather additional information on where to go next.

  If no likely spots were found based on information gleaned in Luistaer, we would follow up those leads he had already gathered that had showed at least some promise of being worthy of further inspection.

  Luistaer also had the benefit of being a city Master Nomba knew well. He could teleport us there with minimal risk because he knew the place and its environs and could recall them well.

  Master Nomba could not say the same for the other locations he had found. To reach these, we would have to travel much more mundanely and cautiously. Whether on foot, cloaked from demonic detection, or via short, localized, line-of-sight teleports, we would find our way as the land and situation allowed.

  Before we embarked on our journey to the southern city, however, Master Nomba and I performed one last sending, this time to contact one of Luistaer’s most prominent mages directly to let him know when exactly we would be leaving and where to expect our arrival.

  I stood with Master Nomba in his study. The walls and ceiling were completely transparent, letting in the light of the stars above. The shadows of clouds moved effortlessly across the floor beneath our feet.

  “Are you ready, Maeraeth?”

  I was but an observer. If I tried to help with Master Nomba’s spell, we would be as likely to contact another dimension as contact a single mage in the city of Luistaer.

  “I am ready, Master.”

  He smiled, his bright teeth gleaming on his dark face.

  “Let us begin.”

  Master Nomba’s long fingers caressed the air, describing intricate diagrams, equations, and permutations of force. His magic was very technical, a direct expression of higher metamathematics. He was literally writing out the formulae of his intent on the universal fundament.

  As his fingers moved, the room slowly lit up, sparks dancing on his adroit hands.

  A swirling mass of light blue energy began to fill the center of the room, a window to another place, one we could not cross into but that we could see and hear through.

  The city slowly revealed itself to Master Nomba’s scrying.

  I could not contain my disappointment.

  A barely audible sigh escaped my lips.

  Master Nomba’s eyebrows lifted. “Not what you expected?”

  No.

  Not at all.

  Master Nomba had not opened his connection directly to the other wizard. He was giving us a look at the city directly, as it was without any interference.

  To say that the city had been desecrated would be an understatement.

  Luistaer, once a glorious gem reflecting light onto the heavens, was sullied and broken, a gem crushed and partially returned to the ground. The city was battle-scarred and gritty, a shadow of its former self.

  Despite its fall, Luistaer was still alive.

  There were lights in the broken towers. The outer walls, though formerly shattered, had been repaired.

  People still lived there.

  Even if poorly and on the edge of despair.

  “It is hard for me to imagine people living in such a place, Master.”

  Master Nomba nodded gravely, his hands still at work, empowered by their purpose. “They have no other choice, Maeraeth.

  “The people of Luistaer may find living there as hard as you imagine.”

  Almost inaudibly, he added, “Or more so.”

  I tri
ed to brighten my mood and hide my dejection by feigning willful purpose. “And they need our help.”

  “Indeed they do.”

  Nonetheless, despondence was not my only concern. I was also discomfited.

  The place felt wrong.

  Lights were on, but no one was home.

  Where were the children playing?

  Where were the guards marching on the ramparts?

  Where were the tradesmen selling their wares and moving goods through the city?

  Where was anything approaching normal, no matter how broken or unrecognizable?

  “Master Nomba, must we visit this place?”

  “Why do you ask, Maeraeth?”

  I swallowed deeply, checking my fears. “Because it feels wrong.

  “This is not the pale shadow of a once great city. It is something else entirely. Don’t you think so?”

  “Yes, Maeraeth, I do. I think and feel so.”

  “But still you want to go?”

  Master Nomba gave a short nod. “Still I must go, in one form or another.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we must make certain that the city has truly fallen, that we cannot help.

  “We must ascertain what may be required in the future if others are to help.”

  “So, we are going as much to learn as to offer assistance?”

  “Luistaer is beyond our ability to help right now, Maeraeth. This I know.

  “But it may not be beyond our ability to help in the future.”

  That was logical.

  In a way.

  A way that put others’ lives and interests before ours, but that was ever Master Nomba’s way.

  “I understand.”

  And I did.

  I still did not want to go.

  But at least I would not be going in blind.

  “The Chaos Gate has fallen, Maeraeth. The Empyrean Knights are no longer chained to it or their keep. They will need to know where they must go, what places must be razed and what must be raised.

  “If we cannot save a place, at least we may be able to help it be saved.”

  Now it was my turn to nod.

  In agreement and amazement.

  The Chaos Gate was no more?

  How could this be?

  Aloud, I said, “And why must we talk with the wizard?”

  “To gauge the depth of his lies.”

  With a series of convoluted gestures from my master, the image of the outside of the city shifted quickly and transitioned to a large, darkened, smoke-filled chamber. Candles were guttering along the walls, their light given off reluctantly, refusing to add much illumination or luster to the space.

  The room appeared to be a lab of some sort. Scrolls were piled haphazardly in corners and on shelves. Alchemical supplies, including alembics, retorts, pelicans, cucurbits, and the like, were arrayed on a sprawling central benchtop with a viscous glowing fluid circulating through its apertures and vessels.

  In front of this apparatus, a tall, middle-aged man bent studiously, patiently surveying his work.

  “Ah! You are here, Nomba! I am glad to see you have returned!”

  The wizard turned to face the focal point of our attention.

  He could obviously see us as we could see him.

  “And your apprentice is with you!

  “All the better!

  “Everyone is welcome in Luistaer!”

  That was exactly what I had feared.

  Even with half a continent between us, I could feel the wrongness in the wizard.

  Watching him move was like listening to a band playing slightly off rhythm or a singer singing out of key. The general structure of the piece appeared correct, but it was still off.

  Why did Master Nomba even bother?

  The man was obviously mad.

  Or worse.

  Perhaps Master Nomba wanted confirmation of whether Luistaer was a city of madmen.

  Or a city of worse.

  I know which I thought.

  And this was without centuries of experience.

  This was without decades of experience.

  “And it is good to see you as well, Ul’Jheera.”

  The wizard’s eyes kindled with an inner light at the mention of his name, privy to some jest of which I had no part or knowledge.

  “Your arrival is timely, Nomba. We near completion of our latest refinement of demonbane elixir.

  “With its protection, our citizens may soon be able to venture beyond the walls of Luistaer much more safely and begin to retake some of what was stolen from us so long ago.”

  “That is excellent news, Ul’Jheera! We would be glad to offer our assistance when we arrive.”

  We would?

  “These are glad tidings indeed, Nomba. In fact, your assistance will be critical to its success.”

  More ominous words could not be spoken.

  Perhaps our bones boiled and reduced, the magical essence extracted, would complete the formulation.

  Maybe a dab of Master Nomba’s soul and a touch of my heart would complete the casting?

  Perchance the secrets of Master Nomba’s demon bane shield would be the necessary ingredient to pervert and overcome our defenses?

  I trusted Ul’Jheera like I trusted a hole in the ground.

  One without a bottom and lined with sharpened spikes.

  He was fine where he was, but I wanted to be nowhere near him.

  “When do you expect to arrive?” Ul’Jheera’s voice was oily with anticipation.

  I could just see him imagining how he was going to make use of us.

  “Within the week,” was Master Nomba’s polite reply.

  “Do you happen to know more precisely when you anticipate reaching us? We would like to have a reception suitable for you fully prepared.”

  I was sure they would.

  With an army of flesh dancers, dreaded al’zakara, ready to shed their skins and take ours?

  “Not yet. Our preparations are not yet finalized.”

  “A pity. We were so looking forward to giving you a celebration worthy of you.

  “You will let us know before you arrive?”

  “Most certainly.” Either Master Nomba was a far more skilled liar than I had known, or he sincerely believed Ul’Jheera’s story. “Do you require anything of us that may be of assistance when we arrive?”

  “No. Your presence is quite enough.”

  Wow.

  If Ul’Jheera dripped any more venom, he might run out, unable to poison the next victim.

  I wanted no more of this snake.

  “Until next we meet.” Master Nomba declined his head.

  “It is an honor we would not miss.” Ul’Jheera bowed in turn.

  With a deft flick of my master’s fingers, the darkened chamber disappeared and Ul’Jheera with it.

  His face now far more serious, Master Nomba turned to me and asked with complete candor, “What do you think?”

  What do I think?

  What don’t I think?

  “I think that sounds like the very definition of a trap.

  “If he were any more tainted, I would expect him to burst into a halo of black flames.

  “I think the last thing I would want to do would be to visit the fair city of Luistaer.

  “In fact, I think the last thing I would do would be to visit the unfair city of Luistaer.

  “At least with my soul as my own.”

  Master Nomba smiled. “I think you are right.”

  Phew!

  We agreed on that, at least!

  “I had to check, to corroborate my findings, and I wanted to give you the opportunity to make your own assessment.

  “You must be able to trust your judgment to survive outside the Greensward.

  “I must be able to trust your judgment.

  “I have no fears about your abilities, Maeraeth. You made me proud.”

  So this was a test?

  One I had passed?

  That, in and of i
tself, was a minor miracle!

  One worth celebrating!

  “So, we won’t be going?”

  “Not without an army behind us.”

  Master Nomba and I were in complete agreement.

  Cooling

  Lifetimes later, the light faded, its fuel spent.

  Worlds away, Lucius moved back, the space between us as wide as the gulf between stars and just as cold.

  Nonetheless, I bathed in an ocean of peace.

  It was this peace that quenched the flames.

  It was this peace that was me.

  In a valley of fallen souls, I had found myself.

  Unfortunately, I did not have long to make my acquaintance.

  “We must move.

  “More juel’dara come.”

  It is amazing how quickly inner peace can transition into inner fear.

  Except this time it did not.

  The fear arose.

  It was there, but it was just another layer atop the deep and abiding peace within.

  Fear did not control me, my mind or my thoughts; the fear was a bit of information to be used and responded to as needed.

  I did not need it.

  Fear was but a hindrance to effective response.

  So I ran.

  Without fear.

  Or, more accurately, I floated.

  Quickly.

  Informed by fear, but not constrained by it.

  Beneath us, the ground was a blur as we sped from the valley of the el’amin.

  I did not bounce or crash against any rocks along the way.

  And that, at least, was a marked improvement.

  And for that, I was proud.

  A Trip Deferred

  What a relief!

  I had no desire to go to a city infested by demons, one that used human hosts for unspeakable acts, their souls held captive to fuel demonic entities’ depraved existence.

  “Where will we go, Master?”

  Anywhere but Luistaer was a good answer.

  “There are two small hamlets I know of old, ones that have survived relatively intact until fairly recently.

  “I would see if they yet persist and if their inhabitants are whole.”

  Great!

  Hamlets tended to be filled with far fewer demons than cities.

  Mostly because they had less prey.