Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  Their breath, like the dragons themselves, was magic.

  And I wanted never to get in its way.

  Arcing gracefully above the mountain spires, the dragons banked into formation, the beat of their great wings holding them in position above the next valley and the horrors I could not yet see but felt emanating from its depths.

  The beat of the wind beneath their wings the clap of thunder, the incandescent flames of their breath the fires of Heaven itself, the dragons loosed fiery holocausts upon the adjoining valley.

  I could feel the demonic screams from afar, unbridled rage and anguish reverberating through my soul.

  Their attack unabating, the dragons circled above, raining fire and apocalyptic magics upon the demons below.

  The el’amin held their positions, watching this display with what I can only assume was awe and respect for a flight of dragons united in a single cause, focused on one purpose.

  Finally, as the wyrms flew past our ability to see them over the peaks above, Lucius signaled for us to advance.

  As much as I feared what lay ahead, I did not wish to miss the spectacle of the dragons’ majesty even in one of its most destructive incarnations.

  We sped up the mountainside as heat built before us like a coming storm.

  Cresting the rise, Lucius and the other elementals arrayed all around me, hovering above a view reminiscent of Uërth’s end.

  As far as I could see to the right, the valley was afire with cleansing draconic flames. The landscape, whatever its original form, had melted and given way beneath the terrible heat, the rough edges of the weathered stone pooling and flowing like molten toffee.

  To the left, where the dragons’ fires had not yet found purchase, the entirety of the valley was caked in some abominable encrustation, a demonic miasma coating all the outcroppings, crevices, and boulders without regard for surface type or texture.

  Looking at the infernal plague, I imagined an uncontrolled inimical fungus, a transformative otherdimensional agent that prepared the land for demonic occupation, siphoning away native life and resources.

  And this pall grew over the next ridgeline into the valley beyond.

  Into the heart of Noema’jin.

  In the far distance, the dragons worked in concert, pushing the contagion back, burning it to nothing.

  But even under fire, the blight was not going undefended.

  Great tendrils of living ichor, larger than the tallest of trees, shot skyward in immobilizing filaments.

  Where the dragons did not avoid these explosive fibrils, the great wyrms were pulled to the ground screaming, unable to fly and incapacitated, no longer able to counter with magics, their fires extinguished by the oozing terror at the valley bottom.

  Though but a few dragons went down, their loss was terrible nonetheless.

  I looked to Lucius. “We cannot cross that. Not yet.”

  Even from the mountain heights, the appalling intensity of the dragons’ fires was nearly unbearable, imbuing the valley with a heat that melted stone, elementals included.

  “What do you propose we do?”

  I had never tried flying high in elemental form, assuming that elementals must stay relatively close to the ground. This was not, however, the time to test the limits of elemental flight. I did not want to crash to the molten earth and die in a swathe of unbanked arcane flames.

  “I could try to create a path for us to cross on, one perhaps fueled by the magical energies of the dragons’ fires.”

  With so much magical energy readily available thanks to the dragons’ fires, even I could not help but be able to create magics with awesome effects.

  Or so I hoped.

  And assuming my spell was actually available.

  Theory and practice being what they are, the two are often quite different.

  There was a reason most wizards worked with those energies normally at their disposal, for these were the energies they could control.

  What I was proposing was actually quite dangerous.

  Except I seldom controlled magic on any scale.

  So, for me, this attempt was not entirely out of the norm.

  Or so I hoped.

  “I will trust your judgment in this, Noema’lun.”

  I wished I could trust my judgment.

  “Noema’jin is close. I know you will help get us there.”

  I bobbed up and down instead, approximating a nod.

  My butterflies danced with me, their movements a bit more varied and chaotic than my own.

  I wished I could return Lucius’s faith in kind.

  What I would have liked to do was launch us across the valley and settle gently on the far side. Short, sweet, and simple. But we did not know what lay across the valley over the ridge.

  There could be more of the demonic terraforming sludge, and worse.

  There would certainly be worse.

  So, instead of turning us into a cloud of shot fired across the valley from a magical catapult according to my original desire, I imagined us crossing a cool, cleansed, verdant path over steppingstones through the valley to the other side.

  This vision was ambitious and likely far out of my league.

  In fact, I anticipated creating a small garden patch in front of me as I began my spell.

  However, I knew that sometimes dreams must be big for them to begin.

  With a wish and a prayer, I cast my intent outward, the ember intended to light the fires of the magics embodied in the dragons’ raging flames.

  I was blown backward across the preceding valley when the spell took effect.

  Unwilling to travel the embarrassing distance with me, my butterflies floated in place to placidly watch the materialization of my failure.

  The Lost Valley

  We left the Greensward without fanfare or attention, getting up before the sun and leaving with its arrival.

  Master Nomba had spoken with Meyrna and the others in my absence while I worked in my burgeoning tent city, leaving his plans in order.

  I said my goodbyes the morning after we sighted the lost village.

  There was little to do but be about our business.

  I had not unpacked my gear after the last trip, in part because there was so little to unpack and partly because I knew we would be leaving shortly.

  My heart was heavy as we left, each step weighing me down.

  I was not looking forward to this excursion.

  I felt like I had earned the trip home. Now we were leaving before we had even settled in again.

  I tried my best to let the valley’s beauty lift my spirit, but sometimes it is better to feel and let your feelings be felt, to let your emotions run free and carve their way through your spirit, creating new paths and opportunities.

  So I moped.

  And my gloom ran its course.

  I cannot say that I felt better about leaving in the end, but I did manage to appreciate my last looks at the Greensward, the valley’s grandeur brighter than my mood could ever hope to be.

  Finally crossing through the boundary surrounding the valley, I imagined feeling the barrier’s energy currents surging around me, the shield’s protection empowered as much by the innate magic of the valley as by the people within. In truth, had I not been aware of where the boundary was, I would not have known that I was crossing through it by sensation alone.

  The boundary’s presence, however, was obvious visually. On one side, the land was lush and green. On the other, the land gradually faded to dull brown as vegetation slowly grew stunted and disappeared.

  The shield itself was a bit like a rainbow, visible only under certain conditions.

  Master Nomba addressed me simply, his voice full of support but demanding attention. “When we arrive on the other side, I am going to rely on you to cast our wards to protect us against demons.

  “Are you ready?”

  I gave a slow nod, hoping that such protection would not be necessary, that any mistake on my part would not cost us
our lives.

  Master Nomba gave me a pat of encouragement on the shoulder, then began the spell that would transport us across the Dragon’s Teeth to the chimerical village.

  Before I could voice any objections, the Greensward, and all my feelings for it, were left behind as I prepared for what was to come.

  As soon as my eyes focused, reorienting themselves to the different tint and timber of light in the new place, I began casting our protective ward.

  My time in and around the tent had been well spent, for the spell worked flawlessly, enclosing us in a complex web of demonic repudiation.

  “Ha!” I let out an exclamation celebrating my success as Master Nomba watched my incantation’s realization with approval.

  “Well done, Maeraeth!

  “I will be counting on you to help ward the valley as well.”

  I bowed my head in acknowledgement.

  What could possibly go wrong with that?

  Before us, or rather beneath us, the denuded valley of Master Nomba’s scrying spread toward the horizon. We were still in the Dragon’s Teeth, but far from home nonetheless.

  To ward a valley as vast as the one we now looked down upon would take years if we tried to cover its entirety. Master Nomba’s work in the Greensward had been the effort of generations. First, he had protected the townships, and then gradually extended the protection outward from those focal points. After many years of research and diligent effort, he had managed to discover how to make the spells self-reinforcing and perpetuating. With this discovery, he was able to extend the reach of his spells dramatically, for he did not have to spend all his time and energies maintaining what he had already created.

  Our efforts in this valley would progress far more swiftly than they had in the Greensward, but they would still take significant time.

  Wavering at the valley bottom, its crystalline walls clearer than the sky above, the lost village shimmered, heat haze dancing in the desert.

  “Let us see what there is to see, Maeraeth!”

  My impatience, and my fear, got the better of me, “Surely we are not going down there right now, Master?”

  Master Nomba laughed. “Of course not! We will investigate from afar before setting foot below.”

  I tried to keep the relief from my face.

  Master Nomba saw right through my shallow ruse. “We are safe here, Maeraeth. If danger arises, we will merely teleport home.”

  That, at least, had the makings of a plan.

  I nodded as my fears slowly lessened.

  With a few complex gestures and a brief incantation, Master Nomba created a lens that let us view anything we wished, near or far, within the valley. I could count the grains of sand on the dry river bottom or even view the sands’ interior crystal habit if we so chose.

  I was not, however, the one choosing.

  The village was our focus, and it was there that Master Nomba directed his attention.

  The air truly did warp and waver around the village.

  We could, in fact, resolve its details more clearly from afar than near. The closer we looked, the more distorted the interior became.

  “Master, what does this tell us? Is the village truly here at all? Is it on the other side of a rift? Is it a vision of another place or time?”

  Master Nomba did not answer.

  Instead, he began casting a series of complex divination spells that described the questions he wished answered to the very fundament of Creation.

  I was unable to interpret the answers he received.

  After some time, long moments I spent squinting at the village trying discern its true nature and whether or not its inhabitants might offer a good lunch, for I was starving, Master Nomba finally directed his attention at me.

  “There is no rift to another place or plane here, Maeraeth. If there were, demons would be gathered here, passing through, wreaking havoc upon the other dimension.

  “Neither is this a projection of what was. Though similar to some places of Uërth’s past, this village was not part of it.

  “Nor is this a vision of Uërth’s future. The lines of possibility diverge too far.

  “This is a place of power, Maeraeth, one where strange events can transpire seemingly of their own accord.

  “That is what you see before us.

  “There is, in fact, no village. At least not here.

  “As best as I can determine, this is but a window onto another world, one that is not open but that we can see through even so.”

  “Shall we stay then, Master, or return home?”

  Master Nomba took some time considering. When he answered, his words were not the ones I had wished to hear. “I think we should stay. This is a place that should be warded from demons. It is a wellspring of energy from Uërth herself. Though the valley has been drained and weakened, this font is not yet closed or dried up.

  “Who knows what may spring from its depths if it is protected?

  “We can help create an oasis here for Uërth’s future.”

  I nodded as my stomach growled. I imagined the villagers viewed across the valley eating far better and more frequently than I.

  Unexpected Is as Unexpected Does

  Though I did not see my spell take effect, I could see the el’amin bobbing energetically as I arched backward through the air as effectively as any load launched mightily from a trebuchet.

  When I finally hit the ground, leaving a trail of earth longer than the string of curses I uttered as I imagined my failure firsthand, I was knocked senseless. Then I only knew darkness and the serenity of emptiness.

  “Come, Noema’lun! Come!”

  Why would Lucius not let me rest?

  What was the hurry?

  I was nice and settled in the dirt where I lay.

  His voice, however, carried a timbre of excitement I seldom heard.

  That, if anything, sparked my curiosity enough to see what had created such a fuss.

  “I’m coming.”

  My voice was weaker than I had expected.

  Had I been resting?

  I was not so sure.

  I felt exhausted.

  “You must see!”

  I was not so sure.

  I would rather see my eyes closed and me back asleep.

  But Lucius gave me no alternative, so I skidded up.

  I could not gather the energy necessary to really float.

  I was rather unsteady, wobbling up and down like old times.

  “Okay. Let’s go!”

  This had better be good.

  Apparently I needed more rest, because what respites I had received were not doing their job.

  Lucius guided me up toward the mountaintop.

  Mostly because I could not do it myself.

  I was confused.

  Each a different size and shape, the el’amin were all sitting still on the ground. They had planted themselves in place as surely as if this were to be their final resting spot. Next to them, coiled upon themselves like tightly wound springs, a mixture of deeply untroubled relaxed repose and unbridled energy ready to burst into action, the surviving dragons lay at glorious rest.

  Had we lost?

  Had they given up?

  Were they just waiting for the end to come?

  “You must hurry, Noema’lun.”

  Could Lucius not see that I was bobbing to the best of my ability?

  After far more struggle than I remembered from our first ascent, and some more steadying guidance from Lucius, I finally reached the peak for a second time.

  The view now was entirely different.

  The blight was entirely gone.

  The unholy blemish that had been smeared across the landscape, the demonic mass that had been consuming the entirety of the valley, its environs, and any living things unable to get out of its way, was gone.

  As clearly as a dream interrupted.

  I looked out upon a lush green vale.

  The land was not completely restored; far from it
. No birds or fey creatures sang. No trees reached for the heavens. No insects hummed. No animals moved through the greenery. El’amin were not perched in secluded nooks and crannies.

  But they would.

  The sense of the place was back—calm, clear, and enlivened.

  The earth was not entirely bare. Sprouts of assorted plants, mosses, fungi, and trees were reappearing.

  How, exactly, I had no idea.

  Almost as if by magic.

  Was this my dream?

  Had I made this path?

  I smiled.

  Or gave the elemental equivalent.

  Which was more like an energetic skitter.

  I supposed the path I had created was a bit wider than I had intended.

  And draconic magic was slightly more potent than I had imagined.

  All in all, I would take the result.

  Feigning indifference, I asked, “Why are you not walking across?”

  I looked around. “You wanted a way forward?

  “I gave you a path.

  “Let’s use it.”

  Lucius spoke for the group. “Noema’lun, we wished to appreciate the feat you accomplished here before we disturbed its serenity.”

  Holding myself aloof, pretending, had taken the last of my energy.

  I fell to the ground.

  I could sense the approach of darkness closing in on the periphery of my vision.

  Cleansing a valley of demonic infestation can take a lot out of a rock.

  Before I could succumb to exhaustion, a great fanged muzzle bent over me, one with a maw so large it could swallow me without the need to chew.

  If I had to guess—and it was a guess, because I could not focus as I sank into the well of enervation—I would say that it was Skauorea, she of the refulgent golden scales, leader of the dragon flight, that leaned over me.

  “Be renewed, Noema’lun.”

  Ever so gently, the great wyrm kissed me.

  A dragon kissed me!

  That, in and of itself, almost woke me up.

  The jolt of power that flooded through me, a supercharged conduit to untold power, played a part as well.

  I was refreshed. A bit overwhelmed, but refreshed.

  I would need to add a section on the rejuvenating power of dragon kisses to The Big Book of Knowledge.