Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  This was a topic worth further study. One that I could see getting many would-be-heroes killed.

  I bowed.

  Which, like many of my gestures in elemental form, looked like a drunken weave or uncontrolled bounce.

  It is the intent that counts.

  “Many thanks, Skauorea. I am not sure I could have continued without you.”

  In fact, I knew I could not.

  “And we could not have continued without you, our miniature miracle worker.” The words washed through my mind like a refreshing summer day, light and full of promise.

  I might get to have that conversation with the dragons after all.

  And a dragon had called me a miracle worker!

  Master Nomba would be proud.

  And clapping.

  Or urging me to.

  “I’m here to help.”

  “Let us be off.” Skauorea lowered her massive head once more and squatted on her haunches, leaving me room to float up between her sweeping iridescent wings. “Would you like a ride?”

  It was never wise to say no to a dragon.

  Surprises Come in Big Packages

  Luecaeus was stunned.

  He had seen many miracles since his birth in the fires of Creation.

  This was not one of them.

  Noema’lun’s accomplishment was unbelievable.

  Never had he seen such a potent effect from a mortal spellcaster expressed over so short a period of time and on such a scale.

  This was a masterful improvisation of Art of the highest caliber.

  Mua’di cast on such a scope so quickly generally had one of two outcomes. Either the caster was torn apart by magics outside his ability to control, or the powers being manipulated were so far beyond the magician’s abilities that they lost cohesion and effect, fizzling to nothing, leaving the primal state undisturbed.

  Neither of these outcomes had been instantiated.

  The inchoate chaos of Noema’lun’s longruen, the baffling nature of his dyunda, coupled with his indefinable creative vision, had generated something entirely new on Uërth, restoring a semblance of what had been to a place that was no more.

  This wera’dun amazed even him.

  Luecaeus believed the wera’dun had amazed himself as well.

  And that was a wonder worth watching.

  Partial Protection

  There was significant magical flux in the valley. Master Nomba was concerned that the concentrations of turbulent power near the village would disrupt our attempts at establishing a stable arcane superstructure in the vicinity.

  While Master Nomba spent the day working through metamagical calculations and assessments, trying to determine the optimal positioning and structure of the core shield, I worked on establishing the foundations for an outer periphery, one far enough out to remain uninfluenced by the challenges associated with the inner shield.

  Having more than one shield in place, Master Nomba had assured me, would ensure greater viability to the structures’ higher metamagical resonance structures. The larger shield could not be built without a smaller one first; the more supporting arrangements, the better, at least with the amount of energy we could manipulate.

  So, ours was a job in several parts.

  Assuming Master Nomba could find an ideal position for the inner shield.

  If we could not ward the village, protecting the space against the unlikely possibility that the region actually became a portal demons could travel through, then we would establish other inner shielding structures suitable to build on for the overarching framework.

  Using the valley’s innate magic was ideal, if we could manage.

  I felt quite alone wandering above the valley’s rim, channeling energy all the while. Our work was a bit like creating a complex tile tessellation, except that not only did we have to decide on the appropriate design and then create it, we had to create the tiles themselves and make them embody the higher principles needed in their creation. Since this undertaking was so much larger and more complex than the last with the village in the sky, considerably more time and effort would be involved as well.

  That was the funny thing about being a wizard.

  We could accomplish miracles.

  We were, in fact, like gods, able to create something seemingly from nothing and to alter the very substance of existence, of reality itself. But we were very small gods, and our reach was limited.

  Larger tasks took time, energy, and persistence. Without access to greater resources like overflowing wellsprings of eldritch power, the pace of our labor was determined by our ability.

  Thankfully, Master Nomba’s ability was far greater than mine.

  And the valley was an ideal resource.

  Time loomed large as I worked.

  We could be here for years.

  The Greensward had never looked so good.

  That this barren valley would be our new home for some time made my heart sink.

  On a positive note, I had become a master tent summoner, so our needs for protection from the elements were covered. In fact, my first order of business after warding us from demons was to summon a tent and begin setting up a self-sustaining demonic ward around it.

  Then we could actually sleep at night.

  After channeling energy all day, we would need all the sleep we could get.

  “Maeraeth!”

  Master Nomba’s voice echoed across the valley.

  I winced.

  Even with alarms to warn of infernal approach and the necessary wards to protect us from them, I did not want our presence announced to the world at large. Thankfully, this area was so dead and isolated that the likelihood of encountering demons was relatively low.

  So Master Nomba had assured me.

  But, like most of his assurances, I think they were largely meant to get me out of the tent and off to work on one project or another, in much the same way our relationship worked in the Greensward.

  I walked over to where Master Nomba was standing outside our tent, the air alive with shifting empyrean equations detailing the minutiae of the warding. If Master Nomba had been writing in sunlight, the scene might not have looked much different.

  “Care to check my work?”

  Check his work?

  I could barely read and understand the problems he was elucidating and addressing, much less scan them for possible errors.

  Swallowing deeply, evincing a surety that I did not feel, I approached the result of my master’s labors and began my review.

  In my mind, I first visualized the energy flows the equations detailed, looking for snags, dead ends, inefficiencies, sinks, and breaks. Then I looked at the living mosaic as a whole, what appeared in the mind’s eye as a spherical angelic latticework of Heavenly Light writ in indecipherably complex arcane calligraphy.

  I do not know how long I observed my master’s work, only that it took the greater part of a day.

  The overall arrangement appeared sound relative to the fluctuations and conditions of the valley, but there appeared to be some energy paths that might allow magic to escape from the shielding trap.

  I pointed. “Here and here, Master. The energy field needs refinement. Over time, the energy loss could render the entire expression invalid.”

  Master Nomba clapped.

  He actually clapped!

  “Excellent, Maeraeth! Excellent! I might have missed that.”

  I blushed, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

  Although proud and glad for the compliment, it truly was unwarranted. Master Nomba had devised and crafted the entire painting. I had merely pointed out a couple of minor smudges that needed a few additional brush strokes.

  The first few of weeks in the valley passed uneventfully. With his equations set and the immense magical founts of power nearby, Master Nomba was able to create the inner shield much quicker than we had anticipated.

  Our hopes and expectations soared.

  But not for long.

  The de
mons came.

  On a Wing and a Slayer

  I soared above the valley of elementals on the wings of a golden dragon.

  Despite the dire threat that lay ahead, the danger that could spell the end of the el’amin, my heart was torn.

  Riding a dragon was a childhood dream come true.

  And it was no longer a dream.

  I was so moved that I risked changing back into human form to feel the wind rush around me with my own skin, to hear Skauorea’s mighty wings beat with the power of thunder, to experience the majesty of her sinuous body surging beneath me as she tore through the firmament, and to touch the liquid smoothness of her scales beneath my hands.

  Though I was but an insect upon her broad back, my world grew larger with each stroke of her wings.

  Below us, the greenery of the valley reborn faded as we circled above Noema’jin, earth’s gateway, doorway to the elementals’ home on Uërth, now a vale at war.

  And my butterflies reveled in another companion in flight.

  Lucius, that crafty devil, had somehow managed to sneak up on Skauorea’s back, for he hovered beside me like he owned the place, unfazed by demonic plagues and flights with dragons alike.

  Below us, nestled between rocky crags, deep in the heart of the mountain valley, I could see Noema’jin and its peril. Smoke slowly curling upward from its inner reaches, a vast chasm opened in the center of the valley, as though the rift below was an opening onto another world, a pathway into Uërth’s heart, a doorway into the planet’s inner secrets.

  Even from high above the peaks, I could see the massed, rocky forms of the elementals, grouped together in a seething mineral wall, fighting against the surging tide of demonic Darkness. The el’amin clustered protectively around Noema’jin, fighting with their lives and every bit of their souls to prevent the rampaging demons from invading the heart of their inner sanctum.

  Within this shifting mass, blinding flashes of Light shimmered, dancing from place to place faster than the eye could register, cutting down whole swathes of Darkness. These were the Empyrean Knights, Light’s own champions wielding nonpareil Angel Swords, joined with their elemental brethren to prevent the spawn of Chaos from inflicting further damage upon the already stricken world and her peoples, wherever they might be.

  These shining Lights were arrayed against demonic forces cloaked in madness, unleashing vile magics in concussive blasts and creeping waves.

  The valley rang with the sounds and energy of battle.

  We would have to venture into the heart of this maelstrom if we were to help.

  I would not wish such a fate upon anyone.

  But wishes and what is right do not always go together.

  If I was to help ward Uërth from demons, then I would start by protecting Noema’jin from further demonic assault.

  I owed Lucius and Master Nomba nothing less.

  “Skauorea, could you set me down beside Noema’jin?”

  I would need to be close to the rift in order to begin warding it.

  I was not certain how I would work under such conditions, only that it must be done.

  “You have but to ask.”

  Flying to almost certain death had never sounded so good!

  “Thank you, Skauorea!” I tried to answer politely so that she could hear the deep appreciation in my voice, but with the howling winds whipping around us, I had to yell.

  Either way, she seemed content. Spiraling back toward the purged valley, she favored me with a grin that would have, under other circumstances, caused me to wet myself.

  We landed on a high prominence overlooking the valley.

  The other members of the dragon flight were waiting there to greet us, their lustrous scales as bright and uplifting as the thrashing demonic hordes in the valley below were aphotic and terrifying.

  Floating above the peak, the gathered elementals observed the plight of their kindred below and vibrated with intensity.

  I would not envy the demons below when Lucius and his elemental brethren charged through their ranks.

  Standing on the cliff looking down at the valley below, I felt like I was standing on the shores of another world. A world of relative normalcy and calm lay behind me, the world as it was and should one day be. Before me lay the present and an unacceptable future, one filled with more demons and despoliation.

  Even from on high, with Lucius hovering placidly by my side, my halo of butterflies strangely calm as well—taking their cue from Lucius, perhaps—I could see that the elementals were slowly, inexorably losing the fight.

  Though my inadvertent magic had cleansed the infernal blight from the valley behind us, it had done nothing to purge the scourge below us.

  Rank upon rank of demons filled the valley from end to end.

  I could not know for sure, but I guessed that many of the demons previously gathered at the Chaos Gate outside Kerraboer had fled here after the portal’s fall, harried by the forces of Light.

  That so many fell entities had made it safely this far from the Chaos Gate filled me with dread.

  The catalog of nightmares below was beyond telling. Gigantic creatures, some the size of citadels, waded through pools of living Darkness. Horrific monsters wreathed in unholy magics pressed shoulder-to-shoulder against living nightmares. Above the thronging juel’dara, dread lords flew on wings darker than the gulfs between stars. The air was thick with vile magics and curses, painting the landscape in all the gruesome hues of the apocalypse.

  This motley legion of chaos pressed inexorably ahead, slowly crushing all those who opposed their advance. Though throngs of elementals, holy Empyrean Guard, and heroes of the Light fought bravely, radiating outward from the boundaries of Noema’jin, protecting the yawning stone entry into the elementals’ home within the Uërth, their defense appeared futile.

  The Abyss had vomited out its darkest treasures upon the borders of Noema’jin. The infernals were too numerous to resist.

  Even from on high, I could feel the debilitating taint of the demonic presence sullying us, coating us with filth.

  There was no way I was going to cut my way through that writhing mass.

  But, thanks to the dragon flight, I would not have to.

  When Wards Collide

  “Master! Demons!”

  I could see two infernals rushing toward us.

  The first, twice the size of an elephant and whole worlds uglier, resembled a drunkard’s caricature of a rhinoceros beetle mixed with a poxed crab with a sprinkle of nightmare thrown in. The thing did not so much run along the ridgeline as skitter as if in retreat from some otherdimensional tide. With no tide present, just succulent mortal flesh and unharvested souls, I knew we were its intended target.

  Shadowing the insectoid from above, a master leisurely walking its dog, as sleek as the first demon was scabrous, the second demon made my stomach sink and my heart flutter. Wings vast as night and infinitely darker, a Shadow made real, cloaked in Darkness, the Shadow Lord radiated fear like heat from an exploding sun. My mind could not wrap around or hold its form.

  All I can say with assurance is that the demon was vaguely humanoid on a scale to defy the imagination, with taloned hands and feet and a long, whipping tail that could slash souls from their moorings. I could not discern its features, nor did I wish to comprehend them.

  The demon lord was the outline of something terrible I did not wish to see.

  “A duaga! We must go!”

  I sprinted toward the rise on which Master Nomba had been working before he turned to see the demons fast approaching.

  Out of breath from my run, I panted. “We can come back to finish our work when the demons have passed.”

  Master Nomba nodded calmly. To him, the moment seemed commonplace, and his self-confidence buoyed mine. As Master Nomba began his teleportation spell, he urged, “Come close and let us be away!”

  Unfortunately, his spell was never finished.

  Our visitors had other ideas.

  A gout
of black fire erupted from the earth before us, the tumult knocking us off our feet and showering us with a rain of earth and rocks.

  Stunned, I fell to the ground, my vision blurry, disoriented from a blow to the head by flying clods of dirt.

  Though our shields warded us from demonic contact and magics, they did not protect us from mundane physical attack.

  Like God’s own hammer, shifting strategy rapidly before the demons could close, Master Nomba summoned a shimmering wall of force and smote down the insectoid demon in a splurting geyser of foul ichor. Viscous fluids covered the mountain in steaming piles of entrails in all directions as the evocation disappeared.

  Regaining my senses, not yet having Master Nomba’s ability to engage greater demons effectively, I yelled, “I will shield us from further physical assault!”

  The idea was to give us time and opportunity to get away.

  Before my spell was complete, the demon lord was upon us.

  “Stay behind me, Maeraeth!”

  Azure strands of power blossomed around Master Nomba’s hands, growing more and more intense with each instant.

  The demon crashed to the ground, the impact knocking me from my feet once more. Roiling Darkness cloaked the horrendous creature in a pall of impenetrable negation.

  Unfazed, cloaked in power, Master Nomba held his ground.

  Regaining clarity as I struggled to stand, I completed my second ward with a staccato invocation, cloaking us both in a halo of corporeal protection.

  At least that was my intent.

  It was a good one.

  Reality and my desires are ever at odds.

  Never was that more perfectly apparent, or more inappropriately timed, than this very instant.

  As quickly as my spell finished, the wards protecting us from demonic assault, the ones we had so carefully maintained on our excursions, fell away.

  And Master Nomba stood face-to-face with a lord of the nether Abyss.

  Unprotected.

  “Maeraeth!

  “Run!”

  To add even more shame to my failing, I did.