Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  As the world detonated with an irresistible concussive burst of Light behind me, my master died, sacrificing himself to save me.

  And I died with him.

  The parts of me that believed, the parts of me that had been believed in, were burnt away alongside my master and his dreams.

  All because of me.

  And my wild magic.

  A Final Encounter

  I turned to the gathered elementals and dragons.

  From smooth stone to jagged scales, the beings that looked back at me could not be more different, but we were united by a common cause, even if our reasons, ultimate aims, and desires differed.

  I would not tell them what to do, for their destinies were their own, but I would let them know what I was planning. From there, they were free to choose their own path. Though the dragons and elementals were each fighting for their lands, for their lives, and for their futures, we were all fighting for our world.

  The battle had not ended with the fall of the Chaos Gate, nor would it end after today. The war would continue until every last demon had been wiped from the planet, from our dimension, their presence cleansed and their threat banished.

  We would be a part of that cure today and tomorrow, so long as we lived, for if we were not, the threat of the infernals would never end.

  “I have one purpose today.

  “This is the same purpose I have every day.

  “That purpose is to help save and protect our world, to give everyone and everything a chance to live the life of which they dream.

  “Today, this means I will try to shield Noema’jin from demonic incursion.

  “Permanently.

  “I am not here to slay demons. You are all far more able than I.

  “I am here to prevent demons from slaying anyone or anything else.

  “I may not have the power to shield the entirety of Noema’jin before I fall, but I do have the ability. There is no other alternative, so it must happen.

  “I am grateful for all you have done and will do.

  “I am glad to have known you and shared in your purpose.

  “May the Light guide and keep you, my friends.”

  I leaned forward in a short bow.

  If these were to be among my last moments on Uërth, I wanted them to be true, heartfelt, and full of meaning.

  I also realized that that was probably more than I had spoken uninterrupted in our entire journey together.

  Mirroring my bow, the elementals gave a deep dip, then arced over the cliff side in perfect tandem, following smooth parabolas, their easy, fluid motion belying the destructive potential building as they accelerated precipitously down the mountainside.

  The gathered dragons, too, declined their massive heads gracefully on their long spined necks. Their voices rang out in chorus in my mind. “Yours is Light that shines brightly, Noema’lun. Let it burn.”

  If I could blush, I would have.

  Since I was presently made of stone, I merely felt a slight surface warmth from the praise.

  “Skauorea, would you be able to help me reach the edge of Noema’jin?”

  The mighty dragon titled her head in study for a moment. “Would you take the gift of flight? We will remain here while you journey onward.”

  When I hesitated, confused, she added, “Do not fear. We will not abandon you.”

  Who does not want to fly?

  “Any gift you choose to give would be most appreciated.”

  Once again, she bent over and lightly rested her snout on me. I felt a small tingle and nothing more. My hovering, however, felt a bit steadier.

  Who can say that they are fortunate enough to have been kissed by a dragon twice?

  Especially when the alternative is being eaten?

  I turned to Lucius. “Will you be joining me?”

  “I would have it no other way, Noema’lun.” At least that was what I thought he said. I was a bit emotional and cannot say I was fully present.

  This time it was I who led Lucius while he held on.

  Gathering momentum, I sped toward the cliff, arcing heavenward as I flew into space. Keeping my eye on Noema’jin, I arced downward toward the field of travail below, taking care to avoid intervening regions of demonic activity.

  Thankfully, the demons were focused on the elementals on the ground.

  “Do you see that shimmering light at Noema’jin’s edge? Make for it.”

  I was not sure exactly how I knew what point of light Lucius had referenced, since he could not point, but I did know where he meant.

  There was, immediately next to the rocky edge of the great, yawning rift, a light so bright that I could not bear to look directly upon it. The luminance dazzled the mind and eye.

  I did not need to look at the light to know where it was.

  I could feel its pull even from afar.

  I let the light draw me in.

  Behind us, flanked on either side by two dragons offering protection from potential attack, their voices slowly growing in magnitude and depth, moving eerily in ways the human voice could not, still perched on the mountaintop, the dragons began a common refrain. Soft yet powerful, imbued with arcane meaning, their chorus built and spread, filling the air with the charge of lightning and the threat of thunder.

  There was neither thunder nor lightning.

  But there was a storm.

  I could feel the tempest’s magic pulsing through my core, its summons reverberating in tune with the ethereal dragonsong.

  As certain as I had been of the location of Lucius’s light, I knew that the dragons were summoning forth an arcane tempest.

  I knew then that the destruction unleashed by the resulting furor would make the ferocity of the dragons’ fire seem tame in comparison.

  I sped even faster toward Noema’jin lest I get caught in the violent eldritch throes of the dragons’ summoning, for in an arcane tempest just about anything is possible and almost none of it is good for anyone caught within.

  Behind me, gouts of purple fire, waves of emerald lighting, translucent walls of unnamed forces, and other unidentified phenomena lashed across the valley as I rocketed downward. Wherever these energies impacted, demons exploded, blasted into the air, were crushed, simply disappeared, or worse. Space itself warped and twisted, rending demons limb from limb, teleporting body parts in different directions, severing fell entities in half, and smashing bodies to pulp.

  While the demons resisted the storm’s effects or, surprisingly, came to their vile allies’ aid, casting shields, wards, countercurses, and dispels, the elementals rallied, solidifying their positions, felling those infernals whose attention wavered, and striking down as many hellspawn within their ranks as possible, bolstering their defense.

  All the while, the storm raged and the dragons sang.

  Even as I neared Noema’jin itself, the dragons grown small in the distance, I could hear the otherworldly incantation. I realized then that the dragons’ magic was not one that was heard.

  It was felt.

  Their magic was calling to the fundament itself, and reality danced in tune.

  Ahead, resembling what many might envision as a gateway into the Abyss, the prodigious rictus to the el’amin’s home grew ever wider. Within, the fires of Uërth itself glowed unbanked, moving through uncharted chambers leading far into the planet’s core.

  These caverns were where the elementals sought refuge, where they were born, and where they returned.

  Closer now, I could see the forms of companies of armored Empyrean Knights, as much Light as men, shimmering and cutting through the gathered throngs of Darkness, streaking reflected sunlight dancing atop dark waters. The knights’ pellucid blades wrought holy vengeance upon the throngs of Chaos, but as quickly as demons fell, more took their place.

  Solid to the knights’ fluidity, elementals smashed, crushed, and whirled in frenzies of animated carnage. Where some elementals fell before blows or unholy arcana, shattered or broken, their constituent part
s rose and fought on, many parts more destructive than the whole.

  Still more demons came.

  Behind me, the valley churned and blasted as magic on a landscape scale wreaked chaos upon the creatures of Chaos itself.

  Whole bands of juel’dara broke ranks, swarming up the mountainside, attempting to unseat the dragons’ chimeric assault. Thunderous blasts and unseen bolts mowed the demons down before they could reach their targets. Demon lords lashed the dragons with curses, but found their magics countered by the draconic defenders. Uncoordinated, confused, and routed, not banding together to create a common counter-ritual, demons fell like the acidic rain pouring over their ranks from the seething, uncanny clouds above.

  While multitudes of infernals began their retreat, el’amin and Empyrean Knights charged into their flanks, cutting down those demons in flight, forcing further confusion in the enemies’ ranks as the withdrawal of the many hindered the advance of the few.

  “There.”

  I landed in a small opening in the churning elemental mass nearest to Noema’jin’s rocky edge.

  At the center of this clearing, its point buried in the raw rock, a blade of liquid starshine shone with the purity of the sun’s first day and the joy of a babe’s first smile.

  No demonic forms lay within this space, for none had been able to brave its Light.

  I looked upon a fragment of Heaven gently resting upon the Uërth.

  Landing beside me, Lucius settled into the clearing with ease and ready familiarity.

  “You will be free to work your protections here, Noema’lun.

  “None will accost you so long as Loer’allon shines.”

  Loer’allon.

  Light’s edge.

  The name was apt.

  A flickering whirl of incandescence, my butterflies swirled away from me and fluttered excitedly about the blade as if they had finally met their true self, best friend, or long-lost mother.

  Or maybe all of those things rolled into one.

  The angel sword appeared imperturbed.

  Perhaps it was used to this kind of attention.

  I certainly could appreciate my butterflies’ excitement.

  “I must leave you now, for there is much work to be done.”

  Lucius meant for the both of us, and I could not disagree.

  Even if I did not want him to go.

  I watched Lucius dart away from the chasm’s edge, moving from a blur to an invisible streak, his motion only trackable by the clouds of demonic ichor exploding in his wake.

  If ever retribution had a name, it was Lucius.

  While elementals and demons fell behind me, I approached the sword solemnly, trapped between moments.

  The weight of time and lives lost lay heavily upon me, but I could not resist the sword’s allure.

  I drew closer and shifted from elemental to human form naturally and, surprisingly, without unexpected effect.

  As I neared the sword, deep, abiding peace flowed over me, a serenity filled with joy and love for all living things.

  These feelings were as much my own as they were the Angel Sword’s.

  Reaching out my hand, I rested my fingers lightly, lovingly, upon the blade.

  My world exploded inward upon itself into infinite Light.

  A Purpose

  There was nothing but Light, boundless, beautiful and whole.

  It embraced me, and I it.

  It welcomed me into Its fold and uplifted me on the wings of Creation.

  I was free.

  But I was not yet done.

  This Heaven was not yet mine to partake.

  “There are those I must protect.”

  My life spread before me in a seamless mosaic, so small but still a beautiful totality, within the absolute expanses of the sword’s inner reaches.

  A recollection came to my mind, one of my life’s most telling threads, Master Nomba’s vision to protect the people of Uërth from demonic influence, to allow people to live without fear and in the fullness of their own destinies.

  We could shield Uërth from demons.

  We could form a protective barrier, a seal, to prevent further demonic incursion.

  Instead of a single Empyrean Gate to hold back the throngs of Chaos, we could protect the world with many points of Light.

  Angel Swords, Heaven’s ashes scattered across Uërth’s surface, could form a shield to protect the planet from demonic invasion.

  This was the purpose I had dedicated my life to achieve.

  This was an aim I would give my life to realize.

  “Is this your wish?” The voice seemed to come from within me, but I knew it was not my own.

  “It is.”

  I felt my soul, my essence, expand outward, unimaginably vast, cast out upon the winds of Creation, linked with other infinities, other boundless Heavens, Angel Swords, strewn across Uërth’s surface after Heaven’s fall.

  Buoyed on all sides by living Light, I was a net cast over our world. My soul, along with all those in the other Angel Swords, would be the aegis protecting Uërth from further demonic incursion.

  I could think of no better final resting place for my butterflies.

  Lifted on the fractured wings of Heaven, the shards of angels, and the souls of heroes, I was Heaven’s ward on Uërth.

  Partnership

  Vistas of unlimited Light, luminous chambers reaching into infinity, surrounded me as I dissolved into Heaven and lost myself in Glory.

  “Let me guess. Lucius brought you here?”

  A voice rang out in my mind, disturbing my absorption, as my sense of self slowly returned.

  Where was I?

  Was I dead and gone?

  Was I somehow in the sword?

  Was I talking to the sword?

  “No. You’re talking to me. Loer’allon tends not to say too much.”

  “And you are?”

  “Saedeus.

  “Or, I’m at least part of myself.

  “As best I can determine.

  “Or maybe I’m a duplicate of myself in here.

  “With the others.”

  Others?

  “Yes, others.

  “You’ll get used to it. There’s a whole host of angels and would-be angels in here, from Alric on back.

  “It can get rather boring.

  “They’re good folks. A bit uptight…prim and proper.

  “I’m sure you’ll help change all that.

  “Right?”

  I really had no idea.

  “Please tell me you’ll help change all this.

  “I’m trapped in here with saints!

  “Can’t you see what that does to a soul?”

  I could not, but I did have some ideas.

  “You’re just like them!”

  The voice was tinged with a mixture of exasperation, playful humor, and a bit of real anxiety.

  Or so I guessed.

  We would see.

  Epilogue

  Alone on the rocky expanse, Luecaeus rested sedately on the precipitous edge of Noema’jin within the halo of divine Light radiating from Loer’allon.

  Darkness filled the valley of the el’amin.

  The demons were gone from his home, cast out, hopefully never to return.

  His people had suffered greatly, but they had survived.

  The remaining dragons had returned to their lands, alliances of old reforged in life and sacrifice.

  He sent them his heartfelt thanks and allegiance should the need ever arise, for their plight had been his own.

  He wished to stay and abide in Loer’allon’s glory, to help his people rebuild and regrow, to cleanse the last of the juel’dara’s taint from his home, and assist in its restitution.

  But his time had not yet come.

  He needed a new wera’dun as much as Uërth needed her protectors.

  For they were one and the same.

  Legacy of the Blade Book 3: Stone Singer

  Stone Singer

  Word
and Deed

  Legacy of the Blade Book 3

  Joseph J. Bailey

  Author’s Note:

  Be your own voice. Realize your own vision.

  Be the Voice you wish to hear in the world.

  -Mistress Alyendra

  Stone in Need of Word and Deed

  Luecaeus was filled with the joy of sadness.

  His heart-essence ached with tumultuous resonating energetic structures, the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, flashing through his longruen.

  His wera’dun had accomplished amazing deeds.

  The Chaos Gate had fallen, consumed by Saedeus, djen’toth of the Unending Wood. The fell portal to the nether reaches opening Uërth to legions of the foul, essence-consuming juel’dara was no more, one last gift from the mightiest of reluctant heroes.

  The world was now protected by a shimmering mantle of living energies, the soul of Maeraeth writ across the heavens by the mighty, Heaven-sent Angel Swords. Further incursions by the devourers of living essence had been thwarted by Maeraeth’s heart-essence and sacrifice.

  And yet Luecaeus was alone.

  What other great deeds were there to be accomplished?

  Whose voice would ring out to the heavens in answer to Uërth’s need?

  His friends, though with him in part, were also not with him in part.

  Unmoved, settling into the ground in patient abiding, the dust of an abandoned valley whipped across his still form.

  He would wait.

  He would listen.

  He would come at need.

  Choosing

  In the distance, footsteps rang through the crystalline corridors.

  These echoes were not my own, for I was already standing at the fore of the Leyalia G’nost, the Gate of Light, one egress from within Kun’Daer to the wider world without. This portal, and others like it, bridged the gap between my city and the outer world, a separation that had allowed us to live when so many others had died.