I could, however, tell where Lucius had been by the reactions of the unsuspecting, swarming demons.
Black ichor spurted in the air as Lucius blasted through the torso of the nearest demon, the one that had been tracking us by scent, in an expanding cloud of entrails. His trajectory taking him directly toward the greater demon, Lucius sped forward, surging through yet another of the smaller demons, leaving its headless body spouting fluids as he blasted by.
The night erupted in furious sparks as Lucius’ rocketing forward momentum was deflected by a mighty blow from the greater demon’s unholy blade. Careening through the darkness, Lucius smashed through a tree trunk before finally arresting his flight.
In the time it took all this to happen, I managed a single step forward, even with my movements hastened by magical enchantment.
Undeterred, perhaps unwisely, I kept moving ahead, beginning the weavings of another spell.
Sparks flew, lighting the night in chaotic flames as Lucius collided with the greater demon’s blade again and again.
Their attention focused on Lucius, for each of his strikes and ricochets were simultaneously aimed to mow down the lesser demons, I had time to cast my spell even with my glacial relative pace.
Bodies began to litter the forest floor.
In response, the remaining lesser demons began to fan out, their motions tortuously erratic as they skipped and warped from place to place, gradually encircling Lucius even as they continued to fall. At the center of their noose, its central focus, the greater demon fought maniacally, at home in the chaos of the moment, lashing out at Lucius fearlessly even as his allies fell.
I feared that a direct strike from my magic would not break through the greater demon’s shroud of Darkness.
I also worried that I might not have more than one chance to aid Lucius before the demons turned their attention to me.
Instead of a direct attack, I sang for the Uërth to refuse the demons’ tainted touch.
Not exactly like ice, for the demons seemed to be only partially in contact with the ground, but preventing a firm grip, the earth rejected their presence, and the demons began to lose their footing. First careening drunkenly back and forth as they lost control and then slowing down to maintain some semblance of poise, the demons’ coordinated efforts began to fall apart.
Lucius facilitated this transition.
Exploding through arms and legs, heads and chests, he wrought havoc upon the demons even as they tried to impose order and discipline upon themselves.
Channeling my own magics through the rune staff, I began blasting scintillating bolts of power at the demons even as I maintained the protective wards around us.
As I had suspected, my magical shots did little to harm the greater demon with its infernal aegis, but the arcane blasts smote the swarming lesser demons with satisfying sprays of tenebrous fluids.
Ignoring the greater demon while he still had the advantage, Lucius tore through the lesser demons in an earthen blur, mowing down their scabrous masses like a scythe through dry grass.
In that moment, when Lucius shifted his effort to the lesser infernals, the greater demon turned its attention to me.
I had enough composure to draw my staff up defensively and coalesce my song in front of me, a reverberating wall of arcane antiphase.
In a dismissive gesture, a frothing gout of churning Darkness mushroomed outward from the greater demon’s outstretched hand, enveloping me in accursed force.
The last thing I remember was seeing Lucius explode through the greater demon’s skull as it tried to kill me.
Homecoming
I woke to a day as clear and pure as an angel’s conscience, the horrors of the night almost forgotten before the new day’s blazing beauty.
I could actually see the sun rising above the rocky mountaintops, its golden light casting liquid shadows that spilled across the landscape in lustrous hues.
I felt too weak to stand, so I remained lying on the ground. “What happened?
“How long have I been out?”
Still groggy, I did a quick self-assessment.
Everything seemed in order. I did not have any punctures or severed limbs. I felt intact, just exceedingly weak, my last reserves taken from me as I fought to survive the demonic assault.
Lucius made three marks on the ground.
“Three days?”
His reassuring bob was all the confirmation I needed.
Risking the effort to raise my head, I looked around.
I could see no signs of the demons’ corpses.
“What did you do with the demons?”
This time I listened, reading Lucius carefully so that I need not cast a spell to understand him. In effect, he said, “They have been consigned to the earth.”
I supposed that was a better end than the fiends had deserved.
I waited patiently for some time, letting my head settle and clarify before I felt ready to try to sit up.
Breakfast was calling, and I needed to heed its tune.
Unfortunately, it took far longer than I would have liked for me to be able to listen.
While Lucius partook of the majesty of the morn, I gingerly took in the wonders of sustenance, for my body needed food as much as the vital land needed sunlight and magic.
I sampled choice morsels from my pack while Lucius appreciated the view.
Almost directly to the east now, Noema’jin lay beyond a final soaring ridgeline, leagues away as the dragon flew and much farther as the human struggled.
After our recent travails, I could not get there soon enough.
Between us, tumbling rows of smaller peaks and hollows stretched in an undulating carpet of verdancy.
No matter the distance or challenge, life was in the journey, and each step through the homeland of the elementals was filled with something new.
Despite the risks, despite how I presently felt, I relished the days ahead.
Below us, the earth’s song was strong and vibrant, cultivated by the presence of numerous elementals, survivors of the demonic transgressions and guardians of all that remained.
These were the protectors of what had been and the fosterers of what was to come.
I could sense their magic at work, bolstering the earth, working to heal the scars wrought by the demonic usurpers.
Finally having stowed away my gear, strengthening myself with words of renewal and empowerment, I stood, fastened my pack, and asked, “Are you ready?”
Never flagging, Lucius merely drifted over the ledge, finding the easiest path ahead in anticipation of the challenges borne by mortal legs.
The signs of demonic incursion grew in scope and intensity as we descended, drawing closer to Noema’jin. Though fresh and raw, the devastation left in the dragon killer’s wake was but an indication of a greater, more far-reaching and pervasive battle spread throughout the lands of the elementals. Valley after valley, ridge after ridge, was marked with one blight or another.
The land ahead was a reflection of this struggle.
Thankfully, the infernal cause of this despoliation had been driven from the heart of the elementals’ home.
This absence, though not its abiding effects, was more than welcome, for I did not think we would have completed our journey otherwise.
Wending my way down the mountainside, I saw trails where trees had been obliterated, crushed into the earth as underneath some massive tread, burnt to the ground by infernal flames, or blasted into jagged fragments. These were demonic pathways that juel’dara had used to cut through the elemental lands to reach their heart.
Strewn all about us, their rubble still fresh and unworn by time and weather, pieces of slain elementals littered the cliffside and forest floor, a sad reminder of how much this struggle had cost. Though their lives had not been lost in vain, for the demons had ultimately been repelled, these el’amin would never return to Noema’jin despite having given their lives to defend it.
Unwelcome, appalling, and
out of place, the twisted remains of demons, from pulverized serpentine monsters to otherworldly horrors, were heaped in great piles, all in various stages of purification under the arcane attention of the elementals. The heinous scars left by these abominations were as shocking as their vile, putrescent corpses.
Among the forest’s remnants and dross, living elementals floated forlornly, focused on their tasks, paying us little regard as we passed. Though muted and somber, their songs remained strong and true, undaunted by yet another challenge.
“Has all of your homeland suffered so?”
His small form drifting next to mine, Lucius shrugged, his motion a slight shift up and down. “Compared to most, our lands have suffered not at all.
“We are fortunate to still call our ancestral abode home.
“Our lands will recover.
“As will we.
“Worry not for us, Noema’dar, for the el’amin will abide so long as the Uërth revolves around the sun.”
I laughed. “Don’t cut yourself short!”
Lucius’ response was deadpan, or at least what I guessed was the elemental equivalent thereof, as he replied, “There will be other Uërths.”
“Just as there will be other el’amin?”
Lucius did not respond, but his silence was answer enough.
As we passed more and more demonic carnage, along with additional infernal and elemental corpses, my mood began to grow heavy, weighed down by the loss and widespread marring of the otherwise rich lands all around.
In response, I intensified my singing, lending my voice to those so hard at work around me, bolstering their exertions and effects, as best as I was able. Each note was an agent of change, a ripple intended to cause a wave. With enough effort and time, these notes would help sweep away the affliction sullying the land.
My song, too, was a refuge, its varied notes and tones keeping me buoyant and afloat lest I sink into depression or futility.
Unlike Lucius, I was not as obdurate as stone. I must be flexible and resilient to survive.
The sounds of my words, even as they echoed in my mind, provided a way out, a path forward, through the mire of loss so tangible all around us as we wove among the forested slopes and rocky knolls of Lucius’ home.
Wrapped in song, my words blending with the greater symphony, I found my way forward as best I could.
Just like Uërth and all its denizens.
I imagined my song’s diaphanous blessing, each note cast out to the wind seeking places of attachment, spreading across the land. Every time we stopped for rest or refreshment, I began to secure portions of this music in position, much like points of anchoring on a spider’s web, the reinforcing resonances of my labors the binding intersections of strands. With the rich magic of the elemental lands and the proper skeining, this lyrical web, cast loosely over the landscape, would persist through time and stimulate the land’s ultimate recovery.
At least that was my hope.
I gave all I could to the effort, relying on Lucius to alert me to any dangers or foreseeable challenges ahead.
Time passed quickly, for I was lost in the moment as much as the place, the intensity of my focus on my weavings such that I crossed the land only half-aware of the beauty and complexity of my environs.
As much as I wished that I could give my full attention to the journey itself, the wonders of the elementals’ home, my incantations were more important than what I might or might not wish for myself.
After days of hard travel, during most of which I had been lost in invocation and the composition of renewal, we finally stood atop a sere rocky peak overlooking the heart of the elementals’ home. I held Lucius cupped in my hands, the valley of the elementals spread before us. To our left, a series of waterfalls cascaded down the mountainside through lush greenery. The surging cataracts disappeared underground near a great cleft at the valley’s heart.
This chasm, so rife with power and majesty, could only be Noema’jin. Its overflowing song filled the valley with a lustrous, enlivening resonance. Beyond the valley’s physical wonders and the upwelling power of Noema’jin, the elementals’ home reverberated with music as deep, nuanced, and ancient as the Uërth itself.
Jarring against this ancient tranquility, notes of dissonance echoed throughout the vale, remnants of the supernatural battle just recently passed. I could see and feel horrific scars of this war extending throughout the valley, reaching to the very edge of Noema’jin itself.
My voice bittersweet, I looked down at Lucius and said, “Welcome home.”
I could sense rather than see Lucius’ smile.
“I never left.”
I did not doubt Lucius at his word.
Across the valley to the east, past Noema’jin, the landscape appeared to have been arrested in the midst of some catastrophic flux. This chaos, a wound at the heart of the elementals’ home, was in the process of being restored by Lucius’ myriad brethren.
The mountainsides were alive with living stone, the land’s caretakers busily at work erasing the rampant damage delivered by the spawns of Chaos.
Under the elementals’ capable guidance, the valley hummed with life, its song, and its actualization.
Over all this, suffusing, binding, and uplifting the valley in its totality, heavenly music rang forth.
This music originated at Noema’jin, though it was not part of the earth’s gateway, and sheltered the entirety of the place.
I had never heard nor seen its like.
I would gladly add my refrain to this chorus’s echoes and rejoice in its joy.
Moved beyond words, I finally managed, “Is this the aegis Maeraeth created?”
If so, I would surely like to make his acquaintance.
Lucius’ response was a noncommittal shrug.
I knew he was teasing me, countering my enthusiasm with nonchalance.
Lucius was a crafty one.
“I would like very much to meet him.”
Lucius, his restoration from pile of dirt to obdurate stone all but complete, offered a short gesture that I took as, “Your patience will soon be rewarded.”
I could not wait.
Which, I discovered, was part of the problem with patience.
Or its lack.
Valley Home
As we descended, moving through loose, uprooted rocks, around massive, lichen-covered boulders, and down treacherous, dizzying grades, I found my attention drawn to a location near Noema’jin.
There was, perched at the great chasm’s periphery, a whole world, a whole universe, of song. This music, this magic, was concentrated so intensely within a single object that it shimmered like a newborn sun, radiating simultaneously outward and inward through space in ways and means I could not begin to comprehend.
It was toward this point that Lucius took me down the rocky slopes.
“Where are we headed, Lucius?
“Is there something in particular you wish for me to see here?”
My plan, such as it was, had always been to travel through the lands of the elementals on the way to Kerraboer. Beyond that simple sketch, not even a rough silhouette, I had filled in little in the way of details. In fact, Lucius had taken it upon himself to fill in the vague outlines of my schemata and realize my intention.
I had been so lost in my endeavors, trying to aid in the recovery, that I had done little to guide our actions or question him. Instead, content with spreading healing waves over the lands we passed, I had let Lucius lead where and how he would.
Coming to Noema’jin, I did not regret my decision or Lucius’.
I was just curious.
And I had a feeling that Lucius’ plans extended beyond my own.
If the restored rune staff strapped across my back was any indication, at least some of my efforts were bearing fruit.
I speculated that Lucius’ might be more interesting.
And fruitful.
“You wished to meet my most recent wera’dun, Maeraeth and Saedeus.
>
“They are here.
“At least in part.
“You will meet them.
“Perhaps, as is the way of your kind, you will become hun’zar.
“Perhaps they will accompany us on our journey, if you so desire.”
“That would be splendid!”
I would love to have some companionship on our travels, to actually meet some other people and potentially make friends.
Lucius was great, as steadfast a companion as I could ever desire, but I always enjoyed meeting new people, finding out about their lives, their stories, what motivated them, and what inspired them to survive in a world as harsh and unforgiving as Uërth.
Lucius seemed pleased with my response.
I was pleased with Lucius, too. Not only because he was trying, in his own way, to look out for my best interests but because he was looking out for everyone’s.
I watched him bob through the air before me, like my staff’s, his restoration complete.
He had been reborn and remade from the earth, from Uërth itself, its fragments now made whole.
Perhaps he could do the same for the wider world.
With a little help.
Lucius encompassed so much in so little, his earthen body a microcosm of the world and its spirit. Chimeric whenever I looked at him. Yet I saw and felt something new. One moment he was but a simple floating rock; the next, his spirit resounded with the highest heights of Heaven and Uërth. He glimmered like a star ascendant, and the resplendence of the Heavenly Host echoed through him. Then, the next moment, as if everything I had seen and felt had been but a play of light or my overactive imagination, he would just be an aged stone once more, one perhaps interesting enough to pocket if I wanted to start a rock collection. But no more.
We did not follow a trail, for the land, though the elementals’ home, was wild, rugged, and untouched. At the peak’s heights, scant vegetation grew. As we descended, lichens, mosses, grasses, and magical symbiotes began to appear in greater profusion as life’s web reinforced itself, spreading across the landscape in ever more luxuriant waves. Small meadows gave way to lyrical woods and the ancient underlying silences of hallowed places.
Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy Page 45