Legacy of the Blade: The Complete Trilogy

by Joseph J. Bailey

  Even here, with elementals all around, we were left alone.

  I was a bit surprised that we received no welcome.

  Lucius, however, continued onward with aplomb.

  Drifting through the presence and energies of his brethren was enough for him.

  And if this was good enough for Lucius, it was good enough for me.

  Knowing his kindred still lived, that his home remained relatively intact, gave him a sense of place and purpose that only grew stronger as we approached Noema’jin.

  When it became clear that we would remain unaccosted on our descent, I resumed my alms, intent on giving what little I could to a place so grand.

  One so in need of all the attention I could offer.

  Despite the el’amins’ ongoing efforts to restore their home, whole regions of the periphery around Noema’jin had been reduced to molten slag which was still seething with the vile auras and residues of inimical, otherworldly magics. Great gouges and holes had been blasted into the earth, the unspeakable acts of infernals writ large across the landscape. Shattered rocks, discolored stone, heaping piles of turned earth, and obliterated plants and trees were obvious signs of infernal efforts to destroy the heart of the elementals’ home. A pall of extradimensional energies, utterly alien and inimical, lay thick across the valley despite the elementals’ efforts to beat it back.

  That Noema’jin had been the target of the juel’dara’s aggression was without question.

  I felt the shockwave of the demons’ residual presence like a slap across the face—stark, unwelcome, and undeniable. Theirs was the song of dissonance, discord, and decay, of entropy’s triumph and the end of dreams.

  And here, in the sacred heart of Noema’jin, this chorus had almost reached its crescendo.

  But something—this fragile light at Noema’jin’s periphery and its infinite hues, coupled with the unflaggable spirits of the el’amin themselves—had held this Darkness back.

  And this Light still shone.

  Despite the evident virulence of the demons’ assault, despite the intensity of their attack within this region afflicted by unholy arcana, there was, remarkably, still a halo of divine luminescence on Noema’jin’s eastern periphery, on the side of the great cleft nearest to the highest concentration of demonic activity, where the damage from demonic invasion was the most pronounced.

  It was toward this holy radiance that we steered our course.

  From within this halo of hope, the voice of Heaven itself called to me.

  Sword in the Sun

  I approached the rim of Noema’jin with feelings of awe and wonder.

  Lucius, floating next to me, was my earthen counterpoint, completely unfazed and unmoved by the majesty both of his home and the Angel Sword gleaming along its edge.

  Or perhaps he was just better at hiding his reverence.

  Or directing such feelings productively.

  I was as giddy as the day I had first discovered my Calling, as happy as the moment I had discovered my Voice, and filled with as much gratitude as when I had realized the importance of my family, to which Mistress Alyendra had become a welcome addition.

  But, despite the power of my emotions, these feelings were not the thing itself; they were but a reflection of my experience of it.

  And I had yet to truly experience, much less begin to comprehend, the Angel Sword.

  Lucius, ever the gracious guide, merely floated up to the Angel Sword and rested on the ground casually beside it, his work—and his introductions, by implication—done.

  Unable to stop myself, drawn by some urge I could not explain or resist, I approached the Angel Sword with my hand outstretched and bathed in luminance.

  Drawing near the sword, I felt a growing warmth within me, an upwelling of buoyant ecstasy that lifted my spirit and filled me with boundless Light and love.

  So overcome was I by these feelings that I did not realize until some indeterminate time later that I had halted, unable to continue forward as I remained rooted in place by bliss.

  Slowly returning to myself, I crossed the last few steps, not feeling my feet touching the ground, until my hand lightly rested upon the sword’s crystalline pommel.

  To describe an Angel Sword is to try to put words to a feeling, to detail the limits of thought, to sing of the movements of the heart or chart the inner causeways of the soul. Such efforts can be made, but they will be but diminutions of the objects of examination or expression.

  The Angel Sword glowed with a Light ineffable, was of Light itself, Light made solid and substantial, the spirit made real. It radiated a transcendent beneficence that was not of this world or any other, but one that made such places possible.

  It was not of Uërth, but of its essence.

  If this was the sword’s true measure, then the Angel Sword would be an item beyond worth, but those facets were but a small part of it.

  The sword was a sliver of Heaven and a Heaven unto itself.

  And it was a window into more.

  It was filled with spirits of those who had come before, in all their strengths and weaknesses. It supported them, held them, and made them whole.

  It was a universe unto itself and a bridge to a much wider one.

  And I held it within my hands.

  It cradled my song, just as it did so many others, within itself, making us all more than we were, helping us be all that we could be.

  I did not realize that I had withdrawn the sword—Loer’allon was its name—from where it had been resting point down, immersed in the raw rock, until Lucius floated into the air by my side.

  “’Bout time we were moving,” said a voice I did not recognize.

  Lucius bobbed his agreement, if not an explanation, beside me.

  Well Met

  I took only moments for me to realize the voice was in my head.

  Which was less of a surprise than I might have anticipated.

  I could feel the regard of the one who had addressed me, could sense the shape of his essence through the link provided by the sword, his soul a sketch in my mind’s eye.

  “And you are?” Unlike the voice, I spoke aloud.

  I found it a bit more comfortable than speaking quietly within my mind.

  At least for now.

  I suppose speaking aloud to no one in particular could be seen as equally unusual.

  Especially if taken out of context.

  But, even if such things felt peculiar, they were no more so than many others on Uërth.

  Speaking out loud to a sword and voices in your head was rather normal in a place where angels had fallen from the sky.

  I tried to keep a proper perspective.

  Even when there was no such thing.

  Undisturbed by my musings, the voice answered, “Saedeus. Friend to rocks, foe to infernals.

  “Rift walker. Gate destroyer.

  “Mushroom farmer.

  “Djen’toth.

  “The usual.”

  After a moment’s pause, he added, “And you? If Lucius brought you all this way to join us, you must be quite special.”

  The subtle tinge of sarcasm and ready humor I had heard in Saedeus’s introduction were gone. His words were sincere, if, perhaps, a bit too generous.

  “I am Ilya, a Singer of Kun’Daer. No one special.

  “Just someone trying to make a difference.”

  “That is special.”

  Another voice, this one perhaps with a bit less self-assured, one who was growing into himself but was still filled with a firm resolve along with a tinge of understatement.

  “And you are?”

  “Maeraeth, friend to the el’amin, djen’lum, and wild magician.”

  I sensed a smile, his in response to my introduction, as he replied in kind, “Just another guy trying to make a difference.”

  I returned his grin, mine visible. “Then we will make a good company.”

  “We all are djens. We are more than company. We are destiny.”

  S
aedeus did not lack in assurance.

  Or vision.

  Or self-assurance.

  I would grant him those.

  I sampled their presences, halos within the greater nimbus of Noema’jin.

  Both Maeraeth and Saedeus had range and breadth to their songs that, though they were incredibly different, were every bit as interesting and varied as Lucius’ own. They were filled with magic and possibility, vivacious and eager, unique characters trying to share their blessings with the world as they found their way in it.

  They were as bright as stars and just as worthy of consideration.

  “We are now together. And for that I am glad.”

  After a brief pause, Maeraeth added sincerely, “We’ve missed you, Lucius.”

  Maeraeth’s words were filled with hidden layers; there were deep currents beneath his intention, but their surficial meaning was also true.

  “And are happy you’re back. Who else would regale us with such nonpareil tales of wonder and woe in your absence?” The sarcasm in Saedeus’s words was evident, as was his care for his companion.

  He truly had missed Lucius.

  Just as he would not miss an opportunity to tease him.

  His attention directed toward me, Saedeus inquired, “And how exactly will you help save the world, djen’caer? For, if Lucius brought you here, that is what you must be about.”

  And that truly did seem to be what Lucius was about…

  Saving the world.

  That seemed to be the common thread among his friendships.

  But what of those who had not survived?

  Were they also abiding in the sword, or were they somewhere else entirely?

  Was this Lucius’ mission, his purpose?

  Was this task self-appointed, or just a duty he had taken upon himself?

  Lucius’ answer, just as his reasons, was not my own. “I would sing the world to health, to help restore what was lost.”

  “And how will you do this?” Maeraeth’s words, though brief, were filled with a kind understanding, for he had shared a similar burden, even if that had not been his original intent.

  “I do not yet know.”

  I could only be honest.

  But I could also offer my aspirations.

  “I plan to travel to Kerraboer, to meet the Empyrean Knights, and to seek their aid.”

  “If Lucius chose you, chances are, you will be doing quite a bit of this yourself.” Saedeus’ words were not unkind, just direct, perceptive, and colored by his own experience with Lucius.

  For the briefest moment, under the lens of their questions, my vision crystallized, and the unspoken intent I had harbored for so long came to the surface, my resolution clear.

  This purpose I shared. “I would join with other Singers in Kerraboer, together forming a chorus, singing the world anew, being the voice of change.

  “I would form a celestial choir and bring Heaven’s Voice to Uërth.”

  Saedeus laughed, but his tone was not mocking. Not in the slightest. In fact, it was full of assurance and encouragement. “Don’t let us hold you back!

  “Let’s go!”

  Maeraeth’s sentiment echoed Saedeus’s. “That is a most noble vision, Ilya.

  “I would be honored to share in it.”

  For an instant, I did not know what to say.

  Thanks?

  Having two unrivaled heroes of the realm offer their heartfelt support could be a little overwhelming.

  Slightly embarrassed, I did my best to deflect their compliment with one of my own. “It is I who am honored.”

  “Bah! You’re the one still alive.

  “Or at least embodied.”

  Saedeus’s voice trailed off for a moment as he mumbled to himself, “Well, I’m still embodied somewhere… I think.”

  Then, returning his attention to her, Seadeus added, “We’re just here to help!”

  I could not argue with his sentiment, nor could I turn down his offer.

  But we did not leave just yet.

  The day was old and, despite all the miracles of the place existing alongside its harsh realities, I was exhausted and in severe need of rest.

  Even ghosts and an animated rock would not begrudge a girl a few hours of rest before she set off to save the world.

  And even if they did, I was still going to sleep, because repose, like food, should only be turned down under the most dire of circumstances.

  Especially when needed.

  After a quick meal, I wished everyone goodnight, laid out my bedroll, rested my satchel and rune staff next to me, and fell asleep beside a luminous blade that had once descended from the heavens.

  In that moment, I could say that dreams were alive and real.

  And I was living one.

  Reconnection

  “Ilya!” Mistress Alyendra’s luminous face was filled with more joy and emotion than I could remember ever having seen.

  “I did not sense the stilling of your song, but my heart was filled with trepidation nonetheless!”

  I held my head in shame for leaving my teacher in worry for so long. Even though the rune staff had not been whole for long, I still felt that I should have contacted her sooner. There had just been so much going on, so much to see and share, that I had wanted to get to a point where I could tell her everything.

  We had reached the end of one portion of our journey and were now ready to begin another. There was much more to come, so much more to do, but we were in a position to move forward now with some hope of success.

  In response to this guilt, but also urged by excitement and a sense of great accomplishment, words poured out, simple sentences expressing whole worlds of experience. “We made it, Mistress!

  “We are in Noema’jin!

  “I still cannot believe we defeated the vuermua’di, but we did!

  “A pack of demons hunted us afterward, but we managed to fend them off as well.”

  My words jumped from one topic to another, linked together only loosely. “The elementals are hard at work rebuilding their homeland after the demonic invasion but, despite the damage, there is so much that is still filled with the beauty of life’s song.

  “And I have met Lucius’ other wera’dun, Saedeus and Maeraeth. They are in the Angel Sword Loer’allon.

  “We will be taking the sword with us to Kerraboer, Mistress! Other el’amin will join us as well.

  “It is hard to imagine how much our fortunes have changed in just a few short days.”

  Mistress Alyendra waited for me to finish. I had much more to say, and wished I had expressed myself a bit more coherently, but I held my tongue. Otherwise, we would not have a chance to actually converse.

  It was not polite to speak at people.

  Even when brimming with excitement.

  But sometimes it was acceptable.

  Especially when your audience shared your enthusiasm.

  “You must tell me everything, Ilya!

  “What of the land’s song in and around Noema’jin?”

  “The destruction wrought by the demons is deeply felt throughout the lands of the dragons and elementals. More dissonance was visited upon the elementals, for this is where the demons struck hardest and deepest. The valley of Noema’jin is scarred, its notes fractured, but it will reform.

  “Noema’jin is now protected by a heavenly aegis, as is the rest of Uërth. Any more demons that come to Noema’jin will not be able to harm the heart of the elementals’ home.

  “The el’amin are restoring the land’s music even as they root out demonic interlopers.

  “The healing will take much time, but it will be done. I have been adding my song as well to aid in this process.”

  “I am glad to hear it, Ilya. Your voice joined with theirs will do much to aid in the el’amins’ efforts.

  “Is your music abiding?”

  “I am able to cast my song out. Its notes find purchase while it renews and reinforces its harmonic structures. These are the resonan
ces I cast over the land, hoping to aid in its restoration and regrowth.”

  “My heart gladdens with this news, Ilya!

  “What will you do from here? Will you stay in Noema’jin for a while to aid the elementals, or do you have other plans?”

  Although a part of me wished to stay, wanting to bask in the depths and wonders of Noema’jin and Loer’allon, I felt my destiny, whose need called me forward, lay elsewhere. “We will leave for Kerraboer soon, Mistress. I fear there will be more demons between here and there, though it is possible that they have fled farther afield after the Chaos Gate’s fall.

  “If the Empyrean Knights will have me, I still plan to join my Voice with theirs. Perhaps we can craft a choir of Singers and join our Voices in unison to sing of Uërth’s rebirth and renewal.”

  “Your vision does you justice, Ilya. I will do everything in my power to assist in its realization.”

  I knew she would.

  She always did.

  And that was the least of her gifts to me.

  A New Journey Begun

  I awoke with the dawn. My sleep had been so deep that I did not remember my dreams.

  My companions never awoke, for they did not sleep.

  At least insofar as I knew or understood it.

  Lucius merely slowed down.

  I looked around camp. Though there were many rocks around me, none were my rock.

  “Where’s Lucius?”

  Maeraeth replied, “He’s visiting with his brethren, making the most of his time here.”

  His mood upbeat, Saedeus added, “As he should. Every visit here could be his last.”

  I had little to add to that, so, stirring my bowl of porridge, I asked, “Where do you go while I sleep? I mean, within the sword… Are you constantly aware within the confines of the sword?”

  Maeraeth answered simply, “We manifest at need.

  “When not needed, we are not exactly present. At least not as individuals. And as most people understand it. Instead, we merge with the greater unity that is Loer’allon.”