Legacy First Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3 of the Legacy Series

by Ryan Attard

  “What was up with that guy anyway?” I asked.

  Sun Tzu flashed me an innocent smile. “Some things are better left to their own devices.”

  Eddie cleared his throat. “We’re good to go. Everything’s A-okay. All that’s left is for you to break the seal.”

  Sun Tzu quietly hobbled over to the segmented wall and once more put his hand on the center. The square circumferences receded into his palm and then spread out until a large circle of light glowed intensely in the middle of the wall. The stone within the circle wavered and rippled wildly.

  Just like a portal, I thought.

  From it, a large circular object, six times the height of Sun Tzu, came out one inch at a time. Once it settled on the ground with a resounding boom, I quickly realized it was a cauldron—the mother of all cauldrons—with a large lid on the top. All around it were chains, like the kind that ships use for their anchors, each link about as thick as my wrist and as wide as my palm. The ends conjoined to a locket in the middle—a neat, elliptical chunk of metal with a glass front. Inside, I could see fire more intense than I’ve ever conjured. It burned a bright white, its luminosity making it painful to look at directly.

  “All that is left now is to wait for Phoenix to open the lock,” Sun Tzu said as he patted one of the chains.

  From behind me, I felt an intense heat, as if someone had set off a small open fire and immediately doused it.

  “I’m here,” I heard as I tried not to jump away in fright.

  Behind me, another of the four Chinese men I saw upstairs appeared, this one with a beak-shaped nose, piercing black eyes and slicked-back hair the color of ash. He had his arms tucked into the opposite sleeve of his uniform. When he exhaled, a small burst of ash was sent into the atmosphere. He wore a uniform of bright crimson, reflecting the light from the consoles and on the wall. Phoenix—at least that’s who I assumed he was—cocked his head sharply to one side like a bird, and smiled at me in a way that made my skin crawl.

  “Man, you are one creepy dude,” I remarked. It was probably not a good idea to mess with these people, whatever they were, but I couldn’t help it. I tended to lash out when I was scared, confused and creeped-out. Phoenix simply ignored me and calmly walked over to Sun Tzu.

  “Are you sure about this?” His voice was raspy as if his throat had been formed right. “Tiger is not happy about releasing it. Of course, Dragon was quite amused.”

  Sun Tzu sighed. “Are they bickering again?”

  Phoenix let out a shrill, high-pitched laughed that sounded like glass shattering. “Ha. No. Turtle is keeping them busy with the game.”

  “That’s good. Turtle was always the peaceful one,” Sun Tzu said. He looked at me and gave me a nod. “We must attend to matters at hand, Phoenix. It was my decision to release it.”

  Phoenix bowed sharply with just his neck. That guy must have vertebrae like bubble gum. “I understand. I shall, however, keep watch, since I am the only being capable of generating the Sealing Flame.”

  He turned and placed both his hands on the locket. Slowly, he pulled himself towards it until his lips touched the glass, and exhaled loudly. It felt as if a volcano went off. For a few seconds I couldn’t breathe, my throat too dry to swallow.

  And then, it was over.

  Sun Tzu stood there, clearly unaffected by whatever Phoenix had done. The latter backed away and stood quietly in a corner. Sun Tzu gave Abi and me an apologetic look.

  “Some things are better left to their own devices, huh?” I said. The old Chinese man simply gave me a slight bow.

  “Abigail, please come over here,” Sun Tzu said. “Erik, you and I must go upstairs and leave Abigail in the hands of Phoenix and Eddie. I assure you, she will be completely safe.” He spread his arms and the light circle vanished. From his body, he emitted an intense, bright light, enveloping the entirety of the basement.

  “This area is now an extension of my own body. I shall be able to leave this place, but at the same time still have a presence here,” he said.

  “What is this thing?” I asked. “I mean, whatever it is has that guy over there feeling all cautious.” I pointed at Phoenix.

  “You shall see. It’s about to come out,” Sun Tzu replied.

  It started with the loud clanking of chains. They receded into the cauldron, and the lid dissolved into nothingness. A loud roar burst out as hot air met the cool atmosphere. And then came the shrieking. A dark figure, about the size of a man, shot out from the caldron and into plain view, shrieking all the way.

  “Erik, Abigail, Amaymon, meet the Monkey King, Sun Wo Kung,” Sun Tzu introduced.

  The shape took a man’s form, dressed in spotted leopard skin and random chunks of armor. In his hands he spun a golden staff, twirling it around his body using his hands, feet and tail. As he stood, I noticed he had hands instead of feet and the distinctive simian face, as well as pale, golden fur. He began pacing around, spinning in circles and around his staff.

  “WhereamI, whereamI?”

  He spoke in a fast-paced manner, in short bursts of breath, as if he had spent his entire life drinking coffee. He set his eyes on Abi and dashed over to her before she could even so much as flinch.

  “Youyesyou. Shallweplayagame, shallweshallwe?” He literally jumped on her chair, grasping the armrests with his feet—hands, whatever—and crouched down on her. He pressed his face against hers, huffing out breaths. Acting on instinct, I unsheathed Djinn and swung the blade toward the strange beast. Metal met metal as the Monkey King stopped my strike with the staff he held in his tail.

  “Someone needs a chill pill,” I said.

  Sun Wo Kung looked at me sharply, stuck his tongue out and blew, covering me in spit. He pointed a finger at me and screeched “Ugly!” before he returned to huffing in Abi’s face.

  “Son of a bitch,” Amaymon said as he burst out laughing. “I like this guy already.”

  The Monkey King jumped off of Abi, doing a wide backflip. He pointed at the cat. “Kitty. Kittymakesgooddinner. Wanttoeatkitty, wanttoeatkitty.”

  Amaymon stopped laughing at that and hissed loudly. Sun Wo Kung ignored him as he noticed Phoenix and stopped vibrating on the spot.

  “Birdie. Birdieisasshole,” he said in a low voice. “Idon’tlikebirdie. Birdiegivesmeburns.”

  “And I shall give you some more if you cease to behave adequately,” Phoenix coldly replied.

  But Sun Wo Kung had already moved on to Sun Tzu and wrapped his arm around him. “IlikeyouFangy. Fangymademefreeagain. Butthesepeopledon’tknowwhatFangyisright? Don’tyouworry. MonkeywillkeepFangy’ssecrettohimself.”

  “And I greatly appreciate that,” Sun Tzu said as he patted him on the head. Only then did I notice a golden circlet around Sun Wo Kung’s head.

  “I shall leave you to play a game with Abigail. And if you lose, you will have to do what she says. You will have to be her friend,” Sun Tzu continued.

  “Yes. Yesyesyes.”

  Sun Tzu’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he smiled at the monkey man before turning to my apprentice. “Abigail, he’s all yours. Do be careful. His nature is that of a trickster.”

  “Yeah, one who needs decaf,” I replied, smirking at my own joke.

  “That was weak, Erik. Not half as funny as him calling you ugly,” Amaymon shot back.

  “Can it, kitty. Or shall I leave you here for him, in case he needs a snack?”

  “Sore loser.”

  I turned to Abi, who had gotten up and removed all those wires and pads. “Sure you’re ready for this?”

  She gave the Monkey King a hard look. “Yes. I’ve trained for it. Besides, I have a feeling Sun Tzu wouldn’t let me take him on if he didn’t trust me.”

  “Indeed,” Sun Tzu said. “We must vacate the room so that Abigail may begin. I wish you luck, my dear. Erik, Amaymon, I believe a proper cup of tea and a chat is in order.” And with that, he walked toward the entrance.

  “Good luck,” I said as I raised my fist.

  She bu
mped hers with mine. “You, too.”

  Chapter 11

  We sat down at a table. Sun Tzu provided a bowl of noodles and those rice crackers dipped in oil that everyone loves. I tried hard not to stare too much at the other table, where Long and Tiger were slapping mahjong tiles as they exchanged dirty looks with one another. A portly Chinese man built like a barrel with a shaved head, bushy eyebrows and a forest-green Chinese suit, sat between them and faced me directly. He caught me staring at them and waved enthusiastically, smiling like a dental commercial. It wasn’t even a fake smile—the man seemed genuinely jolly.

  So this was Turtle, I presumed.

  Sun Tzu sat down, interrupting my awkward nonverbal introduction to Turtle, and settled two whiskey glasses in front of us. He uncapped a whiskey bottle, filled the glasses, and swallowed the amber liquid from his glass.

  “I thought Asians were supposed to drink sake,” I said as I noticed the American label on the bottle. I took a sip, letting the booze burn through my throat and settle in my stomach in a warm, familiar sensation.

  Sun Tzu let out a small burst of laughter. “Sake is the Japanese name for rice wine. And no, I prefer something different. When it comes to alcohol and firearms, nothing beats American.”

  I nodded, raised my glass, and met his in midair.

  “Do I get some, too?” Amaymon’s voice was muffled, with noodles wrapped around his whiskers.

  “No. Last thing I need is a drunk version of you,” I replied.

  “Just for that I’m eating all the noodles.”

  “You would have eaten them anyway.”

  “True.”

  I snatched a rice cracker and munched on it. It was not a good idea to drink on an empty stomach, and considering I hadn’t had a proper meal since the previous day, I tried to fill up so that I wouldn’t make too much a fool of myself.

  “You said you wanted to talk?” I said to Sun Tzu.

  He set down his glass and refilled it, his storm-gray eyes never leaving mine. “Yes. I wanted to discuss that strange ability you used downstairs.”

  “Look, Sun Tzu, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hit you, I just panicked. From where I was standing it looked like you were killing her or something,” I said.

  Sun Tzu raised his hand. “It’s fine. I completely understand. It is only natural to want to protect those you love. I would be a fool to hold that against you.”

  I nearly choked on my whiskey. “Love? Nah, she’s just my apprentice.”

  “And that is a form of love, my dear friend. Now, why don’t you tell me all about your ability?” he asked.

  “There’s not much to explain,” I replied. “Amaymon did tell you all about Lust, right?” He nodded. “Well, that’s it really. When she killed me, I got sent to another dimension or something and saw this huge black tree. There was some strange creature there, never saw anything like it.”

  “You were sent to Ashura. It’s a small plane, very close to ours. The Ashendales razed it clean of all life, back in the day,” Amaymon said. “What you saw was most likely a manifestation of your soul. But I don’t know why Ashura specifically, or why you are the only one who can go there when it’s off limits to everyone else. It doesn’t even register on the maps, so to speak.”

  “Why do you say a manifestation of the soul?” Sun Tzu asked.

  “I see that damn tree every time I access my power,” I replied. “It’s like I get pulled there but I never really leave.” I took another swig of booze, hoping that the alcohol intake could make sense out of that last sentence.

  It didn’t.

  “It seems that something is pulling at your soul, and using this power of yours is triggering it,” Sun Tzu said.

  “Why can’t it just pick up a phone and say it outright?” I grumbled. Sun Tzu didn’t answer, but poured me another glass. The way this conversation was heading, I was going to need a designated driver by the time I left.

  “What are the specifics of this power?” Sun Tzu asked.

  “Shadows, it seems. Black stuff. Reinforces matter and transmutes it on a whim. As far as I can tell, it’s some form of armor.”

  Amaymon looked at me. “You’re kidding, right? That’s the best you could come up with?” He shook his head, throwing noodles everywhere. “It’s obvious that those ‘shadows’ are energy, the purest kind. They respond to your most basic instincts and constantly evolve with the user.”

  Sun Tzu directed his next question to the cat. “Do you have any idea as to the type of energy it is?”

  “Life magic.”

  Sun Tzu raised his eyebrows. “Life Magic? Impossible. That is the earliest magic in the universe, the power to create and change life itself. It is the power of the gods, not mankind.”

  “You explain this situation, then,” Amaymon challenged. “When an asmodaii gave this idiot a hole the size of a plate in his chest, an archangel grabbed a fistful of anima particles and shoved them inside him. And then, lo and behold, the idiot walks right back up as if nothing had happened. I’m telling you, that’s Life magic. I don’t know how but that’s the only logical explanation I got.”

  “Magic like that does not suddenly appear,” Sun Tzu said. “Surely there must have been other incidents.”

  Amaymon turned his head towards me. “Erik?”

  “I don’t remember any,” I said.

  “Let us be the judge of that,” replied the cat.

  “What are you talking about, kitty?”

  Amaymon let out a soft hiss. “I’ve been dying to hear your full story. I wanna know what happened from the moment you first used magic, to how the curse manifested. I’m sure there’s a hint there somewhere. Gramps is right. This kinda power is usually the first to show. So spill.”

  I gave the cat a dirty look. “You remember our deal when I first got you? No questions asked. Especially about my past. I had a horrible childhood. I repressed most of it, and I’m not about to open that can of worms again.”

  Sun Tzu cleared his throat, gaining my attention. “But, my friend, there will be a time when you will wish you had dealt with it. Your past may contain clues as to how to better control this new manifestation. And if not for yourself, you owe it to the world to use this power against the enemies who wish to destroy it. You owe it to Abigail.”

  Good one, old man. Play the guilt card.

  Heaviness settled on my chest, and even after two refills it wouldn’t go away. Damn Chinese and their philosophies. Leave it to the cat and the mentor to lay a guilt trip on me. And using Abi, the person I wanted to protect the most, as leverage. Was I that transparent to the world?

  I crossed my arms, pouting. “Fine. But even if I wanted to get psychoanalyzed, I still don’t remember much. It’s called a repressed memory for a reason.”

  Sun Tzu calmly reached out and tapped my arm in encouragement. “It’s okay, my friend. I’m sure that once you start, your memory won’t fail you.”

  I immediately felt a small wave of power wash over me, and a thousand soothing voices reassured me that life was fine and all the worries I had were for nothing. I felt my mind at ease as if I’d taken the most powerful narcotic in the world. I wasn’t sure whether I was mentally floating or actually levitating on the chair in reality. I still wasn’t sure what he did to me, but strangely enough, I didn’t complain or fight back. I trusted Sun Tzu, and he had yet to give me a reason to doubt him. And besides, if there was any danger, I’m sure my old buddy, the black tree, would flash in front of my eyes once more and ruin my day. Perhaps not fighting back was part of the spell or perhaps I was overthinking it. Either way, I didn’t care. If this spell helped me remember, it was all well and good. If anything, I would get a few hours of mental peace.

  “So, where shall I start?” My voice was quiet and relaxed, almost serene.

  “Well, why don’t you start where all stories do?” Sun Tzu said. “The beginning.”

  Chapter 12

  Approximately 13 years ago

 
It all started with an eleven-year-old being thrown into a puddle of mud.

  Me.

  “That’ll teach you to break my bike.” The voice belonged to one of three schoolchildren with scraped knuckles and dim looks. I forced myself up again, trying to ignore the throbbing pain on the side of my head. My sister, Gil, gasped from behind me and started crying. The three of them clenched their teeth in rage. If there was one thing bullies hated, it was when someone stood up to them. It especially hurt when it was a little wimp like myself.

  This started when one of them shouldered me into the bike rack. I upturned a couple of bikes and used one of them as a crutch to get back up again. There was a tingling inside my chest, like lightning coursing through me. It felt warm and fuzzy, so I assumed it was due to the smack on the head I had gotten from a bike handlebar.

  But the bike I grabbed began smelling funny and felt like dust inside my palm. Looking down, I saw the skeletal structure of the bike crack and flake off. The unmistakable color of rust spread from where I clutched it, slowly spreading all over the structure. I let go of the bike, looking at my hands. They looked no different except for the stains. The bike lay in a complete mess. Rust spread through it like a plague, literally dissolving it into stinky, brown flakes. Soon, what was left of the bike looked like a remnant from a nuclear winter.

  The boys’ stunned looks soon turned sour and the beating began. I felt strangely spent after I had gotten up, but I chalked that up to getting thrown onto a bike rack. They punched and kicked me, throwing me around like a football. I soon found myself thrown to the side again, this time into a puddle of blackened water and mud. I got up again, my frustration and anger giving me strength. I mean, I had done nothing wrong to begin with. They shoved me inside the bike rack. And I had no idea where all that rust had come from. It was probably the owner’s fault for not taking proper care of that bike. Why was I taking the beating? I saw my sister, with whom I was supposed to wait quietly until our ride got here, crying and covering her eyes. Gil had probably never seen a fight before. She lived in that innocent world every privileged eleven-year-old inhabited.