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

by Ryan Attard

  A guard jumped in front of me and aimed two taser pistols. I heard a little pop. Four coils of electricity shot forwards, their barbs penetrating my skin. Volts of electricity went through me. The guard channeled his magic, and the coils glowed like a light bulb as the voltage increased. My body was paralyzed and my mind numb with pain.

  “Pin it down.”

  Stakes of iron tore through my arms and legs like medieval torture devices. Each spike was attached to a thin silver chain, one to each a soldier. They poured their magic in and I immediately felt the spell take effect. A poison spread through me, clouding my mind and paralyzing my body. I couldn’t move, much less fight.

  But this spell was for monsters. I was much, much more.

  My power called upon the forest, and the forest responded. Now that my body was paralyzed, the forest became my limbs.

  From beneath us, roots, black as night, burst out, hitting and strangling all of the guards. They dragged the men under to be crushed by the land. Others were pulled into the raging forest fire to be roasted alive. Some were speared through, while others were strangled or pulled apart.

  As soon as I regained control over my body, I extracted the iron spikes.

  I felt him rather than saw him—a gust of wind and a malicious thought. Djinn elongated into a broadsword of azure light and I brought it down.

  Mephisto appeared, blocking my sword with the palms of his hands. His claws had shredded through the glove fabric and would have been raking across my throat if I hadn’t blocked his strike.

  “Master Erik,” he said as we both strained and pushed against each other.

  “Dog,” I replied. A final burst of energy and we both went flying away from each other.

  “Erik!”

  Gil stood tall and proud in a tan suit with a white overcoat draped around her like a cape. Old-school Warlocks used to wear them to symbolize their authority.

  “Protect the boss!” Soldiers surrounded her.

  “Stand down,” she barked and they tensed at her side.

  “What is the meaning of this, Erik?” she spat. “Why have you returned?”

  “Crowley,” I snarled. “Where is he?”

  “How the hell should I know? Last I heard he was chasing you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Screw you, Erik,” she screamed. “Why would you think I had any contact with that bastard?”

  “Because you’re still alive!” My throat burned, but I kept screaming at my sister. “Because he told me that I had to run away to keep you from danger,” I said pointing at Mephisto. “But Crowley could have just come after you to lure me out. Which means someone lied to me.”

  “Someone needed to step up to the position of Head of Household,” Mephisto said. “You were not going to do it, Erik, so a worthier substitute had to be found.”

  My blood boiled as he said that. There it was, that feeling of being duped and played. This was why he wanted me away from Gil, to make her assume the mantle and influence her.

  “Stand down, Erik,” Gil said before I could take a single step.

  “He’s a liar and a manipulator,” I replied.

  “He is also the only one who was here to help me rebuild what you destroyed. He told me how you ran off, how you became a monster. He told me how much you hate our Warlock heritage.” She paused. “As much as I hated our father, I am a Warlock too. Do you hate me as well, Erik? Is that why you ran away? Do you hate who you are so much that you couldn’t bear it any longer?”

  That hurt.

  Mephisto was afraid I had become a monster and, to be honest, I don’t know what to believe anymore. I liked to think Tenzin fostered some good in me, but all I did today was destroy and murder.

  No, I was a good person. This was Mephisto we’re talking about. I had to question every single word he said.

  “And now you show up again, destroying all of my hard work,” Gil continued. “Are you happy now? Do you want to kill me, too? Have you really become a monster?”

  A cold sensation washed over me. Gil, the one person whom I thought would always be my ally, had left me forever.

  Now I knew. We were complete strangers to each other.

  I would have loved to scream out how much I had suffered and lost, but at that moment, I was too numb to feel anything.

  “Crowley,” I said. “I want him. Now.” I raised Djinn, ready to attack. “You can either give him to me, or I swear to God, I will tear this place apart until I find him.”

  Mephisto chuckled and took a step forward. “Do you really think you can defeat me, Master Erik?”

  I pointed Djinn at him. “Even as powerful as I am right now, I’m not sure. But I sure as hell can take you down with me.”

  Mephisto halted and his eyes narrowed. We began a staring contest, each glaring into the other’s eyes.

  “Enough,” Gil said. She took a deep breath. “I have archived all of father’s journals and contacts. That was one of the steps I took in order to start the Ashendale business from scratch. But as Head of Household, I can look at them again. There may be a contact number.”

  I lowered my weapon. “Good. When you find him, give him this message: tomorrow, high noon. Sawtooth Mountain. And tell him to get his affairs in order.”

  I turned to leave and walked directly into the forest fire. A normal wizard would have just used the cover of night to run away undetected. But out of principle, I knew my sister wouldn’t stab me in the back.

  Still, I felt a show of power was necessary.

  As I walked, I extended my left hand and tapped into the connection I felt with the forest. The fire still had a portion of my power in it and I called it back. With a loud whoosh, the flames formed a vortex and I sucked them into me. All that power was transferred back to its original state—massive shadows writhed around me before receding.

  The effect only lasted for a second but she could feel the massive torrent of power, and I could sense her fear and awe. I could feel it as her brain came to a simple conclusion—I was far more powerful than anything she’d ever encountered and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do to stop me.

  Chapter 41

  Sawtooth Mountain wasn’t the tallest peak in the Trinity Alps. I mean, eight thousand feet are nothing to scoff at, but hikers and mountaineers often ventured it.

  I remembered when Gil and I used to climb it, a process that took hours and did wonders for our stamina.

  The reason I chose it was a small bed of snow a few hundred feet from the peak. There was absolutely nothing there—no trees, no rocks or animals. Just snow, ice and emptiness; a true open ground. And that was exactly where I wanted to meet Crowley. No more hiding and no more subterfuge—this was a showdown between two wizards, and the loser would pay with his life.

  After the fight at the mansion, I made my way to the peak. My body moved on its own, not stopping for rest or food. It was as though the connection between the magic running through the forest and the magic within me was enough to sustain me. It gave me power, it gave me purpose. I had become something in between a man and a beast, something I did not understand. But this was the power I needed, so I did not resist it.

  Hours went by, and it didn’t matter. I remember the sensation of running through the forest. My legs knew exactly where to step. My body angled itself perfectly to avoid rocks and branches. What’s more, it seemed that the forest accommodated the wizard blazing through it. Winds blew leaves and vines from my path. Wildlife, even territorial ones, merely watched as I bolted through. Rocks and snow did not give way under my weight, and before I knew it I was at my destination. All that was left to do now was to wait.

  Crowley would be here, of that I could be sure. I had offered myself on a silver platter. A wide-open area in the middle of nowhere where help of any kind was hours away. To him, I was a mutated wizard—take away my toys and I couldn’t even light a candle. I was nothing but a helpless piece of meat, ripe for the picking.

  So, I sat on the snow, cr
ossed my legs and placed my short sword flat on my lap. I closed my eyes and began muttering a chant. Tenzin and I often meditated like this during our time together. Memories and the pain of loss threatened to surface, but my newfound power wouldn’t let them. It was like my connection with the forest had built a barrier—after all, it could not feel loss.

  All it felt was anger, and yet, at the same time, peace. It was awe-inducing and terrifying, a sensation that no human could grasp. Primal rage and inner peace amplified by a thousand-fold to a level where a person would just go insane. Raw emotion that would break down even the strongest of minds.

  And it all coursed through me.

  Even in my trance, I heard the helicopter approaching. The chopper hovered on the opposite side of the field. White mist flew from the snow. A ladder dangled from the helicopter, and Crowley descended. His feet touched the snow, and he waved at the pilot.

  He looked as sharp as usual. A silver-gray suit with a black, silk shirt, expensive Italian loafers and that ridiculous gray fedora he always wore. He didn’t wear his gloves this time—I suppose there was no real need to hide his gray-blue skin. He had a pair of aviators on and his usual smile. Even against the reflective white snow, his pearly white teeth were clearly visible.

  He walked away from underneath the chopper holding his hat in place with his hand. I got up and walked toward him, slowly. We both took our time, preparing ourselves for the confrontation to come.

  “Is that your ride back home?” I asked. Crowley nodded. He pursed his lips and stretched them into a smile.

  The forest felt the intruders within it. One was immune to magic, decaying it before it could reach him. A second man was inside the chopper, but not out of reach. He was evil too but to a different degree than the man below. His magic was also weaker in comparison to the other.

  The forest wanted to punish these two.

  Winds picked up, assaulting the chopper. I sensed the pilot’s panic as he experienced a malfunction and his aircraft spiraled downwards. It crashed against a nearby peak, exploding in a small fireball.

  Crowley let out a low whistle.

  “In case the point wasn’t driven home,” I said as I assumed a fighting stance, “you’re not going back. This icy mountain will be your grave.”

  Crowley removed his aviator shades. He calmly folded them and put them in his breast pocket in front of a folded handkerchief. “That’s an awful thing to say, little boy. You owe me a chopper, by the way.”

  He splayed his hands. I felt the magic around him wither and die as his area of affect extended further and further.

  “Bill me,” I replied. A streak of energy shot at Crowley as I flicked Djinn upward. I slashed downward, sending a second streak on top of the first. Crowley’s eyes narrowed. The azure energy withered into nothing before it could as much as knock his hat off.

  But it didn’t matter.

  Djinn’s elongated blade dug into the snow and I flicked it upwards into his face. The snow was not affected by his magic, and he let out a string of curses as it went directly into his beady eyes. I lunged, stabbing an enhanced Djinn into his gut. Its magic dissipated on contact with Crowley, and the blade receded. But he couldn’t affect the sharpness of the original blade, and even as its magic decayed, it reverted back to its original size and went a good three inches inside him.

  He bent forwards and grabbed the blade. I balled my left fist and delivered an uppercut into his throat as I pulled the sword out.

  “That one’s for Gil,” I spat at him.

  My leg snapped into a low roundhouse kick. I heard his knee crack, and he dropped on it. I kept my momentum, raised my right hand and smashed the pommel of my sword against his jaw. Something cracked. Best of all, the stupid hat sailed away, revealing bald spots and burned patches of hair, courtesy of Tenzin.

  “This one’s for my mom.”

  I kicked his face and his head snapped backwards. It would have been a lethal blow, but he allowed himself to be thrown back, dissipating the force, and placing him at a safe distance from me. I felt magic dying all around him.

  He got to his feet. Parts of his body cracked as some form of healing took place.

  “I wasn’t exactly tellin’ you the truth about my magic,” he said as we both panted. “I decay magic. But the question no one asks is ‘and then what’?”

  “The hell are you talking about?” I said.

  “It’s really simple.” More body parts healed, but he was still walking with a limp. “What you see around you ain’t true magic. Fire, ice, energy, glowing statues—these are all effects. By ‘decay’ I meant ‘strip away all the effects’ and return magic back to its original form. My teacher called it Prime. It’s the fuel of magic, you see, the unlimited potential. That’s what we Abjurers do. We play around with the Prime and shape it like putty. And the thing is, everybody’s got Prime in ‘em. What you might call a Core or a Spark. It’s the same stuff. It’s what holds the universe together.”

  He straightened up. “So, you see, I’m damn near invincible. Whatever you do, I can decay and absorb the Prime to heal. Face it, Erik,” he said, licking his lips, “you’re my bitch.”

  “Absorb this.”

  I lunged. Crowley sidestepped, too quick for someone who was limping, and latched onto me.

  “I intend to.”

  I felt my body go numb, and my magic dying within me. My head spun.

  “I intend to decay every last morsel of you and suck out all that Prime. You really have no idea just how much you have,” I heard Crowley snarl. “It’s wasted on you. Now, give it to me, it’s all mine.”

  My soul ripped apart as his magic killed mine and left a husk.

  A voice reverberated inside my head, drowning out Crowley’s voice.

  Power. More power.

  I felt my connection to the forest deepen, opening up a vast reservoir of magic. When I opened my eyes, it was as if someone had taken a picture of the red desert and the snowy mountain, and overlaid them. Suddenly, I was torn between two worlds, and both were feeding me power.

  Not just any power—this was the nectar that Crowley wanted. Core magic, or Prime, flowed through me and darkness rose.

  “What… what the hell is this?” Crowley relinquished his grip on me. His magic ceased working. He was just one man, after all.

  I was the forest—no, I was the world.

  That wasn’t it either.

  I was a vast universe of power, and I had one intention: destroy Crowley.

  Tendrils of darkness stabbed through him. It was not a physical attack—I attacked his magic, his Prime, turning it against him. And in that moment of agony, I felt connected to him. Not quite reading his mind, but rather feeling what he felt.

  I felt his fear when he faced Tenzin and Senju Kannon, soon followed by the pleasure he took in decaying that powerful magic.

  I could feel his confusion and doubts at this very moment—there had never been a magic he couldn’t affect. He had sacrificed everything else to learn his obscure branch of Abjuration. He gave it all up to become one with his magic so that nothing could harm him.

  His magic had always worked—so, what was different now?

  I saw his mind go through hundreds of possibilities and finally settle to a logical conclusion. His magic was still the same, he realized. It was that he met a monster whose power was light-years ahead of his. A brat who held the power to reshape the world. Crowley’s insignificance couldn’t even begin to register against such power.

  My own reasoning, my consciousness—the parts that made me Erik—resurfaced from a dark corner.

  Avenge Tenzin.

  Kill Crowley.

  Those were my thoughts. Memories of my life with Tenzin and Gil. Memories of peace and happiness.

  “And this one,” I said, throwing Crowley way from me. “This one is for Tenzin.”

  I let my power extend to the sky, and thunderclouds gathered. Djinn glowed furiously. I brought it up and slashed down, cutting in be
tween Yin and Yang, positive and negative, and generated energy between them.

  The energy manifested into electricity, bright white-blue bolts that raced towards the clouds.

  I could not summon the dragon deva. Heck, I wasn’t even sure what ‘deva’ really meant.

  But I could sure as hell recreate the effect of one.

  Lightning gathered around me until my ears rang and my skin went numb. I held Djinn like a javelin, and threw it high into the clouds. Lightning followed it, surrounding the blade like a furious sun.

  My magic was still connected to it, guiding and shaping it.

  The lightning morphed into a Chinese dragon with Djinn at the tip of its snout. It roared and thunder rumbled, shaking the mountain.

  It shot from the heavens, straight into the man cowering in the snow as he stood in awe, watching his demise descend from the sky. The dragon crashed into Crowley and exploded. Light and heat filled my field of vision. The ice on the mountain’s peak fell and evaporated, exposing a large patch of rock.

  That last spell had done it for me. The magic, the super-powered energy that came from the forest and the weird red desert, dissipated into nothing. My knees buckled as the torrent of power left my body, leaving behind a profoundly damaged Erik. I could barely blink—even that hurt.

  The ice mist settled down, revealing the aftermath of my spell. Crowley was impaled by Djinn. The short sword pinned him to the ground, and occasionally, a small bolt of electricity would spark from it.

  Ignoring the pains and aches of my body, I walked towards him.

  A hole gaped where his chest should have been. The only parts left intact were his head, a foot and both hands. The rest was a disgusting mixture of black goo and ash.

  The pendant that Tenzin had given me hung from the sword’s circular hand guard. I had fastened it there before my visit to the Ashendale mansion. It was a miracle that little trinket had survived. Then again, it did contain some powerful magic, even if just a tiny fraction.

  Crowley’s eyes still shifted from side to side. I wasn’t worried—I could sense his imminent death.