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

by Ryan Attard

  I smirked at him. "You mean the centre? Like a town square?"

  The elf shook his head. "I do not understand. Tall building is named Central."

  "So lemme get this straight. You have a city named Citadel and a giant building in the centre named Central." I let out a laugh. "Didn't go the extra mile in naming them, huh?"

  Legolas just stood there. "I do not understand." Apparently laughter isn't translatable.

  I waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Just remember, we're peas in a pod. Almost the same."

  "Yes."

  "Alright then. How do I get there?" I said pointing at Central.

  The blond Vensir beamed for the first time. "I will take you to our city. You will be welcomed as a guest and as a hero who saved Vensir. You will be celebrated for having killed a Wild. You will be our hero."

  "Cool," I replied. "So I follow you and you shower me with gifts? Just like that?"

  "I do not understand."

  I sighed. There was no way to tell if he was screwing with me or he just didn't understand the language. Either way, someone who's screwing you isn't going to tell you up front that they are screwing you. Racking my brain wasn't going to help me. Better play this out by going along with whatever they had planned. At least I'll be one step closer to finally getting out of here.

  Legolas gave a rapt order and the two dark-haired Vensir began collecting the robot parts. One of them grabbed the unicorn horns and stacked them with the rest of the pile in his arms. I grabbed him as he walked past me.

  "I'll take those back if that's all the same to you," I said. "And that," I added nodding at the arrow that nearly pierced his hand a few minutes ago.

  The Vensir shook visibly and looked nervously at his fair-haired leader, who just nodded. I took my horns and my arrow and we all started walking, me and the leader in front with the two carrying the metal junk at the back.

  "What's that thing?" I asked casually, referring to the scrapped robot.

  "Sentinel. It helps and protects Vensir," Legolas replied. "Every Vensir has one to make life easier. Some Sentinels are also good for protection outside of the Citadel, from Wild or Ulgeki or Trath."

  "Trath?" Then I took a wild guess. "Giant, long creatures with big giant mouths?"

  "Yes. Trath."

  Got it—Trath means Wurm.

  "And that's in Vensir language, right?" I inquired. "Not universal?"

  "You call them differently in English?"

  "Wurms."

  Legolas seemed interested in our zoology banter. "And Ulgeki is unicorn, yes?"

  "You catch on quick."

  "What you call Sentinels?"

  "We don't have them."

  He looked at me quizzically. "No? Then you will have the finest Sentinel in all of Citadel once we arrive."

  "Sweet. I'm getting me a robot."

  The quizzical look remained. "What is robot? And how come it is sweet?"

  I sighed for the hundredth time that day. "Don't worry about it. Just remember the peas."

  Chapter 22

  After two weeks of living in a shack made out of half-rotten tree branches and dead monster hide, I expected the Citadel to be little more than a glorified fort and a couple of tree houses. Now that I stood on the hill with Legolas and his two robot-carrying flunkies, I felt a pang of anger and jealousy at the sight of the Vensir's dwelling place.

  The Citadel's circular outer walls were pristine white, rising fifteen feet from the ground. Buildings had spherical roofs and were spread around in neat patches of igloo-shaped dwellings. They too were white with veins of silver and gold around the edges. Some of the buildings were larger than the rest. One of them, a large busy building that stood solitary from the rest, had a rectangular shape that then sloped into a dome at the top.

  There were Vensir and Sentinels everywhere. Most were tinkering over workbenches, which made me think these people were craftsmen or artisans. Men and women seemed to have the same jobs: hammering spears, sharpening knives, weaving fabrics together, tending the fields at the edge of the city. The whole thing looked like medieval Renaissance fair, but with weirdly-shaped people and the occasional spark of magic.

  Legolas and his group were greeted like heroes of the old returning after slaying the dragon. Of course, their smiles and waving froze awkwardly the moment they saw me. Most of them backed away slowly although the more curious ones just stood still, watching the strange human walk behind their blond hero.

  The second we entered the Citadel, four Sentinels hovered around me, surrounding me. In their robotic hands they held short pikes, and while they didn't point them at me, it was clear that if I pissed anyone off they would gore me.

  "Hey," I called out to Legolas. "A little help here."

  The Vensir gave me an annoyed look, then raised his eyebrow. He said something in his native tongue and the robots backed off, still hovering in formation, but at least their cold hostility was far away from me. Still, I noticed that they weren't so far as to be unable to react if I decided to go berserk.

  "Summon the other High Councilors," ordered the blond Vensir in English. He nodded at me. "We shall pass judgment on our guest."

  Out of all the words in the English language, 'judgment' is one of the worst. It's supposed to be fair and just, but we all know that’s often not the case. For that to happen you need people who aren’t corruptible, and in my book, that’s just not possible. No, in my experience, judgment usually means the underdog gets screwed in a variety of ways, and none of them pleasurable.

  My hand grabbed Djinn's handle. "Judgment?"

  Legolas raised his eyebrows. "Why the hostility?" he asked. "Judgment must be passed on all within the Citadel."

  That raised more questions than it answered. And besides, any place that decrees a phrase like 'judgment will be passed on all' should be avoided at all costs.

  "I'm not staying for any judgment," I said sternly.

  "Perhaps there has been a mistranslation, our dear guest."

  The voice came from a very old Vensir, dressed in cream-and-tan robes like the ones Legolas wore. He wore a cloak of ivory white and leaned on a walking stick. Behind him, a group of elder Vensir followed closely.

  "What's this, the Betty White Elf brigade?" I asked eyeing the new entourage wearily.

  The elder Vensir gently touched Legolas on the arm and nodded. It wasn't a secret handshake type of thing. More along the lines of two acquaintances acknowledging each other.

  "We do not intend to harm or disturb you in any way," said the elder Vensir.

  "That's what they all say," I shot back. "So what sort of judgment are you going to pass? Cos lemme tell you, there ain't a jail cell you can build that's gonna keep me."

  The elder smiled. "Nothing of the sort will happen. We wish to ask you a few questions, if you please."

  My stance relaxed. Questions—yeah, I could do questions. After everything I've been through, questions seemed like a nice change of pace. And yet, it was usually at this stage that I managed to say the wrong thing and fuck up any chance I have of not shooting myself in the foot.

  "First," the elder Vensir asked. "What are you?"

  "I'm human. I'm from a different world," I replied. Then I paused for a moment, just to figure out how to phrase the next part. "In my world we call them planes or dimensions. One cannot simply cross between these planes unless you have a special device. There was… an accident, I guess, and I wound up here. I'm looking for a way out."

  The elder nodded. "We know all about the universe and its many branches. Answer me this next, young human. What do you seek in our lands?”

  Here it comes. The part where I fuck up and spears are drawn. “That,” I replied, pointing at the obelisk in the background. “I can feel magic in there.”

  "Feel magic?" The elder murmured something to the others and whatever he said generated a spark of hushed conversation. Then the old guy turned back to me. "Please explain how you feel magic."

  My eyebrow shot
up. "Okay, I'll bite," I said. "Where I'm from, most people can't use magic, but there are some, like myself, who are born with the ability to manipulate energy, bend physics, cast spells, that sort of thing. You know, magic."

  More murmuring. This was starting to get on my nerves.

  "Why are you wasting time on this?" I retorted. "You guys use magic too. I've seen what your little metal rods and your jewelry can do. And they pack some serious heat," I said, pointing at one of the brown-haired Vensir, who I saw blast the monster with a green-colored spell right in the face.

  "We construct our weapons from materials extracted from Central," Legolas said. "The energy is a result of Central, not ourselves."

  "Well think of it this way," I said. "It's like we have a small Central within us that no one can see or touch but it gives us this energy."

  "Do not say such absurdities." This came from another elder Vensir. "Nothing can wield the power of our God King. To say such things is sacrilege. Do you claim to be a god?"

  Too easy. "Only in bed."

  Their response was to yell at me in their native tongue. See—this is why I don't like old people. They can't take jokes from a smart mouth.

  "Fellow High Councilors," Legolas said, stepping in front of them. "I do not believe in this business of gods and mysticism. However I have seen this human kill a Wild."

  Now everyone in the audience gasped at the mention of the monster.

  "He succeeded where no other Vensir ever has," he continued. "Not even our Sentinel could do anything against the monster and yet, this foreign creature appeared out of nowhere, slew the monster and saved three of your brethren. Saved me, a High Councilor. I have seen his power with my own eyes. I can attest to what he speaks and can confirm its veracity.”

  He turned to me. "Perhaps the human is not a god, but he has proven himself a friend to the Vensir. It is now our duty to repay him in kind by welcoming him to our Citadel."

  The old Vensir, the one who was asking the questions, let out a chuckle. "Indeed, that was a nice speech. You always had a knack," he said, slyly winking at the blond. Then he turned to me.

  "Human," he said. "It is my duty and great pleasure to welcome you to the heart of our Citadel. You will be garbed in our finest weaves, fed our best stock and be welcomed in whichever venue you choose to pass your time. You will live amongst us with the highest comfort we have to offer in return for your heroic comportment with regards to our brethren."

  He looked at the rest of the Vensir behind him and they nodded in consent. Then he surveyed the rest of the elf-looking people and proclaimed,

  "So decrees the High Council of the Vensir. So is our judgment."

  Chapter 23

  It took me a couple of days to wrap my head around how the Vensir lived. I guess my twenty-something years of gorging up on Hollywood movies immediately conjured up images of wild men dancing around the fire.

  The Vensir were nothing like that. Legolas—because there was no way I could pronounce his real name—took it upon himself to give me tours around the Citadel. The damn thing was huge. We walked past dozens of Vensir going about their daily routines. Most of them were artists at heart. War and conflict wasn't part of their agenda and only a select few, like the blond tour guide I had around with me, were trained to handle weapons and venture beyond the walls of the city. If it weren't for the Wild they wouldn't even need to have weapons in the first place.

  At least that's what Legolas kept saying.

  Turns out that saving his life made staying with these guys that much easier. He was part of the High Council, a group of venerated Vensir that led the rest. He told me that each one of the twelve members had something unique to offer. Many were experts in their field and came up with ideas on how to improve the city. Others studied ancient texts and the arcane to better utilize the magic of Central. A few, like Legolas, were more active, and usually in charge of leading exploration expeditions or hunter-gatherer missions. Either way, all decisions were made unanimously, a concept which every human has difficulty grasping. We struggle with uniformity. Even if we completely agree with everyone around us, there is still that something that makes us unique and independent. The Vensir had none of that. To them the individual did not exist. Or at least, wasn't as important as the collective wellbeing of the entire species. That's why it didn't take them long to decide on my judgment.

  All in all it was a definite upgrade from living out in the open. No one spoke any English, at least not without their robot companions translating for them, but they were all friendly. I was forced to surrender my weapons on the spot, which did not go down well with me. I couldn’t use magic without my toys. But then again neither could they. I guess this somehow leveled the playing field. Fighting the Vensir on their own rules wasn't going to lead anywhere good. Might as well play along for now until I got what I wanted and then bailed. The Sentinel that took my weapons was that of the eldest councilor. If push came to shove I could always break into his house. Hopefully it wasn’t going to lead to that but something felt off about these people.

  It all seemed too good to be true.

  The very next day, the tours began and I had my chance to pick Legolas's mind about different facts about the Vensir. He answered all my questions and it was only when I talked about Central that he seemed uncomfortable.

  "No one is allowed to go near Central except for High Council members, and that's only when called upon," he explained.

  "Why?" That was the most common word coming out of my mouth these days.

  "When the God King calls we must answer. But not all can hear his message. That is how the High Council are selected."

  "Have you ever heard this God King?"

  The Vensir gave me a stern look. "I have. But it is very rude and offensive to ask such a question. To ask a High Council member if they have heard the God King is to challenge the very principle of the Citadel and the Vensir."

  In other words, obey the so-called God King or face treason charges. I already hated this King dude.

  "Is what I need to get back home in Central?" I asked.

  That's when the blond turned around, facing me and staring me down. His eyes darted to the two Sentinels hovering close to us.

  "No one is allowed to go to Central unless they are summoned by the God King," he said slowly and stiffly. "What you are saying constitutes treason and normally the Sentinels would have disabled you by now." His expression relaxed by a fraction. "However, you are not from our world and thus had no idea of what you were saying."

  I decided not to challenge him back and get in his face. Instead, I opted to press on with a question that was probably crucial to my busting out of here if shit hit the fan.

  "What do you mean 'disable me'?"

  Legolas waved at the pike-carrying robots hovering stealthily behind us. "We built the Sentinels as the Citadel's protectors. However, they do not serve us individually but rather the God King and Central. If we are of any danger, either to ourselves or to any other Vensir or the Citadel and Central itself, the Sentinels will disable us."

  "You carry around your personal executioners?"

  He shook his head. "No, no. They do not inflict pain or death," he explained. "They merely shut us down until our function is restored for the greater prosperity of the Citadel. Most of the time our Sentinels are vital to our survival and comfort. But some Vensir, especially when past a certain age, tend to lose their focus. The Sentinels help them regain such focus."

  "Holy shit. So what happens if a Vensir completely loses it?" I asked.

  "No Vensir completely loses it."

  "Bullshit."

  He got stern again. "Human, do not make the mistake of associating us with your species. Whilst we have discussed similarities, there are clear differences," he chided. "From what I can gather, your world is rife with distrust and malice. No such thing exists within the Vensir, and so long as Central stands tall and our God King graces us with his blessing, no such thing will ever befall o
n us."

  And that was the end of day one.

  ***

  Day two started off a little better. My guide seemed to have forgotten the conversation we had had the previous day and simply walked off, chatting about the different fauna and flora we encountered. I drifted off after the third unpronounceable name. Who cares about pronunciation anyway? Do you think a monster is going to give a damn if you're saying its name correctly as it eats you?

  My eyes wandered off and settled on a giant building of wood and white stone, taller than any other building in the vicinity and standing proud, like one of those old mansions that rich people live in.

  “Hey yo, Legolas," I called out.

  He turned and cocked his head. "Who is this Legolas you keep referring to? Is it some sort of nickname?"

  "Yeah. I can't pronounce your name so I call you Legolas."

  "What does it mean?"

  "It doesn't mean anything," I replied. "It's the name of a fictional character from my world that happens to resemble you a lot."

  "Curious," he replied. "I would very much like to meet him some day."

  “I’ll get you a Netflix subscription.” Then I pointed at the building. "So what's that?"

  The Vensir nodded at one of the two Sentinels standing by the door. "This was to be one of our stops later on. Do you wish to visit?"

  I nodded. "What is it?"

  "It's our library," Legolas replied as we walked in. Our own Sentinels, who hovered silently behind us, flew off to the side and stood quietly by the door, next to a row of robots.

  "No weapons or Sentinels are allowed within the library. We keep all our archives here and should a malfunction occur, the damage would be too great," he explained.

  The place was beautiful. I'm not a library kind of guy. Sure, I do enjoy the occasional novel if I'm not passed out from exhaustion but I can't stand regular libraries—it's the silence. That's just too unnerving.

  We passed rows of shelves but none had actual books. Instead, they contained large holographic plates and tiles, that smaller, leaner versions of the Sentinel robots carried around. These were darker in color than the regular ones, with a narrower frame and two spindly legs carrying them instead of floating in the air like the ones outside. They picked up the discs with pincer-like hands and carried them to cubicles and workstations. There were hundreds of these cubicles, each emitting a faint glow of light as the Vensir sitting down at the table would place the holographic plate inside the table itself and place their hands over the top. A keyboard of sorts would emerge—a spherical contraption that looked semi-solid, like a hologram, with buttons placed all over the surface. Keys and switches were not just laid horizontally and vertically but were also layered and tiered into the sphere. It was clearly designed for the Vensir's long multi-fingered hands and slow, intricate movements.