The Hero of Legend

by Demethius Jackson

  Maebus paused, clenching his jaw. Anger flared deep in his belly. “Also, for myself, I want to see the face of this Warlord Damian.”

  A disturbance in the distance drew their attention to the western horizon. Barely noticeable at first, it grew within seconds to a steady vibration, intensifying to a tremor. Khroy’s and Maebus’ horses were startled, pawing the ground and whickering. The ranks of soldiers wobbled as the ground shook beneath their feet.

  “Hold your positions!” Khroy shouted.

  Maebus strapped on his war helmet and unsheathed his battle sword. An image of

  Councilwoman Landi flashed in his mind; her kind eyes and tender smile. He realized that during the previous night’s preparations, he’d not had a chance to say good-bye. He now may never.

  Breathing deeply to steady his nerves, Maebus gripped his sword tightly. There was no doubt in his mind. The storm he’d witness brewing in the distant lands of the Realm was now here.

  Several miles out, a dark mass appeared across the land. It slowly spread over the mountains, blanketing them. Likewise, the tremors transitioned into a solid quake. As the enormous mass approached, it engulfed the land like black lava flowing from an eruption, consuming everything within its reach.

  “What magic is this?” Khroy asked, barely maintaining control of his horse.

  “This is not magic!” Maebus replied. He pointed towards the shadowy mass, growing larger, coming closer.

  Within the black mass, Maebus recognized the outline of a face and then another. Through the dust cloud heading towards them, he began seeing full bodily figures. Maebus couldn’t believe his eyes. This flood was human!

  Thousands upon thousands of warriors were sprinting full speed towards them. The force of their footfalls shook the earth. Damian’s Legion was here. Their presence darkened the kingdom like the shadowy blanket of night.

  The warmth of the sunlight slowly dissolved from Maebus’ face as the mass plumed heavy dust clouds into the sky. His heart rate accelerated in time to a rising fear. The kingdom would surely drown in the vastness of this marauding army. For years he’d studied combat, had mastered weapons and had known the experiences of many soldiers, but nothing prepared him for this moment—the timelessness before war.

  Maebus gathered his nerves. “No matter what happens, Khroy, I need you to trust me,” he said.

  Despite the trembling ground, the Realmsic Army stood strong. Each soldier maintained his stance, fearless and ever ready for inevitable blood. As the distance between the Realmsic Army and the Legion diminished, Maebus realized it was now or never. He raised his sword high into the sky. The blade glinted in the little remaining sunlight.

  “Commander!” he shouted. “Give the order.”

  The word bellowed from Khroy, “Attack!”

  Like lightning, the Realmsic Army’s infantry and cavalry sprinted and galloped from their positions, weapons drawn. Man and horse ran at top speed. Maebus squeezed his thighs against Nightly, galloping as fast as the steed would carry him. He felt the heat of the mighty stallion beneath him. The wind whistled through his helmet as the clanging of metal and the stomping of hooves filled his ears. The wall of Legionaries drew closer.

  Kicking the sides of his horse, he leapt into the air, hurdling the heads of the first Legionarie rank. Briefly, while airborne, he saw the entirety of their force. Their numbers, he feared, were endless. Landing within their midst, he immediately swung wildly with his sword. He felt the percussion of the first Realmsic soldiers crashing into Damian’s Legion.

  Chaos ensued as both sides shouted, shrieked, and fought. Sparks flew as swords clanged together. Sparks from the Legionaries’ swords pulsed and flickered in every direction Maebus could see. The sparking lights seemed otherworldly and fearsome. Maebus could only imagine that they had doused their weapons in a flammable substance that ignited when slammed against metal. Maebus realized he was in trouble, and he’d lost Khroy in the confusion.

  • • • • •

  Commander Khroy was barely able to keep up with Maebus during the battle’s commencement. But through the mayhem, he managed to keep him in sight. He tried desperately to fight his way towards King Maebus. There was no way he’d let anything happen to him. But the battlefield was ablaze. The tiniest flicker from a Legionarie’s sword set fire to everything around it. Khroy’s previous experience could never have prepared him for this.

  Suddenly a flash of fire screeched across the sky.

  “Whoooaah!” Khroy shouted, scrambling to get away.

  BOOOOM!!!

  He and several others soldiers were blown off their feet.

  Hitting the ground hard, it took Khroy a moment to regain his awareness. Watching the blurry form of his horse galloping away, the hair on his neck stood erect as he felt the powerful vibrations of another fireball over his head. The Crucifers rained fire from the sky, and it smashed into the earth, creating craters upon impact.

  Where is he?

  Where’s Maebus?

  A thunderous boom reverberated above the tumult.

  Another fireball exploded near Khroy. Feeling dazed and confused, Khroy yet swung his broadsword savagely until no enemies remained near him. Spinning in a full circle, he saw that he had lost track of King Maebus. His men were scattered and being pushed back. His split-battalion perimeters were not holding. They were literally drowning in Legionaries. How could they have been so unprepared?

  The world around Khroy became silent. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. The temperature of his body rose as a heated pressure bubbled just beneath the surface of his being. He tried to contain it, but it shot through his body. Instinctively, Khroy leapt forward, slipping, dodging, and maneuvering around the attacks of his enemies. He saw not their faces. He felt only the force of his swings; the impact of his weapon thrashing through all within its path. His sword hungered. He fed it with blood.

  At that moment, throughout the field, several whistles blew at once. Before Khroy could comprehend what was happening, the Realmsic Army dispersed into every direction. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His men were fleeing the battlefield.

  “Stop!” he shouted. “What are you doing? Turn around! Hold your ground!!!”

  “No they will not, Commander,” a voice yelled.

  Relief brightened Khroy’s craggy features when Maebus galloped towards him.

  “Maebus!”

  “Khroy, the first battalion line has broken, and I’ve asked of our men the impossible … to abandon their positions. Now, come quickly, to the castle, we’ve not a moment to lose.”

  “You what?” Khroy exclaimed, falling to his knees.

  “I’ve asked you to trust me, Commander,” Maebus replied extending his hand. “Quickly, let’s go!”

  Khroy reached forward and gripped Maebus’ hand. After being pulled up, he mounted the King’s horse and the two galloped towards the second battalion.

  Chapter Eight

  Grand Wizard Kelm surveyed the battle from atop the castle’s command tower. Standing at the highest point in the kingdom, he too felt the ground tremors as the Legion rapidly approached. He witnessed the invading horde turn the distant mountain peaks ashen. Now, from what he could tell, the first perimeter around Centre Pointe had dissolved, and what remained of their force had dispersed. The second-perimeter soldiers stood in position around the castle, each anticipating, bravely awaiting their turn to engage such a monstrous enemy.

  Kelm, knowing this moment would come, awaited Maebus’ retreat. Emotionless, he watched the progression of the battle. For some time, he’d possessed the full knowledge of the Legion’s ruthlessness. But it still wasn’t enough to prepare him for the reality he now witnessed. He struggled to school his features, to show no dismay.

  He quickly ran all aspects of their elaborate plan through his mind. So many moving pieces, he thought, remembering the conversation he shared with Maebus just last night. Everyone—the army, the two young brothers, the council, even the Legion—had a rol
e to play. Events had proceeded beyond Kelm’s control. Being a meticulous man, Kelm was unsettled at having to remain passive.

  A few miles just beyond the castle, he spotted an explosion. A yellowish streak hit the ground and crackled into black smoke. Through it, Kelm saw Maebus and Khroy riding full speed towards the castle. Legionaries pursued them, separated by an unnervingly short distance.

  “It’s time,” Kelm said to himself.

  Attached to the ledge of the command tower sat a massive Ram Horn. After inhaling a deep breath, he blew into it. When those protecting the Realmsic Castle heard its deep bass note, they would spring into action. As its sound resonated and faded, Kelm retreated into the tower and quickly descended the spiral staircase.

  • • • • •

  Maebus’ body overheated as Khroy clenched onto him upon Nightly. He could feel his own sweat steaming beneath his armor. As he galloped over an incline, the Realmsic Castle and the waiting second combat battalion came into view. Reining in Nightly at the first rank of commanding officers, Maebus quickly dismounted. Khroy, too, slid down.

  Nightly neighed as Maebus rubbed her muzzle one last time. “Be free,” he whispered to her. Smacking her rear, Nightly galloped off towards the Centre Forest. Maebus sighed deeply as she disappeared into the distance.

  “It’s better this way,” he said to Khroy. “She wasn’t needed for the next stage of my plan, and there’s no telling what the Legion would do to her if caught.”

  Khroy nodded his agreement.

  The officers saluted as the two approached their lines of defense. The blood-curdling, demented shrieks of the Legion could be heard in the distance, growing louder as they neared the castle’s perimeter.

  “Officers,” Maebus said, “Move your ranks forward and engage.”

  “Aye, Commandant!” they all acknowledged in unison.

  As the lines of the army began pressing forward, Khroy readied himself for his second round of battle. Maebus turned toward him.

  “Khroy, you need to go. Now.”

  “What?” His eyes widened in astonishment.

  “Get out of here,” Maebus commanded. “There’s not much time!”

  “But … this will be our last stand against Damian’s Legion. I won’t leave you!”

  Maebus steadied his gaze on Khroy. “Is this not what I told you, Commander? Did I not say I would ask the impossible?” He grabbed hold of Khroy’s uniform and then shoved him away hard.

  “Go!” Maebus exclaimed.

  Khroy stumbled backward before regaining his balance.

  “Follow your instructions, Commander,” Maebus said. Without a backward glance, he wheeled away from Khroy and disappeared into the oncoming fray.

  • • • • •

  It had been a long night’s journey through the Centre Forest but, as midday approached, Heegan and Hom found themselves miles away from the castle. Heegan led the way southward as Hom skipped through the forest. His scrawny frame made him extremely light on his feet, though Heegan often teased him about his chubby cheeks, which he too had at Hom’s age. Both young brothers resided at the Realmsic Castle with their parents, who worked on the housekeeping staff.

  What Heegan and his brother lacked in age, however, they more than compensated for in craftiness. Stomach grumbling, Heegan recalled that their mission from King Maebus was due to him and Hom getting caught with their hands in the cookie jar. It happened to be the royal cookie jar. King Maebus had received a gift of cookies from Councilwoman Elva for his coronation. By evading sentries and breaking into the King’s chamber, he and Hom had proven beyond a doubt that they could be skillful spies. It was also for that reason that Maebus now double-bolted his chamber door when away.

  Their mission tonight had a more serious goal than just stealing cookies, however. King Maebus had provided them with necessities for an extended journey. They carried a satchel filled with food, camping sacks, and magical tools. They wore the clothing of woodsmen, consisting of earth tones and heavy materials that were made to blend in with their surroundings. Their parents never would have agreed to such a journey had King Maebus not personally assured their safety.

  So as not to draw attention to themselves, they walked along the heavy brush of the tree lines. With the Realmsic lands now filled with Legionaries and Damian supporters, Heegan knew no path was truly safe. For several miles, they traveled together in silence until Hom suddenly stopped in his tracks. “You hear that?” Heegan halted next to Hom, listening. A faint metallic pitch carried over the breeze.

  “It’s the sound of battle,” Heegan replied.

  The clanging of steel rang through the forest.

  Heegan hoisted himself up along the trunk of a tree, securing his footing in the knobby bark. With little effort, he scaled upwards towards the high branches, eventually making it to the closest one. After pulling himself up, he steadied himself upon the branch by holding one arm against the tree trunk. Peering into the distance, Heegan saw smoke plumes.

  “Most of the fighting is to the north of us. So, from here on southward, our path should be clear,” he said.

  “Maybe,” Hom replied. “Whatcha doing up there? It’s not like you can see the battle.”

  “That’s not what I’m looking for.” Heegan stood on the tips of his toes trying to gain a better view of the tree line ahead.

  “There!” he pointed forward and carefully hopped down from the elevated branch. “I think that large oak will be a good spot for the second one.”

  Hom followed as his brother scampered a few yards to the appointed tree. Heegan touched the bark of its trunk, examining it. Satisfied with his finding, he reached in his carrying pouch and pulled out a metal object.

  “Wait!” Hom shouted, startling Heegan.

  “What!”

  “You said I could do the next one!” Hom whined.

  Heegan sighed, handing over the device. “Here. Do it quickly,” he snapped.

  Obliging, Hom pressed the pointed metal object against the bark. Immediately, its sharp tip glowed, magically soldering a line into the tree. Hom concentrated, drawing line after line into the bark.

  “Hurry!” Heegan insisted.

  “Don’t rush talent,” Hom replied.

  After a few more swipes of his hand, the Realmsic symbol had been drawn into the trunk. But within seconds, the image faded away, leaving what appeared to be an untouched layer of tree. Hom smiled at his work. Heegan backed away a few steps to examine its flawlessness.

  “That Wizard and his gadgets,” he mused. “It’s good that we’re spacing these symbols out. But I hope the others can find them.”

  “Worry much?” Hom teased.

  “With you? All the time!”

  Heegan gave his younger brother a playful shove. After wiping their footprints from the ground, they snuck back into the tree brush and continued southward.

  • • • • •

  Kelm burst through the double doors of the Great Hall. The small group of council members had nervously awaited his arrival since the battle began, just as they had been instructed to do. It was highly unconventional for the council to be exposed during a conflict. Kelm sensed the frustration in the room like an exposed nerve, raw and prickling. The Noble Laws created by Gregor, the first Realmsic King, dictated that at the commencement of battle, the council would retreat to the security chambers located in the bowels of the castle. However, Maebus had dictated otherwise.

  Each member trained their gaze on Kelm, as if expecting some type of acknowledgement of their discomfort. Yet Kelm had no intentions of acknowledging anything of the sort. Kelm, in fact, had no intention of even stopping as he strode from one chamber entrance to the second exit across the room.

  “Council, it’s time!” he said, passing them quickly.

  Without a single word, the council members rose from the table and trailed behind his lead. As one group, they exited the chamber.

  The corridors were empty. All citizens, including staff, were alre
ady in various security chambers throughout the castle and would hopefully be safe from harm. Kelm navigated the curving walkway. The council kept close pace while listening carefully to his briefing of the situation.

  “The Realmsic Army has engaged the enemy and, just as we anticipated, our troops are being pushed back. We need to—”

  “Advisor,” Council Ferst interrupted, “I think I speak on behalf of us all by saying that this is highly unorthodox.”

  “What is, Councilman?” Kelm asked as patiently as he could.

  “Everything. The secrecy, the sudden frenzy of activity contrary to the Noble Laws. Why have we not been escorted to a security chamber?”

  Kelm stopped at a T-intersection at the end of the corridor. “Because this castle will fall, Councilman. Our staff will be fine, but neither you nor any other high-ranking official wants to be discovered in a small, confined area when the Legion bursts through our doors.”

  Ferst was stunned into silence.

  “The secrecy you speak of is for your own protection. You, council, are an integral part of a larger operation. Believe in what King Maebus has told you to do and follow it to the letter. We’ve no time to lose.”

  Kelm waited for a rebuttal, but none came.

  “Ok, I need either you or Councilwoman Elva to lead the group to the sub-east exit of the castle and wait.”

  “Wait, for what?” Ferst asked. Kelm remained silent, staring blankly at the Councilman.

  Ferst sighed. “Very well,” he said.

  Councilwoman Elva stepped forward. “I’ll lead us,” she said to Kelm.