Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5)

by Sever Bronny

  “I was thinking of maybe seeing the Seers,” Augum blurted.

  “That would be ill-advised. Youth tends to ask stupid questions. Best to wait until old age. Anna did it right. Heed her lesson.”

  The chair withdrew once more, the ethereal voice in Augum’s mind softening. “I have some fondness for this castle, for even before Anna’s time, I was here in a grand, youthful adventure. I was young and impenetrably stupid. That was … so very long ago. Nonetheless, let me see if I still recall the command. Ah, here we are. Becca issisi Fentwick.”

  There was a long pause during which the trio exchanged a curious look. Eventually there came a metallic shuffle from the hall.

  “Beetleface, if you please.”

  “Your Brilliance.” Secretary Klines opened the intricately carved door to reveal Fentwick, the animated suit of battered arcane armor native to Castle Arinthian.

  “Thou hath besought, thus hither I come,” Fentwick said in a tin nasal voice as he stepped into the room.

  “All right, a test of memory,” Ning said telepathically to the trio. “Remember the following passage.” She positioned her floating chair before Fentwick. “Consequanto megano, warla affi vex.”

  “Astri adiano maga warli asi,” Fentwick immediately replied.

  “Ah. There we are.”

  “I don’t understand,” Bridget said.

  “Fentwick, what is your purpose?” Ning asked, ignoring Bridget.

  The suit of armor rattled as it bowed. “Fentwick at thine service, mine lady, arcane trainer, defender and sparring partner to thee young princes and princesses of ye castle.”

  The floating chair turned toward the trio. If Ning’s brows could, Augum swore one would have risen smugly.

  “Fentwick has been changed into Arcaner mode. To change him back, say the words ‘consequanto battano, warla affi vex’.”

  “Astri adiano batta warli asi,” Fentwick immediately replied.

  “Not yet, you over-hammered bucket,” Ning snapped. “Now repeat both lines back to me,” she said to the trio impatiently.

  The girls hesitated, but for once, Augum took up the slack, amazed that he was able to remember both lines.

  “Consequanto megano, warla affi vex,” Augum said.

  “Astri adiano maga warli asi,” Fentwick immediately replied.

  “Consequanto battano, warla affi vex.”

  “Astri adiano batta warli asi.”

  “I think I got it,” Augum confirmed with a nod, saying the first line again to switch Fentwick back into Arcaner mode. The scion had helped his memory somehow, which would come in superb use when memorizing new spells.

  “You have a tenday to train yourselves while Augum tunes to the castle. I suggest you use it wisely. Luck to you all,” and she floated toward the door.

  “That … that’s it?” Leera asked.

  The chair turned around at the doorway. “I have a library to salvage. Thousands and thousands of years of precious and irreplaceable knowledge, knowledge I consider far more valuable than any further input I may provide. Beetlebrain, to me,” and Senior Arcaneologist Lien Ning disappeared.

  Secretary Klines bowed deeply. “Prince Augum, Princess Bridget, Princess Leera. I wish I was able to stay and help, but—” Her magnified bespectacled eyes flicked to the door as her voice dropped. “She can be quite the handful and constantly taunts the guards. But she is right, we have our own battle to save precious irretrievable history. It seems the Lord of the Legion wants certain parts of it … destroyed.”

  Augum suspected he knew some of the parts she was referring to. The books about the man and his deeds, most notably.

  “We understand completely,” Bridget said in compassionate tones.

  “I am glad to hear it. Well, I best be off before she accidentally runs over one of the kids again.”

  “Goodbye and good luck, Secretary Klines.”

  “Quirky creatures, the pair of them,” Leera muttered, absently munching on a chocolate.

  Augum silently agreed. He was going to miss them both.

  Inheritance

  The trio turned their attention to the great canopy bed where Mrs. Stone had slept, on top of which lay the meager possessions she had bequeathed Augum—two books and three letters.

  “Let’s give him some privacy,” Bridget whispered.

  Leera snapped her fingers, mouth full with two pieces of chocolate. “Let’s go, Fentwick.”

  “As mine royal princess commands.”

  The voices of the girls trailed as the group left.

  “He’s not a dog, Lee …”

  “Did you hear that? He called me princess …”

  “Join you soon,” Augum mumbled as he picked up the great ornate blue tome titled On Arcaneology: A Pupil’s Encyclopedia of the Arcane Arts, and fondly recalled him and the girls placing their hands upon it and swearing their allegiance to learning the arcane arts. He smiled to himself. That moment had cemented them together as friends forever. And how far they had come since …

  A small note fell out from within. Augum picked it up, unfolding it.

  I leave this great tome to Augum Stone, Bridget Burns, and Leera Jones. Knowledge is the true quest and the most precious gift of all. Study hard and apply yourselves all of your lives. But also do not forget to listen to the silence in between moments.

  “We will, Nana,” he whispered, tucking the note back inside the book and placing it aside. The girls will be glad to read it too.

  Next was the ornate ancient golden book on Annocronomus Tempusari, crafted entirely from gold. The cover depicted a simple spiral and its interior pages were made from gold leaf.

  Finding no note within, he placed it aside and picked up a letter addressed to him. He cracked the wax seal and unfolded the heavy parchment. The handwriting, as always, was neat and precise, with the occasional elegantly looped letter for accent.

  My dear Great-grandson,

  You are most likely reading this in my room after being briefed by Senior Arcaneologist Lien Ning, which means I have passed from this life, leaving you with the objects before you, as well as the Arinthian scion. With great luck, I will have been accepted as a Leyan to continue the fight against an ancient enemy that will test every bit of my skill. I seek to free Ley of Magua’s influence, with the additional hope that by doing so, you would find your fight against Lividius a little easier, for the two of them are bound together by a pact. Just as the scions affect Ley, so does their pact affect each other, though exactly how, I have yet to determine.

  But nothing is certain, I am afraid. And make no mistake, the test before you will be the greatest of your life thus far. There is a strong possibility one or more of you may perish. But take heart, for I have prepared a detailed study of Lividius’ tactics, which you shall find in the third letter, a letter I have been slowly penning since I faced Lividius at Hangman’s Rock.

  Do you remember when you asked me if I thought you would ever become stronger than your father?

  “I certainly do,” Augum whispered as he held the letter, recalling standing outside the castle on a sunny but cold winter morning.

  And I replied that you would if you wanted to be, but the real question was, would you need to be? Combined with Annocronomus Tempusari, the support of the Resistance and your friends, diligent study, some ingenuity, and a bit of luck, you will win through.

  Perhaps now would be a good time to tell you how it is exactly I defeated Narsus the Necromancer underneath the Academy of Arcane Arts. You see, it was not a solo effort. I had support in many minor ways discounted by history, for history loves its solo heroes. I had studied the layout of the academy and realized I could run my opponent through a gauntlet. And so I set traps for him as he chased me, some of those traps manned by warlocks, some by ordinary people. Many of those brave souls died successfully swiping at Narsus, thus weakening him just enough for the final battle. I finished him off using a powerful spell he did not see coming. You too have that advantage with two
spells—Annocronomus Tempusari and Centarro. You have the scion and you have the Resistance behind you. Above all, you have Bridget and Leera.

  What I shall say next will not be easy to hear. Your great challenge is not in defeating the Lord of the Legion, but accepting sacrifices along the way. That is the true burden of leadership … and your true inheritance.

  Augum had to stop reading to fling the letter aside and smash the bed with his fists. “I won’t sacrifice anybody—” he snapped with gritted teeth. Especially the girls. He’d rather die a thousand deaths in a boiling cauldron. How could she even suggest such a thing!

  It took him a little bit to realize perhaps she had not meant it in that way exactly. Maybe she was talking about physical objects, like the scion and stuff.

  After convincing himself of that point, he took a deep breath and picked the letter back up again.

  Once you find the master runeword, you shall become, if I recall my research correctly, the Keeper of the Keys. This should place the castle’s full potential at your disposal. Since I had never uncovered the master runeword, having no knowledge of it until recently, not even I have gone that far. But you will not be able to unlock the castle’s full defensive and offensive capabilities until the scion tunes itself to it, which requires a full tenday, as you now know from Senior Arcaneologist Ning. That gives you ten days to prepare and find the master runeword, barring any unfortunate happenstance. Should you fail to uncover the runeword, the scion should still give you access to basic defensive functions. Study everything you have learned thus far. Push yourself, Great-grandson.

  Besides the plaque clue we discussed, the only other clue I can offer is the knowledge that a true Arinthian heir is one who is expected not only to wield the scion, but likely also expected to be versed in arithmetic, astronomy, history, language, leadership, literature, logic, ethics, and the art of war—or some combination thereof. Much like the test of the bird I administered to you, so thus Arinthian will likely have his own tests to ensure the castle’s secrets do not fall into the wrong hands. This clue may or may not help in the endeavor. Do not be afraid to ask for assistance.

  As I said, if I am lucky, I will have transcended into the plane of Ley to battle Magua, a most worthy and ancient foe, in hopes of freeing the plane from her influence. I do not know if vanquishing her will affect Lividius or benefit the Resistance. If I am luckier still and my quest succeeds, I will perhaps have the chance to once again disseminate Leyan knowledge while exploring the long-forgotten art of enlightenment. But that is all in due time, and a most ambitious thing to ask the Fates.

  I hereby bequeath the burden of the scion to you, Great-grandson, as well as the quest of defeating a man I failed to curtail, a man responsible for much suffering. I wish we had more time together, for I feel there is much I would have liked to pass on.

  Alas, I have never been one for sentimentality, as you well know. This letter was difficult to write, but I sign off knowing you shall make Solia a better kingdom after I am gone. Preside over the castle and its inhabitants in good faith. Take good care of your friends. Trust your instincts and your judgment. Do not be afraid of change, nor of making mistakes. Stand against tyranny. Honor tradition. Love deeply. Live brightly.

  Above all, never stop learning.

  With eternal love,

  Anna Atticus Stone

  P.S. Please do not forget to return the Orb of Orion to the academy.

  Augum quietly stared at the letter for a time. Here in these words was her spirit. She need not have left him trinkets to remember her by. Always practical, determined, intelligent, wise, and reasonable, his great-grandmother left him with precious tools, whether those tools be knowledge or the scion.

  He gently folded the letter up and placed it aside, then briefly scanned the other two letters, a long and detailed one on the Lord of the Legion—he no longer thought of him as his father—and the other on the scion. He set them aside as well and rubbed his face. He’d start studying those in the morning. Right now, he felt absolutely exhausted, more exhausted then he had felt in a very long time. He desperately craved a solid night’s sleep. There was now so much to do—organize the castle defensively, for there were a host of new people to deal with; diligently study the letters; concoct a detailed plan and train for it; and, above all, find the master runeword by deciphering the clues.

  But for now, he wearily gathered the letters and two old books and set off to his room, scion floating along with a quiet buzz. There he placed the items on his desk and stepped out onto the terrace for some precious alone time with the sun, sky and wind.

  Simple Silver

  “Thought I’d find you out here.”

  Augum turned away from the late afternoon sun on the terrace. “Princess Leera.”

  Like him, she was wearing her new emerald robe, with its bright academy crest. She strolled over and leaned on the ancient creneled wall to glance out at the sprawling Ravenwood, looking positively radiant in the sunlight.

  “I can see why you enjoy being out here alone.” She gave him that crooked smile of hers. “A prince adjusting to his castle.”

  “I like to think it’s our castle.”

  This brought a warm smile to her mischievous lips, yet her eyes flicked to the floating scion.

  “It worries you,” he said.

  “What does?”

  He nodded at the scion, which bobbed in midair as if in acknowledgment. He wondered if it was alive somehow, or perhaps merely an echo of his subconscious thoughts.

  She shrugged as she returned to watching the horizon. “I guess I’m just afraid that you’ll change. It’s subtle, but I can already see it—” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “—in the way you talk, the way you look at things, the way you think. I’m afraid you’ll—”

  “—I won’t.”

  “Won’t what?”

  It was his turn to flash a crooked smile. “You know, change.”

  She stared into his eyes. “Cron is making you more handsome.”

  “And you more beautiful.” It was true, and one of his favorite things to do was gaze at her as the sun hit her freckles and the wind slipped through her raven hair.

  “That promise Jez made us make,” he said, leaving it unspoken.

  She nodded. “My thoughts exactly, going to be hard to keep it.”

  He smiled in agreement. There were some things beyond protocol and traditions, and love was one.

  Leera placed her gaze on the horizon again. “Sunset soon,” before adding, “Our honor is important to the kingdom, Prince.”

  “Oh, so now you want to be completely responsible? You sound like a mishmash of Jez and Bridget.”

  “I mean it, Augum Stone. She’s right about scandal.” When his mischievous look persisted, she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you’re such a boy.”

  He lightly punched her shoulder. “I’m just teasing. I’m not stupid.” He wasn’t too worried, he trusted the pair of them to be responsible together. Above all, they were a team now. Setting aside their wants and needs was difficult, but that was part of growing up, becoming a man and woman. He would be sixteen soon, and then things would be very different. Of course, he’d have to survive first, which at the moment did not seem very likely.

  The weight of it rested heavily on his shoulders, one more rock added to a mountain. But there were other, graver concerns. As if in acknowledgment of that fact, Leera’s gaze fell upon one of the many black smoke tendrils on the horizon.

  “A tenday,” she said.

  “A tenday …”

  “Not much time.”

  “Not much time at all.” What would one do with one’s life given only a tenday to live?

  “I saw you and Bridget …” Leera swallowed, unable to meet his gaze. “I saw you two, you know …” She made a vague gesture at her face. Augum recalled seeing it speckled with blood and realized what she was referring to. She had witnessed him and Bridget spring the trap set on his mother’s sarcophagus … and ha
d thus witnessed the two of them get blown up in front of her. Now her gaze was distant as she relived the horror of that moment.

  He took her hands in his own. “We’re fine.” He didn’t tell her about seeing Bridget turn into an old lady.

  She withdrew something from her pocket and opened her palm to him, revealing a silver locket. He took the underside of that hand and gently drew her closer. For a moment, he only stared at the precious object and its simple chain, the slight tarnishing, the engraved letters TTS, for Terra Titan Stone. At last, he took it from her, feeling its coolness and weight. He did not want to open it just yet.

  “You, uh, did dispel the Object Track enchantment?” he said.

  Leera gave him a blank look. “Huh?”

  Augum felt a wild thrill of horror. Sparkstone would be on his way there in that very moment—!

  “The enchantment!” he snapped. “Don’t you remember—”

  An evil little grin spread across her face.

  He breathed an immense sigh of relief. “You rascal. You were joking.”

  “And you couldn’t tell.”

  She was right. Perhaps the scion hadn’t made him as perceptive as he had thought.

  She nodded at the locket. “I haven’t looked inside.”

  He carefully opened it, finding a skillfully painted miniature portrait of his mother holding him when he was a baby. She was smiling, her coffee-colored hair hanging in elegant locks curled for the occasion. Yet there was a delicate sadness behind her kind and loving eyes, eyes the color of a spring brook.

  “He used this locket to track her down,” he murmured. It felt heavier, as if the sins of the past suddenly weighed down upon it in the present.