Destroyer of Legends

by Clayton Wood

  Vi leapt backward, dodging in the nick of time, but Dominus was slower. The blade tore through his belly, creating a gaping wound there…and then struck Tykus.

  It went right through the warrior-king’s torso, cutting him in half.

  Tykus’s upper body separated from his lower, blood spraying out of him in horrid jets. He fell, his eyes wide with shock.

  “No!” Hunter shouted.

  He aimed through the scope again, firing at Zagamar’s heart. But Zagamar twisted away at the last minute, the bullet striking him in the right shoulder. The Legend grunted, then spun around, hurling Tykus’s sword right at Hunter!

  Hunter cursed, dodging out of the way as quickly as he could, but the sword clipped the tip of his right wing, severing it. The pain was instantaneous, and he cried out, retracting his injured wing reflexively…and plummeting downward. He caught himself, unfurling his wings again and beating them quickly. But each flap of his wings sent fresh waves of pain through him.

  And below, Zagamar kept on fighting, his wounds barely seeming to affect him.

  Dominus kept attacking the Legend, clearly slowed down by the gash on his belly, but enraged by Tykus’s death. Vi continued her onslaught, keeping Zagamar on his toes. And Xerxes, the slowest of them all, kept swinging gamely…but hit nothing. Nobody hit Zagamar; he was just too fast. Dread gripped Hunter.

  We’re not going to beat him.

  He glanced back, seeing Sukri fighting the remaining Svartálfar alongside the soldiers, the archers in the rear continuing to fire at the foul creatures. To his surprise, she was holding her own, dodging and slashing the beasts with her claws. She moved with fluid grace, far more effective fighting with her hands and feet than she’d ever been with a weapon.

  Hunter focused, aiming down his scope at Zagamar once again. His heart was hammering rapidly, his body beginning to tire. Too much longer and it would collapse.

  He aimed at the Legend’s head…and fired.

  Zagamar ducked a slash by Vi, and the bullet missed him by mere inches, ricocheting off the stone beyond. Hunter cursed, feeling suddenly lightheaded.

  Enough.

  He yanked control of his mind back from Zaggie, the world speeding up abruptly. He struggled with the sudden time-shift, flapping his wings desperately to maintain altitude. Dominus thrust his sword at Zagamar’s back at the same time that Vi slashed at the Legend’s throat…and Zagamar somehow managed to dodge both attacks, spinning around and tearing Dominus’s sword from his hands. He brought the sword up in a tight arc…

  …and Dominus’s right arm separated at the elbow, falling to the ground.

  Zagamar slashed again, this time at Dominus’s throat…and his sword ricocheted off of Vi’s blade.

  “Get back!” she shouted, stepping between the two men and continuing her assault on Zagamar. Xerxes roared, lunging at Zagamar from behind. Zagamar spun around even as he evaded Vi’s string of attacks, landing a brutal kick to Xerxes’ midsection. The armor there absorbed the blow, of course, but the sheer power of the kick sent Xerxes stumbling backward…and right off the wall, luckily on the city-side.

  “Vi!” Sukri cried, finishing off the last of the Svartálfar, then rushing toward Vi and Zagamar.

  “Stay back!” Hunter shouted, lowering himself to the top of the wall.

  BOOM!

  The wall quaked, and Hunter snapped his gaze forward, his heart sinking. For there, clinging to the wall, was the horned serpent. Its head was still charred, but it was otherwise whole; a fresh wave of Svartálfar were rushing up its spine, making their way toward its head.

  “God damn it!” Hunter swore.

  The serpent roared, and Zagamar ducked under one of Vi’s attacks turning and running back to the serpent. Vi sprinted after the Legend.

  “Hunter!” she cried.

  Hunter leapt into the air, flying after Zagamar. He aimed his rifle at the Legend, then lifted his scope to the horned serpent, seeing its black eye magnified there. He pulled the trigger.

  Bam!

  The serpent jerked its head back, Svartálfar falling from its spine. It roared again, lowering its head to the wall, clear fluid leaking from its ruined eye.

  The long line of Svartálfar made it to the top of the huge creature’s head, leaping down to the wall and rushing toward Zagamar and Vi. Hunter peered through the scope, aiming at the back of Zagamar’s head, and fired.

  The bullet veered off-center, taking Zagamar’s right ear off in a spray of blood…right as the Svartálfar reached the Legend, rushing past him and blocking Hunter’s line-of-sight.

  Damn it!

  He fired again and again, taking down a few Svartálfar. Then he pumped his wings, flying higher to get a clean shot on Zagamar. The Legend was less than a hundred feet from the horned serpent now. Vi was close behind him, cutting down the Svartálfar in her path without so much as slowing down. But as fast as she could run, Zagamar was faster.

  Hunter pumped his wings again, then spread them out wide, gliding toward the serpent and lining up for one more shot.

  And then something slammed into his right side, sending him flying to the left!

  Hunter cursed, flapping his wings frantically and righting himself in mid-air. A bird burst past him, zooming through the air and gaining altitude quickly. A huge bird with black feathers and long talons…and a hideous black face.

  A Svartálfar!

  It was one of the foul creatures…but had clearly been a huge bird of prey originally. It circled around quickly, flying right back at Hunter, diving at him with its talons extended. There was no way he was going to outmaneuver the bird…it was far more agile than him.

  He grabbed his rifle, aiming it at the bird and firing. Its head exploded, and it fell like a stone to the city below.

  “Boom motherfucker,” he quipped.

  He turned in mid-air, searching the top of the wall for Zagamar. The Legend had made it all the way to the serpent’s head, a steady stream of Svartálfar managing to stop Vi from catching up to him. They attacked her while others swarmed around her, rushing not toward Dominus and Sukri, but toward the stairs leading down into the city.

  Hunter’s blood went cold.

  “The gates!” he shouted, flying back toward Dominus and Sukri and the remaining soldiers and archers. “Protect the gates!”

  He dove toward the long street leading to the inner gate, spotting the Svartálfar rushing toward it. But something was standing before the gate; a black beast with three arms, nearly ten feet tall.

  Xerxes!

  The great Ironclad roared, tearing into the Svartálfar. But he was quickly overwhelmed, beasts leaping on him while others rushed past, grabbing the rotating lever that opened the gate. They turned it, and the inner gate began to open.

  Hunter cursed, lifting his gaze to Zagamar, standing beside the head of the great serpent…and Vi, surrounded by a writhing wall of Svartálfar fifty feet away from the Legend. There was no way she was going to reach him…not in time. And the inner gate had opened enough for Svartálfar to duck through, and soon after came the screams of dying soldiers within the wall.

  He resisted the urge to go to Xerxes’ aid, remembering Tykus’s words.

  If the time comes – when the time comes – you must do everything you can to ensure that Zagamar falls.

  There was a loud, inhuman cheer from outside the wall, and then Svartálfar poured through the open gates, charging into the city. They overwhelmed Xerxes, dogpiling on top of him and forcing him to his knees. Hunter stared as the Svartálfar clawed at his mane, his face, his three remaining arms. As they slowly took him apart.

  Zagamar must fall!

  He flew upward, leaving Xerxes behind and making his way toward Zagamar. His vision blurred, and he blinked away tears, his jaw rippling.

  Sorry brother.

  He gripped his rifle, aiming down its scope, centering the reticle on Zagamar’s chest. Took a breath out, then held it.

  And pulled the trigger.

 
; Zagamar jerked backward, stumbling into the side of the serpent’s head.

  Yes!

  But the bullet had missed his heart, leaving a hole in the right side of his chest.

  Hunter cried out, pulling the trigger again and again. But the serpent lunged forward, blocking most of the bullets with its huge head. Hunter continued to fire, aiming for the serpent’s other eye and shooting. The serpent’s remaining eye ruptured, and it roared, jerking backward and falling off the wall once again.

  And exposing Zagamar.

  Hunter let go of the rifle, grabbing his longsword and unsheathing it as he dove downward at the wounded Legend. He focused inward even as he landed, summoning Zaggie, the world slowing as he swung his sword at Zagamar’s neck.

  Zagamar dodged with incredible speed, moving far faster even than Hunter…and whipping a clawed hand across Hunter’s temple. Hunter’s head snapped to the side, his helmet torn from his head. Even as it flew away, his mind raced, plotting every possible counterattack.

  Enemy too fast. Need to match.

  Hunter felt the world slow even further, watching as his helmet tumbled through the air with agonizing slowness. He saw Zagamar’s leg rise up to kick him.

  Aiming for hip. Will strike, forcing bend at waist.

  He visualized the endgame instantly: his death.

  That other mind within him ticked through dozens of possible counterattacks, anticipating Zagamar’s responses. A long string of attacks and counterattacks, most leading to Hunter’s death.

  Zagamar’s foot struck Hunter’s hip, forcing him to bend at the waist. Instead of resisting, he went with it, using the momentum to chop down at Zagamar’s head with his longsword. Zagamar dodged to the side, Hunter’s blade missing by a fraction of an inch.

  But also preventing Zagamar from executing a killing blow.

  Hunter snapped his torso upward, bringing his sword straight upward to Zagamar’s chin. Zagamar leaned backward, the tip missing him by a hair’s breadth.

  Not fast enough.

  And Zagamar did a backflip even as he dodged Hunter’s attack, kicking out with one black foot as he did so. It clipped Hunter’s chin, snapping his head back and crushing his tongue between his teeth.

  Hunter stumbled backward, blood filling his mouth.

  Faster!

  He concentrated, forcing time to slow even further…and his heart raced even faster, pushed to its very limit.

  Zagamar landed, lunging at Hunter. Hunter thrust his sword at the Legend’s chest, but Zagamar swiped the blade aside with one hand. Hunter used his sword’s momentum to spin 360 degrees, slashing at Zagamar’s neck. But Zagamar was still quicker, kicking Hunter in mid-spin, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  Hunter rolled backward, rising smoothly to his feet…and barely managing to dodge a string of attacks from the Legend. He backpedaled rapidly…right into one of the Svartálfar behind him.

  It grabbed his sword by the blade, trying to yank it out of his hands…just as Zagamar planted a kick square between his legs.

  His legs buckled.

  Hunter felt his sword pull free from his hands, saw Zagamar lean over him, grabbing him by the throat with one hand, then lifting him off the ground. Hunter’s feet dangled from the top of the wall, his vision beginning to blacken as Zagamar squeezed his neck.

  The Legend sighed, pulling Hunter forward until their noses were nearly touching.

  “You’re strong,” Zagamar stated approvingly.

  Hunter gasped, grabbing Zagamar’s wrists, trying futilely to pry the man’s hands from his neck. The Legend was impossibly strong, his grip like iron.

  A hunger grew within Hunter, Zagamar’s incredible will threatening to overwhelm him.

  “You’re strong, but you lack wisdom,” Zagamar stated. “You fight what you don’t understand. Your only sin is ignorance. Let me show you the truth.”

  Hunter croaked, struggling to breath.

  “You’ve been fooled,” Zagamar continued. “Your rulers control you. They force you to be like them, or be rejected. If you’re weak, they control you. If you’re strong, they destroy you. I offer a different path.”

  Images flashed through Hunter’s mind, visions of an army of Svartálfar rushing toward the wall around Tykus. Of fighting a short-haired woman with impressive skill…and of fighting…

  Him.

  Of fighting Hunter.

  The other within Hunter’s mind processed this, understanding instantly what Hunter could not comprehend.

  You’re absorbing his memories!

  Not just his memories of the distant past, but the memories of now. Every thought, every calculation. Hunter was reading his mind.

  “You can’t defeat me,” Zagamar insisted. “But you can join me, and remain yourself.”

  Hunter gasped, trying to speak past Zagamar’s iron grip. Zagamar humored Hunter, loosening his grip a little. Hunter gasped for air, letting go of Zagamar’s hands.

  “You’re …right,” he rasped. “I…can’t defeat…you.” Then he smirked. “But you can.”

  Hunter grabbed the mace at his hip, swinging it at Zagamar’s flank. Without his helmet, he could feel Zagamar’s thoughts. They were going far too fast for Hunter to follow, but the Zagamar within him had no trouble at all.

  Zagamar dropped Hunter, dodging backward…just as Hunter knew he would.

  Hunter stayed close, ignoring the rising hunger within him, and the chanting of voices long dead. He lunged at Zagamar, swinging his mace in a flurry of attacks…and knowing full well what the Legend’s next moves were, five moves in advance. He pushed his body to the limit, ignoring the burning in his lungs as he gasped for air to feed his brain, his muscles. To feed the Legend within him.

  Zagamar dodged and blocked each attack…until Hunter threw his mace at the Legend’s head. Zagamar dodged to the side, just in time for Hunter to grab his rifle and aim it right where he knew the Legend’s head would end up being.

  He pulled the trigger, and the right half of Zagamar’s face exploded.

  Hunter aimed for Zagamar’s heart as the Legend fell backward, pulling the trigger.

  Click.

  Hunter pulled the trigger again, but it didn’t fire. He was out of ammunition.

  Zagamar caught himself in mid-fall, putting a hand to his ruined face. There was a crater where his right cheek had been, his right eye drooping out of its socket. He glared at Hunter with his remaining eye.

  “How?” he blurted out.

  “Because I’m better than you, asshole,” Hunter answered. He smirked, pulling the spent magazine from his rifle and reaching inside his pocket for another. “Time to die.”

  Zagamar lunged forward, and Hunter dodged to the side. But he was too slow; his body was starting to fail. Zagamar tore the rifle from Hunter’s hands, slamming the butt of it into Hunter’s belly.

  The breath exploded from his lungs.

  Hunter gasped, his vision blackening. He tried desperately to breathe, but no air would come. And without air, his body would fail completely.

  His head swam sickeningly.

  Zagamar grabbed Hunter by the throat with both hands, lifting him off the ground. His eyes narrowed.

  “How did you anticipate my…”

  And then there was a flash of silver, and Zagamar’s left arm separated at the shoulder.

  “Hey asshole,” Vi greeted from behind…and slashed at Zagamar’s neck.

  Zagamar let go of Hunter, dodging Vi’s attack and grabbing his own amputated arm as it fell, swinging it like a club and striking Vi across the temple.

  Hard.

  She fell, her eyes vacant as she struck the ground in slow-motion, her sword falling from her hands. Zagamar lunged for the blade, his fingers curling around the hilt.

  Hunter’s mind raced, noting his heart rate and breathing. His body would not hold up for much longer…and without Zaggie, there was no hope of winning. He ticked through the possibilities, but every action ended with the same conclusion.

/>   His death…and Zagamar winning.

  He lunged for Zagamar even as the Legend lifted Vi’s sword from the ground, turning toward Hunter.

  Zagamar must fall.

  The Legend thrust Vi’s sword at Hunter’s belly, and Hunter felt the tip strike his abdomen, piercing through the leather armor and his skin. Felt it slide through his flesh even as he slammed into Zagamar, wrapping his arms around the Legend’s torso.

  The sudden pain was indescribable, searing through his belly, with a sudden, agonizing burst of pain in his back.

  Hunter cried out, unfurling his wings and leaping into the air, flapping them as hard as he could. He rose into the air, pulling Zagamar upward with him.

  “No!” Zagamar shouted, struggling to free himself from Hunter’s grasp. But with one arm missing, he could not. Hunter pumped his wings, flying higher and higher, until they were a hundred feet above the city. Below, he saw Svartálfar swarming through the city streets, overwhelming the guards.

  The kingdom is lost.

  Hunter brought them ever-higher, feeling suddenly lightheaded, his heart jackhammering in his chest. There was a shout from below, and he saw Sukri and Dominus on the wall, gesturing wildly to the south. Hunter turned his head, his eyes widening.

  For there, flying high in the sky over the Deadlands, were bird-men. Thousands of bird-men. Each armed with a bow.

  They unloaded arrows at the Svartálfar army rushing toward the city, the sky blackening with the deadly rain. Onward they flew, passing over the wall, firing at the Svartálfar in the city streets.

  “No!” Zagamar shouted, twisting around to stare at the carnage. “My people!”

  “They’re not your people,” Hunter retorted. “You were just using them.” Zagamar turned to face him.

  “How can I use them?” he shot back. “They’re all me.”

  “They didn’t ask to be,” Hunter gasped, his vision staring to fade. He let go of the Zagamar within him, time speeding up instantly. He flapped his wings one last time, then let go of Zagamar.

  But Zagamar grabbed his arm, refusing to let go.

  Hunter grabbed the hilt of Vi’s sword, pulling it free from his own belly, screaming at the fresh wave of pain that brought.

  “Don’t do this,” Zagamar pleaded. “You don’t understand what you’re doing!”