by Clayton Wood
“Teach me oh master,” he begged, steepling his hands in front of him and bowing. She rolled her eyes.
“Spend some quality time with that sword,” she replied. “Then the real fun begins.”
* * *
Hunter sat cross-legged before the small campfire he’d made, staring into the flames as he chewed on some bird meat Vi had hunted for them. She’d told him that if she was going to do the hunting, he at least had to make the fire without help. He’d managed to do so, much to his surprise, and was rather proud of the accomplishment. In fact, he found himself looking forward to doing it again…and faster next time.
He felt Vi’s eyes on him opposite the fire, and he glanced up, seeing her staring at him with those strange green eyes. She’d already finished her meal, apparently.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“What’s it like in your world?”
“You mean Earth?” he pressed. She nodded. “It’s…” he began, then paused. How to explain it? “Well, it’s nothing like here,” he admitted.
“Go on.”
“Objects and people don’t absorb or transmit emotions or personalities or anything,” he continued. “There aren’t any monsters either,” he added. “And our technology is a lot more advanced.”
She just sat there, staring at him, waiting for him to continue.
“We have lots of machines there,” he continued. “Machines that fly…like a carriage, but with wings that can carry people all the way around the world. And carriages that work without horses.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Hunter confirmed. “And we have guns, and things called computers that…well, they…” He grimaced. “It’s hard to explain.”
“What’s a gun?” she asked.
“It’s a little weapon that shoots metal things called bullets,” he answered. “So fast that they can go through people. I had one when I went through the Gate, and I used it on an Ironclad,” he added. “Blew its face off with one shot.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “Bet they took it from you.”
“Yeah.”
“They’ll try to reverse-engineer it, of course,” she continued. “That’ll give them an advantage over the Ironclad…and over the other kingdoms.”
“Other kingdoms?” he asked. She nodded.
“There’s a few of them,” she explained. “They’re all different. Tykus has the most powerful military, and is the most…human. They’re the original city, the one created by the first humans, long before Tykus the Legend ever came here.”
“Wait,” Hunter protested. “I thought Tykus founded the city.”
“No,” Vi replied. “That’s propaganda. The city was already here, but Tykus built the Acropolis on top of the existing structure…an ancient crypt. The original tunnels and chambers of the crypt are still there, below the Acropolis.”
“Oh.”
“Why’d you come here?” Vi asked. Hunter sighed, lowering his gaze to the flames.
“My mom,” he admitted. “She was a…someone who studied old civilizations,” he explained. “She and my dad found the Gate in a cave. She fell through trying to save someone else from being pulled into the Gate.”
Vi nodded, continuing to stare at him. He sighed again.
“That was about eight years ago for me,” he admitted. “My dad made up a story about how she died falling down the cave.” He shook his head. “I spent most of my life believing she was dead. I found out the truth a few days ago, and confronted him. He confessed, and I went through the Gate to find her.”
“Ah, I see.”
“When I told Thorius,” he continued, “…he said that time is different here, and that she’d come through almost fifty years ago.”
Vi’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Your mother came through fifty years ago?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Thorius said she was the one who started the Civil War.”
Vi stared at him incredulously.
“What?” he asked.
“Your mother was the Original? The Original?”
“I guess.”
Vi stood then, starting to pace in front of the fire. She stopped, turning to look down at him.
“It makes sense,” she murmured.
“What does?”
She resumed pacing, her chin in one hand.
“Your…coloring,” she answered. “And your will. You’re very similar to her, you know. I should’ve recognized it sooner.”
“What are you talking about?” he pressed.
“You’re the son of a Legend, Hunter,” Vi explained, stopping suddenly. “No wonder why they wanted to get rid of you…it all makes sense now.”
“Not to me,” he shot back.
“Hunter, you’re the son of the woman who nearly destroyed Tykus,” she explained. “She was a Legend…a true Legend, like Tykus. She was the only human Legend known to exist in the last century.”
“Really?” Hunter replied. “I don’t know…she was pretty strong, but she was just my mom. She wasn’t like…legendary or anything.”
“Oh yes she was,” Vi retorted. “Hunter, do you even know what a Legend is?”
“Kinda. Maybe.”
“A Legend is extremely rare,” Vi explained. “A person – or animal, or plant – that has a will so powerful that it can’t be changed. No other will can dominate it. But it can dominate any will it encounters, given time. Your mother could make people think like her, act like her…could make them obey her just by being close to them for long enough. Even her enemies could be converted. Hell, just by existing, she could change an entire people to be like her, just like Tykus did.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Vi insisted. “That’s why she was so dangerous. Just by being in the city, she started to change everyone in it to be like her instead of Tykus. If the kingdom hadn’t forced her out, she would’ve singlehandedly ended their way of life. Their customs, their religion…everything.” She shook her head. “They destroyed the old Outskirts, and even dug up the damn ground she’d walked on, dumping it into the ocean just to get rid of her influence. That’s why we have the Deadlands.”
Hunter stared at her silently, a chill running through him. It was just like Thorius had told him…why they didn’t allow immigrants into the city.
“They didn’t realize she was a Legend until it was almost too late,” Vi continued.
“Wait,” Hunter interjected. “They never said she was a Legend.” Vi snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
“They wouldn’t,” she replied. “She was a woman, remember? And she was the enemy. There’s no way the kingdom would recognize another Original Legend like that. It would threaten their worship of Tykus.”
“Oh.”
“She was a hell of a woman,” Vi continued. “From what I’ve experienced, she was a lot like you. Maybe that’s why I decided to keep you.”
“What do you mean, from what you’ve experienced?”
“I was hired to retrieve some artifacts of hers,” Vi explained. “A while back, when I was still in the guild. I kept a few for myself.” She paused, then started walking back toward her house. “Hold on,” she added, opening the front door and closing it behind her. A few moments later, she returned, carrying a necklace. She walked up to Hunter, kneeling down and offering it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her.
“Something your mother owned,” she answered. “Go on, hold it up to your forehead,” she added. Hunter gave her a questioning look, but she didn’t elaborate further. He shrugged, holding the necklace to his forehead and closing his eyes.
And felt a sudden burst of anger.
He opened his eyes, nearly dropping the necklace, but Vi motioned for him to hold it up to his forehead again. He did so, bracing himself. He felt the anger again…not a violent anger, but a righteous one. As if he’d been wronged somehow.
“Keep going,” he heard Vi say.
He
felt a sudden bitterness then, and a sadness. A loneliness and longing so profound that it made his heart ache. He pictured his father then, and himself when he was a just a kid. The longing intensified, until it all but overwhelmed him.
The necklace fell from his hands, and he opened his eyes, standing up and backing away from it. He stared at it silently, then looked up, seeing Vi eyeing him.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“You felt the power of it?” she asked. Hunter nodded. It’d been far more powerful than the crystalline orb Thorius had given him. More powerful even than Trixie’s unique…gifts.
“It was hers,” he murmured. “It was really hers.”
“It was,” Vi agreed.
“She was really here,” he realized, another chill running through him. The thought that she’d been here, in this world…living in the very city he’d been in for the past few days…was overwhelming. He lowered his gaze, moisture coming unbidden to his eyes. He wiped them away quickly, taking a deep, shuddering breath in.
“I’m sorry Hunter,” Vi murmured, kneeling down and putting a hand on his shoulder. He felt his sadness dissipate, replaced by a gentle somberness.
“She was really here,” he repeated, shaking his head. Vi grabbed the necklace, walking back into her house. She returned a moment later, empty-handed.
“I’ll keep that for you,” she offered. “You can have it any time you need to feel her presence.”
Hunter nodded, feeling moisture blur his eyes again. He wiped them with one sleeve, feeling suddenly drained.
“Thanks Vi,” he mumbled.
She smiled, sitting down across the fire from him once again. He could feel her eyes on him, but he didn’t meet them. He stared into the dying flames of the fire instead, feeling its heat on his face, drying his tears.
“What am I going to do here?” he wondered. “I came to find my mom, and she’s gone.” He sighed heavily. “And now I can never go back home.”
“Hunter,” Vi began, hesitating for a moment. “Your mother may not be here, but a part of her is,” she replied. “Like in that necklace,” she added. “There are other artifacts with her inside of them…maybe even her Ossae.” She smiled, getting up and sitting down beside him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. “You can still have her…a part of her, anyway. In this world, the strong-willed carry on even after death,” she continued. “And Legends…well, they live on forever.”
Chapter 20
Conlan smiled as Dominus walked across the long hallway leading to the Royal Chambers, passing row after row of Royal guards that were forever stationed there. His son strode up to him, leaning in to embrace him.
“Good afternoon father,” he greeted, pulling away. “How are you?”
“As well as can be expected,” Dominus replied, eyeing Conlan critically. Dressed in the fine royal uniform of Tykus himself, resplendent with the amulet, rings, and crown the great king himself had once worn, his son certainly looked the part. He was early in the transition process, of course…no one would ever mistake his son for the one true king.
“Your leg is bothering you,” Conlan noted.
“It always does.”
“It’s good to get out of that damn room,” Conlan stated, gesturing at the huge set of double-doors at the end of the hallway. As a new king, he was forced to spend all but three hours a day in the Royal Chambers. Containing the Ossae of Tykus himself, and most of the one king’s personal possessions, the Chambers were where Tykus’s will was most potent…and where the transition would occur most efficiently.
“How is the transition going?” Dominus inquired.
“I question if it even is,” Conlan answered. “To be honest, I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday.”
Dominus said nothing, eyeing Conlan. He seemed exuberant…confident. Too confident. Dominus felt a familiar irritation come over him.
“It’s only been one day,” he stated evenly.
“He’s strong,” Conlan admitted. “There’s no doubt about it. But I think I’m almost as strong as he is.”
Again, Dominus said nothing. Conlan smirked at him.
“You think I’m wrong,” he observed. “You always give me that look when you think I’m wrong.”
“Time will tell whether you are or aren’t.”
“You think I’ll transition, don’t you?” Conlan stated. “Well I’m not so sure. What if I don’t?” he added, spreading his arms out wide. “Think about it!”
“Such a thing has never happened,” Dominus retorted, feeling his irritation getting the best of him. “You underestimate His power.”
“Maybe,” Conlan replied, clearly unconvinced. “Like you said, time will tell.”
“Indeed.”
“So who’s this boy you’ve taken under your wing?” Conlan inquired. “What’s his name again, Axio?”
“He’s your cousin,” Dominus answered.
“The heir to the Duke of Wexford!” Conlan declared. He eyed his father. “You never were going to let me have the Duchy, were you.”
“You are my only son,” Dominus countered. “The Duchy would have been your birthright if the king had sired a son.”
“Mmm hmm,” Conlan replied. “You know what I think?”
Dominus said nothing.
“I think the king could have had a dozen heirs and you still wouldn’t let me succeed you,” Conlan stated. “You never liked me very much, did you father?”
“I love you as my son,” Dominus retorted.
“But you don’t like me, do you?” he pressed. Dominus grimaced.
“You were a difficult child.”
“Yes I was,” Conlan agreed. “But only because I questioned everything. Questioned you, and I know how much you hate to be questioned.”
“There’s a difference between questioning and defiance,” Dominus countered wearily.
“Isn’t that what all old men call questioning?” Conlan pressed. “Defiance?” He shook his head. “I dared to question the holiness of Tykus, and you acted as if I murdered my own mother.”
“Conlan…”
“What makes him so special?” Conlan interrupted. “Hmm? He was a Legend, granted. But my will is strong too…and there’ve been other Legends you know. Yet we keep bringing Tykus back. Why?”
“You know why.”
“I’ve read a great deal about him,” Conlan continued. “He was a radical, did you know that?”
Dominus grimaced, irritated at Conlan’s smug attitude. He’d read more about Tykus than the boy could ever imagine…read more books than Conlan had read pages. It was the conceit of youth that, upon acquiring a parcel of the truth, they believed themselves masters of the universe, deriding their ‘ignorant’ elders.
“Tykus was considered a radical in his time,” Conlan lectured. “He usurped the government, making his way into the king’s inner circle, then used his will to dominate the king. A king who thought himself a Legend, ironically enough.”
“That is ironic,” Dominus agreed. Conlan grimaced.
“My point is, a man of superior will always prove himself in the end,” he stated. “I’ve spent a full night in the Royal Chambers, and yet I am still very much myself. This is unprecedented…no king has ever been able to withstand Tykus’s will.”
“And no king ever will,” Dominus retorted.
“We shall see,” Conlan replied with that irritating smirk of his. Dominus suppressed his annoyance, keeping his expression carefully neutral. Perhaps it was best to entertain Conlan’s delusions, if only to make the transition smoother.
“I look forward to being proven wrong, son,” he stated.
“I have a great many ideas for the kingdom,” Conlan continued. “We’re far too conservative father. Do you know that in the Kingdom of the Deep, they allow absorption of wild traits?” He raised his eyebrows. “They encourage it, father. Imagine, having the strength of a bull, or the speed of a…”
“Our humanity,” Dominus interrupted, “…is ou
r greatest strength.”
“And our greatest weakness,” Conlan countered. “I read the reports on the attack on the military base. Ten men killed by a single Ironclad! It’s pathetic how weak we are.”
“Yet we’ve created the most powerful kingdom in the world,” Dominus reminded him. “Built this enormous city, and driven out the Ironclad.” He shook his head. “What we lack in animal defenses, we more than make up for with our intellect…our imagination.”
“But why not have both?” Conlan pressed. “We would become the most powerful species in the world, father!”
“And lose our humanity,” Dominus retorted. Conlan rolled his eyes, throwing up his hands.
“Humanity,” he muttered. “What does it even mean? What is it worth, father? What is it truly worth?”
Dominus just stared at him.
“You cling to humanity as if it’s some precious thing, something that must be preserved at all costs,” Conlan continued. “It’s nothing more than pathetic sentiment father.”
“We’ve maintained our humanity for millennia,” Dominus stated, feeling his irritation get the better of him. “The Originals are proof of that. Who are you to decide that, after thousands of years, we’ll just give up everything we’ve worked for?”
Conlan smiled, putting a hand to his breast.
“I,” he answered, “…am the king.”
Dominus shook his head.
“Tykus is the king,” he retorted. “You?” He gave Conlan a withering look. “You’re just an empty cup waiting to be filled.”
* * *
Hunter opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. He blinked, realizing that he was lying on his side on the canyon floor, on his makeshift bed of leaves and dirt. His hip was sore from having laid on it all night; Vi had once again insisted that he sleep outside while she slept in the comfort of her bed. With all those dolls and stuffed animals. Which was weird.
He grunted, pulling himself into a sitting position, finding the sword Vi had given him yesterday lying next to him in its sheath. She’d insisted he sleep with it, to better absorb its original owner’s skills. He stood up, grabbing the sword and strapping it to his waist, glancing up at the sky. The sun was hovering just above the treetops high above, casting long shadows into the canyon. Vi’s house was in the distance across the bridge…and the separate, smaller building to the right of it.
