Legends of the War (War of the Magi Book 3)

by Stephen Allan

  There was Ifrit, a monster which controlled fire. Its horns, robes, and chiseled muscles made it look like the most horrifying demon a man could ever create in his mind.

  There was Shiva, a blue-skinned goddess-like figure who controlled ice. She did not walk as much as she floated through the air, her clothing minimal, her body glowing, and the threat of ice coming at any moment.

  There was Odin, the knight on the back of a massive horse. At nearly ten feet tall with a horse that looked like a giant carriage instead of an actual animal, nothing withstood the physical might of the knight. Even behemoths, Artemia knew, would fall to this mythical warrior.

  Above her, Valigarmanda, a bird with multiple-colored wings and the ability to use the elements of fire, ice, and lightning all at once, cawed, perhaps hungry for action and food.

  Behind her, the phoenix, a bird of burning orange and red feathers, shrieked.

  And around them, so many other smaller monsters that she had not bothered to learn protected her and prepared to fight for her.

  She had an army of beasts that could not just take out a dragon. They could take out civilization. It would make for a wonderful treat to watch the emperor suffer as she returned the favor for all the times he had degraded her, assaulted her, or tried to threaten her. Unlike the fat excuse of a leader, she had the means to back up her threats. And when she met him, she fully intended to make good on them. We’ll have some fun first, though. Oh, we will enjoy ourselves.

  They came to what once was the entrance, now blocked by an actual avalanche. Before Ifrit had emerged from the ice, Artemia had wondered how she might escape, putting such questions to the side until she and her former hunter had dispatched Ragnor.

  Now, though, it was a mere nuisance to be dealt with quickly.

  “Ifrit,” she said, barely able to contain her excitement. “Clear the way. Quickly, if you would.”

  “As you command,” the demon growled.

  Flames engulfed the monster as it looked like a muscular, horned man on fire. It lifted its hands as fireballs formed in their palms. Ifrit threw the fire at the snow and then charged the thick pile, running through it like knife through half-melted butter. Artemia tried her best not to look too impressed with the display, but the ice melted so quickly before this incredible showcase of power that she allowed herself a slip when Ifrit did not look at her.

  “Impressive,” Artemia said when Ifrit returned, its flames dying down and its brown and red skin returning. “I can see why Ragnor had you as a servant.”

  “I did not serve Ragnor,” Ifrit sneered. “I serve Iblis and, at his command, those the true god instruct me to follow. I worked with Ragnor and was told to work with whoever defeated him. It is you who has that privilege now.”

  “Privilege,” Artemia said, bemused by the word.

  It was she who had freed Ifrit and all of the other monsters in here from the mind control of Ragnor. It was her who now commanded them. They had no privilege. She had no privilege that she had earned. She simply had power, and she intended to use that power. If a god named Iblis thought he had control over her, he had another thing coming.

  “Yes,” Ifrit said.

  If he’s trying to warn me, the poor soul has no idea how poor of a job he is doing.

  “Then allow me to exercise that privilege, and you can follow me out the temple,” Artemia said.

  They emerged from the temple to see a rather unwelcoming sight. The hundred or so dragons which had protected the cave of Ragnor flew around, but unlike before, they flew with less cohesion, their patterns not consistent anymore and their unity a thing of the past. A few even snapped at each other, growls and roars echoing through the cave.

  But the dragons slowly saw Artemia and her horde of beasts, and as they did, the cry of one turned into the cry of ten which turned into a cry of them all. They knew who had killed their master. And they looked none too pleased about it.

  “Finally, a chance to show me that you are worthy of joining me on my fight,” Artemia said.

  She did not panic as two of the dragons dived for her. Instead, she glanced above to see Valigarmanda soaring forward to meet them head on. She crossed her arms, curious to see what would come from this battle. Either she would die quickly or she’d have confirmation of her newfound power.

  A bright flash filled the sky, so bright that even the monsters had to put their hands up to protect their eyes as Artemia did. The flash remained for several seconds, followed by loud screeches both from the dragons and from Valigarmanda. Artemia then felt drops of rain, but she knew it was not rain that fell from the sky.

  She looked up to see Valigarmanda screeching, taunting the other dragons, as the two dragons which had tried to strike first were simply nowhere to be seen. From men who sometimes failed to monsters that erase the existence of dragons.

  “Now this is true power,” Artemia said. “Monsters! Kill all of the dragons in sight. Let none of them escape!”

  With a bellow, Ifrit led the charge, leaping an unimaginable height to reach the nearest dragon. Shiva, the phoenix, and Odin all followed, with the other monsters in pursuit. The warfare was one-sided, the viciousness unlike anything Artemia had ever witnessed, even in dragon on dragon attacks or fights between dragons and behemoths.

  Ifrit broke the wings off of a dragon, dug its claws into the dragon’s back, and grounded the monster with a roar. Shiva froze the fire of another dragon just as it breathed toward her, causing it to choke. The phoenix and other beasts took their turns mauling the enemy dragons.

  “Look at this!” Artemia said laughing. “Look at it all! I control everything! I control the skies! The monsters! The land! Hydor is mine!”

  She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. She’d finally done it. She’d found the power that she sought for so long. She laughed to think about how excited she’d become over the spells she could cast with Indica’s sliver of a crystal. Who needed such magic when she had monsters born to create such power? Who needed the ability to embed one’s sword with fire when she could just have Ifrit burn the entire room to the ground?

  But then she watched a little longer and realized not everything would go her way. The larger dragons fought back with gusto and fury, as if they had embodied Eric’s soul and spat on her once more. They bit and burned the smaller of Artemia’s monsters and gave a good fight to the phoenix and Valigarmanda. One even knocked Odin from its horse, though the horse ran off before the dragon could finish the kill.

  Artemia wanted a piece of the action badly. She had her sword on her hip and lusted after an opportunity to bull her way in. Without the essence of Indica, though, she had lost her magical power. She could control those who wielded magic, but she could not use magic herself.

  She silently cursed the name of Eric for refusing to turn over the turquoise crystal when she’d asked. She considered him an abomination, a weak fool and an idiot of almost impossibly stupid proportions. She regretted not finding a way down into the cavern when she had the chance.

  No. I still have the chance. I have weapons at my disposal now.

  “Valigarmanda!”

  She summoned the bird of majestic feathers, magic, and power down to her as it eliminated another smaller dragon with a fire spell that incinerated the dragon with barely any ashes to mark its presence. It flapped its wings until it came directly in front of its master, and then bowed its head as it waited for Artemia’s command.

  “Follow me back inside,” she growled. “I have something for you to fetch. Ifrit! This fight doesn’t end until there isn’t a dragon left in the sky!”

  “As you command, master,” Ifrit yelled, his deep voice bellowing through the valley and over the roars of angry dragons.

  Artemia ducked into the temple, Valigarmanda fluttering behind her. A dragon roared behind her, a purple-bellied monstrosity that saw an opportunity to kill. Artemia laughed and looked away. She could feel Valigarmanda preparing for the kill, and after a few shrieks of the dragon, she k
new the multi-colored bird had done its job.

  Except when it fluttered back, she noticed burns on its face.

  “Can you still use your magic?”

  “Yes,” the bird said, its voice sounding more like it had come from her mind than from its throat.

  “Then let us proceed,” she said. No time could be spent nursing wounds that did not truly debilitate.

  She made her way down the caverns, quickly, running as Valigarmanda flew and kept up. When they got to the bottom of the cavern, to Ragnor’s old base, she found the cracks immediately.

  For Artemia to jump down would kill her. For her to jump on the back of Valigarmanda and search herself would kill them both. As much as she loathed it, she had to rely on another being.

  “Search for an essence that radiates a light blue color,” she snapped. “And if you find the boy with it, grab any weapons he has and bring them to me.”

  Valigarmanda screeched as it dove down, vanishing into the blackness of the void. Artemia bent down, trying to track the great beast, but the faded red hue did not reach into the cracks. She instead relied on the distant screeches and ensuing echoes that followed to track Valigarmanda’s progress.

  One thing she could tell—the bird explored a significant portion of the opening. How deep it went, she could not say. Certainly, Eric could not have survived a fall that far down. She remembered hearing his body collide with whatever ground, wall, or surface he’d met down there. She didn’t hear any grunts or cries for help. If he was ever going to be a threat with the skills he had, that wouldn’t come to fruition now.

  But she started to get frustrated as Valigarmanda did not return with her crystal. She didn’t want it. She didn’t crave it. She needed it. For without it, her army of summoned monsters could turn on her and kill her. Artemia had aggression and leadership buried into her very being, but she did not lack the intelligence to realize when she lead a group capable of annihilating her with no forewarning.

  She heard the bird screeching back, and it sat next to her.

  No essence.

  She bit her tongue, careful of her words.

  “Did you find the boy?”

  “No,” Valigarmanda said, the voice screechy and rough.

  Artemia grimaced. If Valigarmanda could not find it, what would? Wherever the boy had fallen to, no one would ever find him. He had died like his family—trying to stand up to her, only to fall miserably, and now buried where no one would ever know of their existence. Good. The Garland name is one that shouldn’t exist. Theros will last forever. Garland dies here.

  “Let’s go,” she snapped.

  At least if she didn’t have that particular essence of Indica, no one else would. And what she soon realized was it wouldn’t even matter. For before she could accomplish her ultimate goal, before she ventured to the far north, she had to return back east to handle a couple of matters.

  One, the woman whom she’d negotiated for leadership of the empire with, Kara, would need to fall out of favor in those negotiations. Truly, it would be a shame, but Kara couldn’t be trusted. How could she trust anyone with as much power as a woman who held the essence of Indica in her hands? No, better to let someone else who already possessed the full power of Ragnor watch over the power of Indica.

  Two, she’d have to let the emperor know who would rule Hydor by month’s end. The reign of Rufus Syrast involved mostly bombastic speech, failed promises, emotional swings, and temper tantrums. Such a frivolous display of power might have worked on those who had never tasted true power, but it sure wouldn’t mean anything to Artemia, someone who knew what it meant to control an entire force of people.

  She stormed out of the temple and emerged into the dawn of the new day. Even with the forces of her army and the sheer number of dragons, seeing the number of fallen monsters on the ground surprised her. Rarely did Artemia find herself speechless, but briefly, she encountered such a moment.

  Until Ifrit bounded up to her, and she reminded herself she needed to focus.

  “We have eliminated all dragons within sight,” he said, bowing. “What are we to do next?”

  “Impressive,” Artemia said. She sized up the forces she had left. Ifrit, Shiva, Valigarmanda, the phoenix, and Odin all remained. But the rest of her forces had fallen. Fine. She barely took the time to learn them. And when she explained to her enemies what it meant to have killed hundreds of dragons in a single battle, they would know what real power looked like. “We are to head to Caia immediately. We head north over the mountains, through the plains, and run east when we reach the far river.”

  But then a “concerning” thought came to mind. Artemia didn’t like to show her hand until she had to. Why spend all of her gold when a silver piece would suffice? She didn’t want to show her five special minions’ power to the world until she had to.

  But where would they go? It wasn’t like she could just place them in the crystal.

  “I ask, however, that you do not show what you are capable of in Caia until I request it or my life is at risk,” Artemia said. “You are a force that is best feared through legend and tales. The minute your powers are revealed to my enemies, you give them a chance to study you. And men do not fear what they can study, but they do fear what others can only whisper on.”

  “We do as you command, master,” Ifrit said.

  “Good,” Artemia said as she eyed Odin. “I want your horse. The rest of you, can you keep up?”

  “We move far faster than your frail bones would take you,” Ifrit said. “But we are creatures of Hydor, not spirits. We will have a limit.”

  “That is fine,” Artemia said with a callous smile. “Our greatest threat lives in naive peace to the north, and the remainder of our enemies cannot muster the forces necessary to stop us. We go as fast as we can, but not so fast that we lose the power that we have.”

  Artemia went up to the horse and used a boost from the knight to saddle up on it. It was one thing to see the size of the monstrous, mythical horse—it felt like straddling an entire ship when she sat upon it. She couldn’t wait to feel it run free in the plains, to gallop in two days what she’d covered in ten. Even if it did not move quite as fast, it would be a remarkable improvement over what she had before.

  But is it enough to defeat Bahamut? Will five monsters defeat a beast as legendary as Bahamut?

  They will have to prove themselves yet. This was but a small test compared to the king of kings, the god of dragons.

  “Move!”

  The horse neighed, and with every gallop, it felt like the world beneath Artemia shook. Ifrit bellowed, Odin ran, Shiva floated, and the two birds soared above, the five mythical monsters of Iblis having come to support Artemia in her quest.

  Bahamut would fall. Hydor would become hers.

  And then what?

  For the first time since she started her journey, Artemia actually began to conceive of defeating the dragons as possible. Her arrogance and boldness had encouraged her to develop blinders to the dangers, but now only one remained. If a single mage could at least stall Bahamut from attacking humanity, what would that say about an entire legion of monsters?

  She imagined herself slaughtering Bahamut, her sword going through its chest as it had many other chests—both dragon and human. She imagined claiming its essence—what power would the greatest dragon of all have? If she went by the magi’s belief in magic, then this would provide internal magic, the ability to enhance one’s speed, strength, intelligence, and other personal factors. But surely, Bahamut would supply more. It would transcend category.

  It had to. For as much as the magi spoke of it in awed terms

  It didn’t matter. Even if Bahamut disappointed, she had more than enough power to mold Hydor into her own image.

  But… what would come next? Was power for the sake of power enough? Would what she did be enough? Would it make her forget all that she’d experienced and witnessed? Would it serve as the ultimate revenge that she’d long sought?

&
nbsp; Or would she become like Rufus, unable to overcome one’s past, a disgrace every day as predicted by the generation before it? So far, she had failed at that. She had never forgiven herself for her errors of the past. Her inability to obtain perfection had, at times, pushed her to the brink of madness. If she couldn’t do it right, she wanted the game destroyed.

  She shook the thoughts away as they made it to the top of the mountain, a more treacherous climb than she had anticipated due to the avalanche from the mage Romarus. She’d forgotten about him. But she didn’t care that she’d forgotten him—he’d done his purpose and now he had no more utility to her. If he somehow miraculously survived, she would see to it that one of her monsters killed him.

  She stared down the plains, hundreds of miles away from Dabira and then Caia. She decided she would give a little visit to Dabira first. She would show Roland what a true hunter looked like. She would show him and everyone else there that, once again, she’d proved those who doubted her wrong and that she had defeated Ragnor. Maybe she’d even give the town a little deja vu from six years ago.

  Yes, she decided, that would feel marvelous. She should at least strike fear into the hearts of the magi to remind them that they may worship the legendary dragons, but she was the one who controlled their power.

  “Go!” she yelled as her patience for the view ended.

  She and her five monsters bounded down the mountain and to the plains, leaving their entrapment within Ragnor’s temple and preparing to overtake the world of Hydor.

  CHAPTER 3: TETRA

  Grief.

  Sadness.

  Rage.

  Depression.

  Despair.

  Ennui.

  The moods which Tetra cycled through went through her mind at unpredictable rates. Ever since she’d left Zelda with the task to bury her husband—a task which she could not bring herself to do, a sort of punishment to herself for having metaphorically buried him as a lover all these decades—she could not say which mood would strike her at any given moment. Tetra could also not say which mood she would switch over to. All that she knew was that whichever emotion came to her, it would strike her with the force built up from decades of suppression. It would reach into the furthest depths possible for that given emotion, and then recede just as quickly.