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

by Stephen Allan

  “Thank you,” he said to the four tombstones, legends of the war which had ultimately led to the salvation of humanity, peace among men and magi, and the near-eradication of all existential threats to humanity. “Thank you. I love you.”

  He thought about all that they had done to put him in a spot to succeed with Yeva. How Rey, his mother, and Auron had always protected him from evil and shown him what he needed to do for the duration of his life. How Abe had always guided him down the right path. How all four of them had shown him what being a good man, being a leader took.

  How they all showed him what love meant.

  Satisfied, he stood up, grabbing the small blue shard around his neck. He remembered how he had taken that shard and broken it down even further, distributing it to men in his army who would willingly fight if the need ever arose. Nearly a hundred pieces had come from that one piece of the essence, and now its risk of becoming a threat to humanity had shrunk even more. He thought of who had given that shard to him, and he departed with Yeva.

  In doing so, he left behind the graves of his family to embark on a lifelong journey that he believed would continue even after his death. It was a job that perhaps many dreamed of, few did, and even fewer understood the burden that it carried. But it was not a job to Eric. It was a calling.

  He was the king of Hydor.

  EPILOGUE, PART 2

  Zelda rode Emera to the land where Dabira had once stood. Ragnor had filled the land with monsters, but thanks to some magic, she had made the small island surrounded by the sea and a relatively narrow river free of monsters.

  In the two years since her victory over Ragnor, she had sought to make the land a proper burial ground for all the magi who had fallen. Rather than give them mere pebbles, she crafted careful crosses. The arduous process had taken her the entire span of time to complete, but she had saved the last one for this day, a day that she knew would carry much emotion but also much gratitude.

  Carrying Tetra’s robes, the last that remained of the mage, she knelt beside Garo’s grave. It got a little easier every time she visited the site, but it still caused her eyes to water. If she wanted to, she could’ve let herself drown in tears.

  But on this day, she hadn’t come to dwell in sorrow, but to rejoice in the gratitude she had for meeting the two magi most responsible for giving her the power, responsibility, and awareness that she now possessed.

  First, she read Garo’s grave. “Here lies Garo. A Legend of the War. A Hero of Magi. A Husband. A Friend.” She had chosen the words herself, for only Yeva knew of Garo otherwise—and she had too many duties as queen of Hydor to attend to this particular task. Her lips curled up in a smile as she read the grave, even as the bottom of her eye twitched. She had never found truer words to describe Garo.

  She then turned to Tetra’s grave which had everything ready, save for her robes. On her tombstone were the words, “Here lies Tetra. A Legend of the War. A Warrior of the Magi. A Wife. A Friend.” She wondered for some time if she should have made the two tombs more distinct in their epitaphs, but the two complemented each other so well it felt only appropriate.

  With the most caution she could muster, Zelda gently placed the robes in the ground. She stood, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, thought of all the times she had shared with Tetra, and then opened her eyes.

  “Has it really been two years, Tetra?” Zelda asked with a sniffle. “Two years since we saved the world. We accomplished what you set out to do, you know. We gave the magi peace. I know it came at a terrible cost, but I know you see this. I know you see the peace we have as magi. And I know you would be so proud.”

  She let out a short laugh, trying to fight off tears.

  “I know you and Garo are with Chrystos now. I’m sorry it took so long to give you the proper burial, but I wanted to make sure you had it right. You didn’t deserve to die so far north. You deserved to rest for eternity with the man you loved. But we had to save the world first. We had to make your vision come true. And then I had to make sure the land around you had the proper protection and the magi you helped protect had proper burials.”

  She laughed again, but this time, tears fell down her cheeks.

  “Sorry it took so long. I know you’d give me grief, and maybe it’s deserved. I know you liked things done quickly. But I know you also liked them done right. And we’ve done you right, Tetra. We’ve done you right.”

  She sought for more words but struggled to find them. You’ve said enough. You saw her vision of peace come true. Her soul can rest now. She took a deep breath, pushed back the tears, and said her final words to Tetra.

  “Tetra. May your soul find peace with Chrystos.”

  With that, she gave a grieving but gracious smile and turned back to Emera, who gave a gentle groan.

  “It’s all right, Emera,” Zelda said. “Tetra knows peace.”

  “Are you all right, Master Zelda?”

  “I’m fine,” Zelda said. “Hydor is fine. The magi are fine. That’s what matters.”

  “Very good, Master Zelda.”

  “Emera,” Zelda said, exasperated, but it brought a laugh to her. Someday, she’d get Emera to stop calling her master, but for now, it felt kind of endearing.

  She took one last glance at the graveyard before her. So many graves. So many lives lost.

  But it had not been in vain.

  The magi of Caia. The magi of Dabira. The Shadows of the Empire. Roland. Maria. The council. All the residents of Dabira. Garo. Tetra.

  They had lost their lives, but in the struggle, they had brought eternal peace to themselves and the magi.

  “Where to, Master Zelda?”

  “The Ruined City,” Zelda said. While she could still think the name Caia, changing its name had given her some measure of distance and closure.

  Emera rose with a cry. Zelda looked over the river and at the horde of monsters which seemed intent on crossing the river. But as long as Zelda lived, as long as her magic kept a preventative barrier up for anything with the magic of Ragnor from entering, she did not fear them.

  She flew to her old home and landed just outside what had once marked the western gate, the one that she had slid out of so many times. Here, a bit of a ways further to the beach, one single grave stood. Zelda dismounted Emera, patted her neck, and walked forward with a smile. She knelt at the grave, placing her hand on it.

  “Mama,” Zelda said, smiling at the name. Two years had made her grow up, and she hadn’t heard anyone else use such a name for their mothers by that age. But it brought back pleasant memories. “Mother” sounded too formal. “Mom” didn’t describe her. But her “Mama” was someone she would always think on positively.

  “I just laid Tetra to rest, finally,” Zelda said. “I’m sure she’s with you, telling her that I need to hurry up my burial rites.”

  She laughed again. She’d long ago laid her mother to rest. The day after she and Eric had finished scattering the crystals, uniting in the center of the very town that had caused her so much grief, she’d gone and buried her mother, giving her the proper rites.

  Yet she still liked to visit as much as she could. It kept her feeling grounded and reminded her of the good in the world.

  “You know, it’s funny,” she said. “Tetra is finally buried, and in some ways, I guess this is the end of her story. But I don’t think so. The legends of the war, the legends of the magi, the legends of Hydor never die, at least not their stories. I have a feeling I may speak to Tetra and encounter her once more. I know, it’s crazy. But our whole lives, they’re just… well…”

  She couldn’t finish, not because she felt emotionally overwhelmed, but because nothing could capture just how truly crazy things had been. An entire empire had sought her death. A guild had sought to distort the balance of Hydor—and actually succeeded. The incarnation of the devil had risen.

  And somehow, not only had Zelda survived, she’d been the one to end the madness.

  She had no idea if the future wou
ld hold such craziness. In the short term, she couldn’t see it.

  But she had no idea how long she would live. The fact that Garo and Tetra had lived over two hundred years suggested to her that if she wanted to, she could live at least three hundred. Maybe if she did, she would change her identity. Maybe she would do it for fun. Maybe, out of necessity, she would do it to save Hydor once more. Evil never quite went away entirely.

  But neither did good. So long as there was life, there was hope. And so long as there was hope, there was a chance to vanquish evil.

  Zelda rose. She squinted her eyes as she thought she saw two dragons approaching against the setting sun. After a few seconds, when the wings came into view, she smiled.

  “What are you doing here?” Zelda asked.

  “We got tired of waiting for you to come visit,” Eric said. “So we decided to come visit you instead.”

  “You may need to meditate, Zelda, but we need to see you,” Yeva said as she embraced her fellow mage. “We hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” Zelda said. “I never would.”

  The three passed by Mama’s grave and made their way to the beach. Eric, having bought some fresh fish, let the dragons cook and supply a warm beach fire.

  Their conversation touched on a variety of topics, from the beginning of their first meetings to the most surprising moments of their journey. They knew their journey had not ended, not even close. They could barely call themselves adults.

  But for what they had experienced, they had a lifetime of stories. And they all knew for as long as they existed, even if their paths took them separate ways, even if time spent apart spanned a greater time than time spent together, any one of the three could reconnect with the other, and they would immediately come to the other.

  After a few hours, Yeva and Eric had fallen asleep. Zelda, too, felt ready to drift into a gentle night.

  Just before she went to bed, she felt a gentle evening breeze from the ocean pass over her face and blow her hair behind her. Though she did not know why, she felt her mother’s spirit as she closed her eyes. Humming the tune that her mother had taught her long ago, she sang her favorite song before drifting off into her well-deserved rest.

  “You are the star of this world, my little girl,

  Little girl, the gift of my life,

  You will do great things, my shining pearl,

  My shining pearl, the ender of strife,

  You shall be a guiding light, my sweet angel,

  My sweet angel, the gift of my life.

  Zelda, my beautiful daughter,

  Zelda, my grace from above,

  May you live in peace,

  May you live in love.”

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  To better understand how this book came to be, you have to go back to the past… to see the future of Hydor.

  In the fall of 2016, I had just wrapped up my first series, “The Kastori Chronicles.” I enjoyed blending sci-fi and fantasy as Star Wars did and continues to do so well, but I wanted something that felt like traditional fantasy. Something that had magic, dragons, gods, wizards—the usual.

  So I created a world called Hydor, blending Hyrule from “The Legend of Zelda” and Mordor from “The Lord of the Rings” from an etymological perspective and, perhaps, a world-building perspective. The world had magi, it had a kingdom, it had gray in terms of who was good and who was evil. It had this fantastic setting.

  Which begged the question—how did we get here, several hundred years before?

  About a dozen chapters in, I came to a part of the story where a character gets a history lesson. I won’t copy and paste the whole thing here because, well, you just read that history come to life in the past three books, but the cliff notes version was “centuries ago, a great war involving magical crystals, dragons, and gods took place.”

  A lot of fantasy falls under that description, or at least a significant portion of those words, so you could be forgiven for thinking it was a cliche line. But the more I wondered “well, what did that war look like? What did those dragons look like?” the more dragged into the story I got.

  So I decided I wouldn’t start in media res like (once again) Star Wars. I would start with the origin story.

  Thank God I picked “Shadows of the Empire” instead of the original working title “Dragon Prequel I.”

  At first, I thought the story would revolve around Eric. His was the first chapter I wrote, and I put a lot of myself into him. No, I didn’t have anyone in my family murdered by a conniving, manipulative superior (nor a legendary dragon, as it turns out). But the idea of being consumed by a single idea, of dedicating your life to something… and then questioning if it fulfills anything besides your own selfish needs was one I could relate to and still relate to. Eric finds his purpose in this book, but I’m not sure in real life it’s a question we ever truly answer until the very end.

  But then I dived into the story of Zelda, and the potential felt limitless.

  Which… was actually a bit of a problem. The last thing you want to do is create Superwoman in this story, because then, the rise of Ragnor or the threat of Bahamut mean nothing. She’ll just cast a few spells, call it a day, and Hydor is forever safe. The end.

  That’s not a satisfying story. It’s an inspiring one, sure, and while there’s something to be said for creating female idols, there’s also something to be said for creating someone realistic. Zelda is not going to turn into a Jedi who achieves perfect balance, at least not for the majority of the series. She’s not going to reach Nirvana. She’s not going to just forget and forgive what happened to her before she realized her potential.

  She’s going to have some underlying anger, sadness, and weariness of the world. Darkness within the light is as much a theme in this series as anything, and I’ve heard from a few people that that makes this series too dark or mature for kids. While I am not going to pretend I’m not biased, I would disagree with that assessment.

  It’s precisely because there is darkness in light that makes this story hopeful and good for kids. The light is not the light without darkness, just as the day is not the day without the night. I could go on and on with more metaphors (summer and winter, peace and war, love and hate, etc.), but I think the point is made. It’s the ability to acknowledge the darkness within, accept its presence, and then let the light shine through despite the darkness that makes this so compelling.

  Someone who has all light and no darkness is one of two things—hopelessly naive and inexperienced when it comes to the world (which is, to a tiny extent, what Zelda is in the opening pages of this series) or an absolute deity, the embodiment of perfection. The second one might make for a compelling religious figure, but they’re not going to make for compelling literature. It is my hope that you agreed with this and that because of that, you shared the legend of Zelda (pun absolutely intended) with your kids, should you have any.

  ***

  As I saw Zelda and Eric’s story intertwining, it’s always fascinating to see what I discover that I didn’t know in my outlining. Here are some things I knew when I first crafted the series:

  -There were three legendary dragons, and Eric would not encounter the true Ragnor until the end

  -Artemia was the murderer of his mother and sister

  -Zelda would ultimately play the role of savior of Hydor

  Here’s what I didn’t discover until I got deep into the series, among too many things to list fully:

  -Artemia also murdered Eric’s father, aka her brother

  -Zelda would grapple with the issue of isolation and feeling alone. I always knew the darkness within her would be something to fight, but I didn’t consider her isolation because of her being the embodiment of a god until I had her remain behind to bury all who fell at Dabira

  -Eric would encounter a fake Ragnor at the end of Demons of the Hunter. My original text had him encountering the real Ragnor but in a state of deep slumber. While that book currently has a bit of a cliffha
nger ending, that one felt even less complete, so I put something in as a red herring.

  You may notice that there are several avenues left unexplored in this series, as well as several questions left unanswered. What becomes of the seas? What about the kingdom? Will Iblis rise again?

  I’ll give you one that should answer the question of “is this it?”

  What, exactly, did Zelda see in those visions when she touched the essences of Bahamut and Indica?

  Well, I know the answer to that (I wouldn’t have put them in otherwise!).

  No, this is not the end of Hydor. More books will come. You have not heard the last of Eric, Yeva, Zelda, and others.

  But, just as the new Star Wars trilogy has the old trio but focuses on new characters, so, too, will the next books. The hero’s journey, as it were, has come to a close for many of the characters in this book. Just as Garo and Tetra had to step aside for the new generation, so too will many characters in the next trilogy. (In case you’re wondering, there will be six more books taking place in the future. Depending on demand, I may have prequels or spinoffs, but as far as books in chronological order goes, there’s two more trilogies left.)

  So with that close of the opening trilogy, there are many people I have to thank.

  First, thanks to my beta readers. Janell, Brandy, Michael, Matt, Stephanie, and Debi. You gave me the confidence to know that I did not write fantasy books no one would read while kindly pointing out any typos or confusing sentences on your read-throughs. I also appreciate you letting me know when my plot twists worked and when you saw them so far in advance you couldn’t call them twists.

  Thanks to my cover designer, Alerim. I like to think I’m a good writer and storyteller, but she is so good at book cover design that she’s going to be designing some best-selling books someday (hopefully mine!). She’s great to work with and she’s going to take off big time someday. Thank you, Alerim!