“Your enthusiasm is very alarming, as is your announcement of your abilities. You are a friendly person, Luke, but you cannot trust everyone with your secrets,” the goddess warns him while touching Luke’s arm. “The point of my visit is that several gods have been watching you. I have been sent to converse with you on their behalf. We know that you desire to be a great hero and we believe that you will eventually reach your goal. You have many of the qualities and skills that a hero needs, but you lack the discipline that will bring you to the end of your journey without fail. In the end, I do not believe that you are mentally ready for the adventures that you seek.”
Luke looks insulted and marches up to the goddess without hesitation. He is a little taller than her, so he takes a step back in order to look her in the eye without having to bend down. He stares long and hard at the goddess without breaking eye contact. The half-elf attempts to speak once or twice, but no words come out. It is unclear to Zaria whether facing a god has caused his near-silence or he is simply unsure what to say.
“It is impressive that you can stand up to a goddess of my caliber. You are a brave boy, but you need more than that to succeed,” Zaria dryly states. “If it was my choice, I would give you more time to mature, but the choice is not mine. Please, do not mistake my statement as an obstacle to your success. I simply worry that you are being sent to a premature death, but it is out of my hands. I am merely a messenger this day.”
Luke takes a few more steps back as Stiletto walks over to lick his hand. “Why are the gods interested in me?”
Zaria conjures a high-back chair of silver with a thick, silk cushion. “You will find that answer eventually. I can only point you in the right direction. Your life’s journey is about to begin and it will be a long time before you reach the end of your path. That is if you are able to make it all the way down your path in the first place,” Zaria stoically explains, noticing that Luke is unfazed by her warning. “I won’t lie to you and say that it is predetermined that you will succeed or even live through the adventures ahead.”
Luke bends down to scratch Stiletto behind his ears. Zaria frowns and crosses her arms as Luke turns back to her. He silently nods and goes to get his backpack to pull out a brown, elven flute. Luke plays a few slow notes on the curvy flute, earning a response from a songbird before tucking the instrument into his tunic.
“How old are you, Luke?” Zaria asks.
“I turned eighteen on the ninth of Kruma,” Luke answers, his voice filling with mild concern. “That’s six months ago if I’ve been reading the sky correctly. Why do you ask?”
“Most adventurers start when they are older. Your youth is just another reason for me to have doubts about directing you toward your destiny,” she says as she slowly fades away. “Unfortunately, less patient gods will step in if I refuse to do this. Your path goes east and will lead you to the Hamilton Military Academy. A retired mercenary named Selenia Hamilton runs the academy. That will be where you find your adventure.”
“Wait a second. You forgot a few things!” Luke shouts at the sky. “How am I going to get inside the academy? I’ve heard of places like this! They won’t let me through the front door for free! Zaria! I’m too poor to afford this quest!” The only response he gets is some faint laughter from the pixies.
Luke tightens the fraying straps of his boots and gently rubs his legs. “Guess we’re on our own, Stiletto. At least the academy is in the direction we were already heading if I remember the map correctly. If nothing turns up and we can’t do anything at the academy then we can go into the Caster Swamp. I’ve heard all about the necrocasters, giltris, and other nasty monsters that living there. Sounds like there’s enough in that evil place to keep veteran warriors busy for a few days, which means I can finally find a challenge.”
Luke takes a deep breath and stretches before sprinting deep into Visindor Forest. Stiletto is at his heels, but the pace is very difficult for the lumbering dog to maintain for too long. Stiletto falls a few feet behind while Luke gracefully runs around trees and leaps over rocks that get in his way.
*****
“What is this important mission that Duke Solomon has for me?” asks a tall man in shiny platemail. The towering warrior stands in the middle of a clearing with the remains of a large campsite scattered around him. A gray stallion quietly grazes nearby while the shuddering messenger uses the beast’s saddle as an awkward chair. The messenger is incredibly pale and his bloodshot eyes rarely blink. It is clear that he has barely slept since escaping from Rodillen. He makes sure to take several deep breaths before handing a scroll to the Paladin.
“That scroll has a sketch of the person you are to protect,” the messenger says as the Paladin unrolls the scroll. “It’s a terrible picture, but all of the important features will be recognizable. I am sorry that I cannot go into any more detail out loud. We don’t know who or what could be listening, so I must be vague, sir.”
The Paladin turns to the messenger with a stern expression. “Who is this person? Has some vile villain captured him? I will use all my powers to rescue him and make sure that he is safely returned to your lord. You have my word as a Paladin of Ram. The god of war does not allow the weak to become his devoted, so you can rest assured that I am one of the strongest warriors in these parts.”
The messenger stares at the shiny warrior with a tired, numb expression. “I will take your word for it. I have another scroll that explains your mission. Again, I do not wish to speak of the particulars here. All I can say is that the life of Duke Solomon’s heir is in danger. You will be going to a military academy as a guest instructor. Nobody in the academy will be aware of your true mission and it must remain that way for the heir’s safety.”
“I excel at secret missions. There was one time that I pretended to be a guard for a treasury in order to apprehend a great guild master. That thief did not have the slightest idea that a Paladin was waiting for him,” the Paladin gloats, tucking the picture into an armor compartment. “Also, I have years of experience instructing young warriors in the ways of combat. Many of my students have died a hero’s death in the thick of battle, which is the sign of a great battle teacher. I promise that during this mission I will be watching out for this young man and protect him with my life. That will be both my first and second priority. Is there anything else of importance?”
The messenger takes a drink from a waterskin before getting to his feet. An old heron suddenly bursts from the forest, startling the jittery man. His loud shriek echoes throughout the forest while he scurries behind the Paladin. He gets his composure back as he watches the bird fly toward the distant lake.
“My apologies, sir, but this mission has done great damage to my nerves and I am only too happy to hand it over to you. Between you and me, I wish you would take this mission with less bravado,” the messenger requests, struggling to choke down his fear. “I regret to inform you that a persistent Lich is trying to capture the heir. We have been able to hide the location of the heir for some time, but this creature is closing in on the academy. We do not know what kinds of agents he uses to get his information, so you must be cautious. Are you willing to take on this mission with such a monster in the shadows?”
“Ha!” the Paladin exclaims. He picks up an enormous broadsword and a shield with a rearing bull emblazoned on it.
“A Lich is nothing compared to the denizens of the Chaos Void that I have defeated in my time,” the Paladin declares in a booming voice while swinging his sword in mock combat. “There was one time when I came across a masterless Spurge. The bulbous demon was attacking a pig farm just outside of Gods’ Voice when I happened to be passing by. It took me days to defeat that demon because I had no way to minimize its regenerative abilities. I eventually managed to trap the monster in a nearby cave and slew it before it could escape. Then, I sealed the cave to make sure nobody could revive the demon. Let me tell you that it was a fight worthy of my title.”
“I guess I should give you the other sc
roll, so you have more information on this mission,” the messenger says, trying to hold back his nervous laughter.
The man hands the second scroll to the Paladin moments before another noise cuts through the natural sounds of Visindor. The noise reminds both men of shoveling dirt, but it is much louder and coming from below their feet. The two men look around in time to see the stallion dragged underground by decaying hands.
“Oh no! They found me! We have to hide!” the messenger cries before he clambers up the nearest tree. From the hole that the stallion was pulled into, several rotting corpses rise to shamble toward the Paladin.
The Paladin is less than impressed by his enemies. “Ha! They are just zombies. Their rotting flesh and their stench of the grave have no effect on a warrior with my experience and courage. I have slain thousands of them in my lifetime. There is not a zombie in the world that could defeat a seasoned Paladin of my caliber. Take this!”
The Paladin lifts his broadsword over his head and a searing blast of light erupts from the crossguard. Three of the zombies burst into white flames while the others turn away until the light is gone. A low snicker can be heard from the forests, but neither of the men can locate the origin of the noise.
The armored warrior stares at the zombies, his confusion growing. “This is not right. My power should have destroyed them all. These are not normal zombies. So, I suppose more basic tactics are in order. Charge!”
The Paladin leaps into the moaning cluster of zombies. He hacks and slashes away while the monsters beat dents into his shiny armor. The messenger watches from the tree branches until he feels the tree suddenly lurch to one side. He looks down to see a pair of zombies trying to knock the tree down.
“I hate my life,” the messenger mutters as the tree begins to fall. Luckily, his tunic gets caught on another tree, tangling him in its branches. The zombies follow their prey and attempt to knock this much thicker tree down.
The Paladin continues to hack and slash at the undead when he hears a horse neighing behind him. With a hopeful smile on his face, he turns to see the bleeding corpse of his loyal stallion galloping out of the ground. His face turns white as the undead horse stops at the edge of the gaping hole and stares at its former master. Blood oozes out of its open throat and chunks of flesh are missing from its belly and hindquarters.
“This is not possible!” the Paladin shouts in frustration. “Nothing can create a zombie so quickly. What dark magic is at work here? Show yourselves, foul demons!”
The Paladin turns to defend against the charge of the zombie horse when a stabbing pain hits him in the back of his neck. He drops his shield in order to reach behind him, feebly grabbing whatever punched through the chainmail protecting his armor’s weak point. He feels a long, wooden shaft and sharp feathers sticking out of his neck. The Paladin can feel his blood begin to churn inside him, magically being expelled from his body.
“This is not possible! I am a Paladin!” he screams, blood spewing from his eyes. The Paladin is unable to see the stallion charging at him. Within seconds, he is crushed to death by his once loyal steed.
“Cessia protect me. Cessia protect me,” the messenger whimpers as the tree falls to the ground. He bounces off a flexible branch and lands unharmed on the soft ground. The zombies are almost on top of him when a flash of motion cuts their heads off from behind. Both bodies fall on the messenger who scrambles away from the foul-smelling remains.
“Are you hurt?” Luke asks as he steps over the twitching bodies. Stiletto is busy quietly watching the other zombies feast on the Paladin. He barks as soon as the monsters get to their feet and turn toward Luke.
“Run into the forest and I’ll find you!” Luke yells as he calmly moves toward the zombies. “Watch over him, Stiletto! I’ll be fine!”
The undead horse is the first to reach him, managing to knock Luke into a large oak with a swing of its bloody head. The half-elf flips onto a low branch and leaps onto the back of the horse, ignoring the mild pain in his back. Luke slices its head off before leaping toward the other groaning zombies. He spins in mid-air, hacking two of the zombies down. He gracefully lands in a crouch in front of the others.
“No time for showing off here,” Luke whispers, his sabers rapidly cut through the remaining undead. Every fluid move that Luke makes smoothly melts into the next until all of the zombies have become twitching pieces in the blackening grass.
“His speed and agility are incredible for someone so young,” the messenger says, watching the short battle. “It’s like he is made out of water or is one with the air around him.”
Luke is about to turn and yell at the lingering messenger when he sees a shadow move on the other side of the clearing. He is ready to chase it when the shadow fires a black arrow at him. The arrow is barely deflected by his sabers, landing in a nearby tree with an echoing thud. Only Stiletto is watching when the bolt burrows into the tree and all of the leaves begin to turn black. By the time Luke reaches the far side of the clearing, the shadow is gone, leaving a deep sword gouge in a boulder.
Luke sprints back to the messenger, his senses still focused on his surroundings. “This is a very dangerous place. We have to go now before something worse than zombies arrives. Come on.”
“I whole—heartedly agree, young man,” the messenger says, obediently following Luke.
A silent hour passes in the clearing before one of the decapitated zombies explodes and the Lich rises out of the bloody mist. He can barely believe what he saw through his scrying. He carefully inspects the area and smiles at the carnage around him. The zombies quickly rot at his touch as he checks their fresh injuries.
“The Hellfire Elf did well against the Paladin, but this forest tracker's intrusion is something that I did not foresee. I should have told my pet to remove all threats instead of naming specific targets,” the Lich whispers as if he is talking to an invisible ally. “No matter. This warrior is just a boy who stumbled into the area. Cessia must have used him to save her follower. Still, if the boy continues to get in my way, I will have my assassin take care of him. The heir of Duke Solomon will be ours, but for now I will simply watch events continue and let my pet do his job.” He rips the cracked skull of the Paladin out of the trampled corpse and pockets it before sinking into the ground.
*****
Luke finally stops running when he comes to a river. He turns to look at the sobbing messenger who is limping a few feet behind him. Stiletto trots behind the stranger, keeping a cautious eye on him. The protective dog goes for a drink, but continues to watch the messenger with an occasional turn of its head. Stiletto barks as a small river shark leaps out of the river and grabs a passing sparrow. The noise startles the nervous messenger again while Luke watches the current take the scattered feathers away.
“Don’t worry. River sharks would never attack anything bigger than a crow or a young rabbit,” Luke says, taking a seat on a tree stump. Stiletto saunters over to Luke and lies down in the grass.
“You were incredible back there. I have never seen anyone fight like you,” the messenger declares, a sudden surge of excitement in his heart. “You destroyed those zombies without wasting a single motion. Young man, you are so much better than that Paladin ever was. More importantly, you don’t seem to be as annoying and full of yourself as that man was. May I ask where you learned such an amazing style?” The man suddenly hugs Luke and kisses him on the cheek.
“Calm down there! I was taught the Whirlwind of Uli style by my grandfather, Talos Callindor. My name is Luke Callindor,” the half-elf replies, struggling with the clingy messenger. “There’s no need to invade my personal space. Stop it! I told you what you wanted! Let me go!”
“You mean the great forest tracker, Talos ‘Doubleblade’ Callindor? He is your grandfather?” the messenger asks, his smile growing wider. “This is perfect! The Paladin is dead, so I need to find another great warrior. Cessia must be smiling on me today. You are a great hero, right?”
Luke finally manage
s to push the grateful messenger off of him and takes a few steps back. He stares at the man with a confused expression before he remembers that Zaria sent him in this direction. A charming smile crosses his face as he grabs the messenger’s hand and pumps it up and down in a firm handshake.
“I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need,” Luke happily announces. Stiletto rolls his eyes and goes to sit by the river. “I have been wondering these woods for a long time now and I have fought many . . . uh . . . things.”
“Such as? You are rather young, but I’m not one to make such a judgment when it comes to heroes,” the messenger admits, taking several deep breaths. “Maybe you can give me some examples of your deeds.”
“I started with stopping goblin attacks and the occasional zombie infestation in the surrounding areas. You know, the usual jobs that all warriors begin with,” Luke humbly explains as he rubs the pommels of his swords against his palms. “My first big adventure was rescuing a priestess from a band of kobolds that wanted to use her for a sacrifice. I went to save her only to find that they had an ogre with them, which I really wasn’t ready for it. I won, but the priestess had to drag me back to the village where I spent the next two days being healed. Then there was the time I was ambushed by a pack of giltris and spent a few days as their prisoner. I escaped by using swamp mud to hide myself from them since their vision is based on body heat. They almost caught me when it started raining, but I left some pit traps and snares behind to keep them busy. Lately, I’ve been doing small skirmish control around the area since the goblins have been extremely active over the last few days. It feels good to take it easy, but I’m getting rather . . . restless.”
Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere) Page 3
