Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  *****

  To avoid the brewing argument between Luke and Selenia, Nimby had slipped away as soon as he returned to the academy. He decided it would be much better to relax outside the wall and wait for things to blow over. However, the halfling didn’t expect to be waiting for so long. It had been close to two hours before he had seen any of his friends or heard word of Selenia being seen at her classes. He eventually tired of his yo-yo tricks and began wandering around the killing field. Nimby cautiously stops at the western wall where he hears an occasional grunt followed by a dull thud.

  Following the sounds, Nimby is surprised to find Kellia hurling four twenty-pound spheres of metal. The halfling watches as she repeatedly throws the dull gray orbs about thirty feet then goes to gather them in one trip. Her clothes are drenched in sweat and she looks like she is about to collapse as she picks up the heavy projectiles. She is so tired that she doesn’t notice Nimby until he is standing next to her.

  “Shouldn’t you be with your friends while they get chewed out by Selenia?” she asks before she hurls an orb. It lands thirty-seven feet away with a distant thud.

  “I took the wiser option of sneaking away and letting Luke deal with it,” Nimby answers, grinning proudly. “Besides, I’m allergic to angry confrontation and accepting blame for my mistakes.”

  “Good for you,” Kellia blandly mutters. “Now, please leave me alone. I’m trying to practice.” She switches arms and hurls an orb sixty feet. Nimby turns to see that her other arm is hanging limp at her side.

  “It looks like you tore something in your shoulder. Shoulder injuries seem to be the most common injury this semester. Although, that’s better than the semester of broken ribs when a barbarian was teaching boxing,” Nimby says, trying to get a smile from the girl. “Guess it’s time you stopped and went to the infirmary.”

  Kellia slumps against the academy wall, sliding to the ground while pulling an amber potion off a belt loop. She drinks it and lets the magic slowly repair her shoulder. The sweat disappears from her body and her ebony hair emits the invigorating scent of fresh rain. She tucks the empty bottle into her pocket and tries to go back to practicing. Flexing her shoulder, she decides to let it rest for a few more minutes.

  “Never practice without a rejuvenation potion or two,” she advises the halfling. “My father sends me a case once a month, so I’m fine doing this kind of workout. Now, will you leave me alone or do I have to make you leave?”

  Nimby stares curiously at the heavy orbs and begins stroking his chin. She glares at him with no reaction from the scheming halfling. Accepting that she can't get rid of him, Kellia lets out a sigh and starts doing some single arm push-ups. Her eyes never wander from Nimby who continues to stare at her.

  Running a hand through his brown hair, Nimby finally reveals his thoughts. “How can a farmer afford potions of that caliber? Healing potions may be cheap, but rejuvenation potions are far too expensive for common people to buy in bulk. For a farmer’s daughter, you sure get a lot of special treatment.”

  “My father gets paid in potions by Duke Solomon,” Kellia claims, stopping her workout and pushing herself into a crouch. “We supply his army with milk, meat, and vegetables. We get three cases of medicinal potions per week thanks to that agreement. Not all farmers are poor and simple.”

  “Very true,” Nimby concedes. He pulls his yo-yo out and begins playing with it again. “Guess Duke Solomon isn’t as bad as I’ve heard if he’s willing to give expensive potions to farmers.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Everyone loves Duke Solomon and he is very generous,” Kellia argues, a fire burning in her sapphire eyes. “I’ve heard he is rather forgetful and uses the temples to help him decide political matters. Yet, every leader in history has had a few faults and the temples have always had a hand in politics. Nobody wants to anger the gods, so there isn’t any reason Duke Solomon should be any different.”

  “Those eccentricities are not what I’m talking about,” Nimby evasively says, avoiding eye contact with the girl.

  “Nothing bad has ever been said about him that was proven to be true,” Kellia states, getting to her feet. “He is a good man and everyone in his kingdom only has the best to say about him. Nobody has any reason to speak ill of him.”

  Nimby snorts before muttering, “None of the big people, anyway.”

  Kellia grabs the halfling by his curly, brown hair and picks him so that he is at face level with her. Her voice is a furious growl that puts him on edge. “What’s that supposed to mean, Nimby?”

  “He is an incredible bastard toward small folk like gnomes and halflings,” Nimby explains, defiantly staring into Kellia’s eyes. Nimby slips out of Kellia’s grasp and rubs his sore scalp. “Duke Solomon takes credit for gnomish inventions and makes sure that there are no powerful halflings in any of his favored cities. The best that a halfling can hope for is to become a high priest because the Duke can’t prevent upward mobility in the temples. This is why so many halflings in the kingdom of Serab are thieves, bards, and sailors. None of them have any kind of social power even though there are cities where halflings outnumber elves and humans. These facts are obvious if you listen to local lore. The kingdom of Serab is entirely racist against anyone shorter than a dwarf.”

  Kellia’s cheeks go red and her fists clench as she stares open-mouthed at the halfling. She picks up a metal orb, hurling it as far as she can, but it still doesn’t calm her down. Nimby can clearly hear her counting to ten as the dust settles around the distant orb. The counting seems to have less effect than the violent throwing the projectile.

  Still shaking with fury, Kellia whirls to face the halfling. “You lying halfling! Duke Solomon is a good man and would never treat anyone like that unless they deserved it. This is just one of your stupid pranks to get under my skin, Nimby. Racial issues like this are not something to be made fun of and I will have no part in this insulting debate.”

  “Face it, Kellia. Duke Solomon is nothing more than a bigoted, money-loving jackass who would sooner shake an ogre’s hand than give even a single coin to a starving halfling,” Nimby contends, a charming smirk crossing his face. “We should all be lucky that he passes away soon.” The smirk vanishes as Kellia reaches out, snatching Nimby off his feet by his neck. She grinds her teeth as she begins to spin around with him. Nimby is confused until Kellia screams and hurls him over the academy wall.

  “Never talk about my father that way again!” she hollers as Nimby disappears over the wall.

  As he starts his descent, Nimby grins with pride at finding the heir. His only regret is that he didn’t think of this plan when he had Luke to hide behind. A dorm roof quickly stops his descent and he finds himself tumbling out of control along the wooden planks. With a final bounce on his head, Nimby flies off the roof. He is about to crash to the ground when a swift figure moves beneath him. He barely makes out Luke’s face as the half-elf leaps up the academy wall and catches him in mid-air.

  “Why can’t you ever enter or leave through a door?” Luke asks as he gracefully lands. He grabs some fallen leaves and presses them over the bleeding bump on Nimby’s head.

  “I found her, Luke. I know who the heir is,” Nimby quickly rambles, his vision suddenly swimming. “Owie. Windemere spinning. Gonna vomit. Let me show you who it is.” His excitement gets the better of him and he scrambles out of Luke’s arms. As soon as he hits the ground, Nimby collapses to his hands and knees.

  “Don’t tell me he got caught in the girls’ locker room,” Fritz jokes as he joins them. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about my peeping spot. Now, I have to find another way to entertain myself. You always have to ruin stuff for the rest of us, Nimby.”

  “He’s got a concussion and a very bad head wound. I’m going to take him to the infirmary,” Luke replies, gently picking his friend up again.

  “Wait. You have to protect Kellia. She’s the one we’ve been looking for,” Nimby urgently declares as Luke begins to walk away
with him. “I got her mad and she hurled me over the wall. But I found out that she is Duke Solomon’s heir. She’s just over that wall. I swear that I’m telling the truth, guys. I really don’t feel so good.”

  Luke stops and turns to Fritz. “Even though Kellia wasn’t on our list, we should check his story. She isn’t even a first year, but maybe that was a lie that they fed the messenger. She might be acting strange after this, so we can get some answers from her without any trouble. I’ll meet up with you once I get Nimby some medical attention. Good luck with her. If she did this to Nimby for talking, I can only imagine what she’ll do to you for hitting on her.”

  Fritz bows low and pulls a flower out of his pocket. “Trust me, good sir. I shall be on my best behavior. Nary a woman alive can resist the charm of Fritz Warrenberg for too long. We’ll be waiting for you, but I can’t promise that she will keep her hands off me.” At that he turns on his heels and leaves to find Kellia.

  Luke rolls his eyes and slowly makes his way toward the infirmary. He gets a few yards before Nimby suddenly vomits on his shirt.

  “Son of a! That is disgusting! It’s going to take me a little longer meet up with you, Fritz!” Luke shouts in frustration. “I need to burn this shirt!”

  *****

  “What do you want? Are you going to pick up where your friend left off?” Kellia snaps when she sees Fritz walking toward her. He stops a few feet away and pulls out his pipe to start smoking.

  “I don’t plan on getting you angry,” Fritz promises, puffing out a few simple rings that weave around him. “Is it true what Nimby told me? You’re the daughter of Duke Solomon and the future leader of Serab. Definitely the last person I would even consider as a future ruler, but who am I to judge?”

  Kellia takes a deep breath before letting a small smile cross her face. “My father says the same thing. The royal court doesn’t understand me and I know they wish I were a boy instead of a girl. They claim it would explain why I like fighting and why I don’t act like a proper lady of nobility.”

  Fritz walks over to take her hand, but she quickly pulls it away. “I guess nobles don’t like tomboys. You know, I’m more than willing to let you explain yourself. Why do you act the way you do?”

  “I guess since you and your friends know the truth, I might as well spill the rest to help clear your questions,” Kellia says, her voice becoming distant and wistful. “My mother was the first wife of Duke Solomon. Unknown to the masses, she wasn’t a noblewoman. She wasn’t even from Serab. There is an island in the Cerascent Isles where friendly giants live. My mother was a descendant from the union between a human merchant and a female giant. So, she was the size of an average human and had the strength of a giant. She was one of the island’s strongest and wildest hunters.” A few tears appear in the corner of her eyes, but she swiftly wipes them away. “My father met her when he was traveling Cerascent as a diplomat. She returned to Serab with him and they married soon after he ascended to the throne. Ten years later, she died giving birth to me. I was told so many stories about her that I began acting like her. None of the refinement lessons helped control me, so my dad sent me here to learn restraint and discipline. He said that if I couldn’t be a proper lady of nobility then I could at least learn how to become a disciplined woman of strength.”

  “Why not let Selenia and the other teachers know who you are?” Fritz asks, tucking his pipe away. The smoke rings begin to glow red as they stick to the gnome.

  “Simple. I would get special treatment, which I’ll get enough of when I become the Duchess of Serab,” Kellia explains, her back to the gnome. “If they knew who I really was then the teachers would be so careful with me that I would never get what I want out of this academy. Besides, it is a pleasure to be myself and not be looked at as the heir of Duke Solomon. It isn’t like I’m in any danger here. I have a bodyguard hidden in the academy and my father only told his most loyal advisors about my attendance at this academy.” She starts packing away the metal orbs and wipes her brow.

  His strength increased by the magic smoke, Fritz tackles Kellia to the ground an instant before an arrow pierces the air where her head used to be. She scrambles backwards as Fritz turns around to see the Hellfire Elf sprinting out of the forest, quickly crossing the killing field. The gnome is too scared to cast a spell before he is savagely kicked into the academy wall. The impact of Fritz’s body creates a deep dent in the wall where Fritz passes out. Drawing its sword, the demon turns toward Kellia. She makes a quick dash to get away, failing to notice the long arrow stuck in the wall in front of her. The terrified girl slams throat-first into the arrow and collapses to the ground, gasping for air.

  “Stay away! Don’t come any closer! Somebody help me!” she screams, ignoring the pain from talking.

  “You will be dead before any help arrives,” the Hellfire Elf snarls, lifting the Chaoswind sword above its head and moving to slash down at her.

  Kellia closes her eyes and wishes that she had been a more refined daughter for her father. She prays for all of the gods to send her back to Gods’ Voice, but she knows that this will be where she dies. Her silent prayers are broken by a stiff breeze carrying the scent of fresh vomit.

  The shriek of metal sliding on metal suddenly rings in her ears. Kellia timidly opens her eyes to see two blades crossed in front of her face. The Chaoswind pushes against them, only to be pushed back. She turns to find Luke standing above her, pushing with all his strength against the demon. His legs are braced against the academy wall for extra leverage, his flexing muscles straining and quivering. With a roar, Luke twists the demon off-balance and shoulder rushes it in the stomach. The Hellfire Elf stumbles back with a leering grin, giving Kellia a chance to scramble out from between the two warriors.

  “Run and hide! I can handle this thing!” Luke shouts while the Hellfire Elf cracks its neck. Kellia faints where she is as Luke rolls out of the way of the Hellfire Elf.

  “Good. I would have hated to hunt her down again after I dispose of you,” growls the demon, swinging the Chaoswind at Luke with terrifying force and speed. “My master will reward me for destroying you. Your death will be one of my greatest triumphs. I can end the Callindor lineage.”

  The clanging of swords echoes throughout the entire killing field. Every impact sends Luke skidding backwards, his arms barely able to handle the force of the attacks. He attempts a quick strike, but he is forced to turn the motion into a parry when the demon comes close to slicing his leg. The more he has to defend himself, the more Luke realizes that this might be death grinning right in his face.

  “Your mortal strength is nothing compared to my demonic powers. I shall enjoy eating your heart!” the demon roars, its armored hands igniting in flames as it strikes down at Luke.

  The creature is shocked when Luke manages to dive out of the way of the attack, rolling between its legs. A ten-foot long gash sears the ground, quickly filling with a bubbling stream of lava. Luke’s face goes pale upon seeing what almost hit him. The Hellfire Elf turns to face him, showing off its sharp teeth with a sadistic grin. Both warriors know that Luke’s courage is failing, doubt snaking into his heart and mind.

  “I’m not done yet,” Luke says with a shaky voice.

  “You are lying, child,” the assassin hisses.

  The Hellfire Elf grins wider and taunts the half-elf by dropping its sword to its side. Luke bellows as loud as he can before he charges, repeatedly swinging at the demon’s throat. Every attack misses as the Hellfire Elf effortlessly runs backwards at the same speed that Luke advances. It doesn’t take long for Luke to get tired and a single slash of the Chaoswind sends both sabers flying out of his hands. Another upward slash cuts Luke diagonally across his torso.

  Luke immediately falls to the ground, screaming in agony. The wound is shallow, but Luke can barely breathe through the pain. It is a burning pain that the half-elf can only imagine would be like having dragon fire injected into his veins. His terrified eyes focus on the Chaoswind, which hums mo
ckingly at him. The thought that this isn’t how adventures are supposed to end crosses his mind, but it never makes it to his lips before his body goes into violent spasms. The grass around the forest tracker quickly becomes trampled and covered in blood. The blood continues splattering out of the wound, as if Luke’s body is rejecting it. A sudden surge of determination courses through Luke’s body, urging him to struggle to his hands and knees while the demon watches in malicious awe.

  “You can still move?” the demon asks in disbelief, taking a step back. “Nobody of goodness can withstand the strike of a Chaoswind. That foolish caster must have given me a false blade.”

  “This isn’t . . . over,” Luke groans, trying to get to his feet. The effort is wasted as he collapses in his own blood. His eyes close as he watches the Hellfire Elf start walking towards Kellia.

  11

  Luke’s eyes open to the soft glow of a flickering candle on a wax-covered table. He gingerly touches his left shoulder, following the scar from the Chaoswind. He sighs as his hand runs to his right hip where the scar ends. It takes him a few minutes to notice Aedyn’s voice chanting by his head. Luke still lacks the energy to move his head and get a look at the priest, but it is a mild comfort to know that the Hellfire Elf didn’t finish him off. The forest tracker feels his energy steadily return and after another hour of Aedyn’s chanting, Luke is able to prop himself against the cold wall of the infirmary. His legs are still numb and his arms feel like every muscle has been shredded.

  A voice from outside the door breaks the silence. “Don’t yell at the boy. He’s been through enough. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did against that thing. He might not even be awake.”

  “He better be awake. I have a lot to discuss with him,” growls Selenia, barging into the room. This causes Aedyn to abruptly stop chanting and he leans back in his chair to rest.