Legacy of the Defender (The Defender Series Book 1)

by Jacob Spadt

  I sat in contemplation. Malnuras fell back into meditation. For quite a while as I sat there debating my piety, Malnuras was snoring. My old life was not overly religious, nor full of faith. However, I still believed God was there.

  Yet here I was.

  I stayed awake all night, deep in thought. The weight of the situation I stepped into hit me hard. How one man could make a difference in this war was beyond me. How could I possibly kill enough daemons to make a dent in their ever-growing population? According to both of my teachers, they bred rapidly. The magic involved in crossing over was the hard part for them. Conditions had to be exact for them to cross over and even more precise in order for them to gain access to Earth. I wrestled with this for some time. As I drifted asleep finally, poetic words of a different nature came to mind.

  A glorious thing I have seen today,

  When beauty so fair has touched me this way,

  When she enters the room is aglow,

  I want to share this tenderness so.

  My eyes shot open. Where in the world did that come from? It was morning. My mind wrestled with those words that jarred me awake. I wondered if my subconscious mind thought of Sandra still. I lay there staring up at the colors of the sky changing hues when I saw stars again and glared at Malnuras for cracking me in the head with his staff. I realized what I had done and was about proffer myself for the disrespect, when he laughed making me feel even more nervous.

  He shook his head. “Meditation of that level is excellent for the mind, but not to the point that you are unaware of your surroundings. I was calling you for many moments.”

  He was right. To lose track of time and my surroundings so easily was a mistake made by someone young in their journey. It was a step forward in my training under my own influence. My mind nagged as I rubbed the side of my face gently and felt a small welt forming. With the lesson now rubbed in, there was no reason to waste my healing powers. Where the poetry came from of that nature bothered me about as much as his dodging my question

  When I leave, “Others” attempted to maintain thinning the numbers. The idea rolled over my mind. Who? Angels? My mouth finished the question. A long pause ensued.

  Malnuras looked at me with a slight grin. He chuckled. I felt unease from him as he laughed and realized the desire to know faded. I stared at him. His eye twinkled. That usually meant something was about to change in my world. “At least I have my swords,” was the only thing running through my mind.

  “You will meet them in time, but for now....”

  I stared at him with a shocked look, slightly irritated that I did not know there were others. There had to be something, or someone, perhaps many, assigned to do what I did. There was some comfort at this knowledge. It was important to thin the horde. My gaze stayed on him.

  My senses tingled. We were not alone. Laughter echoed all around.

  “Oh, that’s dirty!” Distinctive outlines began to coalesce. Ten shapes appeared strategically around the campsite. I jumped to my feet, drew steel, and postured myself accordingly. My back was to the fire, eyes maintaining a panning gaze on the shapes. I expected this to be a test. Fire glinted off one of my blades and caught one of the shapes in the eyes; I saw a hand come up. I exploded into action.

  This was going to be good.

  IX

  Toys

  Excitement washed over me.

  Standing unseen in the middle of an intersection, I watched daemons poor from a portal, allowing a small horde to infiltrate Earth. They did not detect me. A small group of leapers emerged to hold the ground on Earth’s side. Normally, I was hard to miss, but they had not seen me yet. I had a few new toys in my inventory that I looked forward to testing.

  Several days before, teacher and I met with a group of people that chose to defend the wilds of Heaven. They were Rangers, but what they really did was hunt daemons. Their attire was similar to mine. They had a cloak made of special clothing for camouflage, and boots that allowed them to move in silence. Their leader, Andrugal, took special interest in my role and offered to come teach me to hunt more effectively. I accepted the offer.

  “Teacher, can I get some of these items?” I asked examining Andrugal’s cloak.

  “We shall discuss it later,” he answered.

  “I hope so, because these items would really help me hunt daemons.” He pointed to the field where a loan daemon tried to sneak up on the group of us. I blinked and several blades flashed out of nowhere and killed it where it stood. I was envious.

  I learned the Rangers’ numbers were in the hundreds and they focused on killing scouts that came in small groups. Their purpose was sort of like mine; these people died in the real world and wanted to make a difference in heaven. They staunched the tide of daemons that existed here. The meeting was brief, but to learn of the existence made me feel less alone.

  There was a brief mention of another group, but because their methods were not conventional, the Rangers advised against contacting them. They were wild and did not work well with the Rangers. However, the daemons that strayed from the main host died and never returned. Therefore, they could not carry back information on the location of these creatures. The men and women I met pulled the daemons to them to spring traps. When I asked the Rangers for more information, they fell silent.

  One of them finally replied, “You will understand if you see.” I felt left out of the loop but accepted that perhaps it was not the time for me to know everything. After all, my mind was on overload as it was. We parted company with each of us intrigued about the other’s role. I looked forward to meeting them again soon.

  A call came and the Rangers had to go suddenly.

  Later that day, Teacher gave me several items to wear. He planned it all along I was sure. He almost seemed excited to give them to me.

  My new attire consisted of a suit of heaven-forged cloth that was made of woven metal fibers. The fiber came from a special type of alloy that did not exist on earth. While it looked like cloth and had an artistic pattern, woven in intricate designs all over, it was simply not. It moved like comfortable clothing and weighed almost nothing. Master instructed me long ago that not wearing any type of armor in this plain was tempting fate. Considering all my training had been lethal to this point and death could have taken me at any time, why would they not give this to me earlier?

  Most importantly, it could mimic basic fashions so on Earth, no one would know any difference.

  My teacher told me the reason was so I would not rely on it for protection. The warriors of antiquity could avoid most blows, and he was right in his thinking for sure. He explained that it would adapt to my surroundings to help me blend in on its own. It resembled regular clothing. It was something to do with its enchantment. It could take the blows that I failed to block if my enemy got past my guard and past my runic defenses. We tested it right after I put it on. It was going to be about to trust the armor to prevent a strike from bypassing my defenses. Many lethal blows struck true. I had to know how it felt…to feel the shift in my balance as the blow landed and to compensate for it. “Never lose your feet in a battle,” my master taught me. You cannot win a war from your backside.

  I knew this from personal experience.

  If the armor fell into the wrong hands back on Earth, it would be catastrophic. Just like the ship that crashed at Roswell, this technology needed safeguarding. That did not go to well for those aliens. Magic created the armor, but its physical design would keep scientist busy for years and would reveal more than they were ready to know. He told me to bond with the armor so it could change on mental command to my desired style. I got a dirty look when an hour later I was walking around the camp in blue jeans and a tank top…so I set it back to looking like traditional medieval breaches.

  Double baldrics crossed my back for holding my swords securely. Adorned with runic designs, they too were of exceptional quality, though they did not contribute anything other than their purpose. I liked the feel of having my weapons o
n my back so I could draw them. Calling them to my hand felt like cheating.

  My cloak allowed me to become invisible on command. Material made from a large chameleon type of daemon was the chief component. With the proper magic, the skin stayed alive. It smelled dead, but when I turned on the camouflage for the first time, the smell went away. Thankfully when off from that point forward, it did not smell dead. It gave off a slight shimmering effect bending the light just so slightly that the innate ability allowed a creature to vanish. When I studied it for the first time, the design amazed me. Movement had to be very slow.

  Teacher told me to bond with this item also. It took longer, but when I held it in my hands and activated it, my hands disappeared, the ground shone through. It was as though anything touching it was simply not registering to the eye. My eyes could see as sharp as an eagle’s, even they could not detect my hands when looking through. I had even discovered passing through small objects was possible. Trees and rocks that had been unaltered, if I went slowly, allowed me to pass through them, as long as my whole body was not inside the object. This function allowed the being that created it to allow me to infiltrate warrens of the creatures and kill them where they slept. From that day forward, the Rangers shared the technology with any one will to fight with them.

  While I reflected on the events the day before, I felt prepared for my first real exercise without any support from my teacher or master. This was no longer a test by my guess. Dozens of daemons appeared. The portal destabilized for a moment, cutting the last one in half. He died gurgling while the others looked on and laughed. Even in my location, their voices carried a short distance. For a portal to open on the very edge of a town was rare. Mathias asked the Sasquatch at some point to tell him when a portal was in the process of opening. He wanted me to see firsthand how it worked.

  I was back to Earth for this test.

  It was a little strange to know that my body was here somewhere in the real world. This body manifested me as a corporeal being in the realm of Heaven. It would be crazy to see myself in a coma. I had been given an hour for the scenario before Bigfoot would be brought in to mop up if I failed. “No pressure,” kept running through my mind as I stood there taking stock.

  I watched in fascination before realizing that I had better make sure they remained hidden. Focusing on the lot of them, I reached into myself to tap into my internal energy and felt the rune on my forehead activate, cloaking all of them to make sure they did not appear to any unsuspecting humans. I looked for a sign somewhere over a business to see if I could spot a name. Glancing quickly here and there without taking my eyes of off my prey for too long, I tried to spot the name of the town. Because they were from another dimension, they did not coalesce until the portal locked open, allowing the rest of their essence to flow out of the portal. It was as if it helped part of them back, keeping them from being stuck there in the event they failed. It could also be a defense of the weave of energy around the planet. As the magic that brought them here strengthened, they would become solid. Right now as I watched, they seemed to act like ghosts. Knocking people over almost seemed like cow tipping. They were trying to touch anyone they could.

  The cloaking formed a barrier that kept daemons in the area from seriously harming anyone, but only for what felt like a few minutes. There were a few people close by in a small crowd. They scattered quickly as soon as they saw a small dust devil kicking up the leaves.

  They spread quickly around half of the block when the daemons started harassing their prey. I knew I had to move in fast. If they started killing each other and using some sort of ceremonial magic, a portal locked open from this side would be harder to close. The numbers coming through would be devastating. The daemons knew they had to establish a beachhead of sorts before they could sacrifice each other. They came here knowing they would die to achieve the goal.

  Sadly, if the daemons succeeded in their magic, the barrier would falter, making it harder to hide the truth. The portal would draw the energy from the area, draining the energy from my illusion as well. I tried to argue this was not to my advantage when we arrived, but the response was not favorable as nothing is fair in war. Mathias said he did not make the rules that governed how magic and energy interacted. Therefore, my clock started before my arrival.

  The townsfolk tried to run in all directions. People fell. Daemons tried to attack them. Then it hit me. This was the distraction! The daemons were very aware that the Defender would be here, only today I was alone. They meant to lure him away with a large host that feigned going after the people in hopes he would focus on killing the daemons to allow just enough daemons to stay behind to lock the portal in place with blood...their blood. They did this in population centers to keep the Defender busy. I could barely understand the guttural language, but one of them spoke in some sort of incantation to start the process. The others began to taunt each other as if it was a game to see which daemon killed the most before they killed each other in the final blow to expand the portal.

  Only today, I saw right through the rouse.

  Plagues throughout history that appeared to have short runs and die out were the result of daemons. Daemons were chaotic and could barely function as a group so they tended to not follow the plan. There were numerous records in the last century with the increase of good record keeping. This sickness was the direct effect of the daemons "appearing" to take a host while still incorporeal, but they could not maintain this state for very long. A daemon would re-emerge inside the host. It was quite messy. The bodies burned in a pyre before anyone knew. Thankfully, the Defender was able to get there and remove the daemon in cases where someone looked at cause of death. The organs did not survive, sometimes liquefied by the blending of the two bodies. It was quite gross.

  From just a touch, a human had a very good chance to contract an unidentifiable disease in which they died horribly. Lord knows what these diseases did to them, but I could only imagine how painful it could be. Thankfully, the protective barrier I could engage protected them from the actual touch of the daemon, but not from the kinetic energy. The anomaly affected them physically. It may not have kept them from bumps, bruises, or scrapes, but it kept them from death. If the daemons did manage to kill a human near a portal, that soul went straight through to someone on the other side, waiting to collect them. That soul made the horde stronger somehow; I could only imagine the benefits.

  I moved across the street. Seeing one of the monsters stiffen as if he sensed my approach, I sprang into action. It turned only to meet my blades. There was a flash. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils as the heavenly metal cleaved it in half with ease. Unnatural laws that governed its body on the other plain did not work the same here, but my blades worked, and that was all that mattered to me. Their design disintegrated daemon flesh eliminating clean up. Malnuras was a genius when he came up with the concept. Mathias saw to the forgers and enchanters.

  What little of the blood remained, smoldered out of existence.

  I waded into the first group. Three died before they realized their plight; I dodged back and forth making quick work of the first dozen. Daemons flashed out of existence quickly. They discovered me quickly.

  Seeing my approach, the other twelve sacrificed half their numbers to open the portal. Four had died by their own kind before I reached them. I was visible now. Eight stood in various perches before me as they flew up and landed, observing and cursing at me in their tongue. I felt the rift locking in place; my head ached, staggering my stride. The daemons saw my faultier and three more fell to their own, leaving five. The rift was about to lock open. I shifted my attention to closing it.

  Such small numbers. This should be easy.

  Too late, my overconfidence had betrayed me. A portal appeared as the two remaining turned on each other and one killed the other. I doubled over in pain, trying to focus my energies on closing the portal. It was a trap. The last daemon dove through the portal before it slammed shut.

&nbs
p; A voice in my head spoke "You were too close to it."

  The other voice responded, “He will learn."

  "Dark magic can affect you still. The portal is created by vileness...if you are too close, its mere presence will diminish you.” They spoke together. The majestic sounds still caught me off guard when they spoke, especially together. It was a good lesson to learn.

  Too close means pain.

  I was on all fours. Embarrassed at what had just transpired, I rose to my feet and called out to Mathias for help. Within moments, I was at the campsite. Breathing hard, I stood up and walked over to him. Before I could speak, he said, “So you have a problem now?”

  I knelt down with my head hanging shamefully low. I had not known defeat on this scale since starting, and it was not even a daemon action to cause it. Something told me that all my work had just been defeated as the daemon would be half way to his evil prince telling him of his discoveries. I felt an urge to take my own life. I drew a blade.

  Malnuras’s hand touched mine as I positioned the tip to do the deed; I knew it was a bit dramatic but truly felt that I had dishonored myself. I looked at him. “That won’t work.” I gave him a puzzled look. “Your blades have been designed so that they cannot be turned against you. You can try, but it won’t even break the skin.”

  Therefore, I tried. He was not kidding. My painful look became apparent with a tear that formed. “There is no need for that,” he said pointing over to the carcass of a newly killed daemon. “I told that one how to get back and waited for him. Your response time is too slow. Go back and we’ll try again.”

  Mentally, I was back on my heels, bewildered at what I saw. The urgency was all a ploy to throw me off balance. Granted it gave me less time to plan my attack; they had not seen me coming until I was on them. Words would not form my thoughts. My teacher caught my look.