LEGENDS: Fifteen Tales of Sword and Sorcery

by Colt, K. J.

  “Like Gretzen, I too see something in you, Talon Windwalker. Your name sparks a memory of a dream I had in a past life. You will go on to do great things, of that I am convinced; but, my friend, you must not hate yourself so.”

  Talon felt the knot in his throat tighten; he fought back the tears, but they won out eventually. He could not deny the elf’s words, and he hated him for being able to hear his thoughts.

  “I can count on one hand all the people who don’t hate me,” Talon confessed.

  Azzeal turned and held Talon in his gaze. “I’ve seen into your heart, Talon; I have overheard your thoughts and worries, your dreams and fears. I can say from many centuries of experience that you are a good person. You are righteous and you are brave. You are kind to friends and forgiving of enemies. Please see yourself for what you are. Don’t ever let them tell you who you are.”

  Talon had rarely been spoken to that way. His friends told him such things, but Azzeal really could see who Talon was inside. Maybe he was right. All his life he had seen himself as his father saw him, but why? His father was a madman just like the rest of the Vald. For the first time in his life, Talon was genuinely glad he had not met the measure.

  “Is Akkeri alive?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  Azzeal took a long time to answer, and the longer Talon waited for the answer, the more he feared what it might be. Then Talon realized the elf didn’t know. He was searching somehow.

  “I do not know,” he said finally, and Talon released a pent up breath. “Do you have something of hers?”

  “Her ribbon,” said Talon, showing Azzeal the dirty ribbon around his wrist.

  “May I?” Azzeal asked, reaching out.

  Talon gave him his arm and the elf touched the ribbon with three fingers.

  “This has been in your possession for a time?” he asked, closing his eyes.

  “Yes,” Talon confirmed.

  The elf’s fern-like eyebrows shot up and concentration turned his face. “It was hers so long ago, she has changed so much since then…I feel her…it is faint,” Azzeal said; then he released the ribbon and rubbed his forehead.

  “Would it be faint if she were dead?” Talon asked.

  “It might, if I were close to her body. I believe it is faint because she is far away.”

  “How far can you…feel someone?”

  “Depends on my bond to them. I have no bond to her but through you. If the feeling is faint to me here, then she could be as far as one hundred miles away,” said Azzeal.

  “Which direction?” Talon asked, getting excited.

  Azzeal seemed to ponder. “South, I believe”

  “Well then, she ain’t lost in north sea of ice,” Gretzen put in. Talon hadn’t even noticed she had returned. She handed each of them a bowl of roots and mushrooms. “You’ll find her; first you eat your shrooms.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  NEW HORIZONS

  WHAT IS DONE is done; I shall proudly stand for judgment of my actions.

  —Azzeal, 4996

  Talon’s wounds had been mended weeks beyond what would have been possible naturally, though he remained sore. Most of his life he had spent sore or in pain; he was used to it. His amma urged him to rest longer, but Talon could not sit idly by whilst Akkeri was out there in the world, alone. He decided to set out immediately, and Gretzen respected his decision.

  “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, Azzeal,” he said at the mouth of the cave.

  “You are quite welcome,” said Azzeal. “Do not worry about your amma, it is too dangerous for her here, I have spoken with her about it, and she has decided to accompany me to Elladrindellia.”

  Talon was relieved to learn that she would be safe.

  “There is a woman in the village, a healer.”

  “Mahjree?” Azzeal guessed.

  “Yes,” said Talon. “I worry for her as well.”

  “I will see what I can do,” said Azzeal.

  “Thank you. I am sorry that I lost your ring,” said Talon.

  “Things are only lost until they are found. Go to the waters, speak words of truth, perhaps Kyrr will answer.”

  Talon lit up, excited at the possibility of finding the ring.

  “If you are ever in Elladrindellia, near the city of Cerushia, ask about me. I may be around,” Azzeal said. Talon promised he would.

  Amma Gretzen acted much like she had the day he left for his Miotvidr. When he gave her a hug, she held him tight and bent down and kissed his cheeks. “Your amma Gretzen is proud of you, boy. You hear me?”

  At first Talon was unable to answer.

  “I love you Amma,” he finally said.

  He left the cave with only the timber wolf figurine and the sack of food and waterskin Gretzen prepared for him. Azzeal had gathered Jahsin’s ashes, though Talon knew not how. Those he carried in a small jar.

  Through the vine tunnel and out past the abandoned mine he went. He reached the road where Vaka Groegon attacked him, and pulled out the wolf carving.

  “Come, Chief! Come, boy!”

  Mist once again swirled out of the figurine, and his first friend came to life before his eyes.

  “Hey, boy, you ready to get off this island?”

  Chief gave a playful bark.

  Together they traveled up the road to the Skomm village under cover of darkness. Chief ran ahead and behind, scouting the way. When someone came, he returned to Talon’s side and gave a small growl. They had to hide in the woods three times on the road to the village to avoid Vaka on horseback. Talon learned by listening to their tired grumblings that they were looking for him.

  “I says the feikin chiefson gets his arse out here himself if he wants the Draugr so bad,” one said.

  “Gonna be pullin’ double duty ’til the runt is found; get used to it,” said the other.

  Other patrolling Vaka he came across spoke of Gretzen—how she had been missing since Talon disappeared. She was wanted also. Talon was glad she would remain with Azzeal in the cave until he was finished with his work on Volnoss. Then she would go with him to the Elven lands for the rest of her days. She had been so impressed with Azzeal’s nature magic, and she couldn’t remain here anyway. Fylkin was looking for both of them; the chiefson knew she had something to do with his escape.

  Talon stayed to the shadows and followed the fields and lowlands between Timber Wolf and Skomm Village. The route was slower, with no road to follow, but it was safer. His destination was the harbor, and he could not risk going through the village. He worried for Majhree, but she would insist she was fine; he knew that she would not come with him.

  The harbor was silent but for the slow lapping of waves. Talon waited a long time in the shadows before he was confident that no one was around. Chief gave no indication that he sensed anything of consequence. Together they ran down past the boats and onto the beach. He could have left on one of the unattended keiprs, but he dismissed the idea immediately. He would take the raft Jahsin made. At least that much of him would get off the island.

  Talon snuck into the water, trying to make as little sound as possible. Chief wouldn’t go in and waited on the beach, whimpering faintly.

  “Shh, Chief, I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

  He walked out until the water reached his hips and wondered what he should say. In the cave, Azzeal had said that he could find the ring by telling it the truth.

  “Kyrr, Ring of Righteous Anger, it is I, Talon Windwalker. I am unworthy of your great power. Perhaps that is why you left me. I know I am small and weak, but I promise I will ever use you in defense of the weak, of the small.”

  Talon’s voice echoed over the water louder than he liked. He watched the water and he waited. Nothing happened. Perhaps the ring had washed out to sea. Perhaps it had been found. Was it possible that the ring didn’t want to be found?

  He turned and began for the beach and Chief gave a small bark. Talon looked back and found the waters glowing a stone throw away. He swam to
ward the light as fast as he could. When he was over the glow, he dove under the water and swam down, down, down. He went further than he ever had, and when he was sure his lungs would burst, he reached the ring. He took it up in his hand and frantically swam back up. He broke through the surface, gasping for air. He scoured the shoreline, but there was no one. Chief sat on the beach, scratching his ear and looking quite bored. Talon put the ring on his finger as he treaded water. A flash of energy went through his body as the ring connected with him.

  “Thank you, Kyrr.”

  They returned to the shadows and bushes and skimmed along the edge of Timber Wolf Village. After nearly two hours they came to the patch of rocky shore he had fished for so many years. Chief became excited when he recognized their old stomping grounds.

  Talon worried that the storm might have swept away the hidden parts of the raft, but it had not. Because the crashing waves had spread some parts of the raft deep inland, it took him hours, but he eventually found all of the posts and the rudder and sail as well.

  Jahsin had gone over how to build the raft a hundred times, and Talon could hear his voice telling him each step as he worked. He took his time assembling the parts of the raft; it was the closest he would ever be to his friend again. Many times he had to stop because his tears blinded him so. He wiped them away and cursed his weakness. Real men didn’t cry, he thought, and heroes sure didn’t.

  He finished the raft shortly before midday and wasted no time in getting it to the water. Chief leapt onto the raft as Talon pushed it out. He climbed on also when the water got too deep and began to paddle. The wind was gentle but steady when he lowered the sail. It caught the wind well and pushed them through the small waves as Talon steered them south. The raft worked as well as he thought it would. He expected no less from Jahsin.

  Talon watched Volnoss grow smaller as they went, and the feeling of finally leaving the prison of his youth was bittersweet. He had finally escaped, but his liberation came at a great cost. He thought back on all the nights under the stars that he, Jahsin, and Akkeri had spent dreaming of their lives in Agora. How he wished his friends were with him now.

  Talon considered spreading Jahsin’s ashes in the ocean, but thought better of the idea; he would wait until he reached Agora.

  “Thank you, Jahsin, for being my friend. You were a blessing to me in a dark time. I’ll never forget you, and I’ll never forget your dream. As the gods are my witnesses, I will return to Volnoss someday and free the Skomm. I swear my life on it.”

  He turned from the island and set his sights on the distant shores of Agora. Akkeri was out there somewhere, and he intended to find her.

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  SEA QUEEN PREVIEW

  WHERE THE WORLD BEGINS

  I ride with elf to his homeland, mine we leave behind. Old heart leaps to dream of wonders awaiting. What magics I seen done by moss-haired one leave me giddy as sixteen-spring lass. I sense Talon move farther from us, but I take heart in my dreams. He has defied gods, foiled the Chiefson. Spirit wolf walks with him. I take heart in my dreams.

  -Gretzen Spiritbone, 4997

  The Strait of Shierdon, Sumar, 4997

  Talon sailed toward Shierdon and his heart leapt even as it broke. The sensation was strange, something he had never felt—freedom. He stood upon the threshold of discovery, the world laid out before him. The ocean would bring him anywhere. The rations Azzeal and Amma Gretzen had given him would last him weeks. For the first time in his life he was the master of his destiny. The island of Volnoss—his prison since birth—had faded into memory on the northern horizon as he sailed away into the night. Here, in between worlds, where dreams began and nightmares ended, he felt the magnitude of the world. And he was humbled.

  To his right a group of long-nosed whales arced up to blow their air holes before disappearing once more into the eternal waters. Whenever they regarded him and his raft, their eyes reminded him much of the elf Azzeal. They were patient, understanding, and seemed to peer right through to his soul. Held in the gaze of the colossal beasts, he sensed a kinship of spirit that left him shaking. They existed as kindred travelers upon the currents of time, fighting for their place in the world.

  As he sat watching the whales, lost in his introspection, he failed to notice the ship until it came startlingly close. He searched the raft and open seas, but the vast blue waters offered no hiding place. His big white sail stuck out in the moonlight like a star against the deep dark heavens. Talon turned back to the whales but found them gone, and envied the sea creatures and the ease with which they’d disappeared. He feared the ship would be a Vald Whaler—the Skomm slaves of Volnoss did the majority of fishing, but the Vald enjoyed the challenge of killing whales, and blubber had ever been one of the staples of the Volnoss barbarians.

  Talon fondled the figurine that housed Chief’s spirit. He had dismissed the spirit wolf shortly after setting out, because he’d acted so uncomfortable on the raft, but was considering summoning him back as he watched the ship. Returning to Volnoss was not an option—he would fight to the death if need be. He still had the small hammer, hatchet, and knife he’d used to build the raft, as well as Kyrr, Azzeal’s ring.

  As the ship approached from the west, he untied Kyrr from Akkeri’s red ribbon and slid it onto his finger. The weight of Azzeal’s gift gave him courage, and he faced the ship unafraid. The vessel drew closer but did not veer in his direction. Talon sighed relief when it passed a few hundred yards away and sailed on. It wasn’t a barbarian whaler, after all, but a big three-mast ship like the ones traders came on.

  Talon turned his attention back to the south and sat behind the mast once again. He untied the rudder’s securing line and steered himself toward Shierdon, with only the moon to keep him company. By noon the next day, the coast came into view and his spirits soared. He wished more than ever that Jahsin and Akkeri stood with him. They had spent so many nights imagining this moment.

  “We did it, Jah,” he said, to the glass jar containing his friend’s ashes.

  He drew closer to the coast and surveyed the shore—rocky and steep, with violent waves sending plumes of sea spray high into the air. He considered sailing east to look for a place to put in but decided to go west instead. The Eye of Thodin had moved west from Volnoss, and likely Akkeri would have made landfall in that direction.

  He took care not to be dragged in by the surf, and steered his raft west for a half an hour before finding a calm patch of beach to land on. He veered toward it and nearly burst with anticipation. The raft hit the surf and lurched, sending ocean spray up and over to crash down on him. All the while Talon laughed with glee. The waves came from behind, swiftly carried him in, and set him down on the golden sand. He leapt from the raft and gave a triumphant cry.

  He held the timber wolf trinket out before him. “Come, Chief, you’ve got to see this!”

  Blue mist swirled out, and wrapped around him twice before solidifying. Chief danced in circles on the beach and went to sniffing around. The ocean waves crashed to shore once more and the wolf jumped, startled, and made his way higher up on the dunes.

  Talon wasted no time in collecting his pack and Jahsin’s ashes. He pulled the raft up on the beach and let down the sail. He didn’t want to leave evidence for barbarian search parties to find.

  “Come here, Chief. Help me get this raft out of sight.”

  Talon secured two lines and they pulled the heavy raft off the beach. It was hard work and took the two of them a good ten minutes, but they eventually got it over the high dunes and out of sight from the ocean. He took a long pull from his water skin and surveyed the land around them. Tall brown blades of grass covered the rolling dunes to the south and eventually led to more dense foliage. A sparse tree line gave way to a thicker forest. Some of the plants he recognized, yet most he did not.

  They sat on a large stone
near the water’s edge as Talon ate from his rations, marveling at the foreign landscape. The sky was mostly clear, with only faint puffs of scattered clouds lingering lazily. He stared north toward Volnoss as he ate, and thanked his stars he was far from the hated Vald.

  Though it was only afternoon, he decided to make camp for the night. Having not slept since before setting out, he thought it wiser to start out again at dawn, fully rested.

  Talon uncorked the jar of Jahsin’s ashes and waded out into the ocean until the water reached his knees. The waves lulled into the coast, raising as high as his waist, before receding back and pulling the sand beneath his feet with them.

  He raised the jar to the sky and spoke to his friend. “I’m sorry Jahsin, I should have killed Fylkin when I had the chance. If I had, you would still be alive, and the three of us would be together now. I know I can never make it up to you, but I will try. I’ll return to Volnoss one day and free the Skomm, as was your dream.”

  Talon’s voice broke and he took a moment to collect himself, cursing his weakness for the thousandth time. He wiped angrily at his tears and poured half of the ashes into the ocean before returning up the dunes, where Chief stood waiting.

  “Goodbye, Jah, I’ll never forget you.” He spread the remainder of the ashes in the wind, which carried them inland toward the forest. Chief perked up to watch as they disappeared.

  Talon slumped down on the sand and wept, unable to curse away his emotions. Now that he was finally away from Volnoss, and the pressure of having to escape was gone, the pain of his losses set in. Chief lay down next to him and whimpered for his master. Talon smiled through his tears, grateful to at least have his oldest friend with him.

  That night he sat on the dunes, watching the sun set beyond the curve of the coast. Twilight came and went, and soon darkness covered the world. The moon crested the horizon over the ocean and lit the water like a silver sunrise. Talon stretched out his bedroll on the raft and slept beneath the stars with Chief at his side.