LEGENDS: Fifteen Tales of Sword and Sorcery

by Colt, K. J.

  “General, if I may make a suggestion . . .” Trigorah attempted.

  “You may not. You have your orders. If you wish ever to be returned to battlefront command, I suggest you follow them,” he hissed.

  “As you wish,” she replied.

  General Trigorah bit her tongue and pulled open the door of the office. As she marched through the throne room, she looked to the king one last time. The old man’s gaze, a knowing look of defeat, caught hers briefly. Trigorah looked away. She had a task at hand. However difficult, however misguided, she had a job to do. It was her duty to succeed. And succeed she would.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  THE NEXT DAY, MYRANDA AWOKE to her normal routine. Deacon, while having breakfast with her, was thrilled to hear that Calypso intended to involve him in the training. He raved for a time about what gray magics he could teach that would mesh perfectly with water magics. His enthusiasm was contagious, and by the time the two had set off for the lake, she was more excited about learning the things he had spoken of than the things Calypso had in mind.

  Myn, however, felt differently. She was no fool, and when it became clear that they were headed back to that wretched lake, she leapt in front of them, spreading her wings to block their way.

  “What is this all about?” Deacon asked.

  “Ever since we had to make it through that waterfall, she hates the water. She is trying to protect me from it,” Myranda said.

  “Oh. Well, that is quite noble, if perhaps a bit misguided. You really have nothing to worry about. It can’t hurt you if you don’t let it,” Deacon said, directing the final comments at the dragon.

  “I think that is what she is trying to do. She won’t let the water hurt me,” Myranda said.

  “Ah, yes. Well, let us just go visit Lain, then,” Deacon offered with a strange tone and a wink.

  The two walked toward Lain’s hut. Myn followed for a few steps, but paused.

  “Come on! Let’s visit him. I promise, we won’t even fight,” Myranda said.

  Myn looked questioningly at Myranda. The dragon then turned back to the spot at which they had been standing. She sniffed curiously.

  “This way!” Deacon urged.

  Myn lashed at the empty space with her tail. After the whip crack of it striking something, the veil of invisibility, as well as the pair of illusions, dropped away. Deacon was hopping painfully on one leg and Myranda was laughing.

  “Clever little thing, aren’t you. Practically any other animal would have followed the illusions. I suppose that I had best look into both covering our scent and producing a false one. I ought to thank you for illustrating a weakness in my methods,” Deacon said.

  With a bit of effort, the trio managed to make it to the lake again. Myranda tried her best to convince Myn the water was safe.

  “Permit me to demonstrate,” Deacon said.

  He waded out into the lake until he was waist-deep. Myn watched cautiously.

  “There, you see? Nothing has happened!” he said.

  “Myn, watch me. I promise you that nothing bad will happen. And when I am in the water and you can see that it is safe, you can come in, too. Then you will know that there is nothing to be afraid of, and we won’t have this problem anymore,” Myranda said.

  Myn, with the utmost of reluctance, stepped aside to let Myranda wade in beside Deacon. She stood, chilled a bit, but unharmed. When a few more moments passed with no ill effects, Myn began to edge closer to the water. She touched the surface and leapt back at the sudden cool feeling. After building courage again, she ventured back to the water’s edge and dipped in a single foot. It had no sooner broken the surface than Myranda and Deacon suddenly jerked beneath the surface.

  Myn sprang backward. When her friends didn’t reappear, she panicked, finally taking to the air and gliding across the top of the water. She could see the two humans streaking along the bottom of the lake, being dragged by the mermaid from the day before. When the center of the lake had been reached the water creature touched her pendant and the pair of humans dropped to the lake floor.

  “Why did you do that!?” Myranda scolded.

  “Well, you were just standing in the water. There is only so much daylight, we’ve got to use every drop of it,” Calypso said.

  “But Myn was just starting to trust me that the water was safe. You may as well be a sea monster, pulling us under like that. I promised her that nothing would happen!” Myranda said.

  “I think she knows nothing is wrong. Look,” Calypso said, pointing up to the surface.

  Myranda looked up. Through the rippling surface they could see Myn skimming just above, looking down longingly.

  “Oh, drat. My potatoes,” Deacon said, realizing too late that the pair he had brought along as anticipated rewards for good behavior floated to the surface.

  Myn skillfully snatched them.

  “You didn’t earn those!” he cried after her.

  “She’ll get tired and land eventually. Now, before we get too deep into our studies, I think that we three are long overdue for a chat. Learning magic is a fine way to spend a day, but a good conversation is food for the soul. I find that after a spirited exchange, I am far more prepared to do my casting, and I think you will feel the same. So, where to begin? Have you any questions for me?” Calypso asked.

  “Well, I had been wondering . . .” Myranda said, looking worriedly at Myn as she made another pass.

  “Yes, what is it?” Calypso asked.

  “How exactly did you get here? I know that the rest of you were either born here, or entered through the cave. You couldn’t have,” Myranda said.

  “Oh, couldn’t I? You are no doubt aware that the cave is mostly filled with water for the vast majority of the year. While it is draining, some of the water finds its way to the mouth of the cave in the form of a stream. Most filters through a honeycomb of tunnels and caverns that are full of water year round. At least one such cave connects with the ocean on the landward side of a very treacherous rock formation that runs nearly the entire coast.

  “I was busy exploring said cave and I found my way up into the then-flooded main section. It didn’t stay flooded long enough for me to find my way out again. As the water drained away, I was forced further and further along until I slipped into that smooth little bowl the waterfall has carved out. To my surprise, I was helped to this lovely little lake and here I have lived, quite happily, ever since. I can’t say I don’t miss the other merfolk, but I wouldn’t trade all that I have learned and seen here for anything,” she said.

  “Really? Remarkable,” Myranda said.

  “Oh, but I always do the talking. I can hear my own voice anytime. Let’s hear about you!” Calypso said.

  Myranda proceeded to retell the story of her life for what seemed like the hundredth time since her arrival. Deacon continually reached for his book to find his notes on the subject. Even in the water, he kept it by his side, casting a half-dozen spells to protect it from any damage it might take for the time being. When the tale worked its way to her arrival, Deacon did more telling than she, so excited was he. It was just as well. Myranda could never manage to tell of her own accomplishments without feeling she was boasting. Deacon concluded with a very detailed account of the Hollow incident.

  “Hollow. Quite a creepy fellow. Come here, Myranda. Let us see this mark of yours,” the mermaid said.

  Myranda showed the thin white scar that had begun this bizarre journey of hers.

  “Ah. Yes. It is just as I had imagined it. Simple, elegant. The work of the spirits--or the gods. Tell me, Deacon, do we know yet what it means that this girl has the mark, but was not born with it?” she asked.

  “There were a number of phrases we’ve been able to translate from Hollow’s latest speech that seem to allude to it,” Deacon said, flipping to a seemingly random page in the book. “Yes, right here. ‘A mark both fresh and faded belongs to the carpenter’; ‘A label of white adorns that which will see each.’ Things of that natu
re.”

  “I see; well, that certainly answers that.” Calypso snorted. “Honestly. The spirits could be a bit more straightforward in their messages. If they truly wanted us to know what they were saying, they would say it more clearly. Well, regardless of what that mark means, we had best be sure you become what you are capable of. Let us begin the lesson,” Calypso decided.

  The routine that formed that day would prove to make the next two weeks the most pleasant since Myranda’s arrival. Aside from having to practically plead with Myn for permission to enter the water each day, and the inevitable pranks that Calypso would play, she had a glorious time. In the early lessons, Deacon and Calypso were equally involved in teaching her--though, as the days progressed, Calypso allowed Deacon to do as he pleased, preferring to watch and offer comments where needed.

  Each lesson would end at the water’s edge, where Deacon would really shine. He taught her to levitate the water by filling it with her energy as she might slip her hand into a glove. As the time went on, she found that she could will the elevated water into simple shapes. Each day, of course, ended with her sessions with Lain, which continued to grow more challenging and frustrating with each fruitless battle, but even the sparring matches were not wholly unpleasant. They at least proved to her that she could hold her own with a gifted warrior--who, by this time, could not have been holding much back.

  The end of the second week marked the beginning of the lessons that would have to be done entirely on the land, as she would be doing the reverse of what she’d done before. Instead of drawing air from the water, she would be drawing water from air. Myranda was having great trouble with it. Calypso sat on the shore, instructing Myranda and allowing Deacon to be her hands.

  “I don’t see why you don’t give yourself a pair of legs for the time being. That is what you had done for all of your other students,” Deacon said.

  “Yes, but I feel this is easier. No, no. Myranda, that is not quite right. You need to hold the staff lower; the energy will flow more smoothly. Deacon, show her,” Calypso said.

  “She is right; it needs to be a bit lower, and your other hand a bit higher. You have to leave room for the ball of water to form. Later, you can twist the magic any way you wish, but right now you should be focusing on the spell, not the energy it takes to cast it,” Deacon said.

  “I can tell her. I asked you to show her,” the mermaid said.

  Deacon stood beside Myranda and guided her hands. He was fairly shaking as he touched her, taking his hands away quickly when her hands had reached the correct position.

  “There, I, uh . . . that is approximately where they, uh, ought to be,” he said, stumbling over his words and seeming slightly out of breath.

  It was the first time since she’d met him that he had been anything but eloquent. A blush came to his cheeks. Myranda realized that she was blushing a bit, too. Calypso noticed it and grinned. The girl tried the spell again, but found that she couldn’t manage it. She was having trouble concentrating. The grin on the mermaid’s face turned to a smile. She beckoned for Deacon. When he waded over to her, she whispered something into his ear.

  “But why?” Deacon responded.

  “Well, you agree, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Of course I agree, but I cannot imagine that she wouldn’t already know,” he said.

  “Well, don’t you think it would be best to be sure?” she asked.

  “I suppose,” he said, turning to Myranda. “Myranda, you are, um, very lovely.”

  Myranda could feel the warm blush fill her face.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Oh, there is no need to thank me. I am merely speaking the truth. I frankly do not see why Calypso thought it needed to be said,” he said.

  The mermaid laughed.

  “You know a great deal about a great many things, Deacon, but you still have a few things to learn. That is enough for today. There is plenty of time to get it right,” she said.

  “Oh, no! I had forgotten until this morning. We may not have the time we thought,” Deacon said.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Calypso asked.

  “The full moon came on the first day of this month,” he said.

  “Did it!? I hadn’t been paying attention. How exciting!” she said.

  “What do you mean? What is this all about?” Myranda asked.

  “There will be another moon before the month is out! A blue moon!” Calypso said.

  Deacon answered Myranda’s questioning look.

  “I’ve spoken of it before. I must have. It is a night when mystic energies run higher than any other. Acts of magic impossible on any other day can be done when the moon reaches its peak on that night. It is a tradition that on such a night we attempt to summon a being described in detail by the prophecy. This being is born of the elements themselves, and it is most assuredly one of the Chosen, and represents the sole exception of our rule banning summoning. However, it will not arise unless the mystic power used to conjure it is influenced by the strength of another Chosen.

  “For as long as this place has existed, it has been used as the test to see for certain if one of the Chosen is among us, and it would be a crime if you were not included in the ceremony,” Deacon said.

  “And I need to be a Master of the elements by then, if I am to be a part . . .” she recalled.

  “Indeed. You will need to finish your training with me and have your overall exam by the end of next week. We will indeed need to hurry. Oh, curse it all. I finally get student with a personality and I have to push her through faster than any other. Someone up there is toying with me,” Calypso said. “No matter, though. Myranda, you ought to get a bit more rest than usual tonight. We will need to push you harder tomorrow. Enjoy. Deacon, would you remain for a bit? I need to discuss something with you.”

  Myranda headed off while Deacon lingered.

  “What was it you needed to discuss?” he asked.

  “In a moment,” Calypso said, waiting until Myranda was well out of earshot. When their privacy was assured, she continued. “You like her. As more than a colleague.”

  “Well, I . . .” he began.

  “It is an observation, not a question. She likes you as well. I know that you aren’t going to confess your feelings so easily, so let me just give you a word of advice. If you feel that you wish things to move forward between the two of you, invite her with you to watch the opening of the cave when the falls relent. There is something about that place. It is where your parents met. It is where many parents met,” she said. “Now go. Think about it.”

  The training continued the next day. The feeling was far more serious now. The days that followed were filled to the brim with education. The gray magic expertise that Deacon offered sped her progress markedly, so much so that there was a bit of time at the end of each day to slip in some pure gray magic, particularly illusions. By the time the end of the following week had drawn near, Myranda was deemed ready for the final exam.

  A large bowl with a hole in it was placed on a stand, just as Solomon had done in his test. However, this one was far larger, and the hole was smaller. She was charged with filling it with water by conjuring it from the air. The task would have been a simple one if not for the drain. Now she would not only have to conjure up enough water to fill it, but she would have to do it quickly enough to do so before it poured away.

  Myranda set her mind to work, reaching out and drawing in all of the moisture she could muster. It came in a tiny trickle into the bowl, and flowed out just as quickly. She would need to do much better. Her mind fanned out, reaching in all directions to try to find more water. The trickle increased, but not nearly enough. There must be enough water somewhere. She was not permitted to draw it from the lake or the sea; it had to be from the air. Finally, her mind happened upon what appeared to be a monumental mass of water suspended on its own. She began to draw it forth, but it must have been very far away, because she couldn’t hear the trickle increase. She opened her
eyes to see all in attendance looking up.

  “You didn’t warn her about that, did you?” Deacon said.

  “Neither did you. This is going to be entertaining,” Calypso said with a grin.

  Myranda wanted to crane her head and see what had attracted their attention, but the strain of concentrating was growing greater, as though she were pulling an ocean, yet nothing came. Then, in a tumult so sudden it nearly tore her from her focused state, the water came all at once. It was like a torrent coming down--not only where she intended, but everywhere else. Myranda guided as much of the water as she could manage into the bowl, not daring to open her eyes until she was finished, fearful of what she might see.

  “Enough! Well done! On to dexterity,” Calypso said joyfully.

  The girl opened her eyes to see that, despite the fact that she was no longer drawing it forth, water was falling like a savage rain. She had reached forth and drawn down the very clouds, and what she had begun would have to continue until the storm had run its course. The people watching her scattered for shelter. Myn, who was just getting over the shock of being doused so suddenly, returned to Myranda’s side. Now, all who remained to watch her were Calypso, quite at home in the rain, Deacon, drenched but unwilling to miss the spectacle, and Myn, faithful as always.

  “Just draw up a bit of the water. Heaven knows there is enough of it about. I want an ice sculpture of . . . oh, how about little Myn there. I want every detail. Shape it and freeze it. Begin immediately,” Calypso instructed.

  Myranda obeyed. She drew up the water from the soaked ground until it seemed like a rippling mound. Her energies filtered through it, forcing it to change its shape to match that of the little dragon. The basic form was simple, but as the details came to be formed, Myranda could feel the strain of stretching her mind in so many directions at once. Nostrils, scales, teeth--each had to be crafted and held. It was difficult to tell how quickly the time had passed, but finally she found herself staring at a near-perfect replica of her dragon, sitting on its haunches, mouth open a bit and tongue protruding slightly.