Legacies

by Patrick Stewart

  Sure, the portals didn’t appear to stay stable for long periods to allow thousands of demons to pour out. The numbers were small for now, but it was another worry, one he could have done without.

  An image popped into his head, of a human army facing a demon one, when from behind them, a thousand demons suddenly appeared. It would cause chaos among the human soldiers, tip the battle in favour of the demons before even a single drop of blood had been spilled.

  He needed a plan to deal with this.

  Stopping drinking would be a good start.

  Afraid of developing feelings for Cassie, Martial had resorted to dealing with his problems by drinking.

  And that had been a fucking disaster. Not just because apparently he’d increased his levels of asshole-ness when drunk, but also because of the fucking demons that had erupted from the earth.

  They got lucky in the end. There were no casualties in the village and the demons were dealt with swiftly.

  The demons had come with a Hell Hound, which was different.

  Martial hadn’t seen many beasts from Hell coming though the portals, even during the height of the war. He wondered if it was because of the way the portals were constructed, and the fact that every portal was surrounded by rings of fire.

  The burning lava that poured out of the ground with the demons wasn’t your traditional lava. Demons could be burnt to death. Maybe not Satan, but most demons, anyway. You had to remain very still in the portal. Too much movement and you would drift towards the burning edges.

  What had changed now?

  As they rode on towards Learmouth, Martial wondered of what to do next. There was a war coming, two new threats. One he had witnessed first-hand, and the other, Satan’s return, he was certain was true. He could almost feel it in his bones.

  He could march straight to the capital, tell them he was first generation Legacy, or even an Immortal, here to meet the queen with an urgent message. They would never know if he was lying or not. It wasn’t like every Immortal knew every other Immortal.

  But he doubted the queen would believe him, or, if she did, there was little reason for her to listen to him. She would do her own thing. It was possible she already knew and was doing her own thing.

  It was a thought that had occurred to him during his trip to the settlement by the border. Those demons hadn’t emerged from newly created portals in the ground. They had passed through the difficult and narrow mountain paths. Paths that were easy to defend, paths where the queen’s Border Patrols were supposed to be.

  But they weren’t there.

  The queen must know of portals emerging from the ground in her land. Maybe that’s why she recalled her soldiers. No use keeping them to protect a border when the demons didn’t have to cross that border anymore.

  Martial didn’t know what he could do in Learmouth, other than pass on his knowledge of what was going on and hope the Legacy in charge wasn’t an asshole. They needed to train every available man, woman and even child, and arm them with weapons, whatever they had available.

  Martial had one other problem that needed dealing with. What was he supposed to do with Kagnak, the demon riding with him? She would attraction attention and hate wherever she went.

  Goddammit, why did she have to be blue?

  This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, getting attached to girls like Cassie, having to be responsible for anyone, especially a helpless demon.

  It was like Deja vu for him.

  He didn’t like how it had ended the first time, in nothing but blood and tears.

  * * *

  The journey to Learmouth was an uneventful one. The skies were clear when they set off, but during midday, the skies briefly darkened and a sudden burst showered them. They were on a dirt road surrounded by empty fields, no houses in sight, or even trees to take shelter under.

  They continued on, and soon the rain stopped, the sun reappeared, and they began to dry.

  By evening, the walled town or Learmouth appeared on the horizon. It was a bigger town than Cornhill-on-Tweed, and on a more established path, one that led to the capital, it was a more prosperous town.

  The wall was built of white stone and rose over twenty feet in height. It was supported by six towers at the front, each with manned battlements. Traditionally, this would have been considered a town relatively secure against demon attacks, though that probably hadn’t been a concern in over a hundred years.

  As they came closer to the town, a field to their left was burnt and had indents in the ground that looked like they had been holes.

  Portals that had opened up from Hell.

  Fuck.

  It was happening everywhere.

  There were lots of tents set up in front of the wall. At the front was a small line of men in poorly equipped armour, rusty swords, bent spears, sitting guard. Beyond them and before the wall, children ran around amongst the tents. In a patch of land, animals grazed under the watchful eye of a woman sitting on her bottom, a stick in hand.

  Some of the women in the tents stepped out as Martial and the girls rode past in their horses. They wore looks of resignation and worry on their faces, a look Martial had seen plenty before. He knew what they had been through, and it raised his concerns. The demons were appearing much more frequently than he had hoped.

  The gate leading into the town was guarded by a bunch of men wearing armour and holding swords. Their leader, a portly man in his late forties, was sitting on a horse. Seeing them approach, he rode out to meet them.

  “Town’s full,” he told them. “Only traders are allowed in.”

  “What do you mean town’s full?” Cassie muttered.

  “The town is full of people. No more refugees are allowed in. Only traders,” the man repeated, his voice firm.

  “Do I look like a refugee?” Martial asked.

  The man looked at him, really looked at him. And then, he spotted the demon girl, Kagnak sitting behind him. He reached for his sword and at the same time, his horse, suddenly alarmed by the tugging on the reins, stepped back unsteadily.

  “You got a demon on your back,” the man said.

  “I know.”

  “Why do you have a demon sitting behind you?!”

  “I captured her in a village the demons attacked. She’s been tamed. Belongs to me now,” Martial said.

  “You tamed a demon?” the man mumbled. “What are you? Legacies?”

  It was as if saying the words finally opened his eyes. He stared at them anew, first the girls, their height, their beauty, the armour they wore on their bodies. He licked his lips, suddenly dreamy, in fantasy land, succumbing to the affect their aura was having on him.

  “You are Legacies,” the man stuttered. “I uh… I- uh… I don’t know w-what I’m supposed to do. Master Kevin never mentioned anything about Legacies.”

  “He would want to see us,” Cassie said.

  “Of course, you’re right,” the man muttered.

  Martial wondered if the girls were doing it on purpose, on using their aura to ensure this man caused them no trouble in letting them enter, or if it was happening naturally as it did with him. Though the girls had been abandoned at a young age and did not know what generation Legacy they were, Martial had a feeling both girls were early generation Legacies. They had natural raw talent about them.

  They set off, following the man past his soldiers and underneath the arched gate. The town was set in two obvious districts, and each stood facing each other. On the left were the poorer neighbourhoods, the roads narrow, the houses two-storey or less and made of exhausted dull brick, the alleyways dark, rubbish piled in corners. The humans wore dark clothes too, as if to match their existence and have a constant reminder of their place.

  On the right, the houses were bigger, some rose three flours, some four, some five. They were made of grey stone, some whitewashed, others painted in different colours. The houses had balconies and large windows with stained glass. The roads were bigger, the few visible people r
ode on horses or sat in carriages.

  It was a bad sign, seeing a town’s division so vividly. It could only mean the Legacy in charge was an asshole, like so many were these days.

  The man who led them down the street introduced himself as Patrick. He was in charge of defending the town and now keeping its walls secure. Until recently, it had been an easy job to do. Humans came and went as they pleased.

  But it all changed when the demons began to pour out of the ground. Refugees turned up from the surrounding villages in their hundreds. A few were allowed in at first, but then, Master Kevin ordered the gates to be shut to all but the traders.

  Most went back to their villages, but some had no place to go back to. The demons had burnt everything to the ground. So they stayed outside the gates. It was horrible a week ago, when the demons poured out of the ground only a mile away from the town walls.

  Thankfully, it was only a dozen or so demons, and the refugees were able to handle it. When Martial asked why Patrick and his men hadn’t ridden out to help, he replied stating he wasn’t allowed. Master Kevin didn’t want him to lose men helping the refugees.

  Patrick added with a nervous laugh that he was glad too. He’d never seen a demon until last week. They were terrifying as fuck.

  * * *

  Patrick took them to the town’s Hall of Legacies. It was a grand building, surrounded by a wall with metal spikes running along the top. It had enormous gardens at the front, all with neatly trimmed grass. In the centre was a fountain, the stone shaped like a Legacy, tall, perfect body, naked, her head was tilted back, the water pouring out from her open mouth.

  Upon entering the building, Patrick handed them over to Katie. She was a blond Legacy. She was also completely naked. Her breasts were pierced. There was a ring attached to her cunt too. One on her bellybutton, another on her tongue. She carried a whip in her hand. She introduced herself as a fourth-generation Legacy and Mistress of the house.

  Martial told her he wanted an audience with Kevin, the Legacy in charge. Introduced himself as a third-generation Legacy, using Martha’s parents’ details as his own, he told her he was in charge of Cornhill-on-Tweed.

  It was sufficient rank for Katie to warrant the meeting with her master.

  She led them into the house and towards the waiting room. On their way there, Martial passed those working in the house, cleaning, cooking, being furniture.

  That’s right.

  A petite girl stood naked in a corner, holding a vase in her hand.

  Most of the girls they passed had piercings on their bodies, and all were naked. As they passed a girl on her knees sweeping the floor, her naked ass in the air, her back low to the point where her nipples touched the ground, Katie lashed out at the girl with her whip.

  She spoke no words to the girl, express dissatisfaction at the girl’s work.

  Nothing.

  Just a strike across her ass. A hard strike too. It left a red line across her white ass. The girl wasn’t a Legacy, most of those working in the house weren’t. Her pain tolerance would be much lower, but she took the strike silently, indicating experience of regular abuse.

  Katie led them to a large room within the house. It was a lavishly decorated room with marble flooring, a golden spiral staircase to the left, a dome in the centre, chandeliers hanging down, thick carpets with intricate designs, tapestries depicting Legacies in various forms towering over demons hung from the walls.

  Martial sat down on the golden-framed chair whilst his two Legacies, Cassie and Michelle, stood behind him, both girls had their hands resting on their waists beside their swords. It was to look more official, and impressive, rather than be effective as a fighting force. Though both girls were very capable, Michelle’s real talent lay in her effectiveness with the bow slung across her back.

  Kagnak, the demon girl, sat on the floor beside his feet.

  Martial didn’t like that she did that. But he didn’t say otherwise. It was important for appearances that she appeared dominated. Kevin, the Legacy Martial would be meeting with needed to be impressed.

  There were very few things left in this world that surprised or impressed Legacies. Having a demon by his feet would be one of those things.

  It was a long wait for Kevin. Martial knew the asshole was doing it on purpose, just to prove a point. That point being that he could turn up late.

  He finally strode down the golden staircase, wearing a silky red robe, a naked girl in each arm, both with their nipples pierced, Martial judged them as Legacies based on their height. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he knew them as much, could feel their aura.

  He could feel Kevin’s aura too.

  It was strong.

  “Martial,” he nodded at him. “Katie tells me you’re the Legacy from Cornhill-on-Tweed,” Kevin said as he sat down, his naked Legacies both dropped to the ground by his feet. He stared at the demon by Martial’s feet, and when he met Martial’s eyes, he smiled. It was a guarded smile, and his eyes told more.

  Greed.

  Envy.

  “Last I knew, wasn’t Flittick in charge of that little town?”

  “Killed him.”

  “I see,” Kevin nodded. “As is our right, I suppose,” he laughed. “What happened of the Legacy in that town? Martha, her name was?”

  “She’s pledged herself as an apprentice to me now,” Martial said.

  “Oh?” Kevin said, an eyebrow raised. “I sent a couple of my girls down there a few years ago. Martha fought like a bitch,” he chuckled. “Refused to surrender, said she would fight to the death. Even broke one of my girl’s arm. How is it she decided to surrender to you?”

  “I guess she must have seen something worthy in me,” Martial said, his voice hardening. He was really beginning to dislike this Kevin.

  “Hmm,” Kevin smiled.

  There was silence as both men stared at each other, both calculating how this would end. It was always tense when a new Legacy came into town, one that did not plan on submitting as an apprentice. And it was rare for a man to submit to another man as an apprentice.

  Martial was confident he could defeat Kevin in a duel, but the problem was, he feared Kevin knew that too. There was little chance of them settling this in a traditional duel where the winner takes all.

  Kevin had a sweet set-up here. By skill, or luck, he was the Master of a good-sized town. He was treating Legacies like they were nothing more than whores, which meant he was either skilful enough to defeat them, force them into submission, or he was a cunning fucker.

  Martial decided it was a combination of both. A lethal combination. He needed to be careful here.

  “What brings you to my town, Martial?”

  “Nothing that will surprise you. I’m sure you’ve heard of the demons pouring out of the ground attacking humans?”

  “I’ve heard of something along those lines.”

  Martial frowned. Was he doubting it? How could he doubt it when there was evidence right outside his own town?

  “We need to prepare for the coming war, and there will be a war with the demons, unlike any we have seen before,” Martial said.

  “I think I can handle a few ugly fuckers that crawl up from Hell,” Kevin said.

  “It’s going to be more than a few. Something has changed. The devil may be back,” Martial avoided saying Satan’s name.

  “The devil may be back?” Kevin’s eyes twinkled. “I didn’t realise he was gone.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t gone,” Martial said, trying his hardest to be diplomatic and not punch the guy in the face. “Maybe he decided to sit out the wars for whatever reason. But I believe that’s changed. I believe, in the coming war, Satan will participate. And it will be the end of us if we do not prepare.”

  Martial thought it would be the end regardless of how much preparation they did, but he didn’t mention that.

  “You speak the devil’s name,” Kevin said, his face now tight.

  “I do.”

  There was
a cold silence between the men, one finally broken by Kevin.

  “And why do you think the devil will participate in future wars?”

  So Martial told him about the demon he had battled near Coldstream. A demon that could grow in size was a powerful demon. Usually, such demons, those of power, did not lie to humans.

  They saw humans much like humans saw sheep. Much like how there was no need for a farmer to lie to its flock, so a powerful demon did not see any need to lie to a human.

  This demon spoke of Satan and his return, that Satan would destroy the earth, burn it to the ground, turn its lush green mountains red to resemble Hell.

  That part wasn’t entirely accurate, but sometimes it was necessary to tell lies.

  Martial then told Kevin how he could sense the demon wasn’t lying.

  He knew he’d made a mistake the second he’d said that.

  “You sensed it with your aura?” Kevin asked. “You’re third generation, I believe?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was led to believe, while third generation is impressive, it’s not that impressive for your aura to be able to tell if someone is lying or telling the truth.”

  Martial held back a sigh. He hadn’t said his aura was a fucking lie detector. But it didn’t matter. He already knew what he had to know. Kevin was an asshole too full of himself to listen to anyone else. He would have to be removed.

  “I happen to be a first-generation Legacy,” Kevin volunteered the information.

  “First generation, huh,” Martial said. “One of your parents was an Immortal?”

  “Both, actually,” Kevin said, wearing a wide and satisfied grin.

  “I always wondered where Immortals came from. These humans that can live for ever, so strong, so powerful. What’s their origin story?”

  “It’s a closely guarded secret,” Kevin said, no longer smiling. “Only for privileged ears. Not for the later generations.”

  “Why is it so closely guarded?” Martial asked, leaning forward. “You’d think they had something to hide.”