Legacy-Tales of Wanderers

Another short story from the 'Legacy' collection.

Tales of Wanderers

The sun was high in the summer sky, its warmth heating the Earth and warding off all attempts at indolence. The markets were teeming, shopkeepers shouting at onlookers to browse and purchase their wares, piles of fresh fruit and meat permeated the alleys of which the market took place. Their aroma adding to the bountiful smells that filled the noses of passer’s by, it was a happy day, a peaceful day. The summer markets were one of the greater attractions that were offered in the great city of Qing-Hao. It was the largest city on the continent and sadly it was one of the few that were still in control of the people. The bandits and marauders that had once lived in the outlands were now sifting through the walled cities, the locals believed the cause to be spirits. But Valen knew better. The conflict that raged in the heavens were affecting people from all races and it seemed that it made these bandits confident enough to take these cities. They had hoped to be safe here, but it would seem that conflict may find them as of yet. Valen and Legacy had taken refuge here not too long ago to escape from the oncoming Tsudarian patrols that had been scouring the area for them. As of yet they hadn’t thought of looking here as Qing-Hao was located in an area that was, far less advanced than anything either the Tsudarian or the duo were used to. However Legacy thought that he was adjusting well, something that Valen believed to be false. The Carrier had wished to stay inside today and sleep instead of enjoying the beauty that the markets had to offer, which was of no surprise to Valen.

“Youngsters,” he said to himself as he walked along, every now and then the money that he kept attached to his belt would rattle, a kindly reminder that it was still there. Legacy had scolded Valen for wanting to use money, ‘we don’t need money, we can just take whatever we need’ Legacy had said. In the years since his failure at Esquildor Legacy had become a different person, he was rough, blunt and had a knack for speaking his mind, qualities that would be admirable in anyone other than a Carrier. Valen understood why Legacy was acting like this, the skirmishes between the Tsudarian and the Eternal had broken into all-out war and Legacy, instead of spearheading the attack like he was expected to, was instead instructed to infiltrate the enemy. This angered Legacy, if hiding during the aftermath of Esquildor had filed his rage than this was something beyond even that. Valen alone had been assigned to help with Legacy’s role and he feared that the young Carrier may not have the patience required to complete this task. He approached a stall, the vibrant colours attracting him like a bee to the petals of a flower. Beyond the stone slab that marked the stalls interior hung a number of hand woven tapestries, some encompassing more skill and colour than some that Valen had seen in the Eternal. He was greeted by a middle aged man with greying hair and a barren scalp, his face was weathered by years of work but it still was able to produce a heart-warming smile.  “Can I help you sir?” the man asked.

“Just browsing, my friend,” Valen replied. The tapestries were beautiful; each seemed to be woven after a particular legend that circulated the surrounding lands. Each was outstanding in their own right, but there was one that stood out to Valen more than any other.  A dragon lay on the ground, blood dripping on the ground, a thousand spears surrounded it in a failed attempt to kill it, the beast was wounded and close to death. In the distance the darkened mob of angry humans grew close all readying to kill the peaceful beast, but alone stood one, a boy of two years past manhood, comforting the beast and protecting it from the oncoming harm. The colours that it used was outstanding, vibrant greens mashed with crimson that seemed to more pure than the blood of a newborn. The store owner, seeing Valen’s fascination with the tapestries provided some backstory to the legend, “Ahhh, you have a good eye, that is the legend of Fhurier and the dragon Kral. According to legend, Kral was one of the elder dragons who came to protect a town from a terrifying war. But the villagers misunderstood and attacked Kral wounding him; soon the oncoming army that Kral had come to defeat were now marching. Upon seeing the dragon they raced to finish it. The village too were keen on ending the dragon’s life, save but one. A young man who sided with the dragon and protected him from harm, he was able to stop his village from killing the dragon but was unable to defeat the army. He gave his life protecting the dragon; such a show of selflessness inspired Kral and gave him the strength to send the army fleeing,”

“And what of Fhurier?” Valen asked curiously.

“According to legend the man was heralded as a hero and was forever bonded with the dragon in the afterlife. It is said that in times of trouble that Fhurier will return on Kral to bring peace,” the store owner said, finishing the legend. Valen nodded in appreciation for the man’s time, “Well then, I’ll take it,” he said. Smiling the store owner passed down the tapestry, Valen handed the man three gold pieces, double what it was worth. The store owner looked at the money and back at Valen, “Sir the weaving is only one gold piece and three silver,”

“Ahh that it is, but a good story is always worth something” he replied, smiling he took the tapestry and walked off. With the tapestry tucked neatly into his small cloth backpack, Valen resumed his walk along the market landscape. He had walked not two metres before a commotion drew his attention, from a stall not a few metres away an angry customer was shouting at the store owner. Demanding that he be reprimanded for some odd problem that he had encountered with his product. The surrounding customers all started to group around in a wide hemisphere in an attempt to find what all the commotion was all about. Though none seemed to be intent on helping the store owner, whose age complimented the sweltering heat of the summer sun. Pushing through the surging crowd, he approached the bickering duo. “Can I help you?” he asked the man. The arguing customer, who seemed two decades beyond manhood, turned to look at Valen. Upon viewing his weathered frame and ancient face, seemed relieved that he was not being faced with a suppler opponent, or so he thought.

“This is none of your business old man, I suggest you leave,” he angrily spat. Valen turned away and faced the store owner. 

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked. Annoyed that Valen was, in no way, paying attention to him answered the question.

“This cheat tried to charge me extra for this stupid piece of junk,” the man shouted holding high in the air an ornamental amulet, it was created in the shape of rising flames. A small circle was missing from the base of the flame, at first glance small indents could be seen that would indicate that the piece had been pried off but when closer inspection was undergone found it would be that the indents were not vandalism but instead inscriptions. Now for one who was educated in anything beyond the simpleness of mining would have known this. But it seemed that this certain individual knew not of this.

“Um excuse me, but did you make this?” Valen asked taking the amulet from the fool’s hands. Taken by Valen’s sudden interest in his work, took a second before answering.

“Uhh, yes I did,”

“I’ll buy it,” Valen said.

“Excuse me?” the man asked.

“How much?” Valen inquired as he ignored the fool.

“2 gold,” the store owner said hesitantly.

“I’ll give you double,” Valen declared as he handed four gold over to the befuddled old man.

“You’re paying four for that junk!” shouted the man.

“These indents are scripture, not vandalism. This man made this amulet he didn’t find it. This would be worth five gold easily on any open market, you’re a fool for not taking it for two gold. Have a good day,” Valen stated smiling to the old man as he walked off.

*

Legacy lay still in the hay bed that was situated in the middle of the rundown apartment that Legacy and Valen had found themselves in. He was staring at the cracked ceiling, watching the flaky pieces of paint fall down as the occupants from upstairs shouted and argued angrily at each other. Legacy sighed “How far we’ve fallen,” he said to himself. The quick absence of the midday sun’s light attracted his attention and his hand fell to the hilt of his damaged weapon, hearing the soft patter of footsteps on tin he stood up and faced the window. The noise got louder as Legacy tightened his grip on the hilt, the weapon, which had no blade, transformed into a short sword and the blade illuminated an orange hue. “Who goes there?” Legacy shouted.

“It’s only me,” a small voice piped as a small head poked from a corner of the window. Legacy shook his head and lowered his weapon, “Alison, what were you thinking! I could have killed you,” Legacy shouted as his weapon deactivated and returned it to its hilt state. Allison climbed into the apartment from the small ledge that she sat on. She was young, too young to be climbing into the room of a dangerous man such as Legacy, her chestnut hair flowing flawlessly through the opened window, she landed on the ground and sat on Legacy’s bed forcing him to sit on the floor to give her space. Her clothes were all but rags, with the only piece of attire that didn’t seem to originate from a trash pile was the golden necklace that hung around her neck.

“What are you doing here?” Legacy asked.

“I just wanted to come over and say hi,” the little girl said innocently.

“Well you shouldn’t be coming over here, we’re not exactly safe people to be around right now,” Legacy said ominously as he sat down on the ground opposite his bed. He slipped the hilt of his weapon onto his belt and ran a single hand through his dark and mattered hair. “Only the outlaws care about those wanted posters and it’s rare for them to come here,” Allison said reassuringly as she looked around Legacy’s small apartment. Legacy watched her as her gaze flew over the few trinkets that he had brought from the Eternal. “What’s this?” she asked as she pointed to a small bound book that lay on a wooden chest. It was set out among Legacy’s other trinkets, as if needed its own space, whatever it was it seemed important. As Allison pointed the book to Legacy he inhaled quickly and his eyes darted to the floor, as if he was remembering something that he wished to forget. “It’s…nothing, just a trinket from home,” he said.

“Home?” Allison repeated, curious.

“Yes my home, why are you so surprised?”

“It’s just that, you don’t seem to be the ‘home’ type of person,” Allison replied innocently.

“Well believe it or not, I do, or did,” Legacy spoke with a hint of subtle spite and it wasn’t made clear if the spite was aimed at himself or at some unknown figure.

“Well can you tell me about it?”

Legacy locked eyes with the young girl, his home was an incredibly personal subject and beyond that it would be difficult to explain the subject without first explaining the finer details of the inner workings of the Eternal to her and for such a little girl such as herself that would be too much to bare. Seeing the blankness in his eyes, Allison knew that he was not adamant on sharing, though true to the nature of such a young individual she pressed on determined to find the answers to the question that the trinket had raised.

“Come on can’t you just tell me something?” she asked quietly and with the smoothest of tones that she could muster.

“Allison! I’ve told you I don’t want to talk about it,” Legacy shouted, a bit too loudly, at the little girl. Allison folded her arms and pouted, a few minutes passed before she gained the courage to ask again. Part of her knew that, as a sign of sympathy, she should not pester Legacy any further, but the rest of her mind wished to know more about Legacy and cared not for his feelings. “What was your home like?” Allison asked, she half expected Legacy to stand up and shout at her again, to do something that would represent his frustration with both her and the predicament that he had found himself in. However, what did happen next was something that Allison was not expecting. Legacy stood up and picked up the small book and opened it, inside the pages were blank but Legacy looked at them as if they held words that culminated in the story of his entire life.

“You remind me of her,” Legacy finally said, his words were void of any anger or frustration with Allison but instead love. Allison looked at her friend she lowered her head to get a look at Legacy’s eyes as he stared at the book in deep concentration.

“Who?” she asked.

“Rebecca,”

“And who was she?” Allison asked, this was a new side to Legacy, one that she had never seen before. The man who had been hardened by countless battles was now being replaced by a person who shared no sign of the intensity of the warrior she had come to know.

“Rebecca is…was my sister, I don’t remember much of her, but what I do remember was that she was the most loving person that I had ever met. She was ruthless in her questioning, much like you and she never missed an opportunity to meet another, which is exactly like you,”

“What happened to her?” Allison asked, she was careful in her tone, despite her inexperience with this emotional Legacy she didn’t want to upset him. At the asking of this question Legacy gripped the book hard.

“She was killed, when I was six years old. We were walking back from school, it was my first day and Rebecca was in the fourth grade. She walked this route every day and she wasn’t afraid of walking alone, she had faced most problems and overcome them. But she wasn’t expecting what happened that day. We were walking through a park when we saw two older boys picking on a small disabled kid. I went over to tell them off, when I did they attacked me, one of them hit me with something and I got knocked on the ground. Rebecca came over and pushed one of them, she hit the other in the face and gave him a nosebleed. I remember that part well, it was the first time I had seen Rebecca ever get violent and it was the last. The other kid pulled something from his pocket and hit her with it, she fell to the ground and started to bleed. He stabbed her,” Legacy said as his grip on the book strengthened, in his eyes fires burned.

“There I was, a boy of six years and they stabbed her in front of me!” Legacy stood up now as he shouted, his anger must have been great for in his free hand a ball of violet energy swelled growing as Legacy’s angered increased. 

“They killed her! AND THEY TRIED TO MAKE ME FORGET!” There was no denying Legacy’s anger now. Allison didn’t know what to do, his anger was obviously not aimed at her yet she couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for it. “They took me from my home! They stole me and they tried to cleanse me of my impurities! They tried to erase her from my mind!” the ball of violet energy in Legacy’s hand increased and it seemed to be emanating not just from his palm but from the entirety of his body. He stood silent for a few seconds, before realising how out of control his anger had become, the energy in his hand subsided and he sat back down avoiding eye contact with Allison.

“I’m…sorry, I didn’t mean to explode like that,” Legacy said.

“It’s ok, I know what it’s like to lose family members,”

“Yes, I guess you would,”

“What is in that book?” Allison asked, trying to steer the conversation back in the direction that she wanted it to be. Legacy looked down at his hand and realised that he was still holding the book. He smile a little, he opened it to the first page which had the writing ‘ad infinitum’.

“What does that mean?” Allison asked.

“It means infinity, endlessness. It was a present I received for my 18^th birthday. When I was younger I wanted to be a writer and I had written bit and so on my birthday my family got me this book. It was meant to be a book where I could write down all my thoughts, hence ad infinitum. But now it’s my greatest treasure, my only reminder of home,”

“What was your home like?” Allison asked for the second time, and this time she got a response.

“I didn’t come from here. I didn’t come from this town or the towns on this world. I came from another, from one of the many stars that shine in the night sky. You can see it, my home when you look at the night sky. It wasn’t anything spectacular, it wasn’t a great empire or anything resembling the sort. It was a humble world, a peaceful world. More focussed on the trivial problems that resonated in its own atmosphere, we seldom looked to the stars for anything other than the beauty it held. We were a young world. I lived in a small city, in a relatively small country an island surrounded by almost nothing. I was only 16 when I saw the rest of the world and it was beautiful. Oh the places that my home held, in the morning the sun would rise from the east and its light would shatter through the clouds, making the sky look like it was bleeding gold. The ocean would catch the light and send it shining back into the sky, all whilst its surface would sparkle with the amazement of the heavens themselves. Oh, my world has some sights, so many sights,”

“So why did you leave?” Allison asked.

“I was forced to, when I was 19, I was chosen. Taken from my home to be a leader, to be a warrior. You’re special I was told, well it’s been 10 years and I don’t feel very special,”

Allison chose not to reply, this conversation had taken a very different turn, and this was much more profound than anything she had expected from her friend. But at the same time his descriptions of worlds far away from her own was fascinating to her. “So there you go, that’s my story, well parts of it. It’s more than you bargained for I bet,” he said.

“Not entirely,” Allison responded.

Legacy stood up and placed the book back amongst the other trinkets and treasures that he held dear.

*

Valen walked alone in a grassy field on the outskirts of the city, it was a secluded sanctuary in the desert landscape that they had called home these past few weeks. But for Valen this place held more than aesthetic meaning to him. He found a lone tree to sit under and laid the woven basket that he had purchased at the markets on the ground. He sat and looked up at the sky; the endless expanse of blue was now starting to dim and the sun began to set. It was a beautiful sight, the setting sun, like that of Legacy’s home, started to bleed orange through the swirling clouds. Valen allowed the slight breeze to blow against his skin; he let his mind wander as the thoughts of ages past tugged as him like a fish against a fisherman’s line.

“What is his problem?” 

Words echoed through his mind, Valen may not have such a strong connection to time as Legacy, but he could still see fragments. To some it would be considered memories, but to those who shared Valen’s age such memories were scattered to the winds. This wasn’t a memory; this was a window to another time, to another man.

The words bounced off the walls of a small enclosed room, two men sat on opposite sides of the room. One was behind a large wooden desk, whilst the other was standing or rather leaning against a large glass window, beyond lay a city of beauty unimaginable. The man behind the desk was admiring a crystal of infinite complexity. He stopped and looked up at the man leaning on the window. “What do you mean?” he asked his friend.

“I mean what is his deal? At every turn he seems to have a problem with me, like I have done something wrong,”

“Well have you?” the man behind the desk asked.

“I don’t think so, I mean no, there’s nothing that I could have done to anger him. So what’s his problem?”

The man placed the crystal down on the surface of the desk and stood up; he walked to the large window and stood next to his friend. “He’s a complicated man, a very complicated man. He’s probably not even angry with you, it’s probably just something that has happened with you around and you keep reminding him of it,”

“Well that’s comforting at least,” The man at the window said. “Why is he like that?” he continued.

His friend paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say in this scenario.

“He didn’t always act like that; there was a time when he was a different man. But that was long ago,”

“What was he like back then?”

“He was…more head strong, to put it lightly. He would have gotten along gloriously with you, no let me correct that, he would have challenged you to a fight, then you two would have gotten along famously,”

“What changed?”

The man sighed, he turned away from his friend and walked back to his desk leaning on it he shook his head three times before regaining his posture and faced the window once more.

“The Eternal wasn’t always a peaceful place; in fact it wasn’t always the Eternal either. Before the time of the carrier it was the nexus, the empty space at the heart of the continuum. And before all of this…the Descendants were at war with a force known as the Abyss. The first carrier rose an army against them and fought back, the following war raged for eons and one of the warriors in that great army was Valen”

“That must have been…how old is Valen?”

“I don’t know to be honest, he’s as old as the Descendants that’s for sure, perhaps even older. I’m not entirely sure”

“So he served in the original war than?”

“Yes and that’s where he lost himself”

“What happened?”

“Before the war, Valen had a family and when he heeded the call his son was born and it wasn’t before long that his son had grown to serving age and serve he did. His name was Icarus and all he ever wanted was to help people, he joined the restoration corps for that very reason. He had helped hundreds of worlds cope with the war, but he was caught on E’venfell.

The eyes of the companion widened, he had heard of E’venfell and its story was not kind, his friend didn’t need to explain any further, for there was no need to. Simply mentioning the name of that wretched planet was enough for any man to understand the fate that Valen’s son was met with.

Valen was brought back to the present by a slight breeze that flowed through his greying hair, a single lone tear rolled down his face.

*

It was late in the evening, after Legacy’s outburst Allison felt it best that she remove herself from his presence. She silently left the room and allowed Legacy to sit quietly and reflect on the memories that had resurfaced. He sat with his hands linked and resting on the hilt of his short sword, its blade leaving a small indent on the wooden floor. Sweat was seeping from his pores, he blinked as a ball of perspiration rolled into his eye. He was sick, but it wasn’t a physical sickness but rather one of the mind. To Legacy the room was hot and sticky, with his the blade of his weapon searing to the touch, but his interpretation was altered, changed by the waves of memories that were resurfacing. Some were of his childhood, others of his schooling years, though the problems emerged where multiple instances of the same memory emerged. Different outcomes, different scenarios occurring in the same space and time. Legacy didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t know whether to trust his own memories and his own mind.

He felt an aching pain as what seemed to be another memory surfaced, however it wasn’t, it wasn’t a memory of Legacy but of Valen. Of one of the many instances where he felt it necessary to deliver his ‘wisdom’.

“I’ve been fighting wars for so long they have become second nature to me, I feel like my existence isn’t fulfilled unless I am wearing my armour. In a sense it has truly become my second skin, but Legacy if you are ever to listen to me, listen to me now. No matter what happens, no matter how much this war changes you, never let it change who you are inside,”

Legacy stood up, he walked by his treasures, he stopped and looked at the small book. Was that truly what it was? A present? How did he know that for sure? And what of the memory of his sister, how did he know that was truly what happened, did he even know that he had a sister? He needed help, he needed wisdom.

And come it did.

Within Legacy’s frantic panic there was a moment of clarity, he sat down calmly and crossed his legs. Abandoning his weapon he chose a demeanour of peace instead of that of caged animal poised to attack.

“Please,” he said “I need wisdom,”

For a few seconds nothing happened and Legacy wondered if the events at Esquildor were simply an isolated incident. But as a frown began to spread across his face a small white light appeared in the centre of his chest beneath his clothing. It shot out and expanded into the form of a middle aged woman. Despite seeing this before, Legacy was still very much surprised when his call had been answered. The spectre was the same as the one he had seen before, it wore the same dress and its face was painted the same.

The exact same expression that she had worn before.

“Hello Legacy,” she said in a friendly manner, her voice was full of motherly love as if she was speaking to a small child and in some aspects she was. Legacy sat awestruck, his memory of the events atop that balcony at Esquildor were foggy and he was not sure what preceded his attack of the Tsudarin was simply a dream or…something else, but now it would seem that his suspicions were correct.

Legacy rubbed the side of his face with his left hand, trying to assure himself that this was indeed real. There were so many questions that burned within him, about so many things, but he chose what he thought to be the most sensible.

“Who are you?” he asked, with an inquisition that burned with the intensity of a dying star.

 “My name is Carrier Biul, I was the Carrier that preceded you. What is it that you wish to know?” she asked.

Legacy sat silent, as before the numerous questions still burned within him like wildfire. But when he tried to speak he found that he could not form the words, he was speechless, something that happened to him rarely.

“Before, on Esquildor, you said that it was time for me to learn. What did you mean?” Legacy asked, he knew that a more objective inquisitive pursuit would concern his present condition and as he wiped the sweat from his brow he had to force himself to ignore the pain and continue on. Biul looked at him, she noticed that something was not quite right with Legacy, but regardless she answered the question that he had put forward to her. Though instead of answering the question, she responded with a question of her own.

“What have you been told of the Carrier’s?” her voice sounded patronising, almost pretentious to a point. Legacy instinctively wanted to snap back at this spectre, to show that he was not some foolish child that had stumbled into the role of a Carrier. But he stifled his anger and answered the questions calmly.

“I have been told of the Carriers by the Eternal; that they, that I am the river through which all of reality flows. That I am the conduit that harnesses the energy of Axion himself, the life giver,” Legacy gave almost a textbook answer, Biul noticed this and shook her head.

“No, I do not want to know what the Eternal has told you, I want to know what you have learned,”

Legacy sat silent, what he had learned? He knew only what the Eternal had told him and nothing more.

“I, I only know what the Eternal has told me and nothing more,”

Biul sighed, and shook her head.

“What you have said is true, that the Carrier is the link to Axion. But there is much more to being a Carrier than that. Have you discovered your arbritrary yet?” She asked the question in such an innocent manner that made Legacy somewhat embarrassed when he had to admit that he didn’t know what an arbritary was. Again Biul had to shake her head.

“The energies of Axion, of reality can manifest itself in many ways and in terms of a Carrier they manifest in arbritraries. Arbritraries are powers, abilities that are as unique as the Carrier that wields them. For me it was control over nature, for the Carrier that came before me it was command over Gravity. Usually a Carrier’s arbritary manifests in times of need, the fact that it hasn’t emerged this far along your timeline is frankly disturbing,”

Legacy suddenly got a little worried, well what seemed like worry as the conglomerate of memories that demanded his attention caused his facial expression to constantly change and his worried face was just a mangled version of a slight frown mixed with a nervous eye twitch.

“Why?” Legacy managed to say.

“Your powers first emerge in times of need, and they rank this ‘need’ based on your entire timeline. Of all the peril that you have faced since Esquildor, at least one of those moments would have warranted the emergence of your Arbritrary,”

“So what are you saying?”

“I am saying that whatever you have faced, is nothing compared to what you have in stored for you,” Biul said ominously. Legacy looked down at the floor concerned.

“Is there anything else that I should know?” Legacy asked, frankly he had enough of being kept in the dark, especially from the previous Carrier’s. Carrier Biul placed a hand over her mouth in an inquisitive manner, contemplating what other information that Legacy would need, he expected for her to launch into another explanation of an aspect of life as a Carrier that Legacy should already know. She was about to say something but was distracted, she moved her head slightly to the left angling it in the way someone does when another is talking behind them, Legacy leaned to the right to see if there was anyone present behind her. But alas since Carrier Biul had appeared in front of a wall there was no one behind her. Despite this, the spectre looked as if she was listening intently to a one sided conversation, she nodded and looked back to Legacy’s confused face.

“How old are you?” she responded quite suddenly, ignoring the apparent pain that was affecting Legacy and his previous question.

“Uh, 29, why? Is that important,”

“It might very well be,” spoke a new voice, from the wall behind Biul a new apparition appeared. It walked through the solid mass as if it was nothing. This sudden appearance of the new spectre made Legacy jump up and stumble, falling on the ground he stood up and massaged his head.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked.

“I am Carrier Dihurel, it matters for a very important reason and it is most likely connected to your headaches,”

Legacy perked up, at the mention of the illness that was causing him so much pain.

“How is it connected?”

Both the spectres looked at each other, they seemed to be mentally debating whether or not to inform Legacy of the information that they held. But eventually they seemed to agree on transparency rather than secrecy.

“It has to do with the first Carrier,” Carrier Dihurel said and as he mentioned the original Carrier that had forever sculptured the future of reality itself.

*

Valen opened the basket, inside was numerous trinkets he had bought all hand crafted objects that were typical of a world such as this. But at the bottom of the basket, beneath the trinkets was something that stood out. A lone photo locked within a crystal frame that sparkled as the light filled the basket. Valen reached in and took it out, it was a portrait of a lone man. He was young, around Legacy’s age and had fire red hair that lay flat across his scalp, he had a browning birthmark that ran across the right side of his face. His blue eyes contrasted perfectly with his tanned skin, he wore no armour simply a darkened robe. Words were etched in the language of the Eternal along the outside of the frame.

“To my perfect soldier, let your spirit never be weighed down by the tragedy of this realm”

Valen held back tears as he leant the picture against the trunk of the tree that he sat under, he then proceeded to place the trinkets that he had bought at the marketplace in front of the portrait.

“To my little soldier, I was too late….Far too late,” Valen struggled to make out the words as he could no longer hold back the tears that welled in the corners of his eyes. In the bottom corner of the frame was a lone name.

“Icarus”

Valen sat there for the remainder of the afternoon, sitting in silence, only the sound of the trees and the drips of his tears reminding him that he was still alive. The sun started to set, but Valen didn’t care, there was nothing that could make him care right now.

“You have to stop blaming yourself,” a sudden voice said, a man had appeared behind Valen, he was tall and muscular. There was an air about him that smelt of war, Valen didn’t turn around to look at him as he spoke, he wasn’t surprised that he was here. The man was expecting Valen to respond but when he didn’t he continued to talk.

“What’s it been? Half a million years? There has to be a point where you forgive yourself,”

“And when is that!” Valen spat, tears and siliva flew towards the ground. “It was my fault he was there, it was my fault that he died…All because I was too slow,”

The mystery man took a step forward towards Valen, he bent down and placed a hand over his friend. “There are many things in my life that I regret, perhaps the one that haunts me most is the fact that I didn’t help you,”

“You had a war to win,” Valen said.

“Don’t make excuses for me, after all that I had done I still couldn’t save them all. I thought that I could win the war all by myself, my mind was focused solely on the enemy in the belief that if I did I could save everyone. But I only caused the destruction of so many more lives,”

“Then how did you forgive yourself?”

“Forgive? I never forgave myself and I don’t think I ever will,”

“Then how do you expect me to forgive myself?” Valen said as he turned to face his friend, his face was wet from the tears that fell from his eyes. His friend looked at him with remorse.

“We can only forgive ourselves one life at a time, there isn’t enough years left for me to reconcile with all of them. But you have spent the last Five Hundred Years mourning your son, there comes a time when the memories that haunt us…become just memories,”

Valen wiped the tears from his eyes and stood, he was on par with his friend in terms of height and bulk. Valen smiled, “You know, he’s more like you than you think,” He said.

The two of them looked towards the town, the mysterious man smiled as well and replied “More than you know,”

 

Author's Note

As usual if you could point out grammar mistakes that would be great and please give feedback on how you feel this short story continues from where Fall of Esquildor left off, that would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Reviews

[Symphonic_Sunflowers]

I really enjoyed the flow and the pace! I enjoyed Valen's kindness in the markets :) i also love your imagery, and the way you describe their home! I'd like to give you some pointers with grammar, but I have no place in doing so as I suck tremendously at grammar :P Keep writing, Thomas x

- Chloe