Legacy of the Defender (The Defender Series Book 1) (7 page)

"Can you hear that, Master?”  I asked.

"No, only the wielder hears his songs.  In time, you will not even notice it audibly, for it will be only in your mind.  That is how they will talk to you,” he said.

"That is a shame.  I rather like it," I said.

"Each blade will create sounds as you learn to wield them.  As you perfect your moves, the sounds will diminish, telling you have achieved the synchronous and you are at one with the blades.  You will have to learn their properties and make them your own; the swords ability enhances its wielder.  No two swords are the same, and they will manifest in their own time.  Some abilities are set from creation.  You will have to discover these as well.  It will take many hours of meditation and concentration, aside from practicing each day, to master your new weapons.”

“Thank you, Master,” my bewildered response came in wonder of these finely crafted blades.  His words faded for a few moments, for I was lost in a sea of thoughts.  These new instruments of death had a feel all to themselves.  I probably missed something important for he was still speaking when my focus returned. 

"Tonight I suggest you meditate with each blade separately, then together.  It will seal the blending process and allow growth and discovery to begin."  Mathias sat down on his mat.  I stood swinging the swords calmly.  The moving blades created a beautiful duet of unintelligible words.  A trance like state came over me. 

The night passed.

Mathias left before I awoke the next morning, leaving me a note.  Reading over it, my emotions elevated gently in the fond memories of his teaching.  He told me I would see him soon as his duties had taken him back to where he came from to resolve some things.  It was time for me to prepare for the next leg of my journey.  I never had an opportunity to thank him for his instruction.  He was, after all, Heavens weapons master and had been teaching people to fight since the beginning.  I could only imagine how long that must have been.

I spent the day meditating with each blade before returning to the camp to find my teacher was waiting for me.  Malnuras greeted me in his usual way, with a nod, almost never locking gazes with me.  We used a portal that Malnuras opened with a ring he wore, taking us back to the original campsite where I met my Master for the first time.  I let my pack drop on my bedding, but the box for the blades, I gently lay down and opened to reveal the pride of my existence.  From behind me came a voice. 

"You have earned some rest my young swordsman.  I see you have your blades now, so your focus needs to be on finishing the melding process," he said.

"Yes, Teacher.  The next leg of my training is about to begin I was told."

"You are correct," he replied as he pulled a book from his pack and began to read.

A few weeks passed, by my guess, each day filled with conditioning and fighting.  On one particular day, Malnuras sat to my left up on a small bluff.  He was eating some sort of root that he had found earlier that day.  Even though his attention was elsewhere, he always knew when mistakes of mine happened, for he would call them out to me during each encounter.  Mistakes did happen, but due to the limited number of assailants, there was little danger yet.  I felt he was going to challenge me very soon with something big.

For several days, my teacher directed the fights to gage my skills again.  This last group consisted of about three-dozen large leapers and a several medium flyers.  I wiped my blades clean on the grass.  The gore these creatures left behind was visually disgusting, but the smell after battle was intoxicating.  Blood and ichor had a curious scent.  It fueled the bloodlust within me to continue the righteous vengeance.  I controlled it to this point, but did take a moment or two to realize my enemies were all dead.  Sheathing my swords, I strode up the hill to where he sat.  My backside found a rock to sit upon to await my battle evaluation.  It took longer and longer with each one since fewer mistakes happened, and the number of foes increased.  I felt confident by this time.  My work had been flawless in my eyes.

Some time passed before Malnuras spoke.  I had enough time to walk through the battle in my head three times before he broke the silence.  My anticipation was always great.  I hated my own failures and shortcomings with a passion.  Each encounter I tried to incorporate his finding to avoid making the same mistake.  It was easy for the most part.  Occasionally in the past, his assistance was required to avoid serious injury.  Fear had not been part of me for some time now.  Even though he kept a pretty sharp eye on me during the battle, it was hard to tell he was watching, as his attention seemed to be elsewhere.  Yet he always knew what happened and could criticize where needed.

“Your choice of technique has me curious,” he began.  I was just finishing replaying it in my mind as he spoke.  Sometimes his cryptic way drove me crazy.  He might have a point, but there had not been any bad choices this fight.

“Teacher, at what point did you feel that I was not one with the fight?”  I asked.  He always seemed to pause before sharing his assessment.  It made me feel better if I could catch the error so I started to go over the engagement aloud in the manner he usually preferred.

“You let them get too close before you deliver the killing stroke.  Your energy is vulnerable to attack.  Always remember there are many ways the enemy can attack you.  Strike each opponent down before he reaches you.  This will ensure that both physically and spiritually you are safe.  Fighting two battles at once is never a favored strategy.  Next time defeat them before they get too close, or you might find yourself under siege mentally.  They must get close for you to feel those effects.  Very few of them can assault you at range in this manner,” he said.  “Their close proximity to your life force is a threat.  Remember that.  They will drain you.”

Taking his words to heart, I came to a realization.  It was true.  I did wait until they got close.  Something about seeing the life fade from their eyes made it more satisfying.  I could not help it.  In my lessons, Malnuras had never been very clear about what made the daemons so deadly until now.  Even though he closely monitored the training, I still felt some of the actual danger involved even in such small numbers.  My reaction to this was to try to make the battle a challenge and not go for the kill too soon.  Part of me wanted them to suffer also.  My strategy was working so far.  I had not lost any battles yet, but the odds told me it would happen eventually.

He knows I want to take my time, but knowing they can drain energy…

“Now get down there and do it again.  Do not wait so long to strike, for if too many get in close, I will not be able to get to you before they eat your intestines.”  He gave me a sideways look then returned to the root he was peeling with is teeth.  Lord knows what it was.  It was rare that he had me fight two battles back to back.  I always wondered how it was that he could sense when there was going to be more daemons, or if he had a way of conjuring them up.  Part of me wondered if they were just a clever illusion.  Maybe, for training purposes, they were not even real.

I leaped off the rock and noticed that the descent took a few seconds longer than normal. 
Did I just float?
  During the past weeks, there had been a change in how the lessons started.  While dropping, I saw the next set of daemons flying in a formless pack and heading my direction.  Why they always found me down below instead of harassing Malnuras was a bit of a puzzle.  Dumb question!  My feet touched down and I readied myself.  My teacher’s words still in my mind, I panned the skies.

There were over fifty of them, large enough for me to see several thousand feet away.  As I completed my count, I felt my stomach sink.  This was the largest group of this size I had ever faced, by more than half, the last group being only several dozen.  I looked back to the bluff.  Malnuras was actually watching me at the time.  I did not know if that was good or bad, but part of me found comfort in feeling his eyes at my back.  I knew he grossly understated how fast he could move.  Yet I did not want to test the theory.

In swooped my enemies.

“For the Defenders!”  I bellowed, calling both swords to action.

Why this cry escaped my pursed lips puzzled me.  I am not sure where it came from, but energy coursed through me.  My soul was on fire.  Heat poured from my hands, engulfing my blades.  Down the edges it ran, enveloping them in some sort of Eldridge fire.  I was rather hypnotized for a brief moment, watching the flames dance from the metal.  This was new.

I crouched down, taking one last look at the mystical flames dancing on the swords and leapt.  Out snapped my arms as I rotated to the right.  My left arm rolled over, so both blades were leading the spin.  The move was predictable because the daemons acted as if they anticipated it.  All but the last three pulled out of my path.  I sliced the first two in twain.  The third took a mortal wound, leaving trails of blood as it plunged downward.

My ascent came to a crescendo.  I started to drop.  I stopped my rotation to get a bearing on my enemies.  Although they did not travel in formations, they did attack in them.  A most common tactic was a wedge or spearhead.  While its original use was to penetrate enemy lines, they used it in an attempt to surround me. 

They circled behind me, where I anticipated they would be.  What surprised me was they split into two groups: one of about thirty and one of twenty.  I touched back down, trying to posture for my next move.  My mind began to race through the scenarios that Master had taught me.  They were obviously trying to flank me.  How could I use this to my advantage?  Watching for clues, I studied each of them. 

Maybe I could use one group as a shield while attacking the other.

The smaller group dove in and I charged at them before leaping.  At the last moment before engaging, they broke off and swooped away.  While turning to track them, it hit me; or I should say they hit me, on my flank.  The larger of the two groups swung around.  Upon impact, claws, teeth, and horns took their toll.  My feet met the soil then legs collapsed.  Down I went; one of my swords slipped from my grasp.  All I could do was strike side to side with the other.

My desperate flailing was working.  Two of them to my left took deep wounds and disengaged from me.  I continued my fury of blows, striking at all quarters of my surrounding area.  One to my right fell, missing its head, but not before it had opened up my right leg.  The blood flowed freely down my thigh.

A quick glance of the battlefield revealed that some surrounded me, and others dove at me from the sky.  I needed my other blade and fast.  Amidst my strikes, a glint twenty feet away caught my eyes.  The blade’s fire had gone out, as had the flame on the on in my hand.  With frustration, a roar bellowed forth, and from a crouched position, my legs exploded into action.  The wind felt good on my face.  A trail of my blood fell to the soil below.  The daemons responded in kind, and four took to the sky to join the others.  Six of them were down, and I was bleeding badly.

Landing with a roll, my hand found my other hilt as my feet took a firm stance.  Dizziness overtook me for a moment, and I refocused my eyes.  The one group had joined the others and had formed a spearhead.  They dove right at me. 
This was going to take perfect timing
.  Just as they neared, right outside my reach, I stepped and spun to the left.  Both blades flashed out to my right side.  Half a dozen hits found their mark as the flock drove right through my original location.  The blood showered the ground, followed by an assortment of daemon parts.  Many untouched daemons pulled up, as I continued my spin.  Up they went, running for the safety of the sky.  Tracking their trajectory, I had no doubts they were running to get help.  Something inside me felt I had made a grave mistake in my tactics that day.

I struggled to focus on my own healing.  Activating it should have been second nature, but the energy would not flow.  I tried not to focus on the situation and found a point of serenity to open the pathways and allow the healing to activate. 

Nothing happened.

My legs gave out, slamming my knees into the soil hard.  The shame of losing to such a small number brought emotions to the surface, fueled by rage.  They were not much larger than the smallest ones I had fought previously, but still they were about the size of a large man.  My head felt lighter than usual. 

“It figures,” I laughed as the darkness took its hold. 
Where was Malnuras?  I did not even have time to look to the bluff.  Was he coming?

My vision blurred at the sight of my enemy taking more pieces of me. 

A voice in my head coincided with the sound of my blades clattering to the ground.  “You waited too long,” it said.

Darkness came.

VI

Bigger and Badder

Never in my life had I imagined such a beast. 

For something so huge and hideous, a measure of grace surrounded its flight.  Four pairs of leathery hide wings beating as one synchronous heartbeat carried this monstrosity to its destination.  I could see it had at least three sets of limbs.  Two were for walking; the other seemed to be arms for grabbing.  Huge talons sliced the air while it wiggled its fingers in anticipation.  It was starting to go for the bait.  Soon I would make my move.

The remnants of the scent gland I had salvaged from the smaller female made the perfect lure.  The battle to retrieve the gland was the worst idea I had ever managed to use in my favor.  Malnuras had been working with me on various tactics and tutoring me on my daemon lore for quite some time now.  The plan was simple, or so it seemed.  I was to lie in cover at a mating spot used by the daemons.  Had I not trained the greatest warrior in Heaven, there would be no way that I could have even thought of assaulting such a beast.

The weave of the planes energy was strongest here.  Any mating that took place near the nexus point yielded a higher chance of mutation.  With my own eyes, I had studied the process.  It was quite disgusting.  Like the praying mantis of Earth, the male died in the process.  The result was not just one offspring, but hundreds.  Daemons mated constantly.  A large infiltration was about to take place, so they needed greater numbers to swell the ranks.  Gestation for the species was brief, requiring just a few days to birth new daemons.

Neither of us had anticipated the arrival of several females in the previous fight.  In his experience, they never went to the same spot.  Fights usually ensued for the right to use the nexus point.  The presence of the other two females remained hidden until it was too late.  Although I walked away from that battle, I bore horrible scars that would take time to fade. 

My mind returned to the present. 

The male landed and walked forward to where the scent gland lay buried.  I had to guarantee he would land.  My tactic worked.  It clawed at the ground with its huge talons the size of large sword blades.  While it was stationary and busy, I got a better look.  Its long dragon-like body was rather disgusting to look at.  How this thing could be so graceful in flight, I did not know.  Large knots from old wounds covered its back and wings.  It had no scales either, only thick, ugly skin.  Even from a distance, the smell was enough to make me wretch.  I never would have imagined that one of these monster’s best defenses was to assault my ole factory lobe.  Learning the anatomy of my enemy did, however, make me more efficient at dispatching them.

I had one distinct tactical advantage: speed.  This thing moved so slowly on the ground that it was virtually ineffective.  My agility on the ground was superior.  I looked forward to carving him open, but had to wait for the exact moment that he uncovered the small hole.  It was to be a small distraction.  My hope was that it would give me enough time to close the distance where the dance of death could begin.

The daemon removed the camouflage placed over the hole faster than anticipated.  The sheer size of its hands made short work of my trap.  I sprang into action.  My strides lengthened as my speed increased.  I would be on my prey within moments.  A roar announced my ruse failed.  

Its large head swung left then right, buying me the extra seconds I needed since the bait failed to hold his attention long enough.  As the gigantic head came to my side of his body, a buffet from his four wings nearly knocked me over.  I turned my body and spun to my right with both swords out trying to use centrifugal force to keep me on target.  My swords came in a low upward arc.  They bit flesh hard.  First blood fell to me, a small victory. 

I had its undivided attention now.

I began to weave and strike, trying to cripple its wings in order to keep it on the ground.  With the ferocity in which they beat, the creature’s wings added to the damage with their own force.  In flashed my swords as I spun out of the way of its lethal claws.  My reaction was not soon enough.  A voice broke my concentration.

“Tathlyn!”

Who in the world was that?  My movement faltered a fraction of a second.

My anticipation of the creature’s next move came a moment too late.  I dealt with two sets of claws and his taloned feet now.  Dodging one pair of claws moved me into the path of the other.  A mistake soon realized. 

My swords parried nothing.  Redirecting these monstrous talons was the best I could do.  It had faster speed with its hand-like claws than anticipated.  Its feet were slower, but they had all that weight behind them.  I had to keep moving and stay out from under it as it tried to herd me into its kill zones.

“Tathlyn!” 
The word came louder.

Its coordinated attacks were proving to be too much.  I had underestimated my opponent.  I could hear my master’s voice in my head, scolding me for losing the tactical advantage.  Why he was saying someone else's name was wrecking my flow.  I had to refocus.  His analysis started to enter my mind, as if he was speaking.  Yet the voice was off.  It was even deeper.

Strange. 

If it was not my teacher trying to get my attention then who was it?  Why now?  I already knew his assessment.  The creature’s blind spots should make it an easy opponent.  Taking advantage of those blind spots was my goal, but this damn voice in my head was throwing me off.  I know both He and Malnuras could mentally speak to me. 

That still messed me up
.

There was no clue in my head what Malnuras really was.  I was sure that Mathias was an angel, though...which made sense, for angels were very powerful.  He thought me to be asleep one time when he took off his armor...Pretty sure I saw an outline of wings.  So it made sense to me this was a racial enemy to him.  He had a clear advantage over me, though:  thousands of years of fighting under his belt and being the best swordsman and warrior that Heaven had to offer.  I often wondered why they chose me for this task instead of someone like him. 

It was mankind’s destiny to save itself.  My opinion may not be the same on that, but question or debating with Master proved painful more than once.  He had a very martial way of proving his point, which I soon learned was my point after our “discussions” ended with me lying bloody on the ground.  We would respectfully disagree often.

I learned to stop whining about it even if it was just a question and made a habit of asking him with my weapon in hand.  In Earth’s culture, this would have been a sign of disrespect to hold steel when asking a question to a superior but his answers were in the form of lessons.  Memories of those past years brought a smile to my face.  My Master helped mold me in ways that gratitude could not repay.

I had drifted again.  The voice came again louder this time.  "Tathlyn!”

The monster’s roar pulled me back from nostalgia.  My movements had been automatic.  I had to stop letting my mind wander while I fought.  I needed to be more than present.

Minor cuts began to add up.  They might have only been nicks, but there were tens of tons, if not more, of mass behind those claws, and my own blood flowed freely from the lacerations.  Even though I could regenerate wounds in a short time frame after the battle, my instincts told me the threat was great.  With each attempt to "parry" performed, more of my life’s essence escaped.  I began to panic a bit and realized that some slight sensations in my extremities were beginning to fade.  There had to be some sort of poison or nerve agent on the claws.  It was no wonder that these creatures were the biggest and hardest to kill.  They only had to strike a few times and wait.  As my heart began to race beyond the influence of adrenalin, my lightheaded stature grew.

“This is it, either Malnuras is going to jump in, or it is curtains,” I thought, trying to send just that to him.

My focus began to wane.  My strikes became less effective.  My strength faded, raising concerns…that I staunched before panic set in.  My options closed fast.

A thought hit me. 
If I can heal after a battle, why not now during the battle?
  I began to refocus my sword on defense, while my mind was searching for tranquility and peace within.  For several moments, I dodged and avoided attacks while attempting to stop my own bleeding and re-knit the damaged flesh.  My eyes felt heavy as I fell into a rhythm, trying to stay alive.  Weights felt attached to my upper eyelids.  They got lower and lower.  Finally, a surge of energy hit me.

Healing energy pulsated through my limbs, driving back the fatigue that was taking me.  The tingling sensation of flesh rejoining caused an itching on my skin.  My eyes no longer felt weighted and the adrenaline rush returned.  I was about to wonder if the poison was going to get counter acted when a sudden furiousness returned to my arms and my timing re-synchronized my blades.  I deflected the talons that came dangerously close to hitting something vital other than flesh and began countering the attacks.  It worked.  Why had I not thought of this before?  Why had my teacher not mentioned it?  The answer eluded me as I changed my focus to biting my blades deeper into my enemy.

The battle was not going my way.  It was ironic to a small degree.  Careful planning had gone out the window in the first few seconds of the fight.  I suddenly remembered playing chess with my grandfather.  His strategies allowed him to perform several attacks at once in several locations on the board.  Even with the one victory achieved against him, I was a move or two away from losing that game. 

Interesting how a game taught students strategy.  Maybe I should have paid more attention.  My mind snapped back to my own battle again as both sets of claws slammed into the ground on either side of me with such force that I came off my feet.  A blood curdling scream came from the creature’s mouth.  I felt momentary terror.  My muscles froze and contracted as if one giant cramp hit my body at once.  I fell to the ground, twitching uncontrollably.  The panic turned into fear and fear into terror.  I could not move. 

The ground around me fractured and loose dirt and stone showered me.  Gargantuan claws pulled free from the stone.  Debris rained down on me, pounding me with earth for several seconds.  Whatever had healed before was now bruised and broken again.  My weapons barely stayed in my grip; only sheer willpower kept them there.  Despair rolled over me like an avalanche.  Not being able to move meant the battle was over.  The terror was in full swing now. 

The ground shuddered with a terrific heave of energy as the grotesque creature slammed its full weight on me.  A monster had never crushed me before today.  My frame compressed and every nerve fiber in my body cried out in pain.  Pressure spread across my nervous system in waves of incredible pain.  My weapons were in front of me in a cross guard pattern and the blades bit into the flesh across my chest.  The beast crushed the life out of me.  Darkness was moments away. 

A voice, as clear as if my teacher was next to me, echoed in my ears.  “You are limiting yourself.  Let go of reality.  It does not exist here my pupil.”  Tears flowed freely from my eyes making mud out of the dirt where my face lay half buried.  I openly wept and began to scream at the top of my lungs.  Fear turned to rage.  Every sinuous strand and tendon flexed and tore.  My muscles protested greatly at the approaching fate. 

Words repeatedly rang in my mind like a beating drum.  How could he stand there when I was about to die?  My death would be more horrible than any other ever seen in a movie, read in a book, or seen from my literal history lessons.  I heard tendons snapping in my arms and the weight fell on me even harder, forcing a crimson cough to fill my mouth.  The effects of no air took the rest of me gradually.  Seconds felt like minutes.  Every section of my lungs filling with blood forced the remaining air to bubble out from the punctures.  I expected to hear a final crunch and an explosion of pain.  Instead, warmth on my face suddenly appeared.  I anticipated seeing the monster’s maw open before me.  I opened one eye and looked around.  I was on the hillside sitting next to Mathias.

“Okay, this is new,” I said.

He pointed out over a valley and spoke again.  "Tathlyn."

I opened my other eye and turned my head.  A forest clearing looked familiar.  The monstrosity was on top of me.  It was hard to believe that somewhere under it was my body dying.  The creature had both of its taloned claws on me, like it was doing pulmonary resuscitation on the ground, only it was not hard to deduce what was under his large claws.  It was grinding me into the ground. 

A slight horror factor enveloped me over the seriousness of this mess.  Then it caught my eye.  The smallest of ironies or acts of defiance could sway the odds sometimes.  Protruding ever so slightly out the top of its hands, I could see the two small tips of my swords.  I smiled knowing even a gnat can be troublesome.

“Well, at least I am not going to die without messing his hands up.”  I felt a slight smack on the back of my head as Mathias’s hand returned to his side.  I did not even see it move to start with, only to resettle at his side and back into his lap. 

“Look again,” he said. 

“At what?  I am dead.”  Another smack with a bit more force, yet I reveled in the fact it was about one thousandth of what he could do.  Even though I knew my view and outlook at life was now different from his, he still stood over me and commanded that respect like a parent.  I looked back at the scene below me and took it apart piece by piece.  A big nasty daemon crushed me under its paws and my swords stuck through its flesh.  Then I noticed not only was it motionless, but also there were no sounds of it screaming.  The flying daemons hovered motionless in flight around the larger one.  Time stopped.  “Did you do that?”  I asked expecting him to swat me harder this time.