Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Legacy of the Winds ❯ Book 0 Prologue/chapter1/chapter2 ( Chapter 1 )

The Legacy of the Winds

By Leo Half Bauncho

 

Prologue

 

Kibbi and his friends gathered around the fire, anxious for Elder Cam to begin his tail. The night was perfect for story telling. The stars shone brightly, and the cold north wind blew softly. Finally, after sitting and rubbing his hand together, he was ready.

 

“Tonight children, I shall impart to you a tail far older than I. A tale that is has become little more than legend among our people. However, I assure you that this tale is as true as the fact that I sit before you tonight. Are you ready to hear it?” he asked with a smile.

 

Kibbi spoke for his friends. “Yes Elder, please, tell us, tell us!”

 

Again Elder Cam smiled. “Very well. Now, you all know the legend of the Winds, The four protectors who roam the land with their animal partners, and keep the balance. They protect us from those who seek power, who wish to rule, who bring chaos. North is of Ice, South is of Fire, West is of Earth, and East is the power of nature. The legacy of the winds is quite different. It is only about 100 years old. It began when the East Wind turned to the dark, turned to a quest for power. He heard a prophecy, that he should one day rule all the land. He did not believe. Then, he was corrupted by power, when he absorbed a dark power to keep it out of the wrong hands. He failed, for it turned out his were the wrong hands. It drove him mad, and he set out to conquer all. When the other Winds tried to stop him, he destroyed them. First the North Wind fell. Then the South Wind was destroyed. The West Wind made a valiant stand, backed by the Santu warriors of the Western desert tribes, the best in all Suunrisal. That is where my tale shall begin.

 

Chapter 1

 

Kaishaa looked at his opponent, champion of the once mighty Santus, the West Wind Micross. He was large, and strong, typical of the Western tribes from which he came. Today would decide the fate of the world of Suunrisal. His mighty army had easily defeated all who opposed him in his conquest. Today would be no different. Micross, last of the winds left living to oppose him, would soon join their two brothers in death, and then the world would be his.

 

“Remember Kaishaa, you swore that if you killed me, you would still let my men go free. On your oath as a Wind, even a dark wind can't break that promise.” Shouted Micross, with a grim air.

 

Kaishaa smiled. If Micross was reminding him of that, then he must have decided he wasn't going to survive this fight. Unfortunately, he was right. He had sworn on his oath on a wind, and if he intended to keep his power, he wouldn't be able to break it. “I remember Micross, you need have no fear of that. You should be more concerned about your own life. But also remember, your men must cast aside all their weapons once you are dead.”

 

“I don't intend to die.”

 

Fool, you were dead as soon as you accepted this challenge, he thought, and best of all, he knew that, despite his words. He grinned. “Shall we begin?” Micross nodded, then charged. Kaishaa grinned again, then slipped his knife out of its sheath and threw it, almost casually, into Micross's throat. The fool always did have trouble remembering to cover that particular weak spot. In a way it was a pity, as it would have been fun to have a good fight for once. But an opportunity for an easy victory should never be passed up. He watched as Micross fell to the ground, gasping as he failed to draw in air through his severed wind pipe, writhing in pain as the poison from the tip of the knife spread through his body. And thus did the mighty fall. Hope of a million people, Warrior and Protector, West Wind, the final Point of light, fall to the earth in agonizing death.

 

He shouted to his men. “The West Wind is dead! Your Great Lord has defeated his final enemy. I now rule all this Land!” The men cheered.

 

The reaction from the Santus was quite the opposite. Some stared in disbelief, others wept openly. One stepped forward, followed by 5 others; all that remained of the once famed Jegans, the leaders of the Santu tribes. The first approached him, while the remaining five stepped forward to claim the body of their fallen leader and friend. “Lord, as was promised, we shall disarm and disband. But I beg of you, allow us to properly bury our Lord Micross.”

 

Kaishaa seemed to stand in thought for a few moments, then said simply, “No. I shall not allow that. His body shall be taken back to my palace, and fed to Stalker.”

 

The Jegan stared in disbelief. Kaishaa laughed. Then he turned to his general. “Send some men and take his body. Have the sorcerers withdraw the poison, then take it back to the city.” To the Jegan, he said, “You and your men shall pile your weapons over there, then you shall disband and return to the desert land you came from.”

 

The man, tears in his eyes in the face of such cruelty, at the loss of his lord, at the loss of the light, turned and walked back to his men. Several of The Dark Wind's own soldiers went out and collected the body of the once mighty West Wind.

 

* * *

 

 

Shadow watched the soldiers as they loaded the body onto a cart, and whipped the horses forward. This would not do, no, would not do at all. Such disrespect for one so good was not only unwarranted, it required punishment. These men would have to learn a lesson. Not that it would do them much good, as they wouldn't be around to put it to use. The sun was setting, and it would soon be dark enough for Shadow to make his move.

 

The soldiers never saw it coming. One minute the point was striding forward with the lantern, next all the lights were gone, and the point was screaming. The soldier fell into confusion, as one by one they were killed. Through it all the horses stood still, for in their eyes was a light that was bright and comforting. The light that is hidden amidst the darkness. The light which was The Shadow. When he was finished with the soldiers, he turned to the horses, and directed them toward the desert. “Micross, fear not, your body will be buried as befits a warrior of your station and stature. You will be returned to your people.”

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Kaishaa looked down at the child. “Micross's son you say? How is it that he is in our hands?” They were in a high vaulted room. Kaishaa sat upon his throne.

 

The soldier bowed. “We found him in the woods. He bore his father's bracelet, so he knew he had to be the son of Micross. How he came to be in the woods, we don't know.” The soldier stepped back and watched for a sign from his lord.

 

The Dark Wind looked to his companion, the black lion, Stalker. What think you, Stalker? The lion looked at Kaishaa. How he comes to be there, it matters not. Imagine, if he could be raised to serve you. The Son of Micross, serving the Lord of the land, serving the man who killed his father. And there can be no doubt he will be a great warrior. But be sure that no curse or spell rests upon him that could disrupt such things.

 

“Yes, an excellent idea.” Turning to the soldier, he said, “Take him to the sorcerers, that they can remove any curses or spell upon the child that could cause him to make trouble or turn against us. Then send him to quarters that shall be made for him, and put him in charge of a skilled nurse. He shall be raised to serve me. At least we get something from Micross, since he has somehow cheated us of his body.”

 

He prepared to rise from his throne when the doors burst down. In between two guards, was a boy, about 12 years old. He was struggling wildly, try to break free. He almost succeeded, but a third guard rushed up and grabbed hold.

 

“What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this brat into my presence?” Kaishaa said angrily. He looked at the boy. Scrawny, but he was tall for his age, and he was most certainly a fighter. Then he saw the eyes. They were cold, like the sheen of clean steel.

 

 

“He was trying to steal food from the palace kitchens. A guard caught him. He killed the guard with this.” A soldier came forward carrying an unusual sword. The blade was long and thin, razor sharp, with a beautiful sheen. The handle was of golden color, with a green gem set in the hilt, just below the blade. The pommel was reminiscent of the eye of a needle. “Some kitchen staff saw the incident, and raised the alarm. He killed two more guards before we could catch him. I felt that since we had no orders concerning what to do with kids that are good enough to kill three guards, and since he was carrying that sword, which we recognized might be magical, he should be brought before you.” The Sergeant bowed and stepped back.

 

Kaishaa eyed the boy. “Bring him forward. What is your name boy?”

 

The boy looked him in the eye, without the slightest hint of fear. “Zach. Zach Mercanice.” He stated it matter-of-factly, with head held high, as though proud of his name. Not surprising that he should be proud of the name, as a street urchin like him was bound to have given it to himself.

“Zach, how did you get that sword, and where did you learn to use it?” The Dark Wind inquired.

 

“My master taught me, he gave me the sword too. Said it belonged to me, and that no one else could use it, said it wouldn't let them.” He continued to look straight at Kaishaa, almost unnerving him. Almost.

 

Kaishaa looked back. “You lie. You probably stole that sword.” Turning to a guard, he said, “Pick up the sword and show him that he lies.”

 

The guard did as ordered, if a bit nervously. He picked up the sword, but before he could swing, a blast of thunder came from the blade, accompanying a bolt of lighting that struck the man in the chest and burned right through. He died instantly.

 

Kaishaa stared in disbelief at the corpse of the man. Looked at the boy, then suddenly grinned. “How would you like to become a master swordsman? You can keep your sword. And you'll get a nice bed, and good food and care. All you have to do is swear loyalty to me.” He smiled at Zach, and spoke in a reassuring tone.

 

Zach looked at him, then at the sword, then at his stomach. He repeated the process several times, then finally said, “I swear. I swear upon my sword to serve you.”

 

Kaishaa did not fail to notice the “my,” but that didn't matter, the boy would be keeping the sword, since it certainly appeared as if only he could use it. And because he had sworn upon such a magically object, he wouldn't be breaking that oath anytime soon, if ever. That blade certainly seemed filled with powerful elemental magic.

 

“Send him to a room, give him food and clothes. If he likes, have a servant give him a tour of the palace and grounds. And send someone to find the best swords teacher in the city. He will start his new training tomorrow.” This he said to one of guards standing at the door. With that he turned and this time, he did make it out of the room, though not much farther. A Voice stopped him.

 

“Beware my lord. Actions you have today taken can have severe consequences. Be ever vigilant.”

 

Though dead, winds are not gone.

Though beaten, flames of hope have not gone out.

Stand ever at watch, for days come

When ones shall arise to take up the mantle

Of the not so long past past

For though Light has passed on,

Another light ignites

And the longer is glows,

The more certain your defeat

 

The voice belonged to the soothsayer that had first set him on the path to his destiny. “You are the last of the winds, but that can be quick to change.”

 

Kaishaa looked at her. “Leave me be, old woman. What you say is nothing. The winds are gone. My enemies last hope is no more.” He walked off to his chambers.

 

“Beware my lord, beware.” With that she glided away, disappearing forever, never again to walk in mortal lands.