Tales From Aewarus

Legends Never Die

Cedrin cried.

His sobs pierced the night sky, shattering the peace and quiet that enveloped the forest. Birds and beasts fled the sudden sound. A small bruised and broken body lay against the tree, beside it lay the boy's shattered staff, its pieces strewn on the mossy ground. But Cedrin's sadness was not for the broken tool.

With shaking hands, he carefully grasped the length of purple-black shaft that protruded from the remains of his son's bloodied chest.

"No. Speak to me. At least say something! Whisper it! Mumble it! I'll make out what you said! I promise!"

Those eyes! They used to bring me such joy! In times that I felt alone, they cried out with love and longing for my presence. When they closed in sleep, oh! The dreams that I could see where flashing before them! Dreams that will never be seen again by those now lifeless eyes.

With a swift movement he pulled the arcane spear from his offspring's heart. As its glowing blade emerged, so did the hate begin to emerge from his own heart. Coursing through his veins, it flowed from the very essence of his being to the surface of his shattered reality.

He hated it.

All of it.

Everything it stood for, and everything it had driven him to do.

Hate rose from his fingers. A brilliant, flaming red. It grew into spirals that wound their way around his arms and up his neck towards his eyes. Pulsing with growing intensity, revulsion consumed him in a glowing red fury of flame.

With sudden movement, he rose. Raising both his arms upright and outward, he screamed in outrage,

"Flae Gra'atro!"

The Daemon behind him convulsed in mid leap. Immediately the air was filled with flame as the Daemon's chest erupted in fire and blood. Yet the spell only served to momentarily halt the attack as the Daemon reformed.

It's my fault. I let it overpower me. Let it grow and fester, slowly working its way into my soul, into my life, into my love.

The Daemon released a scream that seemed to crush his spirit. The sound that came from the creature's mouth pierced his mind and drove him to his knees and cover his ears with his hands.

My greed for knowledge has killed them. All of those that I once loved. My unbridled curiosity for magic has wrought their destruction. Their memory will now be lost with my final breath.

Drawing a sickly, glowing sword of immense size, the Daemon approached. It lifted its ruthless blade of death to deal the final blow. With intense glee, it brought the weapon down in full force upon the cowering form that stood before it.

Yet a way still remains. I will not let them fade into obscurity. My family will have a place in history.

The forest once again reverberated as magic steel met with spirit-blade.

Kneeling on the ground, the High Elven mage still remained. In his hands, lifted over his head, Cedrin held the staff of his family's lineage. He strained with the effort of stopping the Daemon blade from continuing its deadly descent.

Your memory will live in my story. Your sacrifice remembered in my victories. Your life immortalized in the tomes of the universities as the beginning of the legend that we will become.

With a scream of rage, the Daemon lifted its blade once again. But the next blow never fell. For as the sword was lifted, Cedrin lifted his staff and spoke.

"Ta'Kaa Ur'Uthenel Telaka!"

The sky thundered, and a bolt of pure spiritual magic flung itself down upon the Daemon. It pierced its head and tore through its torso, pinning it to the forest floor. It lived no more.

Never will I forget you my son. I will become the greatest mage this world has ever known. You will become part of a legend. I will uncover and master every magical spell and ritual. I will not be stopped!

Hidden from Cedrin's sight, the Daemon legions cackled and screamed in pure ecstasy. Indeed, Cedrin would be a legend. He would become the most powerful mage yet known to mankind. But not as the hero he imagined. Rather, he would find himself the nightmare leading the Daemon army as it plundered and consumed his world. A few more mortal decades, and they would be unleashed upon the globe.

Tears fell from Cedrin's eyes as he rose and surveyed the carnage the raiding Daemons had left behind. Steeling himself for the long journey to Vivengarde that was ahead. He gave one last glance at his son's lifeless body, and as he turned away he whispered,

"You see my son, Legends never die."