Legon Ascension
Prologue
Taken
“No matter how hard we try to ignore it, the world we don’t recognize is still there.”
-The Exiled Captain (Author Unknown)
Rachel made her way home. She’d spent a lovely day with Timothy, her one true love—or at least that’s what her sixteen-year-old heart told her he was. She trotted home letting her dress swirl around her and waved as she passed her best friend Pamela’s house. Pamela was more of a tomboy with her tough attitude and meaty frame, but Rachel thought she was wonderful.
Dinner was normal. Rachel daydreamed and her mother and father tried to talk to her, but, like most teenagers, she wasn’t much for sharing. The night was cool when she went to bed, so she closed her window and settled into a dream of Timothy. She sighed in contentment.
A sound woke her…what was it? It sounded like screams from outside. Still half asleep, Rachel went to open the window when her father burst in the room.
“Rachel, Rachel honey, come on, we need to leave!” he said frantically.
Why did they need to leave? With a snap of her father’s fingers she thought of everyone in town talking about the Iumenta that had been watching them. Feeling scared, she moved with her father to the living room. There was yelling and more screaming outside. Her mother was downstairs putting food in a bag. The door of the house burst open and Rachel’s father shoved her into a closet as four black armored figures entered the house.
She heard her mother scream and her dad yell “Get off my wife!” Then there was a thud, the sound of something being dragged, and her mother screaming “NO!” Rachel, her heart pounding, knelt, looking out of the crack at the bottom of the door. A pool of blood made its way to her and she saw just a glimpse of brown hair that matched her father’s. She moved to the wall, clamping her eyes shut, “No no no no no!” she whispered.
There was a sound from upstairs. What was it? Another cry that sounded like her mother…was she still alive? Fear and the need to stay alive finally won out. As she opened the door of the closet and confirmed her father’s death and mother’s absence, she bolted for the door.
Shame filled her as she left her mother to whatever fate she was enduring, but Rachel had to run. The streets were pandemonium. People in black armor were hacking people to death. Men’s, women’s and children’s bodies littered the streets. She slammed into one of the black figures and screamed as he raised a war hammer to hit her. Then, with a crunch, the man fell to the side, revealing Pamela with a skillet.
“Come on, we need to get to the town center to make a stand!” Pamela was a fighter.
They ran as fast as they could to the town center where a small band of men and women were making a last stand. Pamela joined the fight, swinging her skillet with as much force as she could muster. Rachel, watching the people get slaughtered, sank to the ground. Finally, the majority of the town’s people were lost, and those that were left were injured or gave up. Counting Rachel and Pamela, there were maybe ten people left.
The black figures surrounded them and Rachel was sure that she was going to die or be dragged off like the other people she had seen. The figures parted and an Iumenta walked up to the survivors, his gray skin fading in the moonlight and his yellow eyes boring into Rachel’s.
Chapter One
Plans
“Reality is a matter of perspective, loss, gain, sorrow, joy they depend on where you are sitting. By altering perspective one can change the world.”
-Diary of the
There was the glint of metal as the fenrra cut flesh and bone. Kovos’ head detached in slow motion, turning in the air to bounce on the ground. As his face turned, his eyes bore into hers and he whispered, “Emma.”
Sasha woke with a start, straightening up in bed. She was covered in sweat, her breathing ragged “
Dream Sasha, dream!
” she told herself. She smacked her tongue in her mouth as she tasted for bile, but there was none. “
Another night free,
” she thought. Since the battle at the precipice, Sasha’s episodes had been coming on once or twice a day, but for the last two days she had been fine. Her dreams were normally about the battle: seeing lines of color streak the sky as dragons fought, the roars of familiars, and the screams of men. But last night was different—a nightmare, yes, but not of the battle. Instead, she watched as Kovos died. His disembodied head spoke to her, saying the name of the girl he intended to marry back in their hometown of Salmont. This made her think of her own loved ones back home. Both she and Legon thought of them often, but presently there wasn’t anything that they could do to contact them.
Her mind reached out to the dragon dome, and the room was bathed in soft honey tones. She pushed back her sheets, which were wet with her nightmare’s sweat, swung her legs off the side of the bed, and planted her feet on the warm wooden floor. Mornings were her time of remembrance, or at least they had become that since the battle and her episodes increased. Every morning she would replay the last few months: their escape from Salmont and journey to Salkay, being attacked by royal guard, finding Sara, Kovos dying, Legon turning into an Elf. Eventually her mind would stop after she replayed memories of coming to the dragon dome and the battle.
She made her way to the bathroom of her apartment. She was in a different one since her arrival to the dragon dome. Sara and Keither were now staying in the human barracks and Sasha and Legon shared an apartment. Her mind reached out to his room where he still slept. She disrobed and stepped into the shower, her own peace of paradise, letting its steam and heat clear her mind. This morning, however, all she could see when her eyelids slid shut was Kovos, and she was thankful for the hot water that washed away her tears.
* * * * *
Legon woke from a dreamless sleep, his mind feeling Sasha dwelling on Kovos and their family as she got ready for her day. He blocked his mind, not wanting to think about either. His stress levels were high enough without thinking about that which he could not help at the moment. Instead, his eyes shifted over to a leather-bound book on his nightstand, the title in Elvish and the contents about the one thing Legon feared more than any foe—public speaking. This too he pushed from his mind as he rose to get ready for the day.
Brushing one’s teeth was common in the Empire, but not like this. The bushes in the dragon dome were attached to the walls with thin vines and when you put them in your mouth they vibrated quickly, cleaning your teeth. He liked it now, but at first he hadn’t. When he was done his teeth felt…well, slimy, and it took him awhile to figure out that’s how teeth were supposed to feel—not slimy, but smooth and polished.
Like Sasha, Legon loved the shower. He stepped inside, sliding his finger over the little ridge that controlled the water. As steam built, his mind drifted off and time slowed with each breath of the thick air. The hot water ran down Legon’s body, taking with it the stress and worries of the last few weeks. Most of those worries consisted of how he was supposed to be a leader, and what to do about the war between the free lands and the Cona and Impa Empires. Also, he was now a public figure, one that would be expected to address his people and that of a nation. How was he to do that? Legon knew he was a man of action; he woke up, went to work, maybe got in a fight, and he would do whatever it took to protect those around him. But inspire and lead them? That was something that was entirely foreign to him. The water of the shower only gave a temporary reprieve, but a welcome one nonetheless. Once he was done and dressed, Legon stepped into the main room. Sydin was there waiting for him and Sasha, and didn’t seem to notice Legon as he entered. Sydin’s eyes were unfocused. Legon figured he was in a meeting or something. Sydin wouldn’t care if Legon looked in his head to see what he was doing, but Legon didn’t want to pry. If it was important then Sydin would tell him.
In truth, Legon didn’t want any attention at the moment. The reprieve from stress and cares the shower lent him was over. Legon’s mind was once again filled to the point of overflowing. Presently Sasha joined them in the common room, carrying her shoes in her right hand. They were a sparkly silver that matched her dress. Sasha plopped herself down on one of the cushy white couches and proceeded to put them on.
“Are you two ready?” She asked.
Sydin shook his head. “Oh, sorry, I was talking to Telunone of House Paldin.”
House Paldin was one of the great houses of the Elvin Empire, or Pawdin Empire, to be correct. House Paldin was the house that gathered all of the great Elvin houses together in order to meet the Iumenta threat that would someday turn into the War of Generations. When the first council gathered all the leaders of the other houses, they found it fit to name their new country the Pawdin Empire after House Paldin. Sydin told Legon and Sasha that in the early days of the newly formed Pawdin Empire, the members of House Paldin were flattered and a little overwhelmed by the new country’s name being in their honor. They feared that in time the other great houses would see it as Paldin trying to place it above the others. They didn’t want to cause the first ever Elf conflict. Legon found it interesting that over the thousands of years that the Elves were separate countries, there had never been war between them, and like today, people moved from region to region regardless of what house controlled it. This hadn’t been the case for the Iumenta’s Impa Empire. Before they formed into the one cohesive unit, they were separate countries similar to city states and they fought often. The pre-Impa era was one of constant battle for the Iumenta. A time of killing, but conversely a time of hardening, the time that gave them the strength for the War of Generations. Legon shook these thoughts from his mind.
“Is he going to be taking over for Evindass when we leave?” Legon asked.
“Yes, he’s the blue dragon you saw the day you came in,” Sydin said.
Sasha’s face turned bright at the memory. “I remember him, he’s friendly.”
Sydin turned and spoke to her. “Yes, I like Telunone. He’s a respectable man, I’ve known him for the better part of four thousand years.”
Sasha’s head shook. “So Sydin, what was it like when the world was created?”
They loved to pick on Sydin for his age, which was a very human thing to do, as Elves don’t age. To them, being thousands of years old was just another part of life. Sasha picked a bad day to taunt him. Sydin merely smiled at her.
Sasha reminded Sydin of his one and only daughter, of whom he thought the world. Sydin was a father of twelve, eleven of which were boys. When Sasha would give someone—usually Legon or Barnin—a dirty or reproachful look, Sydin said it reminded him of when his daughter was a little girl and she would get mad at him for taking away a toy. He didn’t find her looks menacing or frightening, not that anyone did, but rather cute and funny. So Sydin laughed harder and Sasha’s face softened.
“It’s a good thing I like you,” she said more lightheartedly than before.
“Can we eat please? I’m hungry,” Legon added.
Sasha rolled her eyes. “When aren’t you? Ok, let’s go eat.”
As they made their way to the dining hall, Legon was thinking about breakfast, though there were more pressing matters at hand. He was in this war now and in it for the long haul, in it for the humans and Elves that would not walk the land for centuries to come. So what was he to do now to ensure their future? Ideas had been rolling around in his head since he arrived at the dome, but now Legon was hungry and couldn’t focus. The soft rhythmic sound of shoes and boots hitting the floor as the group walked seemed to help put things in perspective. That was it, wasn’t it? Perspective. All this time the filth had ruled by keeping people relatively happy, keeping them just content enough to not hate their owners, for lack of a better word. If people knew what their lives had become, what they would turn into if they stayed under the Iumenta? Would they be able to fight back? Would they want to? Yes, Legon decided they would fight back if there was a future better than the one they lived in now…but how to do that? War was not a better immediate future for anyone in Airmelia. All sides would suffer. The Elves would fight because those alive today would see that brighter future, but many if not most of humanity would not live see that future.