Bacorium Legacy (3 page)

He read of Ekkei, the god-emperor of mankind. He read of the Eldritch, the fell beasts Ekkei commanded, that enforced the demon’s will. And he read of Uro, the liberator, who had appeared with Rixeor the magick sword, and had slain both the demon and the beasts that followed it.

Familiar stories. He’d read them many times before. It was not so much the legend of Uro that interested him so much as the writings of Uro himself that he had left behind after his conquest - the Way.

Some time passed, but it passed by slow.

From the single window of his home, sunlight peaked in where it could through the shoddy curtain. And yet the shadows were long, betraying the day’s infancy. The sky of Arimos was an often troubled one, the thick clouds so perfectly blocking the sun so as to drag on night and throttle the light of day. In the frozen north, light was precious. He idly wondered if noon drew near.

His thoughts were interrupted as the song-like voice of a young woman called his name from the other side of his door.

“Luca, are you home? It's noon, and I wondered if you might be interested in sharing a meal with me?”

He cursed his luck. He had hoped his father would appear and take him away before Arlea got the same idea. Still, he couldn’t turn aside the company.

“Come in.”

Luca rose and dusted himself off as the girl stepped inside. Her garb was similar to his own - several layers of insulating monster skins to shield the wearer from the biting cold - the same cold he felt as she opened the door. Her yellow hair was longer than his, reaching just past her shoulders, and her eyes were wide and blue.

She was pretty, he figured… but he just had no interest in her in the way she seemed to be interested in him. Or rather, he would not allow himself to - again, he had his code...

Arlea smiled and showed him a small bowl.

“I brought soup,” she said, holding up the bowl in her hands. “Are you cold? There is a chill in this tent. Perhaps there is a hole somewhere that the wind is coming through.”

Without answering her, Luca moved from his bedroll to beside the small fire surrounded by rocks in the centre of the room. Arlea sat on the opposite side of the fire, and handed him a warm bowl of soup. It was still warm in spite of the deathly cold outside.

Arlea looked around the hut.

“Your father is absent,” she observed. “Is he gone often?”

“Fairly,” Luca muttered. Inwardly, he scoffed at the thought of the girl being surprised at his father being away. She had probably been counting on it. “He keeps himself busy with hunts. But right now he is speaking with the elder.”

“So I have noticed,” Arlea said. “As have we all. Indeed, a greater hunter has never shown his face among these parts.”

“You take my father for the greatest hunter your village has even seen?” Luca said, raising an eyebrow. “If a man like him is such a blessing to you, how have you all survived so long?” There was a hint of venom in his words he hadn't meant to show.

Arlea tilted her head, possibly confused by his anger. “Do you not like your father, Luca?”

His eyes found the fire. “He is my father,” he responded cryptically. “He is the only family I have.”

Perhaps realising that he did not wish to continue this discussion, Arlea grew quiet. She remained so for a while, and the only sound in the small hut was the crackling of the flames and the faint howl of the wind outside. Luca glanced at the window, considering the growing snowfall visible on the fringe of the curtain.

Arlea slowly met his gaze, more hesitation in her eyes.

“The other villagers speak of you and Master Lodin,” she said. “They wonder why such a skilled hunter would come to such a remote place as this.”

“I often wonder the same thing.”

“Have you been to many places?”

“More than I can count,” he said “Many as remote and desolate as this. My father says that we lived first in Saeticia, but I have no memories of that land.”

“I have never left Arimos,” Arlea sighed. “I can see you hate this land, and I feel the same. I have wanted to leave and see places like Sono and Saeticia.”

“Then why stay here?” he asked.

A sad smile graced her pink lips.

“I am no hunter, Luca,” she said. “I have no knowledge of the beasts or the elements. The extent of my talent with magick is keeping soup warm. I would never survive a journey to the southern port, let alone through the rest of Bacoria.”

Luca stole a glance at the girl, whose eyes were on the small fire before her, her mind deep in thought.

“I have been thinking about this for quite some time now, in fact,” she continued without looking up. “You caught my interest the moment you arrived, all those months ago. You are no stranger to travel, and you are a skilled hunter. You do not wish to remain here…”

“You want to leave with me,” he finished for her.

Her eyes lit up. There was eagerness in those eyes, a kind of hope and anticipation he had not seen in a long time. His own eyes, and more so those of his father, were so often filled with weariness, having been worn down by so many long years of travel. There was something quite refreshing about the way Arlea looked at him, something he had not been expecting when he had invited her in mere minutes before.

“Your father… would he be angry?” she asked. She could not mask the eagerness in her voice.

“Perhaps. I have never attempted to leave him before.”

“Does this mean…?”

“I will consider it,” he said. “Something like this… It is not the kind of decision you make without a day or so of consideration. But - I would be lying if I said you haven't intrigued me.”

Arlea smiled. “A day to think about it… I should have come sooner, then. I was thinking - if you do wish to leave with me, mind you - that the annual festival tonight would be the perfect time to do so. The adults will be occupied with their celebration and their drinking. It will take them a while to miss us. If you do wish to leave, of course. Please, take your time to think about it.”

Of course, the festival - it had entirely slipped his mind.

“I will think on it,” he concluded.

She gave him a smile, and in spite of himself, he could not help but return it.

Arlea rose to leave, and Luca leaned forward to return the now-empty bowl. As their hands met briefly, he could feel her trembling.

“Well, then… I‘d best leave you now. Uh… well, whichever way your mind goes, I suppose I will see you tonight. Until then…”

She hurried herself out.

Luca didn’t even notice the cold breeze as she stepped outside.

<> <> <>

Nearly an hour later, Luca marched through knee-deep snow with his father, leaving the village and headed towards the pass up into the mountains. A thick net, dragged over Lodin's shoulder, left a trail in the snow behind them. Once they had slain a beast, they would bring it out and wrap it in the net, and use that to drag it back to the town.

“How goes your training?”

Luca glanced up at his father as they walked. Lodin stood a head above him, with the same white hair and blue eyes he had. His face had firm lines around his mouth and under his eyes, and a grey stubble around his lips and chin. His eyes were tired and weary, with many untold stories from his five decades of life.

“In what regard?”

“In the magick circle I gave you,” Lodin said.

“Ah, that,” Luca muttered, feeling irritated at the thought. “It might be easier to focus mana through the circle if I knew exactly what it was supposed to do. It is infuriating, like trying to write with no knowledge of the topic.”

Lodin, in turn, then glanced at his son.

“You feel I should give you more guidance?” the older man asked. “You have little difficulty creating new spells for your mana without my advice at other times.”

“This is different,” he replied. “In those cases, I was simply discovering things on my own. Here, you expect a specific result by giving me only the base materials, and yet telling me nothing else of what it is you expect.”

Lodin stroked his chin. “Perhaps the technique is just too advanced for you. But giving you more guidance? I cannot do this. This spell is different from most others. It is hard to explain, but if I tell you any more about the weave before you actually perform it, mental blocks could rise up and prevent you from ever mastering it at all. It is like swimming… the only way to figure it out is to just jump in. Dwelling on it only makes the task difficult.”

Luca thought about that, but his father's words only made him more confused.

“Then perhaps your first guess was right. Perhaps it simply is too advanced for me.”

“I would not hold it against you if it were,” Lodin reassured him. “I myself could never master that spell, to tell the truth. And I had many years more than you to practise, as well. So it is no fault of yours if you are not skilled enough.”

Lodin smiled.

“But I don't think that's it.”

<> <> <>

After a few more minutes of travel they reached the peak of the large hill, the view of which would have been quite majestic, were it not for the heavy snowfall blinding their view. In the two months they had spent in the unnamed village, Luca had ascended the small mountain several times, and he knew that from where they were, one could see the entire village a kilometre or so away in better conditions.

“You have something in particular in mind?” He turned to his father as he asked the question.

“I just may,” Lodin replied, a confident smile on his bearded face. He pointed to somewhere on the other side of the pass. “There is a cave in that valley there we have not yet explored. It's quite large, so it may hold something big enough for the feast.”

With that note, Lodin began his descent into the valley below, and Luca silently followed him.  As they walked, Luca thought of his conversation with Arlea, and weighed the options regarding whether he should leave with her. He would have to think hard on it, as leaving could be a fatal mistake.

He had never left his father's side before, but perhaps that was a mistake of its own. In the past he had depended on his father's protection against monsters during their travels. But he had now grown into a skilled enough hunter that taking care of common beasts was not a worrisome matter.

What worried him more was that Arlea was no more trained in fighting monsters than he was at playing the lute. And the necessity of travelling at night, when monsters were active, would put them both in danger, as he would have to watch out for her as well as himself. He was used to travelling with his father, whom he did not need to concern himself with during battles. It would be all too easy for him to slip up and for Arlea to be hurt while his attention was occupied.

Extra care would have to be taken to avoid wild areas at first, at least until he taught her the basics of self-protection. Avoiding travel at the deepest hours of the night and finding secure areas to rest would also help. It would be easy enough in the south to do this, but in the Arimos...

More troubling was the matter of getting off the Arimos island. The only ships to dock were those that came to Frostbite, the small port on the southwestern side, and their appearances were infrequent at that.

Perhaps he could converse with the village elder on the matter. If anyone in the unnamed village were to know when the next ship was to arrive, he would.

It wasn't the best of plans, but if the conditions were right, it wouldn't be impossible. Satisfied for the moment, Luca returned his thoughts to the present.

At last they had reached the mouth of the cave, which led into an icy tunnel that burrowed deep into the mountainside. Visibility was quickly obscured by the suffocating darkness.

Lodin dropped the ropes of the large net he had been dragging. He went over and looked into the cavern.

“As you can see, it is quite dark in there,” Lodin pointed out.

Luca resisted the urge to retort. Of course he could see that. It was just his father's way of prompting him.

“Give me a minute,” he muttered.

Luca gathered his mana, feeling the rush of energy one always felt when using magick. He then used this energy to weave within his hands an orb of glowing energy, which he released upon an invisible string to hover behind him at a distance, much like a balloon. The orb of light cast a bright glow around Luca and his father.

Lodin nodded in approval. He then entered the small cave, and Luca silently followed behind him. Tethered to him, the magick orb followed as well.

Idly, Luca wondered what would happen if he severed the connection with the magick orb. Would the orb linger, continuing to provide light until the mana faded? Normally, he dispelled the magick on his own - he had never just cut it off from himself. Could it survive on its own? Or was it truly dependent on his mana to exist at all?

As they walked, Lodin stopped to examine a spot on the wall. Luca realised he had noticed something. With his fingers, Lodin traced a cross carved into the ice, and bent down to examine the floor. Kicking aside the snow, Lodin uncovered the blackened remains of a campfire.

“Someone has been here,” Lodin muttered, his expression darkening.

“One of ours?”

“Perhaps,” Lodin said, but he did not seem to think so. “Either way, discretion is the better part of valour. Proceed with caution. We still have no knowledge of the monsters that may be here.”

Luca knew there would be no problem. His father had been cataloguing the beasts of Bacoria his entire life. If he was insisting caution, there was a different reason for it. Could there be bandits? Not likely, Luca decided. The campfire had been buried under snow, so it was probably old.

They proceeded deeper into the cave. The farther they went, the darker and narrower the cave became, and they began to see bones in the corners of the passages. Most were the bones of the same beasts they had hunted themselves since arriving. Once or twice, they were the bones of humans, coming from arms and legs torn off before death.

They reached the heart of the cave, where a sickening sound reached their ears. As they rounded the final corner, a large humanoid beast came into view.  It stood a good two metres taller than Lodin, and nearly twice as wide. Large arms could be traced beneath its thick white fur, ending in long claws specked with red blood.