Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (40 page)

For a moment the beast lay still, but suddenly it released a groan of pain and rolled over. One of the creatures legs didn't want to support its body, and one of his arms hung loose at an odd angle. After only a moments hesitation, and seemingly without thought of the pain it would cause the Magnus Dracani set its leg, and then its arm. The beast stood there defiantly, assured of his own invincibility; unfortunately, the creatures pomposity couldn't have prepare it for the large man that quickly pounced on it from above. The Beasts used its good arm to swipe at the big mans chest as he came crashing down upon the Dracair. The Half-Ogre grabbed the creatures head, seemingly unfazed by the gaping wound, and made a loud grunt of exertion as he twisted the creatures head so that it faced its own tail.

The two colossus's crumpled to the ground. The Half-Ogre was exhausted and gravely wounded, but the Magnus Dracani was down for the count. Za'erath jumped off of the Escarpment and landed softly next to the two figures.

“McDowell, Jameson, Get down here and help me turn him over.” the Grey Elf priest said, post-battle being one of the few times he was allowed to order people around.

Without thought Corporal and Sergeant responded to the order and jumped down with the large human warrior to go to their companion's aid. The two men struggled greatly with the Half-Ogres increased mass, and if the Battlesorcerer hadn't already been on his side Victor doubted that the two men would have been able to get the Half-Ogre onto his back.

“This is bad, Dracair claw wounds don't heal with magic as well as other wounds. It is almost as bad as poison. I can stop the bleeding, but the wound is going to have to heal at a near natural rate.” No one said anything about the fact that they all already knew that information, because a helpful note of caution was always accepted, and expected amongst companions. “I need your help Bredwin.” He said looking up at the blond haired Dwarf on the top of the small cliff.

“Right” The Cleric said as he ran to his packs and grabbed a small satchel. Moments later he leapt down to assist the priest.

Victor, wanting to join them, but not wanting to jump ten feet down decided on a compromise, and landed on the back of the Magnus Dracani. It was harder than it looked, and it had already looked fairly solid. He walked up the creatures back and stared into its lifeless eyes. The creature's head was nearly the size of his entire body.

“Brave lad.” He heard Bredwin mutter as he began picking out herbs for the poultice they would use on the Battlesorcerer's wounds.

Victor saw the Grey Elf look up at him as grabbed the Mortar and Pestle from the satchel the Bredwin had brought down. “He wouldn't be with us if he wasn't.” That was all that the man said before going back to work.

As Victor turned to study the Magnus Dracani an odd thought struck him. Staring into the sightless eye of the large creature, Victor knew that all a Blood Mage would have to do to revive the beast would be to rotate its head back into the right direction before he could kick start the Magnus Dracani's natural regeneration. He wasn't really sure where the thought had come from, or why he was suddenly cutting at the creature's neck with his dagger, but it felt right. It was slow work, but it was work only suitable for a dagger or small knife. The scales had to be cut away from the beasts neck before the head could be removed, and the scales were only small enough to be penetrated by a slim blade. Looking at the creature as he did his work, Victor realized that if someone were skilled enough they could place a blade into the creatures throat under a scale, and restrict some of the creatures air flow and mobility. That line of thinking lead him to wonder if such a cut could be achieved from a throw. Cutting around the large patch of scales at the front of the creature's throat, Victor managed to get a section that he would be able to test his theory on later.

As the head fell to the ground Victor hopped off the beast, scales in hand and walked towards the nearest stream. The stream had steady current, so Victor wasn't too concerned about the blood pooling and poisoning whatever would drink from the water. He cleaned himself thoroughly before rinsing the patch of scales in the water. Walking back towards the squad he found a tree that he was able to place the section of scales upon in order to test his theory. Measuring out out thirty paces he began to practice on the scales. After a few dozen attempts he decided that it would be a difficult throw, but wouldn't be impossible, with the right weapon. He found that the dagger that Shaylyn had given him breached the scales much easier than his other daggers, but he didn't like throwing that one so he only tried that once.

When his arm was starting to get to a point where it was throwing off his aim he heard someone say that Grimbash was stirring. Victor grabbed his daggers, wiped them off, and sheathed them before going to see how his companion was doing.

Chapter 18

Heritage of the Blood

Year 3043 AGD

Month of Ragnós

Second Fourth Day

Continent of Terroval

Southwest of Asylum

When Victor entered the impromptu camp he noticed people staring at him. His first thought was that he had missed some blood while he was cleaning, but after a quick check with the mirror from his pack he decided that wasn't it. Then he thought that maybe they were just looking staring off as they occasionally do, and he was imagining their looking at him. After a few minutes though he abandoned that theory as people kept talking amongst themselves and looking discreetly in his direction. Fiddling with his dagger on a small piece of wood he felt rather uncomfortable.

After a few minutes he walked over to where the Dwarf Cleric and the Grey Elf Priest were treating their Half-Ogre companion. He noticed as he walked down the embankment that someone had taken the time to remove the head from the other Dracair Warrior, and nodded in approval to himself. The big man was still laying near the body of the Dracair Dreadnaught, but his size had returned to normal, which was still large.

“How is he?” Victor asked the Grey Elf.

“He'll be ok. He woke up once, that was when we got him to release the spells so we could manage him more easily. Of course, it was easier treating the wound when he was bigger, but since it is treated it will heal better now that it is smaller.” Victor was looking at his companion in a new light after the battle that had occurred not too long ago. After a few moments of silence Victor looked up from the Half-Ogre. The Za'erath and Bredwin were both looking at him in the same way the rest of the group had been. Fiddling with the handle of his dagger for a moment Victor waved to the two healers and walked back towards the stream.

Leaning over the water Victor looked at his reflection. Not seeing any blood on his face, or clothes he sat on the bank dumbfounded. A short while later Victor sensed the presence of someone a few yards behind him. He didn't feel threatened by it, but he knew it wasn't Nim. He could feel the eyes probing him though, and felt that uncomfortable itch between his shoulder blades. Whoever it was, they were standing upwind from him, so he couldn't catch a scent. The softness of the footfalls told him it wasn't one of the Dwarves, and even though one of the Dwarves was rather good at sneaking around, his foot falls still sounded heavy compared to those he was hearing now.

“I wonder what thoughts plague a mind such as yours Victor.” A soft voice from behind said. He recognized the voice as Elandria, the Half-Elven archer.

With a snicker of cynical amusement Victor replied, “I often wonder what thoughts don't plague my mind. It's those ones that I need to worry about.”

Elandria walked up beside him before sitting down next to him on the bank of the stream. He looked over at her and realized that she wasn't wearing her leather armor, and that she had put on light travel clothes. Her hair, which she usually had back in a pony tail, was down and flowing over her shoulders. She must have noticed his careful consideration of her from his reflection in the water, because a slight grin appeared on her face as she stared down into the gently flowing water.

“I suppose you are right, but most of us don't expect a person your age to consider such things. How old are you anyway?” She looked at him, really looked, as few others had ever done to him, and it made him feel odd.

“Eight and a half.” He said, his voice coming out in a whisper.

She let out a low whistle, and then chuckled softly. It was a soft laugh that made Victor feel comfortable. Shaylyn had often laughed in much the same manner. He wasn't sure if he should be offended that she was laughing, but something told him that she was laughing more at the universe than she was at him.

“You may have noticed people looking at you.” When Victor nodded slightly, she continued. “It isn't meant as a disrespect to you, in fact it is probably quite the opposite. You see, there is something that all of us here have in common. It is why we work so well together, and why we are known as a unit that gets the job done and survives.” She paused briefly as if gathering her thoughts. “We all share the heritage of the blood.”

Victor looked at her carefully, and wondered were this conversation was going. He quickly perused his memories to see if he had ever heard of this before, the only memory he could recall was from several years earlier. He concentrated on the image in his head, and recalled the event. It was one of the outings that Shaylyn had taken him on for his training. They were sitting at a small campfire, and they had just accosted a small band of goblin-kin that had raided a small farm.

“You did well back there Victor.” Shaylyn looked at him carefully.

“That was neat Shaylyn. My heart was beating so fast! I could hear it in my ears. When that goblin had that club raised at me I thought I was gonna die. It was great!” Victor said with the enthusiasm of a five year old boy that didn't quite understand his own mortality.

“Yes, great…” She chuckled softly. “Victor you have to be more cautious. If you get so preoccupied with what is happening in front of you, then you won't notice the blade entering your back until it is too late.” She put her hand on her head and sighed. “I really wish I didn't have to teach you these things yet.”

“I was thinking about that.” Victor said softly. “Why is it that I can't show what I can do to the other kids? You said that they can't do things like me, but why? Why am I different? Why…”

“Ok Victor, that's enough Why's for the moment, let me answer them as they come so I don't lose track.” Shaylyn said seriously. “As to the first. You cannot show other kids, or even adults what you can do because you are not supposed to be able to do it. Most people do not learn most of the things you know before their mid or early teens, if they are gifted. As to why you are different and can do things that people three times your age cannot, it is because your blood heritage is stronger than most before you.” Forestalling the question she saw coming, she held up her hand to silence him before continuing. “The blood heritage is a term the dragons used. It is a gift from the parents and ancestors to their children. The blood heritage is made up of memories and other things that the ones before you knew. When the dragons took human form fully, and mated with the other races, it changed this heritage into something that the non-draconic races had not seen before. In humans, and half-elves it means that at a certain point in a persons life they may develop dreams, or feel a guiding force from inside that they don't know what it is. For others, the bond develops much stronger. When the Heritage of the blood manifests itself fully in some, they receive the full memories and in some cases some of the skills that their parents, and grand parents had. These tend to manifest themselves slowly over time. Most of those that receive these gifts do so at an age after their teen years, or in a time of great distress.”

Victor hadn't understood what she had meant then, but he realized now that she hadn't meant for him to understand it then. She had known that a point in his future he would need to know this information, and so she was giving it to him. Their conversation had gone on from their, but he knew that was the information he needed. Bringing his thoughts back into the present he looked up at the half-elf in front of him and saw Shaylyn for a moment before blinking.

Victor grinned. “You know, you're a very pretty woman.”

She laughed with what Victor might have described as a giggle if she wasn't a very capable warrior. “If you were eight or ten years old, I'd either punch you or kiss you for that comment. Depending on my mood. I'm going to take it from that look you had just a few moments ago, and the fact that you didn't ask me what it was that you have at least a basic knowledge of what the blood heritage is. A fact which is surprising to me because not many like to talk about it. Essentially though, it's a very strong bond by our blood that allows us to remember, and even experience in our dreams things that those who came before us did. I myself, trained with the knights as a dirge, and if you don't know what that is, you'll have to find someone else other than myself to explain it to you.”

“Three years ago I started having dreams about a silver dragon. Sometime later it was dreams of a copper one. Then, the dreams turned to people. After awhile I would hear suggestions like those that an instructor would give. About two years ago I got the urge to pick up a bow after one of those dreams. I found that I had become more skilled in its use than I had been previously. From there the memories and dreams increased in frequency and scope. One life after another. I found that most had taken up archery because of the blood heritage, and over time the skill had developed beyond that of many others. Thousands of years had given my family, on my Elven mothers side, dozens of lifetimes of experience. My father's side was not as strong in the memories as my mothers, and they were mostly farmers and soldiers from the memories I can dredge up. Out of the armies there is a small percentage of those of us who are so strong in the heritage. This squad, and some if not most of the higher ranked members of the armies are stronger in the blood heritage.”