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Toroc: The Hero of Icandria (Legends of Icandria Part 1)

For those of you who actually read this journal...here is a special treat.  The first 12-13 pages of the first book in the Icandria series.

Prologue

 

30^th year After Forging:  23^rd day of Skilon

 

            Late in the evening on a warm summer’s evening, the torches surrounding the village of Good’s Fair burned brightly past the time normally reserved for special occasions and holidays.  The longest that the torches had ever burned before in the village’s short history was the birth of the first Halfling child, Domeenick.  Since that day, sixteen years ago, there had been many more births and celebrations with dancing and merriment amongst the villagers.  Tonight, however, the torches had a different, more ominous meaning.

            The Council of Purebloods was in full session at the town’s main square.  The Purebloods were the last of the old Gods left living from the War of the Sword.  After the war, the remaining Purebloods descended to their world of Icandria into the area now known as Good’s Fair where they made their homes and waited.  All the Gods waited for the time when their body disappears and their spirit is released to take residence inside a new body and be reborn as a half God, half human being known as a Halfling.  At the time of the Council, only ten chairs remained occupied with one empty chair that received many saddened and respectful glances during the Council.

            The members of the Council were involved in a very heated debate on the topic of when the Demons would return to Icandria.  Since the death of Eroto, the God of Time, who kept the seal on the Demon race, further antagonism was expected from the vicious monsters.  The exact subject of the debate was how soon the Demons would return to wreak havoc on everything.  Yxlanth, God of Fortune, was arguing plenty of time to prepare.  Prolethius, God of Wisdom, was claiming that Demons were already coming through and within ten years, Demon sightings would double if not triple.  He claimed that without action now there was little promise of a bright and happy future for Gods, mortals, and Halflings alike.

            Prolethius was currently pointing out the cattle mutilations of Trylinda as one of his case points.  Prolethius stood tall at six feet with a proud face normally set in stubborn determination.  His stern green-gold eyes were full of youth and spirit and contrasted with his silver gray hair and rough dim skin.  Prolethius looked like the strong father figure that all parents strived to be in their lives.  He had long ago seen the return of the Demons and had done everything in his power to try and prevent that from happening on this planet.  He had failed to protect everyone thirty years ago during the War of the Sword, but he had made a promise that he would make a difference this time no matter what the cost.  Even though that cost was high indeed.

            Prolethius pointed to a giant map of Icandria.  “Furthermore, I have detected traces of Demon magic along the Peninsula of Plektu which hints at a small group of Demons who must have an inter-dimensional portal magic.  We must not idly stand by and let the Demons roam free.  That would only bring more disaster.”

            Yxlanth, the rotund God of Fortune, harrumphed for an interruption.  “You cannot prove that incident was recent, Prolethius, as we all know well that many patches of the land are still poisoned by the Demon’s evil power.”  Yxlanth stared at the spot on the map that was labeled Desert of Sun Stream remembering the time when it was not a barren desert.  “So, how exactly did you come to this conclusion?”  Yxlanth puffed himself up importantly with his words.

            Prolethius, angry at being interrupted so rudely, raised his left eyebrow in a rather unfriendly stare, even for the usually stoic God of Wisdom.  The God of Fortune visibly shrank back to his normal size as he realized his mistake.  Zenklova, the Goddess of Fertility, snickered loudly until Colanthia, the Goddess of Love, hushed her.

            After a brief glance around the room for further interruptions, Prolethius continued.  “After the War of the Sword, I catalogued all pockets of leftover magic and destruction as well as the new anomalies and creatures created by the conflict of our magic and the Sword’s aura.  All of my findings have been brought to this Council for examination by any interested.”  The God of Wisdom was mostly met by blank stares and even a few yawns to his proclamation.  Prolethius coughed and added quickly, “Yes, well, the point is that this anomaly at Plektu is very recent, and every Demon that did not perish arrived at their prison.”  Prolethius directed a withering glance at Yxlanth that caused the God of Fortune to jump in his chair.  “I made a record of that as well.”

            Eplothius, the God of Strength, rose to his feet.  “Brother, I believe I understand where you are going with this Council.  My question is what can we do to prevent the Demons from winning this time?  Our powers and numbers are greatly diminished, and those foul creatures just multiply threefold for every one that we strike down.  If it was not for the mortals, we would have been very badly beaten.”  Eplothius absently rubbed the claw scar on his massive chest that very nearly pierced his heart on Omegus Island.  He tugged on his shaggy blonde beard and his green-gold eyes reflected the deep torment that he had suffered to go along with the scar.

            Prolethius nodded as he had anticipated this question, if not necessarily from his younger brother.  “We have one task to perform.  There is another that has already been completed.  Magik lies upon the summit of Wuroo’s Domain for the one who shall take it up in the hour of need.”

            Treeshon, the Goddess of Loyalty and Honor, shook her head.  “I’m not usually the one that argues with you, Prolethius, but is that not just a little dangerous?  If the cursed Sword is allowed to roam free, will the Demons not have a chance to recover it for ill purposes?  I’m afraid that would do much to doom Icandria.”

            Alythea raised her pale hand in protest and gazed around the square from her usual seat in the corner.  Her left eye was bright red and blazed with an energy that reminded all that she held the position of Goddess of Life.  “That is of no consequence, dear Treeshon.  With my help and the blood of Tristam Smith, Magik is bound to the Smith’s children of direct descent for all eternity.”  Alythea turned her face slightly and brushed her long black hair back from her black right eye and gazed at each God and Goddess with the eye that saw only their dying and decaying bodies; the same eye that proved her power as the Goddess of Death.  “Anyone else who would wield the Sword without having it willingly given to them will suffer greatly before their soul is destroyed . . . be it God, Demon, or mortal.”  A chilly silence settled over the Council as they recovered from Alythea’s unsettling right eye.

            Proctule, the God of Healing and Medicines, spoke up next in protest.  “I believe that to be a very powerful spell indeed, Prolethius, but there is a flaw in your plan.  The Demons are masters of deception, possession, and trickery!  How are we to prevent the wielder of the Sword to give it up willingly?”  Proctule smoothed his white robes and played nervously with his black beard.

            Prolethius raised his hand to silence any further comments or protests.  “That is the task that requires all of your participation.  We must ensure that the one who wields Magik is wisely guided and protected by someone of our choosing.  It must be someone who still respects and looks to us for guidance.”  Prolethius glanced at each Pureblood in turn before saying, “what we need is an Avatar.”

            Dilathius, the God of Courage and Prolethius’ youngest brother, smiled warmly at his eldest sibling.  “You truly do think of everything, brother.  I assume you have already chosen if not found this Avatar?”  Dilathius placed his hand on his brother Eplothius’ forearm when he noticed Eplothius’ slightly lost look.

            Prolethius smiled warmly at Dilathius.  The God of Courage had proven many times that although he was the youngest of the Gods and Goddesses, he still had more courage, strength, compassion and wisdom than many of the others combined.  Dilathius would have made a good leader if things had been different thirty years ago.  Prolethius sighed sadly and once again addressed the Council.  “As my brother has surmised, I have sought our Avatar and found him.  I have measured his ability and potential, and I believe that he is worthy.  All that remains is for us to grant him our power, our blessings, and some instructions.

            Colanthia or Miklovan, no one could really tell which one of them spoke as they did everything in unison, said “This Avatar . . . what is his name, wise Prolethius?”  The fiery Goddess of Love raised a single cream colored hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her green eyes. The God of Love did the same at exactly the same time.  The trusting look in their eyes proved that his words had been heeded.

            Prolethius picked up his staff and leaned heavily upon it.  They were all committed now.  The Demons had to be stopped before they grew too strong.  This was the only option left for them.  None of them had any time left.  “He is a wandering Mage of Colatto.  His name is Kruune Tallus.”

Chapter 1

 

30^th After Forging:  12^th day of Dendrith

 

            Two days into the four-day journey from the village of Crenshill to the town of Ryfael, Kruune Tallus realized that a very good tracker had been shadowing him for the past couple of days.  Little things like the feeling of a presence to the south, a quick glimpse of moving foliage behind him, and a sense of being watched all lead to his deduction.  Although Kruune spent the first fifteen years of his life as a Mage studying magic and the gods, he had also devoted some time each day to outdoors and survival skills.  Although Kruune was not as magically capable as some of his colleagues, he was more robust in body and stronger in spirit than all others.

            Kruune wondered if he could somehow sneak up on his pursuer, but quickly decided against that plan.  Whoever was following him had stayed hidden for two full days, perhaps even longer, and was probably skilled with a bow as well.  Kruune realized that he was at a distinct disadvantage because he could not see his pursuer, but he was sure that his every move was being watched.  Kruune chewed on his lip in thought.  Perhaps at the next town he could retake the advantage.

            Kruune did his best to make sure that he kept up his usual routine when he stopped for the night.  He took his time to prepare a fire and his supper of oatmeal.  While eating, Kruune began to weave a passive warding spell that would warn him of any impending danger.  After completing the spell, Kruune settled into his blanket for the night and began to plan for Ryfael.

            Two hours later, a magical warning was buzzing in Kruune’s mind.  Someone had penetrated his magical web and was approaching him very quietly.  Kruune fought his initial urge to look around his campsite and instead reached out with his mind.  At the same time, he began to weave a spell for his defense.  Instantly, the approaching figure froze.  Kruune’s weaving came to an instant halt.  His pursuer had sensed his magical aura!  Kruune cursed and quickly rolled away from the fire into the dark.  A voice drifted toward Kruune from the dark behind him.  “Relax, Kruune Tallus, we mean you no harm.”

            Kruune turned towards the sound of the voice and gasped.  The man he was looking at was an almost exact duplicate of himself but much older.  Their hair was the same silvery gray color, but the older man’s hair was a duller gray than Kruune’s.  Their eyes matched perfectly in hue, but the other man’s green-gold eyes were much wiser in their years.  Kruune stood up slowly and was pleased to find that they matched each other perfectly in height at six feet.  They stood staring silently at each other for a few minutes:  Kruune with amazement and the stranger with a deep pride.  Kruune suddenly realized what the stranger had said.  “What do you mean ‘we?’?”

            The old stranger nodded sagely as if expecting the question and held his arms out to his sides.  Nine more people were revealed by a strange ethereal glow, and a beautiful girl of only about sixteen years old seemed to appear beside Kruune.  The little girl smiled softly and slipped her hand into Kruune’s.  “He’s very good, Prolethius, he saw my shadowing after two weeks.  After your task is finished, I would very much like to spend time with him.  Kruune gawked at the girl.  Somewhere deep inside his mind a voice said, I’ve been followed for two weeks!

            Prolethius gave a fatherly smile to the girl and called her to him.  Obediently, the dark haired girl let go of Kruune’s hand and dashed over to the God of Wisdom’s arms where he gave her a warm hug.  Prolethius directed his gaze back to Kruune and that pride shone in his eyes again.  The voice in the back of Kruune’s mind that had accompanied him for thirty years spoke again and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Father!?”

            Prolethius looked shocked for a second before regaining his composure.  Kruune’s revelation did not fall upon deaf ears as many of the other Gods and Goddesses began to re-appraise Kruune and Prolethius in a new light.  The look in the eyes of Dilathius and Alythea revealed that they already knew the truth.

            Prolethius gave the girl that he hugged a pat on the head and said softly to her, “Thank you for your help, Lentil.”  Lentil bowed deeply to Prolethius and struck a quick glance at Kruune, which spoke volumes for Lentil’s future plans for Prolethius’ newly found son.  Kruune shifted uncomfortably as he realized suddenly that his pursuer would not be shaken any time soon.

            Prolethius nodded his head to Kruune as if they were passing neighbors in the market.  “Yes, it is true that I am your father.  I should also add that you have become a fine gentleman.  You are also a fairly competent mage.”

Kruune began to swell up with pride, but he quickly managed to keep those feelings under control while he concentrated on what he had always wanted to say to his father.  “So, my father is the God of Wisdom.  Why do you come to me now?”  Kruune’s temper flared as he vented his ire on his newly discovered family.  “For thirty years, I’ve been living the life of an orphan, and now I find out that instead of a bastard, I’m a demi-god!”  Kruune growled.  “Why now father?  Why not when I was born?  Why did you let my mother die?”  Kruune’s nostrils flared as he let his entire anger surface.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Prolethius looked slightly hurt.  The decision that he had made years ago had not been an easy one, but the God of Wisdom knew that when Kruune was born there was no place for Halflings.  Suddenly, the family pride and stubbornness came back and Prolethius’ eyes were once again stoic and wise.  “For your last question asked, let me ask you something in return.  Had you known your parentage, would that have made your life easier or less lonely?”

Kruune opened his mouth to answer but stopped. Thinking on his father’s question, Kruune had to grudgingly admit to his being right.  Life would have been much harder on him as a child if he had to deal with being a Halfling as well as an orphan.  Playtime, puberty, and school was enough of a growing up experience without the complication of knowing that you were probably going to live longer than everyone else around you.

Prolethius was smiling faintly as if he could hear what Kruune was thinking.  Not wanting to give his errant father the satisfaction of being right, Kruune crossed his arms and asked, “What about my other question?  Why now?  Why are you here?  What do you want from me?”  Kruune’s face melted into the same stubborn look that Prolethius would display at these times.

The God of Wisdom sighed softly and nodded to Kruune.  “Yes, you shall receive your answers today.  But, I am afraid that you may not like them.  I could not ask you before, because you were not old enough to understand.  I believe you to be old enough now.”  Prolethius leaned heavily upon his staff.  “Kruune, do you remember anything at all about the demons?”

A knot of fear twisted Kruune’s stomach.  He remembered lots of the grisly details of the War of the Sword.  The war had been waged worldwide for the first ten years of his life.  The past eighteen years had been peaceful at best, with the occasional dispute between kingdoms, but most everyone had chosen to forget the war that had changed the face of Icandria.  Kruune was not one of those people.  He chose to remember all and wanted to make sure that nothing like that ever happened to another child ever again.

Kruune raised his eyes to look Prolethius in the face.  “I remember too much of the War.  I wish that I could forget many things, but I remember because I do not want any more children to suffer like my generation did.”  Kruune banished the unease and fear that thinking of the Demons brought upon him.  “I do know that they were banished from this plane.  I also realize that they are going to come back.  I do not know how I know this, but I know it to be true.”

Prolethius remained silent for a time as he measured Kruune’s abilities.  Although Kruune had not Awakened yet, he was still far wiser than any other man.  His magic was not powerful, but his spiritual energy and his body were strong.  The choice was an easy one.  “Kruune, what you say is completely correct.  The Demons will return.  I am afraid that we Gods will not be present for their second coming.”  Prolethius swept his hand towards the Purebloods who had remained in the background.  “We are a dying breed, and we need your help.

“What we need from you is no simple task.  It will be difficult for many reasons.  You will not be powerless though.  We all shall give you the last vestiges of our power so that you will be protector and protected yourself.  We shall give you abilities that no mere mortal or any other Halfling possesses.”  Prolethius clenched his fist.  “You shall be the one to begin the fight against the Demons for all who remain on this planet.  You shall become our Avatar.  Do you accept this task?”

An unnatural silence hung around the campfire.  Not even the animals or insects of the night made any calls.  It seemed that all creatures were listening to the God of Wisdom’s plea.  Now, all waited for the God of Wisdom’s son to reply.  Kruune stood with his eyes closed weighing each and every word that his father had said.  Kruune had the feeling that if he said yes to this, he was already making other decisions many years later.  Something this important could not be taken very lightly at all.

Finally, Kruune had made his decision.  His eyes opened and his green-gold eyes shone with determination.  “I accept your task, father.  I shall become your champion.”  As Kruune spoke the words, he felt a weight attach itself to him, and he could almost see the stars in the sky shine brighter.  An explosion of animal cries and insects chirping made an inhuman chorus of praise to Kruune Tallus.

Prolethius smiled brilliantly and placed his hand on Kruune’s shoulder.  “It is done.  Your first task is to find the descendent of Talton Smithson.  You shall find him and protect him from the Demons to ensure that he grows up to a time when he will be mature enough to take up Magik and lead the battle.  After he has the Sword, you must ensure that he does not give it up willingly to anyone.  The Sword must never again fall into evil hands, or this world is doomed.  Do you understand these tasks?”

Kruune nodded his head.  “I understand all of it.”

Prolethius offered his staff to Kruune who accepted it readily.  “If you ever need my help again, just ask me and I shall help you.  Any time you need it or if you just want to talk to me, I will be there for you.”  Prolethius placed his hand on Kruune’s shoulder and lightly squeezed.  “Now rest.”

A deep slumber took over Kruune’s body and mind.  His dreams were extremely vivid and filled with characters out of the books he read.  He saw the three brother Gods, Prolethius, Eplothius, and Dilathius.  Each looked different from the other except for their eyes.  Their eyes all shone a bright green-gold that looked upon Kruune with familial pride. 

First, Prolethius stepped forward and touched Kruune’s forehead.  With a couple of words, Kruune felt his father’s blessing open his mind.

Eplothius, the God of Strength, was next.  Eplothius, scarred by battle, was a massive man with a shaggy blonde beard and no hair.  He placed each of his large hands upon Kruune’s arms and whispered his blessing.  Kruune’s entire body flooded with warmth and strength.

Dilathius, the God of Courage, came after.  He was a tall man, taller than any of the others.  His black hair flowed over his shoulders and framed his lightly colored face.  He placed his hand on Kruune’s heart and whispered his blessing.  Kruune’s fears and confusion melted away into nothing.

Behind them danced the naked Colanthia, the Goddess of Love and the Mistress of Desire together with her twin lover Miklovan, the God of Love and the Master of Lust.  Their creamy skin flowed and their ample bodies bounced and gyrated as they danced for Kruune letting their long red hair cover their deep green eyes coyly.  As their dance ended, each placed a hand on his heart and whispered a blessing.  Then they departed, just as quickly as they had danced to him.

Yxlanth, the God of Fortune, waddled his way over to Kruune and stared at him for some time with his beady blue eyes.  Without any words, the fat man ran a thick hand through his mane of blonde hair and pulled a long blonde hair from his hand.  Placing the hair upon Kruune’s hand, Yxlanth left his blessing and good luck with the Halfling.

The prim Proctule, the God of Medicine and Healing, dressed in his clean and pressed white robes reached into a pouch at his side and produced a pink flower petal.  Without so much as a word, Proctule opened Kruune’s mouth and placed the flower petal under Kruune’s tongue.  Absently wiping his white hand on his robes, Proctule whispered his blessing and the petal melted underneath Kruune’s tongue.

Zenklova, the Goddess of Fertility, touched Kruune on the forehead.  Her deep brown skin was cool to the touch and her long brown hair flowed around framing her beautiful face and rich brown eyes.  With a whispered blessing, Zenklova leaned over and kissed Kruune on the cheek.

Treeshon, the Goddess of Loyalty and Honor, touched Kruune’s heart and whispered her blessing.  Standing, Treeshon regarded Kruune with her purple irises and flowing white robes.  Smiling at what she saw, Treeshon turned away from Kruune and rejoined her friends.

Alythea sat next to Kruune and gazed at him with her red and black eyes.  Her pale skin and deep black hair were enthralling, but her gaze completely disturbed him.  Without a word, Alythea leaned over and placed her face against Kruune’s.  For an instant, Kruune understood everything about Alythea and the knowledge both elated and terrified him.  Alythea smiled sweetly and kissed Kruune letting her power flow into his breath.  Then, she pulled away and rejoined the others.  Without another word, they disappeared.

Beautiful Lentil was left to watch over Kruune.  Feeling her gaze upon him, he turned his head and his green-gold eyes locked with her silver eyes.  They watched each other for many minutes before Lentil stood up and strode over to where Kruune lay upon the ground.  She kneeled down and placed her head upon his chest feeling his heartbeat quicken as her suntanned skin touched the white skin of his chest.  Kruune wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or not.

“You know that there is no one else for me.”  Kruune was surprised at the words that came from his mouth.  Was he still sleeping?  “We will not always be together in body, but my heart has belonged with you ever since we were born into this world.”

Lentil closed her eyes and sighed softly.  “I’ve seen you in my dreams ever since I was a little girl.  You have had my heart for a very long time without me realizing it, my love.”

Kruune pulled Lentil to him and wrapped his arms around her body.  Without a second thought, the two of them began to kiss with wild passion that burned Kruune’s senses and quickened his heart’s beat to match hers.  Kruune and Lentil lost themselves in the moment.

 

Kruune’s eyes flew open and he looked around wildly.  He was by himself at his campsite and the fire had long since burned out.  He shivered and realized that he was naked except for a small piece of cloth that had been tied around his right wrist.  Kruune stared at the cloth and then remembered where he had seen where that cloth had come from.  It was the same dark green cloth that Lentil’s clothing was fashioned from.

Kruune shook his head softly.  “Was it really a dream?”

Kruune’s hand was wrapped around the long wooden shaft of a staff.  Kruune recognized it as the staff that Prolethius had given to him.  It was five feet tall and had some words carved into the side.  Reading the words, Kruune realized that last night was not a dream at all.  Carved into the wood were the words, The Sage who walks with this staff carries upon his shoulders the hopes of the world.

 

33^rd day After Forging:  22^nd day of Sola

 

            Almost three years after becoming a Sage, Kruune had finally tracked down Smith’s descendants to the moderately sized town of Tasir Kol on the border of the Dentryst Kingdom and the Ro-shon Empire.  Tasir Kol was well known as being the center of the Dentryst Kingdom’s coal trade, and a very important part of the craft of blacksmithing.  Kruune was not surprised that Talton Smithson had decided to make this town his home.  Metal crafting was in the blood of the Smith’s sons as much as magic was in the blood of the Sage.

            A chill wind caused Kruune to shiver and pull his woolen robes closer to his body as he walked towards the Smithson’s shop.  Now was one of the times that Kruune wished he had invested in a hooded cloak to keep the wind out of his face.  The silvery beard that had been growing for the past three years prevented him from catching a cold, but it was not nearly enough to keep his face warm.  Kruune sighed heavily as he realized not for the first time that his profession as Avatar of the Gods was not a well paying one.

            After another ten minutes of walking in the bitter wind, Kruune finally found the house that he was seeking.  It was squat and red, built completely out of bricks and mortar with a great chimney that rose two feet higher than the sloping roof.  Attached to the house’s sunward side was a very large forge, complete with an anvil, hammer, and all the other implements found within the workspace of a blacksmith.  Kruune looked longingly at the great forge before making his way to the front door of the home.  It was made from a solid piece of oak and heavily decorated with heavy black metal supports shaped into wonderfully stylistic dragons.  Glancing to the sides of the door, Kruune noticed that the windows of the house were also heavily decorated with other creatures like unicorns, griffins, whales, tigers, and even a mermaid.  Looking even closer at the window, Kruune noticed that the glass was very nearly perfect.  It was of a very good quality and not owned by those without money.

            Kruune knocked on the door of the house and was answered soon after by a girl no older than eleven years.  Her dark brown hair was brushed straight and her dark brown eyes looked up to Kruune curiously.  “Hello, Mister,” she said politely.  “Are you here to see my new baby brother?”  Her smile was extremely friendly and Kruune could not help but smile himself when he saw it.

            With a nod of his head, Kruune kneeled down to eye level with the little girl and held out his hand.  Suddenly, in his hand, appeared a small white bird that jumped around on his palm before looking at the girl with a curious glance.  Laughing with glee, the little girl ran inside the house, and Kruune heard her talking excitedly about a magic user with whom he assumed was her father when he heard a low baritone voice answer to her excited jabbering.  After taking a deep breath, Kruune sighed with relief at finally reaching his destination and possibly get some warm food as well.

            A large muscular man stepped into the door in front of Kruune blocking almost all of the light.  From the light that filtered out, Kruune could make out the distinct features of the Smith’s son.  His face was smooth with almost no wrinkles or crevices except around the eyes.  Talton’s eyes were a deep brown color, darker than the earth upon which they stood, and betrayed the age that the rest of his body hid so well.  Kruune could not be sure if Talton’s raven colored hair was beginning to thin around the forehead area, but manners and decency prevented Kruune from scrutinizing.  The smith reached out a massive hand towards Kruune and said, “Welcome to my home, mage.  I am Talton Smithson.”

            Kruune placed his hand into Talton’s and tried not to gasp as Talton shook hands with him.  The Sage was shocked at the iron grip of the smith.  “Good eve, Goodman Talton...I am Kruune Tallus, wandering mage of Colatto.”  Kruune visibly relaxed as Talton released his hand from his own death grip.  “I request the hospitality of your house in exchange for my services.”

            Talton scrutinized Kruune carefully for a minute before stepping aside and sweeping his hand towards one of the rooms in his house.  “I bid you to please enter and entertain my children.”  Talton waited until Kruune had walked past him before shutting and bolting the door down tight.  Without a word, Kruune waited until Talton was finished before following the smith to a brightly lit room with cheerful laughter drifting from it.

            Upon entering the room, Kruune noticed the little girl that answered the door was excitedly telling three of her sisters about the magic user.  All of the children looked excited at the prospect of being able to see magic.  Kruune looked around the room to see an old woman holding a young girl of two years old in her arms and rocking her back and forth.  His eyes finished traveling the room to take in a beautiful woman with blond hair and green eyes holding a newborn baby.  Kruune’s breath caught as he saw the baby’s aura begin to shine brightly.  His journey was finally over . . .

            A tugging at his sleeve interrupted Kruune from his reverie.  It was the same little girl that had answered the door when he had knocked.  “Hello!” she said in an excited voice.  “My name is Kelli!  These are my sisters Natala, Gwennyth, and Johanna.”  She next pointed towards the old woman with the little girl now tugging at the woman’s long gray hair.  “That is Grammy Aliyah with my baby sister, Eliza,” Kelli moved her finger to the woman holding the baby, “and that is my mama and my new baby brother!”

            Talton moved towards his wife and leaned down to kiss her and the baby on their foreheads.  “Donna, we have a very special visitor.”  He looked up at Kruune and then again at his wife.  “A mage has come by to show us some of his magic.”

            At that cue, Kruune began to create little colorful flowers of light that hung in the air above the children’s heads before floating slowly down to the ground.  He followed that trick up with magical scarves, changing pillows into rabbits, and his boots danced themselves while he played a flute.  The children danced with the boots and laughter rang throughout the house.  During the magic show, Kruune felt Talton’s eyes on him the entire time.  His silent watching of the performing Sage was interrupted only with a sweeping glance every now and then that took in the entire family lingering the most on his wife and newborn baby.

At the end of Kruune’s tricks, Talton stood up and pulled the Sage aside.  “Now that we are finished with the parlor tricks, tell me why you have come here.”

Kruune scratched at his beard and told the story that he had rehearsed while walking towards the house.  “I wandered into the town and heard about the baby’s birth from the townsfolk, so I came to offer my services as an entertainer.”

Talton flexed his massive muscles and clenched his fist.  “Please tell me the real reason you have come here,” Talton said testily.  “I don’t believe in coincidences, and you arriving the day after my son’s birth seems too much like one especially considering my family’s history.  Now give me a good reason why I should not forget that I am a good host.”

Kruune’s mouth nearly dropped open before he regained his composure and took a deep breath.  “I give my apologies to you.”  He hesitated a moment before pointing towards the door.  “Please, may we step outside?  I do not think that this is a matter that we should discuss in front of the children.”  Talton thought for a moment before signaling for Kruune to lead on to the front door.

After the two had stepped outside, Kruune apologized for the misinformation and told Talton the tasks that the Gods had given him.  Afterwards, Kruune waited while Talton uttered a few choice curses.  With a final uttered oath about the Demons, Talton turned on Kruune.  “My family will no longer be involved in this war between your Gods and those cursed Demons!  Leave my home at once!”

The Sage had finally had enough.  His eyes grew hard, and his shoulders straightened.  “Talton Smithson!” he roared.  The smith stopped short with his jaw gaping open.  He was definitely not expecting the Sage’s change in stature and voice.  “I have had enough of your rudeness!”  With a few gestures and a couple of magical phrases, a nimbus of fire surrounded Kruune and his eyes began to blaze.  “Now calm yourself and listen to me carefully!”  With that, Kruune released the nimbus of fire into the air where it floated away harmlessly into space.  Talton wisely kept quiet and focused his full attention on the Sage.

“The battle between the Gods and the Demons is finished.  It ended twenty-one years ago with the banishment of the Demons.  I can assure you that the old Gods are in no shape to take up weapons against the Demons and beat them back.”  Kruune leaned heavily upon his staff as he remembered the last time he had seen all the Purebloods three years ago.  The entities of Love, Colanthia and Miklovan, had been the latest to become shades of what they once were.  The birth of so many of his new kin was slightly shadowed by the loss of so much of the past.

Regaining his runaway thoughts, Kruune set his green-gold eyes on the smith and decided to tell him everything.  “The Gods are dying out one by one.  They are becoming mortals now, Talton.  At the rate they are leaving us, the last nine will be Halflings in just nine years.  They have given me power to complete my task, but my life is not infinite either.  If the Demons are allowed to get out of control like they did back then, we will be powerless to stop them.

“Make no mistake, Talton Smithson.  The next war for Icandria will be the Demons versus all of us.  I’m afraid that is a battle we will not win.”

The smith had listened to every word that the Sage had said to him, and the weight of the words seemed to stun the large man into silence.  Without a word, Talton made his way to the forge where he would feel most comfortable followed by the stoic Sage.  Neither the fires of his trade nor the sight of his hammer and anvil did anything to warm the chill that wrapped its icy claw around his heart.  He had sworn long ago that he would not get involved in the world’s conflicts anymore, that he would keep his family and his family alone safe.  However, he could not deny the words of Kruune Tallus.  He knew the Sage was not lying because deep inside his heart and soul, Talton Smithson also believed that it was only a matter of time before the Demons would return to Icandria.

“I believe in your words, mage.  I believe in everything you say.  However, I must ask you why this must be my doing.  Why must I bear this burden again?”

Kruune was sure that the burden Talton was talking about was Magik, the Sword of Icandria.  Kruune could see that the Sword had never really lost its complete grip on Talton’s soul and that it was the source of his slowed aging as well as an internal struggle that was invisible to all but the smith.  “For reasons unknown,” Kruune smoothly lied, “the Sword has chosen your family as its protectors.  It can be found by anyone with the courage and strength, but can only be acquired by someone of your blood and heritage.”

At this, Kruune once again leaned heavily upon his staff.  Talton stood staring into the forge’s fire for a very long time before finally turning towards Kruune with a somewhat resigned look upon his face.  “Against my better judgment, I pledge to you my sword arm, mage.  I care no more for the rest of the world, but I will do anything that I need to in order to defend my family that you have met tonight.  Even if that means depriving them of their father, I will do it.”

Now, Kruune thought, comes the hard part.  “It’s not quite that simple, Talton Smithson.  Although I admire your willingness to devote yourself to this, I have to perform a test to see if you are the one to take up this fight.  Will you submit to this test?”

Talton flexed his hand and Kruune could see that the smith was still not totally convinced about submitting to this.  Kruune already knew that Talton was not the one who was to take up Magik and wield it against the Demon horde, but he still needed Talton’s support for the wielder was his child and while Talton was willing to gamble with his own life, Kruune could not be sure he was willing to gamble with a child’s life.

Finally, Talton nodded to himself and looked at Kruune.  “I’m ready for this test of yours, Kruune Tallus.”  Kruune was surprised by Talton’s sudden use of his name instead of the cutting way that he used the word mage. 

Just in case, he had been wrong the first time, Kruune held his hand up to Talton.  “I need you to relax.  I am going to dive into your aura.  If you are the one who is to wield Magik, your aura will reveal it.”  At that, Kruune released his mind from the waking world and concentrated solely on the spiritual energy that surrounded Toroc Smithson.  He read many things coming from the soul of the smith, but nothing was pointing Kruune toward the smith as his charge.

After a few moments, Kruune released his hold and came back to consciousness.  With a sigh, he looked up at the smith who had a questioning look in his eyes.  Kruune shook his head.  “I’m sorry, but you’re not the one who this responsibility will fall too.”  The Sage was sad to utter the words that would doom the child.

With a slightly churlish oath, Talton directed his eyes toward his home and said in a slightly defeated voice, “Which of them is the one you seek?”

Seeing the wounded look in Talton’s eyes, Kruune was sure that Talton already knew what his answer was going to be.  “I’m afraid that the boy will be the one,” Kruune watched the man’s face fall slightly.

Talton’s hands began flexing again and, to stop them, he laid his hands on the anvil next his hammer and tongs.  A few moments of silence passed between the two men before Talton looked up at his visitor.  “I understand.  I knew when he was born that he was meant to do many things, but I had hoped none of those things would require fighting.”  Talton picked up the hammer and held it firmly in his hand.  The hammer seemed to be almost a part of the smith’s body.  Kruune began to wonder if the boy would ever look like that when he was older, or if he would look more at ease with a sword instead.  It was a thought that Kruune tried to banish right away.

Talton looked to be having the same thoughts.  “So be it.  I shall instruct him in the ways of my trade.”  He laid the hammer down back on the anvil.  “I shall also ensure that he begins his training in the ways of the soldier.  I was never really good at fighting and almost did not make it back the first time, but I will ensure that my son never has to worry the same way.”

Kruune adjusted his staff and held his hand out to Talton.  “I shall do my best to watch over your son and protect him with all my power.  The boy shall never be harmed before I am.  That I swear to you.”

Talton gripped the Sage’s hand with his own powerful hand.  “It is agreed then, Kruune Tallus.  I shall raise my son to be strong of body.  I shall require you to help raise my son to be strong of mind.”  The smith let go of Kruune’s hand and turned back towards his house.  “With your help, we shall prepare Toroc for the difficult days ahead of him.”