Legon Awakening: Book One in the Legon Series (27 page)

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, looking
perplexed.

“Aren’t you mad at me? That was private stuff I saw
and felt.”

Sara reached out and placed her hand gently, almost
lovingly, on his arm and looked him in the eyes. “You took my pain
from me. You gave me relief from my suffering. You should never
feel sorry for doing that for someone.”

“I guess I don’t understand.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts. “Ok, when you saw
all those things that happened to me, you felt it, right?”

“Yes, everything. It was horrible.”

“Yes, it was, but when you were in my head suffering
those things, I couldn’t feel them anymore. I only felt the
compassion that you had for me. Now you are truly the only person
on earth that can completely understand that part of my life and
who I am.”

“Ok, but don’t you still have the pain? And aren’t
you upset with me for invading your feelings?”

“Not at all. I can remember the pain, but I can also
remember the compassion that you have for me. And if I ever want to
talk about it I know I can go to you and you’ll understand
perfectly. Have you ever truly felt love from someone? Actually
felt what they were feeling?”

“Well, no, I guess not.”

She smiled. “Exactly. I have now, and I will always
remember that. I can say that I truly know that someone does care
about me and that I’m not alone. Do you realize what a gift that
is?”

She gave his arm a squeeze, trying to emphasize her
point. He felt himself begin to smile. He hadn’t thought about it
like that. When she put it that way he realized that perhaps he had
done something kind for her. There was something noble about taking
on another’s burden. He was willing to do it again, too. In fact,
he was willing to do anything for Sara’s wellbeing. He would pay
whatever price he needed to.

“I guess it hadn’t occurred to me to look at it that
way. Thanks.” Legon paused. “Oh, I almost forgot. What was that
word you called me back at the shop?”

“I called you a Venefica.”

“What does that mean?”

Arkin spoke from behind him. “It means ‘user’.”

“‘User’?” Legon asked.

“Of magic,” Sara clarified.

“Good. Sara, I take it living in a city close to
Iumenta has taught you a thing or two?” Arkin said.

“That’s one way of putting it,” she said with a bit
of a grimace.

Arkin’s voice took on the teacher’s tone that was
becoming the norm. “What you did today was magic obviously, and
people who use magic are called Venefica. They practice the art of
Imperia.”

The word was foreign to Legon. “Imperia?”

“Yes. That is what it is called when you use magic.
The word is Elfish. All magic is done in that language.”

Trepidation started to creep into Legon’s mind.
“Arkin, do you know magic?”

Arkin paused for a while. He then held up his hand
and clicked his fingers saying, “Flamma.”

From his fingers a jet of green flame shot up about
six inches.

Legon reared back. “What kind of…”

“The color is different for every Venefica, but the
more magic is infused in the flame, the stronger the color will
appear. We’ll talk more after we set up camp somewhere.” Arkin
didn’t seem surprised by this development in the least bit. If
anything, it seemed to be what he’d expected.

The sun was still relatively high in the sky. They
had a few hours before dark, plenty of time to move away from
Salez, which was good. Sooner or later Sara’s former owner would
realize that he was a person short. There was a lot to worry about,
but nothing that Legon could do at the moment so there was no point
dwelling on it. In his mind Legon recited a script that Arkin
taught him.

Fear is the blinder. I am the light and master of
sight. I will master my fear and never again see night.

As he repeated the script, he took deep breaths
through his nose, each time letting tension out of his body. As he
calmed, more things brought themselves to his attention. He focused
on his sense of smell. With each breath he inhaled the scent of
grass and trees. Next to his ears was the sound of the horses,
Sasha and Sara talking, the creak of leather, and the buzz of a
fly. Now he concentrated on touch, feeling the soft breeze as it
cooled, telling him the sun was on its way down. The northern
breeze was moist and dense. It would rain tonight. He had better
take extra care setting up his tent.

* * * * *

“
What the hell was going on? Legon could do
magic?”
Keither wondered what he had gotten himself into. He
shifted himself in Murray’s Saddle. Kovos slowed his horse and fell
back in step with him.

“What do you think?” Kovos asked.

“I don’t know. We’re in over our heads, I’ll tell you
that much,” replied Keither.

“Why is that? What do you know about magic?”

The others couldn’t hear him, but he still kept
quiet. People who used magic were rare, and magic itself was
treated with respect and care. People were also scared of it
because, frankly, not that much was known about it—at least not by
the common person.

“I don’t know much about it, but it may explain why
Arkin was able to hide in Salmont without detection,” Keither
answered.

“Do we need to worry about getting taken over or
something?”

This was an odd turn of the tables. Kovos was coming
to him asking for advice. He never did that. Kovos had always
treated him like a helpless little boy, but not now.

“Well, if Arkin wanted to hurt us he could have done
it a long time ago. And I don’t think that magic users can take you
over, but I’m not sure.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Kovos righted himself in his saddle and resumed a
normal pace. Keither should probably be worrying about magic right
now, but that wasn’t what was on his mind. Sara was on his mind,
and also what he thought of the empire and the queen which, just
hours before, he had thought weren’t that bad.

In general, the whole of society was well taken care
of, but at what cost? What Sara had gone through was appalling, but
it sounded like it wasn’t common. Sara was a prostitute, sure, but
not everyone had to be that, most were probably labor of some sort.
A chill ran down his back. How many luxuries did he have due to
slavery?

Arkin was right. The queen was evil. That was the
only word for it. How much of what Arkin told them was true? Also,
how much of the propaganda about the resistance was true? There
were a lot of questions running through his mind, and a lot of his
previous views were changing rapidly. If Kovos had asked him a week
ago about magic users, he would have said that they were bad news
unless controlled by the government, but after what Legon did…
“
Maybe having people who know magic free of the government’s
control is a good thing,”
he thought.

Then it dawned on him. This whole thing was about
magic and controlling it. What Legon had done was proof that if
enough people in the empire knew about magic then the government
could be held in check. Or could it? People knew magic and yet they
still allowed horrible things to happen.

It felt good to be thinking. It was his element, his
weapon. He leaned back in the saddle, finally comfortable on the
horse. He tilted his head from side to side feeling his neck pop.
Up ahead, Sara was doing the same as she talked to Legon and Sasha.
It was good to see her again.

* * * * *

Legon felt that sensation in his head again and
stopped hitting the tent spike he was driving into the ground.

“What is it?” Sasha asked concernedly.

“I think I’m going to use magic again.” He shouldn’t
be scared but he was. What if he couldn’t control this stuff? What
if someone got hurt? Arkin spoke from across the camp.

“Is there something you really want done?”

“No not particularly. Actually, I could go for not
feeling, well, whatever this is.”

Arkin laughed. “Come here. I think we can put that to
use.”

Legon walked carefully over to the fire pit where
Arkin was standing. He knew he looked like a moron, walking slowly
as if he were holding a pail of water, but what if his control
slipped?

“Don’t worry, you can walk normally,” Arkin said.

“I don’t know. Are you sure?” replied Legon. “I mean,
how much do you know about this stuff?”

“Obviously a lot, Legon, if he hid in town for as
long as he did,” Keither said.

“You don’t know that.”

“He’s right, Legon.” Arkin bent over the wood in the
fire pit and uttered, “Flamma.”

As he spoke, an emerald plume of flame erupted in the
pit and then turned into a normal orange fire. There was a
collective gasp and Kovos jumped as if someone had thrown a snake
at his feet. Legon stopped, mouth open. How was Keither able to
figure it out?

“How did you do that?” Legon asked.

“It’s easy. You try.” Arkin waved his hand over the
fire and it died. “Come close to the pit and place your hand over
it.”

Legon knelt next to the blackened wood and placed his
right hand tentatively over the still warm pit.

“Good. Now concentrate on that feeling in your head.
Let it fill you.”

“Fill me?”

“When you breathe in, imagine a flower blooming in
your head, like when you feel energy move through you doing the
Jezeer.”

“Ok.” Legon breathed deeply and concentrated. He felt
the energy grow.

“Ok, good. Now I want you to think of starting a
fire, ok? Picture flames in this pit in your head.”

“Ok, got it.”

“Good. Now, concentrating on that image, say the word
“Flamma”
and let the energy run down your arm and out your
hand.”

“
Flamma
.” The sensation shot down his arm like
before. He jerked his hand up and with a yell from everyone, a jet
of violet flame burst from his hand and into the air. Sasha and
Sara screamed, but the flame only lasted a second and then died. He
noticed that he was on his feet and franticly shaking his hand.

“You’re ok, Legon. Your hand is not on fire, relax,”
Arkin said.

“What the hell!” He slowly shook his hand, waiting
for it to burn again. The flame didn’t hurt; in fact it just felt
kind of warm and good. Still, that was fire. Kovos looked amazed
and excited.

“Do it again!” he shouted.

“Wha-?”

“Do it again. That was amazing. You shot fire out of
your hand.”

“I know, I was there. Why are you happy about
it?”

“I thought I made it clear—you shot fire from your
hand! Do it again, here, at Keither this time.” Kovos reached over
and grabbed Keither’s arms, holding him in front of Legon.

“Kovos!” Sasha said angrily.

“What, Sasha? He’ll be fine, come on.”

“I’m not shooting fire at your brother. That’s messed
up,” Legon said.

There was the sound of suppressed laughter. He turned
to see Arkin and Sara both doubled over, shaking with laughter.
Sasha gave them a stern look that was fading into a smile.

“Sara, you’re laughing too?” she said.

“Yes, I can’t help it. Kovos, come on, that’s sick,”
she choked out through tears.

“Let go of me,” Keither said, slapping Kovos
away.

“Or what? You would have been fine. The fire was
fast. It would only take off your eyebrows and some hair. Not a big
deal.”

“Kovos, only a smith would think that wasn’t a big
deal,” Arkin said warmly. They settled down a bit and Arkin decided
that it might be a good idea for Legon to learn more about magic
before trying it again. They all sat around the fire pit and waited
for Arkin to start for yet another night.

“Ok, Legon, I’m sorry. Truth be told, I didn’t think
you would even produce a spark for your first time trying to use
magic.”

“Well, is that bad then? And I did it by accident in
Salez. I mean, is there something wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, but you must be a
powerful Venefica,” Sara said. “I would think at least a class
four… but wait, you’re human.” Sara turned to Arkin, looking
concerned.

“A class what?” Sasha asked.

“Arkin is he part—”

“Elf? Yes, I am.” Legon filled in the gaps. Sara’s
forehead knitted together and then a look of incredulity and joy
crossed her face.

“You mean the Everser Vald?” Her voice was almost a
whisper. The start of a tear formed in her eye.

“What di-” Legon began.

“Nothing. She said nothing,” Arkin started hurriedly.
“I will explain classes to you.”

“He doesn’t know?” Sara said with hurt and anger in
her voice.

“Don’t know what?” Legon asked.

“Wh-” Sara began.

“Nothing, Sara.” Arkin went from impatient to angry.
Sara opened her mouth but fell silent at a murderous glance from
Arkin.

“Arkin don’t you stop her, what was she saying to
me?” Anger was flooding Legon as he turned to the carpenter. What
was he not being told? “Tell me, I want to know!”

“You aren’t ready to know, and even if you were I
cannot permit it!”

“What you can do is tell me what you’re hiding!”
Legon stood and started toward Arkin slowly. He noticed Kovos by
his side. Sasha reached up and grabbed his shoulder. He tried to
shake it off but couldn’t.

“Legon, no. This is not the answer.”

It wasn’t the words that stopped him, but the
emotions. He turned to look straight into Sasha’s glassy blue eyes.
He could feel her overwhelming desire for no more violence. His
anger left almost as fast as had come, and then the connection to
Sasha stopped. He turned slowly to Arkin, who no longer looked
angry, but rather sad.

“Arkin, what is happening?” There was fear in Legon’s
voice; more than he knew he was feeling.

“I want to tell you, but I don’t. It’s a great and
terrible thing. Please, I have made many vows to keep this secret.
Don’t break them for me. Not yet, not now.”