Legon Awakening: Book One in the Legon Series (6 page)

Sasha’s face brightened a bit. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course I am. I’m going to head over in the
morning. Don’t worry about waking me up, I’ll be fine.” He said
this last part with a smile.

She laughed. “Are you sure? I don’t mind
helping.”

Legon’s face darkened a bit as he reached up and felt
the lump that was still on his head. “I know you don’t.”

They sat quietly for a while. Legon closed his eyes,
thinking that he may have been a little overzealous at work today.
He reached around his neck and rubbed the top of his shoulders a
bit.

“Had a long day?” she asked.

“I think I may have strained something today, but it
shouldn’t matter. I got ahead, so I’ll have most of the day
tomorrow.” His neck and shoulders were really starting to hurt now
that he was thinking about it. “
The perfect end to the perfect
day,”
he thought. Sasha scooted around behind him and started
rubbing and pushing at his neck and shoulders.

“Sash, you know you don’t have to…”

“I know, but I haven’t done anything today and the
muscle does feel tight. Let me fix it now so you’re not hurting for
the rest of the week.”

“You’re the best, you know that?” he said, turning
his neck to her.

“You’re just lucky I haven’t done anything today.
Don’t expect this to become a regular thing. Besides, I owe you
from this morning on the hill.”

He reached up, stopping her hand, “You don’t owe me
for that.”

She didn’t answer, but he heard her sniff and knew
what she was thinking.

* * * * *

Sasha was surprised at how knotted his back was.
“
He must have had a hard day,”
she thought. She moved her
hands along his shirt along the top of his shoulders to try and get
a better fix on a knot. In truth this was as much for her as him.
She needed to be doing something. She just wanted a semi-normal
evening. She paused and looked down at his slightly exposed back,
at the tattoo that had been on him from before Edis found him in
the woods. Normally it was a dark green that was almost black, but
tonight it was a deep purple.

It wasn’t like any other tattoo she’d seen. Most
tattoos were of names and pictures, all the lines coming together,
but not on this one. None of the lines touched, and if they
overlapped the image would end right before the other and continue
again just past the other side. In the center of the tattoo was a
circle that was filled in. Three curving branches came from it,
spaced out and symmetrical and covered in little leaves that were
amazingly detailed. The circle and branches overlapped what
appeared to be a triangle that was filled in except where the
circle and branches went over it. There was another circle
surrounding everything, with only the tips of each branch breaking
out from it. In whole the tattoo was about three inches wide and
three inches tall.

Nobody had been able to figure out why someone would
do this to a baby, but now Sasha knew the question was not why but
how. Tattoos didn’t change color and they distorted with growth.
This one had not, and that meant one thing:
magic
.

She continued working on the knot, Legon blissfully
unaware of her momentary pause. She should say something to him,
but what would she say? He, like everyone else in the family, was
at the breaking point today. She would wait until tomorrow, wait
and collect her thoughts. After a bit she stopped rubbing his
shoulders and sat back down. She was still thinking about the
tattoo. If it had been made by magic, then why? And did that mean
that there was more to it than just decoration? She never worried
that much about her brother. He was tough and could take care of
himself, but if he had been marked with magic….

“Thanks Sash,” said Legon with a yawn. “It’s getting
late. I think I’m going to go to bed.”

Sasha smiled at him and nodded her head. “If you
must. I will see you in the morning.”

* * * * *

Legon got up and stretched his arms above his head,
then leaned over and gave her a huge hug. He walked out of the
room, shut the door, and walked into his own. The bed was bathed in
soft moonlight and looked wonderful. There was a slight breeze
outside that made the room feel cool and nice. He undressed down to
his undershorts and slipped under the covers. His mind drifted from
thought to thought in a haze as oftentimes happens when one is
falling asleep. Legon drifted to sleep in what felt like moments,
never knowing that next door his sister lay awake, thinking and
worrying.

The Arrow’s Flight

“
Gray is sometimes seen as a mix of light
and dark. This, however, is incorrect. To the trained mind and soul
there is no gray, simply light and dark, good and evil, joy and
sorrow. Gray is only misconception, and it is in this misconception
where failure occurs. Yet dark is not always evil, nor is light
always good; you may move to one and find the other.”

-Lectures of Logic, House Paldin

Legon was walking in a misty field of soft heather.
He couldn’t see the sky through the mist, but there was enough
light to tell that the sun was up. He could barely see five feet in
front of him. He could feel the mist fill his lungs with each
breath and feel the weight of it. The mist was cool and felt good.
Legon knew that he was not anywhere he’d ever been before. The
weight and moisture in the air made his skin feel moist, like after
a heavy rain storm. He was in the lowlands somewhere. I
’m
probably by the sea. Arkin told me they get… what did he call it?
Foggy. Fog down by the sea, that’s what this mist must be,
he
thought.

There was sound coming from ahead of him. Something
heavy was dragging, accompanied by thumps of something large
hitting the ground. He heard a deep rumble that reverberated in his
chest. The sound was moving toward him. He could feel his heart
race. A branch snapped in the far distance and the dragging sound
stopped. He could tell now that whatever was making the sound was
right in front of him through the fog, but the snapping branch had
made it stop, which meant that there was more than one of whatever
was here.

Silence. A sound from overhead and a bit forward.
W
hat is it?
Legon’s ears strained trying to place the sound.
It was like breathing, but it couldn’t be. The breaths were long
and deep, he couldn’t think of anything big enough to breathe like
that. Then a thought came to his mind:
Only a dragon would
breathe that deeply
. His body became rigid. I
t’s a
dragon!

Up to this point his heart had been pounding with a
sense of adventure, but now his blood ran cold and his heart seemed
to stop beating altogether. The only dragons in the land were
Iumenta dragons, and they were cruel and clever. The deep breathing
caught for a moment. Legon stood stalk-still, hoping beyond hope
that it couldn’t hear, smell, or see him. Then a new dread tore
through him. D
ragons can read thoughts! It doesn’t need to smell
me!
He had to run. He turned on his heels and bolted away from
the sound, his legs and lungs burning as he sprinted. There was a
snort and a grumble from behind him and from above there came a
resounding thud… thud…. Thud. The other dragon.

Legon felt the air in his chest catch with every
thud. The sound was at first far away, then over him… and now in
front of him. The ground shook and he heard the sound of claws
scraping against rocks in the field. He was trapped. One dragon was
behind him and the other in front. He wondered if dying was going
to hurt. Then the fog parted and Legon saw a flash of bright
blue.

He sat bolt upright in his bed, covered in cold sweat
from head to foot. He could almost hear his heart trying to beat
its way out of his chest. He was trembling almost uncontrollably
and his breathing was heavy and labored. The dream was slipping
through his memory like sand. Soon he remembered none of it and
began to calm down. “It was just a dream, nothing more,” he said in
a whisper. “You’re fine. Go back to sleep”.

He lay back down, more tired than he had been when he
went to bed. His legs ached as if he’d been running. The room was
dark. He felt himself drifting again. He soon fell asleep and by
morning would not remember even waking up in the night.

* * * * *

Legon woke to the warmth of the sun’s rays on his
face. He slowly sat up in bed, rubbed his eyes and stretched his
arms above his head. “
Hmm, I feel tired still. I must not have
slept well,”
he thought with a yawn. He lay back down and
considered going to sleep again, but an image of Sasha and a bucket
popped in his head. “Maybe I should get up,” he said aloud to
himself.

He got out of bed, walked over to the dresser, and
pulled out a blue shirt and brown pants. He pulled on some socks
and boots and walked out of his room into the hall. Sasha’s door
was open and he could hear her downstairs. When he got downstairs
he could see her flitting around the kitchen, making breakfast and
humming to herself. Her red dress spun as she turned to smile up at
him. He could tell that she hadn’t slept well last night either,
though it didn’t seem to slow her down. M
aybe I was snoring
really loud last night and kept us both from a good sleep,
he
thought.

He walked in front of the mirror for his normal
pre-day inspection. There was a dark spot on his chin, and for a
moment his insides squirmed with excitement. He reached up to feel
the stubble… and his fingers slid across his smooth face and
smudged a spot of dirt. Feeling stupid, he looked at Sasha in the
mirror to make sure she hadn’t seen his mistake. She was too busy
scooping eggs onto plates. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You look tired this morning. I didn’t keep you up
snoring, did I?”

She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed in
thought, and said, as if she was having a hard time remembering,
“No, I just had a hard time falling asleep. You weren’t snoring…
although I kept hearing you say something like ‘Sasha is the most
beautiful girl in Airmelia and so smart and funny and…’ oh, I can’t
remember the rest.”

Legon shook his head. “No wonder I’m so tired - I was
delirious last night.”

Sasha laughed and said curtly to him, “Rude!”

They sat down and Legon ate his eggs. They were good,
but not as good as Sasha’s pies were. After they ate Sasha washed
the dishes and took off her apron, then went upstairs to get her
money pouch. Legon walked to the space under the stairs to get
their bows. Kovos was always up for shooting, and they hadn’t
gotten the chance yesterday. Legon grabbed Sasha’s hunting bow and
his combat bow.

Legon, like most of the men in town, had two bows,
one that was for hunting and the other for combat. A hunting bow
usually had a fifty to sixty pound draw weight on them, perfect for
bringing down all but the largest animals but underpowered against
armored targets. Chain mail was expensive, so very few people had
it, but bandits and soldiers that didn’t have chain mail wore a
thick doublet that was made of layered cloth and leather. The
doublet would not be able to stop an arrow cold at close range, but
it could from a distance. For a hunting bow to penetrate the armor
at close range the shooter had to be about ten feet away. It was
for this reason that combat bows were significantly stronger.

The average man had a bow with a draw weight of one
hundred and sixty to one hundred and eighty pounds, which gave it
an effective range of about two hundred yards and the power to go
through leather armor and punch through chain male from about
eighty yards away. Combat bows were too over-powered for hunting
but were a necessary precaution. With them, most men got to the
point where they could fire between ten and twenty arrows a
minute.

Legon, however, was unusually strong, and his bow had
a two hundred pound draw weight. A beautiful weapon, it was made of
yew and as was as tall as him. He could hit a head-size target nine
times out of ten from one hundred and eighty yards away and could
fire eighteen arrows a minute. Only two other men in town, Brack
and Arkin, could fire such a bow, but neither could claim Legon’s
accuracy.

Legon walked over to the door and waited for Sasha.
She came down the steps and they walked outside. The town was alive
at this time in the morning, and people were moving in all
directions in the streets. They began to walk in the direction of
Kovos’ house. They waved and said hello to townspeople as they
passed, and soon they were walking by the town carpenter’s house
and shop. As they passed, Sasha touched Legon’s arm. “Let’s go say
hello to Arkin. I haven’t seen him in awhile.” Sasha liked Arkin.
He was the only one in the town that was truly kind to her, and
Legon liked him too. He had always been a good family friend.

“Ok, that sounds good.” They walked up to the door of
the shop and walked in.

As Legon opened the door their noses were filled with
the scent of oak, cherry, pine, and other kinds of wood. They
skirted around the counter and headed into the open work area.
Sasha walked to the center of the room and ran her hand over a
large table.

“He’s inlayed a checkered pattern on this. What do
you think—cherry and oak?” she asked, inspecting the unfinished
wood.

Legon glanced at it. “Yup, looks like it, and big
too. I’d say for a family of eight. Looks like he’s got the chairs
in that corner. It doesn’t look like he’s here, though. His tools
are on the wall.”
Way too many tools
.

“You’re right. The back door is closed, and there
isn’t even any dust in the air. Odd. I don’t think I’ve ever seen
this place like this. Do you think he’s in today?”

She was right. Normally dust motes filled the air,
swirling up to the skylight high above them. Lighting a place like
this was difficult. Fire was an obvious liability with everything
being made of wood, and more important the air usually being filled
with sawdust. It was rare but not unheard of for a carpenter’s shop
to burn down from a fire stated by stray sawdust. Arkin’s shop was
well lit with the two skylights and large windows on either side of
the door.