Legacy of Dreams: Freedom Read online

  Legacy of Dreams

  Freedom

  by

  Thomas J. L. Green

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2017 Thomas J. L. Green. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2_2017.12.30

  FREEDOM IS FOR ALL

  Contents

  1Luna

  2Arthur

  3Iowen

  4Iowen

  5Luna

  6Luna

  7Luna

  8Iowen

  9Iowen

  10Iowen

  11Luna

  12Salazar

  13Iowen

  14Luna

  15Salazar

  16Luna

  17Iowen

  18Salazar

  19Luna

  20Raven

  21Luna

  22Salazar

  23Luna

  24Raven

  25Iowen

  26Luna

  27Salazar

  28Iowen

  29Lucas

  30Luna

  31Iowen

  32Iowen

  33Lucas

  34Collward

  35Merewen

  36Collward

  37Luna

  38Collward

  39Salazar

  40Luna

  41Raven

  42Lucas

  43Luna

  44Iowen

  45Lucas

  46Collward

  47Salazar

  48Raven

  49Lucas

  50Zerae

  51Elizabeth

  52Lucas

  53Luna

  54Miranda

  55Merewen

  56Elias

  57Raven

  58Salazar

  59Collward

  60Iowen

  61Lucas

  62Luna

  63Iowen

  64Salazar

  65Collward

  66Luna

  67Luna

  68Raven

  69Iowen

  70Salazar

  71Iowen

  72Luna

  73Lucas

  74Luna

  75Luna

  76Collward

  77Luna

  78Elizabeth

  79Luna

  80Salazar

  81Luna

  82Lucas

  83Luna

  84Lucas

  85Luna

  86Salazar

  87James

  88Luna

  89Luna

  90Salazar

  91Luna

  92Lucas

  93Collward

  94Lucas

  95Salazar

  96Raven

  97Salazar

  98Luna

  99Salazar

  100Luna

  101Iowen

  102Luna

  103Nashimaeal

  104Raven

  105Salazar

  106Collward

  107Luna

  108Iowen

  109Luna

  110Collward

  111Lucas

  112Miranda

  113Raven

  114Lucas

  115Collward

  116Lucas

  117Gly’Yen’Thn

  118Nashimaeal

  119Lucas

  120Nashimaeal

  121Collward

  122Miranda

  123Lucas

  124Iowen

  125Raven

  126Miranda

  127Raven

  Prologue

  While he sat at the after-match supper, prince Jonathan Stallington felt troubled. The rest of the city council was present, as were the other local nobles. Their chatter had a light tone to it and made a pleasant background to his otherwise dark thoughts.

  The match was good, but I’m running out of opponents to throw at Raven. There is the two-headed monstrosity my men captured in the woods, a couple more mercenary groups who got lured in by outrageously high victory reward… but that’s it. I will likely get one or two more mercenary groups or captured bandits, but that won’t cover more than the next few weeks. Where are the times when Raven fought four times per week?

  The times when volunteers swarmed the registration to fight his champion were long gone. The fact that matches do not necessarily end in death motivated many to take their shot at the stars.

  Yet now, twelve years later, the only ones brave enough to face Raven are mercenaries. My healers are good, but they can’t do miracles.

  Then again, saving the lives of two of the men from the last match could have been considered a miracle by itself. He had the surviving men rewarded more than fairly and sent compensation to the families of the ones his healers could not help.

  Nevertheless, I need more. Raven has so much more to give to his city… but I just can’t think of how.

  “Trouble in paradise?” asked his oldest friend, lord Ricochieu as he turned to him.

  Lord Albrecht von Ricochieu was an old man, but still younger than him. A powerfully built warrior, Lord Ricochieu was the perfect partner to his lean body of a stereotypical sly politician. Often prince Stallington wished he wasn’t so easy to read, but years upon years of sitting on a comfortable chair had taken their toll on his physique.

  “Quite so. I have run out of opponents for Raven,” Stallington conceded.

  “Well… we had to run out of them eventually. It has been working too well in the past decade, after all.”

  Indeed, it has. Arena matches and its star, the Child of God, gained a lot of attention. The attention brought money that allowed him to invest heavily in the city guard. Well trained and equipped, the city guard would go out and catch whatever criminals and monsters it could. It would bring them in chains so they could be used to fight in the arena, which gained even more attention. Doubly so as the safety of the Illysaeas region was becoming ever more famous. That attracted people, people attracted business and bought tickets to the arena. Twenty years ago, Illysaeas was a small town, twelve years ago it was a small city. Now, it is one of the ten largest cities on the continent. A booming provincial capital.

  “We have cleaned out the area within two days of travel around the town. The criminality is down to nothing. New bandit group hasn’t appeared in years. The occasional monster that wanders into our territory and greedy mercenaries are simply not enough to occupy someone like Raven,” Stallington summarized.

  “Then, we just need to aim higher,” replied lord Ricochieu after a brief pause for thought. “I have had this idea for a long time. Imagine if arena owners were to organize a tournament that would make champions of the individual arenas travel across the continent and fight each other.”

  “Which would gain a great amount of attention and fame, especially to the winners. After all, who would travel to watch the losers,” prince Stallington interrupted the lord.

  “The question is, how do we sell this to the rest of the arena owners?”

  “Most arena owners are members of the Slaver Union, much like me. We sell it to the Union; it handles the rest,” the prince smiled.

  “I am happy to see it has caught your interest, my friend.”

 
“A tournament needs to be bigger than duels, something like five men teams with occasional monsters should be very interesting to anyone who wants to sell whatever slaves and creatures they have,” the prince added.

  “Five men… how do we select and prepare our team? It would be best to have a head start since we are the ones bringing this up in the first place,” the lord concluded.

  “Easiest task of my life, all I need to do is send Raven,” smiled the prince happily.

  “Aren’t you underestimating the opposition, Jonathan? This is risky even if we send multiple full teams. Besides, Raven has been busier with staring at the sky rather than fighting his opponents as of late.”

  “That is just a matter of motivation.”

  “Do you have a way to motivate Raven to actually try to win the competition instead of sabotaging it?”

  “I will promise him freedom… or at least an illusion of it,” smiled the prince widely.

  Lord Ricochieu failed to hide his surprise.

  Prince Stallington paid it no heed.

  How old was Raven when he was brought into the arena? Five years old? Maybe six. Now, he is over twenty and realistically speaking, he has earned his freedom more than a dozen times. This would be the most fitting end to our accidental partnership. Raven, the Child of God, winning his freedom in a competition against all the other champions of arenas from all over the continent.

  1 Luna

  The forest was dense and grim. The moon was hiding behind a wall of heavy clouds. The night was as dark as nights get. Exactly the way Luna liked it. She was dashing through the forest as easily as if it was an open field. Nimble as a cat, fast as lightning, Luna was gliding among the trees like a shadow-made manifest. But the creatures behind her weren’t about to lose her.

  The high boots Jean made fit her perfectly, together with the tight leather pants and tunic. With her chocolate brown hair arranged into a tight bun, Luna figured she is at least going to die pretty if she doesn’t make it away.

  I wonder what these creatures are... the tomb was long abandoned, there were no corpses or signs of anything unnatural. Yet now I’m being chased by four large creatures which smell like demons.

  Suddenly, a clawed hand popped out of the darkness, it aimed at her face. Luna ducked into a spin while breaking. Swift two steps left and a large body swung inches behind her, it crashed into a nearby tree.

  Back to running. Luna jolted forward. These things are clearly not going to let me go easily. What is the stamina of these things anyway? I’ve been running at my top speed for over an hour and they are keeping up.

  Wait, what? Lights!

  What are the lights doing in that direction? Many lights on top of that. Did I lose track of time and made it back to the town already? Damn… that’s bad. These things are too dangerous to let into a city.

  She could smell their unnaturalness; she felt their hunger.

  Luna ran toward the closest house, jumped over the small stone fence, stopped next to a large tree in the garden and spun around it. The fastest of her pursuers didn’t miss it. He broke, spun around and leaped behind the tree.

  The only thing his vicious teeth found was air. His gut, however, found Luna’s blade. The monster gutted itself from the sheer force of the jump as Luna ducked under it. Thick-smelling blood sprayed on Luna and covered her in dark crimson. She licked the blood. It had strange, foul taste.

  Luna launched herself from the shadow of the tree to get behind the second monster. Tall and lanky, with nasty looking claws and teeth in deformed mouth, its large scaly tail held it in balance. The monster didn’t register her as she got behind it. A quick slash with her short sword cut the nape of its neck. It severed the spine. The demon collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

  Air blew out of Luna’s lungs as the next creature hit her from the side. Vicious claws dug deep into her side. They crushed organs and bones alike. She smashed into the tree with a loud thud. The creature roared its victory before it threw itself at her. Luna shoved her left hand into its mouth, taking the bite to her shoulder. She stabbed her blade into its eye. Before she could free her hand, the fourth one was already charging her. She whirled and hid her sword arm. The monster bit her into her body. Massive jagged teeth pierced her armor like it was made of paper. Luna stabbed its skull into the temple. Body of the beast went limp.

  Another ruined tunic, great… Jean’s gonna kill me.

  Luna tried to release herself from the jaws of the demons but wobbled.

  Shit! Poison! Shit!

  She tried to push the monsters off, but their jaws were locked on her tightly.

  I need to run before people get here. I must get away! Shit!

  But the poison has already been draining the last bits of strength from her body. She crumbled to the ground. It all became a blur afterward. Screaming people running around, running toward her, fainting when they saw her. She chuckled at their shock when they found out she was breathing. Then she wanted, really tried to scream when they wrestled her from the jaws and went to take her to their house while sending for a healer.

  No! No! No! Get away from me! She couldn’t speak. All that came from her mouth was incoherent noise.

  Don’t! Please don’t! Throw me into the sewer! Burry me in the garden! No! Don’t take me in! Please…

  She kept fighting with herself the whole time the healer was cleaning her wounds and wrapping her in bandages, bandages soaked with healing ointments. She tried to play dead when they made her drink the healing elixir. They forced it down her throat anyway.

  No! No! Please no! I beg you… don’t! Throw me from the window! Lock me in a cage! Just don’t put me in the bed! Please… I beg you.

  She couldn’t speak. The poison clouded her vision and mind. Luna was sobbing as she fell asleep.

  2

  Arthur

  Commander Arthur Wesley has seen many things in his career in the city guard. Yet he had never seen anything like this. The creatures they had to clean up in the night were bad, really bad. Four large monsters that looked like twisted humanoids. Their stench was horrendous and their bodies still twitched when his men burried them. They didn’t look as badly deformed as most demons did, but they weren’t anything pleasant to look at either. The girl was a sore look at best. Crushed bones, blood and smashed organs leaked out from the wounds. Poor girl. He wondered if she was at least eighteen. It didn’t look like it. The locals thought she was still breathing and insisted on trying to help her. Fool’s hope. Arthur has seen daggers shorter than the teeth of these monsters and the girl had two mouths biting into her. That’s enough wounds to kill five men. Plus the bright green saliva was poison if Arthur had ever seen one.

  What made his stomach turn was the next morning. They called him again to the same house at the edge of the town. The house was silent. Its insides were not pretty. The blood was everywhere, smeared on the walls, spilled over the floor, splashed across the ceiling. The blood on the floor looked like someone tried to clean it. No… like something licked it. There were claw marks on the walls. The marks were deep, very deep. Whatever made them was strong, excessively strong. No sign of the family who lived here or the two men I stationed here last night.

  “We have found someone, sir,” a shout from one of his men disrupted his thoughts.

  “Who?”

  “The girl from last night, sir.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Basement, sir.”

  He rushed there and noticed his men had their weapons out and looked nervous, some even leaned against the wall and they looked like they might collapse any second.

  “What the hell?”

  “You should see for yourself, sir. It is difficult to describe,” answered one of his men, getting visibly pale at the thought.

  Arthur went into the basement, war hammer and shield in his hands.

  The girl from last night was huddled in the corner, she held her knees. Her eyes were red as she was still weeping.
Her skin was pale; her long chocolate hair were flowing freely behind her. Blood covered her clothes.

  “Don’t worry, it’s going to be alright,” said Arthur, he made his best effort at a comforting voice.

  “It’s not,” replied the girl and looked up.

  Arthur froze. As Luna raised her head, he saw blood covered her mouth and neck. A thick layer of blood. Blood fresh enough to still be red.

  “See?” she whispered and started crying again as she huddled up against her knees.

  Arthur understood.

  “What should we do with you?” he whispered. Kill her. That’s what they should do with her, but he had a strong feeling they wouldn’t succeed. Not without more losses on lives, at the very least.

  She was dead last night; she is not dead now. In fact, she looks unharmed. Nothing that heals out of wounds like those will die to our swords.

  “Do you have a cage, commander?” she asked in a weak voice.

  “We do.”

  “Strong cage? “

  “Very strong.”

  “Strong enough to hold a monster like the ones from yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will let you lock me into it if you tell Jean you never saw me,” her voice got cold and steady. This is getting dangerous.

  “Who is Jean?” Arthur pried, curious. That was not a common name and the only Jean he could think of was out of the question.

  “The man who will search for me.”

  “I do not lie,” declared Arthur. It is not that he would have a vow about it, but he disliked it to the core of his being.

  “Then leave.” It sounded awfully lot like a command.

  “I can’t.”

  “Do you have a family, commander?” Luna challenged.

  Before Arthur could reply, he got interrupted by a shout of one of his men followed by a vivid sound of vomiting.

  “I will be back; you stay here.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Luna replied in a mocking voice.

  Arthur left the room and closed the door.

  “Hold the door, do not try to stop her if she tries to escape.”

  His men looked confused, but he didn’t care to explain. Arthur rushed upstairs to where the shout originated. He saw one of his men vomiting at the top of the stairs. Around him, pieces of metal were lying around. No, not just metal, armor. Private Smith's armor. It was torn to shreds. It looked like leftovers of someone peeling an orange. Something tore the armor to get to this man. To eat him. Arthur recomposed himself and continued on the blood trail. He entered a room with a broken door. Inside there was another set of metal scraps from the armor of his second man. Center of the room featured an empty cradle. For the first time in his life, commander Arthur Wesley vomited at a crime scene.