The Legend of Kimberly: Inheritance
She opened her eyes.
The sky was blue, bluer than she had ever seen. White birds flew overhead; so far up she could just barely make out their wings. Shaking away sleepiness, she realized that something furry sat on her chest, something with big ears and fox breath. Sighing, she patted Ip’s head. When she shifted, something cold and heavy dragged her other arm down.
She should have been puzzled, but in the dopey state between waking and dreaming, she just accepted it. No reason to worry about the little things.
A huge head appeared in her field of view. It took her eyes a second to focus on the brooding features, huge nose, and the grin that went from ear to ear.
“She’s awake.” His voice was low and rumbly, like a fat scooter. The cobwebs in her head began to curl up and blow away. More faces appeared now. A beautiful blonde with long hair and crystal-blue eyes came into view. Beside her stood a sickly looking woman with thinning, black hair and pale skin. The last to appear was a man with sad, brown eyes.
“You’re up.” The way he said it made her feel good, like she had been done something well, maybe even worked hard for it. Staring at the strange faces, she struggled hard to say something memorable.
“Yeah.” That was all she had. The strangers helped her sit up, and Ip left her side for the first time in days. Looking around, she saw that she was in the middle of the biggest prairie she had seen in her entire life; it spread out to the horizon in each direction. Pieces of land this untouched were extremely rare on Earth. Her fingers crossed, she turned to the man with sad eyes.
“Am I in Auviarra?”
He nodded. “That’s a rather broad question, but yes, I have heard people use this name.”
Oh wow, she thought. All of her grandfather’s stories had taken place somewhere real, somewhere that actually existed. For years she had dreamt of visiting a place so full of life and color, a place where heroes roamed and did great deeds and mighty challenges were overcome. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore. She could feel the excitement building in her chest and she stood up. How could she put what she was feeling into words?
“I have to pee.” She groaned inwardly. Her mouth was obviously doing its own thing for a bit.
The man nodded and the blonde helped her into the grass. Kimberly had never had to do such a thing outdoors and struggled with the concept. She also wrestled with the fact that Willow had formed some sort of weird bond to her forearm, almost as if it had melted there.
Returning from the deed, introductions were made. The group explained to Kimberly how they had found her in a crater after a lightning storm—after battling something that sounded like her brother Billy-and being chased by lightning spiders. She nodded, unsure how to proceed, but she gave it a shot and was completely honest with them. She told them about Earth, about her grandfather, tearing up at his mention, and she told them about her father’s transformation and the struggle that had brought them here.
“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Trey said, sitting cross-legged in the dirt. “The sword you are holding is known as Willow, The Living Blade. It disappeared some time ago. I’m guessing it brought you here in an attempt to protect Earth from your father.”
Kimberly just nodded. Who was she to argue?
“Well, for the meantime, why don’t you travel with us for a while? We can help you learn the lay of the land, maybe even get you to a populated area, and then…” He spread his arms wide for emphasis. “Whatever.”
Kimberly accepted. She was thrilled at the idea of exploring Auviarra with people who understood it, people who carried their weapons with confidence.
“Let’s start with Willow.” Trey pointed to her arm. “I’m guessing that’s a result of not being able to sheath your weapon.”
“Oh.” She looked at the sword itself. The hilt had sprouted a bunch of tendrils and they wound around her arm creating what looked like a shell. “I don’t have a sheath for it.”
“You and the sword are bonded now. You share an awareness. I’m guessing it clung to you in your fall.” He stood up. “Don’t command it, don’t talk to it. Just do it. Imagine the sword is like another hand, grabbing onto your arm.”
Kimberly looked at it. It would be really awkward to travel like this; not only was it clinging to her at an odd angle, but she’d be unable to use it. She tried to concentrate, yet not concentrate; it was making her head spin. Just as her eyes were starting to cross, she felt something for just a moment.
“It’s okay, it takes time. The magic is part of you now.” Trey reached into his pocket. “Look.” He handed her a small mirror.
Her eyes were no longer gray like her father’s. Instead, they were a dark purple in color. She stared in awe, realizing that a whole new world had opened inside of her.
She handed the mirror back and concentrated again. This time, the tendrils flowed like mercury, running back into Willow’s hilt. The sword was finally free and she held it comfortably in her hand. Strangely enough, Willow felt like it weighed almost nothing. She swung it a few times, only to have another sword cross her path.
“Please be careful with that.” Trey had a stern note in his voice and Kimberly’s heart sank just a little. “You almost hit someone.” He pointed down and Ip pouted up at her.
“Sorry, Ip.” She held out her free arm and the fox jumped up. Holding the fox and the sword, she looked at Trey for guidance.
“It’s likely the little guy will have to walk until we can get you a sheath.”
A memory bubbled up and popped inside her head: Kimberly remembered something from her grandfather’s book. Holding Willow by her side, tendrils blew out and wrapped around her waist like a belt. When she let go of Willow, it encased itself in a strong, durable bark.
“Impressive.” Trey nodded his approval.
Kimberly looked on as the group packed up their little camp. She kept quiet, afraid to be intrusive. Helena took the front, her dark green travel cloak flowing in the breeze. Serra walked in the middle. Trey walked in front of Ronnee, and Kimberly fell in stride beside the big man, who smiled at her constantly.
* * *
The thing that used to be Nathan slept under a rock for two days. After Kimberly had stabbed him, Nathan fell from the sky, flapping his wings furiously. He crashed hard without the benefit of a magic sword or armor to protect his fall. Struggling to rise, blood leaking from his chest, a lightning spider had promptly stepped on him. It had hurt badly; it was everything he could do to rise up and fly away into the night. Upon landing some distance away, a quick look around was all it took to confirm where he was.
Nathan’s being wasn’t complete. When he had merged with the homunculus, a duel of wills had begun, both of them demanding control. Nathan had emerged victorious, establishing his human mind as lord and master, but at a high cost.
Rediscovering his magic may have been a path to power, but falling into another world had been a detour to madness. The other half that had been assimilated was too far gone to establish control. Instead, his mind fought just to make connections, connections he desperately needed.
He found refuge under a rock and slept away from the sun. It was cold, damp, and safe. His sons found him shortly after. Billy, his body having reassembled itself, now stood watch over him. Zane tracked his little sister, reporting back often through his mental bond with his brother.
The transformation was hardest on Zane. When his father had burned them both with his black fire, he had released their true forms; ones that had been programmed into them at birth by the leftover magic still in his blood, magic of an unknown origin. Zane had always been the thinker of the two. Now that he had some time to dwell on the current state of things, he couldn’t help but be angry. While Billy could easily accept remaining stupid, Zane sometimes found himself asking questions about his new existence.
His compulsion to obey his father was something he wondered about a lot. Upon being released, he felt no desire to disobey, even after his dad had crawled unde
r a rock to die. They heard little from him now, only rambling, angry thoughts and diatribes against Zane’s grandfather, a man he had never really known.
Another thing he struggled with was his complete lack of humanity. He was not much more than a mental compilation of magic that threatened to blow away on the next breeze. He was tied, in a way, to the cloak that was now his skin. He could generate limbs like hands and feet, and even make himself look human again. It was a farce. He could no longer feel with his sense of touch, at least not like he had.
Still, the power he had was begging to be tried. The nights he had watched the group of people caring for his sister, he had wanted to simply float among them like a shroud of death. He had started practicing his talents on local wildlife, draining them of their essence and leaving behind dried husks. After doing so, Zane could become more substantial for a time, could move faster, maybe more.
He would never forget that first time. He came upon a rabbit, trying desperately to hide from him in the tall grass. Catching it had been easy; he turned into a mist, his hands encasing the terrified animal. It was warm in his shadowy clutches. He could feel its heartbeat, a beat that began to slow as he siphoned the life away. The light faded from the rabbit’s eyes and fur fell off in chunks. Dropping the dead husk, he marveled at how human his hands had looked once again, at how connected he felt. He wanted nothing more than to drink it all in and watch the land decay beneath him.
He was forced to follow Kimberly, instead. Something about her was important. Even if their dad were to die, Billy and Zane would continue to hunt her.
For now, though, Zane was just to watch.
* * *
Kimberly learned a few important things during her first full day in Auviarra. The first was that writers tend to gloss over long periods of travel. Nobody ever mentioned the long moments of silence and occasional boredom. The second thing was that all of that walking sucked. Her feet were blistered and her legs cramped. The group she travelled with set a fairly fast pace, something she wasn’t used to.
Sometimes she wondered if it should bother her that she didn’t miss Earth in the slightest. She hadn’t had any real friends, she hated her family, and her grandfather, the one person she loved, was gone. Even so, she was now on an entirely different planet and a small part of her felt guilty about leaving Earth behind without a care.
She watched her new companions closely. Serra was the quiet one, always hiding her face from the sun. Helena was cheerful, a spring constantly in her step. Ronnee was always smiling back at Kimberly when she looked at him, a smile that Kimberly couldn’t help returning. Trey was different; he carried sadness on his shoulders.
That first day of walking, they spent a lot of time questioning Kimberly, something that didn’t bother her at all. Once Trey had questioned her sufficiently about her father and brothers, he was content to let the others ask about Earth itself. Describing things such as cars and planes wasn’t so hard, because magic did similar things. Describing something like a computer or television was tough. A significant difference between the two worlds was the apparent lack of leisure time here on Auviarra. Maybe that was because humans weren’t even close to the top of any food chain here. According to Serra, people who sat around all day were easier for monsters to eat.
At the end of that first day, Kimberly’s whole body was sore. She was surprised when Trey pulled her aside from the group. Calling it a necessary precaution, he began demonstrating the proper way to handle a sword, something he thought Kimberly should practice. Having walked all day, she was less than enthusiastic.
They practiced simple defensive moves. They came surprisingly easy to her. When she pointed this out, Trey agreed. Willow’s magic was changing Kimberly, and this change included a natural ability in swordsmanship. However, the years of practice and conditioning to get there were not—meaning she needed to get in shape. She would learn the moves quickly, but her body was not used to parrying a blade, or thrusting through bone, and she would likely hurt herself.
When they finished her first lesson, he sat on a rock and motioned for her to join him. When she did, he turned to her with a sigh.
“I suppose you wonder why I seem to know so much about your blade.”
Kimberly shook her head. It hadn’t occurred to her at all.
“Willow is a legendary blade, forged by the forest goddess as a way of protecting man from complete annihilation. Over the years, your blade has become as legendary as its owners for great deeds.”
“Like Elurra!” Kimberly said with excitement.
“Indeed.” Trey arched an eyebrow.
She’d told them about her grandfather’s books, but hadn’t spent time talking about all of them. After confirming that a couple of them had actually happened, she had left it at that.
“My grandfather’s last book was about a girl named Elurra.”
“I find that very interesting. As far as I know, Elurra was the last person heard of to wield Willow.” Trey scratched at his chin in thought. “Elurra was fairly well known throughout the land in her day. If your grandfather was able to write about her and Willow, it’s very possible she knew him. If they ever spent time together, it’s likely people would know who your grandfather was.”
Kimberly’s eyes grew wide, thinking of the implications. Had her grandfather been a warrior? Not likely. Perhaps a wizard, or even a sage. For now, she could only guess.
“I think our paths were destined to cross, Kimberly.” She realized she had been ignoring him. She watched Trey reach down and draw his own sword, the ugly-looking one.
Freed from its scabbard, the blade itself looked incredibly simple. In her own hands, Willow began to pulse in response. Kimberly watched the air around Trey’s blade shimmer, as if a great heat was being contained.
“I, too, wield a legendary blade. It is very rare for a person to possess one, rarer still for two of them to meet. Usually these meetings result in battle, though you shouldn’t worry about that.” Trey smiled at her. “For instance, Elurra once battled a man known as the Black Knight. He, too, was a wielder of a legendary weapon, a sword with different magic than Willow’s.”
“And she defeated him,” Kimberly added.
Trey nodded. “Now, the Black Knight fought with Elurra and she defeated him soundly. The point is, legends do not often leave room for each other. So I want you to be very aware. Once people hear that Willow is back in the lands, you will be hunted. Sure, it could be for glory. Maybe even for your aid. All I ask is that you keep one thing in mind.”
“What’s that?”
“Never lose yourself.” Trey sheathed his blade. “A decision you make today can come back to haunt you in the future. I made several mistakes in my time, mistakes that people remember far more than my successes. I know a lot about your blade because, at one point, I was where you are now: young and lost. You need a direction, a direction I can help you find if you will let me. I promised myself never to let evil again roam the lands, a promise I made after…” He looked off in the distance and shook his head. “Never lose yourself. Understand?”
She nodded. It was a lot to digest but she understood.
“We should rest. Long day tomorrow.” Trey stood and walked away.
“What’s your sword called?” Kimberly asked, catching up with him.
Trey smirked and looked at her. “If you’re good, someday I’ll tell you.”
Kimberly couldn’t help it; she rolled her eyes at him.
* * *
As they approached the camp and bedded down for the evening, Trey watched Kimberly. He hoped she had been paying attention. She reminded him so much of his own daughter, Amberleigh. He couldn’t help but worry about what was coming next for the girl. Years from now, he hoped that Kimberly wouldn’t see the same amount of blood on her own hands that he saw when he looked at his own. Not the blood of those who would hurt others, but the blood of the ones he had sworn to protect. The ones he had slaughtered with his own sword. r />
Trey heard Kimberly laugh, a sound that helped to ease his mood. She was deeply engrossed in telling Ronnee a thing called a knock-knock joke. Trey heard Ronnee giggle in approval, a sound that reminded Trey of a goat. He smiled.
He could only guide her so much. She would have to learn the most important lessons on her own.
His blade pulsed at his hip. He ignored it.
White Cloaks
The little town of Bensin was built along the edge of the Garezabeth Plains. It was considered by many to be the last testament to civilization before entering the endless fields. Merchants often gathered there to form great caravans before making the long trek across the plains; this meant the city was stuffed full of gold, horses, and warriors.
To Kimberly, the town was just a loose collection of shabby buildings, much like a rundown trailer park. Walking down the main road into town, she could smell smoked meat and the occasional whiff of dirty horse on the breeze. Grit kept blowing into her mouth, teaching her to keep it closed.
Ip, cradled in Kimberly’s arms, was looking around with wide eyes and a twitchy nose. Kimberly could only imagine how many different things he could smell.
A sharp, clanging noise caught her attention. Kimberly watched a large man covered in soot and sweat banging on a piece of metal, fresh from the forge. With each clang of his giant hammer, she could see the edge of the red-hot metal take shape. The man pounded it a few more times and held something up that looked like a blade, perhaps for a shortsword. Satisfied, he dunked it in a barrel of water. The water hissed and steam rose into the air.
“Be less obvious,” Helena muttered. Kimberly looked forward, seeing that she had fallen behind. She had been warned about standing out.
Looking at the others, she couldn’t help but grin. Trey walked alongside Serra, his stride casual. Serra’s head was covered in a low cowl, her pale skin making her look sickly. To somebody watching the group, it was hard to choose between staring at the giant, the cloaked stranger, or the beautiful Helena. She doubted they could be anything but obvious.
They stopped in front of an inn with a hammer and shield on the sign. The words had long since faded away, but there was no mistaking the building’s use.