The Legend of Odus - A draft prelude to 'Children of the Storm'

The Legend of Odus - A prelude

By Andrew Bruce Fisk © January 2013


Odus stood alone.

The frost covered the blooded ground, hiding the savage end of his once mighty army. The wind tore at his features. His eyes bled.

For once the warrior lord of the aesira was silent. There was no need for words. It was over.

Yet he knew that something was left undone. The day’s violence had failed to right the wrongs done over the ages past. His enemies still massed out in the darkness beyond his reach.

Presently one of the others approached. The warlord refused to acknowledge the newcomer. This moment of grief was private.

Malmeac watched his father’s weakness with disdain. Wordlessly he offered the cup of victory to the king and then withdrew. The snow swirled white dust into his eyes.

The sword thane retreated from the hill edge leaving Odus exposed to his thoughts. The north wind continued its torment onslaught on the land. An age could pass and he would not notice. After a time he raised the battered warhorn his youngest son had given him to his lips and tasted the blood of his enemy.

The war with the elder race was not over. It had drawn the greatest minds and talents of the aesira people into it’s murderous web. Odus had sworn to end the bloodshed. He had  attempted to make peace with this ancient foe. The pact had ended badly and so the struggle had dragged more young lives into the void. This had been the battle to end all conflicts. The cost had been high. Many thousands of ganthir and the pride of the aesira bled now into the cold earth.

But an ending must come. Powers and forces unheard of prior to this moment in time were at work. Odus saw the shape of the mortal realm as it twisted in pain under the arcane assault. The earth would sustain no more. The fate of his kind and those he had sworn to protect was at stake.

The light of the realmstar dimmed as it descended to the edge of the horizon. It cast out long shadows from the stunted trees and rocky outcrops that marked the position of the lord. He cast his cloak about his body. His armour was tattered and gave no protection from the chill air. His figure cut into the sky. A dark soldier rimmed by fire. His remaining followers were scattered. Only the remnant of his household waited for him. He felt alone.

The krell circled high on currents driven up from the wounded land. Their scales bore the sign of recent combat. Their prey awaited them below but the time was not yet right. Impatiently they beat their wings, uttering obscene words in a language known to few. They hid at the edge of the void ready for violence. One among them wept. She had known a form other than that of the avian lizard kind. She had walked the earth. She had loved and borne children to one of the soft skins. Now imprisoned in a body of scale and claw she was forced to watch while her kin planned murder. Her lover waited below.

The night came and still Lord Odus stood apart from his kinmen. The one known as Icronicer watched his lord with anxiety evident in his young features. Odus was his father. He was eldest son. The greatsword of his ancestors would one day fit into his hands. It was not a day Icronicer would welcome. To one side the sisters waited. They too wanted their father to return to the safety of the camp. Korro was eldest of the two. Her dark hair covered her face. She wore no helm but the scars of battle marked this shieldmaiden deeply. To her side Frengyr stood silent. She was the younger sister. Older than Icronicer but bloodline and inheritance was measured through the male line. That was aesira custom. Korro noticed her brother’s stare. She returned it with a intensity that could have drawn blood. Nearby the ganthir huscarla shuffled their feet. Even they missed their masters presence.

Soft footsteps in the snow brought the young prince back from his woolgathering. His brother had returned.

‘Greatings Malmeac. It is done?’

The other stepped into the torchlight that marked Icronicer’s position. The flickering light cast shadows across the face of the Kings sword bearer. Eyes of glass shone briefly before being concealed once more by a hood of dark wool. The youngster was cold perhaps?

“Brother, you have nothing to fear. I have done my part.’

Icronicer shifted his weight, grasping tight on the tent post beside him. The enormity of this moment drained him of his strength. He covered his weakness. It was not wise to show vulnerability in front of a sibling.

“I will tell the Queen.” He managed after a moment.

“She is not part of this.” Malmeac whispered. His face hidden by the folds of his robe. “But I am sure she would have approved of our, initiative.”

The others listened. Silent in their compliance. Korro looked up into the night sky. Her face unreadable.

“So it is done.” Icronicer spat the words from his mouth.

High above them a cry reached out. A savage call of the wild carried to the camp of the aesira by the wind.

Odus stood alone. He was truly alone this time. Out in the darkness he saw them come. One by one they dropped. diving down to meet him. Intent on rending his battered limbs. He knew help would not come. The poison his son had given him was meant to weaken not kill. He knew his children well. The tears ran free now. He had lived many lifetimes as the younger races knew time. He had fathered many offspring and the true blood of the aesira would run in many veins after he had gone. The war would end.

He saw them approach. Out of the void they swarmed Dozens of full grown krell. Spawn of the elder race sent to do the bidding of their masters. The pact was complete. His life would be given as a peace price. He saw her then. Leading the pack. Regret burned briefly through his mind and then a stillness gripped him. This was the moment. The final act. They came for him then. Piercing an unresisting defence with razor like accuracy.

Odus of the aesira died that night.

The earth split asunder with the force of the event. Fire streaming into the black sky. The others watched the murder happen. Unmoving and unrepentant except for one.

And then the night crowded in. The demons retreated leaving the fields of war. Korro walked forward alone. the wind whispered through the scattered trees and she strained to hear the words. What could they say? A final message from the one she had promised to follow.

She reached the place where her father had stood. She knew she would find no trace of her father. He was gone.

Grief and anger mixed before turning to determination. She looked back at the distant camp where her family waited for news. She smiled. Speaking quietly so the others would not catch the words.

“This is not the end.”