What are legends?
A little girl screamed.
Smoke curled through the air like a living thing, thick, restless. The stench of burning straw and scorched iron clung to every breath, sharp enough to sting the eyes. Farm animals shrieked in panic, hooves and claws pounding the ground.
A family stumbled through the mud. The father shielded his wife and daughter from the advancing fire as they fled.
Then came the roar, deep, hollow, unnatural, rolling across the hills like a warning torn from the throat of a nightmare.
The man searched desperately for a path to safety, but the heat-fog and screaming villagers blurred everything into chaos. Barefoot and wild with fear, people surged past them in every direction.
Flames rose before them like a wall. Overhead, a grain tower, half-charred and groaning, began to tip.
There was nowhere left to run.
The girl clung to her father's tunic, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around them both, holding tight as the tower collapsed toward them.
Legends are not chosen,...
A flash of blinding silver light erupts.
The fire does not touch them and the grain tower crashes down, hitting something hard that stands between them.
As the father looks up he sees a man with a hat, tall, and broad-shouldered with a rugged cape of dragon hide. Holding a massive shield that glows against the falling wreckage, its light holding firm as the fire curls harmlessly around its edge.
As the mysterious man turns to see them, his face is reveled.
A scar slices from his temple to the edge of his jaw. His eyes burn with exhaustion. His leather armor was worn, clearly weathered by countless battles.
The man gives a faint smiles and holds his hand to the family, as light of hope shimmers on the father's eye.
...They are forged.
A wall of flame surged, and was split.
A torrent of water slammed down, hissing across the fire. Steam exploded into the air as the ground turned to mud.
A young Eldian woman stood at the center, drenched in sweat and ash, arms outstretched. Her long blue robes snapped in the wind, soaked and scorched. Ether glowed at her fingertips, pulsing with every movement.
Across the street, a feathery Nyx blurred past, wiry and fast, his talons crackling with electricity as he darted through debris. He scooped up two children in a streak of motion, shielding them as sparks danced across his back.
Above them, a falcon screamed.
It dove, wings slicing the smoke. Claws extended. It seized a panicked toddler from collapsing rubble, then shifted midair.
Feathers became flesh as wings folded into arms.
She landed hard in the dirt, shifting into a small Fwlling girl mid-roll. She cradled the child gently, then shoved them toward cover.
Legends do not wait for fate…
The ground shook.
Screams tore through the smoke as a monstrous roar split the sky.
From the blaze burst a beast, lion-like but doubled in size, massive and void-black, with curved horns like blades. Tendrils whipped from its back, lashing at stone and flesh alike. Its claws tore into the earth with every step. Its eyes burned red, glowing like coals beneath the skin.
It lunged toward a group of fleeing villagers.
Before it reached them, a Turoc warrior stepped in.
Towering. Broad with a mighty axe in hand.
He slammed into the creature with a thunderous crack, steel meeting horn, sparks scattering into flame.
The beast snarled, drooling smoke, pressing against him. The two locked, muscles straining, shadows writhing between them.
...They act in spite of it.
The man with the scar shouted over the roar, "Grock! Push it away from the village!"
The Turoc, straining under the beast's weight, growled back, "What the hell do you think I'm trying to do?!"
The creature surged with a powerful scream.
Grock was thrown into the air, his body slamming into a stone silo near the scarred man. The structure cracked, groaned, and began to tip.
He looked up, just to glimpse debris falling on him, too fast, too late block.
In a blur of feathers, a falcon darted past his shoulder. Midair, it twisted, shifting into the small Fwlling girl.
She hit the ground hard with both palms slamming into the dirt. Green sparks erupted from her fingertips.
Roots burst from the earth like awakened serpents, coiling upward and catching the falling debri just before impact.
"Thanks," the man muttered, breathless. "Right on time."
"Got you, gramps," she grinned, tossing a quick thumbs up.
Legends bleed,...
The beast turned again, this time toward another cluster of villagers scrambling through burning mud.
The scarred man moved fast, intercepting with steel drawn.
A claw slashed out.
But he met it with his blade, sparks exploded as metal collided with unnatural flesh. But the beast's strike tore across his forearm, slicing deep.
Blood hit the ground as he briefly staggered, jaw clenching, and eyes burning with resolve.
...And yet, they rise.
The man growled low. Then with a twist of his wrist, his blade shifted, condensing into a gleaming shield of Etherlight.
He lunged forward, slamming into the beast, driving it back from the fleeing villagers.
Beside him, the Eldian woman surged into view, robes flowing with elemental grace. She swept her hands wide, releasing ribbons of water and shards of ice that sliced through fire and shadow.
Above her, the feathered Nyx dove with lightning crackling across his talons. His daggers flashing in perfect rhythm with his assault.
With a roar, the Nyx drove a surge of electricity straight toward the beast's chest, while the Eldian woman, shot a spear of ice, both in a synchronized performance like a storm given form.
But the creature moved faster.
A tendril from its back whipped out, striking with brutal speed at them.
The Nyx was hurled through smoke and dirt, landing hard in a gasping heap.
But the Eldian woman slammed into a scorched wall, going unconscious.
Legends do not seek reward…
The Feathered Nyx crawled towards the Eldian woman through ash and mud, blood streaking down his feathers while panic overtook him.
As he reached her side, he lifted her head gently .
"Hey…" he whispered, lightly shaking her shoulder "Ellowyn. Wake up…"
But no response.
Before he could speak again, a blur of amber fur tore through the smoke. a fox darted past burning debris, leaping mid-stride shifting midair into the Fwlling girl.
She landed hard beside them, Her eyes darted between Ellowyn, the wounded Nyx, and the scarred man still holding the line with his shield buckled beneath the beast's relentless strikes, but he didn't fall.
..They pay the price without counting the cost.
"TOFF!" he roared, not turning. "GET THEM OUT OF HERE!"
"But what about—" she gasped, voice cracking.
"NOW!"
She froze, eyes flicking back to him, then clenched her jaw and nodded.
Without a word, she shifted again, this time into a hulking badger-like beast with thick fur, and powerful limbs.
With surprising grace, she lifted the Nyx onto her back and cradled Ellowyn in her forelimbs.
Then without looking back Toff ran, vanishing into the smoke.
He watches just long enough to see them vanish into the haze.
A dry chuckle escapes him, breathless.
"Heh... why do I always end up in these messes?"
Then he roars.
Ether sparkles gathered toward his shield as it expands, tripling in size like a radiant wall of golden light. His arms shake, muscles drawn taut with strain. With a defiant cry, he drives forward, lifting the beast off its feet and hurling it sideways with the last of his strength.
The creature crashes through a half-collapsed house, its massive body twisting as tendrils lash wildly, scattering flame and stone.
And then he hears it.
A scream, sharp, high, fragile, cutting through the roar of fire from deep within the ruin.
…A child.
He freezes. Breath locks in his throat as something inside him twists. Memories surge like a wave of ash.
For a moment, he is no longer here. Not in this burning village.
He's back. Back where the screams sounded the same.
The smoke thickens. The weight of it coils through his lungs, clawing at his breath. His vision blurs as the house ahead glows hotter, bleeding red through the smoke, already breaking under its own heat.
Its beams groan, the frame straining like a beast on the verge of death.
He shouts "No... dammit! Not again!" his teeth clenched.
He breaks into a run, charging toward the collapsing structure as the cries behind him fade. Inside, the world becomes a haze of burning orange and writhing shadow. The heat presses in like the breath of a dragon.
Then, beneath it all, he hears it.
Faintly, warped by smoke and memory.
…A lullaby.
The same melody she used to hum.
Before the fire. Before the shadows. Before everything fell apart.
"Why that damn song...?" he mutters, his voice trembling. "Why now?"
Legends are not spared,...
The structure above him groans, then gives way with a thunderous crack.
Edran throws himself forward, desperate to reach the child before the place collapses. But he's too slow.
Wood and stone shatter around him while fire rushes in.
A massive beam crashes down across his back, slamming him to the ground. Agony flares through his spine. He tries to move, but his limbs won't answer.
The weight pins him as his breath shortens. Each gasp comes thinner than the last.
Somewhere beyond the smoke, voices begin to break through.
"Edran! Edran, come out!"
Another closer, panicked yells, "EDRAN!"
Footsteps pound against the scorched earth. A scream. Then a third voice, near and shaking:
"Quick, help me with the beams, he's under here somewhere!"
He coughs, hard. Blood flecks his lips as smoke coils tighter around him, choking out what breath remains.
Through the haze, he mutters, "Dammit... I knew it. Should've stayed in my chair."
His gaze drifts, first to his hat beside him, then forward.
His sword lies just beyond his reach, its surface catching the firelight. The name carved into the hilt still burns in his mind, a name heavier than any shadow.
A bitter grin tugs at his mouth muttering
"I should be finishing my brew right about now... not chasing ghosts."
The lullaby returns once more as if calling for him. Twisting through the flames like a memory that refuses to die.
His vision swims. The edges blur. Darkness creeps in.
But the voices remain, calling his name faintly but stubborn.
"Edran... Edran..."
His eyes close.
All goes dark.
...They fall, not to be remembered... but so others can rise.