The Legend of Lumus Avatar

Half of the moon shone through the leaves of the tall deciduous trees that comprised the thick woods of the eastern Realm. Two pairs of eyes reflected its light as they peered down from an upper branch of a tree at the edge of a small clearing. The building within the clearing was only one story and was apparently made from the wood of the forest. Beside the house, there was a stall for a horse and a recently-dug well. Muffled by the timber, voices drifted from the shoddy lodging; one loud, gruff voice seeming to preach while no fewer than three others rang out agreement.
“The cursed anathemas are indeed gathered in this place.” One of the pairs of eyes rose to stand on the branch while the other remained crouched and shrouded. The moonlight fell upon the face of the standing man and glistened on the sweat of anticipation which trickled in the ruts of old scars. His dark eyes showed an eerie brown as the light filled the wide irises, and his hair hung down in meandering ravines, an ever darker brown, around his face and ears. His gaze seemed to penetrate the hovel and pierce straight into his prey within. A slight grin caused the side of his mouth to rise almost imperceptibly.
“Stay low, Trevor. We cannot let the enemy realize our presence yet,” warned the shrouded man. An arm wrapped in a green cloak broke free of the tree’s shadow and tugged the standing man back to a crouch. Pelheps Trevor was a young ward of the Dragon-Blooded Legion. This night marked his fifth hunt with the man next to him, a veteran of the hunt named Cathak Drexel. He was himself an exalted Dragon-Blooded warrior; Trevor, however, still waited to be exalted by the lords of the Dragon-Bloods, The Immaculate Dragons. He enjoyed bringing the enemies of the Dragon-Blooded to justice—cold, motionless justice. Each kill brought him closer to joining the ranks of his masters, to becoming equal to them. He was already a skilled stealth-killer and these anathema hunts, Wyld Hunts as they were called, only made him better at it.
Trevor and Drexel melted into the shadows and in the blink of an eye were listening below one of the portholes of the house. So silent were they in their movement that they did not disturb even the local fauna from their sleep. The ever-watchful owl, himself, was surprised by their sudden appearance. By light of moon, the two warriors made ready their weapons and waited for the right time to infiltrate. Trevor carried two short swords, little longer than the average dagger; each was covered tang to tip in elaborately curling designs that gave the illusion of flowing as the blades moved. His strikes were as water and cut his victims in a manner that would evoke awe just before bone-chilling fear. Drexel wielded a single long sword modeled in the style of the Japanese katana. Its hilt was dyed red hide wrapped in soft black cloth. The suba was an ornate gold, decorated with carvings of rose petals and the blade was long, sleek and drawn into a menacing curve. The steel of the blade was dark, almost blue toward the cutting edge, and had streaks of red burned into it signifying the blood it thirsted for. Together with their weapons, these two men were among the deadliest assassins in the Dragon-Blood army, if not the entire Realm.
Inside the house, the anathema continued to speak loudly. Their leader, identified by Drexel as Louis Crowsbeak—an active opponent to the teachings of the Dragon-Blooded, stood at the head of the room in front of one of the portholes so that he was backlit by the candle burning on its sill. He was a large man with light brown hair and a curly beard that covered the top buttons of his mauve tunic. He swung his thick arms wildly through the air as he spoke energetically, even angrily, about casting aside the laws set forth by the Dragon-Blood lords and to take up belief in some of the more free-roaming gods of the region. He encouraged his brethren to take up any belief other than that of the Dragon-Blooded and demanded that they spread this radical idea to as many other people as they could. Of all the deities he placed so high above the Immaculate Dragons, none seemed so revered by him as the Unconquered Sun.
Trevor found himself listening to the man’s soliloquy and almost missed Drexel’s signal to move in. He snapped to his senses and nodded to Drexel as he began to quietly climb the side of the house. Drexel moved to the window directly behind the animated speaker, peering in from the side so that the candle light streaked his face showing only his dark, serious eyes and pursed lips. Creases adorned the corners of his eyes revealing years of wisdom and experience, and his brow was strong and high and now furled in concentration. Drexel watched Louis and his cohorts intently, waiting for that tingle; the special sensation of battle that tells a warrior the exact second to strike.
Louis was his story, swaying and swinging his arms to emphasize himself. He was now shouting at his listeners the evils of the Dragon-Blooded and the ways in which they destroy life and defile Creation. He teetered back on his heel as one of his more magnificent gestures through him off balance. He fell toward the window outside of which Drexel waited.
The tingle—Drexel felt it ring down his spine and into his arms. His eyes widened as he shouted “Now!!” Drexel reached both arms through the window, sending the candle skidding across the floor and under the table. Louis, still lurching backwards, fell perfectly into the open arms and found himself in an inescapable chokehold. The others in the room rose to their feet and drew weapons from their cloaks. They began to charge at Louis and his captor when, suddenly, the roof caved in on them and Trevor stood on the table before them. Two more candles fell from their sills and joined the first on the floor among the debris from the destroyed roof, their flames licking the tinder-like thatching.
Three men stood, wide-eyed and frozen in fear as they stared at the blue-cloaked man that rose from their table. Blades materialized from beneath the cloak and danced in the rising flames of the burning roof debris. He reversed the blades in his hands and crossed them before his face as he spoke in the darkest tone he could muster. “This is the end for you, heathen anathema. Know, now, the true power of the Dragon-Blooded!”
He leapt toward the exposed night sky showing through the missing roof and somersaulted over the heads of the bewildered blasphemers. Trevor landed behind them with his back to theirs as two of the three fell and blood dripped from the tips of his blades. The man at the center of the formation slowly turned and continued to gape at Trevor, backing away, avoiding the bodies of his fallen comrades. Blood trickled from long slits beginning in the nape of the neck and running down the backs of the two prone figures. The retreating man whimpered and dropped his weapon. Trevor turned to menace his prey; he entered a low attack stance and began to move the daggers around his body. In the light of the now blazing building, the blades flashed in and out of existence about him forming a fluctuating, lethal barrier between Trevor and the terrified anathema. The man howled and turned to run away, but it was too late. His hand hit the door at the same time his head hit the floor.
Beyond the flames, Drexel grappled with a vigorously struggling Louis Crowsbeak. Drexel was a strong and experienced assassin, but he had not been fully prepared for the shear strength of his prey. Louis heaved and swung his fists wildly trying to free himself from the strangling grasp of his captor. The flames lit their faces a brilliant orange and sparks floated all around them giving the whole scene a surreal feeling. A foe like this would normally have presented no trouble to Drexel, but his plan to use the window as stealth was now working against him as it gave his prey leverage against his grip. Louis pressed on the wall with one foot and kicked himself forward with such force that he pulled Drexel straight through the wall. A quick swing of his broad shoulders flung Drexel through the burning roof thatching, landing him on his back at Trevor’s feet. Louis fell to one knee and massaged his throat with his large palms.
Trevor helped Drexel to his feet and together they glared across the burning room at their target. Their quarry was strong, but he was wearing down. Drexel drew his katana and Trevor lowered himself into his classic attack stance. Louis looked sideways at them with one eye half closed in a wince. Trevor’s eyes carefully studied Louis in his crippled-looking state; then flashed over to Drexel who gave a quick nod.
Simultaneously, the two warriors charged through the flames, embers clinging to, then dripping from their cloaks. They both approached in a head-on assault, and Louis rose to meet their blades. At the instant before they would be within conversational distance, Trevor and Drexel broke to flank him, spinning around to face his sides. Louis followed Drexel until he realized Trevor wasn’t with him, then whipped his head so fast, trying to find him, that it caused his neck to hurt again. Before Louis could decide who he was going to punch first, a cold wind blew through his being. He stumbled forward, mouth agape, as he felt the blades withdrawing from his flesh. Louis lurched from his left foot to his right, sweat beading on his face as he moved toward the flames in the middle of the room. He fell to his knees midway between the Dragon-Blood warriors and the burning table, staring into the infinite cosmos visible through the burning hole formerly known as his roof. Trevor stepped toward him, preparing to make the final blow. As he approached, he could see tears in Louis’ eyes; Louis was mouthing something to the heavens. Trevor stopped and strained to hear his words.
Louis’ whisperings were barely audible over the cracking and groaning of the burning timber. Embers swirled before his lips and his eyes began to glaze. Trevor leaned ever closer, ready to strike down the anathema at any moment, trying to hear what he was saying. “The Dragon-Blooded know not what they do, nor whom they shall serve. Oh, Unconquered Sun, revive the Solars and save creation from their vile designs. This sect of the Illuminated falls with me, but we are not defeated…” Trevor’s vision shuddered for a moment as these words swam in his head; he lost his balance but caught himself on Louis’ shoulder. Louis slowly turned his head to look at Trevor, his eyes were now devoid of pupils and shining a brilliant gold, glowing in the pale moonlight. “Awaken, Lumus Avatar! Know yourself and your true Lord. I, the Unconquered Sun, restore you to your rightful place as a defender of Creation.” Trevor yelped in surprise and threw himself from Louis’ side. He slid his back against the wall of the house and looked to Drexel, but Drexel was gone.
Trevor stood and scanned the house. All the fires were out, there was no sound, not even wind or the owls. He was alone. The corpses of the four men were missing; even Louis Crowsbeak’s body had vanished before Trevor’s eyes. He looked up at the moon, which had mysteriously become full, and a black spot appeared at its center. At its full phase, the moon spilled a yellow light on Trevor’s face as the black spot grew and consumed the night’s sun. Seconds later, all that remained of the moon was a glowing golden ring surrounding infinite nothingness. Trevor shuddered again at the sight. He averted his eyes from the unnatural event. He became aware of a new presence in the room; he focused his eyes and before him stood a warrior equal to him in stature clad in a blue cloak, not unlike his own. Beneath the cloak, golden trim around the edge of a large metal breastplate glimmered in the strange moonlight and at the warrior’s sides he clutched two massive swords which shimmered with the same gold of his armor. On the man’s forehead blazed a golden ring that perfectly resembled the moon in its current state. Trevor could do nothing but stare at the figure who was now giving a half smile. The man’s lips moved and Trevor heard the words as though they had been spoken directly into his soul, “Remember the Night! Embrace it.”
Trevor blinked at the man, but when he opened his eyes again, the room was ablaze and Louis Crowsbeak lay on the floor beside him, dead. He turned to find Drexel gazing at him quizzically. Trevor stood up and turned to face Drexel. “Did something just happen to the moon?” Trevor’s question seemed to trouble Drexel. “What are ya talkin’ about, boy? What’s the moon got to do with anything,” Drexel asked incredulously. “We’ve accomplished our mission; this Hunt’s over. We must go now and report to the Lord of the Realm. We’ve just slain one of his greatest opponents; I would be surprised if he didn’ make you a brother straight away!” Drexel laughed and gave Trevor a congratulatory expression. Trevor gave a half-hearted smile, his mind was troubled by what he had seen—or thought he had seen. It had all seemed so real, well—except for the glowing eyes and the moon blotting out like that… Trevor pondered silently as he and Drexel made for the Imperial City at the heart of the Realm. They ran briskly through the forest, dodging among the trees for sport. Trevor watched Drexel as he slipped almost ghost-like through the forest beside him. They split to either side of a large tree but when they came around the far side to reconvene, Drexel did not appear. Astounded at the feat Trevor stopped dead in his tracks and cast his eyes around the area.
Gone? How can he just be gone?? Trevor brought his hand to his mouth and was about to call out to Drexel when the sky caught his eye. High above him, the moon had again taken on the form of a golden ring. He whirled about and came face to face with the glowing warrior from before. “Where are you going,” the warrior asked. “Do you not understand that the Dragon-blooded will kill you if they discover what you are?” Trevor was shocked by this statement. “Why would my masters kill one of their own,” he demanded. “Their own? My dear boy, you are no Dragon-Blood. You are one destined to rule over Creation; not to conquer or destroy as the Dragon-Blooded plan to do, but to protect it and make it flourish!” Trevor prepared to speak again, but the warrior vanished as the bough of a tree blew across the moon. “Who’re ya talkin’ to, lad? You’re beginning ta worry me,” Drexel stood with his hand upon Trevor’s shoulder, both of them alone in the dark forest. “It’s…it’s nothing,” Trevor lied.
It was night again when Trevor and Drexel reached the city; Drexel recommended they get some sleep and regroup in the morning to speak with the Lord of the Realm. Trevor returned to his home, bathed and fell upon his bed, completely exhausted by his experiences of the last week. He fell instantly asleep, but did not remain so. He woke more than a few times as rest was shattered, repeatedly, by flashes of images of armor and weapons of unknown materials, faces he did not recognize but which felt familiar and agonizing scenes of Dragon-blooded armies invading and razing villages he’d never visited. By morning, he was too terrified to shut his eyes again. The dreams felt so real and the images so fresh that in his heart he knew he must be seeing reality. The Dragon-blooded slew innocents and burned cities without discretion simply to assert their own power and authority. Everything I’ve been fighting for, for the last few years—everything I’ve believed in my whole life…it’s all been a fabrication. The Dragon-blooded are not the bringers of the truth, they are not the masters of Creation… they’re not even human. Trevor could not believe his own thoughts. And…I’m in danger now… Suddenly, he knew. Trevor knew he had to get as far away from the Realm as possible. All the Hunts he’d been on, and others that were being conducted, were for the soul purpose of rooting out the enemies of the Dragon-blooded and making their rule undeniable. His contacts among the houses of lords had also recently carried rumors of the Dragon-blooded ranks brewing distrust among themselves. There was a potential civil war among the Dragon-blooded on the horizon and that would mean they would be recalling all of their forces to the Imperial City. Trevor now sat on ground zero, and he would not survive if he stayed.
That day, Trevor did not meet with Drexel, he did not speak with the Lord of the Realm, he did not so much as make eye contact with a dragon-blooded. He went straight to the docks using every back alley he knew. His deep blue cloak billowed in his wake as he sped along the flagstones toward the wharf. On the way, he stopped in random taverns and inquired about the currently docked ships and their next destinations and proposed departure times. The most promising was a chartered ship bound for the distant western island of Onyx in the Skullstone Archipelago. He made the instant decision that would be the ship he took. He was almost in sight of the docks when a pain in his head caused him to nearly collapse. He ducked into the nearest empty alley and drew water from a barrel at the back of a shop. As he brought his cupped hands to his mouth he noticed a golden glimmer on the water’s rippling surface. Trevor grasped the edge of the barrel and peered down into it, at his own reflection. Brown eyes, straggly long brown hair, two scars adorned his right cheek and a single slit passed down over his left eye and a golden ring conformed to his forehead, glowing through his hair for all to see. He began to sweat and tried focusing to will the mark to go away. As he stood in the alley focusing on the reflection in the bucket, a serpent began to materialize at his feet.
Just a spine at first, then muscles covered the rapidly growing bones, followed by green and gold scales. After only a minute, Trevor was wrapped head-to-toe in the coils of a Chinese dragon. It had two claws which it held under its jaw and a red mane under its great, curved horns. A large mouth filled with razor sharp teeth underlined its brilliant red eyes. The dragon peered into the barrel and examined its face then the face of its master. The movement in the reflection caused Trevor to lose his concentration on the mark and stare at the face of the dragon in the barrel. “YEAHHH-HAAHHH!!!” Trevor shouted and jumped away from the barrel and the dragon; escaping the coils of serpent by passing straight through them. The dragon cocked its head to one side and gazed at Trevor’s terrified expression. At that moment, Trevor heard the warrior’s voice in his soul again and his expression almost instantly faded to neutral once more. He had given in to the words of the ghostly warrior and was beginning to understand his true destiny. It was as though he instantly knew everything; the volume of knowledge he inherited through the warrior in his soul was almost overwhelming. “So then, you must be my Anima,” Trevor said to the Dragon, who did not reply but simply shifted its head back to the normal position. The mark on Trevor’s forehead slowly faded away until there was no trace of it at all. “If that’s the case, then I really am a…Solar. All the legends were true and the Dragon-blooded were wrong. How fitting it seems, that I should fight against them with the very beast they’ve made their patron spirit.” Trevor laughed to himself, quietly. He shook off the thought and regained his composure; this place was not safe, it was imperative that he make for Onyx at once.
Trevor boarded a medium-sized vessel on dock number Nine of the Imperial Jetty. It was not a new ship, but it felt sturdy. Already aboard was the captain’s crew of 8 sailors, 10 men in the same uniform—definitely a military detachment of some sort—and a man wearing a dark robe over a lamellar which had gold trim in the chest plate and among the fibers of the tabard. A bulge in the lamellar indicated he was carrying something large, but whether it was a weapon or just a big sack of money Trevor could not determine. This would be his home for the next month or so, he did not think it wise to make enemies before leaving port. Trevor took up a seat on the bench in the far stern corner of the ships large inner deck. He crossed his leg and began contemplating everything he had learned from the warrior. Where to begin, he thought. How about…My name is Lumus Avatar.

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This is the Introductory chapter to my story of the Exaltation of Lumus Avatar.
If you like the story, TELL ME, and then I will post more. I have a lot written already but am eager to write more of it and sharing it with people who like it makes me happy. So if you like it, TELL ME!!