Rise of the Legion Read online

  She couldn’t help but feel defensive about the life she had chosen for herself, and about the life that Adeline was living. There was no describing to Thoren what she now thought of the Legion, how she felt personally wronged by them. Cori had made a new life for herself and found it preferable, but she was certain there was nothing she could say to make Thoren understand that. “I’m actually making a living for myself. Standing on my own two feet, which is more than I can say for you.”

  Thoren drew his eyebrows together, looking frustrated. “You’re… you were meant to do more than this.”

  She used to think so too, and that only made Cori feel more frustrated.

  “I was meant for nothing more than what I want it to be. And this is what I choose. You can go back and tell your father that.”

  Thoren breathed out slowly, as though trying to summon patience. Cori found herself enjoying seeing him get all riled up, helping to ease some of the tension beginning to lock up around her shoulders. She allowed the corner of her mouth to tilt upwards at him, which only made Thoren narrow his eyes further at her.

  “You used to be one of us. As far as my father is concerned, you still are. If you have any loyalty left, you will not do my father this dishonour. You will answer the summons.”

  That slight smile slipped right off her face, and all of a sudden, Cori wanted to lose her temper. She envisioned herself hurling the table that she was currently sitting so calmly in front of and get right in his face to scream all kinds of nasty words at him. Instead, with measured control, she said in the lowest voice she could manage, “loyalty… don’t you dare talk to me about loyalty. My father was the most loyal of all and look what happened to him! Don’t you—”

  Cori cut herself off, and slumped backwards in her seat, averting her eyes. A heaviness had settled inside her chest, and she was unsure she could speak again without humiliating herself in front of her former friend and colleague.

  Thoren was quiet for a moment, before he spoke in an equally low voice. “You left so suddenly that day. You never gave me the chance to explain things or talk to you about what happened. I wanted to say so many things. And… I’m sorry about your-”

  “I don’t want your sympathy,” Cori snapped at him, feeling the control over her temper quickly withering and dying.

  Thoren’s jaw clenched tight, and he just watched her for a moment. “Fine. Then you will take this summons and be done with it.” He picked up the parchment and threw it her way, also tossing a copper coin on top of it for his drink and rose to leave. Cori thought he would go without another word, but he stopped and turned back to her, placing both hands on the table to brace himself as he towered over her still sitting in the booth. “You’re not who I remember. That’s what I’m most sorry about.”

  Cori watched silently as he stalked out of the bar.

  2

  Thoren walked out of the bar onto the dusty cobble-stoned streets, gulping down the sea-stained air like he hadn’t breathed the entire time he was with her. Corisande.

  He hadn’t seen Cori since… well, it had been a long while. Seeing her wiping that table, an easy grin on her face as she joked with the black-haired girl, had rocked him to his core. That smile she’d worn had disappeared as soon as she had seen him, and that had, well, sucked. He didn’t expect a warm welcome, but he hadn’t expected it to be quite that heated, either.

  Thoren had only been two years old when Cori was born into the Legion as a legacy. Both Thoren’s and Cori’s parents were Legionnaires, and so together, they had grown up in the Everton Compound. She didn’t need any encouragement to apply when she turned thirteen - she had been impatiently waiting for it her whole life. Even after the magic and the Gods had left Holmfirth, the Legion remained, and to the people across the lands, they now looked to them as leaders and protectors, because the Gods certainly weren’t going to help them anymore.

  Thoren had been young, too young to remember when the magic had left them. But the way he looked at it, and the way Cori had used to look at it, was that the Legion was the last kind of magic still left in the world. It was a family of people who believed in something, in the good in the world.

  Thoren was a legacy himself, his father and mother had been part of the Legion for many years before he was born. Thoren had applied at thirteen and had started his training two years before Cori, and that time had been spent together in quiet, empty areas secretly training together. He would teach her everything he was learning, and she would swallow it up like it was the air she was breathing. By the time she was old enough to apply, Cori had been the best of all the initiates and was marked as an official Legionnaire when she turned eighteen, proudly wearing the tattoo. Thoren was right there with her and the other Legionnaires, feeling as though there was no better calling in the world than to protect the people of Holmfirth.

  Thoren had always joked with Cori, telling her she would become one of the elite warriors, a member of the Legion Five. It was something they had all wanted: to become a Legionnaire and hope that one day, they would be deemed worthy to become one of the Five. It had been a joke, something he had liked to banter with her about, but he had felt that it was the truth. She had a natural talent as a Legionnaire, the best of all of them, even Thoren, who had two years of experience and training on her.

  Yet, she had left them only a year after her branding. Immediately after… everything happened.

  Now she was twenty-one, and he twenty-three, and it looked like she would never have the opportunity to ascend to such a rank. Cori wasn’t even in the Legion anymore. Thoren never could have imagined this would be how they would’ve ended up if they had discussed it two years ago, yet here they were. Exchanging snide comments at each other in the East Markets of Everton, and in a bar called the Weary Fairy for Gods’ sake.

  Thoren shook his head and leaned against the railing at the end of the cobbled path, looking out at the sea. He watched the few ships in the harbour slowly sail in and out of the bay for a moment to clear his mind. His eyes wandered over the signboard next to him, his gaze immediately drawn to a large poster there stating “MAGIC IS NOT LOST. INFORMATION ABOUT DIVINERS IS TO BE REPORTED IMMEDIATELY.” Thoren shook his head at the words. These posters had been showing up all over Everton these past few months. People thought it was the Legion, but he knew that it was the Faction. A band of fanatics who believed Diviners were still among them. It was all a farce, there was no magic anymore.

  He turned his gaze back to the ocean, his thoughts returning to the blonde girl he had grown up with.

  Thoren hadn’t kept track of Cori over the past two years, not exactly, but he had known she’d been spotted in the East Markets on a few occasions by patrols. So, earlier that morning, when his father had come to him with a missive to be brought to this location, he had known exactly who it would be for without needing to ask. Thoren had left immediately, fuelled with a purpose to finally see her again, to speak with her again.

  Thoren sighed deeply.

  Standing on the streets, outside the bar where she now worked, he had a hard time with the two different Cori’s. The one he used to know, and the one he had just encountered. He found himself desperately wanting to know this new Cori, who had seemed to change so completely.

  Thoren stood and watched the sea, letting his mind wander.

  He heard her coming long before she was standing next to him.

  Thoren knew it wasn’t Cori by the indiscreet shuffling sound of her steps, so he kept his gaze locked forwards while the black-haired girl who had served him leaned on the railing beside him and turned her head in his direction.

  “She was in the Legion, that’s it right?” the girl said. Ade, Cori had called her.

  Thoren felt his shoulders turn rigid. He didn’t bother to look at her before saying in a bored tone, “who?”

  Ade sighed and turned, leaning her back against the railing, elbows resting easily on the sea-spray dampened wood. “Please. We almost never have the Legion
coming into our bar, and Cori always wears this fabric thing around her left wrist where the tattoo would be. She once told me it’s because she has a scar there, but I always wondered…”

  Thoren clenched his jaw and turned his head towards her. She was watching him carefully, as though trying to measure how much of a threat he was. He had the distinct impression this girl would never betray her friend. So, he said, “you never turned her in?”

  Nobody was permitted to leave the Legion unless they were dead or dishonourably de-branded. Cori had done neither, she was the only person in recent history to leave the Legion of her own accord without repercussion. His own mother had once chosen to leave, but she had paid the price.

  “I would rather fall into the vat of scalding porridge that Maud makes for breakfast every day,” Ade said, expressionless.

  Thoren didn’t know who Maud was, but he believed she was sincere. So, he just nodded and turned his gaze back to the rolling tide.

  “I hope you don’t plan to force her to come back and face charges,” Ade said in a cold voice, “because I once saw her disarm a man in literally a second and have him flat on his back unconscious. I mean, he was drunk, but still.”

  Thoren felt a smile tug at his lips against his will. He didn’t doubt it. Turning away from the sea to face the bar across the cobbles, he watched the wooden sign to Cori’s workplace sway in the sea-breeze. Who called a bar The Weary Fairy anyway?

  Glancing at the girl next to him, he said, “I don’t believe there’s any intention to punish Cori, but she belongs with the Legion.”

  “She belongs where she wants to be,” Ade said fiercely, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Thoren almost laughed out loud, something he hadn’t done in the longest time. She sounded exactly like Cori only moments ago. He was glad Cori had, at least, a loyal friend like Ade.

  He had nothing more to say to this girl, so he gave her a brief nod before pushing off the railing to walk away. Before he did, he paused in front of the signboard and tore the magic propaganda poster off and crumpled it up in his hands as he walked back towards the carriage he had hired earlier in the day. Thoren climbed in, tossed the poster at his feet and asked the driver to return him back to the Legion Compound.

  He watched out the carriage window as they bounced past Ade standing in the same spot, arms still folded, and watching Thoren with a distrustful, cold look.

  ***

  Adeline was unusually silent for the remainder of their shift that afternoon. She kept looking over at Cori, as though wanting to say something but deciding against it.

  Cori knew she must want to ask about Thoren, and why she had sat down to speak with him after she had offered for Adeline to serve him. She was still trying to come up with a reasonable explanation as they left the bar when their shift ended, and walked along the streets in the dark, crisp air outside.

  Involuntarily, Cori played with the frayed edges of the fabric scarf piece she always wore tied around her left wrist.

  “Ade, I…,” Cori trailed off, still unsure how or what to say.

  Adeline waited for a moment, to see if Cori would continue. After a pause, she spoke. “It’s okay. I’m sure you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Adeline gave her a small, sad smile before turning down the alley that led to her apartment.

  Cori watched her shadow disappear down the dark alley before starting a slow walk back to her own apartment. Today had not gone how she had thought it would. Cori had always known her past would catch back up to her, but after two years had slipped away, she was just starting to think that maybe, just maybe, the past would leave her alone.

  You’re not who I remember.

  Cori cringed, remembering Thoren’s parting words to her. It was true, she was a different person now than she used to be when she had belonged to the Legion. She had believed whole-heartedly in her place with them, and she had considered them to be the greatest family she could have chosen. She had always wanted to fight for the people, keep them safe from threats. That’s what the Legion boasted overall, was their ability to be sentinels over the cities of Holmfirth. Cori used to believe in them as an organisation, but that had fallen apart two years ago, and Thoren might never understand why she had chosen to leave. She knew that he had faced the same horrors that day as she had, but not in the same way.

  Cori and Thoren had always had an easy, comfortable relationship with each other. It had hurt to see him today and remember everything they used to be and know that it was well and truly gone. Blown away like dust in the wind, never to return to the same place it had once been.

  3

  8 HOURS BEFORE THE MASSACRE

  Cori aimed a series of efficient kicks to the knee and solar plexus on the practice dummy in front of her. She struck the knee in the way that she knew would shatter the bone, and the solar plexus with enough force that any sized person would be incapacitated from the fall they would take after the blow. In the event of too much adrenaline in her assailant, she also practiced a few well-placed punches to the throat, and took pleasure in a feisty thrust of her knee to the groin.

  Cori was well beyond practice dummies, but the initiates surrounding the area were watching her, hoping to pick up on the basics of weakening your opponent. She wasn’t officially a trainer, but Cori had a soft spot for the newcomers, knowing how much they wanted to soak up any training available to them. She had been just as, if not more, eager than they all were. So, she would put on a little show, occasionally speaking out loud and explaining what she was doing and why. When she was done, she would pass by the actual trainers on her way off the training mats, giving them a little wink while they glared daggers at her. In Cori’s opinion, it wasn’t her fault that the initiates looked to her for guidance.

  Cori towelled sweat from her face as she moved towards the bench seats against the walls of the training hall. She sat herself down and watched as the initiates took to their own dummies. Some showed great promise while others needed more one-on-one coaching. She could immediately spot those that had a natural talent, as opposed to those who needed more attention to succeed in passing their training and becoming a Legionnaire.

  “I hope that kid over by scrawny Tim realises that his pathetic kicking is unlikely to slow down an old lady.”

  Cori smirked at the sound of his voice, feeling him sit down next to her. She turned toward Thoren, who was tapping his chin thoughtfully while he looked upon the young ones before them.

  “Give them a chance to learn before you condemn them,” Cori told Thoren, and nudged him softly with her elbow, “they can’t all be as talented as you without even trying.”

  Thoren leaned back, resting his elbows on the back of the bench seat behind him. He cast her an amused look, then turned back to the initiates with a small smile. “Don’t be jealous of my natural prowess.”

  “Oh, but I am,” Cori said with mock sincerity, a hand pressed to her heart, “if only I could outfight and outwit you… oh, wait.”

  Thoren laughed a deep and rumbling laugh.

  Truth be told, Cori had proven herself to be an adept fighter, and there were few times in recent years that she had been bested by any of the other Legionnaires. Although Thoren himself had beaten Cori in a drill last week, and she was the first to admit he was better with the blade than she was, even if it was only by a little. She would still beat him on occasion, purely because she had agility and speed on her side. Her preference was the use of small daggers, and so on occasion, a bigger blade would show her up. Cori did not mind losing to Thoren because she knew that there was no dishonour in losing to someone with great skill.

  They had always encouraged each other. They each wanted to one day become one of the Legion Five, but so did everyone else who became a Legionnaire. To be re-marked as an official warrior of the Five was the highest honour, to represent the old Gods and the people of Holmfirth. Even if the Legion Five were no longer blessed by the Gods themselves, they were still the stronges
t and the toughest warriors in the lands, five people to represent the five Gods they used to have, yet still worshipped.

  It was a long shot, but it was what Cori had worked hard towards every day of her life.

  “Have you finished training for the morning?” Thoren asked.

  “Yeah,” Cori told him, “I’m actually heading up to see my father now before going out on patrol later.”

  Cori bent down to shove her towel and water into a satchel at her feet, readying the straps to sling it over her shoulder.

  “Could you do me a favour?”

  Cori glanced up at him. “Sure?”

  “Tell him that this morning I had three pieces of brown bread, four bits of bacon and two eggs.”

  Cori rolled her eyes before she fixed him with a mildly frustrated stare, even though it was laced with humour. “When are you two going to give this up?”

  “I will when he does, and I do believe I’m much more stubborn than he is. Though I don’t know how that happened, given that he bred a daughter who is the most stubborn person I know. Would’ve thought he might have some of that in him, too.”

  Cori gave him another, much harder nudge to his side, and he laughed as he placed a hand out to stop from falling from the bench seat altogether.

  “Watch it, you,” Cori warned him, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth, “there’s more where that came from, and if I’m feeling vindictive, I won’t go easy on you when we next spar.”

  He gave her a playful smile and watched her stand from the seat.

  “I better get back to training then to keep up with you. I’ll catch you later.”

  “Will you be around?” Cori asked him.

  “I never go too far.”

  4

  Thoren hadn’t been there when she had needed him the most. This is what Cori had thought about with so much regularity following the day that she had left the Legion. Even as time turned the open wounds in her soul to smaller scars, she still bore the taint that day had left on her, and the anger she kept within her still felt raw when she let herself dwell on it.