Legend's Echo Chapter 01

Hey everyone! I know this isn't a Ranger post, but I'm currently fighting with where to go after reworking the last leg and realizing that my old ending is going to be gutted to the point that most of it will be unsalvageable if I want to pull off the much more epic finale I now have planned. (One of the big set piece moments I had planned for the next book is gonna be part of the new finale, and that's gonna take some work to get right.)

So, to hopefully hold everyone over, here's chapter 1 of another new idea I have! It's a Fantasy adventure, featuring a jaded healer who finds herself in over her head when a mission goes wrong. I hope you all enjoy this sneak peek of another series that I'm experimenting with!

***

“They’ll arrive just before noon.” 

The eve of a major battle always brought an atmosphere filled with tension, especially among the veterans.  Each person in the current tent could count themselves among that number, but even among equals there was always someone who stood greater.  Robin was the highest ranked of her station present, one of two Gold ranked healers in the Kingdom.

With luck, this mission might just get her enough Merits to move up to Platinum, a feat that no healer has managed in almost two hundred years.

An armored figure glared down as the lead scout gestured at a point on the map in a mountain range to the north of their position.  “The hoard numbers over a thousand, mostly young drakes and a handful of wyvern.” 

“Nothing to be concerned with,” Ser Bran said.  He was the ranking commander of the expeditionary force assembled by the King of Alvon.  A collection of soldiers and sellswords all gathered to defend the realm.  “That still leaves the big bastard.” 

Being the leader, however, did not mean that he was the strongest person in the room.

“Bitch,” the armored man said, his voice ringing through the enclosed helm.  “The leader of the hoard will be the broodmother.” 

It was rare to find an adventurer that covered themselves in armor from head to toe, but this man had done so.  There wasn’t a spec of exposed skin, no easy weakness to be exploited.  He was the one all adventurers aspired to become.  The greatest among them, the man who stood atop Platinum rank against all who would challenge him.  Their Ace in the coming battle and the only reason the King authorized such a commitment of their forces.  Known only by his title, having earned it by clawing his way to the top. 

The Legend.

Being in his presence was always a series of mixed emotions for Robin.  From awe at the sight of the greatest hero to grace the lands in centuries, to embarrassment at her own actions nearly a decade prior.

The scout swallowed heavily as their finger slid along the map.  “She is currently flying above the hoard, shadowing their approach.” 

“Expected,” Ser Bran said.  “Legend, you’re sure you’re up to the task?” 

Rather than answer, the armored figure only nodded.  He was a man of few words, and people tended to listen when he did deign to speak.

It was something that Robin had noticed over the handful of times that she had met the man.  Then again, when someone reaches the peak of human ability, they could get away with acting however that damn well pleased.  Adventurers tended to grow full of themselves as they reached the Gold ranks.

His taciturn nature was something that drew her to him, and she was glad that someone like him was the standard that all adventurers held themselves to.  Ser Bran was a low level Platinum adventurer, which meant he was not someone to underestimate.  Even though Robin was a healer, she was still considered a threat to most Bronze and even some Silver adventurers. 

Experience meant a great deal when it came to how dangerous a person could be, and even healers often knew how to stick a knife in someone.  If Robin was to be honest with herself, healers were often more dangerous than the average adventurer simply because they tended to know exactly where to stick the knife to do the most damage. 

That and they could shrug off a knife even if someone did manage to stick it in the right place.  Robin tried to avoid battle, but sometimes bandits happened upon the group she was traveling with and she had to defend herself.  It ate her up inside each time, but such was life for a woman who had taken to the road rather than settling down. 

“That covers the battle itself,” Ser Bran said, his attention shifted from the battle group to Robin.  “Lady healer, is your group ready to receive injuries?” 

Robin grimaced, more at the title than the actual question.  “I’d prefer more experienced healers if I’m being honest.  Between myself and Donovan, we are severely lacking.  Two Silver ranked and seven Bronze round our numbers out.” 

“Unfortunate, but not unexpected,” Ser Bran’s second said.  The stout man was a high ranking Gold adventurer, but she hadn’t caught his name in the initial greetings.  His plate armor was of appropriate quality, if heavily worn.  It spoke to him being a practical sort that didn’t care as much for appearances.  “I trust you have a solid rotation established to keep the young healers from burning themselves out?” 

A hesitant nod was her answer.  “I can’t promise we won’t run into issues if there is a mass casualty event, and with a Dragon being our ultimate foe, that’s almost assured.” 

“Too true,” the man agreed.  “We can only hope that the last stragglers that our runners manage to bring on turn out to be of use to you.” 

“Unlikely, given how rare healers are in the first place,” Ser Bran said.  “The optimism is appreciated, however.  Should they arrive, I trust you’ll see them situated?” 

“Of course,” Robin said with an affirmative nod.  

“Then that covers everything.  You have the rest of the evening to prepare for the coming battle, and I expect everyone to be well rested for the coming day.” 

She didn’t want to mention this next part, but she knew it could be the difference between a line holding or collapsing in the face of one individual too tired to keep a steady footing or grip.  Her own history with the substance not withstanding.

“Poppy tea will be available to all who need it courtesy of Healer Donovan,” Robin added reluctantly, unlike her, he got to use healer as a title rather than a descriptor.  “He brought a supply with him.” 

“Tell him he has our thanks,” Ser bran said with a smile.

The Legend grunted, and turned away, heading for the tent flap.  He’d just made it clear that the meeting was concluded and aside from a few platitudes, it seemed to be the case.  Robin slipped out a moment later, taking a deep breath of the crisp mountain air.  The tent overlooked the valley where the battle was going to be held.

Robin pulled her robes a bit closer to ward off the chill.  A thin frost was settling over the sparse grass despite it being late Spring which would make the coming battle messy.  Slick ground meant poor footing.

Not that the ground wouldn’t be slick with blood within minutes of the battle beginning.  Robin wasn’t a frontline fighter, but she’d seen enough people slip on blood to respect how easy it was to lose one’s footing in war.  The coming battle wasn’t a war, it was survival. 

“Robin,” a voice called out.  She turned and bit back an exasperated sigh as Healer Donovan hurried over.  “How did the meeting go?” 

As the son of a cobbler from the poor part of Alvon, Donovan hadn’t expected much of a future.  That was until Robin had found him and recognized the gift he had.  She took him on as her first apprentice almost a decade prior.  He was now one of the most decorated healers in the country.  Despite being eight years younger than her, just by virtue of being a man meant he found work more easily, and garnered respect with ease. 

He’d shot up the ranks and would probably beat her to platinum at the rate he was advancing.  The prestige from successfully completing this mission would reflect on the both of them, but Robin knew the Guildmaster would attribute most of the credit to him instead. 

She tried to avoid bitter feelings, but such was how the world worked. 

“Your offer for poppy tea was welcomed,” Robin said, wanting to get that out of the way first.  His ego needed the boost before she dropped the bad news and if the near skip in his step was any indication, it was working.  Now to drop the other sandal.  “Unfortunately there has been no word of additional healers joining us before the battle.  We’ll need to make do with who we have.” 

He paused in his stride, a sharp turn was punctuated by his fearful expression.  “Robin, we don’t have enough people…” 

“I know,” she snapped.  “I don’t like this either, but we have to work with the hand we’re dealt.  You and I both can handle ten times the numbers of the Silver ranks, and fifty times the Bronze.  We will make it work, or die trying.” 

“Well spoken,” an echoing voice said.

Robin nearly jumped at how close it was, and actually did when she looked up.  The Legend stood not three feet behind her, having somehow managed to sneak up on her without making a sound.  It was sobering, and she reflexively swallowed as she accepted the knowledge that this powerful man could have killed her without even a warning. 

“Ser Legend!” Donovan snapped, falling into a salute that the man had no right performing. 

The fear that had clouded the man’s eyes was almost instantly replaced with starstruck wonder.  It was no secret that her former apprentice idolized the warrior, though they crossed paths enough over the years that he should have gotten over it. 

Robin certainly had, no matter how much she once wished for the hero’s attention. 

At least, that’s what she had to keep telling herself.

“At ease, adventurer,” The Legend said, though his tone was as hard to place as ever.  “Healer Robin, I look forward to seeing how you perform tomorrow.” 

And just as quickly as he had arrived, The Legend was off to bother someone else.  That, or he was looking for an easy lay.  There were always rumors about how women threw themselves at him, hell, she’d been one of them.  How could anyone like that resist the attentions of so many women?

Yet, she was politely rebuffed.

The memory still brought embarrassment with it, and a fair bit of anger and resentment that she tried to not direct towards the man.  She’d been forward and he’d given her an answer.  It was as simple as that.  They had maintained a professional working relationship ever since, despite any lingering emotions that might be warring within her. 

Shaking off those memories, Robin was thankful that her former apprentice seemed to be too starstruck to really notice her little venture into the past.  “I’m going to check the camp, let everyone know about your tea offer, I’d suggest you get ready to brew enough for everyone that asks.” 

Donovan blinked, then seemed to catch up with the moment.  “Right!  Good plan.  I’ll go get on that right away.” 

He hurried off and Robin had to hold back a dry chuckle.  She’d practically raised the young man, and she could easily recognize the signs of a crush.  Not that he ever actually flirted with other men, but it was close enough that the difference was miniscule.  Hero worship to a fault.  Robin often wondered if he might have been happier as a warrior than a healer, but that wasn’t her lot in life. 

Wounds were closed, bones mended, diseases cured.  That was her calling in life, and that is what she passed on to each apprentice she had taken on over the years.  Sometimes she feared that she had failed him in some way despite his success. 

No, that was just the pre-battle jitters talking.  Robin often battled with her own doubts on the eve of a stressful encounter, and she would continue to do so until her dying day.  

Robin looked down the hillside towards the small runoff from the mountains that cut through their campsite.  Fires dotted the hillside the adventurers had chosen for their camp location, with a scattering of people gathered around each one.  Some were teams of comrades, others were old friends meeting up again after their paths went separate ways.  It was a mess of organized chaos, and a sight well familiar to the Gold ranked healer. 

Across the stream, the soldiers’ own camp was established with proper planning.  Neat lines of tents run parallel to one another, the order a mirror to the adventurers own campsite.  The soldiers were welcome help, but they weren’t monster hunters, not like the adventurers. 

The soldiers would be of little help once the beasts hit their lines in force.  A shield wall was only so effective against crushing fangs and ripping claws.  There was a reason the King never sent soldiers on monster extermination quests, it was a lesson that seemingly never took when it came to their oh so wise ruler.  The poor soul that had taken to drilling them in beast tactics was facing an uphill battle of their own, with precious little time to prepare.

No, it would be the adventurers that settled the fate of the realm once again.

Just thinking of the King was enough to make her blood boil at times.  There were so many decisions that were suspect when it came to the art of felling monsters, and the near constant rehashing of this idea that soldiers could handle any monster bigger than a goblin was almost insulting to see them present and in such numbers.

Robin let out a heady sigh as she continued her rounds, casually mentioning to each fire that Healer Donovan had a sleeping aid.  The mindless nature of it allowed her thoughts to center and to work through her frustrations.  At least until she returned to the healer’s portion of the adventurer camp. 

Donovan had a line of people, all eager for a cup of the poppy tea.

Not that Robin had any plans to touch the stuff no matter how much it might help.  The tea was useful as a sleep aid, but tended to become necessary for those who overindulged.  She’d gone down that road early in her career, and it was only the steep price that allowed her to wean herself off of the addictive brew.  The temptation to dip into the supply would be strong, but she would have to resist it.  

“Lady Robin!”

One of the younger healers was running towards her, his messy hair flapping with each step.  He stopped just in front of her, panting heavily.  She reached out, laying a hand on him even as she lifted her staff, and let a gentle pulse of mana run through him.  The crystal foci within pulsed brightly, her attunement with it nearly flawless. 

Almost immediately the boy’s panting slowed and he regained his breath. 

“Many thanks,” he said, standing up straight once more.  “Two additional healers arrived!” 

Robin’s expression lightened and she couldn’t help but return a beaming smile.  Two healers didn’t sound like much, but already she was reworking the rotation schedule in her mind.  Things would be so much easier now, and less people would die as a result.  Robin doubted either of them would be worth much, but that was still two more bodies that could handle minor injuries. 

She wouldn’t trust life threatening debilitations to anyone under Silver rank.  No, more than likely it would be her and Donovan healing the majority of those.  There were few people that could handle organs being on the outside of the body, and she didn’t mean healing the injury.  No, most couldn’t stomach the first time they saw it.

Robin hadn’t. 

“That is wonderful news.  Make sure they come see me once settled.” 

“Of course!” the young man replied, already hurrying off. 

He couldn’t be older than fourteen, not even close to being a man, and here he was entering a battlefield.  The world was cruel indeed, and healers knew that more keenly than even the most hardened warrior.

The fire was warm and inviting, and Robin settled in beside it.  A steaming cookpot sat over the flame, promising something with more flavor than basic travel rations.  Better yet, it looked like one of the healers had even made a bunch of pan bread for all of them to share.  She would need to find whoever managed that and give them her personal thanks. 

Robin spooned up a bowl of the stew, knowing better than to ask where they managed to find fresh meat for the pot.  If nothing else, it was hot and filling, which was more than could usually be said on the eve of a major extermination mission. 

It didn’t take long for the new arrivals to make their way over to Robin, and as expected, they were both Bronze ranked.  One was just a town healer that had only registered a decade prior to avoid paying for a seat on the caravan they needed a ride from.  Still, they were bodies, and every little bit helped. 

The sun had long since dipped behind the mountains, but remained far from set.  The sky glowing behind the looming spires of stone and snow.  That was when Robin caught sight of him, standing atop one of the highest peaks nearby, gazing off towards the northwest. 

She didn’t know what The Legend saw in the distance, but she knew what he was looking towards.  Robin could only hope that it wasn’t their approaching doom, knowing full well that all their futures rested in that man’s hands.  Even after all this time, she still held a torch for him, and he would carry it, just as he carried all of their hopes into the coming storm.