Iron Melting (Legend of the Iron Flower Book 6) Read online

  Iron Melting

  by Billy Wong

  Iron Melting

  Copyright © 2013 Billy Wong

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Bonus short story

  Credits and author page

  Sample of Iron Clash

  Chapter 1

  Finn stepped onto the balcony of the tower where he lived and worked. He beheld his wife leaning against the railing, gazing into the distance. Because he loved her, he'd grown to hate seeing her like this. He knew how she tormented herself when she would stare silently at the royal castle across the city. Her wide back shuddered a little, reminding him that while she possessed far more strength than most men—and equal strength to his, though he was the strongest man in Kayland—she could hurt just as much as anyone else. She, the legendary warrior whose tall yet stocky body bore scars beyond counting and who could survive wounds that would kill any other human being, possessed a soft heart still. Right now, what hurt her so was the memory of the good men, loyal knights and protectors of the realm, who she had slaughtered. He'd taken part in that bloodshed too, but felt no regret. What other choice had there been, with the fate of their children on the line?

  He walked up next to her, noticing as expected her misty eyes. The scar-covered round face he yet found beautiful smiled a lot less these days than it once had. When had the infinitely optimistic and resilient love of his life been replaced by this dejected shell of a woman? He wished there were no prophets in this world. It was, after all, a stupid prophet's prophecy that had led them down this path, and continued to haunt them.

  "Damn, I love you," he whispered, hunching down a little as he draped his great arm over her shoulders. Huge for a woman though she was, he still dwarfed her.

  "Yeah, I know." She said it in a flat tone, so depressing compared to her usual enthusiastic reaction to his assertions of love, and just stood there not looking at him.

  He slid his hand through her mane of fluffy dark hair to a disappointing lack of response. Hoping it'd do something for her bleak spirits, he reminded her, "The Spirits Festival is next week. Plenty of exotic drink for us to share passionately." He growled humorously, imitating a big cat. They'd always had fun at the alcohol-fest, especially in the competitions of manly prowess which Rose usually won over every gigantic challenger, Finn included. Hopefully, returning to the event she loved would bring some of the old Rose back through the troubles that weighed her down.

  "What, play while we could be searching for the ancient demon our children are destined to wake?" she replied, her thick though feminine voice somehow pleasant to hear in spite of her upset. "But considering our continued lack of progress, I suppose it'll be nice to drown my sorrows in drink."

  Dammit, that wasn't the point of the Spirits Festival! "Come on, don't be so gloomy. It's not your fault what happened with Lawrence, and we have many years before the time comes for the prophecy to be fulfilled. You don't have to give up on life."

  "I haven't given up on life. I just can't bring myself to feel cheerful when the weight of the world is on my shoulders, that's all."

  Finn sighed, knowing that drink probably wouldn't do her any real good in such a state. Though she said she wasn't giving up, her voice sounded so heartwrenchingly defeated it scared him. Her body had never failed despite them fearing it would due to the massive injuries she endured time and again, but he worried her mind might break after all she'd suffered emotionally over the years. One might admire her capacity to feel despite the amount of bloodshed she had gone through, but in their line of work it also made her vulnerable.

  He got a new idea about how to soothe her wounded soul. "Hey, how about we go away for a while?"

  "Where, to the Spirits Festival?" she asked, wearily though he was the one who hadn't slept last night. "What does location have to do with how I feel inside, anyway?"

  Perhaps a fair bit, he thought. "You're staying so close to where it happened—you see the castle from here all the time, so it's always reminding you of how... you know. Maybe if we go someplace else for a while, just us and our kids, you can begin to forget."

  "Where would we go?" she asked, and it heartened him to hear the growing interest in her voice.

  "Wherever you want, that'll make you happy."

  "Hullel," she breathed. The little mining town in central Kayland where she'd grown up, and the two of them had lived briefly after acknowledging their love. "I miss my mom."

  Rose's mother was a pleasant host, and Finn would welcome a break from his busy life and the responsibility of running the Center for Magical Study. Of course, their friend and center co-founder Derrick would be sorely taxed by being left in charge alone, and he would normally have expected Rose to raise that issue. But her misery seemed to make her less inclined to be quite so considerate, which he hardly minded. She always concerned herself so much with others, but right now she needed to do something for herself.

  "Hullel it is," he said. "I bet your mom's going to love seeing how Jacob and Amber have grown."

  "She sure will," she said with a nod, grinning for the first time in days. "Smart idea."

  Feeling even prouder of himself than he usually did, Finn puffed out his chest. "Of course I'm smart. I didn't become the first mage of the modern era because I was stupid!" Granted, that had been kind of an accident—but that hardly meant it didn't belong on his resume, did it?

  #

  Blocking the overhead slash of a longsword with his own great blade, Prince Victor hooked a foot behind the supposed elite soldier's leg and half shoved, half tripped him to the ground. He kicked the sword from his hand and pinned him down with a knee, putting his blade to the man's neck. Then, he released him, the tenth straight foe he'd defeated, and shouted as he brushed dirt out of his grey-brown beard, "Who's next?"

  No one took up the challenge. The prince, younger brother of the regent of the Kayland, sighed. He supposed the other soldiers gathered in the dusty courtyard around him knew themselves no match for his strength. Despite his graying hair, he was only in his late thirties, and considered himself in his fighting prime. He had been dismayed to be called away from the southeastern province of Jugeld to better serve his new duties of overseeing the entire southern half of Kayland. Why couldn't his brother Lawrence deal with the larger issues of the country himself and leave him in peace? He should have been back home crushing raiders, not struggling to keep fit among the soft men who lived in this city of Coeb far from the border. The "bodyguards" he'd been assigned were an especially sorry lot, most not able to match his height or breadth of shoulders, let alone his skill.

  He stalked back to his overly ornate bedroom, pondering if he should tear down the fancy curtains and roll up the plush carpet to make it feel more like home. He plopped himself down in bed, not phys
ically fatigued but tired as hell of the administrative duties heaped on him. It wouldn't surprise him if Lawrence took pleasure in making him bored, being insufferably boring himself and no doubt jealous of the real man among their family. Even the pampered so-called soldiers here seemed to have seen little action, and couldn't relate to his tales of true battle thrills. Worse were the pretentious attitudes of his advisors, who seemed to think they could disguise their dislike of him by speaking diplomatically. Ha! He could easily sense their uneasiness and plain fear around him, not that their opinion mattered much, those idiots.

  He noticed a letter on his bedside dresser, one from Lawrence marked "open if I am dead when you receive this" that he'd gotten a while ago. He had been considering opening it despite his brother being quite alive, and feeling particularly rebellious did so now. He read through it and his eyes widened as he learned of the conflict between Lawrence and the warriors Rose and Finn, who he'd feared would kill him when he threatened their children. Their children, who a prophet foretold would rouse a powerful demon and doom civilization. Not a man who put much stock in the babbling of sages, he was nonetheless fascinated by the idea it might be the beloved heroes of Kayland whose offspring would bring about the end of the world. Such a brilliantly ironic prophecy made him wonder if it might not have merit.

  Learning of this sparked Victor's curiosity in the workings of destiny, and he decided to pay the couple a visit to speak with them about such matters. He figured they would make decent hosts, being the mightiest of warriors and likely kindred spirits with him. When he made the trip to their home, however, he grew irritated to find them gone. Because he had pressing (and tiresome) business to attend to, he returned to his residence and charged one of the guard captains with bringing Rose and Finn back to see him. The icy anger that sprang up in the curly-haired soldier's eyes upon hearing their names surprised him, and he wondered what had happened between them in the past. Whatever it was, it didn't likely concern him. What he really wanted, he'd decided after further consideration, was to find the seer Evan too. He hated surprises, and it might be of quite some use to be able to see into the future.

  #

  The huge man could only smile as he thrust the red-hot dirk into his victim's right eye, filling the air with a sizzling sound. The youth chained against blue stone screamed with unimaginable pain, neck veins bulging while he helplessly tossed his head, before the steel pierced his brain and silenced him. Though this one sacrifice might not be a huge step towards his goal, the boy's captor felt destiny creep ever closer. It wouldn't be long before his quest of a decade and a half met its fruitful end. In recent days, somehow he'd just come to feel that the time was upon him. The power soon would be his. Looking at the blue stone spike to which his victim was bound, he grinned.

  The object represented the demon lord that had ended the Old World, the golden age of magic. Many knew the story, if not in much detail, of a being that had raised the greatest of monstrous armies and warred against humanity's mages to their mutual destruction. What was less well known was that the creature had actually been a man who had stolen for himself the body of a great demon, with its innate magic. Though he'd died at the end of the war, his power remained in the world, dormant. Hidden in the unassuming piece of rock behind its latest sacrifice.

  It wouldn't be dormant for much longer if he had his way. He fingered the spike which held unmatched power, and an ecstatic rush coursed through him. Soon he would inherit this power, which he'd earned through many years of dedicated work. Sacrifice, the stone craved, and sacrifice was what he gave it. There would be no better time to rouse the demon's power than now, with Kayland still weak after the wars that had plagued it. And with such power at his fingertips, Kayland would only be the start.

  #

  Rose's guilty conscience urged her to hold onto her despair, to push aside the cheer that tugged enticingly at her. But as her children marveled happily at the great hills of snow they passed on the road, she couldn't help feeling better. The issues which so tormented her just days ago already receded from her mind, already relegated largely to her dreams and daydreams, and she had to admit, "Finn, this was a great idea."

  A joyous smile split his face, and he proudly agreed, "Of course it was. Thanks for taking my advice. It's great seeing you happy again. Guess Finn knows best, eh?"

  "I'm happier, but also a little unhappy to be happy, you know what I mean? I feel like a coward running from the scene of my crime."

  "It's not much of a crime when you were just defending yourself, and you've got nothing to feel bad about. Anyway, your mom must miss you."

  It was true Rose hadn't visited in ages, and she hoped her mother wouldn't be too annoyed over it. They soon completed the trip to Hullel. Reaching the old cabin where she'd grown up, Rose knocked, an earnest smile on her face before anyone even answered. The weathered door opened to reveal Lise's wide, sturdy form, and seeing their grandmother Amber jumped into her arms while Jacob hugged her leg.

  "Gramma!" Amber cried, her voice so heartwarmingly eager.

  Rose's own greeting was just as enthusiastic. "Mom! How are you?"

  "I'm great, especially now that you're here. You look well yourself, and your babies have gotten so big!"

  She laughed as she caught Finn patting his chest like to take credit for their children's impressive growth. It wasn't as if Rose was anything close to a small woman herself. "Yes they have, and I've been doing well all things considered. So what's new with you?"

  "Aside from a leaking hole in the roof I need to get the carpenter to fix, nothing interesting has happened around here. So what about you two, any new stories to share?"

  Rose understood her mother knew what the answer would be—invariably yes, yes, yes. "A lot's happened, some of it good, some really bad. Let's talk about it over lunch."

  The family enjoyed a meal with Lise, Rose and Finn telling her all about their adventures since the last visit. Though she'd already heard part of the story in letters, Lise listened enrapt at the full account of the journeys to the eastern continent, where Rose had been made a queen temporarily against her will and defeated an ancient ruler worshiped as a god. When Rose recounted the tragedy of her return home, it moved her to tears. But it was only after the children finished eating first and wandered off to play that Lise asked her daughter resignedly, though with worry, "So what kind of injuries did you receive this time?"

  "I'm fine, mom." She was always "fine," as far as such questions went. Rose didn't like to worry her with the gory details of the wounds she took; they were enough to make any person who cared about her sick, let alone her mother.

  Ever adamant about bragging about her immense toughness against her wishes, Finn revealed, "She got nastily run through with two huge weapons at once, nailed to a wall with a sword through her chest, and had over a dozen burning and freezing holes put in her including one from a molten gauntlet being punched through her ribs before grabbing and burning her heart. Came through just fine, your indestructible girl."

  Seeing the familiar shock and fear appear on her mother's face, Rose punched her husband's shoulder. She hugged Lise, assuring her, "I'm okay, I heal well... I'm the nigh unkillable god-touched freak, after all." Why did Finn have to say such things? This was why she felt somewhat ambivalent about bringing him to see her mom—even after all these years, he wasn't as sensitive to her concern for Rose's health as he should be. He had eight years on her, but she'd always felt like the elder between them, though he did have his insights.

  "How'd you get this huge scar on your cheek?" Lise asked, gently touching it.

  "A morningstar hit me. Don't worry about it." It'd only torn through half her face, after all.

  "You scare me so much, Rose. Haven't you suffered enough? No one would blame you if you retired from being a warrior."

  Sometimes she wondered how the damage she'd taken would affect her in the future, and how much it would shorten her life. At the fairly young age of twenty-four, pain
already wracked her every day. But fighting for things she believed in was a big part of her life, and she wasn't ready to give it up just yet. "I get hurt a lot, but I can take it better than anyone. You worry so much about me, but you should really worry more about yourself..."

  "What do you mean?"

  Rose felt unsure if she should have said it, but there was no turning back now. "Sometimes I think about you being here all alone, and I just get worried. I know I haven't exactly made things better for by going away, and I'm sorry about that, but..."

  "You want me to find another man?" Rose blinked, and Lise chuckled as she continued, "I know what you're thinking when you keep asking me about that in your letters. Don't worry, I too can take care of myself. I'm doing just fine, don't you see?"

  For now maybe, but Lise wasn't a young woman, and it wouldn't be long before the weight of years began to take their toll. What would happen if, living by herself while she grew more frail with age, she fell or otherwise became incapacitated? She must get lonely sometimes, too. As an alternative to a new man, Rose would be happy if Lise came to join her and Finn in Gustrone, but for whatever reason she didn't want to.

  Not wanting an argument, though, Rose replied, "Yeah, you seem to be doing okay. Sorry about being so fussy." Rose wished she would be more aware of herself, and felt infinitely guilty to consider it might be good if something happened to make Lise open her eyes to her growing vulnerability. She loved her mother so much, and felt like a terrible person to have such thoughts—but she just wanted to be around to protect her, and if Lise getting hurt slightly now could make her see reality and save her worse harm later...

  Damn, she was being an awful human being. She wanted to punch herself in the face, but that would be awkward. She supposed her unusual negativity and pessimism might mean her troubles still haunted her, even if she didn't consciously think of them.

  "No problem, Rose," Lise said. "I know you're just worried for me. So has motherhood grown on you yet?"