The Last Legend by Scott Reeves

Author:Scott Reeves
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: tolkien, dennis l mckiernan, terry brooks, niel hancock, fantasy quest, epic fantasy, wizards, sword and sorcery, elves, dragons
Publisher: Scott Reeves
Published: 2014-08-26T00:00:00+00:00

PAIN BROUGHT HIM AROUND. The pain of manacles digging into his wrists, the pain in his shoulders at having his arms forced above his head for what must have been a day at least.

He opened his eyes. A lone torch burned on the wall opposite him, casting a dim light into the cell. Roughly four by four falliwagn paces, it had no furnishings other than a slightly raised ceramic bowl in one corner. The horrid smell coming from the bowl identified it as the commode. Dust covered the floor, dust and straw damp from the water trickling down the rough stone walls. To his right was a heavy wooden door wrapped with iron bands and pierced with a grill .

Ray and Sniff hung on the wall next to him, wrists manacled to the wall. Beamer looked at his own wrists, above his head. Red, raw and swollen, blood trickled down from beneath the manacle bracelets. The back of his head throbbed.

Beamer craned his neck forward to peer at Sniff. “And you were so eager to see the elves,” he said around the cotton in his mouth. “Happy now?”

Sniff mumbled, and Beamer immediately felt sorry he’d been so sarcastic. His friend looked worse than he felt. Sniff’s lower lip was black and swollen, and he had a nasty gash across his forehead.

Beamer sighed and leaned back. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but as he soon discovered, comfortable positions were extremely hard to come by when one was dangling from a wall by the wrists.

“How long have you two been awake?” Beamer asked.

“Two days, as near as we can tell,” Ray said. “You’ve been awake too, but you just mumbled and moaned. They come in and spoon feed us once in a while.”

Beamer goggled. Two days?! They’d been wasting away here for two days? “Haven’t you told them that the fate of the World rests with us? Surely they’ll let us go if they know.”

“We’ve told them,” Sniff said. “Over and over, but they just shrug their shoulders.”

“What about Othiel and the others?”

“Who knows?” Ray replied. “Perhaps the elves killed them.”

Beamer looked around the room, searching for his belongings. His Enchanted Sword. But they weren’t there. Beamer mentally kicked himself. A fine guardian of the Sword he made.

Just then the door banged open. An elf strode into the room, glaring at the falliwagns. He was tall and extremely thin, his skin bone-white. His face was seemed all hard angles, his eyebrows were thin, almost non-existent. His ears were long and pointed. His clothing was a dark shade of green. Beamer could see more elves standing in the passageway beyond the door. Surprisingly, none of them were armed.

The elf stopped in front of Beamer. He reached up and unlocked the manacles holding Beamer. He was surprisingly gentle and careful with Beamer’s wrists, considering the menacing glare on his face. He even lowered Beamer to the ground. As Beamer massaged his raw wrists, wincing at the pain, the elf released Ray and Sniff.

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