Travis Starnes
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The Blackstar Legacy - Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2025-02-20 15:00:08 +0000 UTCThe night was an uneasy one. Even with someone on guard, no one slept well. The crazy old man wasn’t the problem; he curled up and slept the sleep of someone completely unbothered by his surroundings. The rest had to listen to the noises outside the cave.
It was like the night before they entered, but worse, because any noise could be a sign that the creatures out there followed them into the cave. That their safe haven for the night wasn’t safe after all.
And yet, none came. They passed the night completely unbothered by whatever lived out there.
The old man barely roused as they packed the next morning and prepared to leave. It was only as they were fully ready, having eaten a small breakfast, that he finally roused, looking confused and a little wild, mumbling to himself and the rocks around him.
Osric still felt a little bad for the wild old man.
“You could come with us,” he said as they started to leave. “We can help you get back to the world beyond these mountains.”
“No, no, no,” he muttered, rocking back and forth. “Can’t leave. Never leave.”
Grace rolled her eyes, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “This is going to be hard enough without bringing crazy with us.”
“Have some compassion,” Jasper chided her. “We don’t know what horrors this man has endured.”
She shrugged and started to head out of the cave. The old man, though, for some reason, he locked on to Jasper, staring at him with an intensity. Osric was prepared to ignore it. Grace might have been crass, but she wasn’t wrong. The man’s mind was pretty far gone.
As they started to turn, however, the old man said to Jasper, “The girl, the blonde girl, she screamed for you, holy man. She screamed your name. She asked why you didn’t come. Why you didn’t protect her like you promised.”
Jasper froze, his face draining of color. Osric looked to the others, all of whom looked as perplexed as he was. With the exception of Grace, who glared at the Cleric for a moment before turning and storming out of the cave.
Rowan hurried to follow, knowing how dangerous it was for any of them to be out there alone.
“Jasper,” Osric said gently as the cleric stared back at the old man. “We don’t want to get left behind.”
Jasper seemed to shake himself enough to follow the others, who’d paused to wait outside the cave for them.
For a little while, they trudged up the hill in silence, but Osric couldn’t stop thinking about what the old man had said. Yes, he’d said a lot of crazy things since they found him, but this last one hit home. He’d mentioned a blond girl and, given Grace’s reaction, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the girl was Grace.
Osric had always felt there was more between the two of them than either let on, although he had no idea it was this serious. After thirty minutes of walking, it seemed that Grace couldn’t take it anymore.
“You lied to me,” she shouted, seething and pointing a finger at his chest. “You said none of it was true.”
Rowan and Osric both looked around, worried her shouting might draw creatures they’d so far been lucky enough to avoid.
“What are you talking about?” Talia asked. “What isn’t true?”
“I first heard of Jasper from others near Farhaven. They said he wasn’t to be trusted, that he’d done something. Some people thought he’d killed someone. Not just someone, an innocent. When he... found me borrowing things from him, I asked him about it. He denied it, and I believed him. But that old man, he might be crazy, but he knew stuff. So tell me it’s a lie again. Say it to my face!”
“You, of all people, have no right to lecture me about lying,” Jasper said, a lot more harshly than Osric had ever heard him speak to someone.
But she might have a point.
“Grace isn’t wrong, though,” he said softly. “He said it was nothing to me too.”
The thief’s head snapped toward Osric. “You know about this too? And you kept it from us?”
The hurt in her voice was palpable. Osric was surprised by that. He and Grace got along well enough, but they’d only known each other for a few months, and she was usually fairly snarky with him.
He hadn’t imagined him withholding information would bother her that much. She clearly held back what she knew about Jasper too, after all.
But he’d only stayed silent because he’d trusted Jasper. Because he saw him as a man of integrity. If Grace was right... then Osric had made a mistake staying silent.
“When I went into the pool, the gods actually showed me two visions. They showed me not just the tower, but a vision of Jasper with a young girl. A young blond girl. Something felt off about it, but the vision didn’t give me any more information. I spoke to him about it afterward, before we left Avendell. He said he didn’t want to discuss it, that it was nothing. I... I believed him and respected his privacy.”
“Well, I want to know,” Grace demanded, crossing her arms.
Rowan nodded in agreement. “If the gods themselves are showing visions of this, it’s something we should all be aware of.”
Talia nodded, agreeing with both of them. Jasper was outnumbered.
Jasper’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He looked older suddenly, weary beyond his years.
“It’s why I left the Brethren. There was a girl, her name was Nora. She was no more than twelve or thirteen. I was told she posed a danger to magic itself. They told me it was my job to stop her. I asked them to explain it, explain why she had to die, but they refused. I begged them, but they kept insisting it wasn’t someone of my status to understand. That it was my duty to accept their judgment on faith alone.”
He paused but refused to look up, at any of them. Osric could hear the pain in his voice. It was raw. Visceral.
“When I met her, I found only an innocent child. She was so excited when she found out I was a cleric and that I’d come to visit her. She said she heard voices that told her someone was coming to help her. She said it was the gods, and they were preparing her for some great mission to help the world. She said a lot of other things, most of which made little sense, like our friend in there. I thought perhaps she was... touched. I felt sorry for her. I couldn’t understand how this sweet, confused girl could be a threat to magic itself. I also thought, maybe these voices were something else, something corrupting her.”
He finally looked up, his eyes almost imploring them to believe him. “The thought of harming her was repugnant. I thought, if someone is manipulating her, I could help her. Get her to resist whatever it was. That way, she wouldn’t have to die. But... I had to get her away from the brethren first. I tried to help her escape. I was woefully unprepared. The others found us easily enough. They put me in chains while another member, a man I thought was my friend, carried out the execution I had refused to perform. I begged him to stop, but he didn’t even acknowledge me.”
“If they had you in chains, why did you live to say anything? Why would they let you live after disobeying them?” Talia asked.
“They claimed that, while it needed to be done, it had been given to me as a test. A test of loyalty, of my willingness to do what needed to be done to protect magic and the world from the evils trying to end it. They said most recruits failed the first time, that it was hard to become the type of person who could do what was needed. They welcomed me back with open arms. They said I could try again. But I couldn’t. I started questioning everything about them, about their methods and their goals.”
“But you told us you were a minor member of the brethren,” Osric said. “Why would they give a minor member a job like this, or tell them you were being tested?”
“I was. One of the lowliest of the low. That’s likely why they gave me this task. The early ranks of the brethren, I think it’s not about protecting anything. I think it’s about breaking you down. Telling you you’re special and capable of helping save the world. They make you feel like you are part of something, all so that when they ask you to do something unforgivable, you’ll do it. That’s what all it is about, to get you far enough in so that you’ll make that one choice you can’t unmake. Once someone does something like that... the guilt, the shame, it binds you to them forever. You become malleable because fighting back means accepting you’re a monster. So you have to believe it was right, and that they’re right. It wasn’t a test. It was a trap.”
The cleric reached out and grabbed Osric’s hand between both of his, squeezing it hard. “It’s why I was so willing to believe in you, Osric. To follow you. I know now she was actually talking to the gods, gifted like visions, and so were you. You were both chosen. I saw in you a second chance, an opportunity to truly do their will. To be forgiven for failing.”
“Then you weren’t the first they did this to. How did you stay with them for so long? What made you believe in them?” Talia asked.
“I was lost, looking for answers, and they are masterful at indoctrination. It wasn’t just blind faith or fear that kept me there. They showed us concrete evidence of magical disasters they’d prevented. Extensive historical records of catastrophes they’d stopped. They wrapped their lies in truths, making it very convincing. And very hard to ignore.”
“But surely you must have questioned some of their methods?” Rowan asked. “They’re obviously ready to murder people at the drop of a hat, so they’ve done it before.”
Jasper nodded slowly. “I did question them, at times. But they mixed genuine threats with their more questionable actions. It made it... difficult to separate truth from manipulation. But it was more than that. They made us feel chosen. Special. Every mission was framed as part of a noble legacy of protecting the world. Doubt was weakness. Questioning orders was seen as a dangerous not just to us, but to everything.”
“But you’re not some simpleton. How could you not see through their lies?” Grace said.
“They isolated us from outside perspectives. Gradually conditioned us. It became nearly impossible to maintain independent judgment. I couldn’t see it, or what they truly were, until I was away from them.”
“If it was so powerful, then how did you manage to stop being indoctrinated?” Talia asked.
Jasper’s gaze fell to the ground. “I didn’t, not really. Not until Nora. Yes, I questioned them a lot, and though it got me in trouble, they always smoothed things over. The incident with her... it forced me to confront the reality of what they were asking me to do. It shattered their web of control.”
“I’m as shocked by this as all of you,” Osric said. “But we can’t afford this right now. Look where we are. This isn’t exactly the place to fall apart.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed. “So we just ignore what he’s done?”
“I’m not saying we forget this. But the fact is, we’d all be dead already if it wasn’t for Jasper. We wouldn’t even be here at all if it wasn’t for him. He’s been critical to our mission from the start. But we have a job to do. A job that could mean the difference between saving the world and watching it tear itself apart. We need to focus on that for now.”
Rowan nodded slowly. “Osric’s right.”
Talia sighed, her earlier anger seeming to deflate. “I don’t like it, but... you have a point.”
Osric looked to each of the others, who slowly nodded. Grace was last. Her look to Jasper was still more wounded than angry, like he’d let her down. But then she too, finally agreed. Osric knew this wouldn’t be the last of this, but it was enough, for now.
“Alright then. Let’s move out.”
The rest of the walk up the mountain was as grueling as it had been the previous day, but a weight had settled over all of them since the confrontation. None of them had spoken a word by midday, when they finally made it up the side of the mountain and crested it. Osric stopped short as the mountain path, although calling that was charitable, opened onto a broad cliff face, finally giving a view of what lay on the other side.
Below the mountains stretched a wide valley going a few miles in either direction before more mountains pushed up, creating an almost egg-shaped flattish region that Osric thought might be the center of The Claws.
In fact, he was certain it was because there, sitting in the center of the valley, sat the tower from his vision. Its wide base sprawled outward like the roots of some ancient tree, while the central spire thrust up, high above the base. It was in a sad state, with holes and chunks missing from the tower where sections had crumbled away over the years. Large pieces of masonry littered the ground around the base.
The centuries had not been kind to what must have been an impressive sight in its day.
“What a wreck,” Grace said, coming up behind him.
As if to emphasize what she said, a massive shape wheeled through the air near the tower’s peak, dark wings spread wide against the gray sky. The creature banked sharply before vanishing either behind the structure or into some fallen-away opening near its crown.
“This is it,” Osric said, his hand instinctively moving to his sword hilt. “This is what I saw in my vision, although it was much newer then. They kept the blackstar there, in that section near the top.”
They all stopped for a moment to look down at its impressive shape before starting down the mountainside toward it. As with every other piece of mountain they’d covered, it was slow going, with the very ground constantly threatening to slide out under their feet.
They were all happy to be on flat ground again once they reached the valley itself. The walk from across it to the tower wasn’t long and held signs of what this region must have looked like before the ground lifted it up high above the rest of the plains and surrounded it with mountain peaks.
Jasper still hung back, far behind the rest of them, but seeing the tower and realizing they had reached their goal had finally broken the cloud that had settled over them.
They started seeing hints of a crumbling road, its ancient stones still visible in patches, becoming almost recognizable for what it once was the closer they got to the tower itself.
A reminder that this used to be connected to a larger world, built by a society that no longer existed.
As they approached the tower’s entrance, its true scale became apparent. The doorway loomed nearly twenty feet high, though the massive doors that once sealed it hung askew on rusted hinges.
“This reminds me of that keep where we found the first document,” Talia said. “Although maybe it’s because both are old and falling apart.”
“Maybe, although this is so much bigger,” Osric replied, walking up to the door and running his hand along it, feeling the deep gouges in the ancient wood. “Someone’s been here recently. These marks are new.”
Rowan crouched near the threshold, examining the debris. “Axe marks. Whoever came through here had to break their way in.”
“Think it was those ‘metal men’ our crazy friend mentioned?” Grace asked.
“Probably,” Osric said. “These doors might be old, but they were really thick. These guys wanted inside pretty badly.”
“Which means we’re not the first ones here,” Rowan said. “They may have already...”
A low whine from Cinder cut him off. The wolf had broken away from the group and stood near a dense thicket of thorny bushes that had taken root in the tower’s shadow. His hackles rose as he sniffed the ground.
“What is it, boy?” Rowan asked, already drawing his bow.
Cinder turned to look at them and then back at the bush, standing stock still, as if pointing at it.
Osric took several careful steps toward the thorny bush, trying to see what had caught Cinder’s attention. Reaching down carefully, to not be caught by the thorn, Osric pushed the thick branches aside and stopped as a powerful stench of death struck him.
“It’s a body!”
The body was in a full set of plate armor, an expensive piece of equipment that few could afford. It was hard to make out the details of the armor through the thick branches and leaves of the bush.
“Help me pull him out,” Osric said.
With Rowan and Osric both grabbing a foot and the others pushing the branches back, they managed to pull the man’s body out from under shrubbery. What they saw when they did was ghastly.
The body bloated, barely contained by its armor shell, and the smell was overpowering. The blood that had spilled on the armor had long since dried. The man’s helm had been knocked away to who knew where, and most of his face was gone, probably gotten to by scavengers.
One thing that wasn’t hard to see was the crest in the center of the breastplate. Osric hadn’t seen it in person before, but Master Ironhand had described it to him several times.
It was the arms of House Blackthorn, the family that ruled Greenwood.
“What is a House Blackthorn knight doing here?” Osric asked.
“I don’t know,” Rowan said, kneeling beside the corpse. “But he died violently. Look at the side of the armor. Something tried very hard to rip him out of it. The gouges look like claws. And they’re very deep into the metal. Something’s also been feeding on him. Probably scavengers.”
Grace, who had circled the clump of bushes, said, “Maybe this was one of the scavengers?”
Osric stepped away from the knight and went around to stand next to her, with the rest following to see what she found. This thing was almost clear of the thorns, but what it was, he had no idea. It had been ripped into, and what looked like a big chunk was torn out of it, as if a larger creature had taken a bite.
“What is it?” he asked, unable to hide the disgust in his voice.
For a moment, no one said anything, just staring at it. Osric looked to Jasper, who usually had something to say in a moment like this, but the Cleric still hadn’t spoken since that morning.
“Jasper?” Osric proded
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jasper said softly. “But given the other things we’ve seen in these mountains and how much weaker the veil is here, there’s a chance it’s not even something from our reality. Like that creature in the lake or in the temple.”
“Do you think it’s one of the ‘little ones’ the crazy old man was talking about?” Grace asked.
“Maybe,” Osric said. “There would have had to be a lot of them to take down an armored knight.”
“I don’t think this was what killed him,” Rowan countered. “The claw marks are too small for one. Also, it looks a lot fresher. Some of the wounds are still soft. If I had to guess, it was killed within the last day. The knight, though… he’s been here for several days at least. He’s already started to bloat,” Rowan said, standing and brushing dirt from his knees. “I think this confirms what the old man told us though. The ‘metal men’ he mentioned must have been Baron Blackthorn’s knights. Although why he’d send them here is a mystery. Everyone knows it’s a death sentence.”
“More importantly, why did he send them here, to this specific tower? How does he know this is here? No one has been in The Claws in living memory, so how did they know about it?”
“It’s too much of a coincidence,” Rowan said. “Wolfridge is much closer than we were. If they were only a few days to a week ahead of us, they would have learned about our destination not long after we did.”
“Maybe someone knew we were coming,” Osric suggested. “Wanted to get here first.”
“Who? The Brethren are the obvious choice, but how would they know we were coming here?” Rowan asked, looking to Jasper.
There was a moment when Osric thought he may not answer. The cleric looked away, still a little ashamed, but then seemed to shake himself and look Rowan in the eyes.
“They shouldn’t,” Jasper said. “Also, I know of no connection between the Baron and the Brethren. That doesn’t mean they’re not involved, of course. They, or an agent of theirs, could have convinced the baron to send his men.”
“Do you think they were after the Blackstar too?” Osric asked. “If they knew we were coming, they might have tried to beat us to it.”
“And succeeded, by the looks of it,” Grace muttered. “The old man said they left, remember? If they came for the Blackstar and already got it, we’ve wasted our time.”
A heavy silence fell over the group. All that work, and what did it get them.
“We can’t give up now,” Osric said firmly. “Even if the Blackstar is gone, there might be other clues in there. Information about what it is, how it works. We need to know everything we can if we’re going to have a chance at repairing the veil. And if they did take it, we know where they are, right? So first, let’s find out what this place has to tell us.”
“What about... whatever did this?” Talia asked, gesturing to the body. “It could still be in there.”
“Then we’ll deal with it,” Rowan said. “We’ve faced worse on this journey.”
Each of his friends looked to him, to decide what they did next. It was clear none of them were thrilled about the idea of going into a tower that, if the old man was right, killed dozens of armed knights, but still, they looked to him.
Osric didn’t know when he, who was younger than all of them save Talia, became the deciding factor. Or if he was ready for that kind of responsibility.
But he wasn’t going to let them down.
“We’ve come this far,” he said, drawing his sword. “We aren’t stopping now.”
