Legacy's Ghost

Episode 39: Meet Magnus

I'd only seen Magnus, Trinity Member of the LAs one other time in his full-dress armor, and that was in a picture. The photo does not do this man justice.

According to what I'd read, he stands six foot six inches tall, weighs three hundred pounds, and is all muscle. Adding to that enormous size, are the three-inch military boots, and mottled red and brown and gray armor.

His armor is much more complicated than the regular guards, who have smooth hard armor where the body doesn't move, and then some sort of puncture-proof material or chain mail around their joints and areas needing mobility.

Magnus's armor starts at the base of his chin and works its way down his body in a series of thousands of moveable parts that seem to conform and mimic his massive hulking body like dragon scales. Around his waist is a utility belt with several weapons including a knife, an electrified baton, a light sword, a pistol, and a few other devices I've never seen before.

As he prowls toward us, I note the two long, white scars stretching from his temple to his chin on his left side, leaving a bald spot on his short-cropped beard.

His blonde hair is cut short, his deep-set blue eyes are so light they boarder on ice-colored, and when he sees Edmond, he breaks into a brilliant straight-toothed grin and throws his arms out wide and says in a booming deep voice, "Edmond! My friend. It's great to see you again. How long has it been? Two years? Three?"

Edmond rises from his seat, and I follow suit, unsure what to do under these circumstances.

As I stand awkwardly watching Magnus, the man I imagine would probably look like a Viking if we lived on Earth, and Edmond hug. They say a few short pleasantries, before Magnus turns to me and cocks his head, giving me a once over.

"You're smaller than I expected." Edmond glances at Edmond. "I was told he was twelve. This is a boy. How old is he? Eight? Nine?"

A flame of indignation shoots through me and I lift my chin, realizing I'm probably as tall as his bellybutton. "I'm twelve, sir."

Magnus grins, shoots another look at Edmond, and says, "I stand corrected." He gestures to the tufted velvet chair placed in front of mine. "May I have the honor of sitting with you for a spell?"

I glance at Edmond and he drops his chin an inch. "Yes," I say, trying to keep my voice from cracking. I don't know much, but I do know any sign of weakness in front of the Lord of the entire LA Army would not be a good thing.

Magnus stands in front of the velvet chair, but he doesn't move. The three of us stare at each other until Edmond says in a low voice to me, "Protocol dictates that you must sit before either of us can."

"Oh," I say, feeling my face burn. I sit. For once, I'm thankful I have this cloak covering my face.

Magnus grins again and sighs when he sinks into the chair, filling it entirely. "Oh, this is nice. Tell me again why I can't trade that hideous stone throne for this one?"

"Because changing the throne this far into your reign would indicate indecision. You must stay the course. Even with something as simple as your chair."

Magnus grunts something under his breath and Edmond's lips press tight but he says nothing. Is Edmond holding back a smile?

Magnus smooths his hands down the tops of his thighs, making a tap tap tap sound as his armor rubs against itself. He flashes me another dazzling grin then claps his hands together. "Let's cut to it then. An hour isn't much time for negotiations."