Hudson - Legends From a Jumbled Man

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Foreword

Welcome. My name is Michael Hudson, or, as I was known for a long time, Jumbled Thought. This is why I have used the title that I have for this book, because the themes within, the styles, and the inspirations all come from a mind that drifts and find new things to write about, whether I want it to or not. I do not wish to dwell on just myself though, not when I wish to use this to acknowledge the man who inspired my first legend and made me realize my love for writing this sort of tale, whose memory I hope may be immortalized to some extent through this.

His name to me was Raiden Fireblade. He was a friend Id only had the pleasure to speak with perhaps a handful of times, and only ever online through Skype. He was a part of some of the groups I was in, but never the most talkative man. If someone wanted advice though, or needed a friend, he would come quickly to their aid.

And so when one night it was decided for him to be taken from us, without warning, without farewells, and the only solace being that it had been painless and in his sleep, I saw those affected by him crumble. I personally had wished to have known him better, but I only had my limited experiences, and the impact hed had on my friends.

So, with those in mind, I did my best to honor his memory, using his regular username to guide my mind, and to such a fervor did it find that within an hour from when I began, I had finished a story for this dear friend.

I wish to thank him now, and his family, for allowing me the joy gained from this tale. Its still to me my proudest story, because it was not merely to entertain or to cause others to think, but meant for a few certain people to comfort them. To help them. To allow them to find some closure in the times that had befallen them.

And thank you Raiden for allowing me to continue your work in this way. I only hope that wherever you are, though good I know it is, that it helped you find peace and be able to enjoy eternity as you may have desired.

The Legend of Raiden Fireblade

This story takes place long ago, in a world ruled by fear. Where you turned, bandits, monsters, and death would meet your feet. It was a place few wished to live in, and made some wish that the devil himself would come to take their sanity. At least then they would have no minds to comprehend the pain they were in.

One town, stuck upon the side of a mountain, with a dense forest on all sides, knew all of this. Nowhere that these poor folk went was safe, minus the one, large clearing that held the fifty souls of their community. Only there could they fight back the horrors that claimed the forest, their home, and even that was turning into a losing battle.

It was during these dark times that a gift came to the village. A sword that appeared one night, with no craftsmen to claim it. All around the shining, steel blade, was a blue flame, threatening to burn any who touched it. Those who came close though, heard its challenge. Heard its want for a master, and the promise that whoever used the blade would be able to keep the village safe, and would eventually make it prosper.

To many of the men, the very idea of fame set them sprinting into the blaze, only to have their hands and forearms singed as the flames licked them. The smell of burnt hair made sure their shame was known as it rejected the unworthy. Some women, fueled by their desperation, tried their hands to lift the blade and, while it did not act as vicious to those merely seeking to save their children, it would still refuse them.

It was not until one man, by the name of Raiden, came to the blade that things changed. By then, all others had tried, and failed, to pull out the blade. He himself had always stayed away, not being one for violence and glory, and thus, had not been interested in the blade. By now though, he had grown tired of the pain. He was wise enough to know that if none of them wielded the weapon, they would all fall. So even though he suspected it would reject him, he walked into the circle of flames, and was engulfed by the ensuing inferno.

At first, the white landscape around Raiden made him think that he had indeed been rejected, and so harshly that he was now spirited beyond away from those he loved. However, Raiden soon saw a flame come to life, and an ancient being, wreathed in flame as his only form of modesty, stepped out to face him. No words needed to be said for the meaning to be understood. This was the spirit of the sword, and a deal was to be struck.

My flame is not like those youve had before. A spark can destroy stone castles, while a stray burn will spread to swallow even the largest of silos, taking all within with it. For those who wish to see this, who wish to burn, to consume, to kill, that is what my power shall become. This is why I offer to you, and only you, my powers. It will bring you into combat, but in return, your home and people will know your kindness, and you will brighten the land like a great bonfire, but only so long as you continue to use it right.

Raiden opened his mouth to accept, but the spirit stomped a foot to the ground. From it, the landscape began to crack and split while magma sprouted from below, threatening to swallow them both. Do not be so quick to accept, for there is a price, just as with any flame. Once I leave the ground, my flame will no longer be able to use the Earth to feed it. The one who wields me must thus carry the burden of that fire, feeding it and keeping it strong.. If ever it were to go out, so will the wielder.

This stopped the man for only a moment, before he nodded in agreement. At this same moment, the wailing townspeople, who now thought they saw this trickster blades true colors, had to rush back as the fire shot into the sky, illuminating the world for miles around.

And when they looked back down, they saw Raiden, blade in hand, shielded from the flames by seemingly nothing.

For the next few months, Raiden went to work, earning what would soon be his nickname. Fireblade, as one would never see him without it, and the assumed holy blade seemed apt for the young man. He could purge any evil that came to threaten his home, whether it be a frightful chimera, a band of bandits, or even a foul hydra, bent on consuming them with its multiple heads. He face them all without a hint of fear, throwing himself into their protection.

Even with all of this, Raiden never fell, nor, perhaps,.was elevated from his position in life. If he were not in combat, he refused to ever lift a hand against another. Even if a fool came up, attacking him so as to try to challenge the champion, he would not dare retaliate. Instead, he would simply walk away back to his farmstead where he insisted on working for his food and living. Most gifts, while thanked dearly, were refused, no matter how grand or rich. He simply tried his best to keep being the man he was, and that included making others happy, not himself.

Unfortunately, not even a year would pass before he would be tested. This great obstacle came in the form of a goddess, who came to the town only because she was chasing a remnant of the evil itself, and trying to bring it to order. She had been injured recently though, and required refuge. However, few recognized her for the being she was, and thus shut their doors from what they thought might be a corpse that was soon to be made, or a trickster bent to burn their homes down.

Reaching Raidens house though, she was accepted with open, but worried arms. He explained to her that the town was fearful, for this was to be the first winter with him as their guardian, and they werent used to being able to trust yet. The goddess acknowledged it as fair, but showed her pain while doing so. It was while Raiden cauterized her wound that the shred that shed chased fell upon them.

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