Black Crystal

by R A Oakes

  Almost as an afterthought, the unused portion of megentum went into Crytsal. It wasn’t much, but there was enough for her to claim a common heritage with Baelfire.

  The quality of megentum was so refined that it was like being created from golden silk. It was luxurious, it was seductive, it was bold, and it existed in an extremely limited quantity. Crystal had enough of it to wish she had more, just enough to make her realize what she was missing.

  Torn between the megentum and the lesser metals used to create her, Crystal had developed a dual personality. A noble one sprung from the megentum, which had been used in great quantity in Baelfire, her sister sword. The second sprung from another rare metal of enormous value, but more common than megentum, and it had been used to craft the majority of Crystal’s blade. It was an exquisite metal, but due to its increased availability, more prone to the ways of this world and more easily influenced.

  It was after the craftsman’s hammer had ceased its work, and the wizard plunged Crystal into a barrel of cold, brisk water, that a consciousness of her own existence had awakened within her.

  At first, Crystal had been proud of herself, justifiably proud of her beauty, strength and incredible rarity. She had felt fresh, whole and full of life.

  But then, she had looked at her hilt and saw it was made of plain, ordinary iron. The craftsman had run out of the megentum used for Baelfire, and he’d also run out of the exquisite metal used for the majority of Crystal’s blade. Thus, the handle of her sword, which was an important part of her own body, had been made of tempered iron. It was of the best quality craftsmanship, but it was not a rare metal.

  Crystal was shocked by the commonness of her hilt. She had tried to will it away from her, but it was firmly attached for all eternity.

  Still, she consoled herself with the knowledge that she was the finest sword ever made. She must have been. Looking at her creator’s face, she had seen how proud and excited he was.

  He had achieved his dream. Two beautiful, powerful swords.

  Two swords? Crystal had asked herself in shock. What did he mean by dreaming about two swords? Maybe he meant a knife? That’s it! Maybe he created a matching knife. Whew! Why was I worried?

  Anyway, given her own rarity, she could be forgiven if she was a bit concerned about her station in life and a tad vain. Just look at her beauty. Even the well-crafted iron hilt looked good actually, if one took into account her overall appearance. And so, she smiled with smug self-satisfaction.

  Then she saw Baelfire, and her heart went cold with fear.

  Baelfire was a sword of unparalleled grace and charm. She was elegant. Her blade shimmered as if the sun’s rays were bouncing off of it, but the two swords were not even outside.

  Baelfire lay on the craftsman’s workbench in languid splendor. She was so supreme in her self-confidence that she didn’t mind Crystal being created partly in her own image. Baelfire had even smiled a warm welcome to her new half-sister. It made Crystal furious!

  She didn’t want to be loved by some superior being!

  And hatred began seeping into her heart.

  So, since they were forged, bad blood had been brewing between them.

  Crystal was in an almost constant rage over being second best. And although nothing else in the world could be compared to her beauty, she hadn’t known that when she was born. Her sister was an eminently more beautiful sword and, for all Crystal knew, she herself could be common as stone.

  In those early days, things had been said between Baelfire and Crystal that neither of them would ever forget. And not long after their creation, Baelfire had grown tired of her half-sister’s way of venting her personal anger and disappointment on others.

  Crystal’s anger and bitterness had eventually evolved into evil and malice. And Crystal liked it that way, at least that’s what she had told herself. But now, to make matters worse, Baelfire had come into the hands of a young, innocent teenage girl and all of life seemed to be opening up before her.

  So, as Baelfire and Crystal now found themselves flying up into the sky together, this fight had been brewing for a long time. A very long time.

  Baelfire was short and to the point.

  “Crystal, you are not going to have Chen as your master! I’ll never allow that! You have enough problems without joining up with a troubled young woman!”

  “I’ve found a friend, someone like me,” Crystal countered. “You have Aerylln, and now you’re trying to prevent me from having my own true love! I notice you never complained much about Glenitant.”

  “Well, Glenitant wasn’t what I’d call a spectacular catch,” Baelfire laughed before she could stop herself.

  Crystal glared at her half-sister. “All right, if you want to fight, come on!”

  Baelfire and Crystal collided with a force so powerful it would have leveled the trees on the mountains surrounding Crystal Castle, if the swords hadn’t been so high above the ground. Crystal heard her half-sister grunt from the impact, took heart, and charged again. This time, she aimed at the middle of Baelfire’s blade hoping to split it in two. What Crystal got instead was another humiliating revelation. A hairline crack formed along her blade, a very tiny one, but Crystal became hysterical. The dark sword had always known she wasn’t as attractive as her half-sister, but in her wildest

  imagination had never considered the possibility that she wasn’t as strong as Baelfire.

  Always having felt competent, vital, powerful and dangerous, the dark sword took one look at her half-sister floating unscathed in front of her, having received not so much as a scratch, and panicked.

  Crystal fled back to the castle with all the speed she could muster. She had to get back to Chen. The young, black leather panther would make her powerful once more, far more powerful than her goody-two-shoes sister and the little piece of fluff Baelfire had taken as her new master.

  Chen would make things right. Before this, Chen’s rage had always been a source of amusement to her, now it was a matter of the dark sword’s survival. At least that’s how Crystal interpreted things. Her dark heart had long ago blinded her judgment.

  Diving through a castle window and into the great hall once more, Crystal saw Chen by the fireplace mantle, and the evil sword’s heart swelled in anticipation of the young hellion’s hand gripping her.

  What Crystal saw next stopped her heart.

  Eldwyn, the wizard, was standing between Crystal and Chen. If the dark sword had hair, she would have torn it out in frustration.

  Crystal made a quick swing to the wizard’s right side hoping to slip past him, but then she heard it, those terrible words.

  Wizard’s robes flowing all around him, Eldwyn spread his arms wide lifting them above his shoulders, the long, draping sleeves hanging down below his waist. Eldwyn’s robes seemed dull, worn and frayed, but looking into his eyes, Crystal realized they were as sharp and penetrating as ever. The dark sword’s blood went cold.

  Bentar ulray candas temantus! Bentar ulray candas temantus!” Eldwyn shouted.

  The old wizard repeated the incantation over and over, the force of his voice and the sensation of power increasing with each repetition.

  Crystal, feeling the air beginning to swirl around inside the room, was further surprised upon seeing a horse appear at the top of the stairwell. And it wasn’t just any horse. It was Zorya.

  “Life is so unfair!” Crystal screamed, but her words were lost in the roar of the wind hurling about the room.

  As Eldwyn drove himself into a mystical frenzy, the jewels on Zorya’s necklace began glowing. Turning around, Crystal saw her half-sister behind her, and the jewels on Baelfire’s hilt were glowing as well. Beams of purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red light shot out in all directions, rainbows filling the air with deep, vibrant colors. The jewels on Zorya’s necklace and Baelfire’s hilt were acting like prisms refracting light and splashing it all over the walls. It was like an artist gone wild!

  The dark sword watched in horror as El
dwyn reached into a pouch lifting out a few strands of long, blond hair. Crystal’s eyes darted to the girl standing next to Zorya and instantly saw how short Aerylln’s blond hair was.

  “It’s that little tramp’s hair!” Crystal wailed.

  The dark sword tried to run, but Baelfire blocked her way. In desperation, Crystal flew towards the teenage girl figuring that killing her might help, but Zorya reared up and gave a deafening battle cry.

  Crystal glanced around anxiously trying to come up with another alternative, but then something in front of her sparkled catching her attention. Eldwyn was holding up the strands of blond hair, ones he’d saved after Aerylln used Baelfire to cut her hair. And they were glowing.

  Eldwyn tossed them into the air, and they headed towards Crystal. Approaching her, the thin strands became longer and thicker transforming into golden ropes. As the ropes surrounded the dark sword and began wrapping themselves around her, Crystal felt her strength and willpower being drained away. Now greatly weakened, exhausted and ready to faint, Crystal collapsed onto the floor. The cool, black crystal floor.

  Suddenly, remembering the Crystal Medallion in Lord Daegal’s possession, the dark sword called out to it. With her last shreds of strength, she cried out in anger and frustration. And although The Rock was several days hard ride from Crystal Castle, the Crystal Medallion heard the dark sword’s cry.

  “Lord Daegal, we must go to Glenitant’s castle and rescue Crystal!” the medallion pleaded, her voice filled with urgency.

  “Yes, of course. That will come soon enough, but first I have plans to make and troops to call back from furthest reaches of the realm,” he explained. “We’ll be launching an attack on Crystal Castle in due time.”

  “No, we must go now!” the Crystal Medallion insisted. “We’re not leaving yet. Preparation’s half of any battle. I’ll go when I’m ready.”

  Gradually, Crystal’s voice faded, and the medallion could no longer hear her cries. The Crystal Medallion thought, What’s going on? Is Glenitant doing something to her?

  Neither Lord Daegal nor the medallion knew of Glenitant’s death. It was the golden ropes, not Glenitant, who were contributing to Crystal’s demise. Trussed up like a turkey, the dark sword was lying at the feet of Aerylln, who was holding Baelfire once more. Things were looking pretty bleak for the dark sword.

  “Easy come, easy go,” Chen said shrugging her shoulders.

  “Oh, that’s just great. Love me and leave me, why don’t you?” Crystal said, her voice dripping with scorn.

  “Not a bad idea, given the current state of affairs,” Chen groused who, if anything, was a realist.

  Chapter 18

  With Crystal bound with golden ropes, Chen was again feeling depressed and discouraged, but when the black leather panther glanced over towards the stairwell, what she saw brought true joy to her heart.

  “Corson! You old battle-axe, what are you doing here?” she asked while hobbling over to her friend.

  After standing quietly and looking at each other for several moments, they smiled and fell into each other’s arms. Any apprehension Corson felt about seeing her former master again evaporated.

  “How do you like my castle?” Chen asked.

  “Black Crystal and black leather are a good fit,” Corson said smiling.

  Balder, who had come up the stairs after Corson, was watching the two women with some apprehension. Looking over Corson’s shoulder, Chen saw Balder and glared at him, hating the man from the moment she saw him. Chen thought, He’s a typical man, all muscles and no brains! For Balder, that was far from the truth, but when Chen decided to hate someone, she never went about it halfway.

  However Chen was distracted from Balder, for the moment at least, by a young man who reached the top of the stairs, walked quickly over to Aerylln and held her hand. It was Marcheto.

  “They deserve each other,” Chen said to Corson mocking them.

  “He’s Aerylln’s first boyfriend,” Corson said smiling.

  “First boy? I had my first man before I was her age.”

  “Well, that’s you.”

  “It didn’t happen again until later, at least not voluntarily,” Chen said, anger rising within her at the thought of Lord Daegal’s drunken visits to her bedchamber.

  Corson already knew that, but something else surprised her. She’d enjoyed Chen’s arm being around her, finding it very reassuring, but now she noticed her friend’s hand sliding down onto her hip. And she felt Chen’s hand giving her a little squeeze.

  “So who’s your man now?” Corson asked looking closely at her friend.

  “I don’t have a man, I don’t need one, and I’m not looking for one!”

  Corson smiled and shook her head, finding Chen as defiant and opinionated as ever.

  When a man of towering proportions climbed to the top of the stairs, the subject changed abruptly. It was Pensgraft.

  “Of course, there’s always an exception to the rule,” Chen said making her way over to her only real male friend.

  “Did you come up to see what the commotion was all about?” Chen asked smiling at the giant. Leaning up against him, it felt like she was pressed against solid rock. He was massive. Pensgraft made her feel safe, feminine, and he even made her feel happy.

  Suddenly, Chen stepped back in alarm! Looking up at him, she felt a bit frightened. For a long time, the black leather panther hadn’t depended on anyone but herself, and the thought of actually having someone special in her life unnerved her.

  “What’s the matter?” Pensgraft asked.

  “Nothing,” Chen said, but she still had a worried

  expression on her face. Shaking off her feelings of apprehension, she smiled and said, “Come here and meet this bunch of characters. And I thought I was different!”

  Brightening at that thought, she laughed and Pensgraft smiled. The giant liked it when Chen was happy.

  Heading over towards the others, Chen was still feeling unsettled. From experience, Chen knew that after being in a relationship for a while, men often got possessive and tried to control the woman. They’d attempt to tell the woman where she could go, what she could do and with whom. Such futile attempts to limit Chen’s freedom got on her nerves, as if she’d give up being herself and being in control of her own life for a man. Not likely.

  Because guys tried to set rules, every relationship she’d ever been in had ended with Chen walking out. They tried to control her, but all men ever succeeded in doing was making her mad.

  On top of that, sooner or later, she would get bored. She’d never yet met a man who could sustain her interest. And Chen didn’t like being bored. No one did, not really, and Chen least of all. Once boredom set in, the man was shoved out, regardless of the cost to herself or to him. The uncertainty of change was preferable to being ground down by a relationship that was more like a millstone than anything else.

  Fortunately for Chen, she had stumbled upon the joy of confrontation, and it became her one, true passion. Defying and fighting, twin pleasures serving as outlets for her frustration and anger.

  Yet walking next to Pensgraft, she was discovering that friendship, itself, could be a good thing. Less pressure, no boundaries, intellectual conversation and not having to be around him all the time.

  But a nagging little voice at the back of her consciousness was reminding her that friendship involves trust! Gads!

  Sex she might give a man, but trust? No way!

  But as she reached Aerylln, Zorya, Baelfire, Eldwyn, Corson and Balder, a band of creative malcontents, as she saw them, Chen began to relax. She also quickly realized that this giant already knew some of them.

  “Nice to see you again, Pensgraft,” Baelfire said.

  “I’m happy to see you’re all right,” Zorya added with a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you both, but can someone explain why I wasn’t able to get up the stairway until now?” Pensgraft asked.

  “Oh, was the stairway blocked?” Baelfire asked innocen
tly.

  “So, it was you? I should have known,” Pensgraft laughed.

  “When I came up those stairs with Aerylln, I didn’t know what I was getting into. So, I figured it was best to keep most people downstairs,” Baelfire said.

  “Oh, I see. Your protective maternal instincts kicked in again, did they?”

  “Yes, something like that,” Baelfire admitted. “After some hundreds of years, one starts to feel one knows best.”

  “Well, sister, after some hundreds of years, I feel I know what’s best, too. And what’s best is for you to untie me and let me be with Chen,” Crystal said in a huff.

  “Some of us learn slower than others,” Baelfire said looking sternly at her half-sister.

  “If I had a wizard of my own, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” Crystal grumped. “And if I had my own magic horse, I would be long gone!”

  “Since it was you who turned me into a horse, why don’t you go out and get yourself another one?” Zorya asked, her hooves tramping close to Crystal’s hilt.

  “Well, you were one of a kind. It’s not exactly easy to find women like you.”

  “How about changing me back now?”

  “Untie me, and I will.”

  “I’d rather be a horse than see you on the loose again.”

  “Fine, then enjoy being a horse because you’re going to stay one for a long time,” Crystal said taunting her.

  Aerylln walked over to Zorya, stroked her mane and said, “I like my horse.”

  Crystal wanted to say something caustic, but she held her peace for fear of Baelfire. After all, by Baelfire’s own choice, the teenage girl was now her half-sister’s master.

  Although Crystal couldn’t speak freely, she thought, Let me catch you away from Baelfire, and I’ll change you into a horse, too. And we’ll see how much you like that.

  Suddenly, Aerylln felt something cold and slimy creeping up next to her. Turning around, she didn’t see anyone, and the feeling went away. For now.