by S.J. Drew
goin' to have to fight her someday. I don't know that you can win if she's still alive."
"Dammit, Blake, what do you want from me? You want me to be a murderer?"
"Of course not. I don't want you to kill anyone. I really don't. But you are my best friend. I don't want you to get killed either. I don't think Alain wants to see you get killed. I mean, if it's self-defense, I'm sure he'd understand, right?" he answered, his tone pleading.
"I don't know," he sighed. "Gods, I don't know. I thought I was gettin' things worked out. Figured I wouldn't meet the LightBearer for months. I thought it would be a man, you know? A great, big, warrior type with a white horse, and shining armor, and a flaming sword. That sort of thing. Instead I meet a woman who's as young and lost and scared as I am. And I'm supposed to kill her. What kind of monster am I goin' to be when this is all over?"
There was another long pause, as Donnan fought back tears, and Blake slowly cleaned his glasses.
"I'm sorry, my friend. I'm really sorry. But there's nothin' I can do. There's nothin' anyone can do. You can't give the power back. You can't go back on your plans. There's no help for it."
"That's not reassurin'," he replied dryly.
"I'm sorry. I don't think I can be reassuring, so I'm at least being truthful. That's the situation as I see it. And as cold as this is, you've just got to deal with it. It's not going to get any better, or go away."
"No help for it," Donnan sighed. "You're right. I'm not goin' back on anythin'. Just wishful thinkin', I suppose. Maybe I can figure out somethin' else to do about the LightBearer in a few months, right?"
"Maybe," he agreed doubtfully.
"Hey, I've got to have some hope."
"It's a foolish hope."
"Yeah, I know." He sighed again. "Come on. Let's go out and play games or somethin'. I'd like some company for a while."
They left the apartment and went down to the Black Goblet tavern for some games. Donnan felt better at the end of the night, and the sick feeling was gone from his stomach, but his dreams were dark and disturbed.
The solstice approached fast. Winter set in, and there was now a layer of least six inches of snow on the ground in Tallis Marrom. Although intellectually Eliora knew it was cold, she didn't really feel cold, but didn't mention it to anyone and stayed bundled up. Her language lessons all but disappeared as she and Jomei worked on magic and on planning. He could give her some aid with the magic, depending on what he'd been accorded that day by his god, and she made what they thought was good progress. She could and did often cast circles of protection on her own cottage, the priest's cottage, and the city, although only Hanae mentioned it to her, and she was sworn to secrecy. She was working on scrying, but found it required discipline as well as power. Jomei also brought her what information the Council had, brought out maps of the area, and discussed ideas. At night she studied history and politics, and with her training, she was making good progress in her understanding of political situation of the north lands.
She still spent her afternoons learning to fight. It was cold enough the practices had been moved into the gym. With her intense focus, hours every day in practice, her high strength, and what turned out to be a hidden aptitude for swordplay, she was making very good progress. She had been allowed a real sword, and the practices were much rougher. She had nicks and cuts on her hands, and often got bruised and banged up. But now she was good enough to beat all of her sparring partners in most of the matches, and could hold her own with two opponents.
Her social life stayed much the same. Most of the young men seemed to regard her as one of their own, which she felt kept them from being more resentful than they already were when she started to defeat them on a regular basis. However, she had learned some of their northern games, so her defeats seemed to defuse some of the tension. It was an odd situation for her. They treated her as a man, but she could guess some were interested in her as a woman, but didn't say anything in order to keep the peace. As before, Davin was the exception. He treated her not as one of the men, but on his own terms. They met often on the unused watchtower, and spoke rarely, and usually of mundane things. Once he actually offered to spar with her, and he was very surprised when she won. Although they still didn't talk much, she felt he was somehow disappointed in her for seeming to give in to the community's expectation of her. She didn't mention anything, but wondered how he'd react when she finally faced down the Council.
As the days sped by, she and Jomei discussed how best to approach the Council, what to say, and when to say it.
The solstice arrived, cold and clear. As Eliora dressed, she noticed something odd about her eyes. They were white, from edge to edge.
"What in the world?" she thought, blinking furiously. Her eyes watered, but they would not change color.
She spent breakfast looking down at her food, and sat alone to avoid being with anyone else in case they noticed her eyes. Then she went to Jomei's cottage.
"Are you ready?" he asked immediately. Then he took a step backwards. "What happened to your eyes?"
"I don't know. I think it's because it's the solstice."
"But it's winter."
"It's the summer solstice where I come from."
"Right, right. Now, are you sure you can do this?" he asked earnestly.
"No. But give me the sword anyway. I want to do this early because I might need to sleep after I'm done."
He sighed, then grabbed a worn scabbard, which had been laying on the desk. He unsheathed the weapon, revealing a battered longsword. The edge was blunted and the steel a dull, slightly stained color, and it appeared to have gone a long time without any use. "This was my father's. I confess, I never really learned to use it. May it serve you well." He re-sheathed the sword and set it back down.
They quickly moved the furniture to the edge of the room, leaving as clear a space as possible in front of the fire place.
She took the sword and knelt down in front of the fire.
Jomei moved as far away as he could. "I pray this goes well."
"You and me both," she thought. She unsheathed the sword, and started to concentrate, reaching out with her elemental magic. She ran her fingers over the weapon, keenly aware of every notch, every rough patch, every damaged spot.
As the priest watched, she began to glow slightly with an odd light, not exactly arcane, and not exactly divine.
She closed her eyes, and her awareness expanded as she considered the heat and ore that had gone into making the sword. She thought of making it a sword fit for a mighty warrior, a Champion of Light. She held it lightly in her hands, willing magic to flow into the weapon. She felt the notches fill in, the rough spots smooth out, the damaged parts mend. She thought of strengthening the blade, making it unbreakable, and of making the edge so sharp it could cut through even the toughest armor.
Fire flickered up and down the sword. Jomei looked alarmed, but said nothing, as Eliora wasn't crying out in pain.
Then she thought of fighting Darkness, and blessed the weapon, so that the very sight of it would make Dark creatures cringe with fear. She thought of making the sword into the strongest weapon possible, immune to the effects of time, weather, sorcery, divine magic, and fire. How long she poured magic into the sword, she did not know. When she was finished, she stood up and turned to face Jomei.
He was staring at her with a mixture of admiration and horror on his face.
She held the sword out for him to examine. The steel was now white as pure sunlight, but stronger than it used to be, now strong as bedrock. The hilt had changed to plain gold, with no gems or decorations. There was a faint corona of fire around the blade. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice carrying a strange echo to it, like the rumble of the ground.
"It-it's magnificent," he managed to get out, his voice squeaking slightly.
"Yes. I think this will satisfy my needs." Then she closed her eyes again,
and sent the weapon to the same place where the Armor was stored in the Light Realm.
"Where did it go?" he asked, alarmed.
"It's with the Armor, where it will remain until I call it. I must have connected it to the Light Realm somehow." The odd glow was now fading, and she started to feel very tired. "I think I need a nap. Could you wake me for lunch?" she asked, yawning.
The priest nodded with relief. Her voice had gone back to normal. "We'll move the furniture back when you wake up."
She laid down on the couch and passed right out.
The sound of the priest calling her name woke her up some time later.
"I brought you lunch," he said.
"Thanks," she replied, and started to eat.
"I'm going to summon the Council. They'll send someone for you when they're ready." He looked nervous.
"It'll be fine, Jomei. Things will work out alright."
"I hope so, Eliora, I hope so."
"Then why do you look frightened?"
He fidgeted. "Well, you scared me when you were enchanting the sword. You were glowing. Did you know that?"
She shook her head.
"There was fire running up and down the sword, and you didn't even notice. And your voice sounded so odd when you first spoke. I've been a priest since I was a young man, over twenty long years. I've seen great things come from the Light, but I didn't realize until I saw you just how frightening the Light could be."
"I'm sorry," she replied,