William of Archonia: Redemption

by Jarod Meyer

  “Not in here!” Chang Fei said sternly, and she quickly apologized.

  William continued searching the walls. There were spears, pikes, and tridents. But he also saw swords, Claymores, daggers, maces hammers, and axes of all shapes and sizes. And yet, his eyes were continuously drawn back to the simple sword.

  He approached it to study its intricacies. The hilt was bluish-silver, and the handle wrapped in black leather. It looked old, like an antique There was very little inscription upon it. Compared to the other weapons, it was nothing flashy, yet it shone brighter than any other. He slowly reached up, his palm hovering just above the metal to grab it. He could feel energy pulsing off of it.

  His hand flinched, and he paused momentarily, but then reached out and grabbed it. It was metal, but the surface didn’t feel cold. He lifted it carefully from the hooks, and almost dropped it. He took a breath and regained his hold. It was very heavy…much too heavy for its size. He lifted it to study the blade, but just as Brock spoke.

  “That is a puny little sword,” the large man said.

  William felt a pang of anger and looked up just in time to see Brock swing a massive hammer above his head. It looked like a wrecking ball attached to a twig. William only had time for a single, basic reaction, so he hoisted the sword above his head in an overhead parry.

  There was a bone shaking boom, an explosion, and a burst of energy. William fell to a knee under the force of the blow, while Brock was thrown backwards by the blast. He hit the floor with a crash, his eyes wide.

  “What the?” Brock growled in surprise.

  William stood up in shocked silence.

  “I guess it is not as small as it looks,” Brock said huffing as he got to his feet slowly.

  The others watched the little encounter wide-eyed, chuckling nervously.

  “Enough!” Cheng Fei shouted. “Recruits, by choosing your weapons you have taken your first step towards becoming a true Guardian. They have chosen you just as much as you chose them. They will be your life, so trust in them, and they will protect you.”

  The group looked at one another. William spotted Juarez with a long elegant looking rapier. It suited him. He looked at Brock who handed him a leather covered scabbard. Apparently it went to William’s sword, because it fit perfectly inside. Brock helped him get the scabbard slung over his shoulder. Though Brock thought the sword was small it was still too long to dangle at his waist. The others worked likewise to sling and fit their weapons.

  “Now, some of my finest students have agreed to help you train with these weapons,” Chang Fei said gruffly. “Do not disappoint me. I do not want my old students thinking that I have become soft. The first one to embarrass me will hold the atlas ball all night long.”

  William exchanged looks with Juarez and Katrina, who both rolled their eyes. Chang Fei turned and departed in a blur, leaving William and the others scrambling to catch up. Before they knew it they were on the training grounds, surrounded by five fully armored Guardian soldiers.

  “William watched the group around him. They all eyed the group of warriors, the envy painted clearly on their faces.

  Each of the warriors armor was different, most likely a reflection of the individuality of their own soul, just as no two faces are alike. A very tall man, donned in white, leather armor stepped towards Katrina, before directing her over to an archery range.

  Juarez squared his shoulders as another man stepped forward, brandishing a cutlass not dissimilar from his rapier. Samuel and Ulifrig stepped aside next as they were claimed by their chosen trainer.

  The last, remaining Guardian stepped slowly up to William. He was of average build, but carried his weight confidently. He wore plate armor over shiny chain mail. A mail coif covered most of his head, leaving only his face exposed. He drew a sword out of a scabbard at his side. The blade was at least a foot wide, and looked lopsided considering the much smaller hilt. Still the man hoisted it as easily if it were a feather.

  “Hello. My name is William,” he said introducing himself to the stranger.

  “I am well aware of who you are, tainted one. Believe me, I am only here on orders from my superiors,” the man stated.

  William scowled. What a jerk, he thought to himself.

  “Where I’m from, if someone introduces themselves it is polite to return the favor,” William said more than a little annoyed.

  The guardian studied him for a moment, and then spat, “Draw your sword, filth.”

  By now William was used to people treating him. Although, it had been a while, thanks to the seclusion of initiate training. But now he was back in the thick of it.

  William rolled his eyes, and gripped his sword. He slowly slid it out of its scabbard. God, it weighed a ton. The blade glimmered in the morning light, and William smiled a bit. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of steel, and his trainer’s sword cut in. William flexed with all his might to wield his sword, and was just able to block the incoming attack. There was a crash as the two metal blades collided. He felt the force vibrate through his arms as the connection was made. Then a crack issue forth and William’s sword struck back against the enemy blade of its own accord and knocked the enemy blade backwards.

  The Guardian looked shocked, his focus lost for a moment. William took this opportunity to whip his sword around, and nail the man in the head with the flat of his blade. He was knocked to the ground, kicking up dirt everywhere, but rolled and hopped back up into a defensive stance almost immediately. He eyed William, his posture relaxing, and his eyes wide.

  “The blade of Othin all father,” he stated.

  “Uh. Yeah. Sure,” William said sarcastically.

  “That is Gungnir,” the man said, pointing at it like it was on fire.

  “I thought Othin wielded a spear?” William asked, inspecting the sword.

  “It takes the form of whatever weapon you wish,” his trainer said. “This weapon has chosen you? The tainted one?” he said with obvious disgust.

  William didn’t have a response, so he stood there for a few, long moments, glancing from the guardian to the sword in his hand. A sudden and undeniable wave of pride swept over him.

  “My name is Alacron. Please forgive my earlier rudeness,” the man said, walking forward and extending a hand.

  William looked at him skeptically, expecting him to pull it away at the last second, but eventually put his hand up slowly. Alacron took it and gave it one firm shake.

  “I have only ever heard tales of this weapon. I have seen this hanging in the Barracks,” he said looking it over. “I never imagined such an unassuming blade could hold the power of an Archon.”

  William almost laughed, and asked, “You want to touch it?”

  Alacron snapped his head up at William, and shook his head, “I do not think I could wield it.”

  William smiled, and held it out. “C’mon.”

  Alacron sheathed his sword, and whipped his shield deftly onto his back. William held the sword by the flat of the blade, so he could take it by the handle. Once resting in Alacron’s hands he let it go and was shocked when his trainer cried in surprise and hit the ground. Alacron roared in pain, the sword pinning his hands to the ground. Everyone stopped sparring, and huddled in to watch the exchange.

  “Oh crap,” William said, grabbing the sword and lifting it back up. Alacron sprung to his feet, rubbing his hands together and cursing.

  “As I suspected. Like most of the weapons forged in that era,” Alacron said. “Only the One the weapon owes allegiance to can wield it.”

  William laughed, “That is awesome. I am going to have to use that one on Brock.”

  “First you will need to know how to use it in combat,” Alacron said, now smiling. “I will teach you, and you will listen.” He drew his own sword back out.

  The rest of the day William worked with Alacron, learning simple ways of using the weight of his sword to his benefit, until he became stronger. They went through different stances and parries. They
took occasional breaks, because the sword was tired William quickly. He used that down time to watch Katrina work with her bow. She was a natural. By the end of the day she was grouping arrows right around the bull’s eye.

  Juarez already had some skill with a blade apparently, and remained busy dueling with his trainer all afternoon. Their swords were like lighting, flashing and clashing at every speed and angle.

  William was at a disadvantage. He was a very good shot with a rifle, but what good was marksmanship if there were no firearms in this world.

  William wondered how effective Katrina’s arrows would be in battle, considering their lower velocity, but he watched one of her projected arrows impact the target and exploded with energy. He suddenly felt very bad for anyone caught in her bow sights.

  At the end of a long and rigorous day the group retired to the barracks, and were able to explore it for the first time. There was a men’s and a women’s wing for obvious reasons. The bathing facilities were much nicer than the ones at the recruit’s barracks as well. Water flowed like a waterfall from ducts on the walls into wide pools scented with jasmine, lilac, and other aromas William didn’t recognize. The bath water was hot, motivating William and Juarez to linger and soak in it.

  William carried his sword with him everywhere, refusing to let it out of his site. Juarez decided to leave his in the meditation chamber on a weapon rack next to the fresh linen closet. William grabbed his sword, and swung it around as they walked down the hallway.

  The group met again in the common area where they found Katrina seated down at a piano. She was playing a soothing melody. Her speed on the piano keys matched her speed on the training grounds, and sound filled the room. There were other Guardians around, listening intently and applauded her when she finished playing the very somber piece.

  “When did you learn to play like that?” William asked.

  “I’m two hundred and fifty two human years old,” Katrina said, smiling. “I have been in this world for a long time. I got bored.” She looked up at William, starting another tune without looking at her hands.

  “I guess I keep forgetting how long you all have been here,” William admitted. “Why did you finally choose to become a soldier again? Wasn’t dying in battle once enough?”

  Katrina looked at him and then back at the keys, evidently trying to decide whether she was going to answer.

  “I guess I have just been having some bad dreams during my meditation in the past year or so. I felt like it was a good idea to join,” she said finally, casually shrugging her shoulders without missing a beat in the tune.

  Her song evolved, and William looked over at Juarez, who sat reading a book.

  “How old are you, priest?” William said, plopping down on a sofa across from him. Juarez looked over his book, and smiled.

  “Had my four hundred and twenty sixth birthday a few weeks ago. Of course that would be in human years,” he said, before going back to his book.

  “Yeah, time here is a little weird,” William said. “Let me see if I got this right. Fifty seconds in a minute. One hundred minutes in an hour. One hundred hours in a day. One hundred days in a month, and ten months in a year.”

  “That seems so artificial.”

  Just then Samuel entered the room, and chimed in. “Well time doesn’t really pass here though, does it? So essentially it is artificial.”

  “Hey, Sam. Getting settled in?” William asked.

  Samuel nodded, and continued, “What I want to know is, who made the sun set exactly fifty hours every day?”

  Juarez looked up from his book again. “It would have to have been the Archons, correct?” he asked.

  “No, there are men called the keepers. They control the details of the world and make it seem more like Earth,” Ulifrig offered.

  The conversation continued like this for a while until Samuel finally looked at William, who was balancing his sword on two fingers.

  “The sword of Othin all father,” Samuel said, slowly eyeing the weapon.

  William let the sword tip sideways and caught it very carefully, before looking at Samuel.

  “That’s what I was told.”

  “Supposedly the spear Gungnir was lost in the war of souls when the two Archons destroyed one another. I can see why people must have thought it lost if it turned into a sword,” Samuel said in wonder.

  “So it is true then? Your trainer today said that it can change form, into any weapon?” Juarez asked, his book now forgotten in his lap.

  In fact, the whole group watched William, anticipating his response.

  “Look. I don’t really know how it works, okay? I just got it today,” William said.

  “Well, go on try to change its shape,” Katrina retorted playfully.

  Great, William thought to himself. He looked around, growing more uncomfortable as the group continued to watch him closely. He gripped the blade, and looked at it. It shimmered in the light of the torches and candles lighting the room, but otherwise didn’t move or change.

  “Go, go, gadget spear!” William shouted, bursting into laughter.

  His joke was wasted. The others stared, eyebrows raised, or mouths open. None in the group could have possibly known that the joke pertained to a cartoon television show that he had watched as a kid. He sighed, and focused. The blade was shimmering, and when William looked closer, it looked as if it was actually moving, as though the blade was made from flowing water.

  His eyes widened, and he felt the handle of the blade become soft and malleable. It felt like it was going to slip through his fingers, but he had a clear picture in his mind, and held it there. It was the spear that had been pointed at him so many times during his first few hours in Archonia.

  He clearly saw the long golden tip serrated on one side, and bound with golden rings for strength. Its long pole shone of silver and white, the runes etched into its length gleaming.

  Katrina shouted, interrupting his thoughts, “Now look at you! The one with the tainted soul is chosen to carry the blade of an Archon.”

  William looked back at his hands, taking in the magnificent spear that had previously been his sword. It was roughly the same color and weight of his sword, but looked far more impressive.

  “That was easy,” William said, swinging the spear around. As he did he accidentally hit a vase that was on a table nearby, shattering it to pieces.

  “Maybe you should learn to use a spear before you go swinging it around, Amigo,” Juarez said, laughing with the others.

  William joined in on the laughter, but noticed that Ulifrig was not laughing. He caught Samuel’s attention and motioned towards Ulifrig, who seemed very distant as he thumbed through a stack of parchment.

  “Ulifrig, is everything ok?” Samuel asked, sitting down next to him and placing a hand gently on his upper arm. The room grew quiet.

  “Have you all heard about the strange disappearances and rumors of beast sightings?” he asked everyone.

  They all looked to one another, most simply shrugging or looking confused. William, however, remembered something Angelica had mentioned to him briefly.

  “I heard someone talk about it, but I kind of dismissed it. There has been peace in this world for thousands of years, right? This is probably just people trying to get a rise out of the crowd,” William replied tentatively.

  “I have kin that live up north in the wetlands. I received word today that my great, great grandniece has gone missing.”

  “Ulifrig, I’m sure she is okay. She is probably just branching out on her own. Archonia is a vast place to explore,” Katrina said.

  “But without telling anyone? And so suddenly? My kin are very close. This would not have happened without anyone’s knowledge. I’m sorry Katrina,” Ulifrig said darkly.

  “I wonder if the military has gotten involved,” William said.

  “They dispatched two measly sentinels to aid in the search. They could not even spare an oracle or adjudicator. Like there is anything else for them to
do in this day and age,” Ulifrig said, rising from his cushy seat and crumpling the parchment into a tiny ball and hurling it at the wall.

  Samuel continued to comfort the large man as they both exited the room.

  “Well that kind of sucks,” William said.

  “We have to keep our ears closer to the ground,” Juarez stated.

  William and his friends spent the rest of the evening watching William transform his sword into all sorts of different weapons.

  * * *

  The new recruits spent the rest of the month honing their skills with their own unique weapons. The trainers worked rigorously with them, providing new challenges each day. Katrina worked on firing while running, which she was not nearly as good at. The trainers told her to slow down, but William doubted that slow was in her vocabulary.

  Juarez was busy learning to deflect projectiles with his rapier. A group of trainers threw stones at him, some moving faster than bullets. This was a hard and painful lesson, especially if he was not able to deflect the stones. William was getting the raw end of the deal. He had four trainers now, each of them wielding a different weapon. One had a bow, one a sword and shield, another had a hammer, and the last one a spear.

  They went slowly so as not to overwhelm him, but their attacks were still very fast, and it was all he could do to defend himself. He was still not proficient with shape shifting his weapon, especially on the fly, but this was his greatest trick, and obviously one that the trainers were pushing him to learn.

  The man with the hammer attacked, and his sword turned into a shield, which he held above his head. The hammer recoiled as it hit Gungnir as if the weapon fought back on its own, allowing William time to turn it into a mace, and bash the trainer in the stomach. Seamlessly the weapon transformed back into a shield, deflecting an arrow shot by another trainer.