by Andrew Rowe
“I will be with you soon. I will stop him this time.” I shivered as I spoke.
We both knew that I had lied.
She broke free from our embrace, turning her eyes up to meet mine. I’d seen so many things in those eyes... laughter, anger, joy. I had never seen such complete despair.
I couldn’t bear to meet that gaze. I looked away, turning to the young man at my left side. His long hair was drenched, his legendary blade resting unsheathed against his right shoulder. He’d come such a long way from the boy I’d helped to raise. His skill had surpassed my own, though he would never admit it. Perhaps it would be enough.
His gaze was filled with determination. “Take care of the rest of them while I am away,” I implored him.
Vel nodded, turning his head toward my love. “Let’s go, Ria. The others are waiting.”
She gripped my hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before she followed Vel deeper into the copse of trees that lay ahead.
Good. I had worried she would refuse to leave me behind.
I turned and faced the entrance to the glade. I did not have to wait long before he appeared.
He was unarmored. He’d long ago reached the point where no hide or metal could match the toughness of his skin, and eschewing the ceremonial suit he wore on most occasions meant that he wanted every advantage he could employ.
His eyes glimmered gold in the forest’s low light.
I shivered again as I saw the weapon sheathed at his side. The hilt resembled the base of a tree, a bright green gem clutched between its roots. As he drew the weapon, I observed the runes on the surface of the black metal blade. One rune for every life he had taken with it, whether they were man or god.
There were countless thousands of runes on the surface of that blade.
I set my hand on my own saber, drawing the familiar weapon and raising it in salute. I felt the familiar aura of frost stretch across my skin, hardening into armor. It was almost unbreakable.
My opponent raised his own weapon to mirror my salute. “I have long anticipated this meeting.”
My grip tightened on the hilt of my weapon, my heart hammering in my chest. “So have I.” My voice was as harsh as gravel from many years of shouting battlefield commands. I was an old man, but far younger than my rival in spite of appearances. His kind would never feel the weight of mortality on their bones.
“Then let us begin.”
My rival flashed forward in a blur, his blade forward in a deadly thrust. The world froze around me, raindrops pausing in their fall.
Corin, open your eyes.
I drifted backward, my perspective shifting as I saw the scene from above. I was no longer the old swordsman, simply a distant viewer from the skies above.
I saw other figures below, the woman he loved among them, traversing the forest with haste. They headed toward a distant, shining light, something vast. Something beyond my ability to perceive, contained within the form of a many-faceted gem.
Awaken.
The world around shivered and shattered, leaving only darkness.
***
“Corin, wake up!”
I felt someone squeeze my hand. I shivered, drawing in a sharp breath, and my eyes fluttered open.
My vision cleared. My next breath was relief. It was Sera that was holding my hand.
I was in my own bed. I had no recollection of how I’d gotten there. “Mmf,” was all I managed to say. Sera was sitting in a chair beside me. She had deep bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days. It was oddly dark in the room.
“You were having some kind of nightmare.” She lifted something off my forehead, a wet towel, I realized belatedly. She replaced it with a new one.
The details of the dream were already fading. “Not a nightmare,” I murmured. “Not exactly.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I was fairly confident it wasn’t a standard dream. I’d had plenty of adventure dreams before, but the voice that I’d heard... I recognized it. I’d only heard it once before.
It was the same voice that had spoken to me when I’d gained my attunement.
Certainly, the mind was capable of fabricating such things... but I didn’t think so. The details of the encounter were lost to me in my waking state, but it didn’t feel like the product of my ailing mind, nor even some sort of prophetic vision.
It felt like a memory.
But a memory of who?
Selys, the goddess of the towers?
A possibility, but I didn’t think so. Initially, at least, the vision seemed to come from the perspective of that old swordsman. I didn’t recognize him. A previous wielder of the sword, perhaps?
Lars had said that the sword, Selys-Lyann, was cursed. I’d assumed he’d been spinning a tale to make a sale, but what if there had been some truth to it?
I shivered, and not because of the cold.
My eyes scanned the room. “Where’s the sword I was wearing?”
Sera frowned. “That’s the first thing you’re going to ask? Seriously?” She retracted her hand from mine to cross her arms. “It’s under your bed. Professor Vellum left strict instructions not to let you use it. You need to talk to her once you’re recovered.”
Sitting up took significant effort. My back felt like someone had stuck a basket of needles in it.
Sera ruined my accomplishment immediately by pushing me back down with a firm hand. “Stay. You’re not going anywhere for a while.”
From the pain that was building in my temples, I knew she was right. I lifted a hand to rub my forehead. “What happened?”
“A better question.” Normally, she’d be smirking with a line like that, but not the slightest hint of mirth traced across her lips. “You almost died.”
I blinked. I almost died?
That took a few moments to process.
“How? Wasn’t that just a simulation?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, and you still somehow managed to almost kill yourself. How typical.”
When I didn’t reply for a moment, she elaborated with an exasperated wave of her hand. “You somehow managed to wreath yourself in ice that spread on its own. Then you lost consciousness. You were lucky the tests are closely watched. They pulled you out almost immediately. Thing is, the ice started spreading again as soon as they melted it off you. Vellum apparently woke you up long enough to get you to toss the sword aside, which stopped the effect from propagating further.”
Oh, is that what that was?
“Uh, oops?”
She raised her arm. I flinched back, but the blow I’d expected never came.
Instead, she slipped her arm under me and gave me a crushing hug, burying her head in my chest.
“Never do that again.”
I felt my hands quiver at the unexpected contact. I... wasn’t used to being touched in a way that didn’t involve violence, at least not in the last few years.
It helped that it was Sera. I pictured when we’d held hands as children. It had been perfectly normal, even comforting, when we were little. I hadn’t associated touching with pain back then.
I took a deep breath and, slowly, returned the hug. “I’m sorry that I worried you.”
I was surprised to find that I actually meant it.
After three years away from everyone, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have friends.
I pulled her closer, feeling her tense, then relax at the gesture.
“I’m okay,” I said.
That part, unfortunately, was a lie.
***
The next morning, I woke to find Sera sleeping in the chair next to my bed. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
I’d been raised to expect Sera to be my retainer. Looking after me while I slept, to make sure I didn’t somehow manage to get myself killed? Classic retainer business.
Now that she was presumably the family heir?
Honestly, she’d have been better off if I had died. Less competition that way.
&nbs
p; I wouldn’t have expected her to think in those terms, of course. As practical as Sera could be, I never expected her to make a utility calculation about the value of my life.
Was she actually thinking of me like a sibling now?
I didn’t know what to make of that.
I missed Tristan. I missed him desperately, and I was still firm in my resolve that I’d find a way to get him back.
And when he was back, we’d rebuild our family. He’d always been the unifying one, the one who was effortlessly charming and limitlessly talented. Mother and Father had been so proud of him.
But as much as I loved my brother, he’d never been the gentle sort. He wouldn’t have been watching over me here. He’d have assumed that coddling me would have just encouraged future weakness.
That was my father’s philosophy, and we’d both been trained to believe it completely. I didn’t start to have my doubts until after Tristan was gone.
I was grateful that Sera had never been raised with those values.
Her eyes flickered open as I sat up, awkwardly dislodging my covers. I was feeling vastly better, but Sera looked wretched. I doubted she’d gotten much sleep.
“Hmm?” She mumbled. “What time is it?”
I shrugged at her. “Don’t know. It’s Wyddsay, though, unless I slept through more than one day.”
“You didn’t.”
“Then you can sleep in. No classes to worry about.”
She nodded blearily, and I pulled back the bed’s covers and pointed a hand. “In.”
Sera grumbled as she shifted from chair to bed, and I helped pull off her boots. I wasn’t going to let those filthy things into my sheets; I had standards. Next, I eased her into the covers. She mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and then turned away. I saw the slightest crack of a smile on her face as she began to drift off. She was fast asleep in moments.
***
Professor Vellum wasn’t quite as friendly with her morning greeting. From her grimace when I walked into the office, I knew I was in for a lecture.
“Ah, it’s the prodigy of idiots.”
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “And a good morning to you too, professor. As always, your kind words bring warmth to my frigid heart.”
She folded her arms. “Don’t you snark at me, boy. There’s only one seat for snark in this office, and I’ve had it claimed for quite some time.”
“I suppose a duel of wits for the chair is out of the question.”
Vellum chortled. “Please, child. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘death of a thousand cuts’? That’s what the last fool who challenged me got, though the truth was that he could only comprehend one jab in those thousand. You wouldn’t last a round.”
“Don’t attribute to inability what more rightfully would be called disinterest. When the time comes for our contest, I won’t need a thousand strikes to match your own. A single one will suffice.”
She laughed in earnest this time. “A bold claim.” She waved a hand as though she were clearing smoke and grew serious once more. “Though not amusing enough to make up for your little stunt in the test. Now, sit your too-clever rear. We have actual business to discuss.”
Aww, but that was just getting entertaining.
I lifted some books off one of the chairs across the desk from Vellum’s, set them on the floor, and then took a seat. Belatedly, I noticed the top book’s title, Runes of Frost. Interesting.
“So, nearly killed myself, I hear?”
Vellum took her own seat. “I understand that your nonchalance is a way of deflecting from real concern, but I need you to take this seriously. Yes, you very nearly killed yourself. That is not a matter for jest.”
A corner of my mouth turned downward, but I nodded. “I understand,” I told her.
“I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t have done it.” She was matter-of-fact, neither teasing or scolding in her tone. “Set the sword on the table, and draw it out enough to expose the runes.”
I followed her instructions. It was only at that point that I realized that the feather I’d attached to the handle, the one meant to block the sword’s supposed curse... was gone. My lips tightened as I considered possibilities for how that could have happened.
She raised a finger, pointing at the four runes. “How many of these runes do you understand?”
I glanced it over, thinking about my research, and pointed to one of them. “This is some sort of advanced variation on an ice rune. The others... I’m less sure about.”
“And you still felt it was wise to bring this weapon into a simulation.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have any evidence to indicate it was dangerous.”
“You didn’t have any evidence.” She raised her hands to shield her eyes. “I will not demean your intelligence again, but you must consider this seriously. You did not have any evidence it was dangerous because you did not understand the weapon at all.”
That felt a little unfair, but she did have a point. “I’ve practiced with it, both alone and with Teft in dueling class. Also, I heard a bit about it from a former climber, and took some precautions.”
“Oh? And what sort of precautions did you take?”
“I bought a gryphon feather to counter the curse on it?” I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly.
Vellum leaned across the table, glaring. “You mean to tell me that you brought a weapon that you believed to be cursed into a test?”
I winced. “I thought the feather was sufficient to handle it?”
Heh. Handle it. Unintentional puns are the best. I didn’t laugh, though. Her glare was a little too intense for that.
“You... didn’t happen to find my feather, did you?” I asked hesitantly.
“Oh yes, I found the remains of a feather,” she said, her voice pleasant. Had her eye twitched? “Frozen and blackened. It crumbled to dust when your friend attempted to pick it up.”
Well. That was more than a little foreboding.
“Okay, I admit I may have miscalculated.”
“You were unwise. But, in fairness, so was I.” Vellum sat back in her chair. “I saw the sword on your hip when you first visited, and I failed to recognize it. That oversight was as great as your own, and for that, I apologize.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I... accept your apology?”
She nodded amiably. “Good, good. Now, you’ll also accept some rules.” There was steel in that final sentence.
Oh, that sounds bad.
She raised a finger. “One. You will not bring that weapon into any further simulations.”
It was a brutal restriction — the sword was one of my key assets — but it made sense.
She waited for my nod before she lifted a second finger. “Two. You will not train with the sword without my direct supervision. We will schedule lessons for you to learn how to wield it properly.”
That was going to slow me down considerably, but I still nodded again.
Third finger. “Three. You will read this book on empathic weapons.” She slid a book across the desk. “I expect you to study it closely if you expect to use the weapon during your visit to the tower later this year.”
I blinked. “Empathic weapons?”
Vellum nodded, pointing at the fourth rune. “This is a spirit rune. It is among the rarest enchantments to find on an object, and among the most dangerous. When you wished to shield yourself from fire, the sword responded. It continued to attempt to shield you even after you lost consciousness. This rune is why.”
I blinked. “You’re saying the sword is intelligent?”
“Perhaps intelligent is too strong a word. Without a detailed study, I cannot say if the sword is self-aware. It does, however, have a spirit bound to it, and that spirit is bound to act according to your will. This gives the weapon tremendous potential power... but if misused, it could easily be fatal to you or your allies.”
I remembered a flash of the dream, the swordsman holding this same blade. W
as the spirit tied to the sword his own? Perhaps that explained the dream. I could have been seeing one of the weapon’s memories.
I hadn’t seen how that memory had ended yet, but I was pretty sure I knew where it had been going.
“Okay. I understand your restrictions and accept them.” I pointed at the exposed surface. “Can you explain the other two runes?”
Vellum looked where I had indicated. “One of them is an extremely advanced rune for interfacing between sword and wielder. The fourth rune,” her brows knit together, “I confess I don’t recognize. A rare event, I assure you.”
Interesting. “Do you think it poses an additional threat?”
“Everything we do not understand is a potential threat, Corin. It is, however, also a potential advantage. I will write the rune down and search the archives in my own free time. My curiosity would permit no less.”
I saw the gesture for what it was. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Now that you’ve been thoroughly chastised, I suspect you owe your friends a visit. They were quite concerned.”
Friends?
Oh, she meant my team members. I hadn’t really processed most of them as friends yet, other than Patrick. I still wasn’t sure I could call Marissa a friend; I barely knew her. Jin was closer, but he was more of a business associate. Probably.
“I’ll do that, but another question first.”
She waved for me to continue, a weary look on her face. “And what other nonsense did you have in mind?”
“Without the sword, I’ll be at a significant disadvantage in future tests. You mentioned you’d teach me ‘real enchanting’. I’d like to get started on that as soon as possible, so I can build some sort of replacement. And, once I’ve talked to the others, I’d like to start building equipment for them as well.”
“I understand that you’ve already made a number of objects of dubious value for one of them.”
“Those were commissions at his request,” I replied. “But, having seen how challenging this test was, I’d like to make some other items on my own initiative to help everyone succeed. There are a couple of problems, however.”
“Problems?”
“First is my lack of knowledge, which I hope you’ll help me address. Second is a lack of funds.”