by Andrew Rowe
This sword radiated something pure, something that felt benevolent. I wasn’t quite sure how to react to that.
For the first time, I had a sincere moment of doubt about my worthiness to even be there.
Only a moment, though.
I put my hand on the hilt of the sword. Since it was sheathed in the blue crystal, it was elevated to a point where it was easy to reach while I was still in a standing position.
I took a breath and tugged on the hilt.
Nothing happened. It didn’t budge in the slightest.
I frowned, pulling a little bit harder, but it didn’t move. That was unusual, because even in my still-exhausted state, I was strong enough to rip an object through ordinary stone without much difficulty.
I knelt down, taking a closer look. It was only at that point that I saw what looked like runes inside the surface of the crystal. I didn’t recognize them, but I presumed they were responsible for whatever enchantment was keeping the sword in place.
Previously, I’d assumed that the inscription below had referred to the challenges I’d already completed. Strength for fighting Reika and maybe pushing through the wind on the bridge. Bravery was easy enough — one of my opponents had been a seemingly literal manifestation of my fears. Insight for making it through the initial woods, and maybe for finding the glowing bridge.
I considered that maybe I’d been thinking about it incorrectly, though, and that those traits were being tested at the sword itself. Or that they’d already been tested and this was just another phase.
It was also possible I’d already been tested and deemed unworthy, but that wasn’t worth worrying about.
I looked around at the stone platform again for anything that looked like it might represent a test.
There were three metallic pillars, roughly waist-high, at the back and far sides of the platform. At the top of each was a clear crystal sphere. They also had metallic plaques on them, inscribed with unfamiliar runes like the ones on the blue crystal. After a moment of comparison, I determined that the runes on each were slightly different, but that didn’t help much if I couldn’t identify them.
Was that part of the test? Some sort of pattern recognition challenge, corresponding to the trait of insight? Was I supposed to do something with them in a specific sequence?
Since the globes were transparent and seemingly hollow inside, I wondered if maybe I was supposed to reflect Dawnbringer’s light on them somehow, or maybe fill them with something.
Alternatively, if strength was involved, maybe I was supposed to carry them somewhere? I checked, and they seemed firmly affixed to their respective pillars.
I also took a brief look at the symbol on the original plaque that depicted three spheres. The indentations were far too small for these spheres to fit in them, so it didn’t seem like I was supposed to break the spheres off and slot them in or anything like that.
I tried closing my eyes again, wondering if that might give me a hint. Dawnbringer was still bright enough to see with my eyes closed, but it wasn’t illuminating anything else in a conspicuous way.
I looked for any sort of levers or switches on the sides of the platform that might rotate the central crystal and sword, thinking that the hexagonal shape might indicate that it could be turned. I didn’t find anything.
I tried shoving the hexagonal crystal directly to see if I could rotate it that way, but it didn’t budge.
I tried pushing on the globes in several directions. Nothing.
In a moment of frustration, I tried to see if I could fill one of the globes with fire, thinking that might fit the theme. My flames washed over the globe harmlessly.
I seriously considered just hitting one to see if that did anything, but I was concerned I might break it.
After several minutes of frustrated prodding and poking, I walked back to the sword and pressed my hands against the blue crystal.
It didn’t register to my senses as stone, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. Many tough crystalline structures corresponded to what we called the Dominion of Construction or sometimes the Dominion of Density back in my homeland. It was the source of some of the hardest known materials, and this crystal might have fit that description if it was meant to trap a magic sword in place.
I was sometimes able to sense and manipulate dominions that were adjacent to mine to a very limited degree, but when I pushed at the crystal with my mind and commanded it to change, it didn’t respond.
Some of the symbols within the crystal did respond, though, glowing brighter for just an instant. I didn’t know if that was good sign or a terrible one. I hoped it was just the magic of the stone resisting my own attempt at casting a spell.
I really didn’t want to deal with angry forest spirits showing up and complaining about me messing with their sacred rock.
I considered waiting for nightfall to see if that illuminated any further options, but I was rapidly running out of patience.
I checked to see if there was anything else outside of the platform that might serve as a hint, but I came up with nothing. There was a single path leading beyond the grove with the sword.
If there had been three more paths, I might have expected three more challenges beyond the sword with the necessity to backtrack to it, but with only a single path I assumed that would either loop me back to Reika’s cave or take me to the forest’s exit.
So, that left me with a couple options. Either I could try something more extreme, or I could simply walk away.
The latter approach was not a real option, at least not to me. I wasn’t giving up on this that easily. Not when the sword was literally close enough to touch.
I walked back to the platform and tried something else.
“I feel silly for saying this, but, uh, hello Dawnbringer. You can call me Keras. I’d like to pull you out of this crystal now, if you’d let me. Would that be okay?”
I’d been told the sword was intelligent. I didn’t know if that was true, or if so, how its senses worked. I didn’t know if it could see me or hear my voice, or if it was in any way adjudicating its own fate. But it seemed polite to ask an intelligent weapon if it wanted to leave, and I regretted not having done it sooner.
I waited a few moments. There was no response.
“I’m going to try to pull you out of the crystal again. If you have any way of hearing me and do not want to be removed, please let me know somehow.”
I put my hands on the hilt of the sword and pulled again.
Dawnbringer didn’t budge.
I sighed, talking again while I had my hands on the sword. “Dawnbringer, I’m going to try pulling harder now. Please let me know if I’m hurting you or if you want me to stop.”
I waited just a moment to listen for a reply, but I didn’t hear anything.
Body of Stone.
My muscles had already been taxed significantly by the bridge and the fight, but the light of Dawnbringer’s presence had rejuvenated me enough that I felt comfortable with using one more spell.
I pulled hard.
Inside the crystal, runes began to shimmer and glow. I took that as encouragement and pulled harder, putting my back and legs into it.
The sword remained firmly in place.
Release Body of Stone.
Body of Iron.
The runes inside the crystal glowed brighter and brighter.
I pulled until my muscles burned, then finally released my grip, gritting my teeth and massaging my aching hands.
I took a few ragged breaths.
Release Body of Iron.
I didn’t know how I was meant to prove my worth. Maybe whatever bravery, strength, and insight I thought I possessed weren’t what whoever had created the trials was looking for.
But I didn’t place much value on the intent of anyone who would keep a sapient sword trapped in a crystal for a decade, waiting for someone with the arbitrary characteristics they wanted to pull it out.
If the sword had told me that it had wan
ted to remain there, or that it had judged me unworthy, I’d have walked away. Maybe my inability to pull the sword out of the crystal was an indication of that, but I didn’t think so. Everyone I’d spoken to — Reika, the spirt of fear, and the elderly forest spirit — had indicated there was some sort of higher power adjudicating this, not the sword itself.
And that was why, when faced with the riddle of Dawnbringer’s destiny, I drew the sword that I so often hesitated to use.
I felt the destructive aura wrapped around the blade sing as the sword was freed from the containment of its scabbard, the essence within yearning to burn my enemies to nothing.
I pressed down on that aura as I had practiced each day, folding and confining it to the edges of the silvery surface, rather than letting it escape outward.
And with the utmost care, I slashed the sacred rock.
My blade met resistance, which was a rarity. The destructive aura around the Sae’kes tore through most substances and spells like paper, and I knew that it was capable of far more if I was ever willing to stop restraining its power.
Sparks flew as the sword and crystal met, the runes within the crystal glimmering brighter and brighter...until they died at once, and my blade slipped forward, cutting through crystal.
I reduced my force immediately, not wanting to risk cutting Dawnbringer itself. Clashing two artifact swords against each other was always an uncertain prospect at best, and I had no intention of dealing Dawnbringer any harm.
With the runes in the crystal dark, my sword cut easily through the remaining crystal. I moved my blade slowly, cutting away sections of material until only a thin layer remained around Dawnbringer’s blade.
Then I cut downward, freeing that section of crystal from the ground entirely.
The sword teetered, no longer supported by the ground, and I caught the hilt with my off-hand.
I heard a voice in my mind, as clear as if someone was right next to me. I could feel that the origin point was the sword itself.
In spite of being prepared for this possibility, I was startled enough that I nearly dropped it.
Instead, I carefully sheathed the Sae’kes at my hip, then concentrated on the new sword in my hands. Dawnbringer’s blade was still sheathed in a thin layer of crystal, but that was a problem that could be addressed later.
“Hello,” I said aloud.
I winced at the sudden noise. “Easy there. It’s okay.”
I blinked. “Amulets?”
I glanced from side-to-side, sheepishly. “I, uh, didn’t know about any amulets. I may have sort of...broken the rock?”
“Sorry? I’m not from around here. I tried asking you if you wanted to leave before I broke it, but you didn’t answer.”
<...You did?>
I nodded. Then, since I wasn’t sure if they could see things. “Yeah. I tried talking to you a few times. I didn’t know anything about any amulets, sorry. I figured there was a puzzle to get you out, but I couldn’t figure it out. I tried a bunch of stuff with the orbs on the sides, but it didn’t seem to do anything.”
Purely...decorative.
I sighed.
...Of course they were.
“Listen, I’m sorry that I didn’t retrieve you the standard way. But if it’s any consolation, I did go through all the challenges in the forest, and I’m pretty sure those served as tests for the characteristics that I was supposed to prove.”
“I don’t really care what the goddess thinks.”
I raised the sword, looking at it more closely. The sword’s light seemed to have dimmed somewhat, and that made it easier for me to see the runes etched across the weapon’s surface. There were dozens of them, more than I’d ever seen on an object. I recognized a few of them from my homeland, but others were entirely foreign.
“Whether or not I’m worthy should be up to you, not someone else.”
I nodded. “You’re intelligent. That means you get to make decisions, including who you want to work with.”
<...I don’t know... If you didn’t get the amulets, how can I know if you’re a good person?>
“Okay. First off, I don’t think three random characteristics are in any way indicative of what makes a ‘good’ person in the first place. There are plenty of people who are strong or brave without using their abilities for the benefit of others. But if you’re considering those three characteristics to be strict requirements, I still think I can prove I’ve demonstrated them.”
“Well, consider how I got you out of the crystal. You mentioned that it was shielded by enchantments by the goddess herself, correct?”
“And you’d consider breaking an enchantment by the goddess to be difficult, right?”
“And yet I broke it. I’d consider breaking something that’s supposed to unbreakable to be a pretty good indication of strength, wouldn’t you?”
I sighed. “No, I’m not the Tyrant in Gold, nor do I work for him. In fact, I’d consider him an enemy, if he is who I think he is.”
“Hm?”
I nodded. “Bravery is tougher to prove within the context of this test alone, but consider that I came all the way out here — through all the tests and trials of this forest — with no prior knowledge of what I was up against. I’ve never heard of the amulets you’re talking about. I had no way of solving this test correctly. But I tried all sorts of things, and I didn’t just give up and walk away. I knew there were risks if I tried to break the enchantments on your crystal. I could have triggered backlash by breaking the runes and injured myself, or angered the goddess or the spirits of the forest...”
“And yet I did it anyway, knowing that I risked divine retribution for my insolence.” I might have played that last line up just a tad, but I was trying to sell it to someone who was clearly not used to this kind of style of debate. “I’d consider that brave, wouldn’t you?”
Resh. She had a point. “...I also fought a manifestation of my fears on the way here and then made friend
s with him afterward?”
<...You did what with the nightmare spirit?>
Is that what that was?
That explains a few things.
“Yeah. He seemed nice.”
I grumbled a little bit, but conceded. “Okay. Let’s talk about insight. I didn’t have the tools necessary to solve the puzzle of drawing you from the sword in the way it was intended, so I tried things until I discovered another route that worked.”
At that point, I thought I heard the slightest amount of teasing in her tone. “I mean, I could put it back together for you and put you back, if that’s what you really want. Maybe then I’d prove that it was bravery and not just stubbornness...but, of course, then you’d be stuck back—”
I took one more glance down at the crystal, raising an eyebrow. I was pretty sure that was not how any of that worked.
But I was vaguely horrified that I was wrong, and that I may have accidentally just murdered a geriatric sacred crystal formation. “That rock wasn’t alive, was it?”
<...Pfft. You should hear yourself. So serious. No, silly, you didn’t just kill an intelligent rock.> And then after a pause.
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I was actually starting to get a little worried about that.”
I shook my head, now slightly more confident that the sword had a way of sensing that.