Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  The dome was indeed mostly hollow on the inside, but filled halfway with white sand. Bladeborn circled slowly and silently downward, to where a large dot of light on the sand came in from the opening at the dome’s top. As he got closer, he saw a giant-sized silvery hammer gleaming in the light. He landed at the edge of the light-circle as quietly as possible. He returned to his real appearance, and reached his hand into the light to get the hammer which he intended to stuff into his sack of endless space.

  But when Bladeborn grasped the hammer, he heard a resonant, insistent voice echoing in the chamber.

  “BLADEBORN...” The icy presence of the voice struck fear into his heart. “Bladeborn, leave now and you shall live a long, normal life. Stay and you shall not. It... is... your... choice.”

  Bladeborn said, “I must take the hammer first, and nothing you can do will stop me...” Bladeborn stepped fully into the light to grab the handle of the hammer. He just wanted to get it into his bag!

  But somehow, he had not noticed the figure right one the other side of the dot of light. It took one step forward just a bit closer to the hammer than Bladeborn was.

  Now in the light Bladeborn saw a tall, hooded, caped figure, encased in elaborate silver armor that defined his frame, like skin. The armor had tracery patterns shifting all over its surface, and the greenish mist of the dead swirled about it. The face beneath the cowl was obscured by shadow. Bladeborn knew it was the Judge of the Dead, and he shivered in awe. He was in the presence of a demi-god, and he had to steal its most prized possession!

  The Judge of the Dead spoke as though Bladeborn was not a thief, but an old friend. Still the voice of the Judge was cold, like a thousand final breaths all at once.

  “…It is odd, Bladeborn, the reason for your visit…That Veextra has put you up to this does not surprise me. He could use the hammer to dominate and Lord over all the Demons of the abyss. Veextra knows I would show no mercy if he came here. And so, you are here…The most selfish Elf-King in all memory has had a change of heart…he fights not to preserve his soul, but to help a people who nearly reject him…”

  Bladeborn heard the Judge of the Dead referring to the vision he had in the Elven Grove of Eternity, when he saw his past life as an King on Sand World.

  “YOU come as a protector…Interesting. Over the centuries some have come for POWER and some for KNOWLEDGE…”

  “I did not come here for such,” Bladeborn declared boldly, as he drew Nightslayer. “I came for the hammer.”

  The Judge of the Dead responded, “You, I thought, might someday arrive within my realm for answers to the mystery that is your unique soul…But that is NOT why you are here…These people of the Six Realms—you are convinced they are worth your life.”

  “They are,” Bladeborn said. He could sense that his Essence was almost fully returned. In a moment, he could grab the hammer, throw it into the Sack of Endless Space, and transform into a hawk. If all went well, He could get it to Veextra in half an hour.

  ~~Swordsman, what you intend to do is madness! Forget King Rosen and the rest of them! YOU MUST SURVIVE!~~

  Bladeborn didn’t know what to do, but he knew he was not going to give up on his people. There simply had to be a way!

  The giant figure that was Death took another step forward and snatched up his hammer.

  “Long have I waited for this,” the Judge of the Dead declared.” “Now is the hour of your FINAL JUDGEMENT!”

  Bladeborn backed away from the hammer and held Nightslayer at the ready. He grew to his maximum size, just short of sixteen feet tall. As he grew, Bladeborn leapt high, aiming a cut at the point where the cowl met the giant demi-god’s shoulders. Death easily ducked beneath Bladeborn’s Sword cut, picking up the hammer on the way past. When the battle between them was joined the silver-clad figure of the Judge spun about, and the cowl fell back, revealing a gaping, terrifying, yellow skull with hollow eyes.

  Bladeborn thought to the Sword of the Ancients, “Nightslayer, if you have ever guided my hand before, steady me now and speed me to victory! Give ALL you have to help me defeat this foe!”

  ~~I will use everything that ‘I am’ to aid you, Swordsman! But there is little hope here!~~

  Bladeborn crouched and sprang, cross-cutting at the Judge of the Dead to test the type of warrior he was. The attacks were blocked by swift movements of the hammer’s head, and the sound of the weapon’s clashing was bright and ear-splitting. Having used his best opening moves, Bladeborn prepared for a long struggle.

  Bladeborn’s size magnified his strength tenfold. Even with his increased height, Bladeborn, guided by the Sword, moved swiftly and assuredly. When he swung the Sword of the Ancients, its tip was beyond human sight. However, as fast as Bladeborn moved, Death was just a bit faster, deflecting the next series of attacks as easily as the first.

  The battle was going poorly for Bladeborn. It seemed he could not land a single strike. Bladeborn thought about the insanity of the situation. How could he possibly beat a demi-god, even the earthly avatar of a demi-god, who had existed for seventeen thousand years?

  There was no time for questions. He had to have the hammer. Bladeborn thought, “...Yes, I’m out-matched, but with delay tactics, I could still win the day... If I were seventeen-thousand years old, and busy endlessly judging the souls of the dead in the back of my mind, I would get tired very easily...”

  ~~Foolish swordsman! Your path has led us to a dead end! When you die, I shall be trapped here! ~~

  Bladeborn ignored Nightslayer’s negativity, and hoped the Sword which had chosen him would not fail him when he needed it most. He sprang forward aiming a wounding slash at his foe’s leg, thinking that perhaps Death would tire first in a drawn-out battle.

  To Bladeborn’s surprise his blow connected, smashing through the silvery heavy armor, almost sticking in the bony leg beneath. Then Death struck back, with a blow to the side of Bladeborn’s head that would have killed a man of lesser size and constitution. The strike delivered by Death's hammer sent Bladeborn reeling backward in pain. He recovered, shaking slightly from the ringing in his ears. He cut at the chest area of the figure of Death, Sword biting through the silvery armor. Death smashed Bladeborn’s shoulder, and Bladeborn again staggered back.

  This was not how Bladeborn had planned it. He considered a lightning bolt, but thought Death would certainly reflect or divert it. Magic was not an answer. It could not be so easy.

  Nightslayer was now silent. He continued circling, aiming timed strikes and the Judge of the Dead, using his plan to wear him down. He aimed a cut at Death’s hammer-arm and sliced into the gauntlet. Yet Death did not drop the hammer. Death swung and delivered a painful hit to Bladeborn’s knee, and then swung back again, with startling speed. Bladeborn took two more staggering steps back, and Death seized the chance to try to smash down at Bladeborn’s head with a mighty blow. Bladeborn dodged, and stabbed at the inside of Death’s right calf, poking clean through. Death came up with the Hammer into Bladeborn’s stomach.

  Bladeborn coughed out a terrible “UFF!” as the wind was knocked completely out of him. He was laid out flat, gasping for air, with no time to hesitate. He rolled to the side just as Death brought the hammer down with a crushing force that would have finished the combat, but it pounded into the white sand that was the dome’s floor with reverberating “THUMP!”

  Bladeborn arose, fighting now simply to catch his breath, and searched his psychic Essence, trying to find anything that would help him win. He sensed the immediate rush of Death’s mind, a totally overwhelming mental force, and feared he would be turned into to a thoughtless zombie if he were to attempt any kind of Essence-based battle.

  Bladeborn, now aware that the Judge could overwhelm him with Essence, wondered why it not yet to happened. Perhaps the Avatar of Death wished to defeat him with a physical fight, or maybe Death was just toying with him all along…

  He aimed a piercing strike at Death’s face but Death merely stepped back wards to avoid it.<
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  Although Bladeborn had scored some very brutal blows on the silvery armor the demi-god wore, Death was winning the fight. Bladeborn searched in the “room that was not a room” for an answer. Yet the way was blocked by some mighty force, as though the walls of the dome itself stifled that power.

  Death was not taken in by another feint Bladeborn made a moment later. The Judge struck back forcefully, if not accurately, yet Bladeborn parried the poorly aimed shot. Now it appeared Death was off balance and had its left flank open. But Bladeborn did not deliver the riposte. He backed off, waiting for something less obvious.

  Bladeborn had stood a long time now, and survived! Surely there was a way to win! Or had he so underestimated Death? Was Bladeborn so far out-skilled by this being that he could not tell what was going on in the battle or how he was faring? Bladeborn questioned his life up to that point: perhaps fate had finally put him in an impossible situation.

  He had been so lucky up till then. He began to doubt all his abilities as a warrior. A consuming fear coursed through his mind and body.

  Yet Bladeborn knew that he could not surrender! He had to fight on! He knew that every time Death was hit and wounded, the damage was returned equally.

  Bladeborn gasped out a challenge to his foe, “Death, I cannot defeat you. I will not yield to you. I must do this, battle you, but I will not win, and yet I will not surrender... And I will not die!!” Bladeborn laughed. Through the pain of a broken rib and a dislocated shoulder, Bladeborn smiled a grim, determined smile. Then he was amazed, because it seemed for a moment that Death smiled back.

  Bladeborn took a huge breath. All his pain, all his exhaustion was gone. Bladeborn’s energy was completely restored to him in that instant. The balance of his existence—from that moment—was changed.

  A calming voice issued from Death, “I am the Judge of the Dead, designated by the Gods above and below to decide the fates of mortal souls. But I speak now to you, Bladeborn, for you have completed the cycle. You now understand that which few mortal souls ever know. You cannot defeat Death.”

  The ancient demi-god seemed to allow Bladeborn a moment to think about his fate. Then Death continued, in the voice of unspoken numbers: “If you had cut my head off, I would have crushed your skull in the same instant. You would have lost your mortal form, but I would have instantly been reborn. My hammer always strikes with force equal to that which is used against me.”

  Bladeborn used Essence to return to normal size… it was easier to make the change than it had ever been. He wondered: had the Judge increased his Essence?

  Bladeborn felt different, but wasn’t sure how…

  “What has changed, Judge?” Bladeborn asked.

  The Avatar of Death intoned, “You have stated that you will not surrender, yet you will keep fighting. You were determined to cheat me for so many lifetimes, never learning what life was about. Through your inaction, much damage was done. However, during this incarnation, YOU have changed. This life I gave you has been about action. You have learned… And grown. It has been done against all odds… Despite the rules of the cosmos…”

  “Bladeborn could feel his wounds closing… and the utter exhaustion that was like a heavy yoke a minute ago was now ebbing away. He WAS stronger now!

  The Judge, in the same, mystical, sonorous voice spoke words of praise to Bladeborn: “Unequivocally, you are selected by the Gods to go onward into time… Thus, I grant you the boon of immortality... FREEDOM from death. You…are now immortal. I lift the burden of death from you, the curse of mortality, Bladeborn. You shall pass into eternity, never to age again. But be warned: this can work against you as well as in your favor. If you are careful, and your body is not destroyed or buried, you shall live until the end of time. Your unlimited ESSENCE will help you achieve what no one in our solar reach could hope for.”

  Bladeborn considered what the Judge of the Dead had decreed. Yet Bladeborn’s current situation was still the same. “I am—grateful—for this gift. Yet it is not the reward I seek. I need your hammer to save my people!”

  The Judge said, “You will not have my hammer, but fear not: I know of the suffering of you and your people. There is a way for you to be victorious without my heirloom. Your people will be safe from the Darkling trolls. The weightless, ‘floating’ wood you have built your transports from and burn for warmth can be turned against the trolls. Fire made from the weightless wood burns with a special light. Do not use your lanterns and glow globes for the rest of the passage to the yellow sun side of Draconia. Burn the wood. The fire is unbearable to them.”

  Bladeborn wondered: could such a simple solution be true? He decided that the words of the Judge of the Dead must be genuine. What reason would there be for lying?

  Still, Bladeborn’s problems were not solved. He asked, “...Is there a way to defeat the ghostly troll, Veextra?”

  Death said, “You have the eyes of another Demon Lord, one that you managed to conquer at the beginning of your time in the underworld. In your pouch are the eight, stone-making eyes of the Demon Lord of spiders, Vaay. Long did it dwell beneath the Six Valley Realms, planning to attack.

  Bladeborn shuddered, remembering the Demon spider.

  The Judge said, “The eyes can be used to finish Veextra. With care, place the eyes on the ground and call to the Ghostly Troll King. Expose him to their light. When Veextra is destroyed, the maps will be yours again.” Death said emphatically. “And the crown of the Ghost-Troll-King will be yours as well.”

  Bladeborn looked in disbelief at the indifferent, skull-faced visage of the Avatar of Death. In mere minutes of talking with the Judge of the Dead the impossible situation he had been in was resolved.

  “Taking Veextra’s Crown is necessary?”

  The Judge responded, “You can use the crown to prolong the life of a mortal, but it, too, is a blessing or a curse. The one who wears it never ages, unless it is removed.”

  Bladeborn knew he had to go. Yet he wished to ask a final question, “Can you tell me about the fate of the one called Queen Deocarla Procasseye?”

  “I know well of your love for her… Be assured that she has reached the Heavens. She sits are the right hand of Saint Morth, and her love for you is unending now. It always burned strong.”

  Bladeborn closed his eyes, and gave thanks to the gods of the heavens. He finally said, “Judge, my people need me to return to them. I will do as you say with the Darkling trolls and hope for the best.”

  Yet the Judge of the Dead had more to say, “Heed my words of advice, Bladeborn. When you and the dragon slew the messenger of the gods you know as an Avatar of Light, you did a great sin. To have averted the plans of the Gods of the Heavens in such a way counts against your soul. Those who do such evil end up in the Hells or the Abyss.”

  “I would undo it if I could,” Bladeborn said.

  The Avatar of Death went on recounting some of Bladeborn’s past, as though he was being judged, “You recently killed a titan and destroyed of the gears that work the basic functions at the center of the world… The death of that eternal being, the titan, and the breaking of the gears caused an entire continent on Draconia to sink beneath the ocean. The land of the ogres is gone.”

  “What?” Bladeborn said, in wonderment. “The killing of the titan sank a continent into the ocean? Aren’t the Gods angry for this?” Bladeborn asked.

  “In time, you will come to know what this change has wrought.” The Judge of the Dead claimed. “Titans have served long enough, and their deaths set them free. As for the ogres, when they began to lose their war against the Rhinolon, they turned away from their ancient, Abyssal deity. They had no divine advocate, none to speak for them…and so they have been lost in time….”

  “So, this was all some sort of ‘divine plan?’” Bladeborn questioned.

  “That is beyond my ability to explain. Someday you may understand.” Death turned away, and walked back to the circle of light. There, the Judge dropped his hammer and turned again to face Bl
adeborn.

  Nightslayer had been silent, but at this moment, the Sword’s voice sprang to life, ~~This is a unique chance, Swordsman! Ask the Judge of the Dead if the Emperor of the Rhinolon has displeased the Gods! Can the Rhinolon Emperor be defeated, and how?~~

  “I will not speak to your weapon, Bladeborn,” the Judge of the Dead declared, as if it could hear Nightslayer. “It is not even from this part of creation.”

  Death walked away from the light, and Bladeborn wondered what had so displeased the Judge. He was again alone in the great chamber at the center of the Greater City of the Dead, the hammer lying on the floor in the spot of light where it had been when he arrived.

  Bladeborn concentrated his psychic Essence to alter his form into that of a hawk. The transformation was easier than it had ever been. He felt incredible energy, like he had an innate inner health. Up and out of the dome he flew in his altered shape. Looking downward on the Greater City of the Dead and the souls of the recently deceased, he felt confident they were going to where they belonged. They did not seem so sorrowful to him now.

  He flew faster, thinking about how he would trick Veextra.

  Bladeborn landed on the ledge where Veextra had planned to meet him, and as quickly as possible changed into a human again. He guessed that the Demon Lord could arrive at any moment.

  Bladeborn removed the eyes of the spider Demon Vaay from his sack of endless space and set to arranging them in a semi-circle. He hoped they would project the right stone-making beams when the instant came.

  He had just finished when Veextra materialized from the rock face.

  “Where is the HAMMER, Bladeborn?” Veextra demanded. Bladeborn felt the stabbing psychic force at the part of his brain near his spine. Veextra seemed to be surprised when Bladeborn was still on his feet after the mental assault. Bladeborn knew his Essence was far greater than it had ever been.