Emeris' Journey

The sword was made of gold, but light as a feather. Inscribed along the blade was an ancient language, lost in time, one that nobody will ever uncover the secrets of, the letters hardly looking like letters at all, but more like abstract line art that dances across the blade.

I held the blade in wonder and awe as I swung it with practiced skill. A trail of smokeless fire followed its path. After a jab at a nearby dummy, the dummy was struck by lightning. Scared of the blade’s power, I put it back into its sheath. The sheath was made of black leather, and fourteen stones ran along the length of where the blade was hidden. The stones were like nothing I had seen before. They were pitch black, but they had blue thunder trapped within them, constantly moving and changing shape.

The hilt of the sword, I noted as I took my hand off of it, equaled the other components in every way. Made of the same gold-like material as the blade of the sword, the very back of it was encrusted with another rock with blue lightning. The smooth surface of the stone seemed nonexistent, as if it were a portal to another world.

I knew then, that I could not keep the sword. Nobody in this world could, as it was not from here. But where could I put it where nobody, for the rest of time, could wield its power? I eyed a pointed rock nearby, one not nearly big enough, but it sparked an idea. With the scabbard around my waist, I knew where I had to go.

The journey was long, and tiring. The road wore on, as even at the beginning, the mountain was only a dot on the horizon. I only had enough food to last half the journey, but I cut down my rations and made it work. Halfway through the trek, I had to sell my horse in order to buy more food. Slowly but surely, the largest mountain in Euthonia grew and grew and grew, until, weeks later; I stood at its base. I no longer had a single dollar or ounce of food in my pocket. The only thing of value in my possession was the sword, and there was no way I could sell that. All I could do was climb the mountain quickly, before I starved to death.

Each day was the same. I would wake up with the sun, look around for any source of food, and find none. I would get skinnier every day. I would get hungrier every day. And despite all this, I kept on. When the air got thinner, I knew my fate was to die at the top of the craggy mountain.

My hands looked to be made of bone, and my clothes seemed to be two sizes bigger. The hunger pained me, keeping me awake at night. I could see my ribcage through my tattered shirt, and me skin was covered in sunburns, especially later on as the air got thinner. My shoes were in slightly better condition than my clothes, but only by enough to keep my feet off the rocky ground. The further into my journey, the less I climbed each day, although I walked until I fell asleep. If I didn’t die from malnutrition, I knew I would die from exhaustion.

As I climbed, I let my mind wander, and came about a problem. How would I be able to stop anyone who made it to the top from taking the scabbard? The question remained on my mind for days. I had trouble sleeping at night, as even the sheath might prove too powerful for a human to own.

I reached the top much, much later, as a walking skeleton. My clothes were torn, and I hadn’t bathed in weeks. I came upon a large, dark, beckoning cave. I decided that the sword would be best to leave in the cave, perhaps I would find a place that would appear to be made to hold the sword, or a place that could protect the scabbard.

I entered the cave and was embraced in darkness. A small light appeared at the end. I found it funny: the light at the end of the tunnel, seeming to be a sign that I was about to die. I obviously would die soon as there was no way I could survive after my long journey.

But then you were there. You gave me food, although my stomach couldn’t hold much. You told me about the mystical blade, Excalibur, and how it was forged in a dragon’s breath at the beginning of time. And you told me how I should protect the scabbard. I will lie down on top of the great rock come dawn tomorrow morning. I already have the sheath around my waist, and I swear not to take it off. I will lie on the great rock, and entrust you with the sword. When you do the act, you must say the words.

I know in many, many years, he will come: the once and future king. And when he comes to take the weapon, as it was made for him, I will come back to serve him, but until then I will be stone. You must do as you say, or else his destiny will never be fulfilled.

Emeris, you say. Emeris, go to sleep on the great stone now. I will thrust the blade into the rock. Go to sleep on the great stone and wake up by a different name when your king comes, which he will. Arthur will wake you from your slumber and bring you to Gaius, who will save you, as you will lose much blood once you become flesh and bone again. But remember: they can never know your deepest secret, the secret you will discover during your timeless slumber.

Wander no more you say; this is the end.