Soul Sword

Ava finally opens the strange trunk from Mara's collection.

Darkness.

That was all she knew now.

That, and pain.

Polaria winced and gasped involuntarily as she moved slightly. She hadn't thought that snakes like Morgana were the biting type, but she had obviously been wrong. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to see the two puncture wounds on her thigh, that had begun leaking this pus-like substance.

Polaria was no expert on snake bites, but she was pretty sure that was not a good sign.

The dungeon was completely silent, except for the steady drip of water from the ceilings. It was so maddeningly quiet, that she wanted to scream. In fact, sometimes, she did scream.

But nobody ever answered.

Every day, at the same time, a plate with moldy bread and something that could've once been soup was pushed under her door, and a while later, she got some more moldy bread and some moldy cheese with water.

At first, she had avoided the disgusting fare, but at this point, she no longer cared. Food was food, and she was starving.

A scraping sound alerted Polaria to the sound of the tray, and she carefully lowered herself off the bed and onto the filthy ground, where she dragged herself to the door. Her eyes quickly located the wooden tray with the bread, water, and cheese, and her hands greedily grabbed for the food.

When the food was gone, Polaria slowly and painfully dragged herself back to the pallet. She often wondered why she didn't just stay by the door, to save agonizing travel, but she never wanted to risk getting hit by the door when it opened.

If it opened.

No. Polaria told herself sternly. You have to keep up hope. That door will open. It'll just take some time. But it will.

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"So........" Saol wiggled his eyebrows.

"So.......what?" I sipped my tea.

"What's in the trunk?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that." Tiran chimed in, and held a hand full of white cubes up to Ven's face.

"Sugar cube?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, please." Ven said, popped one in her mouth, then promptly shot it out of her mouth and at Tiran's forehead.

"Ow!" Tiran complained, rubbing a red mark.

"Neigh." Ven replied, sticking out her tongue.

"I admire your aim and speed." Estïqiã inclined her head to Ven, and the princess smiled modestly.

"Anyway." Saol interposed forcefully. "What. Is. In. The. Trunk?"

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. "It was in Mara's little 'collection', and I thought it was.......I don't know. I just wanted to take it."

"You stole it."

"Sure." I shrugged. "It just felt.....right."

"Well, we'll address your stealing problems later. I'm done guessing. I want to know." Tiran announced with a wink, standing up and approaching the chest. He frowned. "It looks really, really old."

"Congratulations. You solved the mystery." Estïqiã said drily, and Tiran bowed.

"Open it!" Ven cheered, and Tiran bent down. He pulled on the lock, testing it, then braced his feet against the wooden planks. But despite how flimsy the wood looked, and how rusty the lock was, neither budged an inch when Tiran pulled on the lock with as hard as he could.

"Let me try." Estïqiã demanded, and attempted to open the chest herself, but to no avail.

"Ha! It didn't even budge!" I teased them.

"Let's see you open it." Estïqiã challenged me, hands on her hips.

"We can't." Ven chimed in. "We would ruin our beautiful princess hands." she held up my hand and wiggled her own. Estïqiã rolled her eyes.

"Try magic." I suggested, standing and going over to get a better look.

"I'll do it." Tiran volunteered, and took a step backwards. Focusing his attention on the ancient trunk, he spoke the word for open.

"Chimêt."

Nothing happened.Tiran frowned, and tried again.

"Chimêt!" he repeated, a little more forcefully.

"It must be magic blocked." I realized, crestfallen.

"You dragged it all this way for nothing?" Saol asked.

"I guess so." I frowned. "But it wasn't even heavy. Maybe it's empty." To prove my point, I went to the chest and lifted it up by the lock.

"Ahhhh!!" I yelped, and dropped the chest. The lock was glowing an angry red color, and my fingers were quickly blistering.

"What the hell just happened?" Estïqiã demanded.

"I don't know!" I blew on my singed fingers.

"Ava." Saol whispered.

"What?" I asked peevishly, my fingers throbbing painfully.

"Look." he pointed at the chest, where the lock was becoming hotter. It became orange, then yellow, then a brilliant white, before it simply clicked open and dropped to the floor.

I slowly knelt down in front of the trunk, and reached for the lid. When I lifted it, it swung open easily, revealing the inside of the wooden container.

Sitting on the bottom of the chest, there was a long, thin object, wrapped in dirty rags, perhaps three feet long. My hands were trembling for some reason as I picked up the package.

My gift to you. Lucinda's words rang clearly in my head, and I swallowed.

Everyone was quiet as I carefully unwrapped the cloth.

A gleam of black poked through as I removed more and more of the covering, and its shape, sort of a cross shape, became more and more distinct as I took away most of its bulk.

One long and thin piece of fabric was left, spiraling down the strange object, and through the small cracks, a glassy black color shone through. I don't know why I was so nervous, but my fingers were shaking as they reached for the edge of the last cloth.

My fingers brushed against the smooth black, and an electric jolt snaked up and down my arm, making me jump and drop the mystery gift. The cloth unraveled as it fell, and it landed on the floor with a clatter.

Lying among the rags, was a double edged and white handled sword, with a blade the same color and glossiness as Lucinda's cauldron mix.

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"This doesn't make any sense." Dantaus moaned, with papers clutched in his fist. The papers he had found on top had his sister's handwriting, Ava's handwriting, alongside Finneaus's, but it was all gibberish.

Magic?

Real?

No.

"He said it's not as it seems, but this stuff of children's stories." Dantaus muttered to no one in particular, and sank his head into his hands.

"Magic is not real." he told himself.

Then why do all these papers say that it is?

Sighing, Dantaus stood, about to leave, when the corner of a paper suddenly caught his eye. Unlike the others, it was covered only in lines and marks.

Pulling it out, he studied it carefully. A square at the top had Zancastle written on it, in Finneaus's fancy, careful handwriting, and a dotted line led to a giant blob shape, that had Ava's tiny and spiky handwriting, her own personal brand of cursive that Dantaus found beautiful and unique, but caused Finneaus no end of grief.

Dantaus had never really had a real love for the tutor, and had been overjoyed when he had reached the end of his training, but for some reason, despite the hard times he gave her, Ava had always had a fond sort of feeling for the teacher.

Reading the small script, Dantaus frowned. The Forgotten Forest......Never heard of it. he thought to himself, and walked over to Finneaus's pride and joys; twenty-four volumes, alphabetically organized, and full of practically everything in the world. He pulled out the four inch thick "F" book, and flipped through until he reached the "for-" page. His finger slid down the page, searching for the right word, until he reached Forgotten Forest.

Forgotten Forest: a wooded area near the kingdom Zancastle (SEE Vol. 24, page 106). Source of superstitious fears, and generally avoided area.

"So......Finneaus sent her into some forest, probably alone, where she will have no help, and will be surrounded by wild animals." Dantaus muttered. "Fantastic. Just fantastic."

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"Why is it so black?" I heard Ven half whisper to Tiran. The blade of the sword gleamed in the light, shimmering with some sort of energy that captivated my attention. It was so bright.......so smooth.....so shiny......

"Ava! Don't touch it!" Estïqiã yanked me back.

"Why not?" I suddenly felt annoyed and irritated, as if her preventing me from touching the sword was affected my mood.

"That sword.......it's not natural." Estïqiã was looking at the weapon with a fearful look.

"What do you mean?" Tiran asked.

"Just look at it!" Estïqiã insisted. "No sword should look like that. It's completely black, and glows like it's possessed!"

"It's not evil!" I jumped in with a little more force than I intended, and everyone stared at me. "It's not." I repeated defensively.

"It most certainly is. We have to get rid of it." Estïqiã decided.

"Wait, I'm lost. What is this?" Ven asked.

"I don't know either." Saol volunteered.

Their voices blurred into distant murmurings as they argued, and I focused on the sword. It looked evil, no doubt. Black tends to do that.

Nothing is good or evil. It just depends on who holds it, or who you're talking to.

Something in that blade told me it wasn't just metal. It was........... alive, somehow, and it had chosen me.

I glanced surreptitiously back at the others, but they were too busy arguing to notice me. Slowly crouching down, my hand wrapped itself around the smooth, ivory handle, and an electric shock coursed throughout my body.

No matter what other people say, I thought. This sword was meant for me.

It felt perfectly balanced and coordinated in my hand, unlike my other experiences with normal swords, where I felt clumsy and awkward. This one was like having another arm, one that would do whatever I wanted it to. The rest of the world was indistinct and surreal, and the only thing left was me and this sword.

Then, in a rush, it all came back, and I became aware of people shouting at me.

"Woah, woah, calm down!" I tried, but with a sword in my hand, it didn't work very well. "Please, just calm down, I can explain!"

"Everybody BE QUIET!!!" Saol shouted at the top of his lungs, and silence suddenly fell. "Now, let's just calm down, and talk like normal people. Can we do that, Estïqiã?" She nodded. "How about you, Ava?" I nodded, too, but I didn't put down the sword.

"Okay, good. Let's start with Estïqiã. Why should we get rid of it?" Saol's voice was even and soothing, but Estïqiã looked angered.

"Have you even looked at the thing? It looks evil, seems evil, and feels evil." she stubbornly stuck to her instinct, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Um.......good." Saol faltered slightly. "Ava, why do you have the sword?"

"Does it matter?" I colored slightly, and even though the question was from Saol, I was answering Estïqiã. "This sword is mine. I'm old enough to choose my own weapons. I may have made a lot of stupid mistakes before, but I am keeping this sword."

"How can you be so blind?" Estïqiã raged. "How can you ignore the unbelievably obvious malicious stench it radiates?"

"Estïqiã, I can't get rid of it." I stood firm, cradling the blade. "I just can't. As soon as I picked it up, I knew that it was mine. Nothing is evil. It just depends on who holds it."

A funny look flitted across Estïqiã's face at my last words, but she quickly composed herself.

The room was dead silent, people looking from Estïqiã to me, seeing which would crack first.

"Fine." Estïqiã said only one thing, before vanishing to her room.

The tension in the room lessened considerably, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Saol approached Tiran, and asked him something in the undertones, while Ven walked over to me.

"Are you okay?" her warm brown eyes scanned me with concern. I managed a quick smile.

"I'm fine. I should probably get to my lessons, though. The day's half over already." I replied, and she nodded. I started to set down the sword.

"No, go ahead and bring it." Tiran told me, and pointed at Saol, who was holding a sword himself. "He offered to give you sword lessons."

"You can use a sword?" I asked. "No, never mind. Of course you can. Let's go." Saol stuck out his tongue, and I returned the gesture before heading into the caves.

When we reached outside, Tiran headed straight for the testing clearing, where there was now a gigantic hole on the farther end. I flushed slightly, but neither of them mentioned anything.

"We should work on your magic skills first." Tiran decided, sitting on the ground. "We don't know how far this........unique situation goes. Can you maybe tell us?" I shrugged.

"I don't know." I replied. "Ask me a question."

"Can you......make that rock bounce?" Saol pointed at a dull gray stone at the edge of the tree line.

"Wãÿk." the word for bounce, or jump, came instantly to mind, as if summoned by the Myalnian word. The little rock began to hop up and down in a frenzied speed, bouncing higher and higher, until it finally bounced off into the forest.

"Do you......feel anything?" Tiran asked curiously.

"Not really. I feel the same." I answered.

"So that action didn't even affect you. Interesting." Tiran pulled a piece of paper and a charcoal stick out of his waist pocket, and scribbled something on the parchment. "Try to redo what you did on testing day." He tactfully forgot to add, Oh, yeah, the thing that nearly killed me.

I swallowed, and tried to remember what I'd said. First, come together, then live.

"Um.....Jïego nęcør." I tried half heartedly, and nothing happened.

"Come on, Ava. You can do better than that." Saol urged me, his blue green eyes bright. I nodded, then closed my own eyes and took a deep breath. The chirping sounds of the forest began to blend together, and faded out like a repeating echo, until all was completely silent in my head. Magic pressed on my mind from all around, from the air and ground, and started to hum with a beautiful tune, one that played every time I used magic, and even when I wasn't.

"Jïego nęcør!" I commanded forcefully, and I felt rocks, plants, and other inanimate objects come rushing towards me, but I didn't open my eyes. The mass shaped itself into a vaguely humanoid form, and stood almost twenty feet tall.

"Mæžiñg!" I shouted, and a dark rumble resonated from the now very much alive creature. I opened my eyes, and stared up at the faceless monster, who stared down at me. Saol and Tiran had both stumbled backwards in shock and surprise.

A silence followed.

Suddenly, the gargantuan rock person kneeled down on the ground, amidst tremendous creaking and cracking, a mirror image of my own position.

I went cross-legged, and after a pause, the creature mimicked me. I tried to lay down, and it copied my every move. I stood up, jumped up and down, spun around, and put my hands on my head, and still the thing followed with everything I did.

"You're like its master." Saol whispered in awe.

"Omã." I spoke the word for disassemble, and the rock person obediently fell to pieces.

"How are you not passing out from exhaustion right now?" Tiran asked incredulously.

"I feel a little light-headed." I offered, and my tutor shook his head.

"This is incredible, Ava." he told me wonderingly. "Bringing that many things together, and then to life, would've overloaded my systems long ago. It's like you've been practicing magic for years and years."

"I was dreading a forced marriage to a pig only months ago." I corrected him drily, and my heart suddenly seized up.

All of this, happing in one, maybe two months?

It felt like another lifetime.

I shuddered, rubbing my arms against the sudden cold, and Saol looked up at the sky, where threatening black clouds were suddenly gathering.

"Those clouds are way too fast." Tiran murmured, then cursed, shooting up. "Oh, no! Run!" He took off in a wicked sprint, and Saol and I scrambled up to follow. I barely remembered to grab my sword, when large, fat raindrops spattered on my skin, falling fast and hard. Within ten seconds, I was completely soaked, gasping for breath, and running though a dark and very wet forest. Barely able to keep up, I dodged bushes and trees, trying not slip on the muddy ground, with the ferocious wind tearing at my hair and clothes.

The waterfall's roar was barely audible over the rain's continual, staccato slaps as it hit the ground and the frequents roars of thunder, but when we reached it, it was almost overflowing, with unbelievable amounts of water plummeting off the cliff and slamming into the lake, which was quickly rising. The top was already lapping at the cliff ledge, where Tiran and Saol stood, shouting and waving their arms at me, but I couldn't hear them over the storm.

I dashed to the trail, and stared at Tiran, trying to understand him as he shouted something at full volume. He pulled out a rope, and I finally understood, tying the end to my waist, while my tutor and Saol did the same.

With Tiran leading, Saol in the middle, and me in the back, we slowly inched up the twelve inch wide and very slippery rock ledge, knowing that one false step could send us straight to the ground. The wind shoved at us at every possible opportunity, determined to rip us off the outcropping.

My wet hair was plastered to my face, and I kept my back pressed against the cliff face, trying to stay as far away from the edge as possible. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I looked up to see a small shower of rocks rumble off the edge of the cliff above us, pushed off by the force of the wind and rain.

Horrified, I immediately flattened myself against the cliff, and felt Saol next to me to the same. A moment of breathless anticipation followed, until I sighed with relief, thinking the danger had passed.

Then a violent tug pulled me off the cliff.

My scream was torn from my mouth by the wind as my fingers shot to the trail edge, and latched on in desperation. I forced myself to hold on, and had only a second to steel myself before the deadweight tied around my waist tightened with unbelievable strength. Gasping, I curled my fingers tighter as yellow spots danced around my field of vision.

I risked a small peek down the rope, where I saw Saol, who somehow located invisible hand and foot holds on the cliff and held on. The pressure around my waist subsided substantially, and I was able to breathe normally again.

With superhuman speed, Saol scrambled up the cliff face, as if immune to the extra weight hanging on him. Tiran hung limply from the rope, and as Saol heaved himself up onto the ledge and pulled up Tiran's motionless body, I shuddered to see blood staining his black hair.

Lightning seemed to crack the sky in half, illuminating everything so brightly, that the sun would be jealous. The white flash showed Saol, with Tiran slung over his shoulder, staring worriedly down at me, shouting something and offering his hand. I assumed it was to help me up; I accepted it, and let him pull me back onto the ledge.

My clothes clung to my shivering frame, and I couldn't feel my feet, hands, nose, or ears. Saol pulled me up the trail, forcing my numb and frozen legs to move. When I stumbled, he pushed me upright, then yanked me along.

The waterfall had widened, and there was a solid wall of water at the top of the outcropping, where the ledge met the inside of the caves.

Saol slowed, and looked back at me. He shouted something, then pointed at the water. I tried to nod and smile weakly. He nodded back, and gripped my frozen hand.

With him pulling me along, we charged into the water, and I experienced a moment of unbelievable, freezing cold, and the incredible weight of the water almost shoving me down.

Then I reached the inside of the cave, gasping for air and shivering violently.

"We have to keep going." Saol told me, shifting Tiran, who was still unresponsive. I couldn't say anything; I just nodded, and we started along the cold and wet caves as fast as we could.

Author's Note

Who thinks the sword is evil? Could Lucinda just be setting a huge trap? Is she working with Ekzema?:0