The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 37

Magic Blades

Alexander kept shifting uncomfortably as he and Dante walked down the corridors to the palace courtyard where the three warriors usually trained together. His skin felt prickly and his muscled felt as if jolts of energy pulsed through them at random intervals. Everything felt different, but Alexander didn’t know whether that was in his mind or because of his newly released power.
He was still in his head going through everything that felt different from the sights and sounds to the odd itching sensation in the back of his throat when he and Dante passed Oni who said, “Good morning, Commander.”
“Good morning, Oni,” Alexander replied without thinking.
Oni almost tripped as he stared dumbfounded at Alexander, his mouth hanging open to reveal the fang-like teeth of his kind. “You speak Emekee, Commander?”
Alexander stared back at the emokin with a blank expression. He had been so busy in his own head that he had not realized who he was talking to.
“Mature angelians can understand all tongues,” Dante frantically whispered under his breath.
“Ah yes, Oni, I have been taking lessons in Emekee of late,” Alexander replied hurriedly. This time, he heard his voice make the strange clicking and curling noises of the Emekee tongue.
“Well, you’re good, Commander. No accent either,” Oni said, smiling happily.
“Thank you, Oni. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Alexander turned and set off to where Merrick and Kohr were already sparring.
“I’m sorry, I should have mentioned that earlier. I didn’t think about the emokin in your regiment,” Dante apologized. “Your new ability to talk to him results from your higher attunement to the dhaesí source. Their magic expresses itself through the Heart Tongue, which is said to be the true language and the one all others came from. That’s why all dhaesí appear to speak all tongues.”
“You seem to forget a lot lately, Dante. Are there any other surprises I need to worry about?” Alexander asked through clenched teeth.
“I am sorry, boy. But you need to remember, I’m not angelian, and I’ve never had to go through all these changes,” Dante said. “And there might be one more surprise. But we’ll know if it will be a problem after the sparring session.”
“Can’t you just tell me?” Alexander asked.
“I think it best you act exactly as you normally would. If I tell you, you might not,” Dante said.
“Fine,” Alexander said.
“I’m so sorry, lad. I should have been more prepared. I should have prepared you better. I’ve been spending too much time planning your training and not enough thinking about your wellbeing.” Dante looked away, apparently ashamed at his shortcomings as a mentor.
“Yes!” Merrick screamed from the middle of the courtyard. “Got you!”
“That puts your tally at what now? Five wins, ninety-two losses,” Alexander laughed as he stepped closer to join his friends.
Merrick stuck out his tongue. “It’s still better than your zero wins and one-hundred-and-nine losses.”
Alexander laughed a hollow laugh. It was true; he still could not beat Kohr even once despite his best efforts. “That’s only against Kohr, I’ve beaten you plenty of times. In fact, I’ll get another win right now.”
“You’re on,” Merrick said, laughing.
“Merrick,” Dante said from the sidelines.
“Yeah?”
“If you can manage as much as a cut on Alexander, I’ll pay for as much as you can drink today and any company from the brothel you might desire,” Dante said.
“You serious?” Merrick said, his eyes stretched wide. He had complained nonstop about his lack of income and the cost of things in the city ever since they had arrived in Pensilisurbis.
“Do I ever joke?” Dante said in a drawl.
Merrick grinned like a maniac, and the next second he flew at Alexander and swung his sword with as much power as his werewolf-venom-enhanced muscles could manage.
Alexander reacted instinctively and drew his sword as fast as he could—which turned out to be a lot faster than he usual. In the span of time between heartbeats, he had drawn his sword and blocked the path of Merrick’s blade.
Something’s wrong, Alexander thought immediately. The hilt of his sword felt unfriendly to his hand.
But Merrick, still intent on finally earning the drinking binge he felt he deserved, was already swinging his sword again. As the vicious cut fell diagonally from above, Alexander parried instinctively. The blades met with enough force to knock Merrick’s sword from his grasp and create a small hurricane in the courtyard.
Alexander stared down at his sword with disbelief. The metal blade was warped slightly and a constant vibration ran through it as fine cracks of what looked like light formed down the length of the blade.
Merrick, who had already recovered from the shock of being disarmed with such force was already drawing his other sword and preparing to attack again.
Suddenly the courtyard was filled with a high-pitched screech and the next second Alexander’s sword exploded, sending shards of metal flying in all directions.
“All right I give up, I’ll buy my own drinks and strumpets,” Merrick shouted from where he was curled up into a ball on the ground. He had small cuts that were smoking all over his body and a bloody mess where his right shoulder used to be. The shards of glowing red metal from the shattered sword had mostly only grazed Merrick, but a big piece had lodged itself into his shoulder.
Dante who had evidently expected something like this to happen had conjured a magic barrier around himself and Kohr to protect them from any damage.
“Merrick, are you okay?” Alexander asked in concern.
“I will be as soon as you get this bloody piece of metal out of my shoulder!” Merrick shouted.
“Okay, just stay still,” Alexander said. He grabbed hold of the metal shard and cursed. It was still scolding hot. Merrick winced and gave a groan of pain as the shard was pulled free and for a mere second the shadow of the wolf was visible on his face.
“Bit of a desperate move just for a win, don’t you think? Blowing up your own sword,” Merrick snapped.
“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.”
“It is as I feared,” Dante said as he examined Merrick’s wounds. They were already healing, though slower than usual. “It is rather remarkable that it should happen at such a young age, though.”
“What do you mean, wizard? That what should happen at such a young age?” Kohr asked, kneeling next to Merrick.
“Alexander’s power has grown too great for a normal weapon,” Dante explained. “Most angelians used swords like the one that just shattered. Blades covered in runes that helped to channel their user’s power through the blade and back. But Alexander’s power is too great to be contained by such crude circuits. Also, his strength and speed are beyond that of the normal angelian? A perfunctory parry was enough to warp the blade of the sword. In true combat, I fear no sword will last long in Alexander’s hands.”
“What?” Alexander said, feeling his blood go ice cold. He had lived with a sword in his hand since he was a boy. It would feel like losing a limb if he could never again wield a sword. “I need a sword, Dante.”
“I know, my boy. The problem is, at your level, a synthetic magic weapon will not do. We need a true magic sword. Or at the very least an everblade, but they’re just as rare as true magic swords,” Dante said.
“What’s an everblade?” Merrick asked while poking his finger into the hole in his shoulder.
Kohr smacked his hand away and said, “A sword forged from adamantine—an unbreakable metal that once forged into a sword maintains its edge forever, hence the name, everblade.”
“The truth is, Alexander, I’ve been expecting this problem to rear its head for a while now. Ever since I realize how strong you really are. I’ve been doing research and trying to find a true magic weapon for you, but the only one I’ve found so far you can’t use.”
“What? Why not? Where is it?” Alexander said desperately.
“He’s talking about my sword, Alexander. Durend’art,” Kohr said drawing the sword in question from its scabbard.
“Well, it’s not like you really need it. Couldn’t you just give it to Alex?” Merrick asked.
Dante shook his head. “Durend’art cannot pass to a new user unless its current owner has used all three miracles or has been killed.”
Merrick looked around at everyone as if they were being stupid. “Am I the only one that sees the obvious solution here?”
“We can’t ask Kohr to use the last two miracles, Merrick,” Alexander shook his head. “They are actual miracles. It would be a waste. For all we know, one of those miracles could be the answer to putting an end to Cain. No, I’ll need to find another sword.”
“Oh,” Merrick said. “Actually, I was going to suggest we kill Kohr, but okay.”
Ignoring Merrick, Kohr said, “Have you not found any answers yet in the royal library?”
“I have found several mentions of magic weapons. Earth Splitter, Skyhook, the Fade Dagger, and Excrutio.” Dante sighed. “But I’ve only been able to find the locations of two magic weapons. Durend’art here with Kohr, and the Borrum Everblade which is currently in the hands of Cain.”
“Then what do I do? I can’t fight Cain if I don’t have a weapon,” Alexander said hopelessly.
“We will find you such a weapon, My Prince. I swear it to you, but it may take some time. I’ll go back to the library right now and do more research,” Dante said. He seemed lost in thought as he turned and strode off without another word.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Merrick said sardonically, still sitting on the ground and aggravating his wound.
Alexander and Kohr ignored him and stared at one another with concern etched on their faces.
“What am I going to do, Kohr? Without a sword I don’t stand a chance,” Alexander pleaded. Kohr always had an answer to any problem; he always had a plan.
“I don’t know, Alex,” Kohr shook his head. “For now, we should just wait and see what the wizard can come up with.”
“I highly doubt the answer to my current problem will be found in some ancient book—” Alexander trailed off as a memory came back to him. A memory of a dream, a dream where a wolf had told him he would face some problem today. And if he needed help with this problem, he would find it in the book Linaria had given him.
“You okay, brother?” Merrick asked, snapping Alexander back to reality.
“I have to go check something,” Alexander said distantly. He turned and without another word strode off back up the path that led to his room. It was a bit unreal that a dream could have foretold this happening, not even to speak of the solution.
When he reached his room, Alexander flung open the door and made for his alchemy table. Ever since coming to the city, he had skimmed through the book Linaria had given him, and whenever he had the time, he attempted some easier options. So far, he had successfully concocted a powder that if inhaled paralyzed a person, and an invigoration draught that can make you feel as well-rested as someone who has had twenty hours of good sleep even if you have been awake for days. But the most difficult so far to make was a potion called the banshee’s scream, a potion that released a high-pitched howl if you broke the vial that contains it.
Alexander flipped through the book filled with potion recipes until he came to a page with a small seven hundred scratched into the corner. The heading on the page read, Potion of lucid dreaming. It was a simple enough potion to make, not needing any ingredients that were too scarce.
But how will this get me the weapon I need? Alexander thought to himself, scanning through the recipe.
We have the answer, the ghost of the memory answered.
“Very well, then. Let’s talk,” Alexander said to himself as he pulled everything he would need closer.
The creation of the potion took the entire morning and most of the afternoon, but when it was done, it looked exactly the way the book described it. It was like the liquid night sky, pitch black with glowing white dots strewn through it. The potion seemed to swirl slowly as the ghost-like stars danced around and around.
Drinking the potion in one gulp, Alexander moved to his bed to lie down before it took effect. Unfortunately, the bed still seemed an eternity away when he fell to the ground, sleep taking him with no intention of allowing for compromise.

He was in darkness again, the mist once more dancing around his feet. But this time, he knew it was a dream; this time, he knew nothing could hurt him.
“So here I am. Did you want to talk? Let’s talk,” Alexander shouted into the darkness; his voice echoing off the unseen walls.
“I take it you have found the problem we warned you of?” A white wolf stepped from out the shadows.
This time, Alexander was not afraid, this time, he could answer confidently and without fear. “I cannot wield a sword. I need a weapon that won’t blow apart as soon as I intend to use it.”
“Yes, you do.” The black wolf joined them. It went to sit next to the white wolf, and the two of them stared at him with intelligent eyes.
“You need a weapon that is more than anything a mortal can make,” the white wolf said.
“I know. You said I would need to find you for the solution. So here I am,” Alexander said.
“You will need to come to us in the waking world,” the white wolf said.
“The waking world? How am I supposed to do that?” Alexander asked, looking from one wolf to the other.
“You have known where to find us all along,” the black wolf said, looking up.
Alexander mimicked the motion and stared up at the sky. Sure enough, a thin line of light was visible above them, and he said, “The Whispering Canyon.”
“Yes.”
“There, we wait.”
“And if I come, what then? How will you help me?” Alexander asked as he was looking at the wolves again.
The two wolves stood up, each moving in opposite directions. Behind the point where they were sitting, however, a light started to glow. A thin sharp sword was sticking out of a stone. He stepped closer and read the ancient language carved into the side of the blade, The world needs both order and chaos to create balance.
“It is from the ancient gods,” the black wolf said.
“And their powers remain in the blade,” the white wolf added.
“If you claim it, you will be able to use it,” the black wolf continued.
“For no mortal power can destroy the Blade of Balance,” the white wolf finished.
“All I need to do is come to the Whispering Canyon? It lies at the bottom?” Alexander asked, hope rising inside him again.
“Yes, but you must come alone,” the white wolf said.
“No one may know you have even gone to get the sword,” the black wolf added.
Suspicion shoved its way past hope and delight and Alexander asked, “How do I know this is real and not a trap?”
“You don’t,” the black wolf snapped.
“But do you have any other choice but to trust us?” the white wolf asked.
Alexander did not answer. He still felt suspicious, but the white wolf was right, he didn’t have a choice. He needed a weapon, and the way Kohr and Dante had talked about it, finding weapons like these were already next to impossible.
“You must come when the full moon brushes the sky,” the white wolf said.
He was turning and walking away into the shadows.
“The sword can only be claimed when the full moon is in the sky,” the black wolf’s voice said from somewhere in the shadows.
“Mate, what are you doing on the floor?” Merrick’s voice came from out the darkness.

Alexander sat up, the visions from the dream still vivid in his mind’s eye.
“Merrick!” Alexander leaped to his feet, causing Merrick to jump in shock due to the sudden movement.
“Have you been passed out on the floor all day? Kohr said you never showed up for your duties.”
“Merrick, when is the next full moon?” Alexander asked, ignoring his question.
“What?” Merrick looked shocked. “Why? I’m in control of my werewolf—”
“I know you are in control of it, but you have been keeping track of the lunar cycle for years now. Knowing the phases of the moon should be second nature to you by now,” Alexander interrupted.
Merrick, who still stared at Alexander with wide-eyed shock, thought briefly, then said, “Uh, it’s not tonight. I think it is tomorrow.”
“Brilliant.” Alexander ran to his armor and lifted the bell cuirass over his head.
“Where are you going?” Merrick asked.
“I need to leave the city for a few days. Can you take over as Commander for me, only for a while?” Alexander strapped his satchel to his chest.
“Leave? Why and for what?” Merrick looked worried and then added. “I’ll come with you.”
Alexander turned and shook his head. “No, my friend, not this time.”
“Why not? I can help with whatever it is.” Merrick said. “I need to do this alone, my friend. Please understand,” Alexander said.
Merrick stared into Alexander’s eyes with a hurt expression then said in a soft voice, “But we are sworn brothers.”
“We are, my friend, but I can’t be much of a sword brother to you if I have no sword. Please understand, Merrick. Some battles a man must face alone,” Alexander tried to explain. The hurt look Merrick gave him pierced deeper than any sword could ever manage.
Perhaps Merrick saw the pain on Alexander’s face, because he then said, “I’ll do your Commander’s duties, but I’m not taking your lessons with Kohr and Dante.”
“Thank you, my brother,” Alexander said, and he and Merrick embraced each other in a hug.
“Make sure neither Dante nor Kohr follows me, Merrick. I have to do this myself. Alone,” Alexander said his friend when they broke apart.
“I’ll make sure,” Merrick said, moving aside for Alexander to leave.
Out of habit, Alexander grabbed the empty scabbard that no longer had any swords to contain. With his phoenix cloak on, the black side showing, he made his way down the hall and out the palace. It would take half a day’s ride, and who knew how long it would take to the bottom of the canyon. There was no time to waste.
When the elevator door opened in the archway atop the cliff, Alexander saw that the sun had already set. The man in charge of herding the two bulls pulling the rope attached to the elevator looked very displeased at having his evening rituals disturbed. After noticing it was, in fact, Alexander, the man snapped himself into a salute and said, “Good evening, Commander.”
“Good evening, Thom,” Alexander replied, then stopped in his tracks.
“Thom, do you still have that roll of harionago hair rope the King bought back for the elevator?”
“Aye, sir. Haven’t gotten around to replacing the old one yet,” Thom said.
“Good. I want to borrow it for a few days if you don’t mind. Bring the roll to the stables if you please,” Alexander ordered the man.
Thom saluted, then strode off to fetch the rope in question.
Alexander hurried down the camp, leaving Thom to catch up. Most men were sitting around fires, talking and drinking.
“Hey boys, it’s the Commander!” Private Malken from Alexander’s regiment said at a nearby fire.
“Come to join us, sir?” Corporal Kitlamu asked.
“I’m sorry, Corporal, no. I have urgent business to take care of outside the city. Could you organize the opening of the gates for me, please?” Alexander asked.
Once again, the order was followed by a salute with no questions, and Corporal Kitlamu marched towards the gate.
The time spent on the journey from the Pride village to the city meant Alexander was very proficient at preparing Bucy for riding by now. The stallion that was still as hard-headed as any beast could be without having an actual head of stone still refused to let anyone ride him except for Alexander. Thom had brought the thick roll of harionago hair rope Alexander had asked for and helped him to strap the roll to the horse, making sure it wouldn’t unroll itself on the journey.
Within an hour of deciding to take his chances and going to the canyon, Alexander was riding like the wind out of the city and into the night.