SEALS
Chapter 3: A World Ruled by Swords
Mono swung the heavy stick around in an arc, back and forth, play-acting at wielding a sword in battle, clumsily. Wander could not say that he was a superb swordsman, himself, being that he'd only touched a knight's sword once. He was of the commoner's class – not starving or a beggar, but not quite of the wealth and status that swordsmen were. A well-tempered sword could cost more than a horse or as much as a full suit of armor. Wander was a man of the bow, a skilled hunter of the fields and woods. His skill lay in commoner's weapons, the practical kind that put meat on the table.
He'd defended his city in battle not long ago against a horde of invaders. He was one of the archers, fighting from the walls rather than out on the front lines. He'd used his common man's bow with all the skill, might and heart within him because he knew that if the invaders breached the city gates, not only his life was forfeit, but the lives of all of the most vulnerable in the city - his aging and ill father, his brother's wife and young children and of course, Mono. She would surely have had bad things done to her before she was killed or else made to be a slave if he'd failed. He had not known the faces of the men his arrows had stricken. He did not need to know, nor did he want to. They were not even men to him, truly, but beasts behind helms. He'd had the Limitless spell placed upon his quiver then – a magic charm given to him by one of the city priests that kept him in never-ending arrows. Most in his rank had used the charm.
Wander admired Mono's slender waist as she arced in her practice with the stick. She was not strongly-curved. She was a thin girl, typical of their shared class. Her frame gave her a kind of innocence. So did her playful nature. Still, she had some nice hips when her dress clung to them just right.
"What are you doing?" Wander wondered aloud, "Are you trying to beat back ghosts?"
There was an old wives' tale that if one encountered black spirits in the woods, one could fend them off with a large enough stick.
"No," Mono answered, "I'm just playing around, like a form of exercise. I wonder how I'd be with a real sword. If our city is ever breached I'd like to be able to defend myself… at least until I can get to you."
Wander stepped forward and reached out to cup Mono's chin in one hand. "That will never happen," he said with sad eyes. "You don't ever need to worry about that. Our walls are strong, we have many knights and… well, I won't let anything bad happen to you, ever."
"You speak like we are already married, instead of just betrothed."
"I'll launch my last arrow and give my last breath before I see any harm come to you, and, if need be, I'll come back as a smoke-spirit to protect you."
Mono took his hand off her face and cupped it in her own hands. "You promise too much. Everyone in love says they'll do anything for their lover, but you shouldn't make promises you cannot keep. Anyway, do you want to go see a really special sword? The temple is open today and Sword of Light is on display."
"Sword of Light?"
"You know the one! It's from the legend about the Forbidden Land."
"That's just a story, isn't it?"
"The part of the temple where it's kept is open today. Lord Emon and his guardians are there to make sure nothing happens to it. I think they're even allowing people to touch it to gain fortune."
Wander shrugged. "I guess a recent victory in battle is a good reason to show artifacts like that off."
"Let's go!" Mono grabbed his hand and pulled him, running, to the center of the Grand City. They made their way to the central tower. They walked their way up along the spiral in the Tower of Heaven's interior along with many other pilgrims.
"Isn't it pretty?" Mono asked Wander, looking up at the double-edged sword mounted upon a tawny stone wall flanked by torches and lit by an opposing window in the sword's special room.
"It looks sharp," Wander observed. He shrank a little under the gaze of the imposing figure in the mask and robe. The figure lifted his mask to reveal a stern and elderly-but-not-yet-overly-wizened face.
"Ah! Aren't you one of our valiant young archers who saved the city?" Emon asked of Wander.
"There were many of us," Wander said humbly.
"I remember blessing you and your weapons. Not many even of our own escaped that battle unhurt. The gods must have favored you."
"We wanted to touch the sword," Mono spoke up. "For a blessing."
"Very well," Lord Emon said as he took the blade down and held it out, allowing Mono and Wander to lightly trace their fingers along it. "Careful by the edge, it is…"
Wander winched and sucked his finger.
"I warned you not to touch the edge," Emon said. "This is a very special sword. It divides Life from Death."
"Don't all swords do that?" Wander quipped.
"More than the average sword, boy," Emon elaborated. "This one divides Light from Shadow. It creates and breaks seals and is the blade that keeps Death from overrunning our lands."
Lord Emon put the sword away.
"The story I heard about that sword is that it was used to seal an ancient god that controlled the passage of souls between our world and the Land of the Dead."
"A demon," Emon corrected, "And a 'they.' The Dormin was a legion of entities both many and one."
"Is it true that the Dormin could bring back the dead?" Mono asked.
"It is not wise to ask such questions or to think upon such things," Lord Emon intoned. "Go on now. Others also wish to see the sword. You both are young. Enjoy the lives that you have."
Wander felt the weight of the sacred sword in his hand as he stared at the gray-blue giant with the stone sword in its hand.
The remains of the sky-temple above the lake reminded him, a little, of the Tower of Heaven back home. The young man stood tense and ready to run. He'd positioned himself on the center of a great stone dais. After getting a good look at this Colossus, he figured that if it tried to pound him, it would shatter its armor on something hard, revealing more of its softer, furred areas for him to climb.
Scrabbling up these creatures' bodies like an insect was no honorable combat… This Colossus had a sword just like he did, except it was huge, blocky and made of stone – a club that resembled a sword.
It wouldn't be fair combat if they did this like men, anyway. Wander knew that he would be crushed in one blow or at least knocked head over tail. He watched the tower-tall creature pull back its "blade," its slender waist twisting.
A melancholy sort of joy came over Wander for a moment. For a second, the great beast reminded him of Mono swinging her stick, pretending at defending herself from marauders.
He saw the blade descending for him and took off in a dead run. He leapt and rolled and he heard the crack of the stone armor shattering off the Colossus' arm. He smiled before running out of the way again, leading the behemoth a few steps forward, a few steps forward…
Crash! The giant swordsman got his weapon stuck in the ground. Wander used it as a platform to run along, only to stagger and fall as the sword was raised it up. As Wander clung to the edge of the wall-like "blade," he thought about life in a world ruled by swords.
Just like men, the Colossi fought with all they had to survive. They took up armor and arms. Wander knew that this was a situation was one which only one of them would walk away from – or that neither of them would walk away from considering he never knew quite what happened or how he'd gotten back to Dormin's tower once the shadow-threads came for him. He determined himself to this: that he would survive. He had to - to complete the ritual – for Mono.
After climbing all over the beast and destroying the seal upon its head, Wander stabbed the Colossus' stomach, thin compared to the rest of its body. After the sword sliced into the soft tissue in the final stab required to break the seal and to kill the being, Wander jumped down and started running, hoping to avoid the threads. All he knew about them was that he expected them now after killing one of these things, that they hurt when they caught up to him and stabbed into his body, and that he felt cold and "empty" somehow as they hit him. He knew what to expect from them, but still felt as terrified of them as he did when he'd seen them for the first time rising from the slain body of the first Colossus.
He nearly made it to the edge of the platform in the sky when he was hit. Wander closed his eyes and the memory he had of watching Mono comically swinging a stick, her delicate waist flexing - vanished.