Chapter 21: The Sword of Legend

Flare landed nimbly on the large oak table that stood in the central room of Fort Ratcleff, almost smiling at how much he had gotten used to traveling through the Gates. Standing next to him Tai shared his thoughts. "Remember last time we came out of this gate? Weren't you so dizzy you threw up?"

"I think I'm going to throw up," Paige said from where she stood bellow, "and being dizzy has nothing to do with it."

Tai almost asked what she meant, but as he opened his mouth he saw the piles of decomposing corpses that littered the room. Worse than the grizzly sight was the foul odor that accompanied the lifeless bodies. Pinching his nose between two fingers Tai made a disgusted noise inside his throat. "I don't remember it smelling this bad before."

"I think they've begun rotting faster, now that they're not being 'preserved' anymore," Flare said as he stepped down from the table. "Now they're just run of the mill corpses, decomposing normally. They smell bad, but at least they won't try to kill us this time."

"What do you mean?" Paige asked as the group hastily left the room and began making their way through the fortress.

"Last time they were zombies," Tai stated matter-of-factly.

Paige's eyebrows rose in a combination of surprise and skepticism. Wroff grunted as he too held his nose with an oversized hand. "What zombies?" he asked.

"Dead bodies that can move around," Paige said as she continued to look at Tai. "Are you being serious?"

"He is," Flare said. "When we came back before, this entire island, and the fortress especially, were, possessed, is the best way I can think to describe it. Some of the wounds you see on these bodies were probably inflected by me and Tai defending ourselves against them."

"We fight zombies now?" Wroff asked as he uncertainly watched the sprawled dead as they passed.

"No," Flare said. "The last time we were here we...dealt with it." He repressed a shudder at the memory of the black heart that had given the zombie's their...life, though, life wasn't a good word for it, he couldn't think of another.

They each breathed easier, and deeper, once they had made their way outside. After a few minutes of breathing fresh air the smell of the deceased became little more than a memory. "We'll have to wait for a ship to pick us up," Flare said as they reached the shore, "but coming this way still saved us weeks that we would have had to spend traveling if we had come through the Denadoro gate. Besides we can use our magic to signal for any passing ships."

He raised his arm into the air and sent a small ball of fire skyward; it exploded with a bang and a flash that could have been heard and seen a distance off into the sea. Every couple of minutes they launched another signal into the air, switching between fireballs from Flare and Paige, and bright cracks of lightning from Randall. It wasn't long before a ship approached the shore.

"I wish we could have done that last time. We waited for hours before, and even then we just got lucky that the Sea-," Tai cut off as he stared at the approaching vessel. "It's the Sea Salamander, I'm an imp if this isn't a weird coincidence."

"What's a sea salamander?" Paige asked.

"Look." Flare pointed to the words painted across the hull of the ship. "Sea Salamander is the name of that boat. It's the same one that picked me and Tai up from this island the last time we were here."

As it had the last time, a small raft was lowered off the side of the boat with two men in it. Before the boat reached the shore Flare and Tai recognized the men. "Everyone, this is Captain Sid Damascus Korin and his first mate Swimley," Flare introduced the two men as they stepped out of the small craft.

The captain was only momentarily surprised by the recognition. Once he got past looking at Flare's outrageously spiked hair and onto his face he recognized the young man who he had recovered from the very same island only weeks earlier. "If it don't be Flare and Tai, the Choras boys, back on this godforsaken isle once again. This time ye brought friends."

Flare almost asked what he had meant by 'Choras boys' before remembering the lie they had used to cover their extraordinary origins. "Yeah, we managed to get stuck here again. I don't suppose you'd mind getting us back to Truce?"

"We'll pay," Randall said. "I've got gold to cover our passage."

"Won't be necessary." Sid turned to Randall. "Truce only be a short distance, it not be worth takin' yer coin over." Even as he finished his sentence recognition bloomed over his bearded face. "Why you be Randall! Knight of the Square Table!"

Randall shook his head. "I cannot claim the honor of that title any longer."

Sid's face turned serious as he spoke, "I do hope I don't be steppin' over me bounds, but the Kingdom could surely use ye back in her service. With the war takin' a turn fer the worse an all."

"How so?" Randall said with a frown. "Last I was aware we were at a stalemate. What has changed?"

"Ye mean to tell me that ye not be knowing?" Sid spoke as though he had to explain that water was wet, or that blades were sharp. "The mystics do have a new leader, or rather, he is said to have always been leadin' them, but now he's shown himself. His name be Magus though the mystics have taken to callin' him the Fiendlord, and rumors be that he's a powerful sorcerer. It be said he single handedly wiped out an entire company of royal knights."

Randall turned to Flare. "Could it could be Xavius using a different name?"

"No." Flare shook his head. "Magus is a different sorcerer."

"That be right," Sid said with a sudden frown. "The two of ye mentioned somethin' about a Magus leadin' the mystics before. I thought ye were just ignorant from the lack of news ye be gettin' in Choras, but now I see that ye be right. How be it that ye knew about Magus before anyone else?"

At an earlier time a question like this would have flustered Flare, but after having coming so far it hardly seemed important to try keeping a low profile or to have realistic cover stories. Without hesitating he told the man a version of the truth. "We're hunting a sorcerer ourselves, so knowing about sorcerers is a great aid in our line of work."

"Ye hunt sorcerers?" Sid said skeptically.

"It's true," Randall said. "The sorcerer they hunt is named Xavius, and he has allied himself with the man who killed my brother."

"I see." A look of understanding passed over the captain's face. "That be why ye're always comin' to places like this damned isle."

Flare offered a nod.

"It will take two trips to haul the lot of ye to the Sea Salamander," the captain said, returning to the business of getting them off the isle.

Flare stepped into the small boat alongside Tai and Paige. "Will be back for ye in a moment," Sid said to Randall and Wroff as he and Swimley began oaring away from the shore. "Say Flare. What be the flashes in the sky? That be what we came to investigate when we found ye lot."

"Fireworks," answered Flare. "We were setting off fireworks."

Sid looked a bit skeptical for a moment, but ended up accepting the explanation with a shrug. Who was he to question a group of sorcerer hunters?

Rosewood Cemetery had been located on the outskirts of Truce for hundreds of years. As long as there had been the city, there had been the cemetery. It wasn't the only cemetery in Truce, but it was one of the oldest and largest. It was also the only cemetery reserved specifically for those who had served in Guardia's military.

Flare was appalled to see how many of the graves were fresh. The cemetery had grown considerably in only the short amount of time that this most recent war had been fought. What was more appalling still was how much larger the cemetery was in his own time. Although it was true that any cemetery would increase in size over the span of nearly five centuries, what Flare was noticing was the section reserved for those who had died during the Mystic War. If the people thought the war had been costly before, they had no idea how much more costly it would be now that Magus had taken an active role.

Randall seemed to read Flare's thoughts, though reading his face was probably closer to the truth. "How many more die before the war ends?"

"A lot," Flare said intending to leave it at that. Randall nodded grimly, not happy but unsurprised to hear the news.

Among the graves that had been filled during the past few years of the war a few stood out. These were marked by tombstones made of fine marble as opposed to common stone, and each was marked not only with Guardia's royal crest but also with a second less common symbol: The Mark of the Square Table. A pair of swords crossed within a perfect square. This simple symbol was the mark of Guardia's most elite knights. The ones who more often than not, had songs sung about them in taverns. The ones who became legendary among legends.

The grave they stopped in front of was distinguished even among these. A sword was embedded within its tombstone, the sunlight glinting from its polished blade. It was a simply made broadsword of the style most Guardians preferred. Even though nothing about its design was elaborate, the sword was as well made as any Flare had seen.

"Randall, is this it? The Masamune?" Flare was surprised to find the sword in such an unprotected and unhidden spot.

"Yes," Randall said. "This is my brother Richard's grave. He was the last wielder of the Masamune."

"But why hasn't the sword been given to somebody else?" Tai asked. "If the kingdom was at peace I could understand enshrining it, but with the war getting worse shouldn't someone else be using it? Not to mention the safety of leaving it alone out here. Not everyone respects the dead. Somebody could easily bust it out of the tombstone. I'm sure there are lots of people who'd steal the Masamune if given half a chance."

Randall gave a slight shake of his head as he untied a leather pouch that hung off his belt. "It's in no danger of being stolen. The Masamune can only be wielded by the one who wears the Hero Medal, and it is not as simple as just giving the sword to another. Even with the Hero Medal the sword can reject you. It has been the tradition of Guardia that His Majesty the King determines who is worthy of the sword. If the king believes that none of his knights are worthy of the Masamune then no one shall wield it."

"I take it King Guardia hasn't chosen a successor for the sword then?" Flare said with a frown. "If not, how are we going to take it?"

"The king chose a successor the day my brother died."

"Who?" Flare asked.

"Me." Randall pulled a golden disc from his leather pouch; the medallion hung on a simple leather cord. "His Majesty chose me to wield the sword in the name of Guardia. When I refused, telling him of my intentions of hunting down, Kyui Wara he did not recant his choice. Even though I forsook my duty as a Knight of Guardia; the Masamune is mine by right."

"So instead of using it in your personal quest for vengeance you chose to enshrine your brother's grave," Flare said.

"Not exactly," Randall responded. "If I believed that the Masamune could have helped me achieve my vengeance I would have taken it without hesitation. Killing one such as Kyui Wara would not tarnish the blade, but my sin is not wanting to avenge my brother's murder. My sin is forsaking the Kingdom I swore to serve and protect to do so. I don't believe the Masamune would have aided me in a quest I put before the good of the Kingdom. To help you find Xavius; however, is a separate matter. This is a quest I believe worthy of the Masamune."

Randall hung the Hero Medal from his neck, tucking the medallion underneath his shirt and leather armor. He reached out and grabbed the legendary sword in both hands. Flare's breath caught in his throat. The sudden thought of the Masamune rejecting Randall as its wielder chilled him to the core. The fear evaporated as the sword easily slid out of the tombstone it had been sheathed in.

"Come," Randall said. "The Masamune's scabbard is in the house I used to call home. It's not too far out of the way as we head back to the docks."

Following Randall, wielder of the legendary Masamune, they left the cemetery. At the docks the Sea Salamander awaited their return, so it could ferry them back to Isle Ratcleff, and in essence, to the Gate that would lead to Xavius.