Chapter 1: Garm

In case you were wondering, here's a brief geographical description of olden day Magvel:

Reinharch: Present day Renais and Grado.

Auracia: Present day Carcino.

Valni: Present day Frelia

Lagdou: Present day Lagdou Ruins, half or present day Rausten.

Delmain: Present day Jehanna

Serran: Half of present day Rausten

Deathlands: Half of present day Darkling Woods, Melkaen Coast, Neleras Peak.

Darkling Reach: Present day Black Temple

Grado woke up inside the shady confines of the temple. His head ached and his body was not in the best condition either. He groaned and tried to sit up, but waves of nausea forced him down again.

At once a presence was at his side, reassuring him, pressing a slim hand onto his chest. He felt it's smoothness and looked up.

He saw a beautiful girl staring at him. She had wavy blonde hair that fell just short of her neck, and a face smooth with puberty, but seemingly worn with experience. She wore the garb of a healer, and was of medium build. He was about half a head taller than her, Grado estimated. He admired the slim legs and body curvature, then felt ashamed of lusting after a cleric.

This time he managed to sit up.

'Uh… Who are you?' he blurted out, regretting his bluntness immediately.

The girl fidgeted. 'I am called Latona,' she replied, pressing him down again. 'You need to rest. I found you unconscious, almost feverish with bael venom. You aren't strong enough to move yet.'

Grado laid on the ground, closing his eyes. The buzzing in his head seemed to subside.

'So you saved me.' A rhetorical question.

'Yes.' She fidgeted nervously.

'What's the matter?' Grado asked her.

'Well, I needed to get you into a sheltered area, so I brought your into the temple grounds…'

She was interrupted as Grado leapt up, drawing his Silver Sword immediately, observing his surroundings. It was all dark, the walls of the courtyard carved with ancient runes of a race that existed long ago. Lichen grew everywhere, and trinkets no longer of value lay scattered on the ground.

'Be careful,' he warned, a hand on Latona's shoulder.

'I know,' she smiled, a radiant eminence. 'It is not as if I have not seen the servants of the Dread One before.'

Grado cast around his mind, searching for that piece of information he knew. He found it. 'Ah,' he said. 'You are one of those Healers who have settled at the edge of Darkling Woods?'

'Had settled,' she corrected him, her face beginning to falter. Grado glanced at her. So that was why a girl like her was alone. The rest of her clan was dead.

'I'm sorry.'

Latona smiled. 'It is too late for them now. I am the last of the Rausten Order. I must make sure it survives.'

'A great burden.' He told her.

'But one I must keep.' Latona stood up and dusted off her cleric's dress, causing it to ride up her thighs. Grado's face flushed hotly. He had better stop being perverted, he admonished himself.

Grado sighed. He hadn't felt so strangely about a women since Nieve.

It was the day the Dread One's monsters first set foot on Reinharch. Grado had returned to his homeland after finally leaving the mercenary group. Carcino was gone. Dead, some said. But Grado never really believed it. After all their journeys, the old man was too stubborn to die like that.

He had grown a lot in two years. But it was time to leave.

He had returned home to organize Reinharch's defenses. The Dread One's influence was spreading, slowly but insidiously. There would be no avoiding it. Reinharch must go to war.

The castle lords had heard of Grado. His reputation preceded him. They had also heard of the revenants and the other dark creatures that now prowled the land. They were happy to land him troops.

Other lords still argued against this. He was a mercenary. He could not be trusted. What if he used those troops to seize power?

Grado sighed. These political squabbles were annoying at the very least. He had no desire for what they called power. True power could only be gained on the battlefield, fighting to protect what was yours. Power could not be gained by sitting pretty in manors and castles all day.

'Excuse me?'

Grado turned, surprised. A young woman of about twenty stood before him, dressed in a soldier's uniform. It was form fitting, he observed, and she was beautiful, with long flowing blue hair and an innocent face, not yet ready for battle. The way her legs moved was extremely graceful. This was not a commoner.

'Who are you, soldier?' he asked of her, curious about this one.

The woman blushed. 'I am Nieve. I was sent here to fight with you.'

Grado studied the weapon she held. It was a Rapier, a blade of the finest quality, strong and lightweight. It was only given to lords or their offspring. Nieve was definitely a noble.

Grado turned away. One such as her was not suited for the field of battle.

'Go home,' he instructed. 'The battlefield is no place for someone like you.'

'What? Because I am a woman?' Nieve flared up.

'No.' Grado shook his head. 'Because you are a noble.'

Nieve's eyes hardened. 'It's all about perception, isn't it? Lords always cower in their castles and send their knights to battle. No more. I came here even though I was forbidden. I want to fight.'

Grado studied her more closely. This one was interesting. He had already decided to let her fight.

He turned towards the forest. 'What do you know of fighting?'

Nieve shrugged. 'I have received training in fencing.'

Grado sighed. 'Those friendly matches you had in your safe home are not enough. This isn't the castle. People die. Fear is a powerful enemy. Just because you can fight doesn't mean you have the will to do it.'

'I do.' Nieve's face showed resolution. 'I will fight. My brother is fighting as well, and it is our duty to defend our homeland.'

Somewhere ahead, there was a yell. Dark shapes were advancing out of the forest.

'Looks like you will get your chance.' Grado bent and picked up his Battle Axe. 'Come with me.'

Nieve followed obediently as Grado rushed to meet the attackers.

The stench was nauseating. The revenants were everywhere, tearing through the Reinharch Defense slowly but surely. They stopped short at the knights, though, whose powerful armor prevented them from getting rent by those claws. The Knights quickly cut the revenants to ribbons with lances.

Then out of the woods came a new threats. Horsemen. Tarvos and Maelduin. They wielded fearsome axes, each larger than a human head. Grado jumped up and brought the axe to bear, severing man and horse. The Tarvos tumbled down dead.

Nieve was slashing with her rapier left and right, showing immense courage in the face of such daunting adversaries. Her brow shone with sweat. The Tarvos kept missing her, and she kept striking home. The rapier shone as she pierced the tarvos defense.

Mercenaries leapt out from the knight ranks as they retreated, swift and strong, cutting through the Tarvos and dodging counterblows. The battle was now in Grado's favor.

Grado roared and smashed a maelduin, trying to join up with the main force, Nieve bringing up the rear. Then the bael came out of the woods. They were huge and accurate, with lethal talons. The entire Reinharch army rose to meet them, overpowering the bael with sheer force.

Suddenly a General roared as something sliced past it's Great Armor, something unexpected. Chilling apparitions materialized from nowhere. These were the most powerful of the Dread One's vanguard, the shadow wraiths. They were untouchable by normal weapons, and quickly cut a swath through the knights. Grado fell back, unable to do anything against the new threat.

Light arced from the ranks, smashing the Wraiths. The Bishops were ready, their magic crushing monsters. Unfortunately, they had low stamina, and needed to be shored up by an entire phalanx of Knights.

Still, that didn't matter. They were winning. The monsters were retreating, and the army was cheering. The day had been won.

Suddenly, a talons raked Grado's side, sending him to the ground. He groaned and stood up as a bael scuttled towards him. This one was determined to fight. Grado tried to stand up, but a searing pain ripped through him and he sank to the ground, groping for his weapon.

The bael reached him and used it's talons to heave Grado's weapon away. Grado rolled on the ground and evaded a backswing, but was doomed if he could not reach his axe.

Suddenly, the bael reared back, shrieking as Nieve backed away, Rapier at the ready. The bael focused on Nieve, scuttling towards her, angered and ready for a kill.

Run, Grado tried to say, but words failed him.

Nieve seemed resolute. She stepped back slowly, and suddenly lunged forward. The thrust was powerful, and carried much more power than a normal attack. The bael, surprised, died instantly as Nieve pierced it's ragged, hairy hide.

Nieve lowered her Rapier, breathing heavily. Her eyes met Grado's.

Grado smiled. 'Come,' he beckoned. 'I think we are going to know each other much better.'

He turned to leave.

Nieve, smiling slightly, followed him, her skill proven.

'Be careful,' Grado told Latona as they entered the confines of the temple. Latona smiled slightly. She had insisted on accompanying Grado. Her presence was needed, she had argued. He was still weak from the venom. Grado was secretly glad to have her along, but did not voice his thoughts out loud.

There seemed to be no baels, gargoyles or whatnot inside the temple. That was most likely bad news. It meant that whatever was inside the temple was a bigger threat.

Steam hissed from the walls. Grado reacted instinctively, pushing Latona to one side and taking cover as a purplish substance coated the ground. The insects that had been crawling about suddenly convulsed, thrashing about with feelers and tiny clawed legs against the harsh stone floor until they went still.

'Poison gas,' Grado murmured. He would have to be more careful.

Time passed like the beat of a sparrow's wings, and they found themselves darting through corridors left and right, carefully avoiding the traps set in place ages ago.

Latona was tiring. Even though Grado was wounded, his physical stamina still far surpassed that of Latona. Her breathing was becoming heavier, as if a stone was crushing into her lungs.

Suddenly her legs wavered, and her step faltered. She slumped against the cool, polished stone walls of the temple, and she pressed her lithe hands to her forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat that had formed on her brow.

Grado quickly pushed her to the floor, forcing her to sit down and rest. 'Take deep breaths,' he advised her, panicking as her lips started to lose their redness.

'It's kind of ironic, isn't it,' she mumbled. 'The patient, looking after his healer.'

'Hush.' Grado told her. They would stop for a while.

'It's not exhaustion.' She whispered, grasping his hand. He felt a shock go up his spine as their flesh met. Her palm was cold, yet warm at the same time, a paradoxical mix of emotions.

Suddenly a rumbling sound reached his ears. Something was stirring. Something was moving on the path directly in front of them.

'See?' Latona admonished him quietly. 'A power, so great, so near. It hurts me just to be in it's presence. We are nearing what you seek, but the price exacted may be more than you can give.'

Grado turned towards her, half curious. 'How come I can't sense this great force?'

Latona coughed, drawing in a deep breath, then letting it out. She looked so pale. 'We of the Rausten Order have always been more sensitive to magical power than most. It is a curse, perhaps, that comes with our innate healing abilities.'

Grado found that interesting. If the Rausten Order had been able to sense great sources of magical power and were affected by it, then what was it like for Latona to have lived so close to the Demon King's abode?

A rumbling gigantic sound interrupted their chat. Grado drew his Silver Sword, and drew a sharp breath as a golem four times as tall as him came into view.

Even through the shadows, Grado could see that the workmanship for this mechanical automation was perfect. It was made out of smooth darkstone, polished to a sheen, it's head a plated mask that seemed to contain an inner fire. An unknown mechanism powered it's arms and legs, and it wore the darkstone battle armor all over it's body. It carried two gigantic axes that looked as if they could cleave the wall into half.

It moved forward silently as Latona shuddered. Grado quickly moved to defend her, his mind whirling with the prospect of facing down a behemoth. That elder bael had been nothing compared to this monstrosity.

Once, he had needed to do the same. And in a way, it had led to this.

'What have you called me for, teacher?' Grado enquired pleasantly as he faced his master. He had trained with Carcino for a long time, and they had traveled Magvel, gaining valuable experience with each battle. What was once a thriving mercenary group had now evolved into a small band of skilled fighters. Grado though that they were more effective this way. He had grown much. Puberty had taken it's full effect. Grado was powerfully built, not bulging with muscles like some Berserkers, but one could see he was strong and deadly. His hair hung parted over his forehead, a jet black color. His eyes were expressive, and his face was handsome and filled with experience. Women had propositioned him, but he had shown no interest in anything other than battling. It was an art he meant to perfect.

'You have grown much.' Carcino told him. quietly. Grado nodded. 'I am honored by your compliment.'

'Yes, yes.' Carcino waved a bony finger around. 'I'm not getting any younger, you know. Before I die, I might have a few tales to share with you.'

Grado started to speak, but Carcino interrupted. 'Let me tell you the story of Excalibur.'

Grado sat back,apprehensive. Excalibur. Even after two years, he still could not forget its might, the way those wind currents sliced through the revenants as if they were made of paper.

'Excalibur,' Carcino began, pacing around the tent, 'was actually a sword. One of several Sacred Weapons of the old world, a day when the sciences were far more advanced than of today. It was wielded by a just and kind king. Then one day, a cataclysmic disaster occurred, wiping out half of all humankind. The body, the metal of Excalibur was vaporized, but it's essence lived on. You see, nothing really destroys a Sacred Weapon. It is made of pure essence, designed to last for millenniums. Even if the world were to end, the Sacred Weapons would still be there. Later on, a master scholar found the essence of Excalibur and reforged it to use as his own.. He bound the power in a tome, and it retained the properties of the sword it had once been. However, once he passed way, the tome went missing.'

Carcino paused as Grado looked at him stoically, urging him to go on.

'I found it buried in the sands of the white dunes, around the outer reaches of Delmain.'

Grado was curious. 'What was the name of the scholar?'

Carcino paused. 'Metis.' He spoke, almost reverently. 'A master of wisdom. His tomes are said to impart real strength. I might have chanced upon his burial ground.' He sighed wistfully. 'I wish I had gone back to look around.'

'Why not now?' Grado urged.

'It is too late.' Carcino sighed again. 'That area is now occupied by the revenats.'

Grado was thinking of another question when he heard a hideous roaring sound and a bloodied mess crashed into the tent.

Grado rolled, evading the axes of the golem just in time, trying to draw attention away from Latona. It seemed to be working, as the golem charged after him, relentless, unstoppable. He charged foolishly into the welcoming double axes, straining to find a weak spot in the darkstone armor.

There was none.

Although Grado's blade was smaller and could cut through the blunter edges of most axes easily, this occasion was an exception. He could not resist the sheer force of the golem, and fell back as the twin axes crushed past his defense and scored hits on his right flank, throwing him all the way across the wide corridor to land, out of breath and dying, against the granite floor. His blood pooled onto the ground, and Grado could feel his energy seeping away.

The golem turned towards a helpless Latona.

'No.' Grado tried to whisper, to stand up, but he had already sustained two wounds today. He was a goner. Only a miracle staff could save him now.

He was going to die, and no one would know where he was, and what had happened to him.

He was going to die, all because of some fool's errand given to him by someone whom he was not even sure was alive.

It was a Cyclops, standing two storeys tall and swinging a gigantic Steel Axe at anything that came within it's range. One of their Mages tried to blast it with fire, but the flames simply bounced off the ragged hide. The Cyclops snarled and bent down, slicing the Mage into half with one flick of an arm. Grado had seen a Cyclops before, but this one was huge.

'It's protected by the Demon King's power.' Carcino stated, his gaze wavering as the Cyclops started to make chop suey of their supply tent.

'We must have done something to risk his ire.' Carcino reached into his robes, and pulled out Excalibur.

'Stand back.'

And they did.

Carcino went forward, facing the Cyclops one to one. The Cyclops grunted and sneered at the old man. A wizened old coot? What challenge was there in that?

It's eyes settled on Grado. A young man, with a strong and well toned body. He would make a good meal.

The Cyclops lunged toward Grado, catching him by surprise.

And that was when Carcino struck.

The power of Excalibur whistled through the air, slicing into the exposed back of the Cyclops mercilessly and laying it bare. The Cyclops roared and swung at Carcino, catching him by surprise and throwing him to the ground.

Excalibur fell from his hands.

The Cyclops hefted it's axe and started towards Carcino menacingly, preparing to eliminate the nuisance before it got worse. Blood ran down it's back freely, and the back skin was flayed to the flesh. Still, the Cyclops advanced.

Grado was helpless The Cyclops was gigantic, and too powerful. He jumped towards it, stabbing with his Steel Blade, but to no avail. It simply shrugged off the blows.

Carcino seemed pinned by the impact, his eyes crunching up in pain as he tried to get to his feet.

Sudddenly, he spotted a Hand Axe lying on the ground, it's owner rent apart. He picked it up, twirling it.

If only he could wield it…

If he could wield it, he would be able to hit the Cyclops' only eye, making it easy pickings for everyone else.

If he could wield it…

Suddenly, Grado drew out the Hero Crest that he had taken from O' Neil's body.

Memories were important, but the present is more important than the past.

One of Carcino's teachings.

Grado absently rubbed the Crest, fingering it. It was time.

And then there was a bright flash.

When it cleared, Grado stood proud and tall, changed somehow. He could feel it in it's bones. The Hero Crest had broken into two, and he stuffed it into his pocket, then picked up the Hand Axe and hurled it with all his might at the eye of the Cyclops.

The edge struck true, and the Cyclops roared, thrashing about. It's axe lowered for a second, and Grado took the chance to leap onto it's axe and jump up to it's shoulder, then to slash at it's neck with his Steel Blade.

The Cyclops flailed about in agony, but could not escape the killing stroke. Over and over Grado hacked, and it finally sank to the ground, causing tremors to ripple out from the point of contact.

Grado lowered his sword, disbelieving. It was over.

The eyes…

Grado moved without thinking. He would get only one chance. Years of experience in battle had honed Grado's senses, and now he knew what to do.

The golem was raising it's axe over Latona, who was trying to crawl away.

Grado yelled in defiance, jumping as high as he could and slicing with his Silver Sword.

It found a hole in the darkstone armor, in the shoulder where the plates shifted to allow ligamental movement.

The golem turned, but it was too late. Grado used the force of the impact to propel himself to the golem's shoulder. He whirled around, contorted his body, and stabbed his sword right into it's eye.

It shrieked in pain, (if it could feel ), as the fire in the helmet distorted and started to waver, then extinguish completely. The golem smashed itself against the floor, no longer a living entity, but a collection of metal. The plates completely separated, and an orange glow surrounded them for a moment before dissipating.

The golem's body finally stopped moving, and it was still .Grado had attacked the very essence of it's machination, and had succeeded. The golem was dead.

'Well, at least that's one obstacle we're done with,' he murmured as he helped Latona to her feet. His wounds ached anew, but he grimaced and forced away the pain. Pain was distracting. He unhitched a vulnerary from his belt and fed it to her as she slumped in his arms. After a while, she could stand and walk again. She smiled weakly.

'Over there…' she pointed at a more polished looking section of the wall.

Grado gently set her down on the ground and began running his hands around the wall.

'Are you sure? I can see no entrance.' He frowned, inspecting every inch of the structure.

'Yes, oh…' Latona moaned as a wave of nausea swept over her.

Grado stared at the wall, puzzled. Then he saw something gleaming amidst the dull, lifeless darkstone armor. He picked it up and saw that it was a gem, flawless and transparent. He held it up to inspect it, and then there was a strange shifting sound.

A section of the wall had slid away, revealing a corridor shrouded in darkness.

Enter, you who have proven your worth by defeating my golem…

Entranced, Grado started towards the corridor, but stopped short as he remembered Latona. He turned to her, but she held up her palm.

'No. I can't go further,' she murmured. 'It would kill me.'

Grado hesitated. 'Will you be all right here alone?' he asked, concerned.

'Yes.' Latona shrugged. 'None of the Demon King's creatures dare enter while this power exists within the temple.

Grado was still reluctant, but there was no choice. He started walking into the inky blackness of the newly revealed pathway.

Choice? There was no choice now, but there had been a choice once, and he was still not sure if his decision had been right.

Carcino breathed heavily, his head lolling around the pillow and his hands clutching the duvets urgently. 'Grado…' he called out, half delirious.

'I am here, Carcino.' Grado crossed the tent in a fluid movement, his abilities strongly enhanced by the power of the Hero Crest. He knelt down beside Carcino's bed. 'You broke some ribs, but you will be fine.'

'The Cyclops?' a bony finger lifted questioningly.

'Dead.'

'Good… good…' the finger sank back down onto the duvets.

Grado stood up, observing his teacher in silence. Was the old man finally dying? It had seemed as if he was immortal, but only the Dread One was immortal.

'Grado…' Carcino called.

'I am here.'

'There is more to the story… of Excalibur.' He coughed weakly, his eyelids closing slightly.

'No. You should rest.' Grado tried to persuade him to rest, but Carcino was a stubborn man.

'There are other Sacred Weapons besides Excalibur. They exist today, protected by guardians ages old, older than the cataclysm that nearly ripped Magvel apart. If we have all of them, we may stand a chance against the Demon King.'

Grado's eyes darted instinctively to the tome at his teacher's bedside. 'Other Sacred Weapons?'

'Yes. Eight in all.' Carcino coughed again, then went on. 'Perhaps, if we find them…'

Grado had no idea how to react to this. The idea of weapons, centuries old, still existing sounded laughable. Still, he listened.

'I learned the supposed location of three of these weapons as I traveled the continent after finding Excalibur. One, an axe, hidden in a temple older than Darkling Reach itself, near the outer edges of Lagdou. The second, a light tome, hidden in a cave on the Melkaen Coast. Third, a dark tome, hidden in the mountains all the way north of the continent, a relic of an old order.'

Grado smoothed back his hair briefly, before asking, 'And you intend to find them?'

'Yes.' Carcino's voice grew weaker. 'And you must do the same.'

'What?' Grado was astounded. 'Go traipsing halfway across the continent on a wild goose chase?'

Carcino coughed again, now in his own little world. 'Remember…'

Then he was asleep, and Grado quietly left the tent to ponder on his words.

The next day, Carcino had disappeared with a trace, taking Excalibur. No one knew what had happened, and the last to see him was Grado. Rumors flew around. Some said that Carcino had run away to die in a remote place, not wanting people to see that he, the great sage, was in such a pathetic state. Some said that he had simply left the group, preferring a simpler life. Some even said that Grado had done something to him, blinded with desire to become the leader of their mercenary group.

Eventually, Grado left for Reinharch to help protect his homeland against the Dread One. He never saw Carcino again, but he never forgot the last word spoken to him by the old man.

'Remember.'

He had remembered, and had come, thinking it was a wild goose chase. Somehow he had never believed Carcino was dead, and in his heart, he knew the sage had been right. He had left Nieve in charge of defending Reinharch, and had left in search of the Sacred Weapons.

Now he might actually see one of them for himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the corridor ended in a room layered in gold. Tons of it. It was everywhere, and after the darkness of the corridor, Grado was blinded.

Then he saw the axe. It was large and shiny, seeming just like an ordinary Tomahawk. But Grado knew it was not. Even from a distance, he could see the fine worksmanship, an edge so fine that it could cut through even the defenses of the Dread One. And it was infused with some sort of supernatural power. He could sense it. It permeated the room.

Eager to touch the axe, he moved forward.

Suddenly a figure materialized in front of him, and Grado jumped back in alarm, drawing his Silver Sword.

'Who are you?' he questioned. The man seemed ageless, his gaunt face filled with wisdom, and something else. Weariness. Grado had thought that the guardian Carcino had meant was the golem, but it had been actually this man. He wore the robes of a druid, and held a staff made of a fusion of darkstone and polished teak. He stared at Grado, unflinching.

'I am Garm.' The figure intoned. 'I am one of the few who were destroyed in the cataclysm, but I was bound to this axe instead of entering the world of the dead. It rests here, ready to battle the evil that is taking hold of this land, waiting for a wielder. Are you that wielder?'

His gaze seemed to penetrate all, and Grado flinched. He held the gaze, insolent. This man, or ghost, would not scare him. 'I came all this way looking for it,' he replied, 'so I guess I am.'

Garm didn't move Instead, he held up the darkstaff. 'How do I know you have the strength, the courage, to wield the axe? A weapon is only as powerful as it's wielder.'

'I am.' Grado insisted. He started forward.

'Prove it to me.'

Suddenly a bolt of dark magic surged out of the darkstaff. Grado rolled to his left and narrowly avoided the bolt. It had singed his belt, and he winced. It was disintegrating under the touch of the magic. He quickly unbuckled it and threw it away, then stood to meet Garm.

'If you can take the axe from me, it shall be yours.' Garm warped into thin air, then reappeared next to the golden stand which held the axe suspended.

'Brace yourself.'

More bolts of energy leapt out of the staff at Grado, who managed to dodge them all. However, he could not get closer. He was concentrating all his energy simply on avoiding the dark magic. Dark magic was supposed to be slow, but Garm was like a speed demon. Over and over he attacked Grado, as Grado barely dodged each strike and managed to get closer each time.

He was slowly closing on Garm. I just need to grab it… Grado spurred himself on. He leapt into the air to avoid another bolt of dark magic, and was at Garm's side.

'Very good. But it will not be enough.' Garm raised his fingers, conjuring a pure wave of dark energy. It seemed to come all at once, like a crashing wave, and knocked Grado clear of Garm.

Grado landed painfully on the floor, nausea gripping him as he tried to stand. His wound had opened and was starting to bleed. He closed his eyes as three bolts of dark magic arced toward him at once.

It was over.

Nieve lunged clear of Grado's stroke in time, and parried it deftly. Her fingers turned decisively, and she bent low and twisted, slapping her wooden sword against Grado's thigh. He made a mock groan as she somersaulted behind him and rapped him on the head.

'See, you can beat me.' He teased her, catching her waist playfully. Nieve twisted away, her face red hot. Grado realized that he was flirting with her.

'You went easy on me.' She accused, poking the tip of his nose with the wooden sword.

'No.' Grado pushed away the sword firmly. 'You are a good fighter. It's just that you specialize in speed and precision, while I prefer more raw power.'

Nieve smiled at what she perceived to be a compliment.

'And anyway, I'm going to be leaving soon, so you had better have confidence in yourself as the army commander.'

Her head snapped up, her eyes disbelieving. 'You are leaving? Where? When?'

Grado shrugged. 'Soon. To look for the Sacred Weapons.'

Nieve closed her eyes. 'Do you really believe what your teacher told you?'

She was the only one to whom Grado had confided to the story told to him by the vanished Carcino.

'He was always right about everything. Maybe he was right about this.'

Grado was not so sure, actually, but he needed to do something. They were being pushed back slowly by an endless amount of monsters of all sorts. Already the border was under the Dread One's control. Soon it would be the whole of Reinharch. Something had to be done. It was better to have a fat hope than no hope at all.

'Well..' Nieve paused. 'If you do go…'

Suddenly she was at his side, kissing him on the cheek.

'Come back safely.' She whispered in his ear before turning and leaving the sparring room.

Come back safely.

A lot depended on this axe, Grado realized. This was no time to give up. If he did, he would be a coward. Garm might be too powerful, but he would fight on and on and on until he could fight no more. At least he would have the honor. The honor of a true warrior.

Grado ducked clear of the bolts of dark magic, galvanized. Time seemed to slow as he bounded towards Garm, clearly delirious, throwing his sword into the air, jumping up and grabbing it, slicing downwards…

He could see Garm, holding up the staff, surprised. He started to raise it, to summon a spell, but he seemed slower this time.

And then Grado's sword sliced the staff cleanly into two, and the ghost of the one named Garm screamed as the sword ripped through his cloak, and then he dissipated into millions of tiny particles.

Grado lowered his sword and stood up unsteadily.

It was over.

No. It is not yet over. Not by far.

'Garm?' Grado spun around and around in circles, trying to locate the ghost.

Yes.

'What do you want?' Grado asked, feeling foolish talking to thin air.

To see the Demon King dead.

'Why?'

He was our mistake, the source of all our troubles… He should plague this world no more.

Grado was confused. The source of their troubles? The Demon King had been part of the old world?

Your quest is not yet over.

Grado just stood there, waiting to hear the rest of what Garm had to say.

The girl, she is instrumental in defeating the Demon King. But she must first overcome the fear that the magic invokes in her. It is inborn, perhaps that way with everyone, but it can be overcome. Seek the light tome.

'Latona? I should seek the light tome together with her?' Grado called out.

Yes. Now I must go to the realm of the dead. My soul will be gone, but some part of me will always be with this axe. Take comfort from that, Grado, child of Reinharch, for your task is great and cannot be accomplished alone.

Grado started towards the stand. 'Task? What else do I have to do?'

There will be others, others like you and the girl.

Grado's hand closed around the haft of the axe, and he lifted it, feeling a warm surge of energy entering him.

'What do I have to do?' he mouthed the question, to no one in particular, but to himself.

Seek them out.

Grado started towards the corridor.

Remember.

The axe seemed to shimmer slightly, and for a moment there seemed to be some dusk settling about it. A moment later, the dust was gone.

His new axe. His own Sacred Weapon.

Garm was a part of it, and thus Garm it would be.

Grado walked purposefully towards Latona as he emerged into the temple corridors, his new axe clutched in his hands. She was standing, staring at him curiously.

'This is a Sacred Weapon, Garm.' And he told her everything that had happened, and everything that he would have to do.

'If the fates decree it, then I will come with you.' She smiled and placed her hand on his arm.

Grado touched her shoulder. 'Then let us be going.'

No sooner were they out of the temple when it collapsed, the stone groaning in protest, as the centuries old foundation finally started to weaken.

The crash was great and the wreckage rose clouds of dust that enclosed Grado and Latona for several moments before it cleared.

They walked out of the dust cloud, coughing heavily, but what waited outside was a larger concern.

They had been surrounded in every direction by revenants.