The Twin Swords

Part 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Seiken Densetsu, its objects, things, characters, stuff, places, junk, and anything I am neglecting to mention here. I own a copy of Sword of Mana, a copy of Legend of Mana, the names Reikku and Kari for the lead characters in SoM, and... um... dats about it. I no claim, you no sue.

NOTE ON NAMES: The hero is Reikku and the heroine is Kari.

The sun was high in the sky, masked temporarily by soft cotton bundles of clouds. The sky was bluer than a robin's egg. The green hills rolled across the terrain, dotted by clumps of green bushes and trees, and the cobbled path wound through them like a soft, furred cat's tail. Across several of these hills, and down the pale wooded path, lay a tree.

It was a huge tree, gnarled with venerable age; its boughs and branches spread in radii of hundreds of yards from the focal point of the trunk. The highest leaves were hundreds of miles from the hilltops, let alone from the little valley where the tree itself was rooted. A thin white picket fence, carved with many sigils of protection, surrounded the gargantuan trunk.

Cresting a far hill, a youth clad in armor caught sight of the tree and paused, gaping.

"Oh, Goddess and glory," he said softly, his deep bass voice leaving a momentary echo in the stillness. "Just look at it!" Under the burnished plates of steel covering his torso and shoulders, the young teen was wearing homespun clothes of navy blue and royal purple. He had shoulder-length, messy auburn hair and wide eyes with the irises an emeraldine shade not far from black. A sword was sheathed at his waist, within easy reach of a gauntleted hand, but his expression was honest enough to show that he hadn't been in much combat besides the everyday battles with monsters.

An old man stumped up beside the boy, smiling at his companion's shocked expression. He was bent as though under a heavy load of weary years, and nearly as gnarled and wizened as the tree. His short gold hair stood up in tufts, and his wrinkled skin was tinted slightly green. His eyes were different colors; one blue and one hazel brown. This strange assortment of features was almost all that showed from under a tan hemp shawl which reached to the man's sandals, parting only for the head and one clawlike hand, which clutched at an oaken staff.

"Cibba-sensei, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," the youth said earnestly to his elder, unable to tear his eyes away from the tree. "Glory! And such power!" He took a deep breath. "Goddess! The power itself is enough to keep the land around pure for miles and miles. It's so unbelievably amazing. Just breathing this air, I feel like a new person!" He smiled. "Sensei, you've been here so many times... Mavole or no, I'm guessing that this tree's aura alone has been sustaining you through all your years."

The old man, Cibba, laughed. "You may not be far off the mark." His voice was high and slightly reedy, though still strong. "Come now, Vandole. You can ogle the Mana Tree later, when we're closer. For now, let's have some lunch." He walked calmly off the path, leaving the boy named Vandole staring stupidly at the tree.

"What...? Lunch...? Oh. Yeah. Lunch. Uh, okay." Shaking his head as though to clear it, Vandole trotted after his teacher, still sneaking peeks back at the tree.

Master and apprentice sat down at the top of a hill after unfolding a blanket and spreading it on the grass. From the folds of his shawl, Cibba produced a picnic basket, which he opened as Vandole flopped onto his back and stared at the sapphire sky.

"This is such an amazing world," he said dreamily as he looked up into the clouds. "The Mana Goddess must have been such a wonderful woman to have created all of this. And here, in the sanctuary, it's all as pure and good as if the world had just been made, and there were no humans around." He sighed deeply. "If only humans were good enough to keep the world the way it was here. If they didn't create wars and killing and horrible things. And if they didn't make the night a thing to be feared."

Cibba smiled at his pupil. "You've come such a very long way from the day that I found you all alone outside the ruins of a burned mansion. You're starting to grow up. I'm proud of you."

"Whaddaya mean, starting? Are you implying that I've been a little kid in mentality up till now?" Vandole put on a pout, though he was obviously covering up a smile. Giving up, he rolled onto his side. "I'm just happy that you've given me the chance to come here, where the world is still young."

"And to see the Mana Tree, of course." Cibba smiled at the expression of bliss on Vandole's face. The boy was so innocent of mind--it was hard to believe the hints that Cibba had seen of there being a darker side to the child, which lay unrealized at the back of his subconscious. He'd taken on the youth simply because he would not see that more evil side realized or nurtured in any way. And with his help, Vandole was growing into a good, kindhearted adult. "The Mana Tree... the very object of which purity is born in this world. Long, long ago, when the earth was still young and all was void, the Mana Goddess came upon the bare world."

"And she created the trees and the spirits," Vandole said, teasing a strand of grass with one finger. "The elemental spirits--Wisp, Salamander, Undine, Jinn, Dryad, Gnome, Aura, Luna, and Shade--helped her to form everything in this world, from the plants to the people."

"They brought form to light in the Mana Clan, who protect the Mana in all that is living," Cibba continued. "They brought form to darkness in the Mavoles, who nurture the unfortunate and link the worlds of human and beast. They brought form to clay and ores and created the mortal beings of this world, and there are many."

"Humans and half-animals and demons and Jumi and dwarves and Dudbears and monsters..." Vandole ticked them off on his fingers. "Sirens and merpeople and basilisks and animals and faeries and all kinds of things. The Goddess has a place in her heart for each and every one."

"The Goddess held two very important things," Cibba said, staring up at the sky. "The light of Hope, and the Sword of Mana. In time, she cast away the Sword. No one knows why, although some say it was to preserve peace and quench the hateful desires of the mortal heart. But we do know that the Sword rusted the moment it left her hand, and can only shine when a truly brave and pure soul holds it in his hands, or her hands, with a strong conviction. And then, she transformed herself into the Mana Tree, which gives life and birth to every living thing as it is born, and watches over all its children."

Vandole flopped onto his back and looked up at Cibba. "Sensei, is the Mana Tree really the Goddess? Or is it just an old legend or superstition?"

"Only the Goddess herself knows the answer to that question," Cibba replied. "We'll be approaching the Tree soon, so you can look for as long as you like. But remember, Vandole--you mustn't touch the Tree itself."

"Why?" Vandole sat up, puzzled, shaking grass out of his hair.

"I believe the Tree holds great peril for you..." Cibba could not truly explain without destroying Vandole's innocence for good, so he kept silent and prayed that the boy would listen. "Just do not touch it." He grasped his pupil's hands and looked into his eyes urgently. "Whatever you do, don't touch the Tree. It may be a matter of life and death, when it comes to something so sacred."

"Uh, okay." Vandole looked utterly confused, but he was still ready to obey his master, the only father he'd ever known. "Sure I won't. If it's that important to you..."

Cibba inwardly breathed a heavy sigh of relief. There was no need to doubt the boy's word as long as he was pure of heart.

---

"Wow." Once again, Cibba hid a chuckle at Vandole's amazement. "If anything, I think it's even more amazing close up!" The youth looked shyly down at his teacher. "Sensei... how close am I allowed...?"

"You can get as close as you want," Cibba replied. "The Goddess knows all and loves all. You should be safe."

"You think so?" Vandole asked, although he was already walking hesitantly forward. There was a slight ruffle of wind as he passed the fence, and some of the sigils lit up, but nothing happened. Cibba waited with bated breath, hoping that he hadn't inadvertantly put his apprentice in danger.

Suddenly, he stopped dead, about a foot from the Tree.

Cibba reached for his pouch of sacred sand, digging out a fistful and whispering a spell of magical sight. The auras of everything became visible in a bright glow of emerald and bronze and white; but it was Vandole's that Cibba watched with growing alarm.

The youth's aura was normally green-gold, showing that he was apprenticed in the arts of Dryad and was still pure-hearted and good, but it was slowly changing to a sickly red-orange.

"Vandole!" Cibba cried. "Vandole, you mustn't!"

It was as though the boy didn't hear. As if he were in a dream, he slowly raised one hand, reaching up and out, and placed it on the trunk of the Tree.

All the sigils on the fence glowed with a hot and angry white, and a funnel of holy wind tore Vandole away from the tree. Suspended in the eye of the storm, the boy at first tried to fight, but eventually just curled into a little ball, whimpering in pain as flashes of pure Mana crackled and sparked around his body.

And all through that time, a green light began to gather in Vandole's body, making him glow with pure power. It was what Cibba had feared. When touching the Tree, Vandole had directed the flow of Mana into his own body. Eventually, the Tree would wither and die from the lack of power, and unless Vandole could quickly regain control, he, too, would be killed.

Cibba's words had only created temptation. He cursed himself over this fault repeatedly. Now, everything in the world might suffer.

The storm ceased; Vandole fell to the ground heavily. Wild-eyed from pain and fright, he looked at his master, droplets of blood springing to his eyes like tears. "You said I would be safe," he whispered in a voice broken from screaming. "You lied to me..."

The hurt and betrayal in that voice would haunt Cibba forever.

Vandole's eyes changed to black, empty pits as he stood through the pain. "I am my own master now." He raised one hand, gathering Mana into it, and fired a blast at the old man.

With that blast, everything that Cibba had worked so hard to create vanished.

Vandole, the pure-hearted and innocent boy he had fostered, was gone.

This channel for evil was all that remained.

(TBC)