Reunion:
Dust didn't even look in Kalyn's direction as he ran past where he knew she was hiding, but given that the Captain of the Guard had ordered his men to pursue him as soon as he'd run that was probably for the best. He couldn't risk putting his best friend's life in danger, not when the village was in enough turmoil as it was.
"STOP HIM!" a roar came from behind him. Dust didn't dare looking back and kept moving west towards where he and Kalyn had just been having their picnic. "DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"
A few grunts and cries told Dust that there were those trying to stop the chase, but the attempts were in vain as an arrow spun past Dust's shoulder and a spear sailed over his head, forcing him to quickly redirect his path around it. Dust knew that his lack of armour gave him a speed advantage, but he didn't know how long that would last — he needed the strength to climb the valley. As he ran, Dust also couldn't stop the questions racing through his mind at equal speed.
Why was the Royal Guard hunting Moonbloods?
Why were they also after him?
Why were they looking for a white fox-Warmblood?
Why shouldn't he even exist?
Dust had barely scaled the valley as he kept running west, not knowing why because there was nothing there apart from the Glade (and how safe would that place be?), when he finally glanced over his shoulder to see if he was still being chased. Sure enough, there was practically an entire battalion on his tail…almost literally. The move proved a mistake as Dust stumbled over his own feet, not looking where he was going. Cursing himself, Dust made for the trees. If he could hide, he may be able to wait things out…
"AH!" Dust cried as a knife nicked his arm. Distracted by the stinging pain that shot through him, Dust stumbled again and this time tripped over a tree root as a nearby herd of deer scattered in the commotion. Soldiers surrounded him, blocking off his escape routes as he scrambled backwards with his eyes flashing in terror.
"Out of the way!" a order barked. The soldiers parted to reveal the Captain of the Guard, standing over the teenager in the same imposing way he'd stood over the injured Ginger back in Aurora. Dust could do nothing except stare at the man in sheer terror as he unsheathed a sabre and pointed it at his throat. "What is your name, boy?"
"D…D…Dust…" Dust stammered, knowing it probably wasn't the best idea but his mother had already shouted it back at the village when she told him to run. There wasn't any point in lying.
"Your real name, child!" the Captain barked. Dust flinched but couldn't stop his brow furrowing ever so slightly in confusion. Real…name?
"Wha…what do you mean?" he asked feebly. "I told you! My name's Dust!"
"Do not lie to me, boy!" the Captain yelled, kicking Dust to the ground as he struggled to stand. "Where are you from? And what were you doing in Aurora?"
"P…Please! I live there!" Dust begged, covering his face in fear. "I don't know where I came from! Mom found me as a baby…!"
"Can it be possible…?" the Captain murmured, eerily calm as he seemed to pause in thought. Dust uncovered his eyes to anticipate any further blows. "No…there is no other that you can be!"
"What are you talking about?" Dust cried, grunting when an armoured boot came into contact with his stomach.
"Silence!" the Captain snapped before looking at his men. "Bring him with us. His Majesty will decide his fate."
Dust whimpered in protest as he felt rough hands grabbing his arms and forcing him up onto his knees.
"Wha…what do you want with me?" he murmured pleadingly.
"It is not the place of the one who killed the great General Gaius to ask such questions," the Captain snarled. Dust's eyes flew wide open — what?!
"Wha…? Killed? General Gaius…?" he spluttered. "That's impossible! He died fifteen years ago!"
"Keep quiet!" a soldier barked but by now Dust was certain that they'd all lost their minds.
"Let me go! I've done nothing!" he protested, his vigour restored. "I'm thirteen! There's no way that could have been me!"
"You will hold your tongue, child!" the Captain barked, striking the boy across the face, dazing him. He signalled for the soldiers to drop him — they did so by flinging him across the forest floor. Dust grunted and scrambled back until he hit a tree as the Captain of the Guard stood over him, sword raised as if to strike. "His Majesty has given us orders to bring you to him alive, but if you do not come quietly, then I will deliver judgement in his place!"
Dust let out a cry of terror, closing his eyes and bringing his arms up in a futile attempt to shield himself. Desperate, he let out a shriek as if calling for help…
…but the name he shouted was not one that he recognised.
"AHRAH!"
As if in response to Dust's cry for help, there came a few noises of confusion from the soldiers before a shocked yelp sounded, accompanied by the sound of metal clanging against metal. Dust felt something collide against the palm of his hand — on instinct alone, he closed his hand around it. Daring to open his eyes, Dust gasped in surprise as he saw a sword in his hand, held in a backhanded grip and with a blade shaped like none that he'd ever seen before.
The grip was simple enough, made of a sturdy wood and bound in leather but at the pommel was a pink gem encased in gold. The blade itself was made of a blue-grey metal that Dust couldn't name, with gold veins close to the hilt and a ruby inlaid in the blade itself. Near the end of the blade were a series of five runes that Dust didn't recognise which were glowing bright cyan, giving off a wispy smoke as Dust moved the sword.
But if the sword's appearance wasn't strange enough, what came next nearly made Dust jump right out of his skin.
"You summoned me, Master?" a voice sounded. Dust shrieked and nearly dropped the thing.
"AH! Wha…?!" he stammered in shock. "A…a talking sword?!" Well, there was no other explanation he could think of, especially when the voice came again.
"Now is not the time, Dust," the sword said calmly. Dust blinked in surprise and confusion — how did this thing know his name? "Trust your instincts. Now rise and fight!"
Shaking but gripping the sword tightly in his hands, Dust pushed himself to his feet shifted into a battle-ready stance. The Captain of the Guard and his men…an older soldier…stared at Dust in confusion and one started, seemingly in recognition.
"That sword…" he cried. "I recognise that blade, Captain!"
"Then we have our man," the Captain snarled. Dust gritted his teeth.
"What am I going to have to say to get it through to you?" he snapped. "You've got the wrong fox!"
Feeling a new and foreign strength surge through his body, Dust charged forward as he swung the sword upwards. The sudden charge took the Captain by surprise but he and the rest of his men were quick to respond.
Dust found himself in a one on ten fight. He'd never trained for something like this — all of his duels had been one on one with Corbin back in Aurora — and yet he felt his body move with an ease that came so naturally to him and yet was entirely foreign to him. Cartwheeling and strafing through the mob, Dust let his body guide him as he began to fight back against the soldiers that had been pursuing him.
Before long it was just the Captain of the Guard left. With nothing but the will to survive and escape to guide him, Dust engaged in a duel with the man, parrying blows and striking plenty of his own with the newfound strength that the sword…whatever it was…seemed to give him. After a few minutes, the Captain was sent flying into a tree where he fell unconscious to the ground. It was at that point that Dust seemed to grasp what had just happened.
"I…where did…? How did I…do that?" he panted.
"I will explain everything, Dust," the sword spoke. "But there may be more soldiers, and these ones may wake up soon. For now, continue west."
"There's nothing there except the Glade!" Dust protested, for a moment not really caring that he was carrying a sword that A) spoke and B) somehow knew his name.
"The Glade is protected by a barrier powered by Elysian magic," the sword explained. "It will not allow anyone through who means you harm. You will be safe there."
Making no reply apart from a grunt of understanding, Dust turned tail and continued running towards the west, this time not daring to look back over his shoulder for fear that he would get distracted and lose his footing again. He recognised the path he was taking — his mother had walked him along this same path to show him where she'd found him. That had been when he was five, but he still remembered it eight years later.
The shimmer in the air wasn't something he recalled though. Assuming that this was the barrier that the sword had mentioned, Dust closed his eyes and charged forward — he felt nothing around him but stumbled to a stop to catch his breath. Pausing for a moment, the barrier seemed more obvious on the inside — how had he missed this before? Or had it not been up before? Through it, the rest of the forest appeared as if Dust were looking through a wall of water.
His energy spent, Dust kept trudging forwards until finally he found himself in the Glade. Wildflowers grew in the patches of sunlight that streamed through the thick foliage above him, creating a circle around a soft patch of grass which Dust promptly collapsed into in exhaustion. At the same time, he dropped the sword to the ground but it didn't remain there for long — after a second or two, it began floating by his side, hilt down and runes flashing as it spoke.
"Give yourself a moment, Master," it said soothingly. It took a few seconds but Dust soon got enough air back in his lungs to repair the stitch that had flared in his side as well as to speak.
"Wha…what's going on here?" he whispered, shaking in confusion and eyes twitching.
"Calm yourself, Dust," the sword said gently. "We are safe here. Take deep breaths. I understand that this must be a lot to take in." Oh, Dust was anything but calm at this moment in time.
"You are a talking, flying sword!" the teenager spat incredulously as he fell back into a sitting position. "Of course it's a lot to take in!" He paused for a fraction of a second before asking the next question on his mind. "And how do you know my name, anyway?"
"For the same reason that you know mine," the sword replied calmly. "You are my fated sword bearer." What?
"I don't know your name!" Dust protested. "And what do you mean by 'fated sword bearer'?"
"It would appear that reintroductions are in order. Very well," the sword said, with every bit of calmness as it had the moment it appeared in Dust's hand. "I am the Blade of Ahrah," it introduced. "I am one of the five Blades of Elysium. My power is yours to command."
"The…Blade of Ahrah?" Dust repeated. He had shouted out 'Ahrah' in desperation when the Captain of the Guard had nearly run him through. The name felt so familiar as it rolled off his tongue…where had he heard it before? "Did I…summon you because I needed help?"
"It certainly seemed that way, Master," Ahrah replied. "And it appears that I was not a moment too soon."
"You got that right…" Dust murmured when the brief calm quiet was suddenly broken by a screech through the trees.
"HEEEEEEEEY!"
"EEK! What the…?!" Dust yelped, jumping about a foot in the air and landing on his backside again in shock. "I thought you said it was safe here!" he cried. The Blade of Ahrah remained unfazed.
"I did not lie about that, Dust," it insisted. "What approaches is not an enemy."
Dust highly doubted that the small, orange, flying cat-thing that came into the Glade moments later would have proven much of a challenge even if it had meant to hurt him.
"Huff…huff…" it panted. "What…what's the big idea?" the creature snapped, its voice revealing it to be a female. Dust yelped in surprise again — he knew what kind of creature this was… And she seemed to be talking to the sword. "That's the third time you've flown off without warning! Do you know how annoying that is for me?" it reprimanded.
"A…is that a nimbat?!" Dust spluttered. He'd only had a freaking doll that looked exactly like this creature since his was a baby — Ginger had told him that she'd found it with him in the Glade. Ahrah took no notice of Dust's outburst and answered the nimbat as calm as ever.
"The circumstances called for quick action," it explained. "Dust required my immediate assistance. There was no time for explanations." Wait, these two knew each other? Ahrah's explanation only seemed to irritate the nimbat further.
"You could have said that rather than fly off without a word again!" the orange creature retorted. "Do you even realise how much stress you just put my wings through? It's a miracle I'm still airborne, you stupid sword!"
"When is someone going to tell me what's going on?!" Dust blurted out from his position on the floor of the Glade. The nimbat crossed her arms indignantly and pouted.
"Well, that is certainly something I'd like to know as well…" she suddenly cut herself off mid-sentence as she finally seemed to notice Dust. When she saw him, recognition and confusion flashed across eyes of emerald green. "Huh?' she blinked.
"What?" Dust said with a frown. The nimbat glanced at the Blade of Ahrah again, which was still floating to the side.
"Umm…Ahrah, you did say this was Dust, right?" she asked uncertainly.
"That, I did," Ahrah confirmed. Dust's frown deepened and it took all of his self restraint to not swat the nimbat away as she flew closer to get a closer look at him. What did his name mean to her? Why had she said it like she recognised it?
"Wow," she remarked. "Well…you look…significantly younger than I remember," she noted after a pause. Dust let out a squeak of confusion which seemingly went unnoticed. "Have you been following one of those anti-ageing programmes?"
Grr — again with this recognition that made no sense!
"What are you talking about?" Dust snapped, backing away to get himself some space. "What do you mean 'younger than you remember'? That doesn't even make any sense!"
The nimbat looked dejected and her wings and ears dropped in irritation.
"Oh, dear god…" she muttered, barely in earshot. "Don't tell me we've got another case of amnesia on our hands," she grumbled. Dust choked on air again — amnesia?! He had a perfectly retentive memory, thank you very much!
"My memory's just fine!" he snapped. "You're the one flapping around making no sense! And how come you look identical to my nimbat doll?" he added, a hint of sassy-argumentative-teenager sneaking its way into his voice.
"Probably because I'm the real deal and…" the nimbat suddenly froze midair before seemingly having a small fit while somehow staying airborne. "WHAT?!" she squeaked. "YOU MEAN YOU ACTUALLY KEPT THAT THING?!" Okay, first off: 'kept'? Of course he'd kept it — it was a childhood toy! Second…
"That doesn't answer my question, Fidget!" Dust retaliated before he put much thought into what he was saying.
"Of all the things to hang onto, it was that stupid…" the nimbat broke herself off again, this time in surprise. She blinked a couple of times and stared at Dust with a mix of awe and confusion in her eyes. "Wait, did you…? You just said my name," she murmured. Dust started and stiffened. What?
"Huh? I…I did?" he stuttered. Fidget…was that this creature's name? It had come out of his mouth without him even realising it.
"It would appear that your memories have not left you after all, Dust," the Blade of Ahrah spoke up calmly. "They were merely lying dormant, waiting for the right trigger for their return." Dust was growing increasingly confused — his memories had been lying dormant? How was that even possible?
"That still doesn't make any sense!" he protested. "How can I know her name?" he asked, pointing at the nimbat. "I've never met her in my life." The nimbat crossed her arms again.
"Oh, thanks," she drooled sarcastically. "I feel so appreciated."
"I would have to correct you there, Dust," Ahrah contradicted. "While this is the first time that you've met Fidget in this life, you have certainly met before."
"Wh…what?" Dust spluttered. How…?
"Think carefully, Dust," Ahrah urged. "Look around you — what is this place to you?" Dust did so, casting his gaze around the Glade.
"I…this is where Mom found me as a baby," he replied. Ahrah pressed hum, urging him to think about what else it was to him. All that did was make Dust ever more confused. "I…don't understand…"
"I've gotta say, neither do I," Fidget admitted, staring blankly at the sword.
"Very well, I shall explain," Ahrah said simply. "Dust, there is a reason that Fidget recognises you even in your current appearance, and why you subconsciously know both her name and mine." Dust listened, ready for the explanation — he certainly couldn't think of anything and he certainly wasn't expecting the explanation he actually received. "It is because we knew each other fifteen years ago."
"What?!" Dust cried. "That's impossible!" Again with the improbable timelines… "I'm thirteen!" he protested for the second time that afternoon. "How could I…?"
"Hold on!" Fidget interrupted. Dust stopped his protest to listen. "I think I'm catching on here."
"How can you understand any of this?!" Dust demanded. Fidget looked nervous and rubbed her arm whilst her tail twisted around her legs.
"Well, I…" she took a deep breath and started again. "Look, I completely understand if this sounds totally crazy and you don't want to believe me," she sighed. "It's just that I… I…" she kept breaking herself off as if she was trying to recount a story that evoked bad memories for her. Eventually, she was able to get her words out. "Fifteen years ago, I saw you being consumed by lava in the Everdawn Basin."
"WHAT?!" Dust yelled, his voice cracking ever so slightly. How could…? That wasn't possible…
"We all thought we'd lost you," Fidget continued. "But then the Blade of Ahrah rose from the basin following a trail of blue smoke…" She paused and made direct eye contact with Dust. "I think that was you…well, your spirit, at least."
"My…spirit?" Dust repeated, quieter than before and his voice heavy with disbelief. He closed his eyes to think, but as he did so he could still see the Glade…but it was somewhat different. Ahrah still hung suspended in the air in front of him, but his hand reached out unbidden — it was garbed in a long grey sleeve, not the bandages he wore as arm wraps. He opened his eyes again.
"Indeed," the Blade of Ahrah spoke. "Dust, I take it that you have heard the tales of Sen-Mithrarin, the Hero of Falana?" Who hadn't?
"That was my favourite story when I was small," Dust replied. "It's really popular back home. Mom used to tell it to me all the time…" He trailed off, something suddenly clicking in his mind.
Sen-Mithrarin had been a fox-Warmblood.
Sen-Mithrarin had wielded a sword identical to the Blade of Ahrah.
Sen-Mithrarin had travelled with a nimbat companion who was the guardian of the sword.
Sen-Mithrarin meant 'He Who is Born from the Dust'.
"What you're saying is… I'm…him?" Dust exhaled in disbelief. There was only one explanation for what was going on. If Sen-Mithrarin had been a grown man during his adventures, and Dust was now a teenager…he was… "Reborn?" he added.
"That is exactly what I am saying," Ahrah confirmed.
Once again, Dust closed his eyes, bringing himself back to the other Glade. His arm reached out without his bidding and took the Blade of Ahrah in hand. Moments later, a nimbat flew into the clearing — Dust recognised her as Fidget. She seemed out of breath and a foggy voice sounded in his ears, echoing as if in a cave.
Stop…stop right there!
And who's she?
That was his voice, but…older.
Me? I'm Fidget. Guardian of this sword.
It shouldn't be possible, and yet Dust felt that this vision was as real as any of his other memories.
"You know, now that I think about it, being reborn does explain why you look like a kid," Fidget noted. Dust looked at her with a dry glare on his face and his mouth pulled into a sarcastic pout. He was remembering gradually how she behaved…nothing seemed to have changed in that regards. By Elysium, he was already thinking in a way that felt like he was catching up with an old friend!
"That's because I am a kid, Fidget," he grumbled.
"Wow — you're actually one of the only people I can list who's not said that in the negative," Fidget remarked. "Actually, you'd be the first." Dust sighed and tucked his knees under his chin.
"It's not like there's any point in saying I'm not, Fidget," he pointed out. "It's just…this is a lot to take in," he added. Fidget blinked in surprise.
"You mean you believe us?" she asked. "Heck, even I think we sound crazy! I don't blame you if you think we're completely off our heads." Dust shook his head.
"No, I do believe you…both of you," he insisted. Something about the explanation…he hadn't thought it possible or even true before but now…things made sense. It felt right. The conversation between him, Fidget and Ahrah felt right. Like he'd done it many times before. "Somehow…I don't know why but I know that you're telling the truth." Fidget smiled, her tiny fangs showing ever so slightly.
"Well, it's not like we've got a reason to lie to you," she shrugged. Dust smiled despite himself.
"Well, yeah," he admitted. "There's that, but…it's also this place," he added, gesturing to the Glade. "Mom found me here as a baby and she took me here once when I was little…but I remember meeting you two here as well." Fidget lit up like a candle.
"Really?" she gasped. "You remember that?" Dust nodded.
"It just came back to me," he explained. "It's not entirely clear, but I remember us meeting here, and Fidget asking for the sword." The more he spoke, the more Dust found himself remembering. He remembered Fidget's half-baked challenge for the sword before she decided to accompany him until he'd finished using it. He remembered…not remembering anything. That was actually scary. Meanwhile, Fidget had gone silent in thought.
"Say, Ahrah," she said after a moment or two. 'You reckon Dust's memories from last time are starting to come back now that he's summoned you again?" she asked. "Maybe you triggered something," she added as a suggestion.
"That is very likely to be the case, Fidget," the Blade of Ahrah agreed. "You may very well be right." Fidget crossed her arms again, her expression suddenly shifting to its irritated pouting state.
"And speaking of him re-summoning you, why did it get to that point?" she demanded. Dust would have been taken aback by her tone of voice if he didn't agree with what she was saying. A lot of his confusion two minutes ago could have easily been avoided if Ahrah had been around to explain things earlier in his life. "I thought you would have stuck with him!"
"She's got a point, Ahrah," Dust said. "If I'm your fated sword bearer…where've you been for the past thirteen years?" The Blade of Ahrah did not hesitate in giving its answer.
"It would have hardly been appropriate for a newborn life to have a sentient weapon constantly following it around, would it?" it pointed out. Dust opened his mouth to protest but eventually couldn't come up with anything and shrugged — that made sense.
"Still, would have been nice to see him every once in a while," Fidget grumbled. "You know how much I've missed this guy." Dust felt emotionally touched by the remark. He remembered Fidget saying how she was the guardian of the sword, so that would have meant that she needed to keep an eye on it wherever it went, but he still hadn't fully remembered the full scope of his relationship with her.
"Were we really that close?" he asked softly, feeling guilty that he couldn't completely remember. Bits and pieces were coming to mind every few minutes, but it was like he was slowly piecing together a thousand-piece puzzle, with each piece trying to find where it fit with the others.
"Still not remembering everything?" Fidget winced. That made Dust feel worse.
"Things are coming back in pieces," he claimed. "It's…like I'm trying to remember a dream," he explained. "If I try too hard, things start going fuzzy." Fidget nodded in understanding.
"Well, yeah," she said quietly. "We were pretty tight."
"My apologies, Fidget," the Blade of Ahrah spoke. "But I hope you can understand that my distance from Dust was for his own good growing up."
Dust found himself oddly grateful for that. He couldn't say that he'd ever wanted to know his past before Ginger had found him, and the fact that no one had tried to forcefully intervene on his happiness was something that he felt immense gratitude for. And now that very past was beginning to surface — he might not be happy about the circumstances in which it had happened, but reuniting with Fidget and the Blade of Ahrah…
Dust may have only known them for about ten minutes in this life, but he knew and felt like he'd known them a lot longer. To say he was grateful to have them back in his life would be the understatement of the year.
The gang is back together and, oh, my goodness, I love Fidget to pieces. I've loved writing her for this story, so I hope I've done her justice.