prologue

PROLOGUE – STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND

There at the edge of the shore he stood, upon the very precipice of civilization as the people of this realm knew it. Waves crashed up against the rocks below in perpetuity. Before him, the open sea stretched out into the distance for untold miles. He'd trekked a great number already to arrive there, the coastline his ever present guide to the continent's northwestern most tip. Scant few villages had dotted the way. However unremarkable, they'd each served his purpose for a decent night's stay. And though even now he struggled to recall much about any particular one, he could be sure his visits would remain a talking point among the townspeople for years to come. Whether for food or accommodations, he'd been an exceedingly generous tipper. What monetary compensation he'd received from the council was negligible; it would no longer be of any use to him once he departed this plane of existence shortly. His other reward however, would continue to serve him long after. With it, there was finally a chance he might see home again.

He raised the sword of the fallen king before him, its curved blade gleaming in the midday sun. Still, its lightweight nature took his breath away. 'Zantetsuken', they'd called it: an enchanted weapon capable of rending anything, even the very fabric of time and space itself in twain. Hence, his arrival in this world. A miracle for the king's loyalists who'd seen their lord cut down before their eyes, and the undoing of the treacherous witch who'd inadvertently summoned his avenger. Dealing with her had presented no more difficulty than many a magic wielder he'd faced in his travels. Disposing of her however, was another matter. At the council's behest, they'd made for the coast, rowed her out to sea, and dumped her mutilated, yet still breathing remains overboard. As he continued to stare out into the distance across the waters, he pondered again if such a sentence were a bridge too far. To spend an eternity resigned to the ocean floor, perpetually crushed by the pressure, unable to die, was a fate far more ruthless than the one he'd been condemned to. Only now, after all this time, with so many worlds traveled, had he found the means to bring an end to his own never-ending torment.

He'd only stayed so long in the hope of happening upon another potential prize for his collection. So he'd followed the coastline north, on the off chance he might meet another worthy opponent with a blade to match. He should have known better than to expect such luck twice. It made no difference; with his newest acquisition, he now had four. Just one shy of the perfect number for his purposes. Lacking any desire to explore the rest of the known world for a fifth, he was antsy to finally get on with his journey. He focused his mind, calling upon all the willpower he could muster. With a mighty slash through the air in front of him, it was done.

The portal opened in place before him. Darkness beckoned from beyond, an all too familiar sight now. For untold ages he had wandered the Interdimensional Rift. Whether a prisoner within its cold, lifeless grasp, or upon the soil of another new world, he had always been at the mercy of waiting for another portal to open up on its own. With Zantetsuken now in his possession, he would be free to hop between dimensions at will. At last, the end of his journey had come into view. No matter how many more worlds he would still have to visit before finding his home, he could feel it was closer than ever before. He stepped forward, bursting with determination, and closed his eyes as the portal enveloped him.

Soon…

Relief gave way to confusion as he opened them again. Directing his attention every which way, it became apparent something had gone awry in the dimensional transition. On one hand, the ocean before him had disappeared; an arid wasteland peppered by the occasional tree or patch of shrubbery now trailed into the distance. And therein lay the issue: this was clearly not the Interdimensional Rift, a bleak void barren of virtually any other life. That there was still even a sun hanging in the sky just over the horizon was proof enough. He'd somehow gone straight from one reality to another, without setting foot for an instant in the realm between. In all his travels, never had such a thing happened before.

Well, at least it works. That's the only thing that truly matters…

He raised the sword again and made another incision. Like clockwork, a second portal opened. Unfazed, he stepped through once more, curious as to how many tries it would take to find the right world. Who could say where and when it might even take him once he arrived? Would he even recognize his home when he'd found it? These questions immediately fizzled out as he emerged again. His eyes bulged. His mouth fell open in shock. The portal had taken him nowhere. There he still stood upon the very same landscape the first one had deposited him into.

What's going on?!

Panicking, he quickly opened another portal. And then another. After the fifth attempt without any discernible change, his heart sunk. Or rather, it would have, could he feel his heart at all; despite the anxiety firing through him, as he brought his hand up to his chest, he realized he had no pulse. Seconds passed in tense anticipation. Then, nearly half a minute. Through it all, there came not a single detectable flicker of a heartbeat. By all accounts, he should have been dead. Perhaps he even was.

Just what kind of world is this?

After taking another few moments to compose himself, he took a step forward. He was clearly still in control of his own anatomy, regardless of its questionable functionality. And though he felt no worse for wear, even after so many swings, he knew better than to keep trying in vain; the price paid for the sword's power, however gradual, was not lost on him. And so, he decided to press onward. There was no other choice; if the blade refused to take him elsewhere, he would need to find passage back to the Rift by other means. He had done so countless times before. He could easily do so again. Having come to terms with the situation, he returned Zantetsuken to the inside of his cloak, and started off into the unknown.

For nearly an hour he trudged onward. It didn't take long for him to realize just how unnaturally jumbled his surroundings were, however. Seemingly random patches of forest and greenery existed side by side with barren scorched earth and gaping waterlogged divots. Many of the trees stood bent and contorted in awkward shapes, often with different colored leaves between them. He even swore one or two were covered in snow. None of it made one iota of sense to him. In all the time he'd spent in and out of different dimensions, no matter the world he'd landed in each time nor its inhabitants, none of them had ever looked this distinctly wrong.

For that matter, what sort of creatures would he find roaming this world? What manner of sentient life could even exist amid such a twisted, scattershot ecosystem? His curiosity came to a head as he finally caught sight of a small settlement. Whether occupied or long abandoned, he couldn't tell; the closer he drew, the more it became clear its construction was every bit as disorganized as the surrounding nature. Huge chunks of the white stone facade were missing altogether. The lighthouse poking up in the back looked to be in no better condition, its purpose even more mystifying; however hard he squinted into the distance, he could see no shoreline beyond. The only trace of normalcy about the region was the sprawling flower garden extending out from the grounds. And at its edge, a lone figure dressed in black.

A boy, or so he seemed. At a glance, there didn't seem to be anything unusual about him. He had no missing limbs, nor additional ones, nor any obvious deformities whatsoever. Finally, a living, breathing exemplar of symmetry in a world which seemed to balk at the very concept. It was as if this boy had been plucked from a different realm entirely, much like himself. A kindred spirit, perhaps? His intrigue only continued to mount as he noticed the sheathed weapon hanging from his left side. He chuckled to himself as he maneuvered his hand beneath his cloak to one of his other swords. With any luck, this unexpected diversion wouldn't be without its own reward.

What will it be for number five?

The boy continued staring out across the field, oblivious to his approach. He'd been handed a perfect opportunity for a surprise attack. And yet, he wouldn't dare take it. He would face him honorably, formally, one swordsman to another. For however much his journey had changed him, that was the one thing he could always count on to remain the same. He reached the boy's side, and opened his mouth to introduce himself.

"Hello there."