The Demon's Blade (30 page)

Darien’s thoughts were shortly interrupted as Galen spoke to him. “You are Darien the Executioner, are you not?” Darien nodded silently. “The faeries have spoken of you, and they say young Jerris owes his life to you. For that, we are eternally grateful.” Still, the shade did not speak. He only nodded again and smiled politely. “You also carry with you blade that cuts through emptiness, the invincible shard of the void, the Demon Sword.” The lorekeeper spoke now with a slight hesitation, colored no doubt by fear of the thing of which he spoke. Darien reached up and removed the blade, sheath and all, from his back. He held it up for the loremaster, who examined it, and nodded uneasily. “So there can be no doubt, it has reappeared. It is as I feared. Be that as it may, this is a time for celebration. Our future king has come to us. Let your hearts be light. Return now to your homes. There will be a great feast tomorrow at mid-day to honor our future king, but for now, our friends need rest, and we must retire.” The crowd rose and applauded once again, and Darien returned the sword to his back. As the applause continued, Galen spoke low and quietly. “There is much to discuss yet, friends, for your ears only. If you would follow me.”

They left the rotunda by a different way than they had come, heading down one of the long hallways that extended into the outer wings of the building. They passed many doors before Galen stopped and opened one on the left. The door opened to a room filled with books stacked on shelves. Light shone in from one of the colored glass windows, yellows, reds, blues, and greens filtered through and cast their pattern of colored light upon the polished white floor. Ceres stood silently beside the door, closing it after the last of the three passed through. Red cushioned benches sat along the far wall, and between the shelves. Galen bade them take a seat, and the two younger guests did so, but the older half-elf remained standing, still uncertain about the situation.

The lorekeeper stood silent for what seemed several minutes, as if choosing his words most carefully. He looked most often to Darien, his eyes betraying something more than fear of the Demon Sword. The lorekeeper gathered himself, then spoke slowly. “I will waste no more time with formalities. I apologize for the enthusiastic greeting. I know you must be tired, and were ill prepared for that display, yet such displays are regrettably necessary, and not entirely unpleasant, though I guess you at least have no love for ceremony.” His eyes landed squarely upon the Executioner, who nodded and smiled politely once again, acknowledging the shrewd observation. The lorekeeper winced slightly, as if suddenly troubled by something painful, then continued. “I would speak with you of the weapon you carry. No doubt you have many questions, but first I would tell you of the origin of that blade. Perhaps some of it you already know, but I suspect there is more yet that you do not.”

“Very well,” the quiet shade finally spoke, in an almost disinterested tone. He was far more interested in the faerie queen, whom he guessed was pulling the strings of all the others. Once again, Galen winced almost painfully at Darien’s reaction, enough this time that the shade thought it odd. Even so, Galen began his story.

“There is much that we do not know, for much of our knowledge has been lost to the eons. Even so, we know that it was our ancestors who awakened the first of the formless ones, whom men named demons.

"We built a great civilization, based upon the invisible power of magic, which we harnessed through the starstones. We built a world without hunger, or want, or fear. We cured diseases, and extended our lives for tens of thousands of years, far beyond our lifespans now. But, for some, even that was not enough. They desired true immortality. They searched for a long time. They delved deeper into magic than any had before. They studied the very fabric that binds the cosmos together, and what lies between the threads, the void that is everywhere and nowhere. In that darkness, they found something, or rather, something found them, ancient beings, older than time, formless, and empty.

“We do not know how many demons there were in the void originally, nor do we know where they originally came from, or if perhaps they were always there, waiting to be discovered. What we know is that those elves who discovered the demons, soon joined them, and recruited others. It is recorded that perhaps half our race succumbed to the lure of immortality. They shed their physical bodies, becoming beings of pure magic. But the process left them mad, disembodied, consumed by a hunger for the pleasures of flesh they could no longer experience. Unfortunately, they learned to sate their desire by possessing the bodies of others, and claiming them for their own. As one vessel died, they abandoned it, and sought another. They created the low creatures you know as orcs, goblins, trolls, and many others like them to serve as vessels. They destroyed our civilization, and everything we had built, all in the pursuit of ever greater power and pleasure.

“What remained of our race went to war with the demons. The war lasted many centuries, but slowly, surely, we were defeated, and the demons ruled this world for a thousand years. We withdrew to our most secret sanctuaries, where our wisest and most powerful sorcerers and craftsmen began working to find a way to oppose the demons. They eventually crafted weapons to fight the demons. In secret the elves created two weapons, swords of incredible power to destroy the demons. The first blade was called the Star Sword. It possessed the power of pure light, to repel the demons’ evil spirits, driving them away as light banishes darkness. Still, the Star Sword alone was not enough to achieve complete victory. While it could counter much of their magic, and repel their formless spirits, it could not truly destroy them. So, a second weapon was made, one which had the ability to destroy demons with their own power. That is the Demon Sword you carry.

“While we were in hiding, the younger races, men and dwarves, appeared. They grew strong and thrived even under the rule of the demons. Because of their relatively short lifespans, the demons did not consider them a threat. This proved to be a grave mistake, for they became numerous and strong. A rebellion formed among the young races. In order to aid them, we gave them the Star Sword, but we did not dare trust them with the Demon Sword. Instead, we secretly trained a champion to wield it. It took many years before the demons took the rebellion seriously, while we waited and watched.

“Finally, when the demons moved to crush the rebellion and take the Star Sword, we sent our champion against them. It should have been our finest hour, but our champion failed. He was overwhelmed by the evil of the blade as soon as he picked it up, and he became a mad creature of death and destruction, killing friend and foe alike. Finally, he was slain, and it seemed that all hope was lost. In that moment, a young human, whose name is not recorded in our records, picked up the sword, and mastered it. He used it to cut down the demons with their own power. After the battle, he returned to his people, and, we assume, lived and died a normal life. There were so few of us, we retreated to what sanctuaries we had left, and withdrew from the world.

“For many centuries, the sword did not reappear, and we assumed it lost, or hidden away. Then, about nine hundred years ago, a sorcerer named Varias began seeking moonstones, for some unknown purpose. At first, we did not consider him a threat, but as he grew more powerful, we realized something was strange about him. He possessed powerful magic, more than any mortal should have been able to possess. By the time we realized the true nature of his power, it was too late to stop him. Somehow, he found a way to tap into the sword’s power without ever touching it, without binding himself to it. He used it to make himself far more powerful than any human wizard could have hoped. He built an army, and then an empire.

“We did the only thing we could, and warned the most prominent group of mages in the human kingdoms, and taught them magics to use against Varias. That group of mages became what is now the Order of the Golden Shield. For many centuries, the two sides were stalemated, each fearing the other’s power enough to prevent all-out war, but when you took the Demon Sword, you changed the nature of that stalemate. If you can master the sword, you will change the balance of power, and Varias knows this. He will become increasingly desperate to kill you, risking more and more, until he is left with no choice but to throw all his power against you wherever you are. You understand, now, why you are so important?”

Darien shut his eyes and rubbed his chin, considering all that had been said. He stood that way a long time as Jerris and Rana watched attentively, waiting for him to speak. “It is a fantastic story, but all of it happened so long ago, who can really say what’s true and what isn’t? Even so, the Demon Sword is real enough.” The Executioner then opened his eyes, looking into those of the lorekeeper, trying to assess the elf, and watch closely his reactions. “As for the Demon Sword, you have told me very little that I didn’t already know. I understand the situation very clearly, as indeed I always have, since I left the Master’s service.” At that point, a look of confusion passed over the lorekeeper’s face that bordered on panic, suggesting strongly that he did not expect that answer. He must not know about Ezra, or he wouldn’t have been surprised that I already know a great deal about the Demon Sword, Darien thought to himself. He is desperately trying to think how I came by that information. “I am not a blind fool. I know what you would ask, and the answer is no. A powerful weapon to use against the Demon King, that is what you seek, and then you will rebuild the elven kingdom upon the broken remains of his empire. I will not use the sword, not for that, nor for any other purpose but the most desperate need.” The Executioner stood silently, watching the others, and waiting for the answer to sink in. The lorekeeper seemed disappointed, almost hurt, while Ceres Arloran glared at him from her post by the door, like a cat poised to strike given the slightest provocation.

“Darien can’t use the sword,” Jerris suddenly broke in forcefully. “If he uses it, it will weaken the spell that protects him. Then he’ll lose control of the sword, and that won’t help anyone. You can’t ask him to do that.”

“A spell to protect him. What do you mean? I know of no such magic.” The lorekeeper seized immediately on the tiny bit of information Jerris had inadvertently revealed. The young half-elf immediately fell silent and hung his head, no doubt realizing he’d said too much.

Darien shrugged, realizing there was no point in concealing the truth now. They might be trying to use him as a weapon against the Demon King, but they were not enemies, and they had as much right to know as any. "Have you ever heard of a man named Ezra, an old wizard, wearing ragged grey robes, like an old beggar or hermit?” The lorekeeper shook his head vigorously no. “I thought as much. Unfortunately, I know very little about him, but what I do know is that I met him only a day after I took the Demon Sword. I was beginning to lose hold of my sanity, and he cast a spell upon me to slow the corruption. He left me with a warning not to use the sword except at greatest need, and to avoid conflict, especially the taking of lives. I have endeavored to do exactly that for the past five years.”

“I… see.” The lorekeeper spoke slowly and uneasily, still obviously confused. “I have never heard the name Ezra, nor am I aware of any magic which would counteract demonic possession in this way. What remains of our lore from the ancient war tells us that resistance to demonic possession comes from the power of an individual’s own mind. I assumed that this was the case with you. I apologize. Had I known this, I would not have asked…”

“You didn’t ask actually. I simply guessed correctly that you would, but that hardly matters. I have only one question to ask you. Indeed, part of the reason I came here is to ask it. You know how the Demon Sword was made, but is there a way to destroy it?”

“It is said that anything that has been made can be unmade, but I know of no spell powerful enough to break the enchantments on that weapon,” Galen replied. “What lore we still have from those times suggests the makers did not believe that the weapon could be destroyed once completed. I am sorry.”

“Well, that is disappointing, but not unexpected.” Darien said. “There is then, but one other matter to discuss. I was told the queen of faeries dwells in this sanctuary. Jerris has a book that he would like to show her.”

“Yes, Queen Lucca has asked that we come to the lake at dusk, but for now, do any of you have any more questions?”

“What happened to that other sword, the Star Sword?” Rana suddenly broke in. “I learned of the Demon Sword when I studied to become a knight of the Golden Shield. Though it is not generally known among the people, all recruits are trusted with this secret. It is to remind us that it is still only a man we face, powerful, but still mortal. I have never heard of this second sword.”

“I cannot say what your order knows and does not know. It has been centuries since we had any formal contact with them.”

“Does my talisman fit in that staff you carry?” Jerris asked.

“It does, and the staff will soon be made whole, but there will be a special ceremony for that, sometime in the next few days perhaps. Was that all?” The three of them all remained quiet, and then the lorekeeper motioned to Ceres. “Ceres, show our two guests here to their rooms, give them refreshments.” The lorekeeper then turned back to Darien, the same look of hurt returning to his face for a moment. “I would speak with Darien alone.”

“Sir. I must protest…,” Ceres broke in.

“You already did, and I will not discuss the matter again. It’s alright. You worry too much,” Galen sharply reprimanded Ceres, who shot Darien a final glare, and then led Rana and Jerris out of the room.