Chapter 8 - The Sword of Drakmord

Damien and Issin walked down the dark hallway, their footsteps echoing loudly. "So tell me again, Damien. Why did we leave the troops up above?"

Damien stopped and looked at Issin. "You're saying that we can't handle this on our own? It'll be good practice."

"Yeah, I suppose." The two walked on through the hallway, the only sound being their footfalls once more.

About five minutes later, Damien broke the silence. "Issin, why do you think we can do the things that we can."

"Oh God, not this discussion again. Why do you always bring it back up?"

"Because we've never had any closure on the subject. Just listen, ok?"

"Fine. I'll listen all you want. But this is the last time!"

"Ok, you know how during the Last War, the ancient people used powerful weapons, right? Well, some of those weapons they were afraid to use because they would leave a taint on the ground. What if they actually did use those weapons, and that taint affected certain people, and their descendants?"

"You're talking about the mutation theory, right?"

"Yes. What if the use of ki, or chi, or shamanism, or anything that has been classified as magic were just an after-effect of the Last War? If that's true, then we are inborn with these powers, and they can never be improved."

"Come on now, Damien. Its something that has to be achieved, through training. Besides, I've felt my powers strength increase every time I use them in battle. Its training that develops your abilities, not natural selection."

Damien stopped walking and looked sadly at Issin. "Then why have my powers never improved, or increased in strength?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're holding yourself back. Anyway, continue with the discussion."

"Oh, yes. The other idea I've read about is about how, over the course of generations, a group of creatures can improve themselves based on their surroundings."

"And you think this has something to do with our powers?" Issin asked.

"No, I just thought it was interesting. Hey, look we're coming to the end. I mean, think about it, given a thousand years, and the right environment, cattle could be taught to fly. Or, perhaps birds could swim! Or maybe even...."

"Hey, Damien. Could the mutation theory create ten foot-long rats?"

"I suppose so. What in the world made you come up with that example?"

"Probably the fact that there's one right behind us. Ready? On my mark." Damien reached for his kama, while Issin quickly formed his blade. "Go!"

The two fighters flanked the beast, one to each side and pierced the sides of its head with their weapons. The creature screeched in pain and fell over, dead. "Well, that was easy enough," Issin said with a smug grin.

"Yes, but keep alert. There may be more of them. Let's move on." Damien and Issin continued down the hallway until it opened into a wide room, with several doors. "Over there. That door has the markings we were told." The two approached the door.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Damien? Melt through the door!"

"I will. Just promise me that we'll leave as soon as we have what we came for, alright?"

"Alright, we'll just grab anything that looks interesting and sort it out later."

Damien channeled his energy into his kama and it quickly set aflame. He struck the door with the now superheated weapon and carved a circular door through the metal. After waiting a few moments for the door to cool, the pair entered. There upon a steel table in the center of the room rested a sword. "You search the room," Damien said, "I'll get the sword." The two split up to perform their seperate tasks.

Attaching the sword's sheath to his belt, Damien said, "Alright, let's go." Damien and Issin proceeded back through the long corridor they had entered in. "So, what did you find in your scavenging, Issin?"

"I found this," Issin said, handing Damien the small item. "It looks a little like goggles"

"Hmm, notice how the glass is black? I think they're meant to prevent glare from the sun. You may want to hang on to these. Here, try them on."

Issin took the glasses and put them on. "Hey, these would work to cut the glare. How do I look in them?"

"I think you look better, now that there's less of you're face that I have to look at," Damien said, smirking.

Issin was fairly amazed that Damien had actually made a joke. "Why you...! Hey, there's the entrance!" The two generals were bathed in sunlight as they exited the corridor. "Um... Damien, I think we have a problem."

"You're right. Where are the troops?!"

"Well, if I had to guess, I'd say that they're in that." Issin pointed to his immediate left, where another giant rat lay sleeping. The surrounding grass was covered in blood and littered with the weaponry of Damien and Issin's troop. There were several cuts and gashes across the rat's hide. "Wow. It's even bigger than the last one. What do you think we should do, Damien?"

"Knowing you, we'll end up fighting it. At least we know why the door was sealed so well. Well, let's try and kill it without waking it up."

"That's no fun! I'll just see how it likes this." Issin extended his hand towards the rat.

"No Issin!!" Small shards of ice formed above the giant rat and dropped, imbedding themselves into the rat's hide. The creature howled in pain and shook out the icicles. "Why do I even bother with you?" Damien said, drawing forth his kama.

"I don't know. Maybe its my loveable charm." Issin formed his blade and jumped at the rat's side. He thrust the tip of the blade through the rat's flesh. The beast swung its claw, smashing it into Issin's gut and sending him flying back. Damien jumped and attacked the rat's face, attempting to take out an eye. The monster reared back suddenly and bit at Damien. He instinctively raised his weapon to block. The kama was crushed by the giant creature's teeth.

Now weaponless, Damien looked to Issin for help, but it was to no avail. Issin sat on his knees where he had landed, holding his stomach and suffering a coughing fit. His coughing soon ended, replaced by vomiting. Damien backed away from the rat, and dodged a few bites. Suddenly, he remembered the sword at his side. "This thing had better be good enough quality to withstand some flame." Damien drew and ignited the Sword of Drakmord. Dodging a claw attack, he ran under the rat, sword pointed up. Aided by the flame, the blade easily sliced through the rat's skin, spilling the beast's organs on the ground. Damien wiped and sheathed the blade, then turned to help Issin.

Issin spoke to Damien through his coughing. "Damn. I... I don't think I like the smell of burning rat hair." Struggling, he got to his feet.

"Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Let's just get back to the palace." Issin limped a few steps, then stopped and formed a walking stick from ice and walked on.

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"Ahh, welcome back, my generals! Do you have what I seek?" Emperor Selphrin looked expectantly at the two returning warriors.

"Yes, my liege, we have," Damien said, " but our men suffered heavy casualties."

"I see. How many were lost during the trip?" said Damien, taking the sword from Damien.

Issin smiled. "All survivors of the trip now stand in front of you, my lord."

"What?! You lost forty troops on such a simple mission?! I expect your full report will explain why, but that will have to wait." Selphrin sighed and shook his head. "Guard! Deliver this sword to Cloak, immediately!" Selphrin handed the Sword of Drakmord over to the guard, then addressed Issin. "Because of your injuries I will be forced to move the invasion of Omerta back by one week. I have also decided that I will allow you the use of some of our meager firearm supply. It that acceptable?"

"Yes, my liege."

"Good. Make sure you are in perfect health and well prepared."