Part 16: True Sword
The True Sword had been forged in the temple of
Treneaxis five universes ago. The faithful there pleaded to the Goddess
to allow them a weapon with strength enough to destroy Stinnett.
Their prayer was answered. The Goddess imbued the True Sword with
part of her own essense. It is filled with her power, and is proof
against any evil.
The faithful at Treneaxis were killed attempting
to protect themselves against Stinnett's army. A few members escaped,
with the sword, and went into hiding.
That universe fell to the cataclysm, but the
True Sword carried over into the next. The followers of the Goddess
would seek it to bring an end to Stinnett, but would always be too late
in their efforts, and the cataclysm would claim them.
For the first time since its forging, someone
was within reach of the True Sword.
Eve shuddered, holding her eyes closed as she leaned
against the rock.
Why had she done this? Why? She kept
asking herself over and over. Some cleric she turned out to be...
betraying Michael like that. But she didn't want to die! And
they had threatened to kill him if she didn't cooperate. Of course,
she hadn't known that they needed him alive, but it was still wrong to
do what she had done.
And now, almost as though in punishment, she was
lost under the mountain. She, like Michael, had been knocked out
and brought here. She had no idea how to get to the surface, and
only the vaguest idea of which way it was. So far, she had tried
to follow only paths going up, her logic being that she would eventually
reach the surface, where hopefully she could find her way back to Eltai.
Except she had passed by the same way twice, then three times. She
was trapped in a maze, there was no doubt about that. And her only
plan had proved a failure.
So she sat, closing the stone that had served as
her only source of light within both of her hands. She had found
the stone in a room full of them, somewhere below where she now was.
That room had been spectacular, and after stumbling around in the dark
and near-dark for untold lengths of time, it had nearly blinded her.
Unhappy with the prospect of going on without a light source and, at the
time, still having some hope of seeing the surface, she took one of the
stones and continued.
And here she was. Sitting on the cold stone
and trying not to be reduced to tears. She had turned her back on
everything she had believed in, just to save her own neck. She was
getting what she deserved.
There was a rustling sound travelling from one of
the tunnels leading to this room. Eve stood up, suddenly on alert.
Had they tracked her down? Was it Michael, come to punish her for
her betrayal? Or something worse? Not spending any more time
on thought than that, she sprinted down one of the unexplored tunnels.
The noises intensify, now coming from behind her, as though in pursuit.
She tried to force herslf to run faster. Holding her only source
of light in both hands, she hunched down to avoid the lowering ceiling.
The noises, which, to her terror, she couldn't identify as anything human,
grew louder and more intent.
Suddenly, the cavern widened, and she spilled onto
the ground in front of what seemed to be an enormous underground fortress.
She stumbled to her feet in panic, realizing that she had happened upon
the same place she had originally left when she had escaped Donovan.
Then, with a sudden second realization, she found she no longer heard the
pursuing noises. She was alone once more.
She looked around the city, searching for any clue
to Michael's fate. But she found nothing. Not even footprints.
The place looked as though it hadn't been disturbed for a very, very long
time. Eve began to question whether this was the same site.
Finally, mustering some courage, she entered the enormous fortress.
Pale light filtered down from an unseen source shrouded in fog from above.
This city was almost perfectly preserved, unlike the decrepid ruin that
she had been forced to bring Michael to. No, she was not there, she
was somewhere different. In a city that seemed the antithesis to
the one she had escaped.
It was no less empty, however. The only sounds
were her breathing and footfalls upon the stone. The city was dead,
there was no doubt about that. An abandoned barracks loomed to her
right, and numerous uninhabited watchtowers lined the wall. Houses,
the wood that they had been construced of having long been petrified, had
been sequestered in a small corner of the fortress, almost as though in
afterthought. There was one structure, however, that stood out from
all the others. A temple, with watchtowers, ramparts, and bulwarks
surrounding it, stood in the exact center of the rest of the fortification.
It seemed as though it had been as heavily guarded, or perhaps more so,
than the city itself. Just approaching the defenses made Eve nervous.
But it was obvious this was the most important building there, and so it
was there she had to go. She wasn't sure why, it was just this feeling
she seemed to have. And exploring the city was a much more enjoyable
alternative to being chased through dark tunnels at any rate.
After exerting no small amount of force on the doors
of the temple, which had not been opened in millenia, Eve managed to throw
one open. On the inside, she saw yet more evidence of fortification
- arrow slits in the walls, long iron bars with which to hold the doors
shut in the event of a siege, among other things. It made her nervous
to be here. The inside looked much as Father Dabiri's temple had
looked, with the exception that here, everything was immaculately clean.
There was no dust lying on the floor, as there had been outside.
Stone pews lined the wide walkway, which lead up an incline to a pulpit.
Behind the pulpit was another door, above which was an enormous engraving
of a sword. Someone had chiseled, from the very rock itself, a relief
of a sword, decorated with complicated and infathomable patterns.
Shaking off her wonder and nervousness at the place,
Eve walked forward to the door, and found in unlocked and still working.
In fact, it nearly opened itself to her touch. Her nervousness returned,
much worse than before. Something was within the room. Eve
walked cautiously into the chamber that the door had lead to. The
room itself was perfectly circular, the walls smooth and almost reflective.
There was no ceiling, and the light seemed to come from directly above,
piercing through the fog to illuminate the object that was the focus of
the room:
The True Sword.
It lie on a stone slab, raised to a height that
put it just below eye level for Eve. Its blade reflected the light
from above perfectly, making it difficult to look directly at. The
hilt was crafted out of some material that Eve couldn't identify, inset
with countless minute runes and jewels, the patterns mirroring those on
the engraving outside. She recognized the sword instantly, for Dabiri
had taught her and all the clerics what it was and what purpose it served.
It was the sword made to destroy Stinnett.
Hope flashed through her. With this, she could
redeem herself in the eyes of Michael, her goddess, and herself.
She understood immediately - she was being given a second chance.
With a short prayer of thanks to the goddess, Eve stepped forward and grasped
the hilt of the sword.
Images flashed into her mind in sickening rapidity:
She saw her world, her universe, and the universes before - all being ravaged
by the cataclysm, torn apart by Stinnett's evil whim. She saw Michael
as he saw himself, a pathetic knight who happened to stumble upon the right
people to aid him. She saw herself: A recluse hiding within
the comfort of her temple for nearly her entire life, betraying Michael
to save herself, and by betraying him, betraying her entire universe to
Stinnett. Facts and images streamed through her mind - trillions
of lives wiped out at once - the screams of the dying as the fury pulled
them apart - space being torn apart - her mind became one with those whose
lives had passed, people who had strived to save themselves, only to be
cast into nothing. She became Michael - she became Father Dabiri
- she became Larrana Claire -and for a horrifying moment that would never
leave her for as long as she lived, she became Stinnett himself.
With a cry of despair, she cast the sword away from
her. It clattered loudly on the floor, echoing in the silence.
Then there was no sound.
A small moan escaped Eve. No more than a few
moments had passed. She looked down at her body, making sure she
was still there, still real, still herself. She was.
Reality had returned. She turned her gaze to the sword, which lied,
unassuming, on the stone floor where she had thrown it. Her mind
had just brushed against something much greater - something ancient, and
powerful. Universally good, but in a way she could not understand.
Within that sword was something she could not fathom, could not even guess
at. But she knew what it was nonetheless.
The Goddess.
Father Dabiri had told her of this sword, it was
true. He had said that the goddess had made it, much as she had made
Michael's sword. This sword had been the original from which Michael's
had been copied. And it was so much more than Dabiri had lead her
to believe. Father Dabiri had told her that part of the goddess was
within the sword. But after touching it, she knew the truth.
The Goddess herself was within the sword.
Not Dabiri's goddess, but the Goddess that had come before - the one that
had patiently recreated each universe, waiting until this moment had come,
the moment where Her greatest weapon would be discovered. And it
had fallen upon Eve to wield it.
Eve was shaking and covered with perspiration, even
though it was slightly cold within the caverns. She regarded the
sword warily. If she did not take it up, she would not be punished
by the Goddess, that she knew. The Goddess had waited aeons beyond
aeons for this moment, but had infinite patience. Eve could deny
this chance, and no harm would come to her from the Goddess. Stinnett,
however, would wipe out her universe.
But if she took the sword, she would lose herself
within it. She would no longer be Eve... she would, instead, be some
creature of the Goddess... and Eve would be gone.
She was trembling as she stepped over to the sword.
Tears streamed from her eyes as she bent down. Her hand reached down
to grasp the hilt of the sword.
"Goodbye..." she whispered.
Stinnett smiles at Michael as he walks toward the
Great Old One. "That's far enough." Stinnett admonishes.
With merely a thought, Stinnett flings the knight aside. Ah, how
easy it is now, he reflects.
"I want to thank you," he says, still smiling
his wicked grin at Michael. "for dispatching that monstrosity for
me." Stinnett indicates the fallen scorpion-beast. "He invited me
here, you know! But he planned to kill me, because he saw me as competition.
He really was no match for me, but I appreciate you saving me the trouble."
Stinnett kicks the bloated carcass as he walked to the sanctuary.
Through the corner of his eye, Stinnett sees Michael stumble to his feet
and make a mad dash toward his sword, still lodged in the spine of the
monster. With a wave of Stinnett's hand, Michael is paralyzed.
"Now, that wasn't very nice of you! I'm going
to do you a favor, and this is the thanks I get?" Stinnett shakes
his head reprovingly. "You see, I'm going to let you live.
You've done your part by slaughtering this thing. And all I'm really
interested in is the jewels. So you can go... as soon as I'm far
enough away that I don't need to fear your movement, that is." With
a chuckle, Stinnett ascends the steps into the sanctuary.
Michael looked on helplessly as Stinnett disappeared
into the sanctuary. Where had he gone wrong?! he demanded of
himself. He had fought valiantly against the enemy at Ethentac.
He had lead Dabiri's people to safety. He had quested for the jewels
and defeated their guardian. He had done everything right, and yet
he had lost! The injustice burned within him. Desparately,
he tried to move his muscles, but it was to no avail. He was sprawled
on the ground, and it was as though his body was no longer attatched to
his mind. He tried to move, but even the slightest movement refused
to occurr.
The way he was sprawled, he could see the bloated
corpse of the one-great Old One, and the sword lodged within. If
only he could get the sword! Only then did he stand a chance against
Stinnett. He tried to make himself move again, and did not succeed.
The sword was so close! So close! If only he could reach out
to it...
Something suddenly made a connection in his mind.
All he needed to do, he realized, was reach out to it... it was still a
powerful sword, and it had been given to him! Even at a distance,
it could aid him. When he had passed by the room with the sword within,
on his way to this fateful moment, he had seen a flicker of the sword -
not because the spell concealing it was flawed, but because the sword had
been attempting to be seen! With this realization, Michael willed
the sword to aid him. He strained against the invisible chains that
bound him as he reached out to the sword... he needed it now more than
ever.
Michael's sword glowed slightly.
Stinnett looks down at the three jewels, which he
had coveted since the moment he had been shown them. They are his
now. He can feel their power, radiating out toward him, offering
themselves to him. And now they are his. Looking down upon
them, Stinnett is struck by a sudden memory. This is rare, as Stinnett
usually does not remember many things that have happened, especially not
as far in his past as this...
But Stinnett had once been a simple minor demon,
weaker than the Great Old One who was dead outside, weaker even than the
minor demons who now payed him homage. The difference had been these
very jewels that present themselves to him now. Stinnett remembers:
He had, in his bumbling blindness, accidentally discovered one of the three
(they were almost always separated, to find them together as he had now
was extremely rare). And he had unlocked its secret.
Stinnett remembers his own becoming... the power
pouring out of the stone and into him. Just one had made him into
the entity he was today, and that was only with a fraction of the stone's
power. Now he possesses all three. A smile of malevolent pleasure
surfaces as he gathers them into his hand and exits the sanctuary.
A sudden burning sensation tears through his abdomen
as he comes face to face with Michael Morhaime. His sword had lodged
itself firmly within Stinnett. Stinnett opens his mouth to speak,
but the magic of the sword is leaking into him, unraveling this body of
dust, torturously slow in undoing him. In pain, he opens the fist
containing the stones. They clatter to the floor quietly. Stinnett
has only a moment to realize his mistake before the sword's magic tears
his body apart.
He is spirit once more.
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