The Thief of the Rose
Introduction:
introduction part-2
Over the next several days Dao tried and failed to come up with the proper word and was almost ready to set it aside when it finally came to him. The children’s strength was greatest when they were together. Individually they had power, but together acting in unison their power almost rivaled his own. What if he combined their names and used the resulting word? Yes, that would work fine, now which combination? He reflected on how they interacted together, how they worked in combination. Yes, there was the combination: Mel-Dri-Ran. Now, what would the rune look like?
He pondered the question of Meldriran’s rune for several weeks before the answer came to him. He was sitting in a chair watching Melvina tend her expanding garden of different rose varieties. She was holding a long stem red rose and examining its qualities when the shape popped into his head. He remembered back to the conversation when she first discovered that bush of red roses and his comment about them being the symbol of Eldritch. He told Melvina where he was going and hurried to his forge and writing desk, with her scrambling to keep up. Removing the parchment, quill, and inkwell, he began.
“Meldriran!, Dao drew the final rune, three concentric hexagons at the top of a vertical line with a small ‘v’ at the bottom.
“Are the last two runes going to be used in oaths and such?” Melvina asked.
“Oh, no no. They are special and will be singularly used for making and control. Their power will be so great that if they were known then all I have done and will do could be undone at some later date. No, these two words will be reserved for only a select few.”
“Will I be allowed to use them?”
“Perhaps, only time will tell.”
Now, with the last of the words of power finished he was ready to start his work and he knew the order in which he would create them. Informing Melvina that he planned to start the next day they finished the preliminary work and spent the rest of the day practicing manipulating Eldritch.
The forging of the first sword took Dao nearly three long years to complete. Since it was his first he took a more cautious route to its completion. The actual sword work only took several months, it was the enchanting that took the bulk of the time. Well, the enchanting and determining how best to insert a sentient life force within the sword.
Melvina stayed at his side during the entire forging, while the boys explored their surroundings. Not that there was not time for instruction or formal education, for Dao had set time aside everyday to teach the children languages, mathematics, the sciences, and other more natural courses. Dao also spent time everyday instructing the children in the ways of the various types of magic and most importantly the lore of Eldritch, as well as the lore of runes. There was even time to teach the Way of the Sword, with every day spent honing their sword forms. By the time of the first sword’s completion the children had achieved Adept levels of mastery in the known manifestations of Eldritch.
Dao’s first sword was a simple unadorned bastard sword, with downward curved quillions, hand-and-a-half grip, and a wheel, (or ball) pommel. The blade was forged from silver star of archanite and had a double edge. The hilt was unadorned, no gem shone in the wheel pommel. It was, in all appearances, a simple bastard sword, of no great value.
Infused in the bastard sword was all the power at Dao’s disposal, a considerable amount. He even went so far as to imbue it with a portion of the spirit of Death. No mean feat since Death was not enthused about giving up part of itself, but Dao, as usual, prevailed. All that was required was a sentient force and his first sword would be complete. The being needed to be single-minded, unwavering, loyal to a fault, and most importantly, powerful. Its voice should instill fear, or awe, as needed. Actually, all of the swords would need an equivalent life-force. Now, where to find a worthy and most importantly, a willing entity? Where to find a being willing to give up their corporeal form, give up mortality for immortality?
He reflected on the traits he required for his sword’s sentience for several days before a worthy solution presented itself. He asked Melvina to accompany him and he transported them to the large landmass north of the archipelagoes. More specifically, to the top of a small rise just east of a lush valley with a large village on the banks of a meandering river. They walked down the hill toward the entrance of the village.
“Be wary, Melvina and watch yourself,” Dao cautioned her. “Mind your lessons and follow my lead.”
Melvina looked at him and smiled as they stopped at the entrance and waited for their escorts. Presently two Guthard warriors approached and after a short discussion led Dao and Melvina into the village and toward a large wooden building used as a meeting lodge. The two visitors waited outside while one of their escorts entered the lodge.
The clan chieftain came out and welcomed them to the village and bid them enter the lodge. Dao and Melvina entered the lodge and sat in the offered spots. After introductory rites and homage to the chieftain Dao explained what he required.
He presented it as a great honor for any warrior that volunteered. The warrior would live forever achieving even greater honor in the service of another. Dao explained that the warrior would have to give up his mortal shell and be bound within a great weapon of power. The chieftain was intrigued and would pass on Dao’s request to all the clans, for which Dao thanked him. Dao gave him directions to the island and the number of warriors he would need. The chieftain offered the hospitality of the clan, which Dao and Melvina accepted.
Dao and Melvina spent several days in the company of the Guthards as the word went out and candidates arrived vying for the opportunity of a lifetime; to live eternally and have an impact on events in the future. Dao had not intended to, but the opportunity presented itself so they stayed and evaluated the warriors that arrived in the village. It was determined that since Dao only required one candidate during this visit that a competition of sorts would be used to determined the best candidate for his first sword. A series of events were devised to test the volunteer’s strength, stamina and mental toughness. The winner would have the great honor of exchanging their corporeal form for one of metal.
The events were planned over several days and slowly whittled the field of contestants down until at the end only one warrior was left standing. Dao was surprised because the winner was not the one he had expected to win, which only went to show that looks were deceiving. He thanked all of the contestants and the clan chieftains who had arrived with their warriors and especially the local chieftain who had housed everyone. It was determined that similar games would be held every three years since that was the length of time Dao thought he would need. An unintended result of the competition was the bonds formed by the various tribes. Another result was that the tribes decided to unite under the leadership of the chieftain of the winning contestant and would change after every competition. More importantly, with the tribes united, the Guthard began to advance in their proficiency with Eldritch. Those advancements would include the design and construction of transportation platforms throughout their lands. Now the various tribal areas could not only communicate with each other but also travel from site to site in a blink of an eye. The Guthards built great edifices to their one God and sacrificed a portion of their bounty every year at high summer.
In reflection Dao would marvel that with the advent of the competition the Guthards had advanced to a unified civilization with a religion.
The following morning Dao was ready to bring his first sword to life so he gathered Melvina and the Guthard warrior and brought them up to his forge. Dao actually felt a small amount of trepidation since what he planned to accomplished had not been done before. He understood the mechanics of what he intended but he was not sure if it would actually work. Taking the bastard sword from its resting place he set it on one half of the specially constructed altar and had the warrior lay down on the other side. Dao had Melvina begin scribing runes in the air, and chant the words of power as he tapped into the flow of Eldritch and began creating tendrils of power between the warrior and the sword. Pulsing threads of silver began attaching themselves from the sword to the warrior and from the warrior to the sword, until it seemed as if a bright pulsing ribbon of silver attached the two. The two entities, sword and warrior, began to glow with a silvery light as they became more ethereal, more transparent, except their outline, which glowed and pulsed in silvery light. Melvina paused in her chanting to watch as the two halves, sword and warrior began to draw together until they overlapped each other. The corporeal body of the warrior began to fade away as the sword’s image began to sharpen until all that was left on the altar was the bastard sword.
Dao concentrated his power into the fingertip of his index finger and carved only one rune into the blade, on both sides. He inscribed only the rune of making, since this sword would be above all others. The blade glowed brighter and brighter as Dao spoke words of power and lore into the sword in a language unknown to Melvina. He spoke the sword’s reason for being and the purpose that Dao had for it, a purpose that he had not revealed to Melvina or her brothers.
This first sword would be above the natural laws of the universe; space and time would not have rulership over it. It would be bound by only one law, a law that it would be charged to uphold: ‘Death comes for us all in the end’. Dao picked the sword up off the altar he raised it high over his head.
“Awaken!” he commanded as the sword burst into a silver flame and its rune glowed silver as well.
“BEHOLD, I AM DEATHBRINGER, THE HAND OF DEATH!” the sword’s voice, low and raspy, reverberated off the walls of the cavern. “I WILL BE THE INSTRUMENT MY CREATOR REQUIRES! I AM THE SWORD OF DOOM!”
“Excellent!” Dao remarked. “Melvina, we did it!”
Now that the sword was complete Dao began work on the sword’s stone. The stone would be the resting place for the sword when not wielded. Since the swords would be sentient he needed to make sure that they would not act on their own behalf, the stone would see to that. When a sword was in its stone it could not leave on its own. Also, a sword would have no concept of time while there. It would be in a suspended state until removed by a potential wielder. If either the sword or the wielder rejected the other, the sword would have to return to the stone.
The stone was wrought from a block of obsidian, found in the mountains to the north. Carved with the same runes that were found on the blade, the stone would have the ability to negate the power of the sword while it rested within.
Dao would have to make concessions where DeathBringer was concerned, though. His thoughts concerning the relationship between stone and sword ran counter to DeathBringer’s primary function. DeathBringer would have to be able to operate independently of the stone. So, he would need to allow for differences in requirements between DeathBringer and the other swords he intended to create.
After the length of time it took to create DeathBringer, the stone was relatively easy and within a fortnight it was complete. Now all that was left was to attune the two. Taking the bastard sword by the pommel, Dao slowly inserted it into the stone. Sparks flew from the point of joining, accompanied by a grating noise, as the sword’s blade disappeared into the stone. It was done. His first Runesword was complete!
Now that DeathBringer was complete it was time to start on the rest of his swords. He proposed to forge two swords of neutrality, followed by three each of good and evil. There would be a hierarchy of sorts and he determined to create them in order of precedence. But before he could start he needed to sit down and devise the laws to which the swords would adhere. He already had the first law, the only one by which DeathBringer would be bound to. He thought about the purposes of the different swords he intended to create and that gave him the insight to create the Sword Laws.
Dao moved back over to his desk and unrolled another piece of parchment, anchoring the edges with tiny weights. Melvina, his constant companion in his endeavors, took up her usual position on a stool to his right. Dipping his quill in ink, Dao began writing down the laws that would define his swords.
The scribing of the laws was as significant as the scribing of the runes earlier. The procedure used was the same and the result was the same. Just like the runes previously, the laws were written into the very essence of the Mythos. The laws would stand as long as the Mythos stood, the same as the runes. Violating the laws brought on the ultimate penalty: Death. Death by the blade of DeathBringer.
As it was when he drew the runes, when his quill traced the lines on the parchment, the same silvery viscous light appeared and flowed into the lettering. As it was with the runes, when each law was complete it would flash with a brilliant silver light and rise off the parchment and into the air. The words held their shape for a moment and then dissipated in a silvery glow, finally fading into nothingness. The mountain rumbled and the ground trembled with each law’s creation.
“Death is the ultimate arbiter and cannot be cheated,” he scribed the words in an ancient language, but spoke them for Melvina’s benefit. “Death comes for us all, in the end.”
“Time is a precious thing and should not be squandered,” he wrote the second law. “It has but one master and none other may affect it.”
“Crystal when highly focused reveals all, nothing can hide from its gaze,” Dao wrote out the third law. “It can even see into the heart of a god.”
“The Finger of God is as mighty as the Fist of Satan, but together, in the hands of the righteous, they will be a force to be reckoned with.”
“Truth is the truth, it requires no other understanding.”
“In the dead of night when terror is at its greatest there you will find the dark rune,” Dao wrote the sixth law. “All that dwell there are its minions.”
“Justice is swift and its retribution final,” Dao wrote down the seventh law. “The scales of justice will always try to find balance; always.”
“Destruction is the way of the world,” Dao wrote out the final law. “It revels in its power over the weak.”
With the completion of the laws the real work began. The forging would be the easy part; it was the enchanting that would be the more difficult. Dao intended for each sword to bear an essence of that which it was. For DeathBringer it was a portion of the soul of Death. For the rest it would be what the sword was. A tricky thing to be sure, for Dao would have to try and obtain these essences and some were mere concepts. But in the end he was satisfied with the ‘Swords of Law’, as he called them.
Over the next thirty years Dao completed the rest of his swords. Each sword was finished before starting the next. In all, including DeathBringer, there were nine swords bound by eight laws. There were other lesser but equally significant rules or sub-laws that the swords would uphold.
Probably the most important sub-law was that a sword could not lie to its wielder. There were, however, things they were forbidden to reveal. They could not reveal their powers unless specifically asked about them. They could not reveal the manner in which they were created or where. They could not reveal the individual laws unless their wielder was in jeopardy of breaking one. There were certain entities about which they might not speak, either, not the least of which were the Guthards. They could and should instruct their wielders on the lesser, yet equally important, sub-laws that they must abide by.
Secondarily, they could not cause their wielder to lose his (or her) life through action or inaction, nor cause their wielder harm. Harm was a relative thing and each sword would need to determine that differently, based in some part on their wielder and his or her abilities. A wielder would always have free will to place himself or herself in danger even after being cautioned by its sword. In that case let the chips fall where they may.
Thirdly, a sword might not reveal the location of another sword unless it is diametrically opposed to the other sword. There were few instances of that, however. Diametrically opposed swords would always try to instigate confrontation, to the exclusion of all else. In that case it was up to the wielder to maintain control, or not, as they saw fit.
Fourthly, swords could not act on their own, except in extreme moments of danger to their wielder, and then only to the extent necessary to extract themselves from the danger, or place themselves in a defensive posture. For example, a sword might leap from its scabbard into its wielder’s hand in preparation for combat of an extreme nature, to the extent of moving said hand into a defensive posture.
Finally, there was the relationship between sword and stone. If a wielder died the sword must return to its stone. A sword could not reveal the location of its stone, or another’s for that matter. A sword could not remove itself from its stone. Only a potential wielder might do so.
There was a protocol for the sword/wielder relationship that must be adhered to at all times. When a potential wielder grasped the pommel of a sword, it must first discern the suitability of the would-be wielder before it can even be removed the stone. The sword must initiate the relationship by asking if the person grasping their hilt would be the sword’s wielder. There are but two possible outcomes from the question: the sword returns to the stone or the sword accepts the wielder. The sword would provide its own scabbard and belt and removes any other primary weapon form the wielder’s possession. A wielder may only possess one Runesword with only one exception. That exception falls in line with the fourth Sword Law. Most importantly the relationship between sword and wielder could not be ended by force. It began by mutual consent and could only end by the choice or death of the wielder, or by demand of the sword if the wielder acted in a manner counter to a particular sword’s character. Those were the only possible outcomes to the relationship.
Of course, DeathBringer being above the law, with the noted exemption of the first law, was not required to adhere to the sub-laws either. In its capacity of arbiter it might reveal what it needed to, it might remove itself from its stone if necessary, and it might act in any capacity while in its stone. It might manifest itself as an astral projection of its corporeal self if necessary to carry out its prime directive.
All of this and more Dao instilled in his creations as each was wrought and enchanted and imbued with its sentience. When all was said and done he looked upon his creations with pride and approval.
The Swords of Neutrality he forged from silver star of archanite and each were longswords, both had rubies set in their pommels. The rubies bore the rune of control, Meldriran. They were Timekeeper, the Sword of Time, whose hilt was swept style, and Kalaban, the Crystal Sword, whose hilt was a straight cross guard.
The Swords of Good he forged from white archanite; two were longswords and the other was a hybrid type, but all had the same ruby set in the pommel. They were Lightbringer, the Finger of God, Shalamar, the Sword of Truth, and Durendel, the Sword of Justice. The two longswords had minor differences in their hilts, mostly in the guards. Shalamar had curved quillons, one turning up, the other down, while Lightbringer had a straight cross guard and was unadorned save for the gem in the pommel. Durendel was a cross between a longsword and rapier. A single hand, swept hilt sword, with a blade length of three feet. It was designed for cutting as well as thrusting, with a double edged blade, a unique weapon designed for both armored and unarmored combat.
The Swords of Evil were forged using black archanite. They were different types of sword but all with the same ruby. Nightbringer, the Fist of Satan, was a longsword with a basket style guard, swept hilt, wrought from silver star of archanite. The intricately wrought filigree style guard had small sharp thorns designed to pierce the hand of the wielder when gripped. Darkrune, the Sword of Night, had a straight cross guard with small fang like edges to catch and break an opponent’s sword. Instead of a ball pommel inset with a ruby, it had a pommel fashioned after the head of a wolf with ruby inset eyes. Gor, the Destroyer was a broadsword, simply adorned, with a basket hilt.
Every sword bore DeathBringer’s rune, Meldriran, as well as the rune of making. There were other runes carved into the blade based on the sword and its purpose. Timekeeper was clearly the first ‘Sword of Law’ and had the most power and least constraints of the eight Runeswords. Lightbringer and Nightbringer were the most powerful of the Swords of Good and Evil. They were also the most restrictive, only the purest or blackest of heart could wield them. The other swords were powerful but limited in scope; justice, truth, things of the night, and destruction. Of all the swords only Gor was equal to Timekeeper in lack of constraint, quite literally nothing could stand against it. Of all the swords, Kalaban had the broadest scope, but required the kindest heart to properly wield it. Each sword knew the quality required to wield it and each determined its own selection process. Only Gor’s rejection was fatal, while Lightbringer, Nightbringer, and Shalamar could modify their wielder. The other swords had varying ways to reject an unworthy candidate. All in all, Dao was quite pleased with the results of his forging.
It would be years later that Melvina would use the knowledge she gleaned at Dao’s hand and forge two more Runeswords. She also used that piece of ruby to fashion an elaborately carved throne. She bound the swords to the throne and gifted them to her people as a symbol of their majesty and might. Like the rose, her people were both beautiful as well as deadly. Those swords would become a second exception to the law concerning the wielding of multiple swords. And with those swords she would add a ninth law:
‘The quality of he who tends the roses shall determine whether or not they will bloom.’
By the time Dao had completed the swords his children, yes he thought of them as such now, were fully grown and getting restless. They had explored every bit of the various landmasses of the archipelagoes and all lands to the north and south. They were adept at weapons and magic and of the three, Melvina was strongest in Eldritch lore. They had surpassed all of Dao’s expectations and so it was with a father’s pride that he revealed to them the last lesson he had for them, the lesson of creation.
Dao revealed to his children that he had populated this planet upon originally settling here before his trek to discover a fragment of his home world. He told them that his current body was not his original form and that he had evolved to a non-corporeal state. After showing his children the fundamentals of creation he left them to their own devices and withdrew to contemplate all that he had created. He was immensely satisfied with his efforts.
Dao’s three children picked different places to start their creations. They chose areas that suited their needs and their ideas on how they wanted to proceed. For all their desires for autonomy they went about the procedure identically, to the point that their creations had similar looks. Dao chalked that up to his children being triplets and thinking enough alike that they were always completing each other’s sentences.
Driscoll chose the forests and fertile valleys of the western reaches and created an even more fertile environment to start his creations. He loved the outdoors, the trees, shrubs, all manner of plant life. His relationship with animals was almost spiritual and those traits he instilled into his creations. Of the three, his knowledge of Eldritch lore was the weakest. That was not quite right; he was an Adept after all, but he was just more interested in how Eldritch related to plants, animals, and the natural world in general than he was in Eldritch for its own sake. He gave birth to a race devoted to the natural world and called them Elfen.
The Elfen flourished in the forest environment and relished their role as stewards of the natural world. They created villages within the trees without ever changing the ecosystem. They lived in a harmonious relationship with their surroundings. They were the first-born of a host of different races through the ages, all sharing the knowledge of the lore of wood, rock, and water. All the different sub-races of elves, including the sea-faring races, and the Sidhe, as well as the children of rock, the dwarves, gnomes, and goblins, shared a common ancestor in the Elfen. Even the Shoc-Du, the dark elves, who were not elves at all. Over the millennia Driscoll would look back in pride on the mark his creation had made.
Randolf chose the lands east of the great forest that the Guthards had named Thangdaema. Loosely this translated to ‘Tree Spirits’, but Randolf liked the name and decided to use it. His nature of rules and honor he tried to instill in his creations. He gave them a thirst for knowledge and information as well as a sense of honor and righteousness. Over time the thirst of knowledge would consume his creations and overshadow all the other traits he gave them. It was with a heavy heart that he looked back on his children and realized they had become power hungry and delved in lore best left alone.
The Thangdaemons built elaborate castles throughout their home lands and delved deep into the darker lore of Eldritch. They were the ancestors of the races of man, of Orc, Ogre and Troll, as well as, the other less known nefarious races. They were strong of constitution and their traits always bred true.
Melvina took a completely different tack. After conferring with Dao she explored the fifth planet from the sun and decided to start her creations there. Dao had named the planets when he first found the system and Melvina decided to name her creations after the planet of Tarra. Melvina, with Dao’s help, seeded the planet with the necessary flora and fauna to support a multitude of differing life forms. After thanking Dao for his assistance she settled in an area within the central landmass and began her creations. Melvina was loyal, trustworthy, single-minded in her pursuit of her desires, and steadfast in her ideals, all of this and more she instilled in her creations. She added strength of thought, strength of heart, and will, as well as the ability to tap into the flow of Eldritch, as fundamental traits. The one thing that caused her anguish was that her creations were an evolutionary dead end. There would be no offspring races sprung from the loins of her children. In fact she would find that her most successful line would require interbreeding with one of her brothers’ creations to even have viable descendants. To make up for that flaw she ensured that any coupling would be successful and would produce male offspring to continue the line. She was never able to determine why her children were so genetically flawed, but their capabilities and advancements in other areas far outweighed that disappointment.
She took the remainder of the ruby that Dao had given her and wrought a throne worthy of her children. She tied the power of the rose swords to the throne and limited the potential wielder pool to only members of the royal line. Furthermore, she included the ability to draw upon great power when the ruler wielded the longsword. There were other incentives, if that was the proper word, that she included, when the longsword and the shortsword were wielded together.
Although the three created the different races they were revered equally by all. There were temples dedicated to each of the three in all the major cities of each of the races. They even had oaths they used, dedicated to the three Gods; ‘By the Three’, being the most common. The Tarrans related more to Randolf though; they had developed into a military society with different castes of warriors that held him in high esteem as their patron. The Thangdaemons on the other hand, related more to Melvina. She being the epitome of power and magic, they revered her abilities and built great temples to her. Driscoll’s Elfen due to their love of nature stayed close to their creator. That is not to say that the others did not have followers with the Elfen, because they did. Driscoll held the clear advantage within his creation, while the other two could not say the same with theirs.
Of all his children, Dao loved Melvina best. A thing that he would never reveal to any of them, but a parent always has a favorite. Perhaps it was because she was most like him, or that she was so eager to learn, but whatever the reason he wanted her to succeed on a scale even greater than he had. So, with that in mind he observed her diligence, her single-minded focus in her tasks, with a heavy dose of ‘Father’s Pride’. He might have even added a little something extra to the brew that would become her ‘children’. He probably should not have, but then again he would not later have his greatest tool. That, however, was a completely different story…
The Orion sector, Rito III, 3158 GST (Galactic Standard Time)
“Well, that is quite the story and explains a lot,” Reg declared as he sat his harp down and stood up, stretching his back. “I thought you told me that the human body could not handle Eldritch in its purest form.”
“Melvina and her brothers were exposed over a long period of time, probably while still in their mother’s womb. You are a completely different story, but that is not why I told you the story.”
“Why have you told it to me then?”
“So you would perhaps understand why I do what I must.”
“So, Deathbringer was created to protect the Mythos?” Reg asked, trying to understand. “But from what?”
“From aggression, both internal as well as external sources,” Dao explained. “I never fully satisfied myself that the loss of my world was natural.”
“Which explains Deathbringer’s power and autonomy.”
“Yes. Melvina never fully understood but I needed to insert controls that could not be overridden, even by me.”
“So, then why do you need Aaron, if you have Deathbringer?”
“Because Deathbringer was created to only protect the Goth System and there are other systems that require assistance. Some of which I cannot personally interfere in. So a secondary solution is required. Something to maintain the balance of things, so to speak.”
“Then explain it to him. Ask him first, he might surprise you.”
“I will take your suggestions under advisement. Good day Harpist,” Dao touched his forehead and vanished.
“Why do I get the distinct impression that nothing I said made any difference?” Reg asked rhetorically as he shook his head sadly.
“Because, My Lord, the Creator feels he knows all,” Timekeeper replied to the question. “Deathbringer believes differently.”
“And you know this how?” Reg touched the hilt of his sword.
“Because, we communicate, My Lord,” Timekeeper replied as if the answer was obvious. “My Lord, there is a significant anomaly that requires our attention.”
A doorway slid open in the fabric of time and Reginald Ravensblade, Harpist of Time, stepped through it and disappeared as the door closed behind him.
