by Joe Jackson
“Can I see your blade?” Corbanis asked almost immediately, and the Warlord chuckled.
Kris slid Black Diamond from its sheath and handed it over. It immediately drew the wide-eyed awe of nearly every other person in the camp. It wasn’t every day one saw a blade crafted out of what seemed to be a single, massive piece of diamond, and honestly, Kris didn’t know the truth of how it was made, either. What he knew was that it was astonishingly lightweight for a bastard sword, never needed to be sharpened, and could cut through damn near anything as easily as a vorpal sword. The blade had a long story behind it, but Kris thought of it only as Celigus’ final gift to him when he had completed his training.
“What is that thing?” Sharyn asked.
“It’s called Black Diamond,” Kris answered. “Celigus Chinchala gave it to me after I–”
“This was made by Terx; I suspected as much,” Corbanis muttered. “Looks like it was carved from one massive piece.”
“That’s the legend behind it, anyway,” Kris agreed.
“Do you still carry Erijinkor’s blade?”
Kris pulled the golden blade from his hip scabbard and passed that over to the demonhunter as well. Glory Stream had been bequeathed to him by the namesake of the very person they were going to rescue now. The guardian demon, slain in the Apocalypse, had left his sword to Kris, and though wielding two of the larger bastard swords didn’t seem like a good idea, he found they oddly complemented each other, and felt quite natural in his hands, even at the same time. He supposed being nearly six and a half feet tall and built as he was might have something to do with it, but he’d never subscribed to coincidences. Something about it felt ordained, for lack of a better term.
“So what’s the big deal about this Terx character?” Sharyn asked. “I’ve heard the name before, but does he just make nice weapons?”
“Nice weapons is putting it mildly,” Serenjols piped in. “Terx was from here, Mehr’Durillia, though I am not certain which realm. During a covert strike, he was captured and taken back to the Celestial Realm, presumably by a group of angels, who used some sort of magical compulsion to keep him there, making weapons for them instead of their enemies.”
“So they’re made by slave labor?”
The entire camp went quiet at that comment, all eyes flashing to Sharyn before people started glancing at each other, considering her words. It was an uncomfortable truth, but Kris knew there was far more to the story than that, including one fact that wasn’t common knowledge.
“He broke free of the compulsion a long time ago, though,” he said, surprising even Jol. “He chose to stay there in the end. I think his works have been better since then; he truly puts his heart and essence into what he makes now, instead of just doing as ordered.”
“When did that happen?” Jol asked.
“A few centuries ago,” Kris said with a shrug. “Not sure exactly when, but that’s the story as far as I’ve heard it.”
“So why are his weapons so important?” Sherman asked, Sharyn leaning into him.
Kris found the paladin and werewolf being romantically involved interesting, but left them to their own devices. “They’re just extremely well-made, virtually indestructible in some cases. I’m sure you’ve seen Kari’s weapons; now you’ve seen Black Diamond. There are a few others in the hands of people back home on Citaria, but it’s pretty rare for a mortal to wield them aside from here on Mehr’Durillia, where his work was once commonplace. I think there’s a blade called the Sword of the North Wind back home that was made by Terx. Looks like it was carved out of ice.”
“I remember that sword,” Sonja said. “We rescued an elf from Si’Dorra – Shefter – who had mentioned it. He said it was wielded by a luranar paladin that died in the Apocalypse fighting Arku. I forget his name offhand, but he was their king.”
“So how does one get a weapon made by Terx, other than stealing one or killing some silly warrior that shows them off to everyone?” Sharyn joked.
Kris smirked, but it was Eli who answered. “You find transportation to the Celestial Realm and give him one of these,” the half-corlyps said, pulling forth a platinum token from his belt pouch.
“What are you doing carrying that around?” Kris asked.
“Figured we might be able to bargain our way out of trouble with it, if it came down to that,” Eli answered, rubbing his thumb across the surface of the disk.
“I meant: Why haven’t you used it yet?”
“It’s not mine,” the half-corlyps returned with a shrug. “I’ve just been holding onto it.”
“Well, if we pull this off, we may have to draw lots to see who deserves to use it.” Kris’ words had the intended effect: He saw solemn nods all around the campfire, but they were quickly replaced by smiles of confidence. Curiously, the one he found the most assuring was that of Liria. “All right, why don’t you start filling me in on what we can expect from the people here?”
Chapter V – Through the Glass
He hardly noticed the strain on his arms anymore. Even the limited freedom he’d been given lent him a confidence and enthusiasm that hardly let him sit still for a minute. It had taken weeks before he felt like anything more than a prisoner. When he was left alone and told to get some rest while he could, he invariably came here instead, and passed countless hours looking out the windows at a world he simply couldn’t understand.
Typhonix wasn’t as smart as Sonja or Aeligos, but he knew he was pretty sharp by any standards. And yet, looking out over the city of Streka, he couldn’t make heads or tails of the society he saw. His had been a life of hunting demons, fighting in the Apocalypse, wielding the axe and a little bit of divine power in defense of the common people. Through study, he had learned a lot about economics and politics, and had been able to help Kari run her household.
What he saw here, though, made him feel like an utter simpleton.
Kris had warned Ty up front that it was going to be like going to a different world. Even that, though, hadn’t put things in proper context. Mehr’Durillia was literally another world, and yet it was very similar to the one Ty and his friends and family knew. This place was unlike anything Ty had ever imagined in his wildest dreams, from its grand buildings, electrical power, and technology that eliminated the need – or allowance, as Ty had been informed many times – for magic, to its vehicles that moved themselves with no need for beasts of burden – or, in some cases, that could fly, for pity’s sake.
For several weeks now, he’d been staying here at San Bernardo Memorial Hospital. The doctors, as they called them here, had done their work, and from what he’d been told, the surgery was a success. Now, however, came the truly difficult part: He had to get his body and his mind back into shape. The muscle would come back, and he would regain the ability to walk, of that he had no doubt. But as stubborn as he was, Ty knew the doctors were right, and there was a degree of mental rehabilitation that had to come with it.
He hadn’t been paralyzed for all that long, but he’d gotten used to many aspects of being confined to the wheelchair, and those habits would take time to break. They had warned Ty not to rush back into demonhunting – which they’d spoken of with the same bit of bewilderment he felt about their technology – until he was mentally prepared. Doubt would be one of his biggest enemies in the months and years to come, and Ty had to beat back any of the hesitation or fear that might cost him his life the next time it was on the line.
Ty smiled, and could see the reflection of it in the broad window. The sun was high and bright, shimmering in brilliant cascades and rainbows off the many glass surfaces of the urban jungle before him. It was an alien place, and he was sure he’d never want to live here based on its endless hustle and bustle, but this place, these people, had given Ty back his freedom. And despite the gruff exterior he preferred to keep in place, he made sure to let them know he was thankful, every day.
Ty swung back into his bed, and used the side rails to reposition himself until his tail and w
ings were comfortable. It was a small blessing to even be able to feel his tail again, to know when it was pinned under him uncomfortably. The feeling had been steadily returning in his legs, right down to his toes, but like everything else, it was slow progress. Ty was a bull, impatient and determined, but there was no way around the time requirement of healing. The doctors told him a few months at best, and though he had resolved to prove them wrong, he resigned himself to their expertise for the most part.
It had taken some convincing to get the staff to install the “monkey bars” that allowed Ty to move around the room and at least keep his upper body in shape. They also let him get to the window to admire the view, particularly the sunsets and the colorful array of city lights in the night. The therapists would’ve preferred he save his energy for his attempts at standing, but he’d surprised them all with his stamina every time they’d tried to raise an objection. Little did they know that Ty was working on standing and taking baby steps using the monkey bars when no one else was around.
If anything, it was the stamina of the therapists that was holding Ty back…
As if on cue, his two daytime therapists, Malcolm and Jesse, came into the room with the wheelchair. They stared at him laying in the bed and their faces creased into knowing smiles. “Looking out the windows again, big man?” Malcolm asked.
“Just getting some stretching in before the real work begins,” Ty answered.
The two humans chuckled and lifted Ty down into the wheelchair. He figured he was perfectly capable of getting into it himself, but they always insisted, so he humored them. One of the more prominent generals in the history books Ty liked to read was often remembered for his quote, “Just because a battle is easily won doesn’t mean it’s worth fighting.” He hated the feeling of being fawned over, but it was what these men were paid to do, so he was content to let them feel fulfilled.
“Any luck standing yet?” Jesse asked.
“Not yet, but I’m getting there. I can get flat on my feet, but I’m still a bit top-heavy for some reason I can’t put my finger on…”
The men laughed again as they wheeled Ty out into the hall and toward the lift. The lift itself was a wonder to Ty, but at the same time, he wondered how soft all these technological wonders made the people. He had built himself into a brute with all manner of strength and conditioning exercises starting when he was barely ten. Something about having four older brothers, two of whom were extremely large, had bred a need for Ty to grow up as big and strong as he had any say in becoming.
Then again, looking at the muscular therapists, he thought maybe it had more to do with determination and dedication than demand. The darker one, Malcolm, clearly spent a good deal of time working out, and though Jesse was smaller, he was still well-proportioned.
Ty smirked as the lift reached the proper floor and they brought him over to the exercise and rehabilitation facilities. He returned the polite waves of the administrative staff at the front counter as he was wheeled past. He had regaled the staff here with stories of the Apocalypse and his siblings’ adventures during the War. The staff mentioned a single attack by some demonic entity early on in the War, but apparently, the Strekan Province remained otherwise untouched. Even Ty had little idea why that might have been, but he rarely had the time to ask about it, as entranced with his stories as the staff normally was.
Something tingled in Ty’s mind as they passed toward the pool room. It was the niggling feeling of danger, something that usually excited him, but not in this condition. He glanced at his chaperones and let his appraising gaze linger on every person they passed, but those who weren’t known to him appeared to be other patients and their family. There was a preternatural sense of unease, though, and Ty was sure something strange was in the area. He thought of the attack on the city during the Apocalypse; could there be other demons that stayed in the city, just better hidden?
Jesse and Malcolm showed no signs of anxiousness. When they reached the pool room, they undressed to the swimwear they wore under their uniforms and then helped Ty down toward the water. He gripped parallel bars and got his feet beneath him, his therapists on either side. Walking in the pool was always a bit easier, with his weight somewhat diffused. Ty’s brow scrunched up as he got that feeling of danger again, though. There was something in the air, but he couldn’t say exactly what it was he felt other than unprepared.
“Something wrong?” Malcolm asked.
Ty considered his surroundings again, but then shook his head. He took his time with that first step, mostly supporting his weight with his arms as usual. His legs were responsive, but he had virtually no strength or dexterity in them, and if not for the men helping, he’d probably be stuck just holding himself up with his arms. Ty could hardly believe the state of his legs: He’d once had legs like a wrestler, but now they were atrophied and frail-looking. It was going to take some time to get back to where he was.
But he could, and he concentrated on that.
Ty’s eyes closed in shock, and he slowly opened them as they adjusted to a blinding light in front of him. His mouth dropped open and he lost his grip on the bars as he beheld the little hovering ball of light. Thankfully, stunned as they were by its appearance, Jesse and Malcolm got their wits back about them and got Ty safely above water in moments. Once he was secure, though, they stood as speechless and transfixed as he.
“Grakin?” Ty whispered.
There was no response, but Ty remembered Kari’s stories about seeing the little ball of light since the death of her husband. Ty had never been that close with Grakin, but he had always respected the priest’s faith, and had long been defensive of his quiet, frail older brother. He thought of Grakin watching over Kari beyond the grave, and Kari’s tales of how many times he had saved her life or guided her toward safety or success during her mission on Terrassia. To find the man who was most responsible for Ty being alive here, now, when he had been dead for over half a year, was heart-wrenching and yet uplifting.
Ty took a step forward and then another. It was easier in the pool; he wouldn’t have called it progress, but he knew his therapists would disagree. The little ball of light hovered over the far end of the pool as if inviting Ty to come to it. And he worked toward that goal, casting aside any doubts or despair. He left Jesse and Malcolm behind, the two men staring wide-eyed at the globe of radiance, but Ty’s grip remained firm, and he took a third and then a fourth step before his helpers even realized he’d escaped their grip.
A fifth step, then a sixth.
“What is that?” came a call from the doorway as more people pushed into the room to see what was lighting up the entire area. Confused and excited chatter filled the air, and Ty caught many words: Angel; miracle; avatar; ghost; spirit.
Ty took a seventh step, then an eighth before his therapists returned to his side.
Others tried to get near the ball of light, but it pulsed, sending out a shockwave that knocked the onrushing people back. It was a soft force, though, like a gentle push rather than the concussive force of an explosion. It brushed past Ty ineffectually, and Jesse and Malcolm also seemed undisturbed by it. They continued to help Ty walk, but their eyes remained fixed almost exclusively on the luminous phenomenon.
Ty took his ninth and tenth steps. He was halfway across the pool.
“Grakin?” he asked again.
“Who’s Grakin? Is that the name of an angel?” Jesse prodded.
“He was… my brother,” Ty said. “But my sister-in-law – his wife – said she’s seen him in this form since he died. Grakin was a healer…” Ty took two more steps, then another two. “He’s the only reason I’m here and not buried somewhere in DarkWind.”
Jesse blurted an epithet, but Malcolm finally turned and looked at Ty. “Do you want to go to him on your own? We’ll watch in case you fall.”
Ty shook his head. “If you can see him, it’s because he wants you to. You two got me this far, may as well take me the rest of the way.”
That
made the two men smile, and they helped Ty as he continued to put one foot in front of the other. With the distribution of weight less than an issue, Ty allowed himself to be a bit reckless with his footsteps. He crossed the length of the pool for the first time, and stood tall before his brother’s spirit.
The normally gruff half-guardian couldn’t stop the tears from escaping his eyes. The radiant ball didn’t hurt to look at, but the thought of his brother refusing his due rest disturbed him in a way he found chilling. “What is it, Grakin? Why are you still here?”
No answer came forth, but once Ty reached toward the light, it winked out in what he could only think of as a disappointing turn of events. He looked around at the room, suddenly acutely aware of the number of people that had been capturing the event on their little devices. They had so many different types that could capture still images or even moving pictures, all of which Ty found puzzling yet astounding. But as alien as the technology was to him, he had no doubt word – and visual evidence – of this encounter was going to spread like wildfire.
You sneaky bastard, Ty thought, cracking a half-smile.
He had hoped to be able to speak with his brother’s spirit, but even when he realized he’d been used, he still felt proud. His brother had used the opportunity not just to encourage Ty to success, but to give hope to these people in this foreign land. So many different words and phrases had greeted Grakin’s appearance, and Ty knew that the people here followed many, many different faiths – several of which had nothing to do with the pantheon he knew. But they all had beings of light, whether angels or avatars or whatever they liked to call them, and every one of them had just borne witness to their existence.
