by JD Franx
“No,” she moaned, “you don’t understand.” She started to cry, even though he could tell she was trying hard to keep the little bit of composure she had found. With the gentlest touch, he lifted her chin in an attempt to get her to look at him.
“Then explain it to me. I’ll listen. You must know that by now,” he said, and then stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears.
Trembling, she nodded her head, slowly. “I know you will, Kael, but you have to believe me... We must leave those weapons here, please. The only thing in existence the Dead Sisters fear are those weapons. They called them the Vai’Karth. It means Soul-Reaper, in the Ancients’ tongue. The two double scythe-like blades…” she stopped, and tried to swallow her fear as a few more tears ran from her eyes. Her body continued to shake, the force sending tremors down his own arms and legs.
Taking a deep breath, she peeked over Kael’s shoulder at the weapons as if she expected them to come after her with a life all their own.
“I am sorry I hit you, but my entire life has been owned by women of unspeakable evil, women who do not fear even death. You all know what they are capable of, but they fear the magic in those weapons more than anything else I know.”
“Tell me,” Kael said. “Tell me why they fear them.”
She took a deep breath, calming the slightest bit. “They believe the Vai’Karth were forged by the Gods, that a sentient being inhabits them. One blade was created in the hottest flames of the deepest plane of Hell, and the other in the celestial light of the highest Paradise realm. The Sisters say that the soul of an ancient Brethren was forged into each weapon, one from the Lower planes and one from the Higher. Because of this, they used metal that exists nowhere on our plane. The DeathWizard who wields those blades will be consumed by the power of the ancient Brethren and nothing will be able to stop him. More importantly to the Dead Sisters, he will not be able to be controlled by anyone, except the demon and the angel that were forged into one entity and bound to those blades.”
Kael listened to N’Ikyah’s tale with a chill tickling his spine, but wondered the whole time how much had been fabricated by the witches and for what reasons. As she finished, though, Kael could see that the tale seemed to have a small flaw: the Dead Sisters feared nothing, he knew that for a fact. As hard he tried to scare Arabella when he killed her, he saw no fear in her eyes as she died. He couldn’t help but wonder if their fear of these reaper-like blades was because they weren’t evil, but could be used against them.
Or perhaps the Vai’Karth were just that, weapons born of myth or legend, and made frightening by the passing of time and nothing more.
Kael looked at Kyah closely and asked, “Let me ask you something, and think about what I say.” Her attempt at a smile was the only approval he needed to continue.
“Is there any chance that the Dead Sisters fear these weapons because they’re not evil, but because they couldn’t control a DeathWizard who wielded them? That would make more sense, don’t you think? I can feel no evil in those weapons whatsoever, and you know how strong my magical sense is getting. I promise you, Kyah. The only thing that makes sense is that these weapons can do serious harm to their coven. Do you understand what I’m saying?” She sat there, with Kael holding her, as the tears slowly receded. It was minutes before she spoke, but when she did, Kael could feel the certainty in her unsteady voice.
“Kael, they fear those blades. I have seen how they speak of them when they think no one is around. They fear what they are, what you would become with them in your possession. Please, Kael, they scare me; just leave them here. They must have been hidden that well for a reason. How did you even know they were there? You sensed them didn’t you?” she begged, as she began to sob again, laying her head on his shoulder. Kael felt bad for her, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the blades.
There was no way he was going to leave those scythes hidden under the forge. They called to him, as if with a physical voice, as if they were an extension of his very soul. It should have terrified him, but for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand it didn’t.
“Yes, I felt them, but why fear them?” he said to Kyah. “If they’re evil, don’t you think the Dead Sisters would want them? You’ve seen what those women are capable of. You had to watch what they did to us in that cell everyday, and more importantly,” he said, hesitating before caressing her cheek once more and pressing on, “you know what they did to your family. They have even taken a demon as their God. There is no worse evil in any world than what those women are capable of. If they fear these blades, I promise you it is not because they are evil, but because they can be used against the coven,” Kael explained, pushing to make her understand.
“Do you really believe that, Kael?” she asked, with a slight hint of hope in her voice, as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. He smiled, pulling her closer and holding her.
“I do. Nothing else makes sense.”
Though they had both kept quiet, Kalmar finally broke his silence. “I’ve been thinking as well, and I believe that even if Kael is wrong and the Sisters are right, he has beaten every odd since he has arrived here, at least from what I’ve been told. I doubt some ancient demon could cause him much more than a headache, and an ancient angel would be a mere pain in the ass,” he laughed, as everyone but Kyah snickered at his joke.
Galen’s opinion differed little. “It’s likely those weapons were made here and hidden under the forge where they would be protected from damage by the dragonbone for when the day came that they’d be needed. When you consider we have no arms or armour, they are needed now, by us. You should take them, Kael. Your strength of will can protect you from anything, my friend. I’ve seen it. I know in my heart that it won’t let you down.”
“Thank you, Galen. Come on, Kyah,” Kael said, as he took her hand and helped her up off of his lap. “Let’s take a look at them first and see if there is anything more that we can sense about them, okay?” Wiping at her eyes, Galen handed her a cloth from one of the travel packs.
She took a deep breath before answering. “I have given my trust to no other before you. You have not let me down, in any way, Kael” she said, trying to show a brave face even though the slightest touch of fear was still present in her quivering voice. She kissed Kael’s cheek, her breath soft, but hot. “Just hold me while we do this, fair enough?” she asked. He allowed her to melt against him while he slid an arm around her waist for support. They all stood with their attention riveted to the Vai’Karth.
“Granted, my experience with magical weapons and artifacts is pretty much nothing, but there’s no presence or any magic within the blades. Right?” Kael said. As he continued to take a close look at the matte black metal, misty silver shadows moved inside the metal of the blade, like spirits through the netherworld.
Galen jumped at the ghostly shadows. “Whoa, did you see that?” he asked, as he glanced at Kalmar and then back to Kael and Kyah.
“Yeah,” Kael answered, with a shortage of emotion. He was transfixed by the movements of the wisps inside the weapons. It was a frightening, but seductive feeling at first, but in seconds, it warmed his body as if the Vai’Karth had been forged from the same power or entity that had created his life, his very soul. Kael blinked several times as he realized that he had been lost in his own thoughts and not listening to the others.
“Kael? Gods, Kael, listen to me!” Kyah barked, as she pulled free of his embrace and spun him around.
“Yeah, I’m listening…”
“No, you were not. You were somewhere else. This is what I was talking about. These weapons are not right. Are you talking to them, Kael? Are there whispers inside your head already?”
“No. I was just focused on them. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen, that’s all.” She cocked her head to the side and gave him an ‘are you sure’ look. He smiled to reassure her. “I’m fine. No voices, I promise.”
Taking a breath to clear his busy mind, Kael looked to
the others. “Does anyone sense or feel anything about them? I can’t get anything from them,” he lied, saying nothing about what he experienced.
Galen, raising his hands in mild frustration, offered, “Besides the fact that I don’t recognize the metal, I can only feel residual magics in the scythes. Dormant enchantments maybe, but that might be pushing it even. Kalmar? You’ve seen more artifacts like this than I even know about.” Focused on the Vai’Karth, the five hundred year old master wizard tapped his Gyhurra collar and shrugged his shoulders but said nothing.
Kyah however, agreed with Galen’s initial assessment.
“You’re right, Galen,” she said. “I feel nothing but the leftover magics of the forge, though my senses are not as strong as yours. I am still uncertain whether or not they will harm you, Kael.” As he looked over at her, Kael could see that she was still scared of the weapons.
He pulled her close, tight, and gave her a hug. “Are you sure you don’t sense anything?”
“I do not believe so, but I will not lie to you. They terrify me. I hope they are harmless, but it is big risk to use them. The stories…” she warned, yet again.
“All right, then,” Kalmar said, stepping up to the forge. “Let’s have a closer look at them before we touch, shall we? Use the dragonskin to turn or move them, just to be safe. Kael? Care for the honours?”
Kael nodded and released Kyah so he could pick the weapons up using the dragonskin cover they were hidden in. Kalmar coughed and cleared his throat as he prepared to explained what he noticed as the wizard with the most experience with magical artifacts.
“Both weapons appear to be identical to one another. The handle, two feet long, seems to be made from carved and inscribed dragonbone. That might be the reason we can’t detect anything. Slide them closer, Kael, here,” Kalmar pointed, as Kael used the dragonskin to pull the weapons closer for a better look at the engravings. “Good, thank you,” Kalmar said, before he asked, “Kyah, my dear, why did you call these weapons Soul-Reapers?”
“I heard some of the Sisters talking about them one night, maybe eleven years ago. I do not remember much. Mistress Voranna and her ternion had just returned from a quest the Cardessa had sent them on. They had been gone for many months. She was in a good mood, which was rare for Voranna after being gone from home for so long. Even so, she began arguing with Arabella about the Vai’Karth almost immediately. Voranna told her that the word Vai’Karth meant Soul Reaper in Ancient, that it was magic beyond both their understanding, and too dangerous to use. As the number two Sister, she wanted them destroyed. Arabella’s ternion had been searching for them for decades and finally she thought she had a real lead on where they were hidden. She wanted to keep them for the coven. Voranna and Arabella had been rivals for as long as I can remember. One of them will be the next Cardessa... I guess Voranna will be now. Anyway, I did not hear the rest of the conversation, they left the building still fighting about them. Sorry,” she apologized, and shrugged. “I told you it was not much.
“Hmph.” Kalmar grunted and shook his head. “Sounds like Kael might be right, but I’ll keep that in mind. These engravings are Dragon hieroglyphics and they mention souls, but the rest is unfamiliar. Kael? Turn them sideways if you will, please. Kyah, give me some light?” Kael dragged the Vai’Karth to the side as Kyah muttered her spell. A light floated up and over their heads, illuminating the entire forge room. Once again, Kalmar revealed what he saw.
“Much better, thank you, dear. Again, look here. The symbol for soul and the one for power, but the rest I’ve never seen. I don’t understand why the Dragons or their Kin would have ever given permission for a weapon handle to be made from Behemoth bone. It’s sacrilegious; only immediate Kin can use materials like these and then only certain parts. Then there’s the blades, I don’t recognize the dull black metal at all. Nothing about it is familiar, though it is slightly possible that it could be dragon tooth, but I wouldn’t bet on it. The silver wisps that you can see now and then speak of a deeper enchantment that might be locked away or maybe it’s just the metal it’s made from. I’m at a real loss, Kael. These weapons have to be at least ten thousand years old based on the carvings, maybe more. It’s a mystery to say the least,” he said, going silent.
“You have no ideas at all, Kalmar?” Galen prodded.
“No, without my magic, I can’t begin to guess, but the rest of the weapon, let’s see. The first blade is attached to the top of the handle like a reaper’s scythe, and yet the second, shorter, blade is attached to the bottom of the handle also like a scythe, but it runs in the opposite direction from the blade above it. Both blades have a scythe’s downward curve. Very strange, overall. Never seen anything quite like it. It kinda looks like a straight backed letter Z, doesn’t it, Kael?” As he shifted the dragonskin and tilted his head, Kael understood what Kalmar was seeing.
“Oh, yeah, I see it. You know, Kalmar, if one held it right, the bottom blade could almost be used to shield yourself from an attack that would hit your side or if you flipped the handle, then the larger blade would protect against a freakishly strong enemy.” Kael pointed out.
“Like an Orotaq warrior, maybe?” Kalmar suggested. Kael nodded. “Very perceptive. I would’ve never seen that. My combat training was with a staff. You seem to understand how such strange weapons could benefit you already.” Kael shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “Now, what else can we see?” the old wizard challenged the others.
“What are those little curved spikes for? The ones at the top and sides of the handles?” Kyah’s enquiry shifted everyone’s scrutiny back to the weapons. Kael’s mood darkened. The others noticed as he spoke.
“I can answer that. Lycori’s daggers and most Orotaq obsidian weapons have something similar on them. Look at the blades that Galen stole,” Kael said, as he turned. The younger wizard pulled both blades from his sheaths at the prompt and sure enough, the hooks were present at the handles. “They’re for hooking an enemy’s weapon and then locking it to your blade. When Lycori taught me how to fight with weapons after I arrived, she explained that if you were stronger than the person you were fighting, you locked their weapon with the hook and held it away from you. It gives you an opening sometimes. That advice saved my life in the Northern Mountain Pass the day before we were taken… Sorry, give me a minute…” Kael dropped the corner of the dragonskin and turned away from the forge, wiping at his eyes with his stolen cloak. Kyah went after him when he shuffled away to be alone, but Galen touched her arm and shook his head, offering her a gentle smile.
“Come, Kyah,” Kalmar offered, with his hand out, “help me finish so we can figure out what we plan to do next.” She watched as Kael left the forge room and entered the hallway, where he put his back to the wall and slid down it coming to a rest on the floor. He lowered his head onto his knees and covered his head with his arms. Kyah smiled and nodded to Kalmar as she took his hand and stepped up to the forge.
“Give it time, my dear. He’s lost so much in only a few months. Help him when you can, but give him the space he needs to heal. His attention will turn your way only when he is whole again,” the old wizard said, and gave her a hug.
Kyah dipped her head in agreement and focused on the task at hand. “Anything else about the weapons, Kalmar? Any instinctive feelings?” she asked.
“They’ll be complex and intricate weapons to use, but with practise, I think they could be deadly. An opponent would never really be able to tell from what angle one of those blades will come from. But I don’t see anything inherently evil about them, but with no magic I can only trust my instincts, as I said before. What the excess magic is, who knows, probably just left-over magic from the forging process like you figured.” The three stood side by side and chatted back and forth about the Vai’Karth and weapon enchantments for almost a half hour before Kael returned.
Though his eyes were red and swollen, he seemed to be more himself. “So?” he asked, “Are they safe? Or is my soul at risk of eternal da
mnation if I use them?”
“They should be safe,” Kalmar offered, “but you’ll have to be vigilant. There is a residual magic there that is probably nothing, but it could flare to life given the proper trigger. I don’t believe it to be so, but I have been wrong before, believe it or not,” he smiled.
“We think they’re safe,” Kyah said, her earlier fear mostly gone, “but until you touch one, we cannot be sure.”
“How about I touch one first?” Galen offered. “If something does go wrong, I’ll recognize it before Kael could and I should be able to fend it off. Kalmar would be the ideal choice, but without his magic…”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Kael, let me. Here,” he said, and nudged past him and Kyah. They moved back to give him some room and Kalmar followed suit. The wizard took a deep breath and smiled as he looked back over his shoulder. He grabbed the handle of one of the weapons and a loud crack of power snapped to life. Ejected away from the weapon, Galen spun across the room like a rag doll, thumping against the far wall.
“Son of a mother-less shit,” he howled as he landed, shaking his hand as if a venomous snake was attached to the end. “Holy, Mother Inara, that fucking hurts.” Kael on the other hand, burst out laughing as he pointed at Galen.
“I know that spell,” Kael blurted out, killing himself laughing. “You can’t touch those weapons.”
“You think so, you ass? Damn, Kael, I’m lucky to be alive and you think it’s hilarious. Quit being a dick!”
“You’re fine, and you didn’t almost die,” Kael said, as his laughter died out and turned into a smirk. “I got hit by the exact same spell in Jasala’s tower. It wasn’t made for you, so the enchantment gave you a warning. I’m sorry I laughed. It’s just I imagine that my face looked exactly like yours when it happened to me.” Galen grinned, a grin that quickly turned to laughter as well.
