by Greg Dragon
“Chaos? Portal?” James Knight chuckled. “Yeah, this is really a joke and you’re not what you seem,” he said. He got up and reached behind him to get his pistol. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” he asked, bringing it up and leveling it at her head.
Alysia was bothered by his motion but his words had given her pause. Kendra Bell Knight was dead and she would have been in college. James Knight was home alone and came to his daughter’s room brandishing a weapon. She glanced around at the room once more, taking in details without the cloudy haze of nostalgia and familiarity.
I’m dreaming this, she thought, I am in my head and this reality is being altered by something else. She closed her eyes, hoping that she would open them again to the Yalem reality that she had grown to accept. She opened them and James Knight was still there but his gun was lowered as he waited for her answer.
“If this is real, Dad, then I am your daughter. The death of Mom is off, but in my memory she died to the demons and kreples that attacked you here while I was fighting for my life in New York. Giants appeared off the shore of—”
“Giants?” James Knight looked as if he wanted to laugh.
“You wanted to hear my story, so please, sit down and hear me out. Giants appeared on our shores, and demonic dinosaurs named kreples took to our streets. It’s through your training and my martial arts that I got through it, and I met a few friends along the way.”
Alysia told him everything that had happened, sparing little detail as she went along. When she got to the parts with Tracy, James laughed, but he grew quiet when he heard that he’d fallen in love with her and eventually got her pregnant. She told him about Yalem, Lenorela, and the games that Chaos continued to play. Then she revealed the fact that she was an old spirit, reborn as Lancert’s daughter, fathered by James Knight, waiting to take on the Turevila.
“That’s nuts,” James Knight said, but she could tell that he was considering it. “So, you came here, through a sort of meditative sharing,” he said.
Alysia couldn’t tell if he was sarcastically egging her on for more craziness, or if he was starting to believe that she was who she claimed to be. “I know that everything I’ve said sounds far-fetched, ridiculous, and highly unlikely. Trust me, Dad, I know, but all I can remember is what I just told you, and I am here as proof that the world you know will be destroyed. Here, I will prove it to you. See this ring on my finger?”
“It’s a beautiful ring,” he said, as she got up to show it to him.
“Try to hit me,” she said, but he only smiled and stood still, guarded.
Alysia knew that he wouldn’t comply, so she feinted to touch him and then reached for the pistol at the hip. James Knight reacted out of instinct, pushing her off and bringing the pistol up to warn her not to try it again. Instantly the dragon ring reacted and wrapped her skin in a shiny, black webbing of impenetrable mail. James looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“So, that’s the armor you mentioned,” he said and replaced the gun in the small of his back. “Can I touch it?”
“Of course! I’m totally protected, I’ve taken a cut from a massive great sword before and I’m still here to try and convince you that I’m real.” She winked.
James Knight walked over to the exterior wall and brought down a fancy katana from the hook. He unsheathed it, discarding the scabbard on the bed. He examined the blade and smirked; it was manufactured steel and had a beveled edge so it was little more than a toy.
Alysia made a face. “That's your choice of weapon to test my armor with? You're joking, right?”
“No, if that armor is fake you will still feel the impact of my cut.”
Alysia held out a mailed arm and James positioned himself to cut it off, holding the katana above his head and looking to her for confirmation.
When Alysia nodded he brought it down and pulled up, a motion that was a restrained cut meant for practice. The armor held and Alysia felt nothing, but she was annoyed at him for not following through.
“Dad, if you're going to cut the armor, cut like you mean it. I won't be hurt, trust me, and from that little test you should realize that this is metal of some sort.”
“Okay, CeeCee, I take your word for it. My daughter or not, this little game has gone on long enough. How would I be able to live with myself if I maimed you with this blunt instrument?”
“Swing the sword, Father,” she pressed, and James Knight nodded in earnest.
“Okay, girl, but this is on you.” He brought the blade down in a masterful strike. Alysia’s armor absorbed the blow and sent back the force into the blade. It was a metal meant to defend against demonic weapons, so for the replica blade, it didn't even move Alysia’s arm. What happened instead was that the blade shattered, sending metal fragments flying all over the room. James was taken aback, dropping the hilt and moving in close to inspect her arm.
“You should try it with my sword,” she said to him, and lifted Euphoria partially from its scabbard to show him.
“Beautiful blade, CeeCee, I can see it shows signs of use. I think that I'm satisfied with tests for now. Thank you very much.” He sat down in the computer chair as if he was exhausted and began to wring his hands as he stared at her. “If this is a game, you are going out of your way to get me. I just don’t see anyone going through all of this just to get a laugh. So I’m forced to believe you but now I wonder, am I going crazy, or was something done to me?”
Alysia replaced Euphoria and sat back down on the bed, calming her nerves so that the armor could retract.
An awkward silence followed with James suddenly bashful about looking at his daughter and Alysia unsure of what to say to him. They simply sat and thought. It seemed the longer they sat there the thicker the air felt, but for Alysia it was fine. She had decided that no matter what this was—dream or trick of Chaos—she would absorb as much time with her family as she could. She studied James Knight, trying to snap a mental photo of his likeness that she could pull up in the future when she needed it.
“CeeCee, let me see that sword,” he said finally, reaching out towards her with his palms facing up.
Alysia got up and reached behind her where she undid the knot and pulled the straps of the leather belt that held the scabbard in place. She handed it to her father, who took it in his hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She backed away from him a step and then sat on the floor, facing him the way she did whenever he would lecture her as a child.
“It’s obvious that you were sent back here for a reason,” he said as he examined the hilt and designs on the tsuba of the sword. “Kendra died and my CeeCee imploded. Grades started to suffer, she wouldn’t talk to me, and she fell into a deep depression that had me worried. You’re a fighter though, aren’t you, baby girl? The CeeCee here, my CeeCee, she fought past it, and is now kicking butt at her studies.” He chuckled. “Her mother thought that a college degree was everything for a young woman. CeeCee knew that and decided to honor her mother. I couldn’t ask for a prouder moment than the time when she told me that.”
He pulled Euphoria from the scabbard and balanced it on his hands. Alysia watched his mouth fall open when he realized just how light it was and how strong the metal was that comprised the blade. “Yalem, you say?” he asked as he examined it. “A gift from a high demon, to you, their would-be savior. This is some kind of weapon, CeeCee, it’s like something out of a movie. I bet if I put it to my ear it would sing a harmony so sweet that even an old man like me would cry.”
“You’re far from old, Dad.”
“Yeah? Tell that to my bones. Man, to have a weapon like this when I was nineteen … those bastards wouldn’t have a chance against old James Knight. I’ve only held one sword that made me feel the way this feels.”
Alysia was surprised. “Really? An earthly sword that makes you feel like Euphoria?”
“I don’t know about earthly, but the thing was special, just like the man who sh
owed it to me. His name is Donald, a buddy of mine in the Navy. I—”
“Oh, I know Donald,” Alysia started before catching herself too late.
“How would you know Donald, CeeCee? I haven’t seen that man in years.”
“In my past, the one where the giants attacked, Donald helped us to fight the demons that were after the bunker.”
“The old samurai in your story? That was Donald? What a weird coincidence, huh? Why would Donald be here to help fight off demons?”
“He had an old propeller blade or something, fashioned into a sword. I used it to kill the demon in the bunker, and when he died it was my main weapon until Lord Chaos gave me the Twilight Sword.”
“That’s him, alright, and that doesn’t seem like a coincidence. I bet if we put your swords next to one another, it would be hard to tell which one is the magical demon construct and which one isn’t.”
“It isn’t possible that Donald has a sword like this, Dad. That is Euphoria, and it’s full of magic.”
“I know,” he said, and stood up suddenly. “It would have been interesting, seeing his face when I showed up with your sword, but no one’s seen Donald in the last few years. Listen, I was on my way out, baby girl. What I need to do will only take about fifteen minutes. Do you think you can hang tight right here until I come back? ”
Chapter Four
When her father left and she was alone again, Alysia found herself looking through her old journals and sketch pads. There were many scribblings and doodles of things that one would expect from a girl growing up. One of the sketch pads had an elaborate drawing of a female warrior and she tried to remember who did it. Was it her father or her mother? No, it had to be someone who had been visiting.
The sword in the warrior’s hand was an exact replica of the Twilight Sword. It could be coincidence, she thought as she examined it. After all, that style of sword was pretty common. The woman was absurd in her scale mail bikini, sandals, and cloak. She looked like a model, fresh from the runway, ready to kick butt and get shredded to bits if reality played a part.
She turned the page and knitted her brow. There was another sketch of the woman but this time she was weaponless. She studied the picture before flipping the page back to the former warrior to see why it was they looked the same. Different outfits, different hair, but they felt the same, and had similar facial features.
Alysia should have just disregarded the pictures as gifted sketches by one of her parent’s talented friends, but she kept flipping back and forth, taking in the differences between the women. Why was there no recollection of this artwork, and why was it so intriguing to her when she should be wondering why an hour had passed and her father hadn’t returned?
“I named the sword,” she whispered. “How is it that I named the sword and it goes by that name in Yalem?”
There were only two reasons why she would have been able to name her sword and have it coincide with the real name that it had been given back when it was forged. Either she was this old bitter warrior, Ambriel Ilyse, or everything that had happened after receiving the sword from Lancert was a lie.
“Am I dead?” she wondered. It really did feel like she was going through her own torturous version of hell. An endless war with demons, players in their game using her as some sort of sword-wielding bargaining chip, and time with her family being altered so that she had to tell them who she was before they recognized her.
She didn’t know which of these concepts she wanted to believe, but either of them came with a wave of depression that threatened to cripple her. Was this woman, me? she wondered. Chances are this was me as a kid drawing something that I dreamt and not realizing that … no, I’m me, plus, I was never this good at art. She forced her eyes back on to the sketch pad and something caught her eye. An intended word that had been erased but stood out nonetheless.
She grabbed a pencil and shaded over it lightly, reading the resulting word. “Bliss” it said and her breath caught in her throat. She flipped the page, knowing there would be another erasure, and there it was plain as day. “Euphoria and Bliss,” she whispered, “two sides of the same coin.” She dropped the book and stood up. Pulling out the sword, she examined the blade and saw that it had changed.
“Hello, Bliss,” she said with a smile. “I’ve cracked your code, sweetheart.” She pointed the sword in front of her and inhaled slowly, then released her right hand so that she was only balancing it in her left. When she closed her eyes she felt the skin on her face tighten and she could tell that she was no longer in her bedroom. When she opened them, she was still in the meditation circle with her friends, but across her lap lay the fabled sword, Bliss.
“There’s a lot I don’t understand,” she said to Lancert, “but I think that in time I will get it. You have been back to my world several times, hiding things from Chaos there. I was the biggest secret you hid, and you knew that in time I would go back for my things. Two swords and the ring, scions of power, wielded by Ambriel Ilyse.”
“How do you feel?” Lancert asked, getting to his feet and pulling her up.
“Confused, exhilarated, a weight off my shoulders? I still don’t know what to make of Chaos sending me after the V’Kosha, but now I no longer have to chase down the sword.”
“We still have that circling beast overhead that we have to contend with,” Orwan said as he rubbed his eyes.
“That thing stands between me and a much needed rest,” Alysia said. “We’ll find a way to destroy it so that we can finally get some sleep.”
“I’ve done my duty and you’re complete,” Lancert said suddenly. When Alysia spun to ask him what he was talking about, he was already fading into nothingness.
“Are the high lords’ time limited on every single world?” Alysia asked Amarah.
“Unfortunately, yes. They are very powerful, but they require a lot of rest.”
Alysia held the two swords in front of her and examined them both, noting their familiarity and heft. She went through a series of katas, twirling them about, and a smile twisted her lips up when she felt the energy that pulsed from one arm into the next. She wanted nothing more than to cut into something, to experience the gifts that Bliss would bestow.
Amarah and Cyrio exchanged glances before approaching Alysia carefully. “How did you come by way of the sword?” Cyrio asked. “We closed our eyes, you were here with us, and when we opened them you had another sword in your hand. Was it Lancert?”
“I'm not sure. There's a lot of freaky things that happen here. I was back home when I closed my eyes, the home on my world, where I got a chance to talk to my father. I figured out that what Lancert said was true, that I'm this Ambriel somehow reborn. These were my swords, Euphoria and Bliss, and somehow I have always known.”
She looked up at Cyrio and gave him a shrug. She didn't really believe it herself.
“It's a beautiful weapon,” Orwan said. “I can't wait to see it in action.”
The sound of a screech took them out of their thoughts and they glanced skyward to see that the creature was diving towards them. Alysia’s ring encased her in armor and the swords glowed red inside her hands. She hustled to the obelisk, putting it between her and the dragon, then screamed for her comrades to follow.
Bortex picked up a spear left behind by one of the creatures they killed and maimed, with his other hand slanting up. The big man trotted forward and heaved it into the air, piercing the underside of the mighty beast as it made to land near the tall black pillar. It reached down with its snout and snapped the spear in half before using its tail to knock the big Ert down.
Fearing the worst, Amarah ran out from hiding and spun, releasing rays of fire from her outstretched hands. “Whoa!” Alysia shouted in disbelief since she hadn't seen any of her friends perform magic before.
Bortex kipped up in time to grab the foot of his brother, who screamed something as he charged towards him. This happened in an instant as the dragon reared up and C
yrio was thrown into the air to come down on the beast with his sword. But the dragon saw it coming and caught him in its jaws, then whipped him back and forth like a dog with a chew toy. When he finally released the Ert, he flew into the stairs with a disturbing crunch, and it was as if time stopped from the sheer horror.
Alysia dashed recklessly at the rear leg of the beast but was stopped short by a swift kick to the chest. The armor protected her for the most part, but she could barely breathe as she slid across the wet grass and into the side of the obelisk. Bortex ran to Cyrio and Alysia saw him move. She was more than relieved that he wasn’t dead.
The dragon turned on Amarah but the Ert was ready for it. Chanting strange words loudly and gesturing with her hands, she began to shimmer and then stepped to the side, leaving a cloned version of herself. The two Amarahs pulled their swords and ran in opposite directions around the dragon. The first one stabbed it in the side and the great beast countered by running around to face her and snap her up into its maw. This left his backside open to the real Amarah, who buried the blade in the soft underside of its right wing, then ran away quickly to avoid his retaliation.
Alysia was back up on her feet, winded but angry. She glanced over at her wounded friend, then back to the wounded dragon. Twirling her body and the swords in turn, she leapt into the air and came down with both blades, cutting into the dragon’s forepaw. It tried to charge her but the leg was done, and it stumbled and screamed in fury.
Seeing that the party of friends were not easy to deal with like others before, the dragon took wing and tried to fly, but the wound from Amarah’s blade exploded with blood. The dragon reared back, angry and desperate, then belched out flames redder than anything Alysia had ever seen. Amarah reacted with a gesture, and the fire went over her, an orb of force surrounding her and the two brothers. Orwan dove for safety and dashed behind the obelisk while Alysia chose instead to run beneath him.
