Sword of Ares

by Alex Morgenstern

  “Kassius. I did. You’re innocent.”

  “No. We were both there, I cannot just...”

  “We can also pretend I’m kidnapping you.”

  “No. Alana, I don’t want to put you at risk.”

  “And I don’t want to risk you.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m a citizen.”

  “But if you’re a traitor, you may suffer even a worse fate than I. Kasha. Let’s just be together. Let’s be strong.”

  Kassius stood up.

  “I am sorry, but we must. Come on, boy,” he said, calling Arcturus to his side.

  They walked stealthily through the round houses. Alana could still hear snoring soldiers and occasionally weeping and wailing.

  They crossed the narrow rocky paths where drowsy guards patrolled through the night. They walked in stealth, then pressed their backs against the walls to avoid being seen. When they reached the edge of the forest, Kassius sent Arcturus into the woods. Alana prayed for the dog to be safe, and soon, they rushed up the hill until they could see Elder Aranus’ small rock hut. A light still shone through the rocky windows, and the grey smoke from the chimney still escaped shyly.

  “It’s up there…” Kassius whispered through his teeth.

  Alana fixed her eyes on the door. Although it was dark, she could see a vague human shadow posted nearby.

  “And it’s guarded,” Alana said, then turned back to face Kassius. “What should we do?” she asked, expecting an answer.

  “Well, you’re the creative one,” Kassius muttered.

  “Let me think,” she said, scratching her chin. “We can’t pretend to be beggars and just walk in, can we? I mean, let’s get closer and see whether it’s one guard or more. We can maybe take him down.”

  Kassius took a deep breath and nodded. He took the carbon pen from his bag and started marking a sigil on his hands; a serpentine letter, and some elastic signs.

  “What is this one for?” Alana asked.

  “Not be heard, and not to be followed.”

  Alana cleared her throat.

  “Kassius, with all due respect, are you sure you are doing them right?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I mean,” she tried to choose her words carefully, but there was no other way to say it. “I think they’re not working.”

  “What do you mean they’re not working?”

  “Well, you didn’t exactly pass unnoticed. Someone caught you.”

  “Alana, they work, the sigils work,” he stated, raising his voice.

  “But, you saw...”

  “They work, okay? You just have to believe in them. Don’t break our astral connection or they will not work any more.

  Alana clanked her teeth. She knew from his tone of voice she could not change his mind about it at that time. Maybe he would see for himself.

  “Sure, sure. I believe you,” Alana said. “Sorry, I just... thought, maybe you can correct them or something.” He did put a lot of importance on those things. She could not complain that they wasted her time or anything, but they did not seem to be that useful either.

  “Correct them? Alana, I’ve been studying this my whole life.”

  “It’s alright, draw it on me. It’s fine, let’s just get done with this before the guard sees us.”

  ***

  The young soldier sat with his back toward the door, his eyes shut, his head tilting back and forth, as if between the world of the vigilant and that of the dreaming. Alana stopped behind a tree, from where she could see both the side view of the house and the soldier’s position. Kassius kept walking backwards up the hill, circling around the house. She paused for an instant. From there, above the boulder and at the top of the hill, she could see her own home. The roof was completely gone except for the concrete ring that surrounded the chimney and the furnace’s exhaust tube, and no light shone on the inside. She felt a deep sorrow fill her chest and stared at the ground for an instant.

  When she looked back up, Kassius was peeking from the other side of Aranus’ house, making a face.

  Alana nodded and went on with the plan, crouching steadily, stepping on her tiptoes, as she approached the snoring soldier with her scarf in hand. She leaned her back on the wall, ready to continue. Then, both her and Kassius could see each other again, a few feet away from the soldier, and they approached slowly, one on each side, until they stood right behind him.

  What an exciting moment! Alana grasped the scarf tightly, ready to use it. How she wished Gitara was there to see how stealth and jumpscaring people had become useful in a life or death situation.

  She took one more step with the side of her foot, careful not to make a sound.

  And a branch broke under her boot. She shut her eyes.

  The soldier woke up, stiffening his body, looking around and grasping the hilt of his sword.

  “Hey!” he screamed in the silence of the night.

  Chapter XVI - A Life for a Life

  Aranus thought that was it. His last day on earth.

  The centurion had sat in front of him again, eyes fixed, and had told him he was going to die.

  “So be it,” Aranus had said, between defiant and resigned to face his final destiny.

  The centurion did not like that response. He slapped him again, making his head turn and the bones of his neck clank.

  “If I die,” Aranus muttered through the pain. “Your men will die. The women will not be in peace. Vengeance will triumph.”

  “What a joke. What can a group of women do against the Legion that is keeping the world in place? That will only mean more deaths on their side,” the centurion scoffed and stood up.

  The centurion sat back in the corner without saying another word, and he leaned his head back and yawned. His comrade had fallen asleep sitting next to Aranus, but Aranus could not sleep. The pain still pulsated through his chest and abdomen, through his tied wrists.

  But the lamps went off, the centurion lay down over the old couch and started snoring immediately. Aranus closed his eyes again.

  His spirit anguished, but not for physical pain. He felt the weight of a hundred innocent men dying. Their limbs torn, their blood splattered. He envisioned their souls ascending to the abode of the fallen.

  While their women mourned around him.

  What was all that for? What had the gods planned? Was that the end of his people? Was that the destiny they had prepared for them?

  As the hours went by, Aranus’ mind became more restless. He begged the gods for clarity, for a vision. He had been preserved for a reason which he could not fathom.

  And suddenly, he heard the clanking of metal armour approach, slow steps in the darkness, and the faint reflection of steel armour.

  The figure approached slowly, and Aranus looked up, mind blank.

  The figure knelt in front of him, reached for his bound arms and untied them. Aranus felt the soft relief of his wrists being released, then his torso.

  At his side, the centurion woke from his slumber for an instant, and lifted his body, mumbling something.

  The figure spoke softly. “Got to tie him up again, it was all loose.”

  The centurion shut his eyes, to fade to black again.

  After the man had released him. He ordered Aranus to follow him outside. Aranus felt that his strength had left him. His liberator extended a hand and helped him out of the house, where the moon shone like a silver sun, almost full, and a cold wind made him shiver and clench his teeth.

  The soldier quickly covered Aranus’ shoulders with a long coat.

  “Come this way!” the soldier announced, guiding him down the stairs. He looked way taller than before, and his accent was not Itruschian.

  Aranus followed him down, out from the dark city streets, into the dark grove.

  “We're not far,” the armoured man said. Aranus noticed that the helmet fit him a little too big. His shoulder pads were l
oose, and the skirt of his tunic was quite short.

  “Where are you taking me?” Aranus asked.

  “To freedom.”

  As Aranus walked out of the path, he noticed a human body in underwear. It contorted quietly, shivering. It was the soldier that was guarding the entrance before; now, his face was muffled, and his wrists were tied. He felt pity as the man trembled under the freezing moon.

  As they walked into a sloppy clearing, Aranus noticed a hooded figure kneeling before a small fire fed by sticks and fallen branches.

  “Sit there,” the soldier said in his familiar voice, and Aranus sat with crossed legs in front of the fire. The soldier removed his helmet. It was Kassius, with a protective stave on his forehead.

  “Ala, I told you the sigil would work.”

  “By the Morningstar,” the hooded person responded with a girly voice. “I almost died waiting in here. I’m so happy you made it.”

  Aranus smiled, looking at his grandson.

  “So it was you?”

  “Grandfather!” Kassius also revealed a wide smile when he looked back at him. Then, he pointed at the girl. “Meet my wife,” Kassius pointed at the hooded figure.

  “I'm not your wife.” The girl uncovered her head, blond hair like a sunflower at dusk. It was the goldsmith's daughter.

  “Well, you better keep telling them you are, or they're gonna catch you,” Kassius said.

  “It's not as if they're not trying already,” she muttered.

  “Kasha,” Aranus said, unable to hide his smile. “It's you. What in the world are you doing here?” Aranus asked.

  “We needed to free you,” Kassius said, squatting next to the fire. In the segmented iron armour, he looked exactly like his father

  “Let me see your wrists,” The girl reached for Aranus’ hands. Aranus himself had not seen them, but the dim pain had prevailed. The skin of his wrists was lacerated, revealing red spots of peeled skin.

  “We've got to take care of this,” she said, holding his hand with her cold fingers.

  “I am fine.” He retracted his hand. “I am glad to see you both, that you are fine and alive. But I have to go back. If I don't, this may be catastrophic.”

  “But grandfather,” Kassius said. “We cannot let them hurt you.”

  “Kassius. It’s not the time. I must protect our people.”

  Kassius swallowed and looked at the ground.

  “But he is hurting you, Grandfather. I… I cannot allow that,” he said.

  “You must leave me. I love seeing you. I know you have become a great man and that the gods are favouring you. I feel it in my bones. What are you looking for, Kasha?” Aranus looked at Kassius in the eye. “What can I tell you that you need to know?”

  “Grandfather... Alana and I...”

  “Are you getting married?”

  “Yes. I mean. No... But we have to pretend...”

  “Kasha! Don't waste more time,” Alana said. “Tell him what we need to talk about.” The blonde girl’s face was as red as an apple.

  “Fine.” Kassius cleared his throat. “Yes, so...”

  Alana interrupted Kassius' speech and sat in front of him. She was eager to ask.

  “I was with the women who were captured this morning,” she said. “I heard you talk about the Sword of Ares, and of the Sun of Ares. That it is coming. We want to find the sword.”

  “The sword...” Aranus' eyes opened wide.

  “Yes!” Kassius said. “Where can we find it?”

  “The sword...” Aranus’ mind wandered. Myriad images passed through his soul so quickly he could not grasp them. A powerful energy took over his soul, and he spoke. “What once was may return. The fire may burn, and the war for the future will begin in these very woods. Here!” He stated, he shook his head, as the realization had come too quickly.

  He remembered the prophecy. He remembered when he heard the words of the Oracle of Venus fifteen years before. But what was the Goddess fearing? Had it been the massacre of his people? What did those words mean?

  He remembered and he shuddered. It was all coming together, reflecting inescapable destiny.

  “What does it mean? Please, Elder, speak clearly to us,” Alana begged.

  Aranus reached for the girl's pale and cold hand as well as Kassius' calloused fingers. He joined them together.

  “The Sword of Ares is in this land. Our race crossed these woods before its journey. It's secrets permeate this world. What once was has become again, and so it will. If I am correct, it lies in the entrails of the earth. You must find it.”

  The girl shook her head, as if in disbelief.

  Aranus blinked.

  “Kassius. I cannot say any more. My dreams overwhelm me. I am confused. But... Look for the sacred texts and the gates to the entrails of the earth. They have the answer.”

  “Texts?” The girl raised an eyebrow. “Isn't that something Itruschians and Parzhians do? We Gadalians don't text.”

  “You are right,” Aranus said. “But that is precisely our problem. We have forgotten. We have forgotten our origin. We do not even know the gods. Dreams and visions may come to me, but their meaning is foggy, for my knowledge is incomplete. Even the Itruschians, the Mudrayans, they have forgotten who they are. Even the memory of the gods. Our cosmic gods, the legends inherited, sometimes the figures of the gods mix, we do not know which is which, where is the All-father, who is the Rider of the Chariots of the Sky, which of the gods of the legends is the Red Sun, who is the Green Sun?”

  “But what about the texts?” Kassius asked. “Where did they come from? You know Gadalians don’t write. Or they haven’t done it for some time.”

  “These texts were recited to a half-breed, a century ago. They have the record of our forefathers, and the legends thereof. They are written in Hellenian, which you know, I believe.”

  “Where are they?” Kassius asked solemnly.

  “They lie underneath the temple. They will tell you all you need to know. Look for the sacred texts. It is as close as you will get to the answer you are looking for.”

  “Use your clairvoyance! Please.”

  “The gods have called you; of that I have no doubt. Of where the Sword is, I cannot tell.”

  “Tell us about the sword,” Alana said. “Please explain it to us.”

  “What do you want to know?” Aranus muttered.

  Alana had a hand on her face.

  “That means he came here... To Adachia...” she said.

  “I believe so, yes,” Aranus answered. “It was one of the reasons the gods led me to these lands to settle after the war. But make no mistake, that battle was fought all across the land. Down here and up in the sky.”

  “I have heard about it. But… Here? How far should we travel to find it? Elder… What do you see? Are we going to find it? Please ask in visions. Please tell us whether it’s us.”

  Aranus closed his eyes tightly. He prayed to receive clarity. A flash of understanding. But nothing came to him. Nothing clear.

  “I have been moved to say that it will be found. But that is all I know,” he said.

  “Then we have to look for those texts, you say? From the sanctuary?” Kassius raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, in them you shall find the legends and the words.”

  He looked around as a sense of danger overwhelmed him.

  “Kasha. Let’s get back,” Aranus said. “The centurion may wake up at any time.”

  “But grandfather...”

  “Kassius, he is right,” Alana said.

  “Please, my son,” Aranus continued. “If they find out I am out of the house, things may go wrong for you two. And for many more.”

  Kassius dropped to his knees, then lunged forward and hugged his grandfather tightly. He pressed his cheek against his long white hair.

  “I do not want to lose you. This… This has to stop.”

  “Be calm,” Aranus held his hand onto his grandso
n’s armoured back. “The gods know the path. They have preserved both of you. Now, you must stand together. As brave as you have been, you must remain.”

  “Grandfather… Please, stay with us.”

  Kassius shut his eyes, holding the tears. He released his grandfather and stood up, helping him to his feet.

  “I may see you later. But now, it is dangerous!” Aranus said. Then, he faced Alana again. “And you, brave girl. You remind me of your mother.”

  “My mother?” Alana asked.

  “Yes. Ileria, how can I forget her? She was a great warrior.”

  Alana sighed.

  “That’s one of the reasons my father doesn’t like to talk about her,” Alana said, opening her eyes wide.

  “He loved her with all his soul,” Aranus said.

  “I bet he did. He can’t even get himself to talk about it. He hasn’t gone over it even after fifteen years.”

  The girl’s eyes shifted away from him in a sudden burst of sadness. Aranus could be sure Alan had also died the day before.

  “She would be proud of you both. They both would.”

  “So did you know my mother well?” Alana raised her head, then wiped the tears on her cheeks.

  “Of course I did. I joined them in marriage. I blessed you when you were born. I officiated your mother’s funeral.”

  “You buried her weapons?”

  “I did?”

  “W-what was her favourite?”

  “She fought even after marriage, which is unusual, leading a company of mounted lancers. Her circumstances were special. But she liked swords. She preferred to wield two lunar blades Alan had made for her.”

  “I heard that, that she was still fighting before she had me,” Alana said with a melancholic smile. “So a lunar blade, that means he made a dragonblade for himself, and a lunar blade for her.”

  “Yes.” Aranus sighed. He looked at the sky through the trees, and the forest below. The sun would come out shortly. “Well, it’s been a pleasure to see you. Let us not waste more time.”

  “Let’s go,” Kassius said, he put the helmet on and walked into the forest, and Alana followed them closely. Kassius guided Aranus up, and as they walked closer to the village, Aranus noticed the half-naked guard lying between the bushes.