Morey frowned as he watched the ruins. First Landing was positively crawling with people.
He had not had the chance to inspect the ruined city the first time he was here. Right after the summoning's disaster, Amarante and her entourage had bundled him off to the capital.
The broken down towers and weeds popping up in the cracked streets reminded Morey of post-apocalyptic art. Drainage along the roads with broken covers had turned into streams, their banks colonized with hardy plant life. Open gaps where windows used to be dotted the surface of each of the towers.
Skyscrapers, Morey could recognize them, though the locals had no idea. Like the secure document room, the scope of a civilization that not only could build but also needed that level of population density or working places was beyond imagining.
On the other hand, when the First civilization fell, the buildings left here would become a hazard without the expertise needed to maintain them. Streets had been blocked by collapsed towers, the surrounding ex-suburban land was bad for farming, the stone-like paved roads reduced water retention. No wonder this place had become abandoned ruins.
There were differences to Earth's cities however. The primary building material appeared to be shaped and fused stone, not concrete. Weathered edifices of rock made each building seem like individual hollowed out mountains. The stone was light and strong, not like the normal rocks, resisting both crushing and tearing forces. And instead of shallow basements, the First dug deep into the ground.
Morey's summoning had taken place in the chamber known as the Gate, as described by the First. Set into the most intact building remaining and in a central location, the place made for an obvious command center.
And the Hero needed one.
The arrival of the Hero and Companions spread through the supposedly abandoned city like wildfire. The searchers, questers and parties who had all descended on the place flocked to him. It was to Morey's annoyance to discover he had new titles now, beyond the ever popular Hero. Freedom's Torch wasn't too bad, but he really did not deserve Zombie Crusher, and Smasher of Forts really belonged to Ereli.
Word of the location of the Legendary Sword had resulted in a rush like nothing before, all wanting to be the one to find it. None had in the month or so between the news and Morey's arrival. So now they turned to the Hero, the one foretold to discover the Sword.
"It's interesting, these stones," Morey said, turning over a piece of broken building.
The few adventurers gathered to follow the Hero just looked at each other uncertainly. Beside him, Ereli was in her starry-eyed mode, the same hero-worshipping attitude she displayed whenever Morey looked like he was about to do something strange and 'hero-like'.
"Sir Hero, what are your commands?" asked one of the party leaders. The non-sequitur had made the atmosphere awkward, but none of them wanted to defy the Hero.
Morey just fiddled with his rock and smiled, "there have been over a thousand adventurers combing these ruins more thoroughly than any archeological expedition in the last months. You have not found any trace of the Sword. There are no mysterious passwords, hidden passages or even any magic. You'd have found it after all. "
The adventurers' unease merely became greater.
"So, there's nothing I can do that you haven't done," the Hero said wryly, spreading his arms.
"But you're the Hero!" The same party leader blurted out, his impatience getting the better of him.
"And what can the Hero do that you cannot?" Morey shrugged, gesturing with his hand. The eyes of the watching adventurers were drawn to the rock still in his grasp.
But though they heard his words, they did not listen. After all, he was the Hero, said to find the Sword.
"Still, now you come to me to ask what I should tell you to do," Morey sighed dramatically, "very well. The Sword is in this city and if we do not have any clues, we simply have to do one thing. "
He paused, looking at each of the party leaders.
"Every rock, every wall. Anything that human hands have touched, we take it. Strip the city to the bedrock and we will find the Sword. "
The storm of protests was furious as expected. Moving that much stone was impossible, not matter how light the building material of the First was, it was still stone. The ruins of First Landing was also far larger than any current city.
The amount of manpower required to do this was beyond anything that the parties could afford. Even with a thousand strong adventurers working at it, they could take years to fully dismantle the ruins.
Morey merely let their objections wash over him, fiddling with the rock in his hands as he met their protests with a serene confidence.
"And what if I told you that this rock is worth quite a bit of money," Morey said, dumping the piece of building material in the hands of the nearest adventurer.
The woman looked down at it, frowning.
"It's a rock," she said eventually, "a light one, but you can't shape it to build new buildings. "
"Yes, but we do know that rock is not light, and if it was made thin, cannot support weight like the buildings do. This is not a normal rock," Morey gestured Ereli, who had been standing in a corner. She trotted up to him and obediently placed a jar in his hands.
The clear glass let everyone see its contents, courtesy of the new factory in the Ektal capital. The pile of metallic shavings inside looked almost like powder, but on closer examination, revealed themselves to be thin filaments.
"This is the result of a great amount of ingenuity on the part of the University of Minmay," Morey explained. "I had a sample of the material sent to them beforehand and the results are surprising. When placed into a magically heated furnace that can melt rock, the material separates into two parts, one is the molten rock, the part left behind is this," he gestured at the jar, "and that is the secret as to why the stone can be made so porous and yet so strong. That... is crysteel.
The filings cannot be forged by themselves, but when added to cast steel creates the strongest material we can yet make. And the one key ingredient is all around us. "
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Work proceeded rapidly after that. With Morey to organize the 'mining' operations, and smooth over logistical issues with his Hero title, the ruins were being dismantled at a great pace.
Though many of the adventurers had left, their numbers were replaced with construction crews to dismantle buildings and ironworkers to manage the magic powered furnaces. The prodigious requirements of magic resulted in mana wells being drilled all along the outskirts.
It took months. Buildings were knocked down with great care and the rubble fed to the furnaces' hungry maw. Furnaces controlled by summoners and spellstorms were raised hastily, exporting precious filings of crysteel. As the shorter buildings around the edge of the city were consumed, the operations moved inward.
When starting his harvesting operation, Morey had not directed any sort of search pattern. The closest buildings were the first to go. But as time went on and the profitable operation became self-managing, Morey led teams into the center of the city, guessing which of the skyscrapers looked important enough to house a superweapon.
In hindsight, the clues were obvious. The Summoning Circle was suspected to be the Gate, the time capsule records indicated the 'link' to the Sword was at the Gate.
Morey never did find out how no one ever thought of dismantling the building with the Summoning Circle until he had demolished over fifty buildings around it and finally got around to digging up the Gate.
They uncovered a sealed shaft concealed below a smooth floor near the summoning room, itself at the bottom of the six storeys deep basement of its building. This shaft, though lined with crysteel, had been plugged with solid building material through its entire length. The shaft had led somewhere once, but the First had later sealed it beyond reason.
And down it went into the earth. The drilling and digging operation was helped by the straight open shaft, but the tough material was like rock and required powered tools to remove in any reasonable time.
As they breached half a kilometer depth, scholars began to arrive. The University sent a delegation. The Academy, learning of their rival's actions, sent their own. The closest ruins to the Summoning Circle had turned into a semi-permanent camp as people waited for the breakthrough.
So it was to much excitement when the bottom of the shaft was reached. There, only a single empty crysteel chamber lay at the bottom, with tiny runes carved so densely into the walls that from afar, they looked like a twisting random pattern. The runes were almost microscopic, requiring magnifying lenses to make out individual lines, and there were millions of them all over the walls.
It was not the language of the First. Instead, the crysteel runes were the same language that made up the summoning circle. No one could read it.
The disappointment of the scholars was palpable. There was, in fact, no Sword, down there.
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Morey examined the sheafs of runes on the table. Meticulous copies of the runes were being made and transported up by rotating teams of scholars. Or their apprentices at least. The actual scholars were trying to piece together the language or the function of the room. Morey had decided to take a look just in case being a Hero made him specially able to decipher it. No such luck.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Here, the copies of the runes were stored in a tent just across the street from the Gate building. Once a day, the latest batch of copies were brought here to be filed and stored, sheltered from the rest of the demolition work going on around them.
Outside the library tent, the sounds of demolishing and deconstruction continued unabated. After overlooking the shaft next to the Gate, Morey was not going to take the risk of further embarrassment if the Sword was in fact somewhere else. There was still a distinct lack of mysterious ruins or sharp pointy sticks however.
The rustling of the tent flaps drew Morey's attention away from the runes.
"Ah, Nal, did you need something?"
The short spellstorm standing at the entrance to the tent just looked awkward.
"You found the Sword. " She said eventually.
Oh. They were going to have a Moment, weren't they? Morey strode three steps to the entrance and stuck his head outside. The bustle of people and rekis dragging carts down the street did not hide Ereli who was standing guard over the tent. She gave him a thumbs up and a cheeky grin.
Morey shook his head and came back in, only to find Nal trying to burn a hole in the floor with her eyes.
"Are you going to go home?" she asked, still not willing to meet his eyes.
Morey gulped. To be frank, he didn't really know what to say. He hadn't made up his mind whether he wanted to stay if he had the option of returning to his life on Earth.
He sat back on his chair. Nal had been circling him ever since they found the shaft to the Sword, and Morey still hadn't answered her pledge from Illastein. It made him feel bad for stringing her along. Was she now asking him to make his decision? Though Morey was sure she would continue to wait if he asked her to.
One part of him was tempted to say yes. Being a Hero had got Morey into many dangerous situations, he had to fight, he had to kill. And even the greatest rewards that Morey could have asked for would pale beside a modern middle class living. Cato's efforts in the north might get there eventually, but to get the same comforts as modern Earth would be the work of generations.
On the other hand, being a Hero gave Morey respect. Unearned in most cases, true, but Morey had to admit that having that respect felt nice. Plus not all of it was undeserving, Morey had made a difference for the slaves of Illastein.
And there was the matter of Nal. She might be short and cute but the fiery girl had passion all out of size of her body. It was very flattering that she was attracted to him so strongly. Morey might not feel the same level of attraction, but he thought spending a life with her would not be unpleasant.
Should he just don the mantle of the Hero, save the kingdom and marry the girl?
He glanced down at the papers stacked around the tent. Nal was still fidgeting. The runes seemed to taunt him, the last secret of the Hero's Legend that was sealed behind a language barrier. A Sword that could both return him and destroy mankind's enemies.
It made no sense, a weapon of mass destruction that Morey suspected it was could not possibly send someone between universes, unless its destructive potential was a side effect of inter-universe transport? That might be a thought worth considering.
Or perhaps he could have his cake and eat it.
The warning given to people who wanted to follow the First in their Migration was that the Gate led elsewhere. Maybe to hostile worlds. The implied out-of-universe Migration implied that it was possible to send large numbers of people through. Why would the Sword or the Gate only send Morey back? It was more plausible that the Summoning Circle in its current form was something like a search engine built on top of a transport mechanism.
Wasn't it conceivable that if they could understand how the Sword worked, understand how Morey and Cato were summoned, then they could send people to and fro?
As the Hero, Morey wielded enormous influence in the Inath Federation. Growing up on Earth, he understood his world and how to approach it.
And just like that, it clicked. This was something Morey could do, a path he could dedicate himself to, if it was possible.
"Nal," he ignored the way her shoulders jumped nervously, "if I was to find a way home, I will find a way to make sure you can come. If we can open a Gate to my world using the Sword, then we can do far more than just let me go home. Being a diplomat sounds like a fine job for a retired Hero, don't you think?"
The flicker of incomprehension that passed across her face was overwhelmed with surprise a moment later.
"And of course, I'd love to have a cute and deadly girl like you with me," he smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
Nal merely frowned however, "but what if that's not possible? What if the Sword really can only send the Hero home?"
"I don't think so, but we'll cross that bridge if it happens. "
With that, Nal seemed to be convinced. She hesitantly gave Morey a small hug. On his arm.
They stood like that for a moment.
"What does 'cross the bridge' mean?"
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The queen's arrival was not quite a surprise but still too fast to really make preparations. All the girls except Locoss managed to find some presentable clothing and pretty up the Hero's tent, and the camp of builders and adventurers was cleaner than it had been in its short life of a few months. But Morey just felt somewhat lost, no one really knew where Morey stood in relation to Queen Amarante.
They hadn't believed him when Morey said that the queen didn't really care about these formalities. Even Locoss refused to participate on the grounds that she was not presentable due to her disability.
He almost felt like saying 'told you so' when the queen and leader of the Inath Federation arrived with zero fanfare. Just her escort and a few servants, plus the hulking shadow of her general.
"Sir Morey," the queen gave an elegant bow, if appropriately shallow, "I offer my congratulations at your find, none could have done this save the Hero. I hope that your journey is soon at its end and humanity's deliverance at hand. It is now that I shall explain further the circumstances behind the Sword and my confidence in you. "
The Hero's party, as the four girls were being called now, were seated behind Morey, who sat across from the long meeting table to the Queen. At her right was General Vorril, looking slightly bored. No one else was allowed into the tent.
The Queen smiled and nodded casually at Nal as the diminutive woman served her a cup of tea before pouring a cup for Morey and taking a seat beside him.
"I am sure that throughout your journey you would have had doubts. And to be frank, so did I. There was a time in your reform of Illastein that I had thought my interpretations of the legends were in error and that you wouldn't find the Sword. But your find of the cache there and now what is most likely the Sword has validated the prophecy. I am certain you are the Hero, as only the Hero would find the Sword. "
Morey politely refrained from commenting. The backwards criteria was obviously flawed but the queen was quite the lover of old stories and Morey wouldn't be able to discourage her belief in prophecies and legends.
"There is one story that I did not tell you. Passed down the royal line of Inath from the troubled days before the Migration, this legend is known to the successors of the throne and those they deem fit to tell. It is said that the Royal Line of Inath descends from the Forgers of the Circle, all the way back to the Hero Legan who claimed this land for humans. And when the Hero returns from beyond this world, he will need our seal in order to save the kingdom. "
The queen produced a slim leather box from a hidden pocket in her dress. Laying it open on the table, Morey could see a black rod lying in the soft velvet padding. It was a jet black cylinder no more than a handspan tall, about as wide as two fingers. For an artifact that supposed survived since the dawn of time, it was in excellent shape.
The perfectly smooth surface was marred only by twisting lines of runes carved into the sides. The size and density of them reminded Morey of a certain troublesome chamber deep underground.
"The seal of the monarchy is a mysterious thing. The legend of our line mentions that it was forged before the Great Wars, as a symbol of authority and power, meant to remind the ruler of the Kingdom of the weight of their responsibility. Though the Seal of Office is said to be the key to the Sword of the First, its function has been lost over time.
And hence why I will now turn this over to you. When I had thought the Sword was an actual sword, I wondered if I had to awake its power by touching the seal to it. But given the revelation of the Sword's identity at the cache, I suspect now that this seal, in your hands, will be the key to awakening the Sword as a weapon once more. "
With that, Amarante pushed the box containing the Inath seal of office to Morey.
Morey looked down at the small black rod, feeling as if the weight of the world was now held in front of him. The Sword was a superweapon that could blow apart mountains. If her story was right, and the runes looked really authentic, this rod was analogous to the launch keys of a nuclear weapon.
He wasn't even annoyed that Amarante had kept this from Morey. He wouldn't tell a Hero either if he was in her shoes.
"Shall we head down then?" he asked, getting an enthusiastic nod from the queen. As if she was on a tour of a fascinating historical museum, instead of approaching a weapon of mass destruction.
As the girls and Vorril left the tent first, Amarante brushed past Morey and whispered with a mischievous grin, "I'm willing to release Nal from her oaths, if she asks. I wish you both all the best. "
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"I still think you were lucky. There was no guarantee they would have established a relationship. Did you do something?"
Amarante looked up at her husband. She could feel an irreverent grin on her face that would have made her etiquette teachers faint in horror.
"I didn't need to do anything," she said, looking at Morey and the Hero's party walk together. The girls orbited the man in the middle, even though he obviously favoured the spellstorm.
"The girls are young, pretty, have interesting personalities and are motivated and intelligent. Morey is the Hero, a nice person and if I may put it crudely, not bad looking either. They go off on years long adventures all over the Federation, fight together in exciting battles and do a task valued by nearly everyone who they meet. A relationship with one of them was practically inevitable, I just picked varied personalities so that one of the girls would be a good fit. "
Vorril just grunted, "and if your bet failed?"
She just shrugged, "you can't win all the time. But I do know that when the Hero first came to this world, he was confused and lost. Just like anyone else would be in this unfamiliar country fighting an unknown war. He needed people who he could trust, so I was prepared to give him exactly that. I like to think I am good at figuring out what people want. "
"It's one of the reasons the Federation still sticks together," Vorril noted.
Amarante giggled and skipped forwards. Her actions might seem too childish for the queen of Inath but her dream of seeing the Hero's Sword would soon be fulfilled! Anyone would be in high spirits, her husband was just too straight laced to really understand.
The Hero's party and the queen entered the Summoning building. In the open shaft, an elevator had been installed. Driven by a steam engine, the relatively new device was one of the proud achievements of Minmay's technical prowess, and actually surprisingly reliable for a new invention. That said, given the august bodies riding in it today, the safety checks were done in triplicate and an engineer was on standby at every part of the device.
The shaft into the earth emphasized to Amarante just how seriously the First treated the Sword. Any weapon that could erase entire mountains and cities, redrawing maps, was a power beyond what humans could wield. If they wanted to stay safe of course.
She still did not understand how anyone could comprehend the icy logic of mutually assured destruction and stay sane. Morey had explained the Cold War that had existed in his world. The reduction of lives into numbers, into victories and defeat, where mistakes could spiral out of control into disaster and nearly had multiple times; that was not a path Amarante wanted the Federation to go down.
The First and Tsar had destroyed themselves with their weapons, after all. Individuals might be found that could be trusted with that heavy responsibility of deciding when to use such weapons. But never everyone, someone would be crazy enough to use one. No, humans could not be trusted with this power.
So Amarante had made sure the Hero who would wield it was not crazy. That he wasn't alone in this world without anyone to understand him. That he had seen the Federation in all its flaws and greatness, and had ties to its people, so he wouldn't be tempted into using the Sword as a threat to all the rest of mankind.
That the Hero actually understood the concept of a superweapon better than anyone else in Inath was just a welcome bonus.
Her musings came to an end as the elevator reached the bottom of the shaft. They all piled out to the small platform just above the room.
The metal ladder leading downwards into the middle of the room.
And now, here at the end of the Hero's Journey, Amarante and Vorril faced the Hero, two of his party flanking him on each side. She solemnly drew out the seal of the Inath Kingdom.
"I grant this seal to you, Hero of the Kingdom, that you may wield the Sword in the defence of all. "
She presented the open box with the key to the most dangerous weapon in existence lying inside.
With a nod, Morey reached out to take it. The key and the Hero stood in the middle of the room that controlled the Sword.
Nothing happened at all.