The sand began to blur into endless white. It was almost blinding so Ripley covered his eyes with his hands. Praying that he did not fall and get lost as he let go. The air grew cold which probably meant they had arrived. Lowering his hands he saw darkness but as his eyes adjusted he began to see more. Grey sand and infinite skies full of stars he had never seen before. It was a desert but a different one from the White One.
As the horse galloped without touching the ground structures began to surface in the distance. They looked familiar. He was almost certain that these were the same pyramids he had seen in the vision the Rider had shown him.
“We have arrived.” The Black Rider said.
The horse had landed in the front yard of the pyramids. There was no garden, only some ruin half buried in the sand. Ripley walked inspecting the ruins. One arm of a statue, that looked familiar emerged from the sand.
“This is where it all happened? This is your home, isn’t it?”
“It all happened a long time ago. It’s been five hundred years since that day.”
Ripley looks at him, taken aback.
“Five hundred?”
“I no longer have a home or a name.” the Rider says.” That man died that day.”
“What about the people?”
“They were all wiped out, by Arayoch’s demons.”
“I’m sorry.”
The pain of no longer having a home to return to, not having a country. They were the last of their kind. Ripley knew that the Rider was possibly the only person who could understand him.
“This not why I brought you here,” The Rider says.
He climbs off his horse and begins to talk towards the middle pyramid. Ripley follows. It is dark inside but the Rider conjures some blue lights that guide their way. The hallways twist and turn.
“This was a temple once.” The Rider says.
There are carvings on the walls, rituals, sacrifices, and celebrations. The images look eerie in the dim ghostly light. They reach a large chamber with stairs going up and rows of pillars. At the back of the room is what remains of an altar behind it is a strange-looking circular object. The middle is empty, its arch of it is decorated with symbols and lines. Dim moonlight is coming down through the upper floors. The Rider leads him to the altar and points to something on it.
Ripley now notices the sword lying on it. It’s broken. The blade is broken halfway. The hilt looks clean as if it was new. Unseen symbols, silvery-like smoke on the blade.
“Touch it.” Says the Rider.
Ripley wonders what use has a broken blade but he trusts the Rider. He was never a good swordsman, no matter how much he trained in his younger days. Books, mathematics, crafting, and mechanics were his strengths. Both hands holding the hilt he picks it up. Looks at the Rider, wordlessly asking what comes next. It’s as if a wind has blown from the blade. He feels cold wash over him.
“Who dares awaken me from my slumber?” A voice roars in his head and Ripley nearly drops it in surprise.
“My name is Ripley.” He says out loud, uncertain of what is going on.
Images run through his head. His home. The days at the Academy with his friends. Stella. The plague, the dreams, the death and destruction of his world. An evil voice echoes in his head, laughing.
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“You seek revenge against Arayoch!”
“Yes.”
The voice laughs again.
“Then we have something in common. I have a twin. There used to be two of us. Two Black Blades. We had many masters and many names. Arayoch was our previous master.”
Ripley looks at the broken blade as if he is seeing it for the first time.
“Arayoch was your master?”
“Yes. Before he was the almighty god of demons, Arayoch was just a man. He was a king of a dying people whose acts were so perverse and debauched that even the gods abandoned them. Arayoch saw this as an injustice to his people. So he went in search of power to take his vengeance on the gods. And so he found us. We fought many battles alongside him. We helped him achieve all he is. And once he became great and powerful he shattered us and scattered the pieces in a rift of time and space. For he fears that power he had acquired in us would be used against him.”
Ripley was breathing rapidly. Thoughts rushed through his mind. He felt a rush of hope.
“Arayoch fears you? “
“Yes.” The Rider speaks up. “He fears his old weapons would be used against him. They are the only thing that could kill him.”
“Then we must repair them.”
“It’s not that simple.” The Rider says. “ The pieces of the blades are scattered throughout many different worlds. Arayoch made sure they would not be easy to find or obtain. I have been searching for them. This all I have managed to gather.” He motions to the blade.
The Rider had said he had been alive for five hundred years. Ripley feels his newfound hope waver.
“I don’t know if I’ll be of much use.”
The Rider shakes his head.
“You are the only one who can do it now. I am no longer human thus I am unfit to be their wielder. There are places I cannot go because of what I am.”
“What are you?” Ripley asks.
He knew the Rider was more than human.
“What you see before you.” He says.” My body is long dead.”
Ripley looks at the black armor. He imagines it empty on the inside. A spirit just like his, which somehow clings to life and defies death but instead of a human body – a suit of armor.
“How am I any different then? I died.”
“You have a soul.” The Rider says. “ To make a pact with the Black Blades one must have a soul.”
Ripley looks back at the sword.
“They are considered cursed.” The Rider says.” The Black Blades.”
“How are they cursed?”
“The wielder will obtain unimaginable power.” He continues.” But that power comes at a cost.”
“If I have to offer up my soul then so be it,” Ripley says.
The Rider laughs and so does the voice of the blade.
“Marvelous.” Says the Rider. “ There is one thing you must know. The power of the blade is determined by its master.”
“Then I am no good.” Ripley bows his head.” I am not a strong man. I’m not a warrior.”
The sword speaks up inside his head.
“A name that gives me power. Before I used to be called Boneash and my brother was known as Stormbringer. Those were the names Arayoch gave us. That was our power.”
“A name? If that’s all I have to do to claim you, then I have a great one for you.” Ripley smirks. “Henceforth you shall be known as Godslayer.”
The sword laughs. Ripley feels it vibrate in his hands as the wind blows his hair.
“Very well.” The blade says.” Although there is little I can do in this state.”
“I swear that I will do all that I can to make you whole again.”
Ripley feels almost certain of his victory. The image of his friend betraying him, a dark-winged shadow in the flames behind him. The same figure he had seen in his dreams. Cities burning. The white flash of light ended everything. It was all because of Arayoch. The Mad God had ruined his life, turned his friends against him, and destroyed his world. And now he knew he was not alone. Arayoch’s evil had destroyed many lives and many worlds. He would avenge all of them. Killing Arayoch and ending his reign of terror is justice, and it would be carried out by his hand. Ripley felt his hands tremble. Excitement gripped him. He put the blade down on the altar and turned to the Rider once more. The dark armored figure moved towards the circular arch.
“This was once a gateway.” He says. “It had stopped working before my time. It could take you to many worlds, far beyond this one. Further than even the White Desert can reach. There were records in the library about travel through it. But I’ve never managed to figure out how it worked.”
“I see. I’m not a magician. Such things never existed in my world. But there are a few things I would like to try. With this gate, we could search for the sword pieces.”
“Yes. That was my hope.” The Rider says.
“Are there any records still left?”
“It’s hard to say. The lower levels are buried.”
“I will need things from my workshop,” Ripley says. “Any information on it would also be of great help.
He felt hopeful. Finally, he had the means to fight. Finally, he could do something about all this. While he still needed to refine his guns, the possibility of magic was intriguing. In his world magic didn’t exist, but there were many worlds out there that had it. He wondered if it was something he could learn, or at least gain an understanding of it, in case he had to face enemies capable of using it. Arayoch had seemed like an invincible foe before but now that Ripley knew he had a weakness he was more determined than ever. So what if it cost him his humanity? There was no price too small or too big to bring down the Mad God.