Alvor awoke from his stupor as a body came crashing into his own. Fear gripping his mind, he looked down to see Makael’s wide, beautifully colorful eyes filled with fear. Seeing something behind those eyes, he grabbed the newcomer’s wrist and looked back at Graiscon, just in time to see his mentee- his friend, his brother- disappear behind a wall of falling stone.

Not giving himself time, nor believing what he saw, he ran, Makael in tow. He ran from the tunnel and out into the main junction of the mines. More developed and supported by steel beams and Ironwood pillars. The sounds of other tunnels crumbling and clouds of dust billowing from them seemed to fill the junction miners covered in dust, guards walking around counting.

A whisper came from his side, startling Alvor.

“Why did he do that?” Makael sniffled.

Alvor turned to look at Makael. The child seemed to have avoided all the stone dust that had almost swallowed the two of them. If anything, the boy seemed cleaner. His hair had been swept back from running, and what tears he wiped away helped clean quite a bit of dirt from his face. His eyes shone in the light of all the lamps, a kaleidoscope of every color imaginable.

<<>>

Graiscon awoke on a cold stone floor. With no idea of how long he’d been out, he looked to take in his surroundings. Despite a lack of any visible light source, he was surprised to find he could see the floor around him. He was in some kind of massive cavern. The ceiling wasn’t in sight and the boy couldn’t see how far or wide the cavern was. Though as he stood staring into the infinite darkness, a shiver ran through his body as he began to register the coldness in the air.

“What the hells happened?” Graiscon, more confused than ever, stood up.

Strangely enough, he was dry, as were his clothes. There was no sign of any kind of liquid he could see. He checked himself for injuries but found that he was perfectly fine, despite the certainty that he hit his head.

Without knowing how he was going to get out, he started to wander into the cavern. Perhaps minutes, or maybe hours, went by before he saw a pinprick of light against the dark background of this massive cave. With nothing to lose and nowhere to go, he decided to follow it.

No point not to.

As he got closer, Graiscon could make out a few irregularities in the floor. An outcropping of towering stones that were jagged against the smooth floor. Closer yet, he found that the glow was coming from a massive stone in the middle of the cavern.

What is that?

As he got closer to the stone, not only did he find what was producing the dull light, but he saw the stone looked like the skull of some massive creature. Only part of it showed above the surface of the floor. But the clear and abrupt change of material clearly suggested that whatever this was it was much bigger than he could see, and what he could see was already the size of a small house.

Returning his attention to the glowing light, he began to climb the skull and found what looked like the handle of a sword sticking out of the fossil. Its blade was embedded up to the guard, which was minimal at best.

How the fuck is the wood the best-looking part of this sword? How long has it been down here?

He grabbed the handle and playfully tugged at the sword to see if he could pull it out. After nothing happened, he wiggled it a little bit, though it didn’t move, and tried again. After the thought, he felt something move and his mood brightened for the first time that day, or was it night?

Come on, I can do this.

He jumped around and loosened his arms, prepared to take this attempt seriously. He gripped the hilt as close to the blade as he could. As he began to pull a shiver ran from the small of his back down his arms. A searing pain ran over his arms and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw silver glowing lines spider-web down his arms, beneath his sleeves.

The glow continued from his hands into the sword as he pulled with everything he had. The glow ran down the sword to the blade and almost like one of the terrifying crashes of thunder from the earlier storm, whatever energy was being held in the blade released, splitting open the skull and freeing the sword from its prison. Consequently, the sudden lack of resistance tossed Graiscon from the skull and he fell to the stone floor below.

The boy stood up gingerly, the sword still in his hands.

“Hah! Yes! Fuck you, you stupid beast!” He yelped in celebration, thrusting his prize into the air. But his celebration was short-lived.

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Suddenly, Graiscon was again aware of the searing pain in his arms and his back. He was greeted by a splitting headache, and a rush of whatever rations were still in his body ended up on the floor.

Graiscon rolled around on the floor for hours. The headache had gone away first, but the pain in his arms lasted far longer than any pain he’d ever been in. When it finally began to lessen, Graiscon could only think that the cause had to do with whatever strange power had come from him. The headache didn’t make any sense to him, but with the pain subsiding, he found that it followed the same paths that the marks on his arms took. Easily enough, he put two and two together and swore never to do whatever it was that he did.

Not that I know how I did it.

Looking back at the sword he’d won. The ward noticed the entire blade gave off a decidedly brighter glow than before. Getting closer, he tapped the hilt as if it were a hot pan. When the markings under his sleeves didn’t start glowing, he relaxed and picked the strange sword up to get a better look.

Graiscon found, to his disappointment, that the sword wasn’t really a sword at all. With the blade being no longer than ten inches with a single edge, it was just a seax, more akin to a hunting knife than a sword.

The blade itself was beautiful, with a subtle curve, and the spine sloping to the edge in the last fourth of the blade. It was made of black steel with a mottling of a bronze color in a pattern that looked like oil in water. Upon closer inspection, the wood of the handle scales was polished and perfectly preserved. The knife was finished with a group of strange runes, The runes were intricately etched into the base of the blade, that seemed to be the source of the soft, ethereal glow.

“Who would just leave a beautiful knife like this down here?” Graiscon said as he tested the weight, swinging the seax as if he’d practiced for many years, which he hadn’t.

Graiscon had never fought with a seax like this before. His father kept a sword around, but it hadn’t been used for years until his sister ran away…

The boy shook his head, trying to think of something else. He looked around at all the strange stones sticking from the cavern floor, which he assumed were also part of whatever creature the skull belonged to. Making up his mind, the young man stuffed the dagger into his belt. He set off to climb the skull again.

“Are you kidding?” Graiscon whispered after he reached the top.

Despite feeling like he’d blasted the skull to pieces there wasn’t a single mark of the fossil, except the hole where the knife had been stuck.

“What in the hell are you made out of?” Graiscon crouched down to inspect the material but ultimately decided he wouldn’t find anything.

Pulling the blade back out, he held it high above him to try and get as much out of its light as he could. To his amazement, it worked quite well as it illuminated, although dimly, a large area around the skull.

Before him, his suspicions were confirmed as the field of massive stones was the long-dead bones of some giant beast.

“Gods, you had to have been bigger than a city.” His voice trailed off into the cavern’s silence.

As he looked out over the beast’s immense size, he felt something pull on him. It was small, but enough to get Graiscon’s attention. He stood still for a moment, trying to pinpoint this feeling. With some time, he realized it was the seax itself. With nothing else to do, and curiosity grabbing hold of him, Graiscon clambered back down the skull and allowed the dagger to guide him.

Though the field of bones wasn’t dense by any means, the sheer size made judging how far he’d have to go difficult. All the while, the massive bones loomed above. Twisting and turning through the field, the boy was no longer sure if he could find his way back to the skull.

Graiscon thought he’d be walking forever, perhaps the blade was taking him out of the cavern. Perhaps it was just pulling him nowhere. It wasn’t until he turned around a particularly tall rib that his questions were answered. Only for more questions to rise in his mind.

The dagger had led the ward to what looked like an ancient corpse. Though all that was left were bones, the person’s clothing was perfectly preserved. It wore a strange, padded, and quilted, knee-length coat of a rich blue trimmed in black. Its right hand wore a strange leather glove and a fine white tunic peeked out from the coat with black trousers below. Intricate boots covered the old skeleton’s feet and a belt over its waist held a sheath shaped perfectly for the seax in Graiscon’s hand.

He looked over the skeleton and began to remove its long-forgotten items. As he pulled the tunic over his head, he found it smelled like fresh soap. A welcome surprise in the bland underground pit he stood in. The rest of the clothes smelled equally of fresh cleaning and he found that each item fit him perfectly. As the ward slid the coat over his shoulders, he felt a perfect and comfortable warmth spread over him.

Graiscon found that the coat had a hood and several pockets, many on the inside and one over each of his thighs. In his right, outside pocket he found a collection of beautifully crafted wooden tablets. Each was carved with a complicated system of runes on one side, and a single, unique rune on the other. While the tablets themselves were a pale white color, the runes were inset and detailed in black.

He found several other trinkets in other pockets; a few strange sticks, and a small codex of fine parchment. One pocket, he found, held a pouch full of more than a hundred gold coins. Graiscon’s eyes lit up as he opened the undeniable treasure trove, and he quickly poured the bag out to count its contents. Though he had no idea of the actual worth of the coins, he found there to be two hundred and ten of them. With this, the boy had no doubt he could pay off both his and Alvor’s debts. Perhaps even more if these coins were worth that much.

The coin pouch stuffed securely in one of the coat’s inner pockets, Graiscon moved onto the boots that he had yet to put on. They were far more intricate than the simple wrapped boots that he wore. The actual latch on these boots was very simple and intuitive. He pulled a strap of leather around his ankle and pulled it to the tightest comfortable notch as if it were a small belt. The actual belt was equally simple and he tied off the excess around itself.

The knife slid neatly into the sheath that now sat below the small of his back. The edge of the blade facing upward, and the hilt sat snugly in the leather sheath.

“Thank you, friend, for these gifts that you’ve left behind.” With that, Graiscon pulled the hood over his head and began to make his way outside of the field of bones. With no real direction, he just walked.