The morning sun glared in Leaf’s eyes, prompting a curse from his lips as he emerged from the barn’s doors. At the same time, the Fall air bit at the olive skin of his muscled, exposed arms, though rather than discomfort he found solace within the chill. He’d been moving bales of hay all morning, and the cold helped calm him as he set about the methodical task of getting the wagon ready for departure. A soft hum emanated from the magitek engine under the chassis, accompanied by a soft glow of green as Aether circulated through the device, keeping it levitated just above the ground. Leaf reached for the crank that sat on the side of the driver’s seat and twisted it, increasing the height of the vehicle until its base was level with his waist.

Bessie stirred at the sudden movement, the Auroc letting out a soft bellow as she shook her fur from her adjusting harness.

“Finally waking up are we?” Leaf asked in a soft voice, “I practically had to drag you here this morning,” He walked up to Bessie’s head and scratched near one of the small horns that protruded from her fur. She grunted and nuzzled against him, which brought a smile to his slight lips.

He adjusted the straps of her harness, making sure it was snug, but not biting against the Auroc’s fur. After confirming that it was firmly attached to the wagon, he stepped away from the vehicle and stretched, giving a satisfied groan as his back popped.

“I should wake up, myself,” he said as he smacked his lips, taking note of the heaviness around his eyes.

He closed them and took in a long, drawn out breath. As air filled his lungs, the world around him shrank, receding to a brief moment of darkness as sound and vision vanished from his senses. All he felt, all he heard was the Core at his center, a dull gathering of red energy that pulsed in tandem with his heartbeat. After repeated practice, finding it was second nature to him. He reached out to it, an effort of will that sparked that gathering of Ether. It washed through him, a profusion of power that brought back the world around him in a snap as he let go of the breath taken at what seemed like ages ago. The heaviness around his eyes vanished, and colors became more vibrant even within the shadowed confines of the barn, and though the glare of the sun became more intense, he did not recoil as he did before. The air was more brisk, but again that did not bother him. His tolerance for such discomfort appeared to increase along with his senses.

His ears, slightly pointed, twitched as they picked up the distant sounds of talking not too far from the barn.

“I can’t believe we’re having to wash these clothes by hand,” said an irritated voice. It was feminine, but lower in tone, her speech more a growl to reflect the mood behind it. He recognized it as Elly’s and snorted to himself.

“Well they did give us a place to stay for the night, the least we could do is follow their requests,” said a brighter voice. It too was more womanly in quality, but was far higher in pitch, and mood from what Leaf’s ears could tell. It was the all too familiar voice of Jahora.

Leaf stepped through the barn’s doors, eyes falling on the farm that lay just outside. Empty fields were the first thing that caught his attention, picked clean from a harvest done prior to their arrival. The soil remained untilled and was weathered flat by wind and rains long past. Their size was far too large to just feed the singular family that resided here, and in the distance he heard the morning clamor of waking animals from within the stable that lay across the field. A simple house lay next to it, fashioned out of wood gathered from the forest that lined the perimeter of the farm. His eyes fell upon the small water pump that jut from the ground just at the edge of the empty land, or rather upon the two women that were near it.

Elly was hunched down, ears far pointer than his twitching as she muttered to herself. Her onyx skin was a stark contrast to her long, silver hair and golden eyes, and her fair features were twisted to a scowl that grew in intensity the more that she worked with the clothes in her hand. She was rinsing them with too much gusto, the rapping against her washing board a rough, tantrum fueled beat that grew more intense with each stroke.

Jahora stood as her total opposite, the smaller woman only coming up to his mid thigh in most instances. There was a slight point to her ears, like his, but they were rounder, and slightly bigger, in comparison. This went for her eyes as well, possessing a rounder, bigger shape and an unusual shade of purple to them. Her blonde hair bobbed in front of them to the rhythm that she set upon her task with. Both women wore robes, but hers were rolled up , the breeches beneath them bunched up past her knee. She stepped and squelched at the clothes beneath her feet, a slight hum parting from her lips as she looked lost in her own world.

Elly grunted, “I swear, I doubt they’d notice if I just snapped my fingers and had this all done in an instant…”

“Well you musn’t do that,” Jahora objected, “it makes the clothes stiff, they say.”

Elly rolled her eyes, “I doubt they could tell the difference,” she raised her hand, flicking her wrist in the usual manner that she casted a minor spell, but paused at the last minute, “Blasted integrity…” She muttered, scrubbing the clothes against the washboard with renewed vigor, “I suspect that she’s making us do this for other, obvious reasons.”

The “she” in question was the woman that was emerging from the house. Even with the enhancements to his vision he could barely make out her face, but he knew her to be a younger woman with brown hair and pretty features that would captivate most village men. She possessed a figure that filled out the simple dress that she wore enough to be eye-catching and carried a small pail with her as she marched towards the stables.

A man emerged from the house, following after her. In his hands were two, much larger pails he hefted with little effort. His arms were less defined, but larger than Leaf’s own and his height was noticeable even from a distance. His plain, but well defined face was still in a calm expression, broken only by the yawn he let out as he followed after the woman. As he set the buckets down the young lady placed a hand on his arm, a gesture of thanks that lingered for just a bit too long.

“I bet there’s something she wouldn’t mind getting stiff,” Leaf said with a grin.

Elly looked up, confused, but followed Leaf’s gaze towards the man and woman. She sighed and rolled her eyes, “A bit hasty to take a fancy to someone, don’t you think?”

Jahora made an uncertain gesture, her steps keeping their cadence on the clothes below her, “I suspect that it is due to present company being the animals that she takes care of, and her parents,” pity spread across her face, “tis not often you have a chance at someone from the outside when you live in an isolated farm like this.”

“All the more reason to not get attached,” the conversation had calmed Elly’s hands. Her eyes were focused on the young woman, who was staring after the man that was walking away from her, “just look at her, poor woman…”

“And for Helbram of all people,” Leaf said, “she’s just setting herself up for disappointment.

The man in question was making his way to them at a slow pace, his yawn audible as he stretched his arms away from him. Helbram ran a hand through his brown hair, its length grown out from the usual short cut style Leaf had associated with him. Despite his relaxed posture, focus never left his eyes, which were a dull blue like the overcast sky that hung above them, and Leaf had come to recognize the tension that sat beneath it all, the readiness to spring into action at any moment. As the rest of the group looked at him, he smiled and gave a wave.

“Morning all,” he said in his usual even-toned voice, “hope it is treating you well.”

“Wonderfully,” Elly said in a dry tone, but she smirked as she looked up at the larger man, “I dare say I could do this for a while more, give you time to sow some seeds, maybe set down some roots.”

Helbram looked at her with confusion, but realization soon settled over him and he snorted, “Were I a more frivolous man I would say you made an enticing proposition, but I would rather not torment Lilian any more with my presence.”

“Lilian is it?” Elly rinsed the clothes in her bucket, “Not Lily like she requested?”

He shook his head, “Tis better this way, I do not want her getting attached.”

“Well it’s a bit late for that,” Leaf scoffed, “the lass would probably follow you out of here if you asked her to.”

Jahora sighed, “Unrequited love, such a pity.”

Helbram held his hands up, a guilty expression on his face, “Let us not dwell on the subject, shall we?” he looked to Leaf, “Is the wagon ready?”

The wolf-haired man pointed back to Bessie, who’s soft furred head poked out from the barn door, “Aye, she’s ready to set off when you are.”

The larger man nodded, “Good, we’ve imposed upon these people for long enough already.”

Elly let the clothes in her hands fall back into her bucket. “Perfect, I was about to go stir crazy.”

Jahora stepped out of her bucket, waving a hand over her wet feet before placing them in her shoes. A soft breeze dried her toes, originating from the small green glyph that formed at her palm, “Likewise, I’m eager to be back on the road.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Clean up was swift now that the group was moving with a purpose. Elly, for all of her irritation, washed the rest of the clothes without the use of magic with Jahora assisting best she could in the endeavor, and soon the two women wrapped up their task and marched back to the barn. Helbram made his way into the barn and climbed into the wagon. Leaf presumed it to take inventory, like the man always did every week, and he moved to help his companion. He stopped for a moment when he noticed the farmgirl in the distance, back at the stables, but still staring at the barn. Even from this distance, he could sense her longing.

He clicked his teeth, “Poor lass…”

___

Leaf took in another breath, feeling his senses fade away once again as he focused on his Core. It was brighter this time, an effect of channeling his Ether throughout his body for the entire day. Like before, it pulsed with the beat of his heart, a steady thump that suffused the internal energy to the rest of his body. Were he still out and about, he would have let the sensation continue, allowing that energy to strengthen and enhance his senses as well as his body. For now, he had other intentions.

With an effort of will, he stilled the pulsing of his Core and focused. His heart beat remained, and with each thump he felt his Core start to react, ready to release energy it held. He contained it, willing the Ether to remain within its Core. He felt a thud, a sensation that caused him to wince as he felt an ethereal fist strike right below his chest. Fire followed, a phantom flame that burned around his Core as it started to strain under the pressure from its unreleased Ether. At the back of his mind, he could feel his pores start to open up, his skin start to dampen with sweat as his focus waivered. He focused it the best he could, only for it to be shaken once again as his Core attempted to pulse once again. The fire at his chest grew hotter, the sensation of his Core stretching triggering the invisible needle that slowly prodded into his mind.

His muted senses, in this case, were a blessing, reducing what should have been scream-inducing to instead a mere clenching of his fists. He told himself that this was the only break in his outward, meditative facade, but he knew otherwise. Still, kept the Ether at bay, feeling as if he was being branded on his chest, the needle digging deeper and deeper into his mind until, finally, he could hold on no longer.

Ether flared through him, manifesting into a burst of force that shot from him as his senses returned. He caught the dregs of his internal turmoil, the reward of his meditation a splitting headache that blurred his newly restored vision. He fell back from his seated position, laying against the grass as he rubbed his temples.

“Shite… it’s like Aekinder came down from the heavens just to smack me with his hammer,” he muttered to himself.

His vision slowly cleared thanks to his ministrations, and he was greeted by the sight of Bessie at the close by edge of the clearing he sat in. The Auroc had a half asleep look on her face, and he could see her head bobbing as she started to doze off. He snorted, sharing her sentiment.

His empathy was interrupted as Elly stepped into view, her bare feet skipping across the grass as Aether danced with her. A ring of pale white light orbited around her wrist and her ankle as she channeled the energies of the environment through them, her hands and her feet serving as the interpretation of the spells that she wished to cast. It was the method of all Weavers for spellcasting, from what Helbram had told him, but Elly’s graceful movements held a more… familial aspect to them than what an Academy would have provided.

The lithe spellcaster continued her dance, her feet alternating between carrying her in wide leaps across the clearing as wind flowed around her to rooting her to the ground as she tore spires of rock from the earth below. He’d seen the movements numerous times in the short time that he knew her, but he didn’t think they’d ever stop being impressive. But, she was not the only one who had joined him in his training, and he looked away from Elly’s dance to focus his attention around the rest of the clearing. Eventually, his eyes fell upon Jahora.

Her small body was wrapped in Aether as she sat in a meditative pose similar to the one he was just in. Like all Mages, her body took a more passive role in spellcasting compared to Elly’s, and rather than the rings of Aether that orbited around the Weaver’s limbs, two orbited around Jahora’s head. Leaf could hear her muttering to herself, the words unintelligible even to his sensitive ears. As she spoke, a large glyph appeared below her, banishing any shadows hung over her and giving her gnome body far more presence than it normally produced. Other than sudden flares of light around the mage, no other feedback of her spell manifested. Leaf was tempted to call out to her, but the focus on her face held that desire back. He looked around the clearing once more, his eyes falling upon the remaining member of their group.

Helbram stood alone at the far end of the clearing, close enough to the trees that the forest almost looked to swallow the man into its depths. He was fully adorned in his armor, the burgundy cloth of his brigandine almost black in the distance, and his full helm hid his expression from the world around him, but still he exuded an air of absolute focus. In his hands were his sword, a double edged blade of pale white accented by the scaled like pattern across its surface, and his shield, a circular disk of wood with a metal plate at its center. He held his shield in front of him, his sword level with his head as his gaze remained fixed on an imaginary opponent.

He sprung forward, keeping the shield in front of him as he slashed and stabbed at his invisible foe, making sure the wooden barrier covered his torso at all times as he moved. His movements were precise, the result of what Leaf could only assume to be countless hours of practice. However, if simple practice of movement were Helbram’s only intention, the armored man would not have moved with such purpose. With each swing Leaf felt anticipation tighten his chest, waiting for a flash of light from Helbram’s blade as it danced in front of him. It was an expectation that was never fulfilled, for he finished his imaginary spar, and a weak puff of air escaped his sword, barely shifting the grass below. Leaf frowned as the armored man looked at his sword, expression hidden behind his visor but disappointment fully evident. Helbram let his shoulders sag and looked to the sky, his chest sinking as he let out the long, tired sigh that had become his trademark among them. He shrugged and sheathed his blade before turning to Leaf, aware of the Awoken’s eye’s on him.

“So, how did it go?” the armored man’s voice was hollow behind his visor.

Leaf shrugged and stood up, “Better I suppose, I could hold on a bit longer this time,” he frowned, “no one bleedin’ told me that Cultivation would be so painful.”

Helbram snorted, “I have been told the experience can be quite different with the use of a Technique,” he let the hand with his shield hang loosely at his side, “but unfortunately we are not so lucky to be in possession of one, so the standard method will have to do.”

Leaf scratched his head, “Aye, maybe the pain will lessen with time…”

“I believe it will, actually. Tis the beginning of an Awoken’s journey that is the most painful, or so I have been told,” Helbram said, “but I believe you are stubborn enough to make it past such obstacles,” the smirk was evident to the man’s voice.

Leaf scoffed, “Now what could have ever given you that impression?”

“Just a feeling. Now come on, let us get dinner ready,” He tapped Leaf’s shoulder and walked to the wagon, giving Bessie a light pet behind her ear. As he removed his helmet, the man’s expression held no traces of disappointment, but Leaf could not help but wonder if there was something eating at his companion’s mood. Were he in Helbram’s place, he was certain he’d go mad.

Leaf clicked his teeth, “And he calls me stubborn…”

Night had fallen by the time that dinner was made, a simple stew of some dried meats and vegetables the farmers had given them as a farewell gift. It was touching, if not a bit guilt inducing from the sad look on Lilian’s face as she gave them to Helbram. Perhaps that’s why the stew held a subtle hint of bitterness to its taste tonight.

Leaf crumbled a piece of hard tack into his bowl, letting the hardened ration soften within the soup as it cooled down, “So, mind telling me what to expect at Southshire?”

“Southsheer,” Jahora corrected.

“Right, Southsheer,” Leaf said, “but my question still stands, why are we making a stop there? I know we’re taking our time getting to Whitebridge but this is a bit out of our way.”

The Mage took a sip of her soup, an approving look on her face, “I admit it’s more of a curiosity of mine in this case,” she admitted, “I’ve heard the shrine there is a popular destination for many travelers, looking to get a blessing of the sword held inside.”

“The sword with no name,” Helbram remarked, “tis a bit strange, if I am to be honest, among the other rumors you’ve told us.”

“Yes, though I’m more inclined to believe it is very strange,” Elly said, “especially the select few that say the sword spoke to them. I can’t say that I’ve never heard of sentient weapons, but generally those are able to speak to anyone, not just a select few individuals.”

“All the more reason to investigate it, is it not?” Jahora had a sparkle in her eye, “You can’t tell me you aren’t interested to see what it’s all about.”

“I never said I was not,” Helbram said with a chuckle, “but regardless of rumor we had best keep an eye out. Such objects tend to draw the eyes of many, and in the Freemarks that unfortunately means some more unsavory types.”

The group nodded and Leaf ate a spoonful of his stew, nodding as the savory broth warmed him, “What does it say?”

Jahora looked at him with a quizzical expression.

“The sword, what does it say to the people who said they’ve heard it?” he clarified.

“Ahhhh, yes well I’ve heard differing accounts,” the Mage said as she closed her eyes, “many report that the voice itself is unintelligible, but something that they heard only when they had their hands on the blade itself. Others claim that it tells them their future, from simple things like what they can expect the next day to some far sweeping prophecy about their impending greatness.”

“There was that one fellow that claimed it told him he’d have a dusk elf in his bed that night,” Elly said dryly, “I suppose it lied to him about that.”

“I suspect that it was the ale that was telling him that,” Helbram said, “or his own personal ‘sword’ that was telling him all sorts of dark lies.”

Elly stifled her giggle as she swallowed the mouthful of soup she just ate, “Perhaps, the man certainly was making quite the advance on the wall by the time we left.”

Leaf snorted, but turned back to Jahora, “Right, so most people claim it tells them their future?”

Jahora nodded, “You can imagine that would be quite the appealing prospect. Even if it was only for a few, I imagine that many a traveler wouldn’t mind stopping by the shrine just in case to see if fortune favors them that day.”

“I suppose so,” Helbram said, “Hells, we are going there ourselves, might as well give it a try and see what happens.”

“So long as it’s not cursed,” Leaf said, “Many people may have touched it but that doesn’t mean it’s not waiting for the right person to latch itself onto.”

Hebram rubbed his chin, “Given there is a shrine for it I think there is little to worry about, but it is better to be safe than sorry. Best to evaluate everything when we get there. Though I imagine traveler’s must have given the blade a name even if the shrine claims it possesses none. Did you happen to catch that, Jahora?”

The small Mage tapped her head, then snapped her fingers.

“The Sword of Promise.”