Daniel flared what little remaining power he had. He told the room, and the sword in Marrin's hand, to look at him. He told the Sword that it had a worthy rival in the Squire Branch. He wove into the air the dream of clashing and duels and improvement.

This Great Sword was flaring. But it did listen.

It was actually seemed a good natured sword. Playful, with all things considered. Marrin had not killed Frank. Not a blood hungry sword.

It was not like the Red Sword, and for that, Daniel counted himself lucky. Marrin, with no training, would have completely been washed away had the sword been truly violent.

Daniel recalled his first time holding the Red Sword.

If not for careful guardianship...young Elswith...

Daniel pushed those thoughts from his mind. He spied Esra, always avoiding danger, drag the beaten Frank away. The effect of Marrin's sword was strong, and it's influence was massive. Even with all his training, the Sword's cry of anger was trying to sway Daniel to kick Frank's teeth in.

Esra, of course remained completely unaffected.

"I Say!" Boomed Daniel, breathing carefully to not betray weakness. The Sword was listening with the Wind, Daniel could feel it's fingers around himself, observing. The great Torn a Doe spun listlessly. Daniel could also feel Marrin's touch inside the storm.

Daniel had promised to bring Marrin out of this again.

And he would not fail now.

Marrin, with tears streaming down his face and over his wide twisted grin, moved his left hand into position.

Old style, Daniel noticed. How long has the sword not been used? Swords learned as their wielder learned. They took on and enhanced one's form. Daniel remembered the careful days preparing to hold the Red Sword in practice, how much it had shown him. How much experience it gave him. Just minutes holding the Red Sword could be a better teacher than weeks and months else where.

But the Red Sword was not kind. It had not shown him beautiful things. It had not shown him kind things.

It had warned that there was a reason every Heirling had failed before.

Marrin then moved his wounded right arm, and Daniel grimaced in distaste. This Sword, whatever it's name, may not be malicious. But it was not without its cruelties. As the Sword moved Marrin toward Daniel to fight, Daniel could see fresh blue blood bleeding from the huge Middling's back. He could hear Marrin's rasping breathes and the blue tinge to his lips.

"WE SHALL FIGHT!" Daniel said, to the sword. He pushed out all the experience and essence he knew from the Red Sword. The Red Sword had a song, and Daniel knew a part of it. As long as he kept pushing that 'song' outward, the dull sword seemed willing to follow.

Daniel strode away, not quite turning his back from the face, as he edged. He had been fast in removing Esra's gravity spell, and he hadn't managed to finish all the way. Now walking on the demolished ground, he felt a slight pull toward the wall, like that was the bottom of a steep hill and he was only a step away from falling down it. Too late to remove it now. He needed to keep the Sword's attention.

"But first," he said, pulling back his power. "I see some riffraff has appeared! How can we duel most gloriously, should there be a lesser being there?"

The Shadow Warbler was nearly completely recharged.

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"A Contest!" Said Daniel, to the sword.

Marrin tried to speak, and that encouraged Daniel. As long as Marrin was still there, still listening, there was hope.

The Sword exuded spinning happiness at the word contest. What a nice little Sword it was. It cared about competition. The twisted grin on Marrin's face shot little daggers of regret in Daniel. This should have never happened to the Middling.

Daniel very carefully concealed his feelings. The wind of the Sword was searching and hunting for anything, including scents and the slight wafts of emotions. Swords were not a blessing. At least not to the one who wields them.

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Marrin liked contests. He always had. One year, he had grown the very best rutabaga on the entire farm and surrounding communities. They had celebrated how perfectly formed it had been. Marrin had even won a blue ribbon...

inhale.

exhal...

He kept trying to blink, but right now he couldn't remember how his facial muscles worked. His eyes were starting to sting. He should close them. He really tried to close them. He couldn't see anyway. Stinging. Everything hurt. Was his back bleeding again?

n haliii...

'seeing' in the wind was superior anyway. The colors, if you could call it colors, were wilder. They told him things.

inn hal. wait, he had already inhaled. He needed the other one...

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"Contest?" Marrin whispered. Or was it the Sword?

Daniel couldn't tell. He hoped it was Marrin. The green hatted Middling with dirt under his finger nails from gardening.

If Daniel didn't finish this quickly, there were two scenarios that would happen.

The first and best was that the Sword would excitedly use Marrin until the Fae reached his limit, and passed out. Most Great Swords, the records showed, did not desire their wielder's death. The Sword would pull back into itself, and upon awakening, Marrin would have gained powerful experience, and after careful training, Marrin would walk away all the wiser.

The second and worst scenario would be the Sword, in either careless bravado or willing malice, would kill Marrin.

Daniel had no real experience with someone using a Sword with no training. It could be that the Sword was perfectly behaved and Marrin simply didn't have the training to wield it. It could be that this was one of the cursed blades that entire bloodlines swore to hide and never allow their use again.

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"The Contest is who can push the Shadow Warbler back into the trap! I shall go first!" Cried the Heirling of the Red. The Sword of the Storm had a moment of pity for the being. Did it not see how deeply scarred it was? How ravaged it's flesh was? But that was the Way of the Red.

But the Sword of the Storm was more excited about a contest.

It had won a blue ribbon once for a rutabaga once...

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Daniel knew he had Marrin's full attention.

He was pouring out power fast, but he knew how Sword's worked.

Again, most would rush and panic.

But Daniel moved confidently.

Despite Daniel technically winning against the Golem, it appeared that the Golem was still alive, somewhere, wherever the maid Shelby had taken it to. If not for that, the situation would be much worse.

Daniel let go of his borrowed sword, and picked up at long last the old crowbar. His borrowed sword shattered into pieces, as he had used entirely too much power through the modest blade. He felt the rough metal of the crowbar, and almost smiled as he remembered Orville and Mathias. Both allies and friends he would not get to meet until after the Game ended.

He held up the crowbar in guard position, and focused on the Shadow Warbler.

He had held this as a child. Strange that they had left it so close by.

He kept the song of the Red Sword playing, wasting so much power. But he faced his childhood fear. "You almost killed my friend." He said, and felt strength.

"What is this?" the shadow warbler said, without moving its mouth again. It searched around, lashing out like a blind wild animal. "Can't take it. Don't take it. Mine. Mine. Mine."

"And I was afraid of you." Said Daniel. "But I think...the humantales have it wrong. I think..." Daniel paused as the Shadow Warbler clawed at it's gag. "I think you are not a curse. Why else would the O'Tells leave you? I think something terrible has befallen you. I will not let you hurt anyone."

"What is it?" it warbled, sharp talon like fingers reaching out.

"I think you need help too. And this time, I won't run away."

The Shadow Warbler.

Everyone had always called it a monster.

But Daniel knew now that if it had truly been trying to kill young Orville, all those years ago, the Lordling would have perished. Daniel had since seen those without sight or magical ways to navigate. He had seen how to grope around in the dark.

It had not struck Orville to kill him. The Shadow Warbler had only tried to feel his face. Did it not know its fingers were claws? Perhaps not. Once blood was draw, it was a wild animal, but there had been a moment where the Shadow Warbler had been kind.

Looking in the dark.

"We are putting you away now." he said. "But it won't be forever. I promise."

And the Law of Fae heard the promise.

And...so did the Shadow Warbler. It still lashed out, still searching.

But Daniel perceive it did without malice.