With the decision made, I found the last remaining healing cake in Caveria’s pack and ate it. I had no intention of spending the night on the mountain, even though it had be late evening by now. Better to just go down to Davorra and get things moving.

The cake did its thing, and chased the remaining tiredness from my body. As I hoisted the packs onto my back and chest I was reminded that the cake wasn’t a replacement for rest and sleep - my body still ached from the exertions of the last couple of days.

I felt restless, though, and thought it was probably better to get back to Tiriel and the others. I wasn’t actually sure they would want to see me, or to go on with me - but I wanted to be with them. This whole thing frightened me, and I could see so many ways it could turn out to be a disaster, but if I tried to do it alone... I couldn’t see any way it might succeed, without help.

So, back to Davorra, and to find Tiriel’s party. I checked my stuff, and then got out the battered old coin I’d found at the battle site. Sorry, Caveria, I thought. I tried to save you, but it didn’t work. So this is for you. Even though you’d probably have disapproved if you knew what I’m doing.

I put the coin back and started down the mountain. Since it was longer raining, and with the Dragonblade providing light and support, it was a reasonably easy downhill journey. Soon enough I could see the faint lights of Davorra glimmering in the distance. I continued on until the ground flattened out slightly, and shed my sword and packs. I wanted to announce my arrival.

I had tried to think through the options, but they all seemed to bad. The one thing I felt sure of was that subtlety and caution was a recipe for complete disaster. If I’d understood it, there was no way to hide the Dragonblade from anyone with magical skills, and with my overall lack of social skills and understanding of Lumarian politics there was no way I’d be able to maneuver among all the people who would want the sword.

I’d decided to trust what the others had told me instead. If the Dragonblade was the most powerful weapon in Lumaria, it seemed much better to simply use it as such. And so I walked some distance away from my things, and then raised the sword into the sky.

It thrummed with joy, and like before, I could sense everything around me. I could also sense the last few remnants on the thunderstorm, and it was easy to begin to draw them towards me, away from the mountain. The sword did it, of course, but I had to guide it.

I knew I needed to understand much more about the sword, but for now, I had to use it as best as I could. When the dark clouds flowed down from the peak and began to gather above me, I took a deep breath, and called down the lightning.

It struck, like before, from several directions at once, and it made the sword sing with joy. The feeling flowed into me as well, and I laughed as the lightning danced around me. It did feel like a song and a dance - I could make lightning shoot down from the cloud and out of the sword, and arc towards the sky and then down to strike the ground hundreds of meters away.

The sword wanted me to do more, to call more lightning and more power, and I almost did, but managed to stop myself. It was seductive. It was so easy, and the sense of power was utterly exhilarating. But it scared me too, and I thought it would be sensible to try to keep that feeling. I had a vague impression that the sword drew its power mostly from the world around us, but some of it came from me. I could probably kill myself quite easily by overusing the sword.

So I ended the light show, which took a little bit of mental wrestling with the sword. Only then did I realize just how noisy the whole thing had been. Thunder echoed between the mountains and valleys sides around me. Well, of course - the lightning caused thunder, like normal lightning.

Good, I thought, I want to let them know I’m coming. I went back and picked up my stuff and resumed walking down into the valley. I felt much better now, after using the sword.

As I approached the checkpoint where Caveria and I had left the town I saw a group of fully-armed soldiers, in a pool of flickering torchlight. I almost turned around - it felt preposterous to approach a platoon of soldiers all alone - but took a deep breath and tightened my grip on the Dragonblade. It sent a burst of eager, restless energy back.

“Halt!” one of the soldiers called out as I walked up to them. “Davorra is closed. You may not enter.” He looked like some kind of officer, and was flanked by several more plain-looking soldiers, holding swords and torches. They looked scared, and the officer looked less than enthusiastic himself.

“Greetings,” I called back, and stopped a short distance away. “I am aware of that, but I request entry anyway. I have business with the governor. Let me through.”

The officer glanced at another officer, who was standing off towards the edge of pool of light. He shook his head slightly.

“That is not permitted,” the first officer began, but I interrupted him.

“I am not interested in your permission,” I said, and raised the Dragonblade. I looked straight at him as I sent lightning flying from the blade, crackling high into the sky before arcing out like a crooked, jagged tree. “I am sure you understand or suspect what this is,” I continued when the noise had died down. “As I said, I need to see the governor. Let me through.”

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They folded, as I’d thought they would, but I still breathed a sigh of relief when the officer assigned two men to escort me to the town hall. They did try a little bit of argument, trying to make me wait until the morning. The general is asleep, they tried, and I told them gently that I might be able to wake him up.

The officers seemed very unhappy about it all, but they too looked rather relieved when I thanked them and followed my two guides. I held the sword at the ready and tried to sense as much as I could as I walked through the checkpoint. I could sense a lot from the soldiers, mostly fear, doubt, and amazement, but no intention to attack or trap me. I hoped they thought they didn’t stand a chance against the Dragonblade, even though I wasn’t at all sure I could deflect any kind of attack.

The sword seemed to think so, though, and radiated a happy confidence as I followed the two nervous soldiers down the empty streets of Davorra. They led me straight to the town hall in the middle of the central street, where they had great trouble explaining to the tired and annoyed guard why they had brought me here.

I finally took mercy on them, and raised the sword high, with small, tiny flickers of lightning running along the blade.

“You may have seen lightning earlier,” I told the guard. “That was me, and if I am not admitted to see the general right now, I will repeat the performance right here in the street.”

The guard still looked dubious, but just as with the officers, self-preservation won out. I saw in his eyes that he had indeed seen my light show.

“Well,” he said, and with that, my two guides apparently considered me handed over to the proper authorities. They saluted the guard and thanked him, and half-ran back to their checkpoint. I suppressed a laugh as the poor guard called for his backups, and told one of them to take me up to the general’s reception room and the other to go straight to the general. The guard at the door looked happy that he was on duty at the door and so didn’t have to get involved.

I followed the other guard, who glanced fearfully at the Dragonblade but said nothing, up a flight of stairs and into a large but rather spare room. Someone had tried to make it at least slightly luxurious, but Davorra was a frontier town and there wasn’t much luxury to be had.

I didn’t mind, of course. I wasn’t here to stay. I didn’t have to wait long - it can’t have been five minutes before a man swept in through the double doors on the other end. He looked slightly bleary, but was fully dressed and armed in a heavily decorated uniform.

He stopped by the wooden desk and regarded me with a cool, if faintly annoyed, expression.

“So,” he said. “I assume you are the reason for the strange thunderstorms we had tonight.”

“That’s right,” I said and held up the sword again with lightning flickering along the blade. “This is the Dragonblade,” I said.

The general kept his calm, cool expression, but couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking up to the sword, and then back to me. “That is a bold claim,” he said.

“Bold but true,” I said. “Listen, general. I am not here to cause any trouble in Davorra, or to you and your men. I have one simple demand.” The general looked suspicious, and I felt a whiff of panic. I can’t go around making demands of the Dimran army, it cried, but I fought it down. Keep moving.

“And that is?”

“That you release the High Princess Tiriel from custody, and allow me to rejoin the party so that we can be on our way without any interference from you or your forces.”

The general smiled, a sharp, thin smile. “We are certainly not keeping Her Highness in custody. She has been requested to await the arrival of diplomats from Ambor. I’m afraid that is not negotiable, sir... I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

I very nearly just told him my name, but a sudden impulse made me change it. “You can call me Lord Peter,” I said. The general’s eyebrows rose and his gaze flicked to the sword again.

“I see,” he said. “I am general Lamar Kerendre, of the Dimran army.”

I nodded. “Good,” I said, unsure how to introduce myself to a general. Don’t, was probably the best way. Don’t stop. Keep moving. “I am not here to negotiate,” I went on, and tamped down a cloud of butterflies in my stomach. “I am here to dictate terms.”

The general eyebrows climbed again, much farther. “On whose authority?” he asked.

“Mine,” I told him, and made lightning crackle along the blade again. “And the Dragonblade’s.” I tried a sharp-toothed smile at him. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem too impressed. Instead, he sighed.

“As I said, that is a bold claim,” he said. “That needs to be settled before anything else can be agreed.”

“Perhaps this might help settle the matter,” I said, and aimed the sword at an urn in a corner, holding some dried summer flowers. I sent a small stab of lightning at it. The urn exploded, forcing the general to duck and protect his face from flying pieces.

“Interesting,” he said as he straightened up again. “Unfortunately it is not enough, but- I have a proposal.” He looked over his shoulder at the door, and a man walked through it. I recognized him - it was the battle mage who had tried to stop us from leaving.

“Samra here is a battle mage,” the general said, with a sharp-toothed smile of his own. “He will be more than able to judge your claim.”

“Indeed I will,” Samra said, but he didn’t look nearly as confident as he sounded. His gaze kept straying to the sword in my hand, and I thought he looked slightly boggled.

“The best test is through combat,” he continued. “Let us simply fight. If that is indeed the Dragonblade, you should have no difficulty fending me off. If not...” He shrugged.

I pursed my lips and pondered this. A fight. I had no desire to fight. The sword did, though. I realized it was fairly trembling with desire to fight, and fight a battle mage. I could sense Samra’s magic, like a low, smoldering fire.

At the same time, I had to convince the general this was the real Dragonblade. I’d decided to go in openly, and I felt clearly that that was the right thing to do - there was no way I could argue or negotiate with the general unless I had the sword backing me up.

So, it would have to be a fight. I would never have done it if it hadn’t been for the Dragonblade in my hand, itching to unleash more power, and fight.

“All right,” I said. “But... not in here?”

“No,” the general said. “Let us go outside.”

He gestured, and the soldier who had led me up turned and walked out the door. I followed, still carrying the two packs. I had no idea how I was going to pull this off, and I was very worried about Samra’s fire magic. The stuff I’d seen Caveria do seemed... impossible.

We all went down to the square outside the town hall. I suspected the general didn’t really think I had the Dragonblade, since it seemed reckless to allow a full-on fight between a battle mage and someone with the Dragonblade in the middle of a town full of wooden houses. I hoped we wouldn’t burn the whole place down.

I shed my packs and then walked out in the middle of the open space, facing Samra.

“Simple rules,” he said. “Let us fight, and the first who is incapacitated, loses.”

I just nodded. I didn’t know what else I could propose. I took a deep breath, and raised the sword.