"Uncle, how much would it be to fix this blade?" I asked a well-muscled blacksmith at the nearest city.

The man took over the blade and turned it over in his hand. He gave a small whistle when he saw that the blade had snapped clean in half.

"Young lad...I can't fix your blade."

I furrowed my brow. "Uncle, do you know of anyone that can?"

"No, no, young lad. You misunderstand me. I cannot fix your blade, as the only way to restore this blade, is to completely reforge it. It will never be the same blade again."

I looked at my broken sword. The blade measured three feet three, and the blade was wide three inches. Patterned Damascus steel. The crossguard was a simple cross over the tang and the hilt. Eurus. Latin for East Wind. That was its name. It had stayed by my side for almost ten years. It will never be the same sword again.

I did not say anything. The blacksmith seemed to see something in my expression and gently set the blade down. "We can only welcome the new, by reforging the old..."

I laughed wryly. "Very well, Uncle. My blade is a simple one, and I'm sure a master of your skill could make it into a blade fit for a king, but I would like to ask you to keep my old friend in the shape it was before. "

"Very well, young lad. The price will be one gold piece. I shan't be using any more new material except for...aye, just a couple pieces of prime steel."

I reached for my waist, to where my pouch of money would have normally hung. I then remembered that I had nothing anymore. Shaking my head, I pulled down my bag from my shoulder and searched through it to see if Jade had left me any money. I did not find anything.

"I am sorry, Uncle. I have not any money on me. "

I sighed, and reached out for my fragmented blade, dejected.

The blacksmith furrowed his brow. He shook his head lightly. He took my sword and placed it in the forge with a pair of tongs.

"I happen to be missing an extra pair of hands around here, lad. How would you like to work with me for a while to pay off the sword?"

I looked at him in surprise. A smile broke out across my face. I was relieved. "Thank you so much, Uncle. I'd be more than happy to offer my services in order to repair my blade."

The man laughed. "Call me Ron. Get yourself an apron from there, and roll up your sleeves, son. "

"Yes, Uncle Ron."

I put on the large apron and rolled up my sleeves as he asked. He gave me a pair of tongs and told me to hold the blade still while he worked on it with the hammer.

The forge blazed furiously. I was used to physical work and long hours under heat practicing bladework, but still found the heat a bit hard to combat. Finally, Ron called out that the two pieces were hot enough to forge.

I quickly snatched them both out of the fire and placed them onto the anvil. Uncle Ron swung the hammer in his hand back and forth. He seemed to be checking it. Suddenly, he took a deep breath and lifted the hammer and brought it down on the blade.

Clang!

Sharp, clean sounds of striking metal rang into the air. Sparks flew and were quickly chased away by the afternoon breeze.

By evening, we had gone through the basic purifying, continually folding and burning away the impurities.

Uncle Ron wiped at his brow with a cloth and sighed.

"And that's that, son. Your blade, I expect, should be ready in about the month. When it's ready...you may leave."

"Uncle Ron, please. I owe you much more than a month's work. A blade of this caliber definitely is not just worth that much. I can already tell by the luster of the purified steel."

"No son. I did not take you in because I needed you to pay for it. I took you in, because you're a young lad that is in need of some help."

I quieted, the protest dying before it left my mouth. I suddenly wasn't sure what to say.

"Young lad...I've been places. I've seen things." Sighing, Uncle Ron swabbed at his sweat with the cloth. "And I know a person in need when I see one. You're a tough young man lad. And you're strong, both of will and of body, aye. But even the tallest, strongest trees will fall if they are pushed over by winds too strong and rains too hard. You are not that tree, lad. You are but a sapling. In this way, you need someone to give you time to grow, no?"

Uncle Ron shook his head. "Look at the time. Let's be back, lest my wife get angry at me. Oh, and my baby girl too."

I did not say anything. I put out the fire in the forge, and hung up the tools onto their racks.

"Lad! Let's us away!" Uncle Ron waved at me. He was already at the door, and waved at me to follow him.

"Yes, Uncle." I stepped outside hurriedly, and hung my apron on the apron rack. Uncle Ron locked the door to the smithy and led the way to his home.

The soft, warm, summer night wind swept away the last of the sweat on my brow. Small fireflies gave pulsing, yellow-green lights that looked like stars that had fallen to earth.

We walked for a couple minutes until we arrived at a medium sized brick home. Ron rubbed his hands and knocked on the door.

"Hon! I'm home!" Uncle Ron then unlocked the door and walked in.

A slim woman was sitting at a small table with a girl of about fifteen years of age. They turned their heads, and I could see the clear similarities in their appearances.

"I'm home!" Uncle Ron knelt down on one knee and held his arms wide open. The little girl wiggles out of her seat at the table and charged into her father's arms.

"Daddy!" Uncle Ron laughed and stood up with her and swung her around. He settled her down on his shoulder and looked over to me.

"And we have a visitor. Anna, Chryssie, this is Mist Ji. He will be staying with us for a while as an apprentice in the smithery. Mist, my wife, Anna. This is my daughter, Chryssie."

Anna nodded at me and gave me a warm smile. "Luckily I made some extra tonight." I smiled at her too, and dipped my head in thanks.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay here. "

Ron shook his head, and told me, "No need, son."

I dipped my head in gratitude again, regardless.

Anna brought a couple platters of food out of a room of what was presumably the kitchen. When she placed it on the table, a delicious scent spread through the air. I could scarcely keep my mouth closed.

"Eat up!" I allowed for the others to take a piece of food first before I took anything. This was respect for my hosts.

"Daddy, tell me a story!" the little girl suddenly cried out.

Uncle Ron looked up amused from his food. "You're that sleepy, sweetheart?"

The little girl shook her head and flushed a little. "I want to hear Daddy tell stories! The...the one about the big tree!"

I smiled at the young girl's enthusiasm. She was like a little angel.

Ron smiled and per the girls request, began to tell his story.

"A long, long time ago, before there was a sky, before there was an earth, before there were any animals, any plants, any people...there was only a singular being. It was the World-Tree. The World Tree was everything. There was nothing but him. Outside of it, there was only a blank space of nothingness. No one knows where the World Tree came from, or how it came to be. It simply was...And it had always been sleeping. I came into being as a slumbering tree.

When the World Tree one day woke from its deep, deep slumber. And when it opened its eyes, it saw only the nothingness, and it grew sad. It desired for a companion. So the World Tree shook out a couple leaves from its branches and the leaves scattered through space.

The leaves of the World Tree were enormous. As they settled into space, the World Tree gave them part of its energy and the leaves became alive. Before long, they had taken root in space, blossomed, and become trees themselves. Though they were strange trees. These trees had not a green leaf on them. Instead, they only flowered into beautiful blossoms of every hue that exists. The World Tree was satisfied when he saw this beautiful sight. One day, though, he felt something strange in one of the trees. It decided to take a closer look, and when it peered into one of the blossoms of the new saplings it saw even smaller trees, that formed groves, and formed forests, and covered the land.

The World Tree then understood. He had shaken the leaves off, and they had fallen into space. When they took root after he breathed life into them...they blossomed, and within the blossom, there was one land, one sun, one moon, one ocean, and three thousand stars. The World Tree was happy. It blessed each of the blossoms, and the life within them grew extremely quickly. The World Tree then went to shaking off more and more leaves...each leaf grew into its own tree, all leafless and filled with beautiful blossoms. And each blossom was a world..."

I frowned at this. This was not the Creation of the world that I had originally heard of. I had learned that a God had created the world in six days. One the first day, when he said let there be light, and thus, created day and night. On the second, the Heavens. The third, the Earth, the fourth, the sun, moon, and stars, the fifth, the creatures of the deep, and the creatures that fly, the sixth, the beasts that roam the land, and humans. On the seventh, he rested.

This was extremely different from anything I had ever heard. I held my tongue. I looked up to see Uncle Ron looking at me with a serious expression. He nodded when he saw the confusion in my eyes.

Uncle Ron continued in his story.

The worlds were so beautiful, that the World Tree decided that they must be inhabited. The World Tree gave a soft breath and allowed some dust made from its bark to settle upon the blossoms. With a small burst of light, each speck of dust became a beast. And wherever they settled, it sprung into life as either a beast of the land, the sea, or the air. And the World Tree was satisfied. Sometimes, the World Tree would even make itself into the likeness of a person and walk upon the worlds. There, he saw great cities and structures. When the World tree looked around, he was surprised to find that some of the beasts that he had created had developed intelligence. And when the World Tree walked through the cities, he saw his creations healthy and flourishing.

But not long after, as the World Tree was taking another stroll through the worlds, he realized that many of the beasts that he created were disappearing. He could not understand why. When he peered within, he saw that the beast he had, was dying out. While they were capable of reproducing, they could not live for long. And the World Tree decided to make something called "Aura." He gave it to the people, and told them how to draw the Aura into themselves and grow stronger. He also explained that Aura was capable of healing wounds and prolonging lives. And the people practiced Aura, and prolonged their lives. But they still passed on. So the World Tree created Reincarnation. Whenever the people died, their soul would be drawn into Reincarnation and reborn as the soul of a newborn.

When the World Tree came back to the world, he expected to find the people filled with endless life and no pain. Unfortunately, intelligence is not only knowledge of the good, it is also for the bad. He saw people killing each other over objects that were Aura rich. He saw people enslaving each other. And the World Tree was saddened deeply by this. The World Tree thought for a moment, and he created a decree and sent it into each of the worlds.

It declared that whoever should have the World Tree's Scroll of Heaven was the ruler of all of the worlds. And the World Tree cast the scroll into the mortal world and allowed it to settle in the womb of a pregnant woman. When the woman gave birth to her child, the stars, the sun, and moon dimmed with respect for their future ruler, and all the beast within one hundred worlds knelt and groveled in the direction of the boy. The people knew that the true ruler of the world was born. They gathered from the direction of the way that the beasts were kneeling the world in which the boy was born. And then, they swept into the world, and took all of the babies that were born that night.

The World Tree suspected something like this might happen, so he made all of the mountains around the village where the young King was born crumble and hide the village from the light of day. And no one found him. One year later, the World tree walked back into the mortal realm and removed the earth surrounding the village. He held out his hand to the boy and lifted him out of the dirt. He then blessed the village with good fortune, and the people of the village were reimbursed for their sacrifices.

The World Tree himself trained and prepared the young King for his duties. And the young King did not fail him. Within five years, the young King learned all that there was to learn and it was only a matter of time before he should be able to look down upon the world with the regality that was common of a true King.

The King faced many challenges along his way. But that is a story for another time, my dear, for this story about the World Tree and us. Under the rule of the King, the world faced a period of glory. But even the perfect human could not live forever. The World Tree was unable to create anything eternal. And neither was the spirit of the World Tree. When the King had passed, the World Tree too, fell into silence. None could ever hear its words anymore.

And it could not have gone silent at a worse time. Because, there came unwelcome visitors from another world. They came from far, far away. They came in their ships of white, blazing like the Sun. They came on their steeds of gold, that trailed blazing infernos. They were the Conquerors.

None could stand before the might of the Conquerors. They razed the land, killing, looting, and destroying worlds. Wherever they came across a World Blossom, they tore it to pieces. When they came across a World Tree, they burned it to the ground. Before long, the original people, who referred to themselves as Ancients, were forced further and further into their own territory. The conquerors made their own lands, and rounded up the weaker Ancients to serve as animals to hunt. Or to shame and embarrass in the most horrific ways possible.

Finally, the World Tree spoke once more.

"My children...I have aged, I have grown weak. I cannot fight these intruders. I am dying, my children. I cannot continue on. I will only hope that my power will flow within you. I weep for you, and I pain, that I cannot drive these intruders out...but I will use the last of my power to create a seed that will grow one day, into a new World Tree...He will drive the fires away from our forest, and use his great branches to make a new world for us!"

And with that, the World tree shriveled. It died, and all that was left of it was the smallest seed. And before anyone could react, there was suddenly a flash of light, and a Conqueror stood over the seed, and picked it up. He scoffed, and burned it to nothingness.

The last drop of hope lost, the Ancients all ran as far as they could. The war between the Ancients and the Conquerors...still goes on today. In the midst of the slaughter by the Conquerors, there were five bloodlines that were strong enough to fight the Conquerors. The Medusa Tribes, the Dragon Court, the Fae, the Phoenix Clan, and the Night Order. They have been fighting to keep the land that the Conquerors take, and have even luckily won some of it back. Now, there are only a third of the World Trees left and that still belong to the Ancients. Others have either been razed to the ground or have been taken over. The fighting continues today. It has never stopped, and it never will, until the World tree's Prophecy comes true. Yes, though the Conqueror destroyed the seed before our eyes...the Ancients will not lose hope. They never will. They will always resist. And that, my dear, is the story of the World Tree and us."

By this time, the girl had already fallen asleep. Ron looked at me with a pair of serious eyes.

"Now, oh respected Medusa, will you tell me the purpose of your arrival upon our humble abode?"

...