I may find the sword annoying at times. But, I do find the company somehow comforting as I venture out into the world.
The road is long as I seek out my next town.
At a crossroads, I find a sign for two new paths.
"We should go North," the sword says.
"Why?"
"I want to visit an old stomping ground of mine."
I frown, "It's too cold."
"Man up, boyo. Indulge me."
I sigh as I follow the sword will's whim.
Days pass as I hunt for my food.
This is a lifestyle I've known for a long time. Eating wild game and sleeping under the stars.
"How old are you?" I find myself asking one night.
The sword is silent for a moment.
I was forged in the age of the first men. When humans were still the children of the gods.
"I couldn't count the ages I've seen come and go.
"Humanity changed. The elves and the dwarves changed.
"It has grown more difficult as the time has passed for me to find a bearer worthy of me."
The sword glows to show its pride.
"This is one reason I want you to learn the secrets of immortality. Otherwise, I could be waiting a long time for another bearer.
It's not particularly shocking. I just find myself wondering what it sees in me to call me worthy.
"What makes someone worthy?"
"Oh, it's just a feeling."
I let out a breath as I rest.
Along my path, I come upon a village.
The gazes are hostile as I walk through it.
Before I reach the other side, I am approached by a woman. Rather than enmity, I see desperation in her.
"Are you an adventurer?" she asks with a trembling voice.
I'd never really considered myself as such. But, I can't deny the description.
"Yes."
With shaky hands, she reaches into her clothes.
Her fingers tremble as she offers me a silver coin and four copper pieces.
"Please," she begs, "save my son."
"I don't-" I begin.
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"Quest," the sword exclaims, "accepted!"
I find myself caught up in the emotion on display.
"What do you mean?" I ask as I motion for the woman to put away her money.
Her trembling mellows, "My son. All the children of our village have been taken by bandits.
"My husband," she chokes up. "My husband was killed when he tried to resist."
I bite my cheek. I don't make a habit out of playing the hero. But, I can't deny the tragedy in the woman's eyes.
"Tell me more."
Her voice steadies as she points me in the direction of an old tower to the East.
"They've taken it as their base. The children were taken two days ago."
"Please, save them."
I nod my head, "I'll try."
"Try what?" the sword asks. "We're gonna mop the floor with these bandits."
I ignore the sword will as I leave the village.
The green plains expand to the horizon as I begin my search for this fortress in the middle of nowhere.
The day passes and I realize that I'm lost.
"You're not good at this part of the job."
"Shut it."
"I'm just saying, you need to pay more attention to where you're going."
Just as I begin to lose hope of fulfilling this quest, I see a lone, stone, tower in a sea of green.
The sword glows with excitement.
There is still time in the day. So I resolved myself to the assault.
"Don't worry," the sword says. "I'll take over if you get in over your head."
Part of me dislikes the blade's ability to take me over. But, at the same time, I'm not too experienced with fighting humans.
My approach goes unnoticed as I find the door to the tower.
Testing it confirms the bandits' lack of wisdom.
The sword leads me as I enter the torch-lit room.
"When does the slaver get here?" I overhear a conversation from around a corner.
"Tomorrow," another voice says. "We'll make good money off of those runts."
The blade's excitement casts light on the walls.
"Who's there?" one of the voices barks.
Recognizing my stealth ruined, I turn the corner to find two rugged-looking men coming to their feet.
Cruel knives come out.
"Nice sword," one says. "Toss it on the floor and we might let you live."
"Come on," the sword moans. "Attack."
One of them comes at me directly while the other circles around.
Finally, I attack the enemy before me.
He parries my blow while the second one charges.
A sense of vertigo comes over me as the sword takes over.
The blade encounters the man in front and sails through the air to cut off the hands of the other.
A scream reverberates on the walls as the bandit realizes he's lost his hands.
The other has no time to worry about his friend as my body goes into a sequence of moves that lead to the sword being buried in his skull.
The sword glows a blinding orange as I hear enemies descend the stairs.
As they come, my body moves fluidly.
Blood pools on the floor as the bodies multiply. Hot liquid runs down my face.
My body is breathing heavily as it's returned to me.
I feel sick.
My breathing steadies and I swallow my vomit.
"That was amazing!" the sword raves. "I was like woosh. And, they were like, ah! I was on fire."
I don't critique the slaughter. I just move to the stairs.
My legs are heavy as I reach the top.
I can hear them before I see them.
Sniffling and tearful crying.
As I stomp up to their level, I hear a shuffling.
The cries grow more pronounced when I, covered in blood, come out before the captives.
I wipe my face and look around the room.
On a table, I see keys.
I take them and begin unlocking the cages.
The children pull back into the corners of their cages.
"It's alright," I try to appease them. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
My words do nothing to convince them.
"Is there a Marty here?"
I look from face to face.
"Marty's mother gave me this." I pull out a small teddy bear.
The eyes shift until one boy comes over and, hesitantly, reaches out to grab the toy.
Marty looks from his bear to me.
There is mistrust. But, more than that, hope.
One by one, the children leave their cages.
On the table nearby is food the bandits had prepared.
Ravenous appetites see the food disappear.
It's getting late. But, I don't want to see the slaver, so I get the party moving out.
We arrive at the village at dusk and families come out weeping.
Marty's mother can barely contain herself as she pushes all of her money into my hands.
"Thank you," she says.
Others echo her words. But, none step forward with reward money.
I bow my way out of the reunion and carry on with my journey North.
"You did good, bearer," the sword says, stirring me from my thoughts.
"But, you did all the fighting."
"Yes," the sword glows. "I was amazing.
"But," it says, "you kept your composure. You did good not blowing chunks."
Not for the first time, I think about leaving the sword by the side of the road.
We carry on until it grows too dark and I find a place to rest.