The Weapon and his Hero

[Minibit]

@Saren of the Dark Path

Elenora almost fell to her knees in relief when she came upon the overgrown entrance to the crypt. Putting her shoulder against the cover-stone, she cringed as it squeaked against the stone behind it. the dense forest was full of noises of animals, wind in the leaves, water, and they mysterious sounds that always filled a forest, but Elenora's ears were tuned for the sound of heavy boots; although she hadn't seen any patrols for days as she trekked these last two weeks through the forest, searching under every brush and boulder. Absolute silence was necessary; she couldn't afford to be thwarted. Maybe, once she'd found the weapon, she'd have some time, and she could sing an ode to the end of the world.

She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as she felt cobwebs in her hair, ducking into the crypt. Gritting her teeth, she began pulling the entrance shut behind her. Her undershirt and sleeveless tunic were already as filthy as her boots, which were caked with mud, leaves, and bits of moldy plant up to her knees, worse things up to her thigh. The only water she'd encountered in this forest had been in the swamp, and there wasn't enough coin in the world to get her into that water willingly. As to her hair, tied up in multiple long black braids, she was fairly sure it was stuck in its current slapdash style as if it had been painted in paste. Chunks of damp earth fell down past her ear and onto her shoulder when the stone slammed back into its groove in the ground, and all she could think was that she'd do murder for a futile bucket of clear water.

Having closed the crypt, she pressed her back against the cover-stone, and quieted her breathing, listening in the dark. She'd effectively blocked out the light, and when, fifty heartbeats later, there was still no sound, she relaxed, placing her palm against the edge of the cover-stone, she drew it back slowly, murmuring a simple incantation as she drew her hand back, a small portion of daylight hovering above it, giving off about as much light as a candle.

The entrance to what had once been a crypt to stand undisturbed until the end of time had performed its purpose admirably, and had decomposed into what anyone would take for a common cave. The earth was damp, as were the walls of the cave; it felt humid. There was water somewhere.

Following the cave, she found a dead end a short way off, and turned her attention to the ground, digging in the earth with her foot until she found a second cover-stone. This one was buried in the earth, but thankfully the earth was mostly soil and clay, and she could dig it out with her hands; there was already a healthy portion of dirt under her nails anyway. Depending on how far this went down, she thought, futilely wiping her hands on her legs as she pulled the flat stone up and over, she might have to go back into the woods and retrieve her pack; this would be a good place to hole up, rather than going and returning every day until she found The Weapon.

A chill passed through her spine as the word crossed her mind. The Weapon; the one that was never to be used, except when there was nothing else to do. The silence as she scrabbled for a rock to drop into the space only pounded the gravity of the situation into her bones. She had no idea what she was looking for, only that it was powerful enough to stamp out the forces stomping the world under their boots, and everyone else along with them. It was a strange feeling, being the one who had to be surer than anyone else that there was nothing left to do; the one who had to strike the killing blow. She wondered if there would be a bang, a pulse, a shockwave. She had a nightmare last week that the weapon possessed her, turning her into a demon who rampaged across the earth, accomplishing the necessary task with her own bloodied hands.

She lowered herself into the space, which didn't seem to be much more than a couple of meters deep, and found her new footing smooth stone; undisturbed except for the earth that had fallen during her excavation. She scraped and scuffled her way through three more doors and trap-doors, two of them still very well-hidden, before she found herself in an open room; the daylight in her hand was turning orange and waning; the sun was probably going down outside. She shuffled forward, wary of traps as she eyed a long, dry-rotted wood box on the table at the end of the room.

 

[Saren of the Dark Path]

A presence began to stir as something entered it's chambers for the first time in ages. Or had it been no time at all? It couldn't quite figure either which way. Time was a strange thing when one lacked a degrading form. Even as time and entropy began to degrade the structure around it, the presence stayed as it always had. Well, maybe not entirely true. An eternity of consciousness was not an appealing concept to any creature that couldn't waste away so easily so much time had been spent in slumber. The longer it hibernated the more of it's mind it lost. While it stayed perfectly sane it began to lose pieces of it's memories to the void. It had been long since it could remember it's name, it's origin, it's purpose. How it'd reached it's resting point or why it'd been placed there to begin with. With little more to lose it was left with nothing but the chamber. A big mass of rocks and dirt, the only anomaly being a container of tree trimmings and it's vessel. So long it'd sat in the dark that it's memory of it's own shape was fuzzy.

It truly began to awaken as it felt the unfamiliar sensation of sunlight squeezing through the cracks in the rotting box. It awoke as if just waking up for a very good night's sleep. Had all the rocks above finally crumbled away to reveal the heavens or had someone dug straight down to reach it? On that thought, why would anyone want to reach it again? It felt as though it was here for a reason but it couldn't be sure. Of course it couldn't figure for itself. It had to wait patiently as the light drew nearer, wondering if it was time to truly awaken.

 

[Minibit]

For a moment, Elenora stood above the box, looking at it. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she wondered how powerful something that fit in this narrow box could be. It looked like the crates they shipped pipes in back at the city, only a hundred times older; maybe it was a mechanism of some kind, or a volatile power source. She swallowed, and her heart pounded in her ears as she lifted the lid.

She peered inside, holding her fading daylight closer. Inside the box was the last thing she expected; a sword. Frowning, she squinted at it, looking for a mechanism of some kind; this had to be a false lead, right? No one had used such an archaic weapon in ages. Swords were still used by a few enthusiasts, but something unenchanted was basically useless. there weren't any marked enchantments on it that she could see, but then, she couldn't see very well. Reaching in, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt, lifting it out. It was nondescript, to say the least. The blade appeared to be good quality steel as it wasn't rusted at all, the guard was simple, and had no ornate decorations that she could see in this light. The hilt was wrapped with what felt like braided leather, it had good weight in her hand, but was very different in design from most modern ones she'd seen. Of course, she hadn't seen many familiar weapons at all for a few years now.

 

[Saren of the Dark Path]

Everything felt like it was being experienced from the other side of an incredibly heavy filter, nothing in the world around it feeling solid or real as the small space it'd called home suddenly fell open. Was this a dream? It felt as if this had happened before.... or had it felt at all? Feeling seemed like a foreign concept. Or was it. Uncertainty and confusion that ultimately culminated in nothing came just as fast as it went. It was hard to focus on much of anything when one did not have a center.

Then there was a sudden warmth. Fingers found their way around his grip and it found itself being raised up for inspection. At first it blended into the same grimey nothing that most thoughts had gone to for who knows how long. Then it kicked in. The spark. It connected to a living thing, a medium, and through this stranger came the spark of awareness. It still did not remember things. It wasn't sure where it was, who it was or why it was this way now. It couldn't remember a simple thing but it did know how to think. Relieved to have the simple gift of sentience again that it spoke without much thought. In the mind of it's medium a single word rang out, spoken with the voice of a boy. Hello!

 

[Minibit]

Hello!

Elenora jumped, the distracted twitch of her hand sending the sword to the earthen floor with a clatter of steel on stones. A voice, not her own, and not of anyone she knew, rang out in her head, distinct, and separate from her mental ponderings about the antiquated steel. Listening to her thoughts, she was used to. When stealth was a necessity, talking to oneself, or making any noises for that matter, was generally best avoided. She looked around, although she knew in the back of her head that the voice hadn't come from anyone in the room; she was certainly alone. Well, physically, at least.

Scolding herself, she gave her head a shake, brushing one of her multiple braids behind her ear as she reached down to pick up the sword again. Her pace was still jumping, and there was sweat on her palm as she looked at both sides of the double-edged blade.

"How in the world", she thought to herself "Am I supposed to end it with this?"