Ch4: The warmth of a Stranger

The Sword. The Travelers. The Stranger.

Her heart was beating rapidly as she opened her eyes, she swore, she had fallen asleep even though she promised herself that she wouldn’t. The sun was long up and she couldn’t find a single reason for why Father would have let her sleep this long. He, who usually was so strict, so firm about never oversleeping, always to be on time, had let her sleep well past dawn. She would have usually rejoiced over the idea of catching another few hours of sleep, but today, when it really mattered, she cursed wildly as she put on her best boots and braided her hair. Halfway outside the door she swore once again out of frustration, she had forgotten something quite vital…
Her shirt.

Rhonda was breathing heavily as she swung the door open to Father’s smith. The air was thick with heat and she could hear the familiar sound of the hammer against the anvil. When he looked up to see who entered he saw her daughter, red faced and with eyes that said one thing only: she was not amused… He looked down again to focus on the work, which today could have been a simple day’s work, but Darius was not much for making things easy. The blade he worked on was just an ornament sword that the mayor had asked, and paid handsomely for. The blade would never see battle, but Darius did not care. He made each of his tools and weapons as if they were to face hell and still be of use. The blade was by all means nice to look at, but if you were to see it in the hands of your opponent, it’d put fear in your heart. The blade was a masterpiece, weapons and especially swords had always been Darius’ passion. It was not the average slash blade, it had a sharp edge and a sturdy parry side, the sharp end had a small curve upwards with barbs for extreme damage to the flesh and entrails, which ended with such a sharp end that it hurt only to look at it. The entire sword was covered with Runes in deep black, stamped into the metal itself.

Rune craft allowed a smith to enhance his work with powers to make them indestructible, untouchable to time’s toll and even more, if you were willing to learn. The craft had taken years and years for Darius to learn, with a mentor who’s discipline were to be matched with the Monks who lived in the deep mountains.  The time was well spent though, now his blades were the sharpest, his metal, the hardest, and his knowledge the greatest within this part of the world.

He was now making a finishing touch, and, even if he never would admit it, he was experimenting. He wanted it to make an impression to those who saw it, and he thought he knew how…  There was a technic that his mentor had been trying to teach him when his mentorship so suddenly… ended. The runes were hard to interpret, and each line had a thousand meanings, depending on the combinations.

He let a small grunt escape him as the final rune was stamped into the cooling metal and he felt calmness surge through his body as he grabbed the blade. Darius smiled at the emotion, he had succeeded; now this blade would calm its wielder no matter the situation… but what happened next was beyond what he imagined…  A blue glow started to shimmer along the blade, erupting from the hilt, slowly reaching out towards the sharp edge. Darius swung the blade and found it with amazing balance, this was truly his finest work.

Rhonda peeked from the counter at her father’s latest work. The blade was truly a masterpiece belonging with the legend, beyond anything he had ever done, and now it would spend the rest of eternity in a fat mayor’s office…  She sighed, she had never understood why he had wished for this life, making tools and ornaments in a small village, when his work could have been praised all over the world.  Rhonda asked herself for the millionth time what Marles had to offer her in the future. Would she too become one of the housewives to one of the townsmen? Or maybe even to a councilmember? She shuddered at the thought of the fat bellied men in the council, who had more hair on their back than on their head… Maybe she would inherit the smith his father…  No, she couldn’t think like that. Her father was still strong… and with plenty of hair on his head….

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her curiosity built about the blade in her father’s hand.
“That blade, it’s special, isn’t it?”
Her Father looked up, the blade still at hand, and faced her daughter.
“The runes within it is connected with its wielder, and only when he or she is in complete balance with him- or herself can the blade reach it’s true potential. When it’s at balance, it’s quicker, lighter, truer and far deadlier, because it also means that the wielder, is in full control. The blade shines of blue, when it’s at home. “

Her eyes widened as he spoke, never had she thought her father’s talents to extend to this point. To her, the blue shine had only been another piece of the ornament. This was… magical, yet she dared not say the word at his presence. He had tried to explain the difference between what he did, and what magic was when she had asked many years ago.
The basics of it had been this:
Runes take their strength from certain sources, depending on what rune. Strengthening metal has their source in the metal itself, while some drain power from the user, and the most advanced runes takes their energy from the target. Those who uses runeweapons does not need knowledge about these types of sources to use the weapon, the only one who needs to know is the runecrafter himself.
Magic is a much different matter. To use magic, you need to build up a different type of energy within yourself to even be able to grasp the art of magic. Each time you use from this pool, it drains you, and will destroy you if not used carefully. It cannot be used without training, and even after years it would still drain you even with the simplest of spells. Her father had described this craft as a mad-man’s work, and that only a true fool can master the arts.
Rhonda had learned never to bring the subject up again.

Darius held the shining blade towards the light, the runes showing clearly, he thought for a name. A name fitting a masterpiece. He turned it, let it shine from new angles, trying to catch the meaning of the sword he had created , and just as he was about to abandon the quest, the name hit him.
“Vicis.”
The name made the entire sword to hum in approval.
Vicis had awoken.

Both father, as daughter jumped when a boy of 14 ran straight through the door, breathing heavily,  and making little sense.
“The riders, m’lord! The riders!”
Rhonda could almost hear her heart racing, could he mean…?
“I am no lord of yours, nor are you a squire, so cut the nonsense. What matter are you speaking of, boy? I have little time for babbling fools!” His voice was rough and irritated to any but Rhonda, she knew he was only entertaining himself by messing with the boy’s head.
The boy gulped, stared with blood red cheeks at the big smith who was now towering over him, sword in hand.
“The…erhm…. T-there’s r-riders coming in from the east, m’lord” His eyes went big as he slipped his tongue, and as Darius took another step towards him, he scrambled to get out the door as fast as his feet could.  By the time the sound of his running feet faded, both father and daughter was crying from laughter.

By the time that the riders were spotted by the villagers, they had gathered quite an audience. Villagers, shopkeepers, farmers and councilmember, medicine men, and rambling fools, all had come to meet the riders. Rumors was running wild about who they might be, traders, outlaws,  travelers,  but in all honesty: no one had a single clue.  Not even Rhonda knew, even after her encounter during the night… yet, her heart was beating faster than it had ever done before… what was happening to her?

As the riders grew bigger in the distance, the mayor, sitting on a fat horse which seemed to fit the obese man on top of it, rode forward to greet them, followed by two council members. Rhonda’s heart was quickening even further, would he recognize her?  Would he greet her..? No, of course not… They had agreed…  She sighed… So many confusing feelings inside of her…

The Mayor rode forward further, meeting the riders at a safe distance. As they met, all five of them stopped, stood in place for some short seconds, then headed back for town. The Mayor rode first, with the riders behind him. If only she could get a glimpse of him…  

As they reached the village, the Mayor waved a hand towards the two riders.
“These two men are travelers, and should be treated with all the respect of Marles. They of course will be staying in the Mayor Mansion and…”
“Actually, sire, we’d very much prefer our own camp, we will have it set up before twilight falls.”
The voice was rough and stern, yet in no way unfriendly… yet it was not his voice…
“Nonsense my boy, nonsense… I’ll have some of our finest men set up this camp of yours in no time!” The Mayor’s voice was prickled with pride, most likely because of his title as “Sire”, Rhonda only found it amusing, the fat man was truly easily pleased…
The traveler seemed to accept the offer, and as soon as the jobs had been appointed, the Mayor invited the travelers into his… so called mansion for breaking their fast with him. Rhonda guessed that this was partly a courtesy from the Mayor’s part, partly to save the strangers from the farmers curious looks and questions, but mostly because he himself wanted to ask said questions first.
She didn’t even get a glimpse of him… She sighed as she returned with Father…

Darius smiled a proudly as the Mayor unsheathed Vicis before the council, glowing a faint blue, not anywhere the strong glow it had when Darius had grabbed. The council was struck with awe at the sight, even if Rhonda had to hold back her laughter as the fat, bald man held the sword, the scene was just too comical.

“You truly outdid yourself this time Mr. Jones! You truly did!” said the man holding the blade, the rest of the council nodding in agreement,  but on the other hand, Rhonda thought, these men would agree with anything the Mayor said.
“It was all my pleasure, sire, all for the good spirit of the Council.”
“Truly…” The Mayor gave Father a suspicious, it was unlike Darius to speak so… formal…  but Rhonda realized that her Father only teased him the slightest, by adding another comical touch to the already hilarious display of human delusion.

Rhonda could hold her tongue nor curious mind no longer.
“Mr. Mayor, where may the strangers be at?” Her voice sounded small in this hall of men, foolish even coming from a smith’s daughter…
“Rhonda, this is not the…” Her Father injected, shooting a sharp, yet discreet, glance her way.
“Oh Darius, she’s just a curious little girl….” She felt sick as he said it like that… and the way he looked at her only made it worse... The disgusting little git probably got a stiffy under the table right this moment... if he could get it up, that is…
He continued.
“Well, the strangers, Darwin and Marwin are currently at their camp, resting from their travels, and for the great feast in their honor tonight!” He smiled his disgusting, rotting smile again at her, eying her once more all over, before he directed his gaze to her unnoticing Father.
“That actually brings me to my next point, the feast are mostly for the councilmembers and our families… but seeing your work here today, and years of faithful service for Marles, we’d like to officially invite you both over for this grandiose feast. Tonight.”
The moment Darius saw the grin and pleading eyes of his daughter, he knew he was defeated.

She walked into her Father’s room, where he lay on the plain featherbed, dressed and ready. As she entered he was stunned, utterly stunned by what he saw.
She was getting nervous where she stood in the entrance, worried about his silence… Rhonda had found the dress far tucked away… She had never seen it before.  It was brightly green, with white details showering over her shoulder down her front and back, in the pattern of flowers.
“Well…? What do you think…?” She laughed nervously…
“You… look just like your mom…” He smiled brightly, yet his eyes sparkled with the memory of his wife... Rhonda looked so much like her this moment, wearing her wedding dress and all…
Rhonda had only seen her Father this emotional a handful of times… she knew not how to react… so she sat down next to him…
“You look like the day I met her… She was just so beautiful…  and it makes my heart break not to be able to hold her in my arms… ever again…”
She hugged him, and a single tear forced its way down her cheek, ´but his had dried up long ago…

They entered the hall and was astounded to see it bathe in light, candles lit every corner and people was mingling in heaps…  yet people seemed to avoid Darius and his daughter. They simply did not fit. The only person who seemed interested in the newly arrived was the Mayor, of course…  He was always close by Rhonda, giving her compliments at all time, and she accepted them with courtesy, if nothing more. That’s when the door opened and the two men walked in.

The older of them had a bright mane of golden hair, sparkling blue eyes that looked like the river water during the summer heat, a smiling mouth and a strong jaw, and a strong body which showed years of hard work and it had rewarded with muscles that showed even through the fabric of the suit, yet it was not him that Rhonda’s eyes reached for.

The younger brother, because they were obviously related, wore very strong traits to his brother, with the exception of the black raven hair on his head. He too had a sparkling eyes, but they were a deeper shade of blue, and they were darting around the room, analyzing its guests and hosts… He too wore a muscular body, although his was slim, slender muscular in defiance to his brother’s big bulky once…
Simply said, Rhonda couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
And as his eyes met her, she knew.
This was the man from the shore.

The brothers greeted all of the guests in turn, starting from the end of the hall to the part in which the mayor and the Jones stood, Rhonda’s heart beating furiously with each second that the men came closer...

Then, as they finished small talking and shaking hands with the couple to their left, the brothers came to them.
“Marwin Caretto but you can call me Marwin, my sweet Lady”  The blonde man had a firm handshake and a bright smile.
“Rhonda Jones” She said shortly, only having eyes for the black haired brother, and as the brother stepped aside to greet her Father, the younger brother stood before her.
Rhonda reached out to shake his hand, but as he grasped it, he took it to his lips and gave it a gently kiss.
“Hello my lady”
“Hello stranger”
“Call me Darwin”