AKU-STORIES

Happy New Year!

2012-01-04T12:41:00.001+08:00

Hello everyone.
It's 2012 and I am back for another year worth of stories.
No. I'm not going to post a new story now. I have only just begun to write them down.
I'm simply here to wish everyone Happy New Year and I hope 2012 will be a prosperous year for everyone, that is if it doesn't end by December.
Anyway,
This will be a short post.
I hope you enjoy the stories I've posted here and look forward to more stories in the near future.
Which, I believe would be...
In February ;)

So, once again. Happy New Year!

See you guys Next Year

2011-12-31T00:00:00.000+08:00

This post will only be brief.
Since we are at the end of 2011,
I just wanted to say...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Good Bye 2011!!
Hello 2012!

May it be a prosperous year for everyone!

This blog will be on holiday until sometime in January, so until then!

Have a fun and great New Year!

Ganz-1

The Illusion Sword part 5

2011-12-23T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"Iknow you, Varin. I know your revenge, I know your pain. I am here to help you.Please, let me help you" said the voice.

Varin stopped struggling."How did you know?" he said, still unable to believe what he had justheard.

"I know many things, Varin.I know all about you and your past. I know what happened to your father, Varin.You want revenge? So do I. Together, we will be invincible, Varin" saidthe voice.

Varin gulped. Slowly, he beganto calm down. "What can you do for me?" he said to the voice.

The voice laughed. "Power,Varin. I can give you that. Don't you want it? You want power to take revengeon your father's killer, am I right? I can give you that power and more"said the voice.

Varin stopped. Power. Thethought of it floods his mind. Empowered by the thought of taking his revengeon the crippled man, his father'skiller, Varin began to wish for it. Power. Yes, he needs it.

"Fine. Give this power tome" said Varin.

The voice laughed. "As youwish" it said and instantaneously the black mist surrounding Varincontracts and entered every hole on his body.

Varin trembled as the mistforced its way into his body. Unable to contain it, he screamed, to the top ofhis lungs. Alerting everyone inside and outside the house. Lights came aliveand the once dark house erupted with lights both inside and outside. Clankingsound of the guards footsteps echoed into the hallways and the study room.

Varin held his arms. His eyesburns. His sight changed from darkness to blood red. His emotion swelled. Hismind blanked. He clenched his arm tight. His chest expands as does his muscles.

He screamed.

And the dark mist blanketed thewhole house.

The guards stuck to their spot,unmoved. The boy stopped midway from falling to the floor, floating in the airas if he was a paint on a canvas. The fires lighting the hallway and the otherrooms in the house froze. Everything came to a halt.

The only one moving was Varin.

And his eyes burns bright red.

Breathing as if he had been on along run, he pulled the sword from its sheath, releasing another blast of thedark mist into the house. "I've been waiting for this moment tocome!" said Varin. His maniacal laugh filled the house. Varin dragged thesword towards the boy and looked down to him. "You shouldn't have snuckinto this room, boy. Too bad for you" he said and slashed down at theboy's throat. He watched the boy's head moved only slightly away from his neck,bloodless and emotionless. He clicked his tongue and turned his focus towardsthe guards bursting through the door. "And you all are in the way, getlost" he said and slashed across the chest of the first guard, slicing himin half before proceeding towards the other guards, slicing them off one byone.

Varin held his hand out towardsthe sword's sheath and watched it flew towards his hand. Carefully, he slidesthe sword back into the sheath and gave the room a final look. His eyes burnsbright red. He carved a smile and left the building through the front door,unaware by everyone.

The hot ray from the sunstartled Varin from his sleep. He woke up and quickly looked at himself. Heplaced his hands on his chest and felt his heart beating. Nothing. He lookedaround at the trees around him, worried about the dream he had before when hissight fell upon the sword in the shiny black sheath lying on the grass next tohim.

Varin's eyes widened.

He shot up and backed away fromthe sword, almost stumbling on the root of a tree. His heart race. The imagesfrom his dream flashed in his mind. The boy and the guards. He stomachquenched. He cupped his mouth, but the thought was uncontainable.

So he vomit.

Varin wiped his mouth and triesto find his way out of the forest when he came upon a ledge. He made his waytowards it and was shocked at what lies in front of his eyes.

It was the city of Jarmir.

Only it had been destroyed.

Completely.

Black smokes rose into the airfrom the debris of the once proud port city. Its high buildings flattened, itsport sunken, its road painted red and black.

Varin slumped to the grass,unable to believe what was in front of him.

"I..."

His sight blurred. Emotionsswelled inside him. He tried to contain them, but the trail of warm tears brokehis wall and he wept. He looked to the destroyed city again and the image ofKaleem's smile and his brothers laughter played in his mind. He looked to hishands.

"What have I done!" hescreamed.

The Illusion Sword part 4

2011-12-16T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

A column oflight from another hole told Varin wherehe was. He stopped underneath it and peeked out through the hole. A light shonedirectly above the hole, while the sound of armors clanking told him that it'sthe outside compound of the house. So he is on the right track. He smiled andmake his way deeper into the sewer.

The sewage cover jerked andslides to one side on the grass. Varin pulled himself up and quickly replacedthe lid back to its place. The lack of lighting on the eastern end of thecompound gave him the perfect cover for his intrusion. That and the fact thatit is the closest to the river canals means that the patrol had to walk theentire length of the small dock behind the house before they return, whichgives Varin ample time to cover his tracks.

He jumped into the bushes by theside of the house and lay flat on his back looking directly up to the roof ofthe house and the dark night sky.

"That's going to be onehell of a climb" Varin thought. He peeked through the bushes in case thepatrol came back but saw no one. With only a few hours left before dawn breaks,Varin quickly raced towards the house wall and began his climb towards itsroof.

Varin rolled himself onto theroof and let out a long sigh of relief. His fingers stiffened from the sheerclimb and his lungs were burning from the fatigue. He coughed as light as hecould, trying not to make as much sound as he possible could. Slowly, he pushedhimself up and moved his fingers to lighten the stiffness.

He made his way towards thewindow on the roof that leads to the attic of the house and peeked inside. Noone, he thought and smiled. He pulled out a small metal and pried the lock fromthe window. It gave way and the window swings open. Varin slips inside, landingon the wooden floor with a light thump. He closed his eyes for a few seconds,giving it time to adjust to the darkness and reopened them again to have abetter view of the room.

After wading through the boxesand chests, Varin crept towards the door and pushed it open. With the occupantsout, most of the lights in the house had been turned off. Varin used this tohis advantage and quickly make his way towards the room at the end of thehallway, the study room.

He eyed the stairs as his handsgrabbed the door knob and began picking the lock at lightning speed. A clickingsound from the knob gave Varin the signal that he had succeed. He turned thedoor knob and swings the door open, only to came face to face with a young boy,twice younger than he is sitting at the table at the center of the room holdinga book in his hands.

"Who-"

But before the boy could finish,Varin had already leaped towards him and covered his mouth. The boy struggled,trying to free himself, but Varin being older and stronger, overpowered theboy. He pulled the parchment of his robe he used to cover his mouth before andtied it around the boy's mouth, shutting him up. Varin then turned the boylying face down and tied his hands behind his back with another parchment ofhis robe. Deep in his heart, Varin is already regretting his action.

"Damn it! No one told meabout this!" he said to himself. He turned the boy around and slapped himacross the face. "Shut up kid! Or I can't guarantee your life" hesaid.

The boy glared at him with eyesfilled with anger. Varin looked away. He is not here to argue or harm the kid.He is here for one thing. He looked upand the sight of the sword in the shiny black sheath fell to his sight.

Varin wanted to gasped but allhe could do was stare at the sword in awe.

Something inside him stirred.Varin stood, as if called upon, and made his way towards the sword. He gulped.Hesitated at first, he laid his fingers on the shiny sheath, feeling the coldnessseeping into the tip of his fingers as it travels up his arm.

"You must be Varin" Avoice spoke in his mind.

Varin spun around, but there wasno one in the room except for him and the boy he tied up earlier.

"I have been waiting foryou, Varin" said the voice again. This time, Varin pulled his hand awayfrom the sword and looked everywhere in the room. Still nothing.

"Is this some kind of atrick?" said Varin. His voice slightly louder. He turned to the boy andgrabbed him by his collar. "What is the meaning of this?" he said tothe boy.

But the boy said nothing. Onlyshaking his head.

Irritated, Varin slammed the boyto the table. He snatched one of the letter opener from the edge of the tableand slammed its sharp edge next to the boy's head, barely missing his ear. Theboy looked to the letter opener and then back to Varin, without flinching.

Varin clenched his teeth. Hetook a deep breath and pushed away the anger swelling in him. Kaleem's wordscame back to his mind and calmed his thoughts. After having his thoughts calmeddown, Varin turned back towards the sword. "I just need to grab this andgo" he said and laid his fingers on the sword's sheath.

But soon enough, dark mist rosefrom the sword and grab hold of Varin's arm. It traveled up towards his bodybefore engulfing it full. Varin tried to scream, only to realized that he couldnot. So he tried to pull his hand away from the sword, but it was stuck, as ifheld down by the dark mist.

"Shit!"

"Do not panic, Varin"

Varin's eyes widened.

"I am the sword you areholding and I mean you no harm" said the voice.

Varin gulped. He wanted to run,but how could he when he could not even pull his hands away from the sword.

The Illusion Sword part 3

2011-12-09T13:46:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"Youdid a good job there delaying the man long enough for us to take him down"said Kaleem. A whisper that made Varin smiled.

"Drive your emotion, don'tlet it drive you... right?" said Varin tired.

Kaleem smirked. "True, kid.True" he said.

Varin stood at the ledge of thetower looking at the tiny speck of people underneath him moving around likeants. Chilling winter breeze pushed his long dark hair back, dancing to thewind's tune. He closed his eyes and let the tranquility wrapped him like a bubble.

"This will be your firstmission" a voice came out from behind him, yet he chose to ignore it. Thetranquility is far more important to him right now. He held a finger up, andthe voice stopped. He could not remember much of what had happened in the pastyear, but he knows that now, he had the mean to track his father's killer. Heopened his eyes again and took a deep breath before turning to face the voicebehind him.

"Like I said, this will beyour first mission. The master has asked me to oversee your progress and helpyou should anything arises" said the man with the usual smile on his face.His green and blue eyes reflected brilliantly by the sun. "Can you doit?" he said. The cracks and crevices on his face stretched. In his handsat a black envelope with the seal of the Master on it.

Varin approached the man. Hepulled his hood up, covering his face from the man's view, leaving only hisglittering eyes. "Leave it to me" he said simple. "It's good tosee you again, Kaleem" he said. His eyes glared at the flailing sleeve byKaleem's side before grabbing the envelope from Kaleem's hand.

Kaleem snorted. "Hah! Don'tget cocky kid. If you feel you can't handle it, just give me the signal."

Varin smiled underneath hishood. Just like the old Kaleem he knew.

"Don't worry. Drive youremotion, don't let them drive you, remember?" he said.

Kaleem laughed. "True, kid.Very true." he pats Varin's shoulder. "Go, kid. It's your time tofly"

Varin made his way towards thedoor in front of him before turning back towards the ledge. He crouched andwith an explosive lunge, ran towards the ledge and jumped down.

"Live free, kid" saidKaleem as Varin disappears from his view.

Varin stayed close to the crowds, avoiding thepolice on the street as much as he can. It was easier to navigate by movingwith the crowd than taking the shortest route. The rooftops were no more safer.After the guild's last mission, more police has been set up on the rooftops incase another attempt to break into the royal chambers were to occur. He stayedclose to the merchant tents and stalls sets on both sides of the road until hereached the building where his target resides. He slipped to the nearest darkalley and pressed his back to the walls, hiding himself in the buildingshadows, away from the eyes of the public.

He slides down to a sit andproduced the envelope given to him by Kaleem.

It was sealed in black wax withthe emblem of a dagger stabbing a falcon. The emblem of the Master, the leader of the Guild of Assassins.

He ran his finger underneath theslip and pried it open. He pulled the letter inside and read its content.

"A sword, huh. So it's nota person. That's a relief." said Varin after skimming through the contentof the letter. "Third floor, left wing room with door guarded by twoarmored guards. No occupants for the night. Great, that'll make thingseasier." He folds the letter and replaced it back into its black envelope.

Night fell quickly in the city.Merchants and their worker had mostly fled the streets leaving it empty andtaken over by homeless and the chilling breeze from the sea. Varin leaned onthe alley wall and wait for the first patrol to past him before slipping out.His black robe masked him well, especially with the streets lacking any sourceof light except for the several places like bars and inns.

Varin stopped in another darkalley looking directly at a large house surrounded by tall fences and guards."That must be the house" he said and pulls out the envelope again.After assuring himself it was the target house, he slips into the shadows onthe night and crept his way towards the west end of the house where the lightwere scarce.

He looked up at the tall fencein front of him and then at the guards just beyond it.

Varin recalled the map of thebuilding again. "There should be a sewage hole somewhere nearby." hesaid as his eyes, already adjusted to the darkness of the night, searched forthe sewage cover around the area. He crept towards the farther end where theroad meets the river and came to the sewage cover he was looking for. Takingone more look at the patrol in the compound of the house and the open areabehind him, Varin held his breath and pulled the heavy cover open. He placed itnext to the hole and wiped the sweat from his face.

Varin looked down the dark holeand cringed at the smell coming from it. "I hate doing this" he saidand jumped down.

The dank smell of feces andevery thinkable waste felt like a spear to Varin's nose. He held his breath,breathing only through his mouth that he covered with a parchment of his robe.He made his way around the corners and bend, moving towards the underside ofthe house he was supposed to break into.

The Illusion Sword part 2

2011-12-02T13:44:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"Thiswill be your first test" said Kaleem as he ushered Varin into a emptybuilding. "You will need to "defeat" someone before you are can pass the first phase of yourinitiation. Remember what you have been taught. Use your opponent, never theother way around". He pats Varin's shoulder and kicked his back.

Varin stumbled forward and fellsprawled on the dusty floor. The door behind him closed shut and a small windowopened. "Drive your feelings, Varin, never let it drive you" saidKaleem from behind the door. A piece of metal slides and shuts the window,leaving the room grayed with only patches of light penetrating it.

Varin picked himself up anddusts his body. He coughed, but it was halted by a strange thumping sound. Helooked around and above, nothing. The sound boomed and the walls felt like itwas shaking in fear. Varin gulped, his fists clenched and ready.

The wall to his left exploded andan enormous figure barged in roaring like wild animal. It raised its hands andbegan to pounce every single thing it could reach. Thundering sound of chainsbanging at each other and at the walls explodes inside the room.

Varin rolled, avoiding a fallingwooden pillar. He spins himself to a crouch and jumped up the destroyed pillarlaunching himself towards the figure with his fist poised to strike.

The metal plate slides open andKaleem peeked inside the dust filled room. He slides the metal plate to a shutagain and pulled the door open. The dusts quickly filled his nostril and lungs,forcing him to cough hard. He wave his hand around as he step inside.

"Kid?" he said.

Kaleem could feel a slightmovement in the air in front of him. He frowned. "Kid?" he called outagain.

A dark figure appeared from thedusts and approached Kaleem before it fell on its knees..

Kaleem approached the figure andcrouched next to it. He smiled.

"You did great, kid"he said.

Varin looked to his hands. Hisworld around him tumbled and his sight darkened.

The stinging water slapped Varinto a wake. He gasped for air and opened his eyes to see a man standing at arm'slength away from him with what he could make out as a bucket, or something. His head spins like wheels, theworld around him tumbles as he tries to regain some sort of direction to wherehe is.

"Wake up!" a voicespank his ears. He winced but could only move his eyes so much. A slap struckhis cheek but felt nothing to his numbed mind.

"Who is your target?!"said the man in front of him. The man threw the bucket away and proceed to slapVarin again on the face. "Who is your target?!" he said again.

Varin tried to look up butsomething behind his head prevented him from moving his head any further. Hecould only make out the strange drawing on the man's neck and the white pendanthanging just below it.

"Who?" said Varinweak. He coughed and spat to the ground. Even that was a work for him. Hewinced and let his head hang down. Tired.

"Insolent fool! You can'twin against us!" the man punched Varin in the face, sending him flyinghalfway across the room.

The fall pulled the air fromVarin's lung but the smooth cold floor gave him relief to his pain. He coughedand smiled, hidden from the man's view.

The man came closer and grabbed Varin by his hair. He tugged him upand sat him back up. "Tell me whois your target and I will spare your life. It's not worth it, you are not oneof them yet. You can still back away." said the man, his voice milder witha touch of kindness.

But Varin could only smirk. If acrooked smile can be counted as a smirk.

"I'm sorry" he saidand gave out a weak laugh.

Immediately after saying thewords, another slap came to Varin's face, sending his head snapped to one side.Yet he laughed. Even louder than before.

The man grunts and punched Varinin the stomach, pushing air out of his lungs. Varin gasped and coughed. It waslike someone rammed the trunk of a tree to him. "Shit, that hurts"said Varin in his head.

"Again, I ask you. Who isyour target!" said the man. No longer the kind voice he was earlier.

Yet Varin persisted. He onlycarved what could be thought of as a smile on his bruised face."You..." he said slow.

"What?" said the manand bend forward. His face now visible to Varin.

Varin smiled again.

"You"

Kaleem undid the chains aroundVarin's hands and pulled the metal bar that was strapped to his back. Heshouldered Varin and escorted him out of the prison while the other members ofthe Guild acted as watchmen.

The Illusion Sword part 1

2011-11-25T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

THEILLUSION SWORD

The door to the bar creaked. Thebuzzing sound of people talking at the top of their lungs filled Varin's earsas he walked inside. He swept the place twice before making his way towards thebartender at the counter.

The bartender looked to Varinthrough his monocles and then turned back to the glass he's cleaning. He placedthe glass on the counter and asked "What do you want?".

Varin squeezed himself between the otherpatrons at the counter and sat on the hard wooden stool . He looked aroundagain before bending forward and whispered to the bartender. "I'm lookingfor information" he said and sat back straight.

The bartender looked to him withan emotionless face. His eyes glared around before finally giving Varin thesignal to come closer with his finger. "What do you want to knowabout?"

Varin pressed his head closer."I'm looking for the crippled man"

The bartender's eyes caughtsomething behind Varin's back and he sprang back. He coughed and continue topolish another glass from the rack behind him.

"You, kid" a rough voicecaught Varin from behind. "I heard you're looking for someone" . Thebar's hectic noise silenced.

Varin turned to face a muscularman in his late forties with one patch over his eye. "I think we both needto have a talk" said the man with a smile on his face. His robe coveredmost of his body except for one arm.

"And what if Irefuse?" said Varin. His face hardened.

Yet the man's smile never fade."Oh, I doubt you would refuse me." he groped into his robe andproduced a small piece of paper with picture of a hooded man holding a cane onone hand on it. "You are looking for this man, correct? So do we" hesaid.

Varin grits his teeth.

The man's smile turns to grin."I thought so. Come, follow me." The man placed the picture back intohis robe and pulled his hood up. He glared at the patrons of the bar anddisappeared outside.

Varin shot from his seat andthanked the bartender before disappeared following the man outside.

The bartender sighed as hewatched Varin disappeared. "I pity the boy"

Varin stepped outside and sawthe man fled to a nearby alley, away from the crowded streets and the eyes ofthe polices patrolling the city. He trailed the man and went inside the alleyonly to be surrounded by similarly cloaked man all with their hoods coveringtheir faces.

"What is the meaning ofthis?" said Varin. He glared at the hidden faces surrounding him. Hishands clenched tight, ready for whatever is coming. His heartbeat races but hisface showed no aggression. Only a frown.

"I'm sorry, but this isjust customary for us. They don't mean you any harm, that is, unless you areintending to harm any of us." said the man. He turned around, and pulledhis hood away, revealing his face yet again, this time darker and somewhatmenacing.

"Who are you people?" said Varin.His sights jumps from one man to the other.

The old man smiled. The deepcracks and crevices on his face stretched and contracts. He gave a bow to Varinand the others followed.

"An Naqabath ManHashshashin" said the old man.

"The Guild ofAssassins" said Varin. His face grimmed. His heartbeat raced. A tinysilver bead slides down from his forehead and fell to the cold cobblestone roadbelow.

Varin's words took the man bysurprise. He looked to the others just as they to him. "So you knew?"he said.

"I know the name,yes."

The smile in the old man's facedisappeared. "This is surprising." He glared to the others but no onemade any movement. "Doesn't matter. We both have the same objective."He holds out the piece of paper with the picture of the crippled man."This man."

Varin grabbed the picture fromthe man and pulls it close to his face. The frown on his forehead deepened. Heburned the image of the man deep in his mind as it recalls the death of hisfather. Varin closed his eyes and with trembling hands, returned the pictureback to the old man.

"So, I see that you havebeen hurt by this man. Then will you join us?" said the old man.

Varin clenched his hands. Thethought of his dead father dominated his mind. The burnt corpse, the destroyedbar. Everything.

He reopens his eyes again andlooked at the old man with a fierce gaze. "I'll do it."

The old man smiled. "Good.My name is Kaleem. And these are my brothers" said the old man as he waveshis hand towards the others surrounding Varin.

The Cursed Sword part 5

2011-11-18T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

For amoment everything came to a stop. The dogs stopped barking as they glide in theair while the horse the commander rode stopped neighing all together.

The commander pulled the rein tohis horse only to have it snapped. He turned to his horse and saw its headsliding down from its neck. Blood flew into the air like fountains before thehorse slumped to the ground, taking the commander with it.

Kif watched the dogs explodesinto chunks of tiny pieces. Blood spattered his face and clothes, but it onlymade him hunger for more. With one hand, he sat his sword on his shoulder andmake his way towards the guards who were helping their commander back to hisfeet.

"You won't get away withthis! Men! Attack!" the commander unsheathed his sword from its sheath anddashed towards Kif. Roar and shouts accompanied him as he sliced down at Kif.

Kif spins his body to one sideand raised his sword to meet with the commander's blade. The clash explodes theair, sending the commander flying towards the incoming guards, toppling themlike bended grasses.

Kif lunged towards the downed guards and slashed at them with hissword before vaulting over them towards a fleeing guard. He spins and slashedthe air in front of him, sending the same red aura that killed the horse andthe dogs towards the guard. The aura went through the guard and forest was oncecovered by the sound of the roaring waterfall.

Kif closed his eyes.

"Go away" he said inhis head.

The red mists swirls around himand retract back towards the sword's blade edge where it disappeared.

Kif replaced the sword back intothe black cloth behind him and sighed. He looked to the darkening sky above andthen to his blood stained hands. What amI becoming? His mind retraced backto the fateful day where his life changed forever.

"DOIT KIF!"

"DOIT! KILL HIM!" said the voice in his head.

Kifclosed his eyes and screamed. He slashed the sword across Gus' neck and watchedwith blurry eyes his friend's head flopped to the ground, followed by his body.His limbs limped and he to fell on his knees. The sword in his hand hums, as iflaughing. The red mists gathers around his body, swirling and dancing to thehum of the sword. Kif felt another surge of power rushing into his body. Itpropelled the voice in his head so loud, he could barely hear the explosioncoming from the entrance door.

Guardsin white armors rushed into the room each with spears in their hands. Theclunking sound of their feet and armors reverberate inside the room. A largeman, face hidden behind his golden helm approached Kif with a sword in hishand.

"You!You're the son of Magistrate Calgaster! Explain what happened here!" saidthe man.

Kiflooked up to the man. His fingers tapped the hilt of the sword. "Shutup" he said.

"Whatdid you say?" said the man ready to bend down and grabbed Kif.

But Kifhad already made his move.

Withone hand, he swings the sword and sat it on his shoulder and looked to theguards in front of him. Behind him, the man froze, halfway bending forward withhis eyes bulging.

"Youbore me" said Kif. He took a step forward and the man behind him explodes.He turned his eyes to the guards in front of him, all pointing their spears tohim. "Who's next?" he said.

"NO!!"Kif's voice explodes, pushing everything else into the realm of whispers andwinds. Immediately the red mists around his body erupted to every direction.Kif to the ground, unmoved. The swordclank as it hits the red marble floor and silence fell into the room.

Theguards quickly took the opportunity to seize Kif and slammed him to the coldmarble floor. "Kif Calgaster, you are under arrest for the killing ofGuard Commander Harith, Gus Helfield and the House of Leaders. Everything yousaid, be it magical or non-magical will be used against you in the Court ofJustice" said one of the guard as he pulled Kif's hands to his back andcuffed him with a pair of metal cuff.

Kifcringed at the pressure by the guard on top of him. His eyes froze, unfazed bythe rough treatment of the guards as he looks directly at the eyes of his deadfriend.

"Gus.."

Kifclosed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

"Ican't go back anymore..."

He madehis way towards the waterfall and dipped his bloodied hands into the cold pool.

"Lookslike we've found the third"

A voicecaught Kif by surprise. He shot up and turned towards it. In front of him stoodtwo hooded men, one with a cane the other with a golden sword behind his back. Hefrowned and slowly groped for the sword behind his back.

"Youwon't be able to do anything to us, kid" said the man with the cane. Hepoints to the large black broadsword behind him. "We're brothers" hesaid and one of his eyes glowed red. The man with the golden sword behind himlooked up revealing a red glow underneath his hood as well.

The Cursed Sword part 4

2011-11-11T13:36:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"Gus!"Kif called out again. He jumped down a story and did a side roll beforelaunching himself back to chasing after his friend. "Don't do it! Fightthe sword!" he said.

It was then that Gus stopped midair. People on the streets began to gather, all looking at the him as he floatsin the sky. Shrieks and whispers all converge towards him. Gus turned aroundand looked towards Kif, no longer the once chubby boy he knew. His blood redeyes glowed as he tightened his grip around the sword's hilt. An evil grinbroke on his face as he suddenly lowered himself to a squat and wrapped hishand and sword around his neck.

Kif eyes widened. He turned tothe people gathering on the streets below and shout. "Everyone! moveaway!" Yet his calling only made them even more curious. Some werepointing fingers while others looked with awe in their face.

The grin on Gus' facedisappeared and he slashed down his sword towards Kif and the people on thestreet.

"Shit!" Kif launchedhimself into the air and landed on the roof of the house across him as the redaura coming from Gus' slash penetrates the building behind him and the peopleon the street. Kif looked up to Gus ashe turns towards the Central Building again. "Gus! No!"

Kif pushed himself up andstomped hard on the building's ledge. Rumbles of the destroyed building behindhim drummed as chaos and panicked broke on the streets. He pushed himself upinto the air as hard as he could and grabbed hold on to Gus' waist, pulling himdown.

Gus glared at Kif with his rubyred eyes. He clicked his tongue but carved an evil grin. The red mists aroundhis body spreads down and began to surround Kif.

A strange feeling enveloped Kifas the red mists engulfs half of his body. The veins on his arms turnedblack while in his mind, a voice spoke.It called to him, tempting him with the thought of power. Kif held his breathand screamed to the top of his lung.

As if shocked by Kif's reaction,the red mists backed away but not breaking Kif's hold on Gus' waist.

"Oh, shit!" said Kifas the image of Gus floating above him shrunk.

Kif startled and realized he hadfallen asleep. He shut his eyes and forced them open again before slapping hisface hard with both of his hands. Hestretched his neck and body and got up. Somehow the darkness had lifted intoshades of gray but still, he could see no more than the profile of trees."At least now I have something to look at" he said and starts gropingthe profiles.

As his path turns and twists,Kif began to hear the sound of birds chirping and water bashing on rocks. Hesmiled. Hope buds in his heart. He focused his senses to his ears and nose andbegan to follow the sound of the stream.

Kif's smile broadens as thesound of the water gets louder. He pushed on, trudging through blades of tallsharp grasses and hidden muds before a ray of light bursts through the leaves afew yards in front of him. His heart jumped. The sound of the water grew likeheavy rain. Colors began to came back to his sight as he pushed the leaves andrevealed a waterfall.

"Oh, shit..." he saidwhen he saw what was waiting underneath the fall.

"Kif Calgaster, son ofMagistrate Calgaster, murderer of the House of Leaders and Gus Helfield, son ofthe Leader Helfield. You have the right to remain silence. Any words, be itmagical or non-magical will be used against you!" said a man in shiningwhite armor with a the emblem of a lion etched on its chest. Powerful was hisvoice that it cuts through the roar of the waterfall and clear caught by Kif'sears.

Kif clicked his tongue. "Icannot be caught..." his eyes firmed. He grits his teeth and let his hand touchedthe black cloth behind him.

A voice spoke in his mind.

"Use me and you can be freeagain" the voice spoke like the breeze coming from the waterfall.

Kif pulls his hand away from thecloth. His hands trembles. He glared at the gray darkness behind him. Movingback into the darkness seems to be a tempting prospect. He eyed the dogs heldon its leash barking at him from the group of guards. Maybe going back is notsuch a good idea after all, he thought. He sighed.

"Fine..." he said andgrabbed hold of the cloth behind him.

"That's it. If we worktogether, we can do anything" said the voice in his head. It gave out alaugh only Kif could hear.

Kif clicked his tongue and freedthe sword from the confines of the cloth.

Red mists swirls from the bladeedge of the sword down to the hilt and up Kif's arms. His veins turned black,his hands trembling from the power coursing through his veins. His teethclenched together as if they were glued. Kif took a deep breath and closed hiseyes.

"Help me" he said tothe voice in his head.

"As you wish" said thevoice back.

Kif opened his eyes and saweverything turned red. His surroundings blurred except for the dogs and thegroup of guards in front of him. He grinned as the red mists covers his body.The intense energy flares inside him like a tornado, turning his body lighterand boosting his senses.

The guards looked to each otherand to their commander. The man on the horse gulped. He looked to the othersand began to order them to step forward. The dogs, barking even louder thanbefore were the first to launch themselves towards Kif.

Kif smiled and slashed at thedogs before they could even reach him. The red aura from the sword spreads out,penetrating the dog and the commander's horse.

The Cursed Sword part 3

2011-11-04T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"Don'tworry about it. See this yellow cloth here?" Gus points to the yellowcloth wrapped around the hand guard and the black shiny sheath of the sword."I heard my dad said that as long as the cloth is intact, it won't harmanyone." He placed his hand on the black sheath of the sword and turned toKif with a broad smile on his face. "See?" he said with a snigger.

Kif frowned. Somehow he couldn'tfind it in his heart to mess with something everyone called a legend."So" he paused and look over his shoulder to the entrance of thechamber. "What are we going to do with it?" he said.

Gus rubbed his scarred chin."haven't thought about that yet..." he said.

Kif sighed. He should haveguessed it. Gus was never the one who'd think far into the future, he shouldhave known it. "Come on, let's just leave it there, it's gettinglate"

Gus frowned but then quicklyagrees with Kif. "Yeah, let's go back. Maybe we can come here againlater." He pats Kif's broad back and they made their way back towards theentrance of the chamber.

"Did you see that?"

Gus' words stopped Kif on histrack. He turned and saw his friend frowning at the sword behind them. Hejerked his head forward to take a look but saw nothing but the sword sleepingunder the calm lights on the wall. He frowned . "See what?" said Kif.

Gus closed his eyes and openedthem again before shaking his head. "Nothing, must've been myimagination" he said. "Let's go"

Kif rubbed his eyes. He frownedand tried to peer again into the darkness around him. Nothing...maybe it was only my imagination.

Without any direction to follow,Kif stopped and sat down on the ground. He placed his hands on the ground andgroped it, feeling the blades of grasses between his fingers and the dampedearth beneath his palm. "Where am I?" he said.

"You sure about this?"said Kif. His arm grabbed hold of the hilt, stopping Gus from pulling the swordfrom the dais. No longer the chubby boy he used to be, Kif looked at his bestfriend with firm eyes.

"Don't worry about it,we've come here how many times already, did you forget?" said Gus. Hepushed Kif's hand away and pulled the sword from its dais. "See, nothing.It's just a legend. Not every legend is true" he said. He spins the swordaround and caught it with his hand. "It's light. Here, try it" hesaid and hands the sword to Kif.

Apprehensive at first, Kifwrapped his hand around the shiny black sheath of the sword and pulls it awayfrom Gus' hand. It was indeed light, lighter in fact than it looks. Surprised,Kif gave the sword a spin and true to what Gus said, the blade felt like it wasfloating in his hand.

"Wow..." said Kif.

"Amazing, isn't it. Allthese metals and yet it's like a feather" said Gus with the same broadsmile he had years before. "Come, let me try something" he said.

Kif gave the sword back to Gus,carefully not to touch the yellow cloth.

Gus grabbed the sheath from Kifand wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword. "You think thelegend is true?" he turned to Kif.

Kif shrugged. "I don'tknow, I mean, they don't just put the stories about the sword there forfun" he said.

Gus grinned. "So, let's tryit out" he said.

"What?!" said Kif. Hetook a step back and shook his head. "Are you crazy?" he grabbed holdof Gus' hand, preventing him from pulling the sword free. "What ifsomething bad happened to us?" he said.

Gus clicked his tongue."Fine. I won't pull it." he placed the sword back on the dais and

Kif bend down and placed his earto the ground. He closed his eyes and focused all of his senses to his ear,trying to listen for any movement.

Nothing...

Kif's face contract as he triesharder to listen to even the slightest movement but still he could not hearanything, only the sound of the breeze touching the hidden trees and grasses.Something in him stirred. An uneasiness. He gulped and pulled himself back up."Fire..." he said only to realized that it is impossible to even seehis own hands let alone to start a fire in the darkness.

Kif clicked his tongue andmumbled in anger.

"Gus!"

Kif vaulted over the low barrierand jumped to the roof of the next house. He looked up every time he can, neverwanting to let Gus disappear from his sight.

Gus and the red mists coveringhim floats towards the Central Building where the city's leaders were gatheringfor their annual meeting.

The Cursed Sword part 2

2011-10-28T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

"So,kid..." Old man Chuck paused and turned his gaze to Kif who was busy withthe food. "How did you end up a fugitive anyway?" he said and took abite from the meat they had cooked.

Kif hands stopped. He gulped yethis sight stuck to the red fiery coals in front of him.

"I..."

The red mist seeped into Kif'sarm as he grabbed hold of the hilt of the sword. He could feel the powerrushing into his veins, pumping strength into his muscles, but he could alsofeel something else, a voice. It was like a whisper inside his mind, tellinghim to pull harder, that the sword belongs to him not Gus, that Gus ispossessed and needs to be cut down. As he struggles with Gus, Kif caught sightof the bodies Gus had killed and spot his own father amongst the bodies. "No..."his heart sank and his anger grew. The voice grew louder in his head, like thecommand from a puppet master, Kif yanked the sword from Gus' hands and watchedhis best friend dropped to his knees.

"Do it..." the voicein his head grew. Loud like the presence of a man behind him.

Yet Kif hesitated. He looked tohis hands as he holds tight at the sword's hilt. The power felt magnificent. Itfrees all his worries. He wanted it. He longs for it. It's his.

"No..." said Kif. Heclosed his eyes and pushed the thoughts away, and the man's voice grew lighter,like the whisper from beyond the great door behind him.

"I'm...sorry...Kif..." said Gus.

Kif opened his eyes and wasstunned to see the skin of his best friend began to crack and shrunk, likethose of gramps. Green veins popped through his skin like tiny snakes, crawlingall over his body. His chest rise and fall and his breathing coarse.

"Gus..."

Gus looked up to Kif. His sightsblurred, his eyes sunken into its sockets. "Kif...I'm sorry... "

Kif shook his head. His handsholding the sword trembled. His chest swollen by the emotion raging inside him.The voice in his head came to him again, louder this time. "Do it... hekilled your father, Kif..."

Kif screamed for the voice to goaway. "No!" He tried to throw the sword away yet somehow his handsrefused to obey his command.

"Kif... please... I can'ttake it much longer... "

Kif clenched his teeth as hetried to hold back his tears.

"Do it... Kif...please..." said Gus, his voice coarser and slower.

"Do it!" said thevoice in his head

"Please... do it..."

"Do it!"

Kif closed his eyes and gritshis teeth.

Gus looked up to the beautifulstained glass ceiling of the Hall of Leaders and smiled.

"DO IT!!"

"DO IT!! KILL HIM!!" saidthe voice inside his head.

Kif screamed and slashed Gus'neck.

The barking of dogs and voicesof men in the distance brought Kif back. He looked to Old man Chuck who wasalready on his feet. The sun above them had slipped to the west and the mood inthe forest was heavy.

"Come on, we need to gonow" said Old man Chuck. He slings a small green water flask, his onlybaggage. "Take anything you like, but remember, be as light as possible.And don't take any food with you"

Kif nodded. Two weeks already hehas been on the run since he escaped the Imperial Dungeons, a feat he could nothave accomplished had he not had the help of Old man Chuck. Kif got to his feetand went inside the rundown log cabin. He came out with a sling behind his backmade of black cloth. He then turned to Old man Chuck. "Let's go"

The two of them sets out deeperinto the jungle where the sun had disappeared and the trees bent to weirdangles. They could still hear the loud barking of dogs and the sound of menscreaming behind them as the darkness around them grew.

"Shit, this place is toodark" said Old man Chuck. He stopped and looked back to see only darkness."Kid, you here?"

But there was no reply from Kif.It was all silence.

Kif dragged his feet along as hegroped the darkness in front of him. He called out to Old man Chuck but all hecould hear were the winds slapping his face. Even the sound of the barking dogsand the shouting men that were so clear to his ear just now had disappearedcompletely when he entered the deeper part of the forest.

"So this is it... thelegendary Cursed Sword, one of the Seven Legendary Sword..." said Gus. Thebrilliant blue reflection from a nearby underwater pool illuminated the chamberlike living lights, painting the rock walls with brilliant colors of aquamarine,like the marbles from the Holy Kingdom.

"You sure we should bemessing with this thing?" said Kif a little apprehensive at the thought ofwielding a sword with 'Cursed' as its name.

The Cursed Sword part 1

2011-10-21T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

THE CURSEDSWORD

"Kif! Hurry up! We're goingto be late!"

A young boy, chubby and slowdashed across the dirt road towards his friend who was already waiting for himon top of the hill. The chubby boy heaved for air if his lungs were filled withwater. He fell to the ground on all four and coughed. "Wait" he said.

His friend dropped himself fromthe top of the fence and stood facing his chubby friend with his arms crossed."Hurry up Kif or you won't get anything for supper!" he said with asnigger. He rubbed his nose and turn his back to Kif who was still on theground heaving. "Hurry up or you'll eat my dust... and fart!" saidthe boy and laughed.

Kif clenched his fists andslammed them to the ground. Angered by the idea of not having supper, one of hismost favorite meal along with breakfast, lunch and dinner, he pushed himself upand forcefully plants his feet on the ground before breaking into a mad dash tothe top of the hill. Once on top, he plopped to the ground with his back to hisfriend.

Kif's breathing took over thesilence between the two friends.

"Hey Kif..."

Kif looked over his shoulder.His chest rises and fall like the pumps in the smithy's workshop. His friendstood with arms on his hips. His face though darkened by the setting sun behindhim, forged a wide smile. "Let's go!" he said and turned away.

Kif tried to stop him but hisfriend was on the run. He pushed himself up, despite the burning sensation onhis thighs and went after his friend. "Gus, wait for me!" he said,arms stretched towards his disappearing friend. Kif stopped. Hands to hisknees, he coughed and tried to pull as much oxygen as possible. "Gus...wait..."

Kif fell to the ground clutchinghis chest. He tried to breath in but his lungs refused. His fingers digs deepinto the dirt road as he tries to force his lungs to breath. Yet still itfailed.

"Gus..."

Kif pounced his hands on thedirt road and felt his lungs began to pumped with air. Burn by the smallrelief, he pounded again, harder this time around. The world around his shake.The dirt road cracked and split, dropping Kif into the fathomless bottom.

"Hey, kid! Wake up!"

Kif gasped. He opened his eyesand came face to face with a dirty old man. "Old man Chuck..." hesaid. The old man moved away and Kif turned his head to his surroundings. Thedark cottage welcomed his sight while the sound insects and frogs hummed hisears. The sweetness of the trees freshlycut in the evening and stacked behind his bed caught his nose. He gave himselfa slap and grimaced at the pain. This is real. This is not a dream.

"Go back to sleep, kid,it's going to be hard tomorrow..." said old man Chuck.

Kif didn't object and laid hishead back down to the flat pillow. He pulled his badly patched cloths he called a blanket and turned to face the woodencabin wall. Out in the distance, wolves howls welcoming the bright silver moon.

"Hey Kif... why do youthink no one has ever stepped into the mine?"

Kif opened his eyes and saw Gusmunching away at the grilled corn they bought from the market. He got up,brushed the dirt from his back and eyed the large gaping hole on the side ofthe mountain beyond the metal gate with the metal plate saying "DANGER. Donot enter".

He turned to Gus."Becausethere's a sign that says DANGER in capital letters? "

Gus' eyes shrunk. "You'reboring" he said. He points the half bitten corn towards the mine in frontof him. The mild evening wind blew downthe mountains with its sweet forest fragrant, pushing his red hair back. Helooked like one of the statues of the heroes in the city. "It's becausethere's a something hidden in there!" he said with a bright smile on hisface.

Kif turned his sight back to themine. "You believed those rumors?"

"Believe? I know it for afact. I've heard my dad talked about it in his secret room" said Gus as hethrows away his corn and wiped his hand with a leaf from a nearby tree.

Kif frowned. "Yourdad?"

Gus tapped Kif's shoulder andmake his way towards the metal gate. He pulled the metal sign free and threw itinto a nearby bush. "Yeah. I know dad knows about it, or else why would hetalk about it in his secret room?" he said. He pulled the rusted chain andmetal lock and gave it a closer look.

Kif approached the metal gateand glanced over his shoulder. "Wait, are we really going to go in theretoday?" he said still looking at the empty mountain road behind him. Thered sky grew darker and the chirping of birds in the forest below grew lighter."Maybe we should come again tomorrow" said Kif.

Gus looked up and turned to his back.He clicked his tongue and took another look at the lock. "Yeah, you'reright. Let me examine this lock first" he said.

Another burst of wind came downto them, colder this time as the sun in the horizon began to set and the moonmade its appearance above the darkening blue sky. Kif tapped Gus's shoulder. "Come on, let's go" he said.

Gus raised his hand, his eyesstill set to the lock. "A little bit more... okay, let's go!" he saidand left the place with Kif.

The Royal Sword part 5

2011-10-14T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Edricclenched his fists so hard it trembled. "But I could clear his name. Whywon't you let me do it?"

Jii pushed his spectacles closerto his face. "Because doing so will only incite more incident. You mustunderstand, your Highness, your father did what he did because he knew that theAltherans will attack us once again if they knew the sword exists. War willcome back to us, to our nation, our people. We cannot let that happen."said Jii.

Edric slammed his fist to thetable.

Jii looked to him without aword.

For a while, the room was onceagain silence.

Edric stood up and left thechair heading towards the railing between the two staircase overlooking thelarge falcon emblem down below.

Father...

Jii closed the red book and left thechair, making his way towards Edric. "Your Highness, if I may saysomething..." he said and paused.

Edric glanced over his shoulder."What is it, Jii?" he said. His voice weak and sad.

"Your Highness, you, arenow the rightful ruler of this kingdom. You control its lands and its people.If I may advice you on one thing, then I would advise you to rule over themwith honor and be humble to them. You may not be able to clear your father'sname but in time, people will soon learn to forgive your family and acceptyou." said Jii. He stepped back and gave the prince a bow.

Edric's head slumped. He sighed.

"I will take my leave, yourHighness" said Jii and the master Care Taker turned away from the prince. Hemake his way back to the entrance to the archive exits the room as the doorclosed back behind him.

"Jii..."

Edric wiped his face with thesleeve of his robe.

"Like I said, this will beyour first mission. The master has asked me to oversee your progress and helpyou should anything arises"

It was a man, older than him.His clean shaven face did not hide the deep scar that ran across his face likethe deep gorge of a chasm. His green and blue eyes glittered when hit by thesun. "Can you do it?" he said.

Varin approached the man. Hepulled his hood up, covering his face from the man's view, leaving only hisglittering eyes. "Leave it to me" he said simple. He ran back towardsthe ledge and jumped.

The Royal Sword part 4

2011-10-07T14:30:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Edricgulped. He let his back slumped to the leather cushion of the chair as helooked up to the white metal ceiling of the sphere room as if looking foranswer to a question he did not possess. His ears picked the distance voice ofhis father as his mind replayed back the time when he was only a small kid.Part of him was glad that it wasn't entirely his father's fault that the peoplehated him so much.

"Father... was that whypeople hated you?"

Edric wiped his face with thesleeves of his robe. He left the chair and made his way towards the entrance ofthe sphere room with the red book in his hand. Determined to show the peoplethe truth and stop the recent attack on his family. He make his way towards thedoor before looking over his shoulder back to the sphere room behind him.

And he frowned.

He stepped out and closed thedoor behind him, with his fists clenched. He took a deep breath and let itwashed away his feelings. He needs to address the people of his kingdom and hecannot convince them if he is angry. That's what Jii had taught him when he wasyoung. The only thing he ever remembered the master Care Taker taught him.

He make his way back to the entrance to the vault and up thestairs back to the stone wall staircase. He pushed a button on the wall of thearchive before stepping out to confront Jii who stood with his arms crossed andhis eyes mad.

"Your Highness" saidJii, his voice firm.

Edric looked up to Jii but saidnothing. He stepped up the staircase and brushed the master Care Taker to hisside.

Jii quickly took a step forwardand grabbed hold of the prince's shoulder. His fingers dig deep.

Edric winced. He glared at themaster Care Taker. "Don't, Jii."

But Jii only tightened his grip,forcing the prince to shift to his side to lessen the pain. Jii grabbed hold ofthe red book with his other hand and pulled the prince closer towards him.

"No, your Highness. Jii knowwhat you are going to do, and Jii cannot allow that" said the master CareTaker. He groaned and pulled the prince back into the archive, closing the doorbehind him shut.

The master Care Taker shovedEdric to one of the seat near a bookcase and took a seat directly opposite ofhim. Jii pulls out the white handkerchief on his breast pocket and wiped hisspectacles with it before replacing back to his face.

"Your Highness" saidJii, no longer the firmness in his voice that he showed before. He cleared histhroat and wait for any reaction from the prince.

Edric rubbed his shoulder as hereseat himself on the chair. He glared at Jii sitting across him wiping hisspectacles. The edge of his lips jerked.

"Your Highness, you mustunderstand one thing" said Jii. He placed his hand on the leather cover ofthe red book. "This... is a secret none must get hold of". He placedthe book on the table between him and Edric.

Edric frowned. He pressed hisbody forward. "And why is that?"

Jii sighed. He opened the bookand flipped through the pages towards the center of the book. "Because ofthis" he said and showed Edric pages at the center of the book that wereglued together. Jii tored through the glue and produced a key. He then spreadthe torn pages open, revealing an entry written in dark red ink.

Edric's face contracts."What is the meaning of this?" he said after reading what was writtenon the page. He turned his head to Jii whose hand placed the small golden keyon the table next to the book.

"This was written by yourfather several months after the Imams had sealed whatever demon sleeping insidethe sword" said Jii.

Edric turned the book to facehim and read the entry again.

"Third day of... I forgot...where... where am I?"

"Jii, Jii called for thosebastards. How dare he... they sealed my powers back into the sword and lockedme into this prison! I... I need my powers! I need the sword! I need to help mypeople!"

"No... My people... Ikilled them... for power"

"NO! They all deserve to besacrifice. I saved them from the Altherans!"

"But, I am their King.Protecting them is my duty..."

"No! Protecting MY kingdomis my duty! Their duty!"

"I... I cannot stand itanymore, please. Please let me go. I need the sword."

There was a pause in the entryfollowed by another entry, which Edric could only guess were made later.

"It has been months, toolong that I have forgotten how long it was. My strengths has left me. Thepower... corrupted my soul. Turned me into a monster. I asked Jii to seal italong with this book but told everyone that the sword has been destroyed sothat none would seek it anymore. Let this be my last entry and let my warninggo to those after me. Do not fall to the temptation of power of the sword forit will only destroy you and never tell anyone of its existence."

"To Edric my son. I amsorry. I have shamed you when I should have made you proud..."

Edric was taken aback by thelast sentence written on the page. He turned to face Jii who was looking at himwith the sad eye of a father looking at his child.

"So you see, yourhighness..." said Jii. "You cannot tell of this secret to anyoneelse. You must honor your father's wish. He had tasted the sword and its powerand he had fell to its temptation. "

The Royal Sword part 3

2011-09-30T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

The metal walkway leads to another round metal door and another round of identification which Edric easily passed. The metal door rolled into the walls, revealing a large spherical room painted in white metals. The walkway continue inside the room and circled around a dais with a sword sleeping inside a glass case. On top of the glass case sat a red leather book bounded with the seal of the King.

Edric swept the room for the second time before approaching the glass case at the center of the room.

"Fourth day in the fourth month in the year of the Serpent Kings" read Edric as he flipped through the content of the red book inside the vault. He sat on the only chair inside the sphere facing towards a sword in a glass case on a dais.

"War has finally come to us in the form of the Kingdom of Althera. A messenger from their King had arrive bearing with their demands. The Royal Swords and the land to our East which they claimed we stole several generations before. I find both claims absurd seeing how those lands and the sword had for thousands of years been in our possession along with the land. So I send the messenger back with copy of the Ordain of the Land and the history of our nation. A move that I later regretted."

"The Two Year War... " said Edric alone. He recalled the hardship he felt during the days, tending to the refugee under the command of his father. Yet he could not remember how it all ended. All he could remember was death. And a man with red eyes wielding a sword looking down at him.

Edric raised his head. The sword with the golden hilt and silver sheath sleeps silently inside its case. A long yellow cloth wrapped around the hilt of the sword and the sheath like a seal. Not wanting to stop his growing curiousity, he turned back to the book on his hand.

"Fifteenth day in the sixth month in the year of the Serpent Kings. It has been approximately a month since the attack from both sides started. The Kingdom still stands even though much of the lands to the East has been taken by the force of Althera. I have ordered the knights to round every refugees they can find into the city walls. We still have enough supplies to hold us out for at least a year even with the sudden increment in population inside the city walls."

"I've talked to Jii about the sword, but all he said was that it is not for us to yield. I do not understand and argued with him about the needs of using it should it arises but Jii was persistent with me not wielding. I cannot apprehend the logic behind it"

A small writing just under the last entry on the page caught Edric's attention. He pulled the book closer to his face and squint.

"I saw it again today, the miasma, when I approached the sword. It was a face but of what I do not know."

Edric's sight shot back to the sword in front of him. Was that why all this security?

He turned to the book again and flipped through the pages.

"Twenty Eighth day in the twelve months in the year of the Serpent Kings. Six months had gone since the war started and it has yet to show any sign of stopping. The force of Althera has reached our doorsteps but they have yet been successful in mounting any attack thanks to the shield erected around the walls. Captain of the Guards reported that every engineer we had in the city had been called for with maintaining the shield. I just hope it would last long enough to break the moral of the Altherans. Food supplies are still in a manageable volume but the number of refugees inside the city had swelled. Yet, I fear more for the day the shield would collapse than our diminishing food supplies. It had never been so incessantly attacked before."

"I have touched the sword for the first time without Jii knowing. It was cold, colder than winter's snow and it gave me chills I've never felt before. There is something inside the sword, but nothing in the books I've read about the Seven Swords had pointed me to what it is. All the legends said was that it possesses great strength, strength that could shatter a kingdom or save it. And that was only the power of a sword. Not all seven together. Maybe I should try unsheathing the sword..."

Edric pulled his head up and cracked his neck. He gave himself a stretch before turning back to the pages of the red book.

"First day in the second month in the second year of the Serpent Kings. The power had grew into me. I've tasted it and I've never felt so alive before. So the legend was true. The sword does possess great power. I hunger to taste it again. I need it."

Edric frowned at the passage on the book.

"What is happening to me?"

That's it?

Edric flipped through the blank pages on the book until he came to another entry, written near the end of the book.

"Twenty Sixth day in the Sixth Month in the second year of the Serpent Kings. I have stopped them... I... have stopped the most powerful kingdom in the land... and in only three days. On my own. Yet I felt unsatisfied... I want more bloodshed... I want to see more death..."

"What has become of me?"

"The sword... where is the sword?... I need it. Where's my sword?!"

Edric flipped through a couple of more blank pages before finally arriving at the last page of the book. It was poorly written, as if its writer was trembling. The words mixed with symbols and words he had never seen before.

"Damn it, that Jii... how dare he called for the Imams from the Holy Kingdom... I will not forgvie him. I will kill that man. No one will seal me again... No one!! I will not allow any Imams to touch this man. His body is mine!!"

"And then nothing..." Edric closed the book. He placed his palm on the cover of the book ran his fingers down the falcon emblem etched onto its center. A rush of feelings flooded Edric's chest as he traced the emblem with the tip of his fingers. Dark spots appeared on the old leather, growing with time.

The Royal Sword part 2

2011-09-23T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Varin woke up when the sting and the chill of cold water splashed to his face. He gasped and coughed from the sudden rush of air into his lungs. His world dark in his sight with only a tiny light, like the light of a distance candle were visible to him. He tried to raise his head but find it was impossible for him to raise his head. Varin pulled his arms closer to him but find them chained.

"What...?" he mumbled through his bruised lips.

"So you're the kid, huh" a rough voice caught Varin's ears.

Still only half conscious, Varin tried to find the source of the voice. "Where...?" he mumbled beyond recognition.

"You're looking for that cursed sword, huh?" the voice came to his ear again, closer this time. He could feel the warmth of the breath touching the skin of his ear. Varin could not answer back.

"Crippled... man..." said Varin, his words clearer to him now.

"What?" said the voice angry.

Varin's head bobbed around. His consciousness losing him again. Shit. The only light he could see began to fade. He felt tired. He wanted to just sleep. He wanted to sleep very much.

And he did.

Edric threw the door open and walked out with a grim face. He straightened his robe and exit the hallway with his fists clenched. The hallway opens up to a large open air hall that also serve as the throne room. Edric stopped by the throne and looked outside to the soldiers practicing by the front gate.

"Father..." he muttered alone before making his way past the hall towards another hallway, passing doors and windows before going down a spiral stone staircase to the dungeons below.

A lone soldier stood with his body slightly slumped to the side.

"Soldier" said Edric.

Startled, the soldier sprang erected and bowed to the prince. "Your Highness!"

Edric returned the soldier's bow. "I need to use the Archive. Let no one in unless I give the order" he said and pats the soldier's shoulder. "Understand?"

The soldier gripped tight his spear. "Yes, Your Highness!"

Edric gave a weary smile. "Good. Now open the door."

The soldier turned his back to Edric and produced a key from the inside of his armor. He slides the key into the lock and gave it a twist. The sound of gears turning reverberated around the walls of the stone staircase. Dusts rain from above. A stone next to the door swivels, revealing a small keypad with green lit numbers on it. The soldier shifts to the front of the keypad and tapped a few numbers in one swift movement.

The rumbling stop and the door backs away before sliding to one side, revealing a brightly lit circular library with floor made of black and white marble. The smell of papers and clean marble floods the door.

The soldier turned towards the prince and bowed again. "The archive, Your Highness" he said.

Edric stepped inside the door and stopped with a glare at the soldier. "Remember, no one is allowed inside, not even the Head Caretaker" he said with a stern voice.

"Yes, Your Highness, as you command!" said the soldier. He pushed the keypad back into the wall and watch the staircase rumble again and the door closed to a shut.

Edric waited until the door behind him was fully shut before making his way down the spiral staircase at the center of the room towards a large falcon emblem on the wall directly across it. He stood looking at the emblem with a frown. "The vault..."

He stepped on the dais in front of the emblem and proceed towards a corner of the wall. He placed his palm on the wall and a bright green light appeared from wall, scanning his palm. "Identifying..." a voice erupted around the room. A few seconds later it reappeared. "Identification complete, welcome back Prince Edric" said the voice.

The large falcon emblem on the wall rotate a hundred and sixty degrees before it pushed into the wall and rolled to its side, revealing a long circular metal hallway. A metal walkway laid like carpet, hovering above pipes and metals. White light from the lights amongst the pipes painted the hallway with splashes of white and the occasional grey shadows.

Edric stepped on the metal walkway and took a deep breath. He placed his hand on the rail. The coldness coming from the metal rail seeps into his hands like small ants moving up his arm. "Welcome back... huh" he said. His mind raced back to the time he first stepped into the vault. He was with his father, the late King, and back then the King still had his health with him.

"Remember the vault, Edric, for one day, your kingdom will need the power that lies inside it" said his father back then.

Being a young child, no smaller than ten years of age, he paid no attention to his visit.

"What is inside the vault, father?" said Edric with a frown on his face. With head filled with questions, he went deeper into the vault as the emblem behind him revolves back to its place and came to a shut, sealing Edric inside the vault.

The Royal Sword part 1

2011-09-16T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

THE ROYAL SWORD

Light from outside the large windows decorating the brick wall of the hallway lit up the man like a white light as he enters it heading towards the large black door guarded by two guardian twice his size wearing shining white armors. Behind him, an old man wearing a suit of black and white followed the man with an alarmed face.

"Your Highness, please wait!" said the old man with his hands out in front of him.

"Don't stop me, Jii" said the young man. His cape flew behind him as if pushing the old man away.

"But your Highness, the King is not in the condition to talk!" said Jii, stronger in his tone but still humbled by the man in front of him.

The man stopped. "He's my father, Jii, I know how to talk to him. I need to know the truth" said the man and continues towards the large black door.

The two guardians crossed their spears in front of the man, prompting him to stop and look at them. The color of their armors changed to black with a falcon insignia on their chest.

Battle armors thought the prince. "I am the prince of this kingdom" said the man. His fists tightened to the point of shaking. "Let me through" he said glaring at the two guardians in front of him.

The guardians stood in silence. Their white eyes showed no soul as does their featureless faces. The spears stood clashed, unafraid by words of the prince.

Jii arrived behind the prince just in time to stop the young man from punching one of the guardians. "Stop it, your Highness!" he grabbed hold of the prince's arm. "You are the prince of this kingdom! This is not how you should behave!" said Jii and pulled the prince's arm down.

The prince's head fell. His eyes closed and his fists loosened. "You're right, Jii. I am the prince of this kingdom..." he said.

"Jii is glad that you realize that" said Jii smiling. He let go of the prince's arm and pulls out a white handkerchief from his pocket.

The prince turned around and punched Jii in the face, sending the frail old man flying across the room unconscious. The white handkerchief danced in the air as it make its way down to the floor.

"You should know your place, Jii" said the prince. He turned to the two guardians and said to them again. "Open the door for me or you'll face the same consequences" he said.

But the guardians gave no movement nor did their faces betrayed them. Their fingers clenched tight at the matte black hilt of the spear.

"I'll say it again-"

But before the prince could finish his sentence, a voice came from beyond the door.

"Let him in" said the voice followed by a cough.

The guardians pulled their spears and slammed its blunt edge to the marble floor. The echo reverberated throughout the hallway and disappeared far across beyond it. The guardian's armors turned grey and then back to white. The falcon insignia dissipates into the air.

The prince straightened his robe and cleared his throat. Behind him, several of the other servants ran towards Jii who was still unconscious from the prince's punch.

The door behind the prince closed and the room turned silence. Little light went through the grey curtain over the only window to the room to his left. Directly in front of him, at the other end of the room sat a large bed with various machines placed on both of its sides. Machines to keep the King alive. The prince coughed at the thick smell of perfume in the room. He rubbed his nose and cleared his throat.

"Edric" a frail voice called out to the prince.

Edric cleared his throat again and make his way towards the bed. His steps light as the breeze in spring. He stood next to the bed and kneeled down to the frail figure on the bed. "Father" he said and bowed down.

The king's wrinkled hands sought for Edric's face. Trembling as it tries to exert itself to move.

Edric raised his head and grabbed hold of his father's hand and placed it to his cheek. Coldness seeps into his face as their skin touched. "Yes, father?"

"I apologize..." said the King and paused, taking a couple of breathes before he continue. "For not telling you everything..." the King took a deep breath. His face strained from the effort. Green veins popped all over his aged body.

"Father" said Edric and he bowed again.

"Edric..."

Edric raised his head again when he heard his father called his name. "Yes, father?"

"...in the vault... a book... sealed..." the King licked his dried lips. "Everything... inside..." he coughed and his eyes sunk deeper into its socket. The king took a very deep breath, arching his body as he did. His hands stoned and trembled. His eyes widened.

"I'm sorry..." said the King and he gave out a long sigh before his eyes closed and his head plopped to the side.

Edric closed his eyes. His father's hand still held close to his cheek.

The Broken Sword part 5

2011-09-09T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Varin punched the last man to the ground and fell on his knees. He could barely opened his eyes nor could he raise his trembling hands. He tried to force himself up, telling his mind that he could still go on, but his body refused. His head wobbled as he looked up to see a muscular man towering in front of him with a grin on his face.

And then he fell on the floor and the world around him turned dark.

Haleema sat with her back on the tree with her daggers on her hands. She took a peek from the edge of the tree bark to the dense undergrowth behind her. Nothing. She pulled her head back and gave out a long sigh of relief. She placed her daggers down on the ground before pulling out a roll of bandage and a small yellow colored vial from her back pouch. She uncapped the vial and dabbed its content onto the bandage before placing it on the wound on her arm. She clenched her teeth as coldness from the liquid she dabbed onto the bandage seeps into her wounds.

Haleema wrapped the bandage around her arm and tied a tight knot to stop the blood from her wound from flowing. Worried if the direwolves return, she picked her daggers from the ground and forced herself to stand up using the bark of the tree as her support.

Haleema looked to the dense undergrowth behind her again and prayed the direwolves didn't follow her. She placed a foot forward and with great care, moved away from the tree. Confident that the wolves are no longer on her trail, Haleema broke into a jog; pushing bushes and leaves, branches and thick vines from her face. She had her dagger pointing to her back, in case the wolves suddenly found her. That way she could easily enter defense stance without needing to spin the dagger around.

"Where is that hut?" said Haleema in her head.

A long rail of tree roots caught her feet and pulled her down to the ground, face first. She coughed, holding her throbbing chest as the pain from the fall and the fatigue builds up in her body. She stabbed her daggers into the dirt and roots and pulled herself forward before rolling on her side and planting her back to the trunk of another tree. She rubbed her chest again, trying to ease the pain and the burning she felt. She coughed and spat out the blood in her mouth.

"Damn it!"

She stabbed her daggers to the ground and looked up to the sky beyond the green canopies. With terrible pain growing in her, Haleema inhaled deep and hard, clenching her teeth and digging her fingers into the earth underneath her. She exhaled and coughed out more blood.

"Damn it!"

As she wiped her mouth, her ears twitched and she caught the sound she had been fearing ever since she first met them.

The direwolves. They've found me!

Haleema quickly ran her hands to the hilt of her dagger and pushed herself back up. She wanted to cry, if it was possible but that was not an option. She needed strength, not fear. She needs the will to live, and not giving up.

The growls of the direwolves grew louder, and stronger. Haleema flexed her fingers around the hilt of her daggers, waiting for the right moment to strike. She pressed her back to the trunk of the tree and calmed her breathing as the growls surrounds her.

From the edge of her eyes, Haleema saw the snout of one of the direwolf hunting her. She gulped. Adrenaline bursts inside her, giving her a clearer consciousness and making her even more aware than usual. She glared back at the direwolf as its head went past her.

Holding her breath, Haleema burst out from behind the tree and stabbed the back of the direwolf head, sending it sprawling to the ground, twitching violently. She rolled behind another tree just as another direwolf lunged towards her.

The impact when the direwolf crash onto the tree felled the tree like it was a twig. Haleema rolled to one side, her chest burning with pain and the edge of her mouth dripping with blood. She kicked the ground and dashed towards the dazed direwolf with her dagger barely touching the ground.

Before the direwolf could even regain its feet, Haleema kicked the side of its body, sending it back down to the ground before slitting its throat with her dagger.

Haleema's breathing became more erratic. Her cough louder. She let go of her dagger and fell on her knees, clutching her chest with her hands. Blood spattered on the corpse of the dying direwolf as its fur and skin changed to ashes. "Damn it" she said as she picks her dagger from the ground but her anger turned to shock, when she heard more growls coming from behind her.

Slowly, she turned around. Her grip on her dagger tightened as did her clutched on her chest. She grits her teeth. She wanted to give up, to just let go. But something inside her burns even stronger.

It was then that she realized.

Haleema looked down to the Broken strapped to her waist.

That's right. I still have this sword.

She pulls away her hand from her chest and let it crawl towards the leather strap holding the sword to its sheath. With her eyes still looking at the group of direwolves in front of her, she undid the knot and took hold of the sword's leather wrapped hilt.

A rush of energy bursts into her from her hand, moving like the flowing of a great river. It snaked into every vein in her body, making them even more sensitive. Haleema pulled the Broken Sword free from its sheath and held it with one hand, pointing towards the group of direwolves.

This is...

She eyed the sword again. The rush of energy swells inside her, but somehow she felt something was not right about it.

She frowned.

And the direwolves struck as if they were able to read her hesitation.

As if the world itself slows down, Haleema glanced at the wolves as they lunged towards her in slow motion. Her eyes burn with determination and her grip on the sword and her dagger tightened even further.

I won't die here!

Haleema took several steps backward and threw her dagger towards one of the direwolves in front of her. The blade swings like a brilliantly glittering disc and struck between the eyes of the direwolf it was aimed at. The attack however did not stop the momentum already inside the wolf as its flying body struck Haleema like a heavy sand bag. The impact send Haleema to the ground and the Broken sword stuck to the tree behind her.

Another direwolf landed on her and slammed its paw on her arm. Haleema screamed. Her brain flooded with panic signals. Her arm burns with pain as the direwolf's claws broke through her sleeve and poke into her skin.

Focusing all her strength to her legs, Haleema slammed her knees on the underside of the direwolf on top of her and kicked its jaw. The impact stunned the beast, giving Haleema the leverage she need to push the wolf off her body.

With all the strength she could muster, Haleema pushed her body closer towards the tree, her hand holding out to reach the Broken sword stuck to the tree.

Just a little bit more!

Out of nowhere, a pair of legs in black pants stood in front of her, obscuring her view. Haleema pushed her head up to see its owner only to see a silver glimmer coming down towards her face.

My dagger!

A muscular arm reached for the Broken sword and pulled it free from the tree. A hand reached out to the blade of the sword and traced its edge carefully.

"At last, it's mine"

"Master" a coarse voice came from behind the owner of the arm.

"What is it?"

"What about this girl?" said the voice.

The owner of the arm turned around and looked down to the ground at the pool of blood.

"Dispose of her"

The Broken Sword part 4

2011-09-02T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

The girl waved her hand and pulls out a flower out of thin air. "For you" she said with a smile.

Haleema took the flower and gave it a sniff. The sweet scent coming out from its petals calmed her questioning mind, relaxing her. He gave the flower back to the girl and pat her head. "Thank you, it smells wonderful" she said.

The girl giggled and ran up the stairs with the flower high above her head. She waved them around as she calls out her friends who were busy with their work.

Haleema watched on, the smile she gave the girl still stuck to her face. Somehow, she now felt rejuvenated. She made her way towards the grand entrance and disappeared into the world outside.

The huge white door grumbles and screech like an angry monster as the chains pulls it open. Haleema, with the gatekeeper by her side, watched with cringing face until the moving door halted and the screeching stopped. She turned her head to the gatekeeper whose face she doubt had ever changed. "You should do something about the screeching" she pulled her hood over her headscarf and puts on her facemask.

Blizzards of golden white sands blasts it way into the opened door. Out in the open behind the veils of the sands, the sound of sandwharls whispered in the air.

"The sandwharls are already out, you sure you can make it out of the desert?" said the gatekeeper. His face emotionless and his head stuck looking straight to the golden sea of sands outside the door.

Haleema smiled behind her facemask. "I've done it more than you can count with your fingers" she said and walked out of the door. The sand storm blasted her face, pushing her hood back revealing her headscarf. She placed her hand in front of her forehead like an awning , pulled her hood back to cover her headscarf and walks off into the storm.

The gatekeeper watched the door closed in front of him and turned his body around only to come face to face with the Queen. He quickly bowed to her and dared not to raise his head.

The Queen looked behind the gatekeeper, at the closed gate. "Has Haleema departed?" said the Queen.

"Yes, your Majesty" said the gatekeeper.

The Queen smiled. "Good. Now tell all the gatekeepers to lock the gates. We're departing this desert" she said and turned away.

The gatekeeper raised his head, stunned at what he had heard. "But your Majesty, what about General Haleema? Should we not tell her?" he said.

The Queen stopped. "No, she won't come back" and continued her way back towards her palace.

The Queen's words froze the gatekeeper. He grits his teeth and clenched his fists. He turned to his men guarding the door and above the towers. "Lock the doors! We're departing!" he said to them.

The man stood erected in confirmation of the order they have just received.

Gears turn and the walls shifts as the guards secured the lock on the gate. The gatekeeper, still standing on his post oversees the snail paced movement of the walls as it began to close in on the gate. Only once the walls completely covered the gates and the city compressed to two third of its current size can the city be move to a new location.

"I never thought I'd see the city move in my lifetime" said the gatekeeper under his breath. He looked to the yellow sky above. "I'm sorry Haleema"

Haleema sat under the shadow of an old cave with an uncapped bottle in her hand. She watched the sandwharls threw sand into the air as it breached the surface of the desert. Sensitive to the light, it quickly dived back into the sands again, back into the darkness where it made its home. She took a gulp from the bottle and capped it before clipping it back to her hip. She watched from the distance at the sandstorm, far in the horizon. It has been a week since she left Althera yet the sandstorm had not subside.

"I hope everyone's all right".

Haleema exits the cave and looked directly above her. "I hate climbing cliffs." She pulls out a small rope wrapped around her waist and a small metal anchor with five sharp points that opens up like a claw. She tied one end of the rope to a hole on the anchor held it in her mouth. She cracked her fingers and looked up again, giving a long sigh before she begin her climb.

Haleema punched the metal anchor into the crevices on the cliff face and let go. She let go of her numbing hand from the cracks above her head and leaned back, letting the anchor hold her weight. She took several deep breathes and gave the desert behind her one last look. "It'll will be a while until I see this landscape again" she said. Once she regained her strength, she dug her hands back into the cracks above her head, pulled the metal anchor out from the crevice and continue with her climb up.

By the time Haleema reached the top of the cliff, the sun had already descended half way across the sky. She gave the rope a tug and quickly wrapped it around her waist. She undid the knot on the metal anchor and replaced it back into her back pouch.

Haleema glanced at the forest in front of her before taking another look at the distance sight of the sandstorm raging around Althera. She took a deep breath and turned back to face the forest. "Be safe, my friends" she said and disappeared amongst the bushes.

The Broken Sword part 3

2011-08-26T12:02:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Varin cleared his throat and looked at the gathered people over by the other end of the road.

"What happened?" he said without looking at the old merchant.

The old man looked down to the ground and sigh. He shook his head while his fingers jumped from one goods to another. "It was a massacre" the old merchant finally said. He gulped as he blink vigorously, looking up to the roof of his stall. He took a deep breath. "A week ago, someone broke into the Central Dome and killed all the imams inside including the Grand Cleric" said the old merchant. He gulped again and wiped his cheek with the sleeves of his robe. "Not only that, the man even killed the blacksmith and his apprentice".

Varin frowned. "Why the blacksmith and his apprentice but not the whole city?" he said turning back to the old merchant who was busy wiping his face.

"No one knew" said the old merchant.

"You said Imams before, what are these Imams?" said Varin.

The old merchant looked to Varin with a surprised face. "You have never heard of the Imams?"

Varin shook his head. "Do tell me"

The old merchant cleared his throat. His sobs half disappeared when he start talking about the Imams. "The Imams are the governors of the city, they are both our protector and our leader as they always been for the past two thousand years. " said the old merchant. "They are also the guardian of the Book and the holy words".

Varin nod, though he knew nothing about the Book or the holy words. "Do you know who did this?" he said.

The old merchant looked around him. His eyes shuddered, as if worried about something. He came closer to Varin and whispered. "I heard some said they saw a crippled man walked out of the rubble of the dome unscathed" said the old merchant.

Varin's eye widened. He snapped to the old merchant and slammed his hands on the table filled with goods. "A crippled man?!" he said. His face stopped right in front of the old merchant's.

The old merchant backed away, surprised by Varin's sudden change of attitude. He looked to his back, placing his hand on the barrel behind him preventing it from falling over. "Y, Yes, well, that's what the rumor said." said the old merchant.

"Do you know who saw the man?" Varin pressed on.

The old merchant glared to the his sides and shook his head. "You can try asking around the bar, maybe they could tell you more..." said the merchant.

Varin closed his eyes and backed his face away. He took a few deep breathes and finally reopened them to see the merchant replacing some of the goods on table back to its original places. "I'm sorry"

The old merchant waved his hand in front of his face. "It's okay, it's okay" he said with a smile.

Varin gave the old merchant a bow, thanking him before making his way back down the great stairs to the bar in the lower part of the city. The crippled man was here. He clenched his fists and jumped down the steps two at a time.

Haleema rose from her chair, last amongst the generals to leave the throne room. She gave the Queen a bow before making her way towards the door.

"Haleema, wait" said the Queen. Her voice glued Haleema's feet to the carpet, forcing her to make an abrupt stop. She climbed down the small steps and made her way towards her general as if she was floating in the air.

"Haleema" the Queen watch her general turned to face her and gave her a bow without saying a word.

"Raise your face, my old friend" said the Queen.

Haleema raised her face but evaded the Queen's sight.

"You have done well" said the Queen, smiling at Haleema, which flustered her. She placed her hand on Haleema's shoulder. "The second phase of our plan will soon begin and we will take back what was once ours. But before we could achieve that, there is something else I must ask you to do" said the Queen. She let go of Haleema's shoulder and turned to face her throne. Behind her stood her two most loyal guards, each with their mouth sewn to prevent them from saying a word.

The Queen let her sight paused at her throne before finally turning to face Haleema once again. "I must ask for you to bring the sword somewhere" said the Queen.

Haleema frowned, unable to comprehend what the Queen was telling her. "May I ask, my Queen, what city and why?" she said with apprehension.

The Queen stared at Haleema long. "It's not a city, but a hut."

Haleema's frown deepened. "A hut?"

"Yes, a hut, to a man named Dalos" said the Queen.

Though her heart yearned for more answer, Haleema said nothing. She gave the Queen a bow. "As you wish, your Majesty" she said and walked away.

The Queen watched her once best friend walked away with sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Haleema. But this is for the good of the kingdom" she said and exit the throne room with her bodyguards through the door behind her throne.

Haleema walked down the stairs only to have her way stopped by the same girl she met earlier. She smiled at her and the girl smiled back. "Hi" said Haleema.

The Broken Sword part 2

2011-08-19T19:20:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

The hallway broke into a large room with two winding stairs that merged at the top standing at each wall of the room. A large statue of the current Queen stood majestically at the center of the room while workers and servants clean and tend to those who had been granted permission to meet with the Queen.

A young girl came up to the woman and gave her a deep bow. "Welcome back Miss Haleema" she said with a bright smile on her face.

Haleema smiled back to the girl and proceed to tend her shifting headscarf. "You should put some pins for your scarf or they'll fall off, you know" she said.

The girl, shied by Haleema's words, looked down to the white marble floor and nods her head.

Haleema pats the back of the girls head and told her to continue with her work. The girl gave Haleema another bow before walking away, giving her one last look before she disappears up the stairs.

Haleema closed her eyes and breathed deep the clear and refreshing smell of the floors and the walls of the tower. It had been three months since she last step inside the tower and how she had missed it already. Haleema smiled and with powerful stride, climbs the stairs towards the large door behind the statue of the Queen.

The throne room.

Haleema stopped in front of the door and closed her eyes again. Her lips mumbles words of encouragement for her. Once she felt herself ready, she placed her hand on the door and gave it a gentle push.

The door cracked open revealing a larger room bright from the light that shone down from the windows lined high on all sides of the walls. A long red carpet marked the way to the throne for Haleema. She looked down to the rough carpet, keeping her sight low as she took her first step inside the throne room.

"Stop, Haleema" a soft voice greets her. There was a tinge of seriousness underneath the soft voice that gives the chill to Haleema.

Haleema stopped. Dead on her track, unable to move.

"Raise your face, do not be so humble. You are one of my finest generals, I want you to be proud" said the soft voice.

Haleema gulped and slowly raise her face. On both sides of the carpet sits fourteen high chair, each filled with the Queens most revered minds, both in warfare and administration. Only a single high chair were left empty. Her seat. Haleema turned her sight to the Queen, a mere girl who had only turned 20 a few months back, sat on the throne with her crown, shaped like the drop of water pointing upwards.

The Queen smiled upon seeing Haleema raised her head. "That is better" she said.

Haleema returned the Queen's smile and gave her a bow. No one knelt to the Queen in the kingdom. The Queen banned such action upon her ascension to the throne, seeing how it nearly broke the kingdom a few decades before.

"Have you found it?" asked the Queen.

Haleema bowed again. "Yes, my Queen". She unlatched the strap around her waist and wrapped it around the sheath of the broken sword.

"I present to you, the Broken Sword, one of the legendary Seven Swords. Lost after the Battle of Zarthand in the Valley of the Dragonkin"

The Queen rose from her throne and heads quickly snapped towards her as she descent down the stairs to the bowing Haleema. Her eyes kept to the Broken sword Haleema held in her hands.

The Queen lay her hand on the leather wrapped hilt of the sword. The leather sunk as she wrapped her fingers around it. The edge of her mouth jumped.

"You have done well, Haleema" said the Queen. She released her hold on the sword hilt and walked back to her throne.

Haleema bowed deeper before strapping the sword back to her waist.

"Generals" said the Queen as soon as she sat back on her throne.

"It is time for us to begin the second phase of our plan"

All the generals bowed. "Yes, your Majesty!" they all shout synchronously.

Varin jumped down the cart and brushed the hays that was stuck to his shirt. He thanked the cart driver and handed him a coin of silver as a token of thanks, even after the cart driver refused his payment.

He gave his face a slapped and proceed towards the nearest bar he could find. The best place for him to get to know the local. He cleared his throat and proceed down the winding road towards the great stairs that leads to the upper part of the city.

As Varin stepped onto the upper part of the city, and was struck by the sheer destruction that unfolds in front of his eyes. A gathering of people stood in lines, looking at the destroyed dome, some weeping, other stood in silence with their fists clenched.

Varin, wary of the tension around the gathered people, make his way towards one of the shops still open despite having no customer. The old merchant, wearing layers of robe and a monocle on one of his eyes looked to Varin with a weary smile.

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?"

The Broken Sword part 1

2011-08-12T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

THE BROKEN SWORD

Gray smokes curls in the air like dancers spinning and jumping. Incenses burns the nostrils of the occupant of the small room, but he heed to no senses. His mouth continues to mumble words of obscured meaning, powerful yet dangerous words. His chest rise and fall as he sucks in more of the gray smoke coming from the incenses he burns in front of him in the silver bowl. He sticks one of his plump finger to the edge of the silver bowl and traced it around, at a steady pace, not too fast nor too slow.

The man rocks his body back and forth, his mouth mumbles faster. He laid the broken sword on the straw mat and circles his palm on top of the incense bowl, pushing the gray smoke it produce in a constantly moving circle. His muscular arms sat on top of his crossed legs.

"Master" a coarse voice came from behind the man. He opened his eyes and glared over his shoulder. A green kid sized creature stood behind him rubbing its long human like hands looking down at the wooden floor.

"What is it?"

The creature gulped and rubbed its hands harder. "Ma... Master Iblis has destroyed the White Minaret" it said still with eyes looking down at the floor as if afraid to raise its head.

The man smiled.

"Good" he said and returned back to the broken sword in front of him.

The creature bowed lower and stepped back into the darkness behind him before disappearing with a puff of green smoke.

"Once I have all the swords, I will become God"

The man smirked as his eyes fell onto the broken sword in front of him.

Varin jumped to wake when the cart jerked. He looked around--nothing--he laid back on the hay and let his eyes fall to the cliff edge overlooking a large city. He frowned. The center of the city smeared by pitch black smoke that grayed into the sky. He pulled himself forward and tried to get a better view of the city. A building at the center of the city had collapsed to the ground, and burned.

Varin turned his head to the driver. "What happened?" he said.

The cart driver looked past his shoulder to Varin. "Oh that? Can't really say. Rumor said someone destroyed that building, but I doubt that is even possible."

Varin frowned.

Something in him is telling that the destruction of the building he is seeing was caused by the same person who killed his father and burnt down his bar. He doubt that to be true. "What was that building?"

"That's the White Minaret. Along with the Central Dome, it is the main administration building for the city which also acts as its main prayer hall. Too bad it was destroyed though, the building had seen much of the history that shaped the continent" said the cart driver without turning his head. He lashed the two oxen in front of him, ordering them to move faster.

"When did this happened?" said Varin.

The cart driver shook his head. "I've only got the news yesterday when we stopped for rest at Kamor village"

Varin pulled himself back and laid on the haystack behind him still frowning at staring at the rubble of the destroyed building. No one man can destroy a building as big as that.

A woman stopped in front of the giant white gate with a broken sword strapped to her hip. She ran her sight up to the peak of the door before moving down again towards the small square window that lined perfectly in front of her. The edges of her headscarf danced to the tune of the wind blowing along the walls of the great city.

"Althera" she said and made her way towards the window. She sat her hand of the cold white gate and banged it with her fist.

The small square window slides open, revealing a dark man with green eyes. He looked to her and closed the window back again.

The woman stepped back as shouts emerged from behind the door, calling for the guards to open the door and screaming of her return. She watched as the giant white gate in front of her, with its twin dragons carved to each side of the door, cringed and screamed at first before finally swings open for her. She smiled. It had been long but it was worth the time. She had achieved her goal.

She made her way passed the gate keeper and the guards but not before giving the gate keeper a bow, a respect all who uses the gate gave to the keeper. Her walk broke into a stride as she made her way past the square where all the business that keeps the city alive commenced and up the steps to the central tower, where the Queen resides.

Two guardians, dressed in radiant white armors blocked her path. They scanned her from top to bottom before finally moving away, pulling the door open with them, giving way to the woman. She bowed to the two guardians and proceed inside, into the cavernous hallway of the central tower.

The woman eyed the statues of past queens and kings who had once ruled the city of Althera. Each wore on their head different shaped crowns, some round while other comes with spikes. No two Kings or Queens of Althera had ever wore the same crown.

The Holy Sword part 5

2011-08-05T14:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Hameed pulls the diamond encrusted hilt with the silver blade free from its golden scabbard and grips it tight is his hand. A warm sensation surge through his veins like the touch of gentle wind, caressing his muscles and calming the raging tempest in his chest. He felt calm, and it shows in his eyes.

The man spreads his arms and calls forth another pack of direwolves out of thin air. The wolves growled and rushed their way towards Hameed like rabid hunters.

Hameed, ready for battle, was about to rush towards the direwolves when a large broadsword spins in the air like a huge boomerang, struck the wolves and stopped Hameed in his track.

The sword arced and turned its blade towards the man with the glowing eyes.

The man grits his teeth and swiped his hand forward, sending the black broadsword flying towards the incoming broadsword. The two sword clashed in the air.

Hameed looked to his side and his eyes widened.

It was the same hooded man with the cane, except there were no swords dancing around him.

The man looked up, revealing an eye glowing red. He swiped his hand across his chest and pulled it towards him.

The broadswords clashed with each other and then retreated back to their masters. The hooded man grabbed hold of his large broadsword, while the black broadsword hovers around the other hooded man.

Hameed looked on at the two identical men. He clasped the hilt of the Holy Sword with both hands and took a few steps backwards. Eyes kept to the two.

"Banar..." said the hooded man with the swords hovering around him.

The other hooded man pulls back his hood, revealing a man in his thirties with scars that ran down from his forehead to both of his cheeks. "Iblis" he said to the hooded man. Banar grabbed his sword on its hilt and glanced at Hameed whose eyes still stuck to him and Iblis. "The Holy Sword..." he said under his breath. Banar closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them again.

"You! With the sword!" he said to Hameed.

Hameed turned his gaze towards Banar.

"You want to leave this place alive?" said Banar. He lifts his broadsword over his head and settles it across his shoulders. "You need to defeat him" he points to Iblis who was already smiling at Banar's words.

Iblis smiled and broke into a laughter. "You cannot defeat me, you know that more than anyone else, Banar" he said.

Banar ignored Iblis and points his cane towards Hameed. "You're an Imam, correct?"

Hameed gulped, and said nothing.

"Then you should know what he is" Banar continues. He swings his cane and points to Iblis.

High in the sky, black clouds began to gather around the ruined city. Thunders growl amongst the mountains and the plains and the forest as everything else went silent.

"A Djinn." said Hameed.

Banar nodded his head. "A very powerful Djinn" he said. "But you can defeat him" he said. "Or at least, you can banish him from his host"

Hameed looked at Iblis. His eyes determined. His heart calmed by the sword he held.

A powerful gale swept across the ruined city followed by the roar of thunder. The dark sky above flashed blue like intricate fireworks running across the clouds. Hameed took a step forward. He settles his sword on his shoulder, taking a fighting stance like a farmer ready to swing his sickle. He closed his eyes and murmured words from the Book.

Banar took a nearly identical stance compensated for his disability. He lowered his body down like a squat with his limped leg stretched out front. He took a deep breath and held it. He felt the breath moving down his throat and into his lungs. He reopened his eyes again and with a loud groan, threw his sword spinning high into the air just as the first silver bead came down from the sky above.

Iblis spreads his arms and called for more direwolves, two packs this time. He swipes both of his hands forward. The swords hovering around him slingshot into the air and arced their way towards Banar's incoming sword.

Hameed rushed forward towards the first pack of direwolves. He jumped over the first two pair, slashing down on their backs before landing into a roll and stabbed the forehead of the third direwolves. He pulls out the sword and spins it to his back where it caught the neck of the fourth direwolves. Hameed kicked the wolf free from his blade and grabbed its fur. He spins it around and slammed the corpse onto the fifth and sixth direwolves.

Banar limped his way closer towards Iblis. He eyed his sword as it clashes and danced in the air with Iblis' swords. He clicked his tongue. "The Old Sword.." he said. "This is going to be hard". He swiped his hand away and swings it like a large 'U'. The sword responded to his gesture and retreated only to attack again from below, breaking the attack pattern of Iblis' swords.

Hameed leaped over the last of the direwolf ignoring the cut in his arm and on his back. He grabbed hold of the sharp spike protruding from the back of the wolf and ran his sword deep into its skin. The direwolf roared in anger and tried to shook him free but Hameed quickly kicked the hilt of the sword and watched it went through the monster. He fell to his side heaving for air.

Banar's sword danced with greater intensity in the air, clashing at Iblis' swords harder.

Banar limped his way towards Hameed and extends his arm towards him. "Can you get up?" he said not looking at the Imam.

Hameed grabbed his arm and pulled himself up. "Yeah"

"I'll distract him" said Banar simple. Standing between Hameed and Iblis, Banar spread his arms wide. His sword began to dance like a dancer intoxicated in his dance, parrying and slashing at the two swords. Banar's left eye burns with intensity and anger. Its red glow brightened.

Hameed picks up the Holy Sword from the ground and stood behind Banar. He closed his eyes, emptying his mind and calming his emotions. He murmured words from the Book again, slower this time, but precise. He held the Holy Sword tight in his hands, ignoring the piercing pain in his arm and back.

Sweat forms as the sword fight extends. Banar, arms trembling, began to feel the fatigue of using too much of his power to control the sword. He could feel his consciousness losing the longer he fights. He grits his teeth and tightened his fist. He took a deep breath and held it inside.

"Now!" he said. He clasped his hands together and pushed it down to the ground. As if he held it in his hand, his sword slashed down hard on the two sword, forcing it to cross one another to block it. Banar could feel the pressure from Iblis' powerful energy pushing back at him. Cold and anger, twisted, rage, sadness, everything came into him like the rush of an avalanche. Banar's body trembled, his hands shaking.

Hameed stepped forward and leaped high towards Iblis with the Holy Sword high above his head. He uttered the words from the Book as he strikes down on the Djinn.

"As the ruler of this realm, I command thee to return to thy place in the name of the Almighty God!"

The Holy Sword part 4

2011-07-29T13:02:00.001+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

From the man's back, another pack of direwolves come running towards Hameed, each with fangs and claws longer and sharper than the last ones with sharp blade like protrusion coming out their backs.

The man's laughter caught Hameed's ears. He lowered himself into a fighting stance with his daggers pointing to his back. His heartbeat pounced the inside of his chest like war drums. His eyes and ears became sensitive. Everything around him moves at slower speed. Hameed gripped tight on his dagger and launched himself directly towards the first two direwolves coming at him. He stabbed the first one in its forehead before it could even raise its claws toward him and jump rolled his body over the second direwolves, stabbing the back of its head before the blades on its back touches him. He rolled to the ground and spins his dagger forward. He slides underneath the third direwolves and stabbed and kicked it in the guts.

The fourth direwolves leaped high upon seeing Hameed killing its own kind. It barred its fangs and claws at his neck, ready to take down the its adversary.

But Hameed was ready for it. He spun his body around, dodging the wolves claws and fangs, and stabbed it behind its head, shoving the dagger deep and twisting it to ensure its death.

Hameed glared behind him as the last direwolves flopped to the ground lifeless. His chest rise and fall with the beat of his quick short breathes. The hilt of his daggers felt slippery. His eyes blurred by the dark blood of the direwolves. He turned his eyes towards the hooded man whose laughing to the sight of his dead direwolves.

"Marvelous" said the man. He tilts his head and gave Hameed a clap. "Marvelous, I've never seen a mere human defeating a direwolves before, let alone a whole pack of them" he smiled. The red eyes underneath the hood glowed ever more brilliant.

Hameed slides his dagger back into their sheaths and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeves. "Who are you?" he said gulping his breath.

The man smiled again. He pulls out a cane from his robe and tapped the ground hard with it. "I am the collector of the Seven Swords"

Hameed frowned. "I've never heard of any collector of the Seven Swords before" he said. He glared to his back, to the open area beyond the fountain. Damn, only one way out. He gulped and turned his head back towards the man who called himself the collector of the Seven Swords.

"Of course you have" said the man smiling. "I only came with different names" a muscular arm appeared from the robe, reaching for the red cloth behind him. He undid the strap on the cloth and pulls out a large black broadsword from it. He threw the sword and watch it floats in the air, its blade pointing to the earth.

The man shifts his cane and reveal another muscular arm. He reached for the yellow cloth behind him and unwrapped it. He unsheathed the sword from its black shiny scabbard and threw it into the air. The sword floats beside the large black broadsword.

Hameed's eyes widened upon seeing the sword in the yellow cloth.

The man smiled, as if he had already read what was inside Hameed's mind. "Yes, Hameed, this is the Old Sword". The Sword danced in the air upon hearing its name called by the man. The man gave Hameed an evil smirk. "It was hard to track where it had gone, after what you did to it you know" said the man. He spins his index finger around, and the sword spun along with it. "Long and far had I searched for it".

Hameed grits his teeth. His fist white, shaking. He closed his eyes and took several deep breathes trying to calm the overwhelming feeling in his chest. He closed his eyes and fell to his knees. Streams of silver lines fell down his cheeks. His lips trembled. He slammed his fist unto the dusty road beneath him and screamed.

The man smirked. With a tap and a thud, he walks forward, towards Hameed.

But then Hameed stopped. His fist tightened. He shot up and pulls out his daggers from their sheaths. He screamed at the top of his lung and lunged towards the man without any thought or the grace he showed when he faced the direwolves.

The man sidestepped to his side and drilled a fist to Hameed's stomach.

Hameed felt his breath pushed out of him and the momentum he felt died the instant the man's fist hits his stomach. Still pulled by gravity, his body bend forward like a bow. He coughed and saw the man became smaller and farther away from him. "Shit!"

Hameed slammed through a ruined building, sending it down upon him like broken house made of cards, and dragged him on the cobblestone road until the outer walls of the city brought him to a stop. He coughed and felt warm liquid on his chest. "Shit" he said. He rubbed the red warm liquid from his tattered robe and ripped his sleeves off.

"I will kill you"

The man smiled. The Old Sword and the black broadsword danced around him like a pair of dancers oblivious to what is happening around them. He raised a finger and moves it like the tact of a conductor. The swords danced, like obedient little kids, to the movement of the man's finger.

"You cannot kill me, Hameed" said the man as his eyes glows brighter. "None can defeat me"

Hameed grits his teeth. Slowly, he reached for the sword strapped to his back.

His action stunned the man at first but then he smirked. "That's right" he said.

The Holy Sword part 3

2011-07-22T13:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Hameed slips his hand to his sides, fingers ready at his daggers. Slowly, he began to take a few steps backward while he let his sight bounce from one side to the other. His heart races, pounding like drums ready for war. His eyes became focused. Time felt slow around him. Buds of tiny clear droplets formed on his forehead. His mouth murmured words from the book, a habit to calm himself down.

He gulped.

And large shadows leaped from behind the bush towards him.

Hameed took quick steps backwards and unsheathed his daggers as the direwolves lands on the spot where he had stood. Using the momentum of his movement, he spun around and made a dash towards the ruined city behind him while the direwolves gave chase.

"Damn it! I hate those creatures!" said Hameed in his head.

He sheathed his daggers and pulls out several small star shaped object from a pouch on his belt. Once the road began to slope down, he jumps and spun his body towards the direwolves behind him. "Taste this!" he said and threw the stars towards the direwolves, sending some of them squealing in pain and fell to the ground.

Hameed lands with his body facing the ruined city. He broke into a mad dash, escaping a slash from one of the direwolves by a hair's breadth. "Shit they're fast!"

Hameed eyed one of the fallen building inside the city and changed his direction towards it. He jumps and crashed himself through the windows into the interior of the building with his arms crossed in front of his face. Hameed rolled and gave himself a quick push back up. He stumbled over a chair but managed to regain his balance just as the first direwolf leaped into the building from the window. Hameed faced the direwolf and kicked the chair towards it. He unsheathed his dagger and prepared to face the monster who had dodged the chair he kicked. The wolf growled and leaped at Hameed with fangs and claws barred, but Hameed was quicker. He ducked just as the wolf's claws about to hit him and slashed upward, slicing through the wolf's stomach. The monster fell to the floor yelping with black liquid pouring from its opened stomach.

Hameed sheathed back his dagger and jumped over the dead wolf. He make his way into the kitchen and proceed to one of the windows closest to him. He waited for the other wolves to enter the building but after a while, the place turned silent.

Hameed frowned, his guts is telling him that something is not right. "Of course something's not right" he said in reply. He pressed his back to the wall next to the window in the kitchen and peeked outside.

A couple of direwolves lie in waiting. Their snout facing the window where Hameed was peeking from. "Shit!" Hameed ducked lower. He made his way back to the entrance to the kitchen and began to rethink his plan. "Damn, they're smarter than I thought" he rubbed his chin with his eyes closed. He began to recreate the layout of the floor he's in inside his head and planned his escape.

Hameed reopened his eyes again, this time with determination burning inside him. He smiled, confident with his plan. Hameed looked to the window in the kitchen where he once stood before and timed his breathing. He knew the direwolves would make their entrance through it and pushed him back to where he came from where another pair of wolves will be waiting. He smirked and make his way behind an upturned table, breathing only slightly as his eyes fell to the kitchen window.

Hameed's ears rang with high pitched ring. He slowed his breathing down and lowered his body behind the table. His fingers danced at the hilt of his daggers, ready to unsheathed them in times need.

The attack happened fast. The direwolves broke into the kitchen window just like Hameed had predicted and made their push into the empty living room and out the broken window while Hameed watched from behind the table. He smirked and exits the destroyed building through the kitchen window.

Without pause, Hameed made a turn towards another destroyed building and hid himself underneath it. "Lucky me those direwolves aren't a keen sniffer like other wolves" he crawled underneath the destroyed building towards another exit and lie in wait while he scouts the area for the direwolves. "None" he said and made his way out from underneath the toppled building. He made a dash towards the fountain where he entered the sewer. He vaulted over the fountain wall and hid behind it, heaving for air. "Shit, this scares me more than rats!" he thought to himself. He peeked his head above the fountain wall and saw four of the direwolves sniffing the ashen road for his track. Behind them stood a man fully hooded with a large yellow and red cloth strapped behind his back. Hameed watched the man kneeled to the ground and felt it with his hand. He then turned his head towards the fountain and points towards it.

"Shit! Who's that?!" Hameed ducked back and plant his back to the fountain wall. He grabbed hold of his dagger and unsheathed them, ready to fight off the direwolves and the stranger. He closed his eyes for awhile and pumped his breath hard through his mouth. His fingers danced on the hilt of his daggers.

Hameed reopened his eyes again at the same time the first pair of the direwolves leaped over the fountain wall. He quickly slides forward and stabbed both wolves on the underside of the belly. He then dragged his dagger along the bellies of the wolves until his dagger exits through their backs. He swings his dagger so that the blades sits next to his arms. He got up and slammed the pommel end of his dagger to the face of both of the leaping direwolves, sending them yelping to the ground, foam filled their mouths.

Hameed wiped the black colored blood from his face and readied himself to face the stranger whom he knew, controlled the creatures.

"I see you already have the Holy Sword" said the man out of a sudden.

He gave Hameed a smirk.

"Too bad you won't be holding it for long" his eyes flashed red underneath his hood.

The Holy Sword part 2

2011-07-15T13:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

He said his thanks and proceed to examine the place he had jumped into. The place was barely taller than himself and the walls filled with moss. Drips of water drops from the ceiling of the semi circular waterways while rats and other critters scour the floor where it was not flooded.

Hameed gulped. It was a simple job all right, but not when you're musophobic. He closed his eyes and blocked any squeaking sound of the mice around him. "I can do this" he said to himself. Once he regained his composure, Hameed steps into the darkness, guided only by the small orange flame dancing above the container he held in his hand.

Hameed produced the small leather bounded book again and held it close to the orange flame dancing above his hand. He pulled it closer to his face and then turned towards the darkness in front of him. "It should be at the end of this tunnel" he said. He closed the book again and trudged on, hoping it had lead him to the right place.

It wasn't until half of his robe drenched in rat feces smelled water that Hameed finally came to face what he had been looking for. A wooden door stood in front of him. Strong metal bolts punched through the side of the wall, holding the large metal hinges. A large lock sat on the other end of the door, rusted. Hameed flipped the pages on the small book again and looked back to the door. A large symbol of two sword crossed at the blades were etched to the door.

"This should be it" said Hameed. He replaced the book back into the his pocket and climbed the steps toward the door.

Hameed ran his fingers on the symbol, pushing years of dusts from its thick oaken skin. He gave it a light push but the door pushed back with a clank. "Great, it's locked" he scratched his head. Hameed lined his shoulder with the door's lock and took a step back. He tightened his arm muscles and with a hard push, slammed his shoulder on the door. The door banged, and nothing happened.

"Damn" Hameed rubbed his shoulder. He spins his arm around and cracked his neck. He scanned the door again for cracks or holes he could use as leverage. "Nothing, great" he slumps his shoulder. Hameed took a few steps backwards and with all his might, he kicked the metal lock on the door. The door banged, but still, nothing happened. "I hate locked doors" he said.

Hameed pulled out the book again and flipped through its pages, hoping to find some clue on how to open the door. A diagram showing the door and a curved arrow at the hinge of the door made him frown. "Don't tell me" he placed his hand on the hinged end of the door and gave it a push.

The door squeak and opened itself like a charm.

Hameed slapped his forehead.

"Stupid trick door" he said and went inside.

The door opens up a long passageway, barely enough to fit Hameed's figure. Gusts of winds, like the touch of a soft satin brushed his cheeks and irritate the flame on his container. The smell of moss and rat feces had miraculously gone once the door behind him closed. Undeterred, he held a hand in front of the flame and made his way deeper into the passageway.

Hameed looked back to the dark passageway behind him. He had been walking for quite a while but the passage seems almost unending. He took several more steps forward when a door showed up in front of him bearing the same symbol of the crossed sword. He gulped. "This is the place then" he said and placed his hand on the door. He could feel gusts of winds cutting through the cracks on the door, touching his hand like dull blades. He gave the door a push and watch it opened without a sound.

A rush of wind grabbed the fire from the container in his hand.

Hameed gulped as he lays his eyes on the object he seeks.

"The Holy Sword..." Hameed gulped. His pulse races as he lays his eyes on the gold scabbard and the diamond encrusted hilt sitting on top of a pedestal basking in the light that came from above. Leather straps wrapped both ends of the sword golden scabbard, a sling to strap the sword at the back of its user, Hameed noted. He moved his legs, heavy from the awe of what lies in front of him, towards the sword.

Hameed closed the container in his hand and replaced it back in the pocket of his robe. With his sight still stuck to the sword, he laid his fingers on its diamond encrusted hilt. Warmth surged through his fingers as he touches it. It moves, gently and soft up his veins and to his head. Hameed closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.

Once the feeling that swells inside him calmed down, Hameed picked the sword up from its pedestal and unsheathed it. The magnificent silver blade left its scabbard like the passing of the stars shining from the light from above. Its hilt, warm to the touch, felt balanced, not too heavy nor too light even with the diamond encrusted on it. Hameed ran his fingers down the blade and grits his teeth as coldness pricked the tip of his fingers. He let go and replaced the blade back into its scabbard.

"Time to bail out of this place" he said and looked up.

"Looks like that's my only way out". He strapped the sword to his back and climbed up the pedestal. With a heave, Hameed pushed the metal grate open and pulled himself up back above ground.

Hameed rolled to his side and pushed himself back up. He brushed the dirt off his robe and looked around. "The city outskirt" he said when he saw the destroyed city in front of him. He kicked the metal grate close and tightened the leather strap around his chest. "I need to get back to the Grand Cleric fast"

Hameed was about to turn away from the city when the bushes around him ruffles and the deep growls of wolves surrounds him. Hameed's eyes sharpened. He glanced at his back, the only opened area and his only possible escape route.

The growls grew louder and the ruffles of the bushes grew more intense.

The Holy Sword part 1

2011-07-08T13:00:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

THE HOLY SWORD

Hameed kneeled, grabbing the ashes of the dead in his hand. The smell of charred corpse, of burned beams and the sight of blackened city ballooned his chest with sadness. He closed his eyes long and turned his head up to the sky. His mouth murmured, praying for the dead to be at peace. He clenched his fist tight, his teeth grind, pressing hard on his gums. He gulped.

Hameed let the overwhelming feeling settled down in him. Slowly, he opened his eyes again and watched the weightless patches of white above him moving carelessly. He sighed and placed the wet ashes in his hand back to blackened cobblestone road. He murmured prayer for the dead again and got back to his feet. He had seen enough of the destruction. Now he needs to get back to the reason why he came to the ruined city in the first place.

Hameed makes his way deeper into the destroyed city. The smell of burned corpse, like the thick smell of vomit and puss burns his nostrils yet he endured. He gulped a few times and held his breath for as long as he could. Once he found himself no longer able to stand the smell, he pulls out a white handkerchief from his robe pocket and wrapped it around his face, covering his nose and his mouth.

In front of him, amidst the rubbles of burned and destroyed homes and shops, stood a small fountain. It's head broken but its base still intact. The walls on the base of the fountain had cracked, but there was no sign of water flowing out. Hameed vaults over the cracked walls of fountain base. His eyes jumps around, watching and scanning from one end of the fountain to the other.

He frowned and dug his hand into his robe pocket, pulling out a small leather bounded book. He flipped through the pages of the book and scanned the area again.

Then he saw it.

A small metal grate that act as the fountain's flush hole.

Hameed closed the book and shoved it back into his pocket. He smiled. He broke into a jog towards the metal grate and kneeled beside it, carefully sliding his fingers underneath the edges of the grate. "Here it is" he said. He wiggled his fingers and pushed the metal grate up. It rebelled at first, pushing back hard on Hameed's immense strength, only to screech and threw itself open.

Hameed looked down the hole. Something is reflecting the light back to him. He frowned and jerked his head forward. He shifts his position so that he is facing the light and finally he saw what it was. "A stream... running underneath the city" he said. He rubbed his chin nodding his head. "No wonder this city had never have any trouble with water supply".

He looked back up, giving the destroyed city one final glance before finally taking a plunge into the darkness of the hole.

An old man makes his way up the winding stairs made of white marble and dark teak hand rails. He stopped on one of the steps, looking up and taking a breath before continuing his way up once again. His lips moved faster than his feet could carry him up the stairs. In his hand he held tight a small book, bounded by leather with a gold lock on its strap.

As his breathing short winded, the old man wondered how the grand cleric could have walked all these steps every day all these years. The thought marveled him and gave him a faint acceptance in his belief.

The old man climbed the last of the steps and stopped in front of the two burly guards guarding the large oak door looming in front of him. He fell to his knees. "Finally..." he said gulping his breath. He let the pressure from his chest out before finally he pushed himself up. Still feeling the strain in his calf and thighs, the old man staggered his way towards the large oak door, bowing at the two guards in front of him. "I am here to see the Grand Cleric" said the old man.

The two guards looked to each other and then bowed back to the old man. The turned to face the large oak door and pushed it open, ringing the whole tower with its powerful screech.

The old man covered his ears and closed his eyes until the screeching stop. Slowly, he opened his eyes back again and make his way inside.

A lone figure sat hunched flipping through the pages of a small book in his hands.

"The Grand Cleric?"

The figure's head rose revealing a pair of red eyes.

And a smirk.

Hameed landed on the water almost losing his balance. He quickly slammed his hand into the water and held his body from falling. He coughed and wiped the droplets of water caught to his face when he landed.

The dank smell of moss and rat feces filled Hameed's nostrils. He tightened his white handkerchief and placed his hand on the damp side wall, touching lightly at the moss he could not see. "Too dark, I need light" he said. He pulls a small dagger from his side and a small container from the inside of his robe pocket. He scraped the moss on the walls bare and scratched the stone wall with the blade end of his dagger as hard as he could.

Orange sparks flew around his dagger and it was all he need. He twists the container and breaks it into two, revealing a small cloth inside. He sat the cloth close to stone wall and scratched the stones around it with his dagger. The sparks caught on the cloth and a small orange flame lit up.

Hameed smiled.

The Old Sword part 5

2011-07-01T16:28:00.000+08:00

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Hameed watched from behind as the ritual unfolds. Deep inside his heart, he was somewhat disappointed, but he knew it was to be expected.

The senior cleric jogged back with a yellow cloth and yellow rope in his hands. He sat back in front of the Grand Cleric and hands the yellow cloth and the yellow ropes to him.

The Grand Cleric accepted the yellow cloth and proceeds to order the senior cleric to take away the basin. He then placed the sword on the yellow cloth followed by its sheath.

The Grand Cleric cups his hand in front of his face and began reciting words from the book. It was melodious, slow at first but it continuously grew in power as it goes on. The two senior clerics followed the Grand Cleric’s movement and cupped their hands in front of their faces.

Once finished, the Grand Cleric rubbed his face with his hands and ran them along the blade, whispering and murmuring as he moves his hands. The two senior clerics rubbed their faces with their hands and watch on as the Grand Cleric sheathed the sword and wrapped the yellow cloth around it. He secured the cloth with the yellow ropes and once again recites more words from the book.

“It is done” said the Grand Cleric. He shifts his body to his side and turns his gaze towards Hameed who was seating not far behind him. “Hameed”

Hameed stepped forward and sat facing the Grand Cleric.

“Yes, Imam.” Hameed bowed.

The Grand Cleric placed his hand on Hameed’s shoulder and pulled his head close to Hameed’s ear. “Take the sword to the smithy and ask him to melt it into a solid bar. Once done, take it outside the city walls and bury it where no one can find it” he said into Hameed’s ear.

Hameed nods. “Yes, Imam”

The Grand Cleric passed the wrapped sword to Hameed. “Go, child.”

Hameed bowed to the Grand Cleric before making his way out of the prayer hall.

The Grand Cleric watched as Hameed’s fleeting figure disappeared down the stair.

“Now there are only five”

Hameed jogged down the hallway and stopped in front of the staircase that leads to the lobby of the prayer building. He looked to the yellow cloth in his hands. “Only five left.” He grinned and made his way down the stairs.

Hameed made a detour to his room, changing his clothes to a more casual wear of a tunic with green sash and trousers. He slips into his leather shoes and make his way towards the smithy with the wrapped sword in his hands.

Maneuvering the winding road of the city, he came to face the city’s largest forge. A large dome shaped building attached to a standard cube house. As he makes his way towards it, he could feel the intense heat coming from the dome shaped building like dragon’s breath. Sweats and steels formed vapors in the air around the forge, making breathing a chore.

Hameed coughed. He sat the wrapped sword onto the counter and tapped on the bell to call the blacksmith.

A large man, burly with curly moustache appeared from behind the darkness and smokes. “Yes, Imam?” said the smithy upon seeing Hameed.

Hameed gave the man a bow. “Greetings” he said. He pushed the wrapped sword towards the smithy. “The Grand Cleric wished for this sword to be turned into iron bar”.

The smithy rubbed his face with his already dirtied apron. He ran his hand on the cloth and looked at Hameed. “Is this…”

Hameed nod but not before turning to his back and scout the area. “Yes. And the Grand Cleric wishes to see it melt immediately” he said.

The smithy nods his head. “Will do” said the smithy. He picked up the yellow cloth and disappeared back into the shadows and fogs inside the smithy. “I will need a couple of days to melt the metal, I will send my boy to you once I'm done” said the smithy as he reappears again from the darkness of the shop wiping his hands with his apron.

Hameed nods and left his seat, disappearing into the sea of people again.

Varin sat looking out the window with a sad face. Above the house, the splatter from the rain drums like mad as if angered by what had happened. Varin gulped and curled himself above the rocking chair. He closed his eyes, recalling his old father, looking at him, proud and smiling. Such thoughts burns his heart with anger, it fuels his thirst for revenge.

Varin grabbed hold of a cushion and grips its edges as hard as possible.

If he had his way, he would have torn the cushion in half but his mind quickly remind him of his presence inside the house that was not his. So he stopped and closed his eyes.

“Varin”

Varin woke up with a startle from his chair. He looked around the now dimly lit space and wiped his drenched face. It had been two days since his father’s burial and the only clue he had was a hooded man and crippled.

Varin sighed and got off the rocking chair. He heads to the toilet with a face towel hanging on his shoulder. After a quick wash, he changed to a simple cotton shirt with green sash and a trouser. He gave himself a quick stretched and proceed towards the front door when it suddenly creaked open, revealing Sameth with a couple of wooden boxes in his hands.

Sameth looked to Varin, surprised to see his young nephew up and about. “Where are you going?” he said.

Varin looked at the boxes. “I was about to go to father’s grave” he said. “What are those?” he points to the two boxes.

Sameth turned his head to the boxes. “Oh, this? Lunch. Lucia from the old diner place gave it to me on my way back” he said and placed the boxes on the table. “You’re going out now?” he turned to face Varin.

Varin looked to the open door. “Yeah, I’ll have lunch after I’m back” he said with a smile. He grabbed his overcoat and heads out, leaving his uncle shaking his head.

His father’s grave was a simple stone slab with his name and date of birth and death carved onto it. Varin stood overshadowing the stone slab. He read his father’s name again and again. His heart aches every time he did.

Varin kneeled in front of his father’s grave. He ran his hand on the stone slab, tracing the carvings with his fingers several times. “Father” his voice trails to a sob.

Varin dug deep into his pocket and produced the ring he took from his father’s corpse. He clenched the ring and grits his teeth. Trembling and filled with sadness, Varin screamed at the top of his lung scaring the birds from the nearby forest. He slammed his fists on the stone slab and screamed again.

“I will catch him father. I will catch that crippled man and I will have my revenge.”

The Old Sword part 4

2011-06-24T20:43:00.000+08:00

Varin stepped out of the wagon and ran towards the burnt down bar. “Father! Father!” he shouts, digging his hands into the black coals of burnt wood. The smell of flesh and ashes filled his senses he felt nothing. He felt no pain from the burning coal he touched. He heard no voices calling him to stop. He let no hands touched him as he dig deeper into the ruins of the bar.

“Father! Father!” he shouts alone.

Several of the nearby residence pushed the heavy chunk of woods away from Varin’s path. Some backed away, other watched with tear filled eyes. Kids held their mom tight, unable to watch the agony.

Varin pushed away the last of the debris, revealing a charred corpse sprawled with its neck nearly severed from its body.

The sight crushed Varin. He fell to his knees, mouth gaping. His body emptied of energy. The adrenaline he felt earlier left him. His trembling hand slides underneath the hand of the charred corpse and picked it up slowly.

“Father” he said with a trembling voice.

He grabbed the charred hand and watch in horror as it crumbles into jet black dusts leaving only a gold ring on his palm.

Varin gulped, but it stuck to his throat. His chest hurts, convoluted by all the feeling swelling inside him. He felt like screaming.

And he did.

Varin slammed his fists repeatedly into the remains of the bar. Above him, the dark sky growls and flashes in anger.

“Varin…” a voice came from behind Varin followed by a gentle tap to his shoulder.

Varin glanced over his shoulder. His eyes flooded, his vision blurred. Yet he knew the voice very well. “Uncle Sameth” his voice drowned by his sob.

“Varin… come, you need to rest” said Sameth.

Varin pushed Sameth’s hand with a nudge from his shoulder. “No…” he said. He pushed the charred hands of his father’s corpse towards its charred body, making sure nothing broken as he did so. “Father need to have a proper burial” he said.

Sameth placed his hand on Varin’s shoulder again, firmer this time. “Don’t worry, the others are already working on it. But first, we need to cover your father’s corpse before the rain falls” he said. He pulled Varin from beside his father’s charred corpse and let a team of people move in with a large canvas in their hands. He pulled Varin away from the ruins of the bar and held him close. “You need to rest first. We’ll find out who did this later” said Sameth.

Varin gulped. He gripped hard at Sameth’s shirt and broke into tears.

Hameed watched from the back ranks of the main prayer hall towards the place where the Grand Cleric sat. He had stood there in wait for the whole time, waiting for the cleansing ritual to begin. His first cleansing ritual ever since he was promoted into the ranks of Cleric. He wore his usual white robe with white skullcap. In his hand he held his wooden prayer beads which never stops moving. Somehow deep inside him he hoped to see something magnificent. A spectacle. Something magical. Yet another part of him dismissed such thought.

He let his gaze wandered the large prayer hall, moving from the people praying inside the hall to the large mosaics above him with the writings from the book.

The Grand Cleric moved away from his prayer mat and sat in front of the wrapped sword. Two of the senior Cleric moved from behind the Grand Cleric to the side of the sword each holding the book in their hands.

Hameed makes his way forward, bowing as he did, eager to watch the ritual.

Some of the attendance inside the prayer hall stopped praying and began to move closer towards the Grand Cleric, not knowing what was happening.

The Grand Cleric coughed. He took a deep breath and slowly opens his eyes to the sight of the beautiful sword. He shifts his seating and with grace, extends his hand to the black shiny sheath of the sword. He held the sheath for awhile, closed eyes and deep breath. Then with his other hand, he pulled the sword out of its sheath and placed it next to one another.

The Grand Cleric opened his eyes and turned his gaze towards one of the senior Cleric next to the sword. “Did Hameed ready the water and the lime?” he said.

The senior Cleric nods and carefully turned around. He picked up the basin filled with mixture of water from the Bottomless Well and few limes from the gardens around the prayer hall.

The Grand Cleric points for the senior cleric to place the basin between him and the sword. He then carefully picked the sword from the cloth and placed its blade inside the water as he murmurs along with it.

Like bathing a baby, the Grand Cleric cupped water from the basin and gently empties it onto the blade while his mouth murmurs the word from the book. He repeats the process several times; making sure every part of the blade is covered with mixed water.

Once finished, he turned to the other senior cleric. “Bring me a yellow cloth with yellow ropes” He said. The senior cleric nods and made his way outside.