Amber Swords Menu
CHAPTER III
When the Lightning Strikes
Octobre 30, 5599
The morning of Maidawn’s sixteenth birthday began with the sun shining and byrds singing in the trees outside her window. She said good morning in her mind to the asp tree that grew beside her home, as she did every morning, and it replied in kind. Maidawn could smell a cake baking in the stone oven, so she quickly dressed and left her room.
As she walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, she stopped and looked at a drawing hanging on the wall that she’d done when she was much younger. It was a picture of her family that she’d created with a piece of charcoal on a flat sheet of tree bark. It always made her smile when she looked at the stick figures of herself and the welcorgs. She touched the drawing, remembering Zift when he was smaller.
She continued down the hallway to the kitchen, where everyone seemed to be gathered, as if they were waiting for her.
“Happy birthday,” her family shouted as Wrecker jumped into her arms and gave her face a few licks. Maidawn put him down and gave him a kiss on top of his head. Straightening, she said, “Thank you.”
After everyone gave her a hug, they all sat down to breakfast. Betishine served up a huge meal of flapplejacks, wild bloar baquan, eggels, and cowoat milk. Maidawn ate more than her share, as this was a very special meal. It wasn’t often that her family had meals like this. She enjoyed her birthday breakfast immensely.
After breakfast was over, Zift volunteered to do the dishes, a job that usually fell to Maidawn. Being that it was her birthday, Maidawn gratefully accepted his offer. Soon, when everyone had gathered around the table again, Angustus said, “We believe we have something that’s intended for you.”
Maidawn thought, What do you mean by intended?
Angustus walked into the den and over to a long, leather-wrapped box that had always leaned against the large rock fireplace, and had to use both of his front pawhands to lift it into the air. Amazingly, being as strong as he was, it appeared that he struggled to hoist it up. He staggered for a moment, threw it up over a shoulder, then turned and carried it back into the kitchen. He grunted with the effort of lowering the box toward the table.
“Oh my,” Maidawn said as Angustus placed the present on the table with a loud thump.
“Heavy,” he panted, stepping back.
“What is it?” Maidawn asked with eyes wide.
Betishine piped in, “Open it and find out.” She clapped her pawhands together in anticipation.
Maidawn unwrapped the leather to find a very old metal box underneath. Grabbing the clasp in one hand, she flipped it down and pried the box open. The lid protested with a loud, rusty, metallic squeal. At the bottom of the box, on a stained white blanket, lay two amber-colored metal swords. A cloud moved from in front of the sun, and a beam of light entered through the kitchen window and landed on the swords. As they glittered in the sunlight, the entire kitchen was bathed in a yellowish-orange glow. Maidawn gasped at their magnificence.
“They’re beautiful, Father,” Maidawn said softly, running her fingers along the flat of one of the blades, careful not to cut herself on the edges.
“Where’d you get them? Are they real swords? Why are you giving them to me? ” she asked anxiously. Her wooden swords were nice, but these were spectacular.
Angustus looked at his beaming daughter, happy that she liked her birthday present. “So many questions,” he said, laughing.
Zift walked up to Maidawn and peered down at the swords in the box. “Nice! I wish I could use swords. Those would be fun to battle with.” He reached into the box, grabbed the pommel of the one on top, and tried to lift the sword over the lip of the box. He frowned as he struggled with the weight, lifted the pommel over the edge, found himself unable to hoist it any further, and finally let go as it was too heavy for him to maintain his grip. As it started to slip from Zift’s fingers, Maidawn instinctively grabbed the falling sword’s pommel. She smiled as she easily raised it out of the box and laid the sword on her lap.
Zift’s jaw fell open in amazement.
Maidawn ran her hand over the flat of the blade, admiring the smoothness of the metal. She grabbed the pommel again, stood while lifting it above her head, and swished it around in a circle a couple of times. As she sat back down, Maidawn laid it back on top of her legs.
“I thought you said it was heavy,” Maidawn said to Angustus with a frown.
“He did,” Zift replied looking confused. “It was! I couldn’t lift it! It’s very heavy!”
Angustus cleared his throat. “The swords, created with magic and then endowed by that same magic, have been in our family for many, many generations. How many, I cannot even begin to tell you. Somewhere around two thousand years or so, I believe. A long, long time ago, out of nowhere, a young monk named Brother Aramis approached my ancestor, Triaston. He gave him the swords and told him to hide them away.
“Triaston asked, ‘What good are swords to a welcorg? We cannot wield them.’
“‘They are not for you or your kind,’ Brother Aramis said, shaking his head. ‘Someday, far in the future, one of your descendants will adopt a human. The swords are to be given to that person. He’ll unite the races and stop all of the fighting.’
“‘A human? I sincerely doubt it,’ Triaston said with a frown. ‘Welcorgs do not associate with humans anymore.’
“‘That’s true,’ Brother Aramis said forcefully, ‘but it’s been foreordained. You and your family must protect these swords with your lives. The fate of the world is in your pawhands.’
“After Brother Aramis left, Triaston placed the swords in a metal box and buried them under the floor in his house. Before he passed away, he told his son about the swords. The swords were passed down every generation until my father told me about them. I expected to give them to Zift one day, but that seems to be unnecessary now.”
Maidawn looked down at the sword on her lap then back at her father, her mouth agape.
Angustus stared directly into Maidawn’s eyes. “You are the only human to be adopted into our family. Although Brother Aramis referred to a boy, he must have been mistaken. These magical swords were meant to be wielded by you, Maidawn. I see that now because you’re the only one that can lift them without effort. They were meant for you, and for you alone.”
“Me?” Maidawn asked with wide eyes. “Why me? I’m no one special.”
“I don’t have an answer for you,” Angustus said as he looked down at the sword on Maidawn’s lap. “But they are yours now. And don’t think I don’t know about you up on that hill of yours. I’ve watched you practicing with your wooden swords many times and I’m sure that these swords will be more effective than your old ones.”
Maidawn blushed. “I didn’t know anyone had ever seen me.”
Angustus beamed proudly, “We’ve all watched you, at one time or another. You’re a very talented swordswoman. It’s as if the swords are an extension of your arms.”
“I see nothing,” complained Wrecker, looking around in confusion.
Zift patted Maidawn on her shoulder while Betishine smiled.
Maidawn blushed even more. “Thank you, Father.”
She looked down at the fine metal sword on her lap and then at the other still in the box. They were both straight and about three feet long. On the end of pommel of both swords was a small amber jewel. Stamped onto the guard of the one on her lap was a small symbol of a majestic asp tree.
“I’ll treasure these always,” Maidawn said as she ran her hands carefully over the symbol. She gripped the leather-wrapped pommel of the sword on her lap, and this time the blade began to glow green. Her family witnessed a puzzled look appear on Maidawn’s face.
Maidawn thought, Your name is Jati, isn’t it? she asked the sword in her mind. Yes, Jati. I can hear it.
She reached into the box for the other sword. She lifted it out and looked at the symbol, which was one of a lightning bolt.
What’s your name? she thought, peering at the sword. The blade of the sword began to glow orange as Maidawn’s eyes widened. Torrid. That’s your name. Jati and Torrid.
The family didn’t seem to notice the glowing or realize that the swords had spoken to Maidawn. All they witnessed was the sixteen-year-old girl smiling.
Placing both of the swords back on top of the table, she stood up and hugged her parents. She punched Zift in the shoulder, who laughed, and proceeded to play with Wrecker for a couple of seconds.
Maidawn spent the rest of the day cleaning and polishing the swords. She tried to talk with them more, but all she got out of them was their names. The pommels needed some work, as they had grown tattered over the centuries, and she ended up taking all the old leather off and rewrapping them with some new leather Angustus had lying around. Finally, late into the night, she moved the swords aside, satisfied with how they looked, and climbed into bed.
She lay there for a while wondering why the swords had been left for her. She also wondered why the swords seemed to be alive. Was it the magic that created them that gave them life? If so, why? For what purpose did they serve? And, how did she fit into the picture?
Finally, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming about practicing with them on her hill.
The next morning, Maidawn awoke to the smell of her mother’s cooking. She threw back her sheets, jumped into her clothes, ran her fingers through her short hair, and hurried down the hall to the kitchen. There, she wolfed down the breakfast her mother had made, sprinted outside to do her morning chores, and then darted back into the house thirty minutes later, breathing hard.
“Would you mind if I took my new swords up to my hill to practice?” she asked her mother, wringing her hands together in anticipation.
“Not at all, honey,” Betishine replied. “Just be careful with the blades. They’re a lot sharper than your wooden swords. I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.”
“I will, Mother,” Maidawn said over her shoulder while running back to her room. She picked up the box of swords, ran down the hallway, and flew though the kitchen out the door. “I’ll be back shortly,” she yelled.
Betishine smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm.
With her head turned back to yell to her mother, Maidawn ran right into the side of Angustus. He hardly moved with the impact, but she ended up on her rump in the dirt. Laughing, she hopped up and apologized, kissed her father on his nose, and was about to run off when he raised a hand to stop her.
“Maidawn, both swords have scabbards that attach to this,” Angustus said pulling a harness from his leather satchel and grabbing the two scabbards that were leaning against the outside of their cottage. “You’ll need to try it on so we can make some adjustments. It needs to fit properly.”
Maidawn took the harness, held it out in front of her and tried to figure out how to strap it on. After a few moments of flipping it this way and that, she slipped it over her head and ran both arms through. It formed an “X” on her front and back and had a metal loops on both sides of the belt portion that went around her waist. She adjusted the right strap, and then the left until it fit snuggly on her small frame. Turning toward her father, she took one of the scabbards from him. She noted that it had the image of the tree stamped into the leather, so she figured it was for Jati. She clipped it onto the metal loop on her right side. She then picked up Torrid’s scabbard and clipped it onto the metal loop on her left side while observing the lightning bolt on it. Using the loose leather straps on both scabbards, she secured each scabbard to the harness so they would not flop around when she walked. Picking up Jati, Maidawn slid the sword home into its scabbard and then did the same with Torrid. She planted her feet, crossed both arms across her stomach to grab the pommels of the swords, and drew them out of the scabbards quickly, holding both in front of her in a defensive pose. Both swords began to glow.
Maidawn gasped. They both felt perfect in her hands. She could hear them inside her head. Now, they were talking with her, telling her how excited they were to be with her, how they would never fail her. Maidawn smiled at this unexpected turn of events.
“Father, I’m going up to my hill to practice now,” Maidawn said as she slid both swords home.
“Be careful,” Angustus said. “As your mother said, those aren’t your wooden swords, and they do have very sharp edges.”
Maidawn looked down at the swords at her waist and smiled. “I’ll be careful, but they won’t hurt me,” she said. “I’ll be back before lunch time.”
Maidawn stopped at her bag hanging outside the kitchen door and grabbed her water skin. She fondly touched the bag containing her wooden swords, knowing she would never need them again. She walked over to the town well and filled the water skin, thinking she would probably be up on the hill for a while testing out her new swords. Maidawn turned and made her way to the trailhead. As she walked, the scabbards bumped lightly against her legs, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Actually, it felt quite natural, as if she’d been wearing them all her life.
Arriving on top of the hill, Maidawn hung the water skin from the broken branch on the tree, sat down and meditated for a bit, feeling that strange bit of magic inside her. Finally, she stood up and stretched. She walked over to the very top of the hill and looked around. It was a beautiful sunny morning, not a cloud in sight, and she could see for myles over the Sherran Hills.
Maidawn widened her stance and then drew Jati and Torrid from their scabbards. They instantly started to glow green and orange. Although they were heavier than her wooden swords, the magic in them seemed to make them lighter than they should be. In fact, they felt about the same weight as the wooden swords she’d practiced with for years. She looked at them in her hands and marveled at their beauty. They both began to talk with her, telling her to start using them. They wanted to swing free in the wind.
Maidawn nodded at the swords and thought, All right.
As she always did, Maidawn began the ritual practice of moving the swords around in interweaving circles. Soon, she had the swords moving so fast that they were hard to distinguish from one another. Maidawn’s arms were a flurry of steel, creating an impenetrable barrier in front of her. For an hour, she performed every move she knew, both defensive and offensive.
To anyone watching, which Zift was doing from behind a boulder slightly down the hill, what Maidawn was accomplishing with her new swords seemed impossible. Angustus has sent him to watch over his sister while she practiced with her new swords for the first time. Her father didn’t want the young girl slicing off a leg or something.
As her workout neared its conclusion, with sweat flowing freely from every pore, Maidawn suddenly felt the magic within her blossom. It coursed throughout her body, from the top of her head down to the toes of her feet. Every cell in her body became energized, as if electricity were flowing through them. Her swords began to glow brighter and brighter. Jati and Torrid grew suddenly silent in her head, as if they couldn’t comprehend what was going on, but knew that something special was happening.
Suddenly, the asp tree behind Maidawn began to sing. It wasn’t a soft song — it belted out a tune in its loudest voice. The song was filled with such happiness that Maidawn began to cry as she continued to practice, the magic preventing her from stopping.
Zift frowned as he watched the asp tree near Maidawn start swaying and decided to head up the hill. He couldn’t hear the tree singing, like Maidawn. He didn’t understand why the tree was moving because there wasn’t any wind. He pushed that thought out of his mind, and his eyes returned to his sister. Upon reaching the top of the hill, he sat down under the lone, swaying asp tree beside the water skin while leaves fell down around him like snowflakes in winter. Every asp tree in the Tenebrous Forest, which was visible to the north, began to sing and sway back and forth. Zift looked toward the forest in amazement and confusion.
The wind started to blow while clouds rapidly formed overhead. As the clouds massed above Maidawn, the light dimmed while the cloud cover grew thicker and darker. A rumble was heard, and then lightning crackled down from the sky to strike the ground twenty feet away from Maidawn. She looked to the left at the smoking spot with wide eyes, and then another bolt streaked down from the clouds to strike another spot nearby. And then another, and another, and another. Soon the hill was dotted with small, burnt circles sending up tendrils of smoke, which were quickly blown away by gusts of wind. All the while, Maidawn’s swords were a flurry of steel.
Zift didn’t dare leave the sanctuary of the asp tree, even though he knew it wasn’t safe to remain under a tree in a lightning storm. But this was no ordinary storm, and he knew it.
Maidawn realized that she was somehow responsible for the strange weather and the trees singing, but had no idea how to control them. The magic continued pouring out of her body in waves, and she found she couldn’t stop it or her swinging swords. The rain started to fall in sheets.
Her magic peaked and exploded out of her in a blinding flash of amber light as her arms flung out to her sides, both swords falling from her outstretched fingers. The explosion traveled outward, cresting the top of the forest, causing all of the trees to bend with the circle of magic as it expanded outward. With her magic spent, Maidawn moaned and then dropped to her knees before collapsing onto her left side, utterly exhausted. She laid in the wet grass shivering.
Zift leapt from under the protection of the tree and rushed to his sister’s side. He could see that she was still alive, so he picked her up, and carried her under the branches of the asp tree. He didn’t notice, but the branches of the tree moved to form a waterproof roof over their heads. Zift propped Maidawn up against the trunk of the tree, brushing her wet hair off her face. Taking down her water skin, he squirted a small amount into her mouth, which Maidawn drank slowly.
She was so tired.
Zift went back out into the wind and rain to retrieve the swords. Once again, he was amazed by their weight and had to use all of his strength to drag them one at a time under the tree.
How can Maidawn wield such heavy weapons when I can barely lift them? he wondered. He slid them back inside their scabbards and left them lying on the ground.
I’ll come back for these as soon as I get Maidawn home, he thought. I need to get her to Mother. She’ll know what to do.
Zift gently lifted Maidawn onto his back, grabbed her hanging arms under his neck with his left pawhand, and headed back down the trail to Whails on three legs. The trail was slippery with the water running down it, but having three pawhands on the ground with extended claw fingers enabled him to get home without falling or dropping Maidawn.
They were both drenched by the time they arrived at the cottage.
Zift slammed open the door and made his way into the kitchen. Betishine turned around in shock and raised a pawhand to her face, gasping in surprise.
“Oh, my,” she said, rushing to Zift’s side to take Maidawn off his back. “What happened?”
“She collapsed,” was all that Zift offered as his mother took her from him.
“Did she cut herself with her new swords?” Betishine asked, worriedly running her pawhands over Maidawn’s body.
“No, but I have to go retrieve her swords,” Zift said after placing Maidawn’s water skin on the table and heading back out the open door. “I’ll be back shortly, I hope,” he said, shutting the door behind him.
Betishine carried the shaking girl to her room, removed her daughter’s wet clothes, and put her into bed. Grabbing a towel, she dried Maidawn’s hair as best as she could and then headed back into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of warm stones from around the oven to place under Maidawn’s sheets. She sat beside Maidawn’s bed until the girl stopped shivering and fell into a peaceful sleep.
After two exhausting trips back up the hill to retrieve Maidawn’s swords, Zift collapsed on the living room floor utterly spent. He laid there for a few minutes, his breathing and heart rate slowing down until they was once again normal. He sat up and described what had happened up on the hill to Angustus, who frowned during the telling. Betishine listened from the doorway of Maidawn’s room, glancing back and forth between her son and daughter. Wrecker, not sure what was going on, played with an insect that had found its way inside.
“I’m not exactly sure what happened, Father,” Zift said. “While she was practicing with her new swords, everything just went crazy.”
Angustus shook his head, truly worried for Maidawn’s sake.
“When the lightning started striking all around her, I wanted to rescue her but dared not leave the protection of the tree.”
“You did the right thing, Zift,” his father said. “All that really matters is that she’s home safe now. Let’s hope that when she wakes up she’ll be fine.”
As the two males stopped talking, nodding to each other, Betishine looked at Maidawn once again, still sleeping peacefully. She pulled the door toward her, leaving it open just a crack, so she could hear her daughter if she cried out.
As soon as Maidawn’s head had hit the pillow, she’d fallen into a deep sleep and ended up having the strangest of dreams. In her first dream, she was traveling through a piney tree forest with some companions. Zift was there by her side, and on the other side of her was a young female elf carrying a bow with a quiver of arrows on her back. Ahead of them was a young male dwarf that had a large battleaxe strapped to his chest, and beside him was a male black and white centaur holding a halberd in both hands. There was also an older human female in a long robe. Two shadows also appeared to be accompanying the party, as if they were figures she couldn’t see. As they walked along between the trees, they were chatting and laughing. In her bed, Maidawn smiled.
In her second dream, Maidawn and her companions were on a beach with giant waves crashing onto the sand behind them. The wind was howling and the rain was pelting them on their backs. Soaking wet, they were running from the shore toward the trees, and arrows from a ship offshore were falling all about them. Just as they were about to enter the trees, an arrow pierced Zift’s hindquarters and he howled in pain. Maidawn’s body twitched in her bed.
In her third dream, Maidawn saw herself, leading humans, dwarves, centaurs, and elves against a huge mass of blorcs, yellow goblins, and slime trolls. They were outnumbered at least four to one. As the enemy ran up the large volcano avoiding the flowing lava rivers toward Maidawn and her army, the asp trees at the bottom of the hill rustled. Maidawn raised her swords and let out a mighty battle cry. As she charged down the volcano with her army right behind, lightning bolts struck the combatants, sending them flying, but it wasn’t enough to stop all of them. The trees uprooted and started attacking the rear flank of the blorcs while the elven archers fired arrow after arrow into the approaching hoard. Maidawn waded into the fighting, swinging Jati and Torrid left and right, slicing apart blorcs and yellow goblins as she made her way down the hill toward the flags that marked the commander of the encroaching army.
Maidawn tossed and turned in her bed, a whimper escaping her lips.