The Living Sword (2 page)

Instead of speaking, Zasashi stood up and walked over to one of the few pieces of furniture the house had. Eurik knew what was in the chest, and couldn't figure out what a spare set of clothes had to do with his parents. Uncertain, he stood up as well.

Zasashi's broad back prevented him from seeing what he'd retrieved from the chest, until the san straightened back up and turned around. He held a sheathed sword. At least, Eurik thought that's what it was. Up until now he thought there weren't any on the island. The san certainly didn't need weapons.

“This is what I found you with,” Zasashi explained. “There were no supplies, save a single, empty water-skin, and none of you were wearing much clothing. Your parents had untreated injuries as well. I do not know what happened, but it was clearly unexpected. Yet even then, they still took the time to take this weapon with them.”

“Why didn't you show me this before?” Eurik reached out to the sword with his hand. The copper of the pommel and guard glowed in the soft light of the room.

“You were too young. I was worried you would not treat this connection to your past with the proper caution. And we were concerned at first about its power.”

“Its power?” He asked as he took the sword from Zasashi by the scabbard. It was a little longer than his arm, and heavier than he'd expected. Holding it up, he noticed an intricate pattern of markings on both the pommel and the guard. At the heart of the pattern on the guard was an undecorated bump.

“Why don't you try and find out for yourself,” Zasashi prompted.

Taking a hold of the grip with his left, Eurik drew the blade out of its sheath. The thick guard was only a little wider than the blade itself, which ran straight for much of its length before tapering off into a point. Above the hilt some sort of design had been etched into the blade. Tracing the line with his eyes, Eurik attempted to puzzle out its significance. 'A crescent moon? Except it's only pointed at one end. Could be a rain drop, if it weren't for that curve. A claw, maybe?'

Hoping to find another clue on the other side, Eurik turned the sword over only to find another design on that side. It had a rounded base and curved lines, like the first design, but it ended in two prongs, one slightly longer than the other. Its meaning mystified Eurik. And he'd yet to find any hint of the power Zasashi had spoken of.

Closing his eyes, he reached out with his other senses for the
chiri
in the blade to see what that could tell him. The reaction was immediate.

The sword shivered in his hand. “Hehe, stop that! It tickles,” the weapon said in a deep voice.

Startled, Eurik lost his grip on the blade. It hit the wooden floor with a clang and an angry exclamation. “Hey, watch it!” What he'd mistaken for a bump opened like an eyelid, and what looked like an actual eye stared balefully at him. Its black pupil stood out starkly against the white of its eye. “Somebody could lose a foot like that. I'm sharp, you know.”

“It's a living sword,” he remarked looking up at his
sesin
. “I've read of them, but how–”

“Oy, I'm right here. Don't ignore me!”

Eurik blinked and looked back down at the sword. “Uh, I'm sorry?”

“You should be. If you got questions, ask them. Don't pretend I'm not even here. I got feelings too!”

He didn't respond immediately, unsure how to rephrase the question. “How, ah, did you end up in the boat with me?”

“Your parents forged me,” the sword stated proudly. “I am the first living sword made by Eurik One Claw and Kaite the Ardent.”

“Eurik?” he repeated. 'I share my name with him.' An emotion he could not name welled up in his chest and tears pricked his eyes. “What–” the youth had to clear his throat before he could ask his question. “What were they like?”

The sword kept quiet for a moment. “I don't know,” it finally admitted.

“What?” Eurik shouted.

“Their deaths woke me up, and I wasn't supposed to yet. My first clear memory is of a couple of grim green giants standing over me doing who-knows-what to me. Felt like a lightning bolt shoved up my pommel,” it muttered as its eye aimed itself at Zasashi.

“Then how do you know who made you? How do you know they're my parents?”

“I simply know. I have no idea where the knowledge came from, but it is a part of me. I know my creators, and I recognize them in you.”

Zasashi, who had remained quiet as Eurik had interrogated the weapon, spoke up. “Now you see why I did not show you this before. We knew what it was, but it would not speak to us for several years. And after it did finally tell us what little it knew, I realized all it could do was upset you. Now, however, you can do something with this knowledge.”

“By leaving the island,” Eurik finished for him, still unconvinced. “It would mean halting my training while I do.”

“Nonsense,” Zasashi scoffed. “You might not have mastered Earth, but you know it. And you're already well on your way familiarizing yourself with Wind. The other masters and I have taught you, have guided you to the path, but it is your work that will get you down it. The truth is, the only person you need to master a Way, is you, Eurik.” Eurik stayed quiet, flattered by his
sesin
's confidence in him.

“Very touching,” the sword said, shattering the moment. “Now can somebody get me off of this damn floor. I rust easily, you know!”

Eurik frowned at the sword. “Aren't living swords supposed to be tougher than a normal weapon?”

“Ha, a normal weapon. I'm not talking about some inanimate piece of steel. I'm comparing myself to you. You don't rust, I do. So I rust easily. Simple, irrefutable logic. Now, please, pick me up and put me back in my scabbard.” Mulling the request over for a moment, Eurik shrugged and did as the weapon requested.

“The name's Misthell, by the way,” the sword, Misthell, told him as Eurik sheathed the blade.

Chapter 2

Crossing Over

Bird song echoed in the unraveling mists of the early morning. Eurik tried to listen to it. He wouldn't have another chance for a long time to come. There would be new sounds, and new sights. Some of them might even remind him of home, but it wouldn't be the same.

The unfamiliar weight on his back reminded him that it already wasn't the same. Not his pack; he'd camped outside before. No, it was the sword looking out over his back that caused Eurik to roll his shoulders. And it wasn't the only change. His gaze went down, sliding past his new sleeves to the boots encasing his feet. His new clothes had felt oddly restrictive since he'd tried them out the day before.

Zasashi noticed where his attention had drifted to. “It can get rather cold out there. And Hoyashi assured us that they'll make you stand out less.”

Eurik looked back up. “I am not ashamed of where I come from.”

“Nor could you hide it even if you wanted to. Your upbringing here marks you in a thousand different ways. No, Eurik, this is not about hiding. It is about putting others at ease. People are on their guard in the presence of the unfamiliar. A valid instinct, but a hindrance if you want to get to know them.”

“Hence the clothes.”

Zasashi nodded, and they fell back into silence. Neither of them broke it as they walked down the stone road to the only pier of the island, where the sole ship of the san was moored. Eurik could already see the white of
Ichiru
's curled sail through the trees. It wouldn't be long now.

Hoyashi,
Ichiru
's captain, raised his hand in greeting as their feet hit the solid stone pier, before he turned his attention back to overseeing the final loading of his ship. Two younger san carried a crate between them into the hold of the ship.

Patheos stood close to the tiller, leaning against the railing while he watched them work. He must have noticed Hoyashi's actions, because as the captain turned back to his work, the scholar looked in Eurik's direction. His wrinkled face lit up at seeing him. “Come to wave me off, have you?”

“Actually, I'm here to take you up on your offer. I'm leaving the island.”

Patheos' eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Oh?”

“You were right. I didn't know my future. I've learned some things since we last spoke. It raised questions, which I cannot find the answers to on the island.” Eurik stopped there, unsure if he wanted to tell Patheos about his parents. It had been easy when they were nameless shadows, but that had changed.

“Would the sword looking at me over your shoulder have anything to do with it?”

Eurik nodded, but said nothing. Patheos caught on that he didn't want to talk about it, and didn't press.

“I hope you've already said your goodbyes to Master Zasashi, because we are leaving now,” Hoyashi informed them, breaking the silence. “The wind's right and the tide is going out. Get aboard and stow your belongings in the passenger-quarters,” he instructed Eurik, pointing at a tent set up on deck in front of the mast.

“Yes, let's get out of this salty air,” Misthell chimed in.

Ignoring the blade, Eurik turned to Zasashi and bowed. “I won't forget all you've thought me,
sesin
. And I shall return.” His teacher returned the bow with a slow nod. Words were unnecessary, Eurik already knew what Zasashi would have said and the san knew as well.

Not looking back, Eurik hopped onto the ship followed by Hoyashi who made his way to the back of the ship. The younger san, the one that had loaded the last of the cargo, untied the ship from its moorings and then jumped back onto the ship. Two older san raised the sail at the same time. It caught the wind with a loud snap.

Eurik rushed to put his pack in the tent. He'd never been on the ship when it was moving and he didn't want to miss a thing. “Are you sure you want to stay inside?” he asked the sword after he'd taken him off of his back.

“Forsake feeling the wind pass my hilt, the spray on my pommel? Or stay here where it's dry and I won't corrode into a brittle lump of metal. Tough choice.”

Instead of dignifying his sarcastic comment, Eurik shook his head and backed out of the tent. He put his hands on the railing and leaned over just enough to see the water part as the ship sliced through it.

Excitement fluttered in his chest as the ship glided over the crest of each wave. He'd run this fast on his own, yet it felt different standing on the deck and letting the ship do the work.

He looked out at the mist banks hiding the rocky outcrops responsible for the end of so many ships. Eurik wasn't afraid, though. The reason for his trust stood at the bow. Yuyesho, the pilot, had his hands on the railing, feet braced apart. He looked lost to the world. He used the Water
chiri
seeping through the wood of the ship to make contact with the
chiri
in the sea. Listening to its song, Yuyesho could feel where the water flowed, and where it flowed around something. Thus he navigated the ship around the obstacles in the water.

The san raised his right hand and held up two fingers. Eurik didn't know what that signal meant, but Hoyashi did. Wood creaked and the sound of the waves splashing against the hull changed in pitch as the ship banked a little to the right.

The world started to dim, to blur, and finally vanished in a gray soup that closed in on them. It wasn't as thick as it could be; looking back Eurik could still see Hoyashi at the tiller. But not all the dangers were above the water. Somewhere water sloshed. Was it off to the side, or was the sound caused by a sharp rock waiting in their path?

Worry started to worm its way into his belly. Eurik had never been this far from the island. If they shipwrecked here even he wouldn't be able to swim back. The currents would carry him out to sea, after battering him about a bit in the stoney maze. His breathing deepened and in reflex Eurik sought the sure strength of Earth. But it wasn't there.

'Get a hold of yourself,' he berated himself. 'They know what they're doing, they've done it hundreds of times. It's perfectly safe.'

Only now did he feel a need to look back one last time and see his home. To burn the image of the island spread out behind him into his mind. He turned and looked past the stern. In the mist there were shapes that might have been the island. Or a trick of the eye. Eurik wasn't home anymore, and he wouldn't be for a long time to come. Tears pricked his eyes so he looked forward again.

Yuyesho was still there, intent on his task. Another piece of the life he knew that would be gone all too soon. The world got blurrier, though the mist hadn't thickened.

***

“Ah, a little higher, higher, right there,” Misthell instructed Eurik with a half-lidded eye. The sword basked in his attempt to clean and oil the weapon. Eurik had been shown how to do that by one of the san smiths, and the blade insisted he practice the skill regularly.

It was the second day of their voyage and Eurik already felt homesick. Neither the bright sun hanging in a nearly cloudless sky, nor the favorable wind propelling them swiftly to the mainland could lift his spirits.

His sword, on the other hand, seemed to be warming to sea-travel. “This is the life,” Misthell opined. “Though I'm starting to wonder when you'll begin to use me.”

He paused in his work to direct a questioning look at the eye now looking back at him. “Use you?”

“You know, stabbing, cutting, slashing, slicing, parrying, blocking, and all the other stuff you're supposed to do with a sword. When are you going to train using me? Don't get me wrong, I am eager to get started,” the blade rushed to add. “I'd like some time to prepare myself mentally for it, that's all. A little warning before the scratching, the scuffing, and the chipping begins.” It shook in his hands.

“I have no intention of doing that until I've found someone who can teach me,” Eurik told the sword. “I know enough about fighting to know that I have no idea how to wield you properly.”

“And thus avoid learning bad habits your future instructor will have to break you off from. That alone will earn you his gratitude.” Eurik looked over at Patheos who took a seat near him on the deck. “If you're thinking of staying in Linese for awhile I can help you find a teacher. Don't know one off the top of my head, never were one for swordplay myself beyond the basics. But you can find everything in the City.”