Fade To Black, The Curseborn Saga, Book 1

Chapter 3 - The Calm Before the Storm

"And such is the tale of Fenrir," Ronin finished. "Or at least, the version I heard."

Storm stared quietly at the flames flickering in the dark. He had never heard a story that resonated with him as much as Fenrir's tale, and he found himself feeling deeply inspired.

"Wow," said Caim finally. "I think that's my favorite story you've ever told us."

Ronin smiled. "I thought you might like it."

"He has the same dream as me," said Storm. "I always knew it would be hard to become the greatest swordsman to ever live, but if I have to surpass Fenrir, I'm going to have to really give it my all."

"That you will," said Ronin. "It is an ambitious dream, to say the least, but I think it fits you like a glove. There will be moments where you feel like all is lost, and in those moments, you will know that there was, at least, one other, who made the impossible, possible."

"Nah, grandpa," said Caim, his tone slightly timid. "You said that when we surpass our final swordsmanship test, you would give us our first swords. Do you think we'll really be ready? I mean, you've only let us use wooden swords up until now."

Ronin took a long, steady breath, whilst staring into the pits of the fire. "That is a difficult question to answer, Caim. But I think it's time you boys knew the truth of the matter."

Storm and Caim both glanced up. "The truth?"

Ronin met each of their eyes one by one. "I was lying when I said you would be given your swords upon completing the final test."

"Lying!?" Caim cried, jumping to his feet. "So, we don't get our swords after all? We have to chase nowls and go down to the darkness and face ourselves?"

Storm merely stared at the old man, quietly waiting for him to elaborate.

"Not quite," said Ronin. "For it is only with real swords that your final test can be done. The acquiring of your first swords is a symbol of the danger that you will face in conquering the trial. It is the final stepping stone from an apprentice to a full-fledged swordsman."

Storm's eyes widened. "Wait . . . you don't mean?"

Caim sat there blankly, waiting for him to say what he hoped he would say.

"Caim, take a seat," said Ronin. "I want you boys to look into the depths of this fire and tell me what you see."

Storm sat up straight and stared into the flames. He watched as they licked the wood and soon found that the tongues of flame were similar to the wind itself. They were elusive, irregular, and impossible to catch. But deep within the flames, lying amongst the wood and the coal, were two strange stones that caught his eye.

"I see a dragon," said Caim. "And a sandwich."

Storm tried not to smile. "There's something other than wood in the fire, isn't there?"

Ronin nodded. "Yes, there is."

"That's what I meant," said Caim, scratching his head.

Storm found that each stone was about the size of his palm, with flames dancing around them.

"But, what are they?" Caim asked.

"For each and every unique sword that is ever tempered," Ronin began. "The blacksmith creates whetstones to match. Look at them like a sheath to the sword. A sword can only be sheathed by its proper counterpart, for the sheath was built for one purpose and one purpose alone."