Legacies

[Eurydice]

((The saga of the new Six Swords begins!))

“…and when I finally got out to have a look, there was the poor boy standing there in nothing but his underwear.”

Maura and Cloche broke out into gales of laughter, as the woman telling the story, Headmistress Cille of the healers’ school, smiled with a mischievous glint in her eye and raised her teacup as if in a mock toast.

It was the last night of the second month they’d spent in Mirdral. They’d come to Cloche and Lagoon’s hometown so that Catalina would be able to continue forging the swords and with the eventual hope that they might soon open the tomb where the swords of the previous six were buried. Although the newly formed order still lacked a champion of order and one of earth, Lagoon was ever-confident that somehow, the universe would send appropriate swordsmen their way, sooner or later.

At the moment, he and Amiel were watching Catalina working on the swords in Great-Grandfather Brond’s forge, while Cloche and Maura had tea with the Headmistress, an old family friend of the Sakis twins.

It was late evening when the two girls headed out from the healers' school, their laughter still echoing down the narrow entrance hall. “Well,” said Maura, scratching Asriel’s head as he padded along beside her. “She’s fun.”

Cloche grinned, thinking how different her memories of the old women were. “Indeed. I always thought she was rather stodgy when I was little.” She giggled, opening the door into the moonlit night. “I suppose time can change one’s impression of a person.”

Off in her own world, still thinking on the good food and pleasant company of the evening, Maura didn’t even notice that Cloche had stopped short in the door frame until she had walked into her. “What…?”

Cloche was looking down to where a young man was lying across the front step, battered and bruised, sprawled like a marionette with its strings severed. His clothes were tattered under well-worn armor, and his face, covered in a dozen minor scratches, and his closely-cropped blond hair almost glowed in the pale light of the moon. “Oh dear.” She knelt beside him, nodding in relief when she found a pulse. “He’s unconscious,” she added as Maura knelt beside her.

“Go get the Headmistress?” asked Maura, looking back towards the way they’d come. “I can bring him in.”

With a nod, Cloche stood and headed back inside. “I’ll go; take him to the second room on the right.”

Carefully making sure not to hold him too firmly by any of the larger cuts and bruises, Maura slipped her arms under the young man’s body and gingerly lifted him. There was a slight clatter of his armor, metal sliding against metal, as she carried him inside as Cloche had instructed. Cloche, for her part, was already there with Headmistress Cille and an instructer, an older man, who hurried forward to the bed as Maura came in. “Yes, put him down right there.”

She laid the young man down on the bed, all the time worried that with a careless slip she’d set him down to hard in the wrong place. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him more in the process of getting him help. She stepped back as the gray-haired man rolled up his sleeves and began cleaning the wounds with a clean cloth. “By’r lady, what happened to him?”

Maura looked at Cloche and shrugged. “No idea. He was just lying there when we opened the door.”

The man nodded slightly, although Maura was pretty sure that he was only half paying attention to her, if that, much more interested in tending to the battered figure on the bed. “Good that ye found him, then,” he said, absently, unrolling a strip of bandage and scrutinizing the young man’s arm with an obviously trained eye.

“Just luck.” Maura shrugged. “If we hadn’t found him, someone else would have.”

Cloche leaned forward, trying to get a better look, as the old instructor continued to nod and pay no attention to Maura. “Is there anything we can do—” she started to ask, but Cille was already steering the two of them towards the door. “No, I don’t think so, dearie. You two can wait outside.” She gently shooed them out into the hall with a friendly but firm, “I’ll let you know when you can see him,” and closed the door behind them.

The two girls glanced at each other and, as one, tip-toed to the door and pressed their ears against the cracks.

If either of them had been expecting anything out of the ordinary, they were out of luck; all they heard was the metallic clank of armor being removed, followed by a few words of brief instruction and a healing prayer, one which sent a faint blue light streaming out from the cracks of the door.

Maura listened to the musical strains of the prayer wistfully. “Think he’ll be alright?”

Her ear still against the door, Cloche nodded. “I do believe so. Headmistress Cille and Brother Oldman are the finest healers in Mirdral.” She straightened and took a step back, authoritatively satisfied with the situation for the moment. “I’ll go tell Brother and the others what’s going on. You wait here.”

“Hurry back,” Maura said, glancing uneasily toward the room and the injured figure within, wondering just what had trashed him so easily. “I don’t want to think about whatever did that to him.”

With a devilish smile, Cloche held up a finger, a tiny ribbon of flame dancing from its tip. “Worry not for me, Maura. The queen’s fury can be terrible.” With a flourish and a grin, she headed for the front door and disappeared.

***

Maura sat by the young knight’s bedside, shuffling her feet. The two healers had finished their work a little while ago and had left her to sit with him until he awoke. All they had been able to say was that he had what looked like a wolf bite on one arm and that he’d probably been attacked—“Summa that blood ain’t ‘is,” Oldman had noted as he washed his hands. “More blood on ‘im than wounds”—before they had gone.

Asriel was standing by the bed, sniffing at him curiously, pushing his face right up against the young man’s. Maura sat forward. “Oi, you. Leave him alone.” The wolf ignored her, sniffing about and nosing the fellow until he was satisfied and returned to Maura, curling up at her feet.

The smaller cuts were fading visibly, a process which Maura watched with mild nostalgia, thinking about the old days in temple when she’d watched the healers pick up basics like getting rid of little cuts and bruises with ease, while she, inept as always, never managed to manifest anything more than a mild cold.

The young man stirred, and Maura sat upright again, watching him hopefully; she did want to know what on earth he’d gotten into out there. Maybe the currently-four-of-six swords (Not much of a name, she thought, and we can’t rightly call ourselves the Six Swords with only two thirds of us, now can we?) could help deal with it, whatever it was. At the very least, they could do this one a favor. Or maybe it was a tale of how he’d single-handedly devastated a terrible foe but barely escaped with his life. Either way, Maura sat forward, curious to know.

Dark eyes fluttered open, blinking back sleep. The young man looked about groggily, his eyes locking on Maura. And, sitting bolt upright, he screamed.

[Eurydice]

Maura jumped a mile at the young man’s awakening and hurried over to kneel beside him, hands on his shoulders. “Hey, hey! Calm down. You’re fine; you’re safe.”

The young man, chest and arm tattered in bandages, looked about uncertainly and then locked his dark eyes in her bright blue ones. “Who… who are you? And where am I?” His chest was heaving, but he was already starting to calm himself. He felt delicately at the bandages thickly spattering his chest.

For her part, Maura was still holding him by the shoulders, her voice firm and clear. “My name’s Maura, and we found you just outside.” She glanced at his arm, thickly wrapped in white cloth, and winced sympathetically, imagining the ragged fang marks underneath. “Just lie down, okay?” she asked, trying a pleading tone. “The healers here are gonna kill me if they think I’m trying to get you up and about too quickly.”

“Healers…” The young man closed his eyes; images of the last few moments before he had passed out fluttered before his vision. “…oh, right... The school in Mirdral…” He lay back, breathing evenly.

Beside Maura, Asriel was pressing against his mistress’ side. Maura kept her voice clear, straightforward. “Right. The school. Where did you come from, and what happened? Who attacked you?”

He put a hand to his forehead, frowning slightly, shaking his head. “Slow down, slow down. Let me think.”

Maura grinned, embarrassed, and sat back on her heels. “Sorry.”

Whatever they had given him to make him sleep was wearing off, and memories of what had just happened came back more readily to the young knight as he lay there, silent for another moment. When he spoke, he spoke slowly, careful and deliberate. “I was in the forest. Looking for bandits.” He opened his eyes and nodded, sitting up slowly. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Looks like you found bandits,” Maura interjected, eyeing the bandages.

He turned and focused on her again, dark eyes grave now instead of wild. “My name is Davin. Davin Arkov. I’m a mercenary; I was hired by some folks here in Mirdral to take care of a bandit problem…”

Arkov. Southerner, maybe. Maura nodded. “Well,” she said wryly, surveying his injuries again, “looks like you did your job right enough.”

Davin nodded earnestly, as if he hadn’t noticed her teasing, still recounting the events of the past evening slowly. “I tracked them to the forest, two brutish fellows with a wolf.” He paused, belatedly noticing the wolf seated beside the girl seated beside him and he started back, eyes wide; one hand leapt involuntarily to the sword that was not hanging in its accustomed place at his side.

Asriel gave a short bark that sounded like a chuckle. Maura put a hand on the wolf’s back; she knew that the young man Davin was in no danger, but it couldn’t hurt to let him know the same. “This is Asriel,” she said with a laugh, digging her fingers in to scratch his thick hide until he growled low with pleasure. “And I won’t worry about him; if he really wanted to gore you, he’d have done it while you were out.”

Davin looked back and forth between the two of them and finally broke into a smile, his chuckle of approval echoing Asriel’s. “You’ll have to excuse me, Asriel.”

Smiling, Maura exhaled, relieved to see the young man relaxing a little. She’d always figured laughter was the best kind of medicine anyway. “At any rate,” she said, “if you could take on two brutes and a wolf, I don’t think you need to worry about Asriel and me.”

He looked back at Maura, unsettled, and regarded her carefully. “‘Taking on’ is stretching it. I barely got away.”

A pause. “Then those men are still out there?”

Davin nodded, running his fingers through his short, pale hair, radiating frustration and unhappiness. “I’m afraid this bandit problem isn’t going to be resolved any time soon.”

“Why’s that?”

He blinked, surprised that she’d had to ask. He raised his arm a hair, grimacing slightly. “It’ll take some time for me to heal. That wolf got my arm pretty good.” He thought of those men still out there, at large to do as they pleased, grimaced again. Should’ve done better, he thought in annoyance. Those men need to pay for what they’ve done, and quickly too. But now, they’ll be long gone by the time I’m healed fully.

Maura gazed at the unhappy young man for a moment and then sat up, businesslike, matter-of-fact, serious. “Where in the woods did you run into the bandits?”

Eyes narrowed, he asked, “Why do you ask?”

“You were hired ‘cause a job needed to be done,” she said, as if speaking to a four-year-old. “So it should get done. Where in the woods?”

“It’s my job. My responsibility. I’ll handle it.”

Sighing impatiently, Maura took him by the shoulder again. “Well, as you pointed out, you’re not exactly in the best position to handle it right now. Where were they?”

Davin pushed against her hand stoically for a moment before realizing, from the look in her eyes, that he wasn’t going to win this. He sighed. “If you head up the northern trail, then head east after passing the large boulder, you’ll eventually come to their camp. But for all I know, they could have moved from there already.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Well, at the very least, I can check it out. Is it just the three that you mentioned, or are there more of ‘em?”

Maura had stood abruptly while she spoke, arms raised back to tie her hair out of her face, and for the first time, Davin noticed the two swords hanging at her waist, and what looked like a third strapped to her back. It looked absurd; she was a mere girl, probably no older than he was, heading off to try and deal with those monsters. “Hey, wait a minute. You’re not thinking of going alone, are you?”

The wolf beside her growled, looking indignant. Maura turned and saw Davin starting from the bed, pushing back the covers. “Certainly not. Asriel will be with me. And,” she added, steering him back to the bed, “you stay where you are.”

Davin would not be swayed. “Wolf or not, you can’t head out there by yourself.”

“Fine. I’ll go find a friend or something to go with me.”

“You’re just saying that to get me to stay here,” he said dismissively, pushing past her to stand and look around, disoriented. “Where’s my sword?”

Maura burst out laughing and threw her hands up in defeat; the earnest young knight was standing there in bandages, underwear, and nothing else, and what was more, he seemed completely unaware of the fact. Striding over to where Cille and Oldman had set his clothes, she chucked a shirt at him. “Oh, fine. But when the healers ask why you’re not in bed, you’re taking the full blame. I wash my hands of it.”

Davin snatched the shirt from mid-air, looked at it, confused, and then looked down. “Ah.” He cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

She helped him into his armor, making a face at his sword, nicked and dull. Bryant had carefully taught her how to care for her blade, and she could imagine his indignation at seeing any respectable knight going out for a fight with a weapon in such poor condition. “How long have you had that?”

Looking even more exposed and embarrassed than he had without clothes on, he turned away. “Ah… for a while now… nearly ten years. It’s an heirloom.”

Maura grinned, touching the hilts of her swords. “So’re mine.”

He nodded and looked toward the door, eager to change the subject. “Shall we go?”

Looking both ways, Asriel straining his ears and eyes against the hallway’s recesses, the three figures stole out of the school. They were outside and several blocks away before they spoke again. “Heirloom’s always nice,” said Maura cheerfully, watching Davin’s lead and peering ahead into the shining night, “but that one looks like it’s seen better days. Why don’t you have it touched up, or at least get something else to supplement it?”

“I haven’t got the money for that kind of thing,” said Davin, his voice tight. “Besides, she serves her purpose well enough.”

“I’m sure she does.”

They walked on in silence for a moment before Davin spoke again. “Believe me, I would if I could…”

***

The path led them into the moonlit shade of the northern woods. “Stay alert,” murmured Davin, stepping ahead with sure footing and senses attentive. “They could be hiding in the shadows.”

Behind him, he heard something incomprehensible muttered and turned back to look at the girl with the three swords who followed him. For half a second, something blue seemed to be shimmering over her armor, but the next moment, he was sure it was a trick of the shadows, light, and hazy mist. “Did you say something?”

The girl and the wolf exchanged a look. “…No. C’mon, let’s go.”

Cool mist swirled around them as they made their way farther into the forest. Maura wrapped the cloak around her, shivering, but enjoying the perfect glow of the full moon on the miniscule droplets of water, hanging in the air like the cold and hanging off of the plants like jewels. Asriel trotted on ahead of her, extending her sight and hearing as far as he could manage.

They emerged into the clearing where the boulder stood, and Davin sat, panting. Asriel, with a mental nudge from Maura, trotted over to him to assume protective duty while the man rested. He spoke, breathless. “I can’t see anything in this blasted moonlit fog.”

Maura peered into the shadows. “Well, maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll clear up. Stay here; I just want to look around a bit. I won’t go far.”

She went to just out of sight and earshot before chanting softly. A warm breeze stirred around her and pushed out gently against the path ahead. It would do too much, but it would help. Besides, she could hear Asriel telling her that Davin was ready to head out again.

They didn’t get another twenty yards into the trees when they were stopped by a growl from a ridge above them. Asriel snarled low; Davin and Maura looked up to see a huge wolf, fur matted and wild, eyes feral, sneer dripping with scorn. Beside it, a crouched figure stood to reveal itself as bulky human figure, matted hair to match his wolf. He had an enormous metal club in one hand, resting across his shoulders. “Well, well, look wot we ‘ave ‘ere.” Maura’s hand went to her belt, drawing her father’s sword.

Another figure, almost identical to the first except hefting a metal ball on a chain, stepped up beside the first. “Looks like blondie there found hisself a girl and a doggie.”

Maura nodded courteously, sizing them up and ignoring their jeers. “Evening, gents.”

Asriel snarled.

The first bandit was squinting at her, appraising, Maura noticed with mild amusement, the shape of her body more than the swords that were strapped to it. “Well, well— ain’t you a pretty thing.” He looked to his companion. “Wot d’you think, Blackwell? Maybe we should ‘ave a bit o’ fun?”

“I think you’ve got the idea, Blockwell.”

Ignoring the two leering at her, Maura spoke quietly. “So, what exactly are these two wanted for? Being hideous?”

“They’re wanted for robbing and killing a group of Southern priestesses.” Davin was looking up at them with gritted his teeth, wearing an expression of disgust. “Among other vile acts.”

“Don’t let them catch you,” he added softly, almost pleadingly.

Oh, I'm not so very helpless, my friend. I'm not even mostly harmless. She inclined her head slightly, resisting the urge to smile. “Right, then.” She spoke up, addressing the bandits again, her voice brimming with cheerful mock-innocence. “A bit of fun, eh? What’d you two have in mind?”

“Well, first,” said Blockwell, “we get rid o’ blondie there.” He barked a command to the feral wolf which charged Davin.

Davin drew his sword, shabbily beaten-up heirloom that it was, but Asriel got there first, tackling the other wolf midair and taking him to the ground. The two wolves snaked around each other, bodies locked together in mortal combat.

Blackwell shook his head. “Well, well. Looks like we has to get our ‘ands dirty.”

Blockwell grunted assent, and the two leapt down from the ridge, charging.

Maura patiently waited until they were almost a sword’s length away before drawing Crescent as well and bringing both swords up to catch Blackwell’s chain. He freed it, swung at her, and she ducked, swords crossed above her head to catch the chain a second time.

Blockwell, meanwhile, had gone after Davin, who, knowing that his sword would never stand up to the enormous hunk of metal that was careening towards his head, dodged and rolled away, weaving quickly out of its path, constantly on the look-out for an opening.

Blackwell freed the chain from Maura again with a furious roar of frustration; his foot hooked on a root, and at a whispered command, an unseen hand shot out from Maura to push him further off balance. She shoved a boot into his back as he toppled and ran him through, Crescent pinning him to the forest floor.

He let out a howl of pain. “You bitch!”

Maura smiled slightly and spoke quietly, almost to herself. “Not my nickname, actually. But it’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken for her.”

Swinging at Davin, Blockwell looked over to see his fallen comrade, sword embedded in his back, and screamed, charging Maura. Davin was faster, though, and leapt onto Blockwell’s back, hanging from his neck. “Oh no you don’t!”

She raised Jaded Heart to swing at the charging brute but stopped short when she saw Davin hanging off of him, knowing full well that she wasn’t nearly subtle enough to hit the one without hitting the other. Blockwell, noticing the nuisance for the first time, plucked Davin off of his back and, with no more effort than shooing away a bug, flung him at Maura, who barely tumbled away, out of his path. Davin hit the ground rolling, stopped short by an enormous tree root. The smack his head made when it hit the ground coincided with a sharper, louder snap, metallic and very nearby. He heard Maura calling towards him, concerned, but all he saw was the hilt of his sword in his hands and the blade which ended less than a hand’s length up. The young knight stood, dizzily and turned to Blockwell, who was holding the last wound that the sword would ever give. “You bastard!”

Blockwell chuckled, panting. “Wossa matter, blondie? Broke yer ‘ickle knife?”

“Ah, hell…” Maura paused but only for a moment, and she reached to the sword on her back, Hyperion, the order blade of the Six Swords. Lagoon would probably kill her if he found out she was handing it over to an almost complete stranger, but she could deal with that later. “Oi, Davin! Catch!” She hurled it at him and charged Blockwell who, easily ready for her, swung the metal club at her in a wide arc. The wolf, who had finally succeeded in eluding Asriel, charged her from the other side.

Davin caught the broadsword deftly in time to see Maura duck low beneath the club’s blow just in time to be caught in the back by the enemy wolf. Maura bit back a curse as the creature’s jaws snapped into her shoulder, and she swung back the sword, desperately trying to pry it off.

“Come along, missy, ye’ll ‘ave a fine time tonight.” Blockwell leered approvingly as the wolf sank his fangs into her. “Don’t rough ‘er up too much, beastie. She’s tonight’s entertainment.”

“Like hell she is!” shouted Davin, standing straight and pointing the sword at the man with the club.

The sword erupted into a blinding glare; sunlight beat back every shadow in the clearing, pushed under every leaf, rock, nook, and cranny, and even though Maura was facing mostly away, throwing the wolf to the ground, she squinted at the sudden flare, throwing up an arm in front of her eyes. Davin’s face was lit up like gold as he stared down the sword at his opponent. “You will not harm her, nor will you ever harm any woman again!”

The young man, glowing like an angel, charged, barely visible through the haze around him. Blockwell managed to get out a “Wot in hellfi—” before Davin impaled him; Hyperion cut in cleanly, lighting up the dead man’s body from the inside, and when he withdrew the blade, the bandit’s blood was burning away from its surface even as he looked.

Maura, after picking her jaw up off the ground, turned back to the snarling wolf that was charging at her once more and ran her sword through its open mouth.

And then she stared at Davin Arkov, who stood there with the fading light of Hyperion in hand, panting, and staring in awe and confusion. He fell to his knees. “…What… in Akaran’s name…”

Breathing hard as well, Maura just stood there, staring for a moment longer. “Well,” she said finally. “Funny how that worked out.”

He was staring at her now, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to evade the questions for long. “What… where did…?” He shook his head, bewildered. “What is this sword? It felt like… I was holding the sun in my hand.” He stared back at her, matching her astonished gaze with his own.

Maura nodded, wincing slightly, and a hand went to the bloody mess on her shoulder. “This is not the place to discuss it,” she said quickly. “Let’s get back into town; we can talk there.”

Davin nodded warily.

Hurrying over to Blackwell, she pulled Crescent out of his still-twitching body and ran him through again. He fell still for good this time, and, wiping the sword on the grass, she sheathed it.

Asriel was following behind Davin, sniffing at the hand holding Hyperion, as the young man went to the two bodies and pulled matching amulets from around their necks. Maura watched curiously. “What’re those?”

He held them up: gold medallions engraved with a symbol of the Solar Church. “Proof, for payment. They belonged to the priestesses.” He pocketed them and paused, looking again at the broadsword in his hand again before holding it out to her. “Your sword…”

Maura shook her head and spoke slowly. “You hold onto it for now. Don’t know if we’re going to run into trouble on our way home.”

She watched him nod and start off towards town and followed, her footsteps light with a growing sense of giddiness.

[Eurydice]

They didn’t make it past the farthest outskirts of town before Cloche found them. She stopped short, lips pursed and fists on hips, looking highly annoyed, and the queen’s annoyance was generally just as terrible as the queen’s wrath. “Where have you been?! I came back and you two were gone!” She looked at Maura, shaking her head. “Really, Maura—you have to stop running off with strange men!”

Davin blinked owlishly. “Strange…?”

“Yes, well…” Maura gave up and just laughed, breathless and giddy. “Pressing business came up, had to take care of something. Is Lagoon at home?”

Cloche quirked an eyebrow, somewhat unable to follow the train of thought. “Yes. He was quite tired; he and Amiel were sparring.” She pursed her lips again and lowered her voice, her tone almost disdainful. “All that time alone with her, and all he and think of is training!” She rolled her eyes.

Maura nodded impatiently and stepped forward, unable to hold back any longer, and hissed softly, excitedly. “Hyperion lit up like a beacon for him!”

Sea-green and sky-blue eyes went wide in shock and hope. “Truly?”

Maura nodded again, looking just as excited, and looked back at the young man in question. Davin shuffled nervously, trying not to listen, and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The last thing they needed to do was to scare him off before he’d even heard what they had to say. Cloche was looking at him as well, giving him an appraising once-over. He looked a bit like a good little schoolboy or an obedient servant, waiting patiently to be told next what to do. He didn’t seem frightened or worried, though, just a little unsettled, and confident that answers would come, sooner or later. “Well, he certainly looks the part,” she murmured, eying the tattered peasant shirt under his well-worn armor. “Though he’ll need some less shabby clothes.”

“Excuse me. Would you mind explaining what’s going on?”

Mentally kicking herself, Maura looked back apologetically. “Davin, this is Cloche Sakis… she and I found you outside the healers’ school.”

Cloche, for her part, was already gesturing for them to follow her as she headed back along the path to their house. “Charmed; Davin, is it?”

“Yes, milady,” he said, bobbing his head in a respectful nod.

“As for what’s going on,” said Maura, walking alongside him, “have you ever heard of the Six Swords?”

“Er, no. I have not.”

Maura smiled and exchanged a glance with Cloche. “We may have a… business proposal for you.”

Davin gazed at her, looking mildly suspicious. “A business proposal.”

Speaking eloquently about anything was not really Maura’s specialty, and speaking about the order in particular was usually a duty that went to one or both of the twins, so she thought for a moment, choosing her words carefully before voicing them. “You’ve… very clearly demonstrated your willingness to protect those in need of aid. And you’ve demonstrated some skill in combat. We’d like to ask you to put both of those characteristics to work.”

They had arrived at the Sakis household by now, a decently large house with a smithy attached to the side. Cloche was waving them in eagerly. “We shall discuss more inside.”

She led them to the study where Lagoon was sitting, looking mildly exhausted and holding a bandage on his lower arm. Davin shifted uncertainly as Cloche ran to her brother and whispered in his ear, and he looked even more uncertain when he saw the brother’s eyes widen just as Cloche’s had. The boy then stood, came over, and extended his hand genially. “Hello! My name is Lagoon Sakis. Nice to meet you.”

“Davin Arkov.” He shook the outstretched hand firmly but politely. “What is this about…?”

Exasperated, Maura gave him a sharp jab from behind and laughed. “Don’t look so scared! You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Cloche got right down to business. “Davin, Maura told me that the sword in your hand lit up like the sun when you held it.”

“Is that true?” Lagoon piped up excitedly.

Davin nodded warily. “That’s right. I wasn’t trying to do it or anything, though; just happened.” A thought occurred to him. “Is it your sword?” By the light, I hope I didn’t damage it permanently when that happened, he thought. Maybe that’s why they keep looking at me like that.

“In a manner of speaking.” Cloche smiled prettily.

Lagoon took a seat, cleared his throat, and, for the umpteenth time since setting out from Trilarese two years ago, he began to tell the story of the Six Swords.

***

“The Six Swords were almost wiped out years ago,” said Lagoon, nearing the end of the story. “The last two settled here in Mirdral: they were our great-grandparents, Brond and Miscelle Woodrun—”

“—the Master of Earth and the Mistress of Water,” put in Cloche; as per usual, the two of them, so familiar with the story and with each other, had seamlessly gone back and forth in telling the story. “They charged the family with reviving the order, and they left us extensive notes and instructions on how to do it.”

“Maura isn’t family,” she added, seeing Davin looking them over again. “Well… she is, in a way.”

“Maura is our Mistress of the Moon,” said Lagoon proudly.

Davin’s head snapped over to look at Maura and he stared. “You’re a… um… a…” A moonwitch? A chaos spawn? A darkling? A breaker’s toy? He coughed back the number of epithets that had immediately sprung to mind. “Mhm. Well.” He nodded to Lagoon to go on and belatedly realized that yes, those were blades of the north that she’d been wielding. Silly of him not to notice it.

Lagoon was speaking again. “We want you to be our Swordsman of the Sun. Hyperion is a powerful sword, and by the sound of it, it responded to you pretty powerfully.”

They’d been building up to this point through all the recounting of the Six Swords and their reforging, but Davin still couldn’t quite believe they would just make an offer like this. “How can you be sure?” he asked, eyes narrowed. “I mean, the sword did respond to me, as you say, but…” He looked back and forth between them—practically children all, his own age if not younger, their faces trusting and confident. “…you hardly know me.”

“These are enchanted blades, Davin,” said Cloche, moving over to perch next to him. “They are blades of justice; they don’t respond to just anyone. Only a pure heart can make Hyperion shine.” She favored him with a dazzling smile. Davin, discomforted at her proximity, shied away slightly, only to find himself closer to the moonwitch—swordswoman, he forcibly corrected himself. Maura.

Maura chuckled again. “Calm down. We can’t make you join, obviously. But we’d be proud and pleased if you did.”

The young man looked down slightly; he’d taken out Hyperion, set in his lap, and was turning it over slowly, remembering the way that it had lit up the clearing, and the fear that had come into that brute’s eyes when it did. It was a tempting offer. It had been a long time since Davin had seen any sort of cause to which he could really devote himself, and now, the chance for one was so close that his heart ached. “Could I think about it for a bit?” he asked softly, watching the dull lamplight magnify and glint off the blade’s perfect surface.

Lagoon nodded with an encouraging smile. “We don’t want to rush you into anything, Davin. Just think about it.” He stood and took the sword as Davin extended it to him. “You can stay here for tonight; there’s a room upstairs.”

Cloche stood as well. “I’ll go to the school; they’ll be worried for him.”

The adrenaline rush and giddiness wearing down, a jab of pain reminded Maura of the wolf bites in her shoulder, and she joined Cloche. “I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks for helping with the bandits,” Davin called softly to Maura as she started from the room.

“Least I could do. Anyway, you might help us out too—” she gestured to Hyperion. “—so it’s only fair.” She gave a quick wave farewell and followed Cloche out into the cool night air. As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned to Cloche excitedly. “So? What d’you think?”

“He’s cute!” the younger girl said happily.

Maura laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Aside from that! D’you think he’ll join up?”

“Oh, I hope so.”

The walks of the town were mostly deserted, and the two girls traveled down them at an easy pace; the healers’ school wasn’t far, and the night was starlit and pleasant. “Honestly,” said Maura, “you’re as bad as your brother sometimes.”

“My brother,” Cloche said primly, “is oblivious of his feelings. I know exactly where I stand.” She smiled her charming smile again and then dropped the pretty-little-girl-in-love routine. “But seriously, Maura, you say the sword lit up like a beacon?”

She nodded vigorously. “Blinding. I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me.” She thought about the earnest young man, how he’d conducted himself, and he truly did seem like he fit the part. She hoped he’d stay. “And he really does care about what he does,” she added. “He told me he was mercenary, but I can’t imagine he’s ever taken a job he didn’t agree to morally first.”

Cloche clapped delightedly like a child with a new present. “How wonderful!”

Maura nodded, winced, and pushed the cloak back from her right arm; Cloche noticed for the first time the bloody mess on her shoulder. “Oh dear,” she said, surveying the damage. Then, with a smile, she raised her finger, again with flames dancing from the tip. “Would you like my special brand of healing?” she asked teasingly.

Laughing, Maura dodged away from the flame playfully. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Didn’t hit anything important.” She winced as she poked at the wound again. “Hurts like hell, but didn’t hit anything important. Davin was kinda sweet about the whole situation,” she added, chuckling. “He was so worried about the bandits ‘dishonoring’ me. Which is funny, considering that before he joins up, the landslide majority of the Six Swords are women.”

Cloche nodded. “Mmm. I was hoping we’d outnumber my brother, but now that I see the alternative…” She paused and smiled dreamily, a hoard of attractive male swordsmen parading before her mind’s eye. “…mmm, it’s not so bad.”

“And you said I was bad about going off with strange men.”

“I don’t go off with them!” exclaimed Cloche. “I just like them!”

They’d arrived at the front steps of the school, where this whole business had begun when they found the young man with the pale hair lying wounded across the stoop. “Well, you’d better prepare for an earful. The headmistress can be rather fierce.”

“I was counting on it…” Maura sighed as they headed in.

***

Davin ascended the stairs behind a very tired Lagoon, taking in the house with polite curiosity. “So, where are you from?” he asked, showing the young swordsman upstairs.

“Just… down south.”

Lagoon wasn’t sure whether he was just imagining the slightly evasive pitch in his voice, so he ploughed on ahead with his usual cheerful good nature. “Oh, I’ve been down south. Ever been to Boren?”

He looked back at Davin as they reached the top of the stairs. He hadn’t been imagining it; the man looked profoundly uncomfortable, although the discomfort vanished just as quickly as Lagoon took it in, and he kept his voice carefully measured and neutral as he replied. “Yes. It’s been some time, though.”

“Hmm.” Lagoon let it go; he’d talk if and when he wanted to. “Alright.”

They continued, Lagoon leading with sleepy gait, Davin following and taking in the old house. “What happened to your arm?” he asked, politely inquisitive, for Lagoon had been fiddling with the bandage on his forearm.

“Hm? Oh, this. Just a scratch. I was sparring with Lady Amiel; she’s our Mistress of Wind.” He blushed slightly, looking somewhat evasive himself. “Our match got pretty heated, she landed a cut…”

Davin ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in wonder. “How did you manage to gather such talent so quickly?”

“How? Um, well…” Well, it all started when my sister got kidnapped by this crazy fire cult, and then I was spirited away to this place called Trilarese in the Misty Isles—wacky fun, that was. “…I’m not exactly sure,” he finished lamely. Better to ease Davin into things after he’d agreed to join up; no point in scaring him off further with detailed stories of the whirlwind excitement that had taken up the last two years. “Cloche and I met Maura and Lady Amiel in our travels. We’ve sort of been caught up in a lot of things…” Sinking islands, fop-assassins, political schemes, cults, dying heralds, herald-murderers. “…Saving the world, things like that.” He smiled wearily.

“Oh,” said Davin, raising an eyebrow but obviously not about to pry into the matter. “That sounds, um. Nice.”

Lagoon laughed. “Oh, I’m not trying to brag or anything. We just sort of got caught up in it.” He opened the door to the guest bedroom and gestured Davin in. “So, how’d you learn to use a sword?”

There was a heavy silence; Davin looked around the room, his face still neutral, expressionless. “Solar Church. I served in their forces a while ago.” He fell silent again, still composed, and sat on the bed.

Lagoon took a chair. “I didn’t know the church had forces, except for the Nameless Order.”

“Well, they do,” Davin replied, obedient like a schoolboy giving a memorized response. “It’s not a very public wing of the church. And I left them a couple years ago.”

Rubbing his temple, Lagoon stifled a yawn. “Why’d you leave?” he asked.“If you don’t mind my asking.”

Another shrug. “Over a difference of opinion.”

“I see.” Lagoon watched Davin’s stoic, politely expressionless front, and wondered exactly what it was that was behind it. He hoped that he’d get a chance to find out. “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. We all have things we don’t like to talk about.” He smiled sadly. The people living under this roof certainly know that as well as anyone else, if not better. “Anyway, I need to sleep.” He stood, yawning again. “Think about joining us, Davin. We could really use your help.”

Davin nodded and stood to shake Lagoon’s outstretched hand. “I will think on it. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Davin closed the door behind Lagoon, removed his armor, and lay back on the bed. He did not go to sleep for some time.