Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 43 - Mirror, Mirror

The shield-sized chunks of ice vanished into the dark for a moment, but then, they were vomited back up by whatever was contained in that mirror. The cloth was left behind, but the ice erupted from that void like it had been launched by a catapult. The chunks soared not so far from the heads of Ivarr and the two remaining members of his group before slamming into the ceiling above their heads.

-4 Life Force

-3 Life Force

Shards of rock and stone scattered explosively after that, and though the blade didn’t feel any of the shrapnel strike its wielder, it knew that it had because of the surge of life energy needed to patch the minor wounds they had caused.

-6 Life Force

-2 Life Force

That wasn’t so strange. What was strange was the fact that no one moved. Not its wielder nor the mage moved a muscle. The priest dropped wordlessly to the ground in that moment, but the blade wasn’t sure if that was because of whatever effect was gripping its wielder or because he’d been struck by debris.

It was hard to care about that when it was more concerned about its own wielder. Ivarr seemed fine physically, but his emotions were in turmoil. As the seconds ticked by, his rising fear and anguish seemed more and more disconnected from what was happening.

Ivarr, the blade whispered silently. What’s wrong? You’re uninjured. You—

That’s the problem! The man’s mind screamed. I’m okay, but everyone else is dead! The Ebon Blade wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Even the muddled glimpses it got of the Kalraka in flaming ruins around the boy seemed disconnected and two-dimensional. The blade puzzled over that for only a moment before it noted its wielder's eyes. That was when it finally understood.

He was seeing something that the blade wasn’t. That was almost certainly the case for the mage as well. The blade turned its eyes to the mirror again, but still, there was only a rippling blackness there. The mage collapsed as it tried to understand what was happening to her, and it felt like Ivarr wanted to as well, but the blade refused to let it. Instead, it gripped its wielder’s soul, unsheathed itself, and forced its wielder’s unwilling body to walk forward.

No, please! Its wielder’s thoughts shouted silently. Don’t make me go back in that house! Not into the fire!

It was a challenge. More than anything, it felt like the time the goblin had fought it with every fiber of its being. Ivarr’s muscles were tense and spasming, and with every step it forced its wielder to take toward the mirror, it could feel muscles and ligaments tearing and rehealing almost instantly as the young man’s body tried with all its might not to move.

If Ivarr’s mind had been fighting the blade even a little, this much would have been impossible. He couldn’t fight, though. He barely seemed to be grasping the reality of the situation. All he could do was scream into the void, as the Ebon Blade ignored this and did what it could to finish this.

As it closed the last few steps to strike at the thing’s fragile-looking silver frame, its wielder started to scream, but the blade ignored it. Instead, it focused on the glass. There were shapes in the darkness, and now that it was closer, it could see them. They were women; at least, it was pretty sure they were the shadows of them.

The elf mentioned something about an order of seeresses, it recalled, uncertain if that was what he was looking at.

When the blade was within striking distance, it heard a faint whispering that was all but lost beneath Ivarr’s hysteric shrieks. The blade forced his mouth to shut and gripped his throat tightly enough that it almost cut off his breathing as it strained to hear what the thing was saying.

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“...can’t be moving… not in our power… something else… its… there it is… a little lost soul… hiding in the blade…” came the chorus of whispers.

As the blade realized they were talking about it, it raised the sword. Then, before it could bring the weapon down and shatter the thing, the world around it vanished and was replaced by a new one.

Suddenly, it was back in the temple where it had been locked away for so long. The goblins were gone, though, and so were their years of abuse. In their place were fine stone hallways loaded with mosaics and statues, lit by a few widely-spaced oil lamps.

Well, that was mostly the case anyway. The scene was beautiful and ominous, but something about the way the pieces didn’t fit together quite right took away any fear that it might have held for the Ebon Blade. Some of the walls had cracks, and others met at the wrong angle like they were a warped reflection.

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At least, that was all it could see beyond the bars. It was trapped in the same prison it had been for so long, but even as the illusion tried to convince it that it was sheathed in that same unyielding block of granite where it had slept away the centuries, it would not be fooled. It could still feel its wielder’s hand on its grip, and with a thought, it yanked itself free from the stony prison and floated there in midair.

It acted as if it was being held, but there was no wielder. Still, somehow, Ivarr lent the Ebon blade his strength even if they were separated, and it floated there, held up by the heat-shimmered outline of a man.

“Interesting…” the female voices around him murmured. “Even when confronted with its worst fears, it still does not relent.”

The blade lashed out blindly in all directions. It was uncertain where the mirror was, but it knew that to strike it down would be to end this farce. Even after it did that, though, nothing happened. Even if I can feel Ivarr’s hand doesn’t mean I am really moving, it told itself. I might be frozen now, just as the other two were.

“I will not surrender!” the blade shouted, surprised that it spoke aloud for the first time in its existence. “Not to this place or to you!”

As it did that, it floated toward the bars and swung against them with a vicious cross-stroke. It expected a bone-rattling impact of iron against whatever metal it was made from, but instead, it cleaved right through, reducing the sturdy bars to slivers of glass.

Well, that makes it easy, the blade thought to itself as it stepped through and started toward the stairs that led to the surface. It wasn’t sure it mattered which direction it went in a waking dream like this, but it wasn’t going to find a way out just standing there.

“We are all bound by our fears,” a different woman whispered to it. “Even if your body is harder than steel, your soul is as weak as anyone else’s…”

“We came to free you!” the blade shouted to no one in particular as it climbed toward the surface.

“And a century ago, we might have welcomed such an effort, but we’ve long since devoured all of the sights we were shown by Al’Hazzarin,” several women whispered in a way that made it almost sound like a chorus. “Now that we have become used to the darkness, we wish to taste yours as well. Go on. Show us what delights await us…”

The blade tried to make sense of their rambling, but it was quite apparent to it that they’d been driven mad by the years and the isolation. The same thing would certainly have happened to me if I hadn’t slept away the centuries it reflected as it continued to climb.

“Show us your pain!” a chorus of disembodied voices demanded with ever-increasing volume and urgency as it moved toward the top.

“Show us something new!” others pleaded.

The blade didn’t want to show them anything. It didn’t like the idea of these witches even glimpsing its soul, but for now, there was little it could do. When it reached the top of the dark stairway, though, the weapon didn’t find the temple to the death goddess it expected.

Instead, it found the forge that it remembered. Here, it could hear the same screams, but they came from the dark, and it couldn’t see who was making them. As it tried to remember what it knew about this scene, it realized that the main difference was that there was no one there.

They’re just going to taunt me with events I can’t even remember properly? The blade wondered to itself. How’s that supposed to scare me?

It was, though. It could see itself resting in the abandoned forge on a bed of hot coals, and it moved immediately to shatter itself. There’s a small chance this could backfire, it realized. Killing yourself in your dream probably wasn’t a good idea, but it wasn’t going to let that hold it back.

The blade shattered as easily as the bars had, and it felt no pain as it did so, which was the good news. The bad news was that the ashes and embers of the sundered forge rose up in a cloud around it, and the shades of monsters and men coalesced out of them.

The Ebon Blade couldn’t be sure, but as a mixture of orcs and hulking orcs, as well as armed and unarmed men and women, rushed toward it, it was fairly sure these were supposed to be the people it had killed. This sort of morality play doubtlessly would have made Ivarr stop in his tracks. Its wielder had many strengths, but callousness wasn’t one of them.

“You think this can stop me?” It roared in a challenge as it started to hack through its smoky foes. It didn’t care at all if the creatures were goblins or children. It was happy to end them. Its only regret was that it was getting no Life Force from its efforts.

-3 Life Force

-2 Life Force

-1 Life Force

The blade had no such concerns, though, and started to strike down the burning-eyed shades down with slash after efficient slash. The things closed in on all sides of its disembodied form with more force than the skeleton harem ever had. Worse, even though it was immune to life-drain effects, it could feel itself losing power each time it snuffed one of these smokey monsters out.

-5 Life Force

-3 Life Force

-2 Life Force

-2 Life Force

Are they using my own magic against me? It wondered. Or am I actually snuffing out my own captured souls? The blade didn’t know, but it didn’t let either option slow it down. It still struck them down two and three at a time without hesitation.

-3 Life Force

-2 Life Force

“Murderer!” they whispered in the voice of the old women as they died. “Monster! Traitor!”

It ignored all of them, and once it had cut down enough of the fiery shades that it could see a door beyond them, it started to move toward it, killing the ghosts as it went.