Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 6 - Aftermath

Despite spending so much Life Force so recently, the blade still had 65/500 energy. So, it was not in danger of fading to black any time soon.

As soon as it noticed its energy levels, it noticed one other change it hadn’t seen before. On its menu of upgrades there was a new option that hadn’t been there before, labeled Wielder Status.

Is this from increasing my connection with him? The blade wondered. It knew that Ren was weak. It didn’t need numbers to tell him exactly how weak he was, yet here they were.

Name: Ren Baerson

Occupation: Shepherd

Toughness: 4 +2

Strength: 3 +3

Agility: 5 +2

Speed: 6 +1

Status: Normal

Intelligence: Average

Willpower: Low -1

Bloodlust: Low

Morality: Selfish

Martial Skill: Low +10

Armor Proficiency: None

Dodging: Low +5

Athletics: Medium

Goal: To win Vera’s heart, and become a great warrior.

The ability to size up a potential wielder at a glance seemed positive, but the ability was useless, because it couldn’t use it on any of the surrounding men to judge them. It tried several times to use it on the other survivors of the ambush, but nothing happened.

How useless, the blade complained. I really can only see how weak my wielder is.

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It got the sense that the number 5 was average, though it wasn’t quite sure where that impulse came from. If that was true, though, then its wielder was incredibly weak without its aid. Ren would be half as strong without the blade on his hip or in his hand.

The blade studied the interface for a moment, but when it found no further value in it after a few seconds it closed it impatiently. After that it spent the next few minutes watching as its wielder split his time between bandaging the wounded men of the caravan with the shredded clothing of the dead as best he could and robbing the bandits he’d killed whenever he spotted a coin purse or a bit of jewelry.

Because of the dark things it was whispering about Marden and the way that Vara felt about him, he didn’t go check on his friend, even after the caravan master started to bandage the other lad. It also studied the man’s thoughts as much as it could.

Ren’s thoughts were mostly a blob of concern about how he’d almost died, or concern about Marden whenever he glanced at the boy, but occasionally, other, more pertinent bits would float to the surface like flotsam.

-1 Life Force

I don’t get it. Why would the energy just fail when I need it most? He asked himself. The Blade wouldn’t have answered him even if it could have. Sometimes, I feel like the sword is fighting against me. Like I’m not strong enough to wield it.

These thoughts were almost enough to make it gloat, but it resisted. Like a good sword stroke, there would be a perfect moment, and it would strike then. For now, it watched and waited.

The merchant thanked both of the boys profusely for saving his goods, but the words were empty. Everyone looked at Ren with suspicion now, even Marden. How could they do anything else with a glowing sword on his hip?

Marden even talked to Ren about the fight afterwards. “The bandits mentioned you had some kind of healing magic?” he asked, gesturing to his wounded arm. “Any truth to that?”

Tell him nothing or he will take your weapon and your woman. The Ebon Blade whispered

“Nah,” Ren answered, lying poorly. “I just… well, this blade makes me move so fast I’m too hard to hit. That’s all.”

“Huh, lucky you,” Mardem answered skeptically. “So much for making money off this run then. I’m going to be lucky to break even after the healer treats this.”

“We’ll make it work somehow,” Ren answered, not bothering to mention all the coin purses he’d pinched.

Of course, the sword could read his mind now. It could hear him as he thought. Well, when I’m the one with the money to save Elliah and you aren’t, then she’ll finally decide between the two of us.

The thought was hopelessly naive, and it would have been enough to make the weapon laugh if it was capable of such a thing. The sword knew that even if its wielder didn’t, and it quickly tuned out the rest of the conversation.

It understood the deal now. It wasn’t exactly sure where they were going, but that didn’t matter, because in the not so distant future, its wielder and the boy’s friend would turn around and go right back to the crossroads where they’d left the pretty girl with her dying brother. With any luck he’d be dead by the time they all got back.

Once the conversation was done, Ren focused on picking his way through the dead bodies to try to find enough armor pieces that might fit him and give him a complete set to wear. The sword would have congratulated him on the practical decision if it hadn’t been able to listen in on the boy’s inner monologue, which was mostly concerned with how he could look tougher.

He wasn’t looking for the pieces that might offer him the most protection or the ones that might best suit his fighting style. Instead, he was concerned about which ones looked the coolest together.

Those choices involved a helm that dramatically lowered his visibility and a breastplate that was almost certainly too heavy for him. They might make him look a little more like a warrior, but both pieces very slightly increased the odds that a warrior with enough skill to fight past the ebon blade he carried would bring the boy down.

-1 Life Force

Despite those poor decisions, the road continued on, and for the next day, the blade stayed awake and alert long enough to grow bored with both the bleak scenery and the insipid thoughts of its wielder. The boy really only thought about his crush, and the Ebon Blade feared it would be enough to drive it insane in time.

I wonder if Vara misses me? was his most common thought, followed by his next most common thought, I wonder if she really likes Marden.

That thought, at least, was enough for the blade to be sure that it was having an effect on the boy. More rarely, he thought about other people when he worried about Elliah. He occasionally wondered about how the boy was doing and hoped he wasn’t too late to get back and hire a healer.

Between the money he’d taken off the bandits and the cash he expected to be paid at the end of this, he very nearly had a gold coin, after all. If they pooled all their money, they might yet be able to afford a true priest.

That thought would have been a noble one, if he wouldn’t have followed it up with something awful. Because then Vara… If I save Elliah then she…

No matter how badly it wanted to try to put this simpering, love-struck man in his place, though, the sword did nothing but feed him more poisonous ideas about his friend. It was all it could do. Wading through its current wielder's emotional incontinence was just one more stepping stone on the path to power and control, and a limited one at that.

It definitely wouldn’t be craving more insight into its wielder, though. Instead, it stayed quiet and counted down the time to when the darkness would take it whenever one of the man’s fellows wasn’t talking about something more interesting, like just how far south they’d come or just how close they were getting to Kalraka.

This was a city they talked about often and the small caravan’s first destination before points further south. To listen to the men that had made this route before talk, it was a wealthy town with stone walls, brick buildings, wide streets, and a small river port. It connected the muddy trails of empty Kaladian plains with the rich cities of the south, and beyond them, the ocean.

Neither of the boys had ever come half so far, and they were both impressed by such tales even if the blade thought little of them. Ren’s thoughts made it clear that he’d give anything to keep going south when this was done, which the blade would have been happy to do, and it even encouraged when it could.

It was a lie, though. In reality the boy would do anything but give up on Vara. She was what would send him scurrying north once more after they’d reached their destination.

“You can tell we’re getting close when you start to see trees like them over there,” one of the teamsters said, pointing to a smudge of dark green on the horizon.

“But we’ve passed lots of trees between here and Tollin’s Cross,” Ren said, making the older man laugh. “What, what’s so funny?”

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“Cottonwoods are like weeds,” the man chuckled. "They’ll always be poppin’ up here an there and everywhere, but those little clusters weren’t real woods, now was they? They were just places for travelers like us to get firewood on our way across the flatlands and nothin’ more. Trees like that, though? Old growth? That’s too far away from the mountains for the dragons to bother with, and tells you all you need to know.”

“You’re saying that they built that Kalraka there because it’s too far away for dragons to reach?” Ren asked skeptically. “I’m not sure—”

The boy’s words were skeptical, but his mind was less so. Apparently his parents had told him a thing of two about dragons. One hadn’t been sighted at their village in an age, but other villages had been burned to nothing in living memory. Dragon attacks were rare, and more likely to happen to large flocks than small hamlets, but they did happen.

“Listen, kid, if a dragon wants you dead bad enough, there’s nothing and no one that will stop it from flying across the whole damn world and ripping you into bloody shreds. I promise you that,” as he spoke he took a hand from the reins to wag a finger in the younger man’s face. “But these things - they’re territorial. They fly as far as they can from their lairs… they devour everything worth the trouble, and they go home again to guard their hoards. I’m just saying Kalraka is too far away to bother with - that’s why it's so prosperous.”

“Well, if you’re so smart, then explain to me why my village has never burned, and Tollin’s Cross still stands?” Marden asked, trying to sound smart and show his friend up.

“Kid, if I had a gold coin for every time Tollin’s was burned to the ground, I’d have enough to quit this gig, that’s for sure. The Dragons wait for it to build up nice and big like it is now, with plenty of herders coming to market and a warehouse or two to gobble up, and then one night, one of them will show up on wings of fire and devour everyone they can.” the man laughed again. “As to your village - well, it probably ain’t big enough to be worth the trouble, now is it.”

It’s not enough to be worth anything at all, Ren quipped as he silently agreed with the man.

-1 Life Force

“What do you mean built up?” Marden asked again, trying as hard as he could to put this know-it-all in his place. “It’s tiny. It’s barely—”

“Whatever you say, kid,” the man said with a dry chuckle. “It’s about as big as that burg ever gets. You mark my words in the next year or two; it's going to have a real bad day, and then after that, it’s going to start all over again.”

If this asshole calls us kids one more time… Ren’s thoughts came through the connection very clearly in that moment.

The blade responded by channeling as much rage and anger back into its wielder as it could. It could feel its wielder pulse rising and its heart pound, but still, the boy would not draw the sword, and eventually, it relented, and the moment passed. That old man on the wagon had no idea how close he’d come to losing his life.

It was probably the sword’s fault, though, at least this time. Its heart wasn’t in it. Something about what the man had said had distracted it. The very mention of dragons had sparked something deep in the dim recesses of its mind, and the longer he’d gone on about them, the more nagging those feelings had become.

Talk of burning and flying had given it vivid images of a creature that it had never seen. Until that conversation, it had not even suspected the existence of giant fire-breathing reptiles. Now, while it was clear that it had some kind of connection to them, the ball of anger and sadness that was snarled in its mind was far too complex to unravel.

Still, just because it couldn’t get answers didn’t stop it from poking at those stray thoughts until the city they were going to later that afternoon. That was when Ren announced he was turning around and heading back the other way and demanded payment from the merchant in charge for both him and Marden.

“We’ve got a sick friend waiting on the medicine this money will buy,” its wielder explained. “Every hour counts.”

For a moment, it looked like the well-dressed man was about to try to cheat Ren. “We haven’t even reached the city,” he complained, going on and on for such a long time that the sword could almost taste his blood.

Still, realizing however unintimidating the boy might be, he had plenty of blood on his hands, the man eventually relented. After a few minutes of bitching, he pried open his purse and handed Ren a handful of silver for the two of them to split.

The boy wasn’t smart enough to count it, even though he should have. It was fairly sure the boy had been short-changed. Instead, he gave half to Marden, and then the two of them turned around and took off. From there, they jogged for as long as his lungs would let them before they slowed to a brisk walk.

It was no secret why either, at least not to something that could listen in to his strongest thoughts. I’m going to make it, he promised himself. I’m going to make it and save Elliah. Then Vara will love me and…

It went on from there, but the blade tuned him out. It was simple as far as plans went, but the blade doubted it would go the way its wielder hoped. It wasn’t sure why, but it knew that wasn’t the way that women worked, and frankly, if it didn’t involve blood and battle or, more strangely, dragons, it simply wasn’t interested.

-1 Life Force

The sword spent the rest of the day, counting down the minutes until it would run out of Life Energy again and return to its slumber. So, it didn’t even notice that Marden got up, and was trying to get the sword free from its scabbard without Ren noticing until the boy’s hand was on the hilt.

Interestingly, even though someone else held the hilt, the sword was still certain that Ren was still its wielder, even if he was asleep. It could feel the other boys soul as well, for an instant, but its remaining energy didn’t flow into him. Still, the merest brush by someone new made for a strange sensation, and its mind automatically flicked to the wielder interface to see if it could grant insight into the other boy.

It worked, but only for a moment. It slammed shut almost as soon as it opened as its link to Ren overpowered whatever tenuous grip Marden had on it.

Name: Marden Kellner

Occupation: Mason’s Apprentice

Toughness: 4

Strength: 4

Agility: 5

Speed: 5

Status: Normal

Intelligence: Average

Willpower: Average

Bloodlust: Low

Morality: Good

Martial Skill: Low

Armor Proficiency: None

Dodging: Low

Athletics: Medium

Goal: To save Elliah, marry Vera, and live happily ever after

Did that mean that the current wielder had to be killed before anyone else could claim it, or did wearing the sword trump holding it? Could it choose who it wanted to be its wielder?

The Ebon Blade wasn’t sure, but it didn’t need to be, because it wasn’t about to let this perfect opportunity go to waste. It would choose death, as it always did before.

He’s betrayed you! It screamed in the mind of its wielder. He’s betrayed you and he’s stealing your sword!

It had meant that word as a ruse to draw its wielder’s attention, but something about the word resonated inside it. Betrayal. It knew that word. It had lived that word. Somehow, some way it had been betrayed in the past, and even if it didn’t understand how, anger flared inside it at that revelation.

The blade had no idea how deep its connection was with Ren. It knew that its hold over the boy was tenuous, and it had no idea if it could even wake him up, but when it did, it was relieved.

“What are you doing?” Ren demanded as his eyes snapped open and saw that his best friend and only rival for the heart of the woman he loved had managed to pull his most treasured possession halfway out of his sheath while he slept.

“My arm hurts, Ren. It hurts bad, and I know you’ve got—” Marden started to answer. He didn’t let go of the hilt, though, and the talking stopped when Ren rolled over to stop him from pulling it free.

“This is my blade!” Ren roared, struggling with the boy in earnest now.

Within a few seconds, blows were exchanged as the two of them escalated from a misunderstanding to what was quickly becoming a life or death conflict. Marden didn’t have a chance, either, not really. As long as Ren was the wielder, its magic flowed through him, and he was stronger or faster than he had any right to be, while Marden was still wounded.

“Please!” Marden called out as his friend finally flung him aside. “You can keep the blade all to yourself, even if it is cursed! I just don’t want to lose my arm! Don’t hold out on me!”

As his friend babbled, Ren rose to his feet, drew his sword and held his blade to the other boy’s neck. The blade didn’t say anything in that moment. It just held its breath in anticipation as it wondered if its wielder would finally do what needed to be done.

“You’re so different, now,” Ren said finally. “Ever since we rescued Vara!”

“Me?!” Marden shot back, very careful not to move with death looming over him. “What about you? You used to be a good guy Ren. I’m telling you. This blade is taking its toll on you.”

“It’s Vara isn’t it,” Ren answered, ignoring what his friend said. “You’re in love with her aren’t you.”

This was it. This was the moment. This was the question it had been waiting so long for.

“No!” Marden lied. “But none of that matters right now. We just need to help Elliah get better and then—”

First he’ll take your sword, then he’ll take your girl and then you’ll be nothing, all over again, the sword whispered, pouring poison into its wielder’s ear.

Something about twisting the traitor’s knife made it wince, but the blade did so anyway. It had to. It could feel Ren pulling back from the brink. It could see the tip wavering. Now that there was no danger he couldn’t in good conscience commit murder. The Ebon Blade had no such qualms.

“Liar,” Ren hissed, shoving his sword deep into the chest of the man at his feet. A moment ago he’d been Ren’s best friend. There’d been some rivalry there, but now he couldn’t be trusted anymore, he was an enemy.

+8 Life Force

+10 Life Force

Marden died with an expression of disbelief on his face, and once he stopped moving, Ren wept bitter tears at what he’d done. Why did I do that? He wondered as he lay awake until dawn. It’s not like me.

It wasn’t like him of course, but then, he’d been pushed over the edge by the blade, even if he didn’t understand it. In the morning, its wielder rolled the corpse of his friend into the ditch by the side of the road to hide the evidence of what he’d done, after he stripped the body of everything he might have use for, including the man’s bloody bandages.

Apparently at some point during the night, he decided that his remaining friends would accept this tragedy better if he came back wounded, and right now getting and staying hurt wasn’t his strong suit, so he was going to have to fake it.

The blade stayed awake for another day and a night, but it lapsed into unconsciousness before Ren returned to the crossroads. That was just as well, because it was getting tired of listening to the boy's simpering words of regret.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” he kept telling himself. “He made me. It was Marden’s fault.”

This time it didn’t find the peace it craved in sleep, though. Instead, it dreamed of the boy and his journey back to the crossroads. They were little flashes, but it was so linear that the blade was forced to conclude that they were bits and pieces of what was happening to its wielder in the real world as the emotions bled through.

The sword saw him arrive in time to hire a healer and save Vara’s brother, but thanks to the tragedy of Marden’s terrible sacrifice it wasn’t the victory that Ren hoped it would be. The boy was going to live, but Vara was more distant than ever as she mourned for the loss of the man she’d obviously cared for, even if Ren was too blind to see it.

That uneasy, dreamless sleeping lasted for weeks as the little group tried to eke out a life funded by odd jobs and cheap food, but it was all spiraling out of control. Once it glimpsed a pair of strange, gray robed men that it knew with a certainty were Witch hunters. It didn’t know how it knew that, but it knew it would be trouble if they found it. Still, even the act of trying to reach out and warn it owner was enough to bleed away its miniscule strength and plunge it into darkness for days. Without Life Force it was completely helpless.

Even after it recovered slightly, though, most of its glimpses of the world moving on without it, though, were from Ren’s perspective as he tried to keep his friends happy and fed with odd jobs. Even from its strange vantage point, it knew they were going to break apart sooner rather than later. All of that was disrupted, though, when the dragon attacked the crossroads.