• The name was Cybele. Not a very common name, but it was a start. The walk from the house into town was not particularly exciting, it was about four hours before he could see the main gates but once he could, the way was certain. At the front gate a guard slept lazily, with his chain mail dangling off his head, and his sword lying uselessly two feet away.

    The gate was a good two feet thick, solid logs every on of them, and had to have been at least thirteen feet tall. The war fence was wrapped around a small town in which a few key members of a legendary blacksmith clan still resided. It was one of these two members that were on the letter the old man had written. It was apparent that he was to approach this man with wry attention because there was no guarantee that he would help him. Shaun was not a stupid kid, but this as defiantly a stupid plan. In the letter it specified that he must first piss Cybele off, then spar with him, and if he was deemed worthy than Cybele would help him. The thing about Cybele was, not only was he a blacksmith, but he also was a renouned sword fighter and all around spar champion.

    Shaun found him sitting at an old pub, drinking away the aches that had begun to catch up with him over the years that he spent slowly losing his form, but none of his ferocity. In all honesty, he looked soft, sitting there staring into his cup as if it were the very night itself. Long years of his reputation had kept him out of many fights, and that served to dull his blade.

    So that is exactly what Shaun told the man, and did he get pissed! Shaun just barely was able to move his head out of the way of the flying cup before strong hands were wrapped tightly around his throat. Drawing his forearm dagger, Shaun slid it along Cybele’s ribs. With a gasp of pain, Cybele let go. Shaun took a hooping breath and stumbled backwards as the man drew his broad sword. Instinct fell upon Shaun, and before he knew what had occurred, he was parrying a blow from the broad sword with the hilt of the old man’s sword, and counterstriking with the dagger. The funny thing was, Shaun did not remember drawing the sword, or even thinking to draw it.

    They stood across from each other, sweat and blood dripping off both of their faces. Shaun was nearly at his breaking point. For the last several moves he was just sluggishly able to move his own sword between his throat and the opponent’s blade. Cybele struck again, starting low, and swinging up. The result was that Shaun was pushed into the air, just by the sheer force of the attack. He was done and he knew it.

    To Shaun's surprise, the man followed him into the air. Cybele pulled out a smaller sword and began an onslaught of speed attacks, most of them hitting Shaun. They hit the floor of the pub as a bloody ball of flesh, and striking sword. Shaun could no longer use his hands, his weapons fell uselessly to the ground, all the while Cybele drew his broad sword, and began a downward cleaving blow towards Shaun’s throat.

    In a moment it will all be over, Shaun thought, watching Cybele’s face and awaiting his own death in slow motion. And in an instant, recognition played across Cybele’s face. At the last second, the sword veered to the side, cleaving a solid wood table in two. “I’ll give you one shot runt.” Cybele said, spiting the words as an insult
    “The old man on hallowed hill has been slain, and as his duty, I was sent to discover my own fate, in a blood soaked letter he explained to me: you”
    “Tell me, why did you take up his sword?”
    “It seemed as if it were the right thing to do”
    “Well, that one move just saved your life”
    Lending his hand, and most of his body for that matter, Cybele helped Shaun to his house, to repair some of the damage that he had caused. He did not like the kid so far, but then again, was that not what the old man had said to him or a close variation on it? And if he could defeat the boy, there was no way that child could beat the old man, and that was the only way a warrior of his status would hand over his sword, if he were defeated. So how had the child gotten away? And how was it that the old man lies dead? His own teacher and mentor?

    There was no blackness this time just cold pain, and the inability to move. He was aware of Cybele looming near, and of the bandages pressed expertly to his wounds. He could not remember what had been said, or his own name for that matter. All he remembered was the adrenalin of the fight, and the knowledge that his death was immanent. So was he dead? No because then Cybele would not be there, he was no where near beating him. I am drugged he decided to himself.
    “Yes you are”
    He would have jumped out of his skin if he could have, wholly crap! He had forgotten all about Cybele, and had somehow managed to speak aloud.
    “In four hours time it will wear off, and all of your minor wounds will be completely healed, and all of your major wounds will be mostly healed”
    “Why are you doing this for me?”
    “Because I have deemed you a worthy opponent”
    “Are you kidding me you stomped me!”
    “You lived through twenty minutes of battle with me, with no prior training with a sword, properly trained I do believe that you could, stomp me, as you so crudely put it.”

    After that came silence, and a rest that Shaun enjoyed so much that when he first awoke to the sounds of battle he almost went back to sleep. Then as metal slamming against metal registered in his mind he tried to spring from the bed. A ball of bandages blankets, and sheets tangled around a person hit the floor with a satisfying thump. The sounds stopped as Cybele came into the room, wearing a dark leather apron, and holding blacksmiths tongs “Are you alright?”
    “Fine, just fell”
    “Well quit it before you open your wounds”

    Of course, Cybele was a blacksmith, it was not sounds of battle, it was the sound of a master craftsman at work. Pulling himself onto his feet, Shaun struggled out of the mess of fabric. He could use his hands again, but just barely. He shambled into the room adjacent to the bedroom, and came upon a living room of another shack, this one decorated with dark woods, and animal skins, stretched over wooden frames. The overall décor was rustic, and woodsy.

    The banging began again, and Shaun followed it out a side door to a little black smiths shack off to the side of the house. Shaun stood in the door way and watched Cybele. He stood with his hammer posed, making purposeful strikes at Shaun’s sword. He was not destroying it, He was working it into a blade that could be easily wielded, not changing its overall structure but it was defiantly no longer the old man’s sword. Shaun had left his broad sword at the old mans house, and for some reason right now it felt like that was a good move.

    Shaun walked slowly back to the house, contemplating what he had just seen. Why did he look so angry? And why was it that it looked as if the sword was being better made for him? What was he going to do when Cybele decided that he was fed up with him and wanted him dead? There were too many questions and not enough answers. It seemed as if this was going to be a very long night. And it would soon prove deadly…

    Cybele walked in carrying the newly customized weapon. Shaun sat in a deer hide seat in the sitting room, waiting anxiously to see what Cybele had been up to. It had been hours since the last time he had seen him. And to his surprise, Cybele walked in slowly, and plagued with fatigue. “What happened to you?” Shaun asked
    “I am exhausted from forging your weapon.”
    “But it was already a perfectly fine sword.”
    “Yes but it was tailored specifically for the old man’s needs.”
    “So?”
    “So, you fight like an ape, while as the old man fights… fought like the graceful sword master he truly was.”
    “And your point is?”
    “My point you young fool, is that you fight with a heavy blade, it is in your stance, so unless you are hiding another sword up your… Unless you have another sword, than I think it was very kind of me to broaden this blade for you, it is not as heavy as a broad sword, but that is only because when we get you a real weapon, you will be able to carry them both, and wield them in unison, or at least one directly after the other, So, you little jackass, here.”

    The sword was still the same length as it had been, but now it was wider, and thicker. It felt as if the sword was an extension of his arm. It was by no means light, but it was formed to fit his hand, and its weight justified Shaun’s movements. There was a question in his mind though, how could he know to make a sword in these exact parameters? What was the reason he was able to, in one day, reform a sword molded for another, to fit his grip so perfectly? So he asked just one word “How?”
    “When we fought, I was able to see how you moved. I saw you strike as if you had a claymore in your hands. When you blocked me with the hilt of your sword, you’re lucky I did not cut through it, that is a move only the hardened steel of a claymore should make. When you were able to stop my attack with the flat of your blade against your back, it was a foolish move for a long sword, but a broad sword would have been fine.”
    “I have a confession; I do not know how to fight… I was just kind of reacting when we sparred…”
    The shock on Cybele’s face was clear. An awkward moment of silence hung in the air between them. It was almost as if Cybele’s mind could not wrap around the fact that he had not been trained. Had the old man had a reason not to train him? No because then he would not have sent him to me. If he spent that much time with the old man and did not train, then Cybele had a lot of work to do. “Your training starts tomorrow.” He told Shaun.
    “But why?”
    “Because, there are a lot of people out there who are going to try and kill you. If you want to live, you will accept my training.”
    “Sure thing.”
    But in his head he was mauling over the reasons as to why this master swordsman was all of a sudden offering to train him, after making him a sword, when just one short day ago, he was prepared to kill him. Dusk was approaching, so Shaun decided to go into town, maybe explore a little. He had a few gold bits of the old man’s, and he figured he might as well use them.

    He thought back to Cybele, refusing to take any gold for his work. He had said that ‘an apprentice always pays back his master in hard work, long hours, and a little lager’. It all turned out OK in the end though. It was a short walk to the shopping district from Cybele’s home. The way was dark, with alleys splitting off in every direction. It smelled of mold and a dampness that would crush the lungs if it were heavier, and the smell of death hung about it.


    Shaun swore he had seen the shadows moving, and right about now he was wishing he had his sword. He could hear foot steps, but every time he turned his head they stopped. Just as he was about to set foot into the street of the shopping district, an arm snaked out and wrapped around his throat, pulling him back into the dark, dampness of the ally. He felt the point of a knife blade against his throat, and stopped struggling almost instantly. The point pressed just barley against his skin, but yet he could feel the blood welling at his shirt collar.
    “Who are you?” a female voice asked him roughly
    “I could ask you the same.”
    “Don’t play games with me” She said dangerously, pressing the knife a little harder
    “My name is Shaun”
    “Why are you here Shaun?”
    “To go shopping?”
    She slapped him, and with the knife to his throat, it caused the skin to part, leaking more blood down the front of his shirt. The pain was something that could only be described if you knew what it is like to have a blade ran slowly through your skin, parting it as it went.
    “If you stop cutting me I will tell you what you want to know. I am unarmed, and I do not need to be slapped.” Shaun said tersely
    “You wine like a girl” the woman said, dropping Shaun on his face “so start talking”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “What happened to the old man?”
    “He is dead”
    “No s**t Sherlock, how”
    “He was assassinated”
    “By whom?”
    “I haven’t the slightest clue”
    “Then why did I see you leaving his place, while the flames lept up, instead of saving him?”
    “Because by the time the paralysis wore off, he was already dead”
    “So he paralyzed you in the struggle, and you had others kill him?” She screamed.
    “NO, I worked for the old man”
    “You what?”
    “That’s right, I owed him for saving my life, I woke up in a hole, and a note covered in his blood told me what to do.”
    “The fire?”
    “So that his body would not be disgraced by wild animals and rot.”
    She slumped against a wall, sheathing her dagger, after wiping the blood off, and sliding slowly until se was sitting down. She tossed him a rag, and he pressed it to his still trickling throat. “Did you know him well?” Shaun asked
    “He was my grand father”
    Shaun didn’t say anything to that, and for a while, they just sat there in silence, each thinking deeply, Shaun afraid to move, the woman, apparently to grief ridden to move. The two were a sorry sight, both of them almost crying, sitting on the dingy floor of a dark alley. After what seemed like hours, she spoke. “My name is Athena”
    “What do you plan to do now Athena?”
    “I do not know”, she looked up “I was so sure that you had killed him, I ran away from home to pursue you, against my father’s wishes, he told me if I set foot in pursuit of you, not to come home, because I will not be welcome.”
    “Well that sucks… Wait a damn minute, how old are you?”
    “I’m eighteen, thank you very much.”
    “Well maybe Cybele….”
    “How do you know that grumpy old basterd?” she asked cutting him off
    “His name was that which your grand father wrote to me in a note”
    “Do you still have this note?” she asked excitedly
    “Sorry no.”
    “Where are you staying?”
    “With Cybele”
    “WHAT?”
    “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you so rudely cut me off”
    “Sorry…” she said as she blushed a little
    It was just then that Shaun got a really good look at her. She had midnight black hair about shoulder length, and was about five foot four. Her eyes were the color of light purple, and she had a face to kill for, and the body to follow. She was currently dressed in all black leather, and wore various swords and daggers. “Where are you staying?”
    “On the streets.”
    “Come stay with us.”
    “I don’t think so…”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I don’t think he likes me.”
    “But you haven’t even tried!”
    “Whatever, don’t say I didn’t warn you”
    The walk back was slow, quiet, and pleasant. With Athena in his company, even the air seemed easier to breathe. They walked close to each other without even realizing it. They emerged from the alley way, and began to approach Cybele’s house. The door opened, and a blur moved past Shaun. Blade hit blade, and battle commenced before Shaun even knew what was going on. Running inside, he grabbed his sword, and spun to leave the house. The battle outside was loud, and it got the neighbors attention, pulling them from slumber, curios and pissed off. Shaun threw himself into battle, parrying both swords, and dodging nearly as quickly. For long minutes, the battle raged on, Shaun stopping them from killing each other on many occasions. He was on neither side, but he was pissing off both sides.

    All of a sudden, they both turned on him, thrusting and advancing. They were not playing around; they were trying to kill him. He had taken for granted what a proper sword could do. With the weight right on his blade, and the sword being almost perfectly balanced, he was able to easily stop the oncoming attacks, from both people, and all four swords. It had become a dance, and with a pattern forming, Shaun was able to easily side step and deflect most of their attacks, the ones that did hit, hurt but that was it, striking only small scrapes or scratches into his skin.

    They were backing him into a corner, their attacks becoming more swift and precise, Shaun was not worried. He had never felt so alive in his life. Everything might as well have been moving in slow-motion. Cybele swung his claymore in a great arc, Shaun side stepped, and then jumped onto his blade, running the length of his arm, Athena swung a sword at him, and he pushed off of it as if it were a wall, winding up behind both of them, Then he went on the offensive, Driving them both slowly into the corner, leaving his fair share of cuts and scrapes as well. He was swinging his sword maddeningly fast, almost beyond the realms of physical capability. Cybele lost control of his smaller sword, and Shaun sent it flying, leaving him only his claymore, good for not much else but defense against his oncoming onslaught. Athena was reduced to daggers, as all of her other blades had either been disarmed, or cleaved cleanly in half.

    Athena stumbled over a rock; the focus of both men went to her instantly. Shaun lunged; While Cybele threw himself in front of her, claymore in hands. Cybele beat Shaun there, but just barely, and took his full swing, sending both him and Athena flying, but not before Cybele hurled a glass bead the size of an apple at Shaun. It hit him right between the eyes, and shattered, spilling its contents onto his skin, the potion putting him to sleep instantly. “What the hell was that?!” Athena yelled at Cybele
    “It was almost as if he was possessed, if he would have had a secondary weapon, we would have been screwed.”
    “If you had not thrown that sleeping potion, we would still be screwed.”
    “I just hope he will be alright, there was enough sleeping potion in that bottle to take down a herd of elephants.”
    “I vote we tie him up…”
    “Agreed.”
    There was something wrong; he was not supposed to be sleeping. He had been drugged! The last thing he remembered was walking towards the two, and trying to stop them, he had tried hadn’t he? Did he ask them to stop? His memory would not go that far. It was as if he had lost a chunk of time, there was just a blank spot where his memory should be. Oh well, he will just have to ask Cybele about it. He tried to sit up, but his body was heavy, he could barely move, almost as if he had a tremendous exercise session. Not only that but his hands and feet were tied behind his back.

    He fought to get his hand free but he was too weak, all he could do was make frustrated noises. Athena entered the room, but stayed cautiously back. Cybele came after her, sword drawn. Athena darted forward and slashed the ropes, dropping his sword in front of him. Shaun couldn’t believe it, he picked it up as Cybele attacked but he was too late and the sword sank deeply into his shoulder. With a cry of pure pain, Shaun collapsed on the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming around the upper body, a little too quickly, and Shaun could feel the life draining out of him, slowly into a pool on the floor. He heard Cybele begin to swear, and to yell at Athena. The world was getting dark around the edges, until the only thing he saw was a far off pin p***k of light.

    The world swam lazily into view, tilting this way and that as the blood was forced into his veins. He tried to fight them off worried about S.T.D.s but he was in no condition to move, let alone turn down a blood transfusion. He hurt all over, and he remembered Cybele attacking him without a cause, and before he was even ready. The pain was not supposed to be this bad. He felt as if he had been cleaved in two, partly by Cybele’s sword, and partly by his actions. He was supposed to be able to trust this man. There was something else amiss to; even though they were clearly talking, he could not hear a word they said. He had gone deaf. Of all the things to happen to him so far this was the worst. He waited until the I.V. was removed from his arm, and sat up. The shocked look on their faces told him they thought he was still under. It was now or never. He jumped from the bed and grabbed his clothing and his sword all in one grab. He slipped into the clean clothes and bolted out the door.

    He headed the opposite direction of the shopping district, moving along the gate until he could find a foot hold. He began up the wall, but was very shortly pulled down by the gate guard. The gate guard was yelling stuff at him hoping for a response, but being deaf and betrayed, made Shaun oblivious. The guard took him in, and locked him into an underground cell. His sword had been confiscated, and he was completely without strength. He lie still on the cot, hopping nobody would try to talk to him, or get him out for that matter.

    They stood dumbfounded and watched Shaun go. He shouldn’t be able to walk, let alone run like he did. After he did not stop the blow and passed out, they had had to use an extreme sedative to keep him from hurting himself on the operation table. They had to find him, and fast. If he did not get medical treatment soon, he would die. The blood transfusion is the only thing keeping him alive. It was too dark to do anything right now, they would have to wait until daylight, and look for him in the morning. Never had Cybele seen anyone take so many drugs and be able to stand and run. The boy must be strong to be able to take such large quantities of drugs, so many hits, and so much battle, and just shrug it off, like it was nothing. All there was to do now was sleep till morning.

    Many people had come in to talk to Shaun, but seeing as he had no idea what they were saying, he did not respond. The night began to dissolve into day, and Shaun could feel the poison wearing thin. He still could not hear, but he could move fast again, with obvious limitations due to his injuries, but the town medicine man had come in and patched him up. Shaun tried writing, but they looked at it as if it were a picture. The problem was, he could talk to them, but they could not talk to him. It made communicating very hard.

    The thing that kept Shaun wondering is why crowds of people were outside of his cell, watching in awe. They would change every once in a while, and some would even try to speak to him. Morning came and passed, and a long, sharp light his Shaun it the eyes making him look up. They were opening his cell, and they had his sword, naked but whole with them. They said something to each other, and then to Shaun, and opened the cell, giving him back his sword, and what were probably voiced warnings.

    Shaun spent the day in the shopping district. People all gave him a wide birth, and many shop keepers, either would not sell to him, or would give him stuff for free or at a major discount. The shop keeps, they deal with all kinds of people, so the fact that Shaun could no hear, was no problem to them. Things were finally starting to go okay.

    Two loud pops, and splitting pain, signified the return of Shaun’s hearing. Cybele was standing behind him when he cried out; if not for the cry of pain Cybele never would have found him. All of a sudden every little noise was splittingly painful, and a strong arm was wrapped around him carrying him off to god only knows where. The pain became too great, and Shaun passed out, again.

    Cybele felt Shaun go limp. He saw the boy’s reaction, and thought it might be a repeat of yesterdays, but as soon as he started screaming, Cybele knew he had to get him out of there. He ran as fast as he could back up to the house where Athena was resting. It was her who had given Shaun the blood and it was her who had suggested the shopping district. She had given so much blood; she was in almost as bad of shape as Shaun. She was on his bed, and none of his furniture was big enough for the boy to lay on comfortably, so he set Shaun on the bed next to Athena.

    Shaun felt cold; he stretched his arms out looking for a blanket, and cam across the bundle. He pulled on them and curled up inside of them. Athena was jarred to consciousness, and found Shaun under the blanket with her, she told herself she was freezing, and curled up next to Shaun. Shaun, woken again, puts his arms around Athena. They both fall into a deep comfortable sleep. Even though he said Shaun’s training started the next day, he let the two sleep in each other’s arms. Shaun was the first to awake, feeling very relaxed, as if he got sleep that he very much needed. He stretched his arms to figure out they were around something. His memory of last night kicked in, and he blushed but kept his arms around her. She came to next, her eyes opening cross and coming into focus, she looked into his eyes, pulled in a breath and yawned into his face. Morning breath, yummy. She smiled lazily and closed her eyes again, moving closer to Shaun. Then in a moment of realization her eyes snapped open and she nearly broke her neck jumping out of the bed, and hitting the floor because the blankets were still wrapped around her and Shaun.

    Cybele came running into the room, to find Athena on the floor on one side, and Shaun, bright red, halfway pulled off the bed by the covers. “I wish you two would quit that.” he said in a tired voice, and turned to leave, smiling when his back was to them. They started out the day horsing around. At breakfast a subtle amount of food was thrown, and by noon, everyone was ready to get started. They told Shaun what he had done. How he had single handedly defeated a sword master, and apprentice, both of whom duel wielding, with a single broad sword. At first he laughed. After putting all of the facts together he realized they were being one hundred percent serious. “But how?” he asked them.
    “We don’t know”
    “And, what the hell?!”
    “What the hell what the hell?!”
    “What is your two’s problem?”
    “My father tried to kill Cybele.”
    “And a grudge was born.”
    “Then why aren’t you fighting?”
    “Because when we fought you, a mutual relationship was born”
    “Mutual?”
    “We agreed not to kill each other so that we could kill you.”
    That hurt, Shaun decided. “And now that I’m not trying to kill you?”
    “It is for the grater good, that we both live, after all, we have the same goal in mind.”
    “And that is?”
    “Avenge the old man”
    “Agreed”
    “I’m with you” Shaun agreed.
    For the rest of the day, Cybele taught Shaun the proper way to hold a sword. It got on Shaun’s nerves because he couldn’t seem to keep it right, and it got on Cybele’s nerves, because he couldn’t seem to keep it right. The whole time Athena was laughing at them both. Dinner rolled around, and every one was exaughsted, and hungry. The day had been long and trying. To the skills he needed, Shaun was at a blank. He never had thought about the fact that there was a specific way to hold a sword. Today all he did was learn that, and it took almost everything out of him.

    Dinner was a lump of cheese, and a similar lump of bread. The only up side was the coffee. After dinner every one was ready to hi the hay, and then they saw the problem. One bed, three people, and there was no furniture to sleep on. They wound up giving Athena the bed, and Shaun and Cybele slept on either side of it. Shaun was cold with his one thin blanket covering him, and one spread upon the dirt floor. He heard something moving above him, and strained his ears trying desperately to figure out what it was. A shadow slid off the bed silently, and lie next to him. Athena had left the comfort of the bed to lie by his side. He put his arms around her waist, and she followed suite, and they once again, fell asleep in each others arms.
    They awoke in the morning to Cybele stomping about the house, moving heavily this way and that, His movements punctuated by clanging sounds. Both Athena and Shaun opened their eyes at close to the same time. For a few moments, they just laid there in each others arms, staring into each others eyes. Then Cybele came in shouting about work to do or something along those lines. So they got up, and went on about their day.

    Today as it turns out, Cybele was going to make Shaun a broad sword, to begin training with it. Only a little embarrassed, Shaun said he already had one. Cybele went to cussing, and storming about. Finally, he asked where it was. Solemnly, Shaun said that he would retrieve it. The walk to the old mans place turned out to be more difficult than he expected.