Note: For the index of all posts in this series look here: Table of Contents

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Two years ago…

Synil loved spending time at the falls. The cool, refreshing water flowing over her as she lay on the sun-baked stone was the perfect mixture of temperatures to make her skin tingle. She closed her eyes and listened to the deathly roar of the waterfall; the sounds of nature’s most wondrous element helped her focus her mind in preparation for meditation.

The gentle beating of wings could be heard, growing louder as the beast softly landed on the nearby bank. Synil let a small smile cross her serene face as the sun was blocked from bathing her in its warmth. There was only one person who knew where she would spend hours on end during this time of year, and the ever so slight high-pitched whine of his breathing confirmed Synil’s suspicion before his nasal voice filled the silence.

“Why you spend so much time in this place instead of remaining in the comfort of the manor I will probably never understand,” he stated, sounding rather pompous and, to a point, distressed.

“Just as why you cannot appreciate the power and beauty of nature will never be completely understood by me,” Synil replied, her voice both graceful and commanding, “What brings you here, Kel?”

“An emissary has arrived who urgently wishes to speak with you. Were it not for the sword that he carries I would have dismissed the notion of fetching you immediately,” Kel replies as he moves slightly to his right to avoid a small wave.

Synil opens her eyes, disbelief shining through them as brightly as the sun shone above them, “Sword? I can only think of one that would invoke such a reaction. Are you saying…?”

Kel nods as Synil’s voice trails off, “Yes, madam. It is, indeed, the Sword of the Chosen.”

Synil remains motionless for a moment, the shock of this news rippling through her as though it were a bolt of lightning. The low growl of the Pegasus, waiting calmly for them on the river’s bank, bringing her attention back to the present. Synil rose to her feet, pulling her robe off of the nearby branch and wrapping it around her.

“Let us make haste, then. I fear not to do so may be an insurmountable failure on our part, for the reappearance of the sword has always marked the resurgence of darkness.” With that thought still occupying her mind, Synil and Kel mounted the Pegasus.

“Quickly, Shelora. We must make it back to the manor immediately,” Kel whispers in the Pegasus’ ear, and the beast lets out a soft whinny as it soars gracefully into the air. Within moments they were high above the land. It would take them no longer than a couple of minutes to reach the manor, and in that time Synil knew that she must be prepared for the worst.

Synil closed her eyes as they flew, embracing the strength of the wind as it threatened to rip her from her perch on the back of the Pegasus. Her heart raced. The last time the Sword of the Chosen was seen in these lands was almost two decades ago, and it had long been rumored to have been lost. The sword was not really anything spectacular to behold. It even looked rather plain to the average eye. It commanded the respect of the world, however, for two reasons: it was practically indestructible, at least by conventional methods, and it always reappeared before the coming of another war. The sword was possessed by a sentient spirit, who would drive the bearer of the sword mad if it was not in the possession of a worthy wielder.

The Pegasus dropped suddenly, and Synil opened her eyes to see watch them descend onto the manor grounds. She quickly dismounted, and with a quick incantation her appearance changed from the relaxed, yet disheveled, attire she so often preferred to the formal robes and groomed appearance expected of most sorcerers.

“Thank you, Kel. Please see to it that our guest is shown to my study. I will be there in a moment.”

“At once, m’lady.”

Synil strode into the manor and made her way to the upper chambers. She walked into her private room and picked up a small vial from one of the tables, tucking in neatly into the  folds of her robe. She then turned and pulled her belt and dagger from the edge of the bed and wrapped them securely in place around her waist. After a quick glance around the room, a habit she had long ago developed to ensure everything was in order, Synil strode out of the room and down the hall to her study.