Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (28 page)

Shalee sat up. “Lordy, Precious, that was amazing. I want more of that. High-five, little darling.” She slapped the butt end of the staff again.

After placing the staff back on the mattress, she flopped onto her back and concentrated, but nothing happened. Now she was more frustrated than before since she knew what she was missing.
What am I doing wrong?
She thought as she took a deep breath.
Alrighty ... let me think. What was I doing when I felt the tingle?

Shalee pondered for many moments before she finally figured it out.
I was doing nothing. I was just lying here. That’s it, just lying here feeling relaxed. My mind wasn’t all boggled up.

Again, she closed her eyes and cleared her mind. A few moments later, the staff sent another wave of its power through her, but now it was a much stronger wave. Her whole body filled with warmth, and the sensation caused her to tingle in places she did not know she could tingle. There was nothing else she could recall that ever made her feel like this. Again, she sat up and looked at the staff. After a long series of moments filled with admiration, she spoke.

“That’s better than … oh, my,” she giggled. “You can do that to me anytime. Let’s try that again. Okay, Precious? And I do mean, you’re precious. My goodness-gracious, I couldn’t have named you better if I would’ve thought forever. You just keep on making me feel like that, and I’ll never leave this room.”

Shalee rolled back onto the mattress. She could not stop smiling and talking to her wooden friend as she rolled about. Now, she wanted the staff to make her feel as good as it possibly could, for as long as she could keep her mind silent.
Go with it, Shalee. Don’t worry about anything.
When she managed to do so, the staff sent more of its energy through her.

Shalee absorbed the warmth. Every hair stood on end as the intensity built. Large tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as her hands grabbed hold of the mattress. This was the most incredible experience of her life. And before she had the moments to think, an intense rush, far beyond anything she had ever experienced, consumed her being. Every muscle tightened as she exhaled with a deep sense of satisfaction. The sensation seemed to last forever, and after a long series of moments, her muscles relaxed. Exhausted, she drifted off to sleep.

Sam’s Training Begins

After eating breakfast, Mosley and Sam left the inn and met up with a weapons instructor named Barthom Jonas. Barthom was the proprietor of the School of Weaponry, and everyone in the village called him BJ.

BJ was a strong man, despite being 61 summer seasons. He was in excellent shape, and he had acquired salt and pepper hair before turning 20. Many enemies had fallen victim to his blade because they assumed he was weaker and older than he was. He wore leather pants and boots, and his shirt was made of a white fabric that hung relaxed beneath an open vest.

As they hiked to a field that was on a hilltop outside the village, Sam examined his sword. He remembered Bassorine’s words when the god had handed him the blade at the temple.
“This is the Sword of Truth and Might. It is one of a kind. The sword possesses the ability to search for truth when used upon your enemies. Place the blade on your foe’s shoulder, ask it for the answer you seek, and it will be given unto you.”

Sam also remembered Bassorine saying,
“...Just because you possess the sword, doesn’t mean you have the ability to wield it.”

Sam spun the blade in his hand and smirked as he mumbled, “Bassorine said I also have much to learn, and that I wouldn’t want you failing me in battle.” He rolled his eyes.
How ridiculous of him to say that. Who does he think I am ... an idiot? I know I don’t know how to wield a sword.

Now, fellow soul ... do you remember me telling you about how Sam often failed to show his intelligence? Well, you’re about to get an example of how overconfident and stupid the genius could be.

Sam did not know what the god meant when Bassorine said, “
...Just because you possess the sword, doesn’t mean you have the ability to wield it.”

How ridiculous,
Sam thought as he moved the blade around in front of him.
It can’t be any harder than the fights I had back home.
He was surprised at how light the weapon felt. He had never spent his moments around swords, but the blade was appealing, and the markings on the hilt were mysterious. “Hey, Mosley, do you know what these markings mean?”

“I’m sorry, Sam, I don’t.”

“Why are you sorry?” Sam retorted. “I didn’t expect you to know. I was just hoping you did.”

BJ replied, “Perhaps you’re not worthy of knowing such things, son. You’re not a warrior yet.”

“Yeah, sure! What was I thinking?” Sam scoffed. “Only a warrior can walk into a library and look up a bunch of symbols. I should have known I wasn’t qualified to read because I haven’t sliced anybody open yet.” Sam lifted the blade in front of his face and frowned. “All King Arthur had to do was pull
his
sword from the stone and
his
weapon worked from day one. Why would this blade be any different?”

BJ shook his head. “Perhaps this king was not as ignorant as you are.”

The wolf looked up from a rock he was sniffing next to the path. As he lifted his leg, he began to pee and questioned, “Who’s this King Arthur? What pack does he lead?”

Sam smiled, realizing his point had fallen on uninformed ears. “Oh, never mind. Mark your rock.”

When they reached the field, BJ motioned for Mosley to step aside. “Sam, show me your blade and reveal its name. A man cannot fight with a sword he hasn’t named. That would be a dishonor, not only to the sword, but its maker.”

Sam looked at BJ, then at his sword. “I haven’t named it yet. I haven’t put any thought into it. What do you think I should name it?”

“You’re asking me?” BJ grumbled. “Only you can answer that question, son. The naming of a sword must not be trivialized. This is a bond that must be forged between warrior and steel.”

Sam looked at the blade and thought,
That’s ridiculous. This guy’s been watching too much TV.
After a quick smirk, he responded. “Okay, okay. Bassorine said it was a Sword of Truth and Might. So I guess—”

BJ dropped to one knee and bowed.

Sam lowered the blade to his side. “What are you doing?”

“Son, you don’t realize what you have in your possession,” BJ responded, keeping his head lowered in the sword’s presence. “I did not realize you possessed a blessed blade. This is, indeed, a great honor. A weapon of that nature could command the Ultimate Power. One does not simply use a sword like this. A man must seek permission from the blade to command it. As your teacher, I must also seek the blade’s blessing before I can instruct you with it. Please, son, I beg you. Bow and ask for forgiveness. Permission must be acquired.”

“What?” Sam exploded. “You’ve got to be pulling my leg! It’s a piece of metal. How on Grayham can I ask a sword for permission? It isn’t alive. It’s unable to speak. And if it is alive, it hasn’t said one word to me since Bassorine gave it to me. Whatever power it’s said to have, I’m sure it will come from me.” Sam looked at BJ and then at Mosley. He could see the deep level of concern on their faces.

Both the instructor and the wolf took a few steps back. Sam’s worry was growing with each step they took. “You guys are messing with me, aren’t you?”

Just as Sam finished his question, the sword grew red hot in his hand, and it forced the ignorant warrior to release it. The sword rose from Sam’s palm and hovered in front of his face for only a short moment before it turned to place its point beneath his chin like an unseen warrior was wielding it.

The sword made three thumping taps to the bottom of Sam’s jaw with the flat of its blade and then spoke. “My uninformed Sam!” The sword’s voice was commanding, and its blade pulsated with every syllable as if a shallow light had been forged inside it. “I had high hopes for you, but it appears you are an ignorant, arrogant boy who has learned little since his arrival on Grayham.”

Sam watched as the pulsating of the sword went from a shallow white to a soft red, almost as if the blade was becoming angrier as it continued to speak. “I’m extremely disappointed. I’ve waited for more than 10,000 seasons to be wielded by you, and it’s clear to me that my wait was in vain. Someone with your intelligence should understand what you considered normal is long gone.”

The sword hovered close to Sam’s ear and spoke so only Sam could hear. “You know of the Book of Immortality, and you know it has a soul of its own and the power to govern the gods. Since you know this secret, why can’t you accept that a sword of my caliber can communicate?” The blade backed off and spoke again so the others could hear. “In spite of your intelligence, Sam, your inability to accept your surroundings is your greatest fault. The gods have made a mistake. You are a waste of my moments. Return me to Bassorine! You’re useless!”

Sam was speechless. This world was throwing his mind some serious curve balls, and he was not even swinging the bat. He watched the sword float away. It was leaving. He regrouped and chased after it. “Hold on a moment!”

The sword stopped and hovered above the ground, eye level with Sam.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I had no idea I was doing something wrong. I also had no idea you could speak. It’s not like I talked to swords every day when I was on Earth. I would still like to train with you. I’m sorry for my ignorance.”

The sword pulsated a hotter red. “For such a brilliant man, you spend far too many of your moments apologizing for your ignorance. You had to apologize to Soresym as well. I hate to admit it, Sam, but I believe you are pathetic.”

After a long, awkward silence, the sword turned to place its blade beneath Sam’s chin once again. “I might allow you to train with me if you ask properly.”

Sam dropped to one knee. As he started to speak, he realized he still did not know the sword’s name. He improvised as best he could. “I’m sorry ... umm ... sir, for my ignorance. If you’ll allow it, I’d appreciate the honor of training with you.”

The sword held its position for a long while, observing Sam’s demeanor as he kept his head bowed. The light emanating from the blade went from red to white. “Your apology is accepted.” The weapon redirected its point at BJ. “Barthom Jonas, you will beat the ignorance out of him. Teach him humility, and ensure his Peaks are filled with suffering. I want his education to be pounded into him.”

BJ dropped to his knees, along with Mosley, and lowered his head. “I shall do as you command. Thank you for blessing me with this opportunity.”

The weapon floated toward Mosley, stopped, and lowered to a position that was eye level with the wolf. “If it’s your responsibility to watch over this human, teach him to respect what he doesn’t understand. Stop failing in your duty.”

The wolf nodded, “Your message has been received. I will do better.”

With that, the sword returned to Sam and descended back into his hand. The pulsating stopped, and the blade went cold.

“ Thanks a lot, Sam!” Mosley growled. “Perhaps you could think before you speak from now on. You made me look bad, and don’t apologize for your ignorance. I don’t care, and I’m not in the mood to hear it.”

The wolf turned and trotted a few steps before he stopped. “I’m going to check on Shalee. BJ, please train this fool!” Mosley’s green eyes found Sam’s. “And one more thing, I’ve never met an incompetent genius before. You’re my first. You’re stubborn and hardheaded. You remind me of a cub. I dare say you’d be considered the weakest of the pack if this was the Peak of your birth.” Mosley turned and ran toward the village.

BJ shook his head, stood and motioned for Sam to put the sword on his hip. “Until you name the blade, you cannot train with it.”

Tossing the virgin swordsman a wooden stave, BJ laughed. “We’ll start with these. This will hurt you far more than it’ll hurt me.”

Helga’s School of Magical Studies

Helga walked into the training room. She smiled as she saw Shalee sleeping.
Mmmm, I remember what that feeling was like,
she thought. The sorceress leaned over and shook her student to wake her.