2. A Cautionary Tale #3
The horse tossed her head back happily before clomping off to eat the sweet purple, yellow and red blooms that grew in abundance around the glade.
He settled himself on a low, wide boulder near the brook.
Sighing with satisfaction, he took off the magical bag and laid it on the stone before him.
His hands shook a little as he hovered them over the bag then he stuck one inside.
For a wild moment, he thought that the Luminerian wouldn’t be there, that it would have magically winked back to the Armory, forever out of his reach.
But then his fingers slid over the smooth wood of the case and he let out a breath of satisfaction.
He pulled the case out and stared down at it.
Other than its evident age and the scorch marks on it, the case was not terribly interesting.
It certainly wouldn’t be something that he would assume such a powerful enchanted weapon would be kept in.
But then, when he thought about it, maybe this would be the exact type of case the Luminerian would reside.
The sword was a working sword. It wasn’t one that Ailduin had worn for public presentations, but for battle.
Many battles from what he had read. All of them deadly, dangerous and mostly in the Under Dark where the Luminerian cast the only light.
Ailduin would never have put the Luminerian on display.
He had worn it on his person. Perhaps this case was where he set it when he slept.
And Ailduin–with his seemingly spare aesthetic–wouldn’t have carved an elaborate case for the Luminerian.
The beauty of the blade itself was what he would focus on and want to enhance. So a simple case it was.
Darcassan’s trembling fingers roved over the burning wood. What had happened here? Had the sword itself scorched the case somehow? Had the Luminerian been rescued from a burning building? Had someone sent a fireball at it?
The stories say that Ailduin had it on him when he died. Yet it was in the Xradatha Armory. Why not bury it with him? Then again, we don’t know where he is buried. Did the dwarves take it from his corpse or did they find it later? There’s so much we don’t know. But Vex would know…
He swallowed. Despite his casual words to Elasha about Vex’s knowledge and lying to them, he didn’t think he would have the courage to actually ask the Night King any questions to which Vex might lie.
Not yet in any case. Would the Luminerian give him the strength he needed to face off against such a foe? At least to ask him questions?
He went to the simple catch and twisted it up. He rested his fingertips against the case’s lid. His heart was in his throat. He could barely swallow around it. He flipped up the lid and sunlight hit the fabled blade for the first time in an age…
He truly couldn’t breathe as the Luminerian earned its name and glittered and glowed in the sunlight.
It was as if the blade were drawing in the light from all around it and then reflecting it back.
He dropped his hands down to the blade, but didn’t quite touch it.
He wanted to just savor this moment and…
“That’s a magic sword, isn’t it?” A young feminine voice asked over his shoulder.
Shock and alarm had Darcassan launching himself to his feet, the Luminerian in his hand. He spun around. The sword felt heavy. Almost unwieldy. His arm ached already from trying to lift it against his enemy, which was…
… a human girl. Not a child, but not yet an adult. She was an adolescent. Her hair hung to her shoulders in spiral curls. Her dark skin was dewy from evidently being out in the Sun. Her too intelligent brown eyes were fixed on his face. She lifted her hands in surrender.
“Whoa! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to surprise you… though… Aravae always know when someone is coming up to them,” she said the last as if to herself. “I thought you did too.”
He blinked. She was right. Very right. He should have sensed her or heard her or…
But he had been so sure he was alone… No, no, that was not true.
He had assumed he was alone, because he was so desperate to touch the Luminerian.
Fool! Hadn’t he missed sensing the servants back at the palace?
His magic was not working right and he had just plonked himself down in the middle of a glade and taken out the fabled blade and…
“Who are you?” he asked her sternly.
But did it matter? He couldn’t let her remember this. He needed to do something. She might tell someone what she’d seen. But she was likely a nobody who no one would listen to and–
“Gemma Baston and you are Lord Darcassan Fairlynn,” she answered and his heart sank.
She knew who he was! And she was not a nobody!
Not only was she the daughter of Councillor Shonda Baston and General Michael Baston–both of whom could use the Luminerian’s existence against him–but she was a found sister to Finley and Declan.
Declan, the Night Prince! How had his luck turned out so rotten?
How could… but his thoughts tumbled to a halt as he really looked at her in that moment.
She had tilted her head to the side as if listening to something or someone.
She was staring intently at the Luminerian.
Almost as if speaking more to herself than to him even though she addressed him as she said, “Lord Darcassan, that sword does not belong to you.”
Now he was really going to have to do something.