The Legend of the Sword of Apocalypse: Part One

Many years ago, there lived a young purveyor of weaponry who was called Reidar. He lived in a small room in Faerie Palace, constantly at work and creating new things for vanquishing evil. He was widely known, and was trained under the wings of some of the best weapon makers. In fact, he was once a young Eyrie who had lost his family long ago in a battle against evil, and was adopted by a group of faeries that made their living by creating items to serve the just well in battle. Reidar learned the ropes from them.

     In fact, they had trained him so well that one day he would show up with a tiny yet formidable dagger, and the next day, a shield that could halt any kind of attack, no matter how strong or powerful. Everyday the yellow Eyrie had something to show off…that is, until one sultry day in Faerieland…

     The weapon maker was pacing his workshop anxiously. The Faerie Queen had asked him quite a difficult request a few moments ago, that Reidar would concoct one particular kind of sword that would be specially designed to destroy all abhor. The blade had to shine with a brightness that would make villains cower in terror, and the hilt was to become a beautiful golden color that glinted like the rays of the sun. Sure, the Eyrie had a lot of experience, but he was never this pressured before.

     Reidar stared hard at the furnace he had lit, and the materials he had strewn onto his table. "It has to be perfect," he muttered. "I cannot let the queen down." He grabbed a piece of scrap paper and began sketching a simple outline of a sword, but just as soon as he started on it, Reidar crumpled it up and tossed it into the flames. The yellow Eyrie tried again, but the furnace eventually swallowed up the idea as well. Soon he had thrown quite a number of ideas right into the fire, and he was getting more and more frustrated by the minute.

     Sighing, he put the quill point onto another sheet, and doodled another blade shape. Reidar slowly formed the outline of the hilt, and took out a small golden stick. He began to color it in, and added silver to the sword's blade. At last, the beautiful weapon was completed - the draft, anyway. The actual thing was another story.

     He faced the bit of steel on the table before him and got to work. The Eyrie even raided his stash of extra trinkets to add a few gemstones to the hilt as decoration, and to complement the gold color. The weapon maker worked hard and long, as the day wore into night, bent over his masterpiece-in-progress. Hopefully it would please Fyora, he thought, melting the yellow metal in the furnace.

     The sun had begun to set outside his window, and Reidar kept on going, his eyes slowly glazing over. He took out his journal from under the pillow on his bed, and began to write while the gold cooled down in the mold he was using to shape the handle just right. He had even added a few jewels to spice up the plain layout, and so made it sparkle even more than Fyora had wanted it to in the first place. At last, the yellow Eyrie stood up and walked over to his finished creation after a short while.

     The blade came out slightly larger than he thought, but it still glistened with a silver shine. The hilt was gold, and easy to grip, and had a few precious stones within its design. He gently lifted it up, gave a few swipes, and found that it swished smoothly through the air as if it were a feather. Although the night had fallen, Reidar took flight with the sword in tow, and headed for Faerie Palace, whose windows were still lit up.

     "Halt! Who goes there?" Two of the queen's Kougra guards pointed their spears at the purveyor of weapons, who stepped back in surprise.

     "My name is Reidar, and Fyora expects me to deliver this blade to her," he replied calmly. The sentries raised the sharp things up, a signal for him to pass through. The Eyrie walked underneath, and was standing in one of the chambers of Fyora's castle. A lovely faerie took his paw and led him through the corridors and hallways that twisted and turned all over the place. Some other of her comrades would stop to stare at the beautiful sword he held, and others often asked if they could touch it. Reidar smiled, very flattered at their comments.

     At last, they got to the huge violet double doors. Ceres the air faerie took out a golden key from her pocket and unlocked them. They swung open to reveal a huge, seemingly round room immensely decorated with all sorts of trinkets and tidbits. The Faerie Queen sat at her throne, chatting animatedly with Illusen.

     "So anyway, he completed my last quest, and so he got the best prize of all," the earth faerie was saying, tossing her brown hair back and smiling. "It's been a long time since the last time I gave out my staffs to the worthy." She caught sight of Reidar standing in the doorway.

     "I see Her Majesty has a visitor," said Illusen, smiling at the yellow Eyrie. "Come in, come in. Why do you visit Queen Fyora at this time?"

     Reidar stared down at the ground as he slowly walked towards the monarch. "I bring her the best sword among my creations, her request forged with steel and gold. She has asked that I create THIS sword, with a blade that shines with the dazzle of justice, and a hilt that glitters like the rays of the sun." He bowed before Fyora, and presented his weapon towards her.

     She stood up from her throne, and took it from his paws. "I see you have done well, Reidar. Never in my reign over Faerieland have I seen such a lovely show of workmanship."

     He grinned and continued to look down at the floor. "Thank you. It was my pleasure."

     Then, Fyora's expression became more serious. "The reason why I have asked you to create this beautiful sword is that…well…there is evil afoot."

     "Evil?" repeated Illusen. "You mean - "

     "That's right," said the queen. "A dark faerie has been seen commanding a huge army to rise up against us and take our kingdom. Not only am I going to create and command my own soldiers, I myself will join in the fight, and I needed a good weapon that would aid me in my battle. So I called upon you to create the sword."

     The earth faerie nodded. "So…what are you going to name it?"

     "I'm not really sure. Do swords always have to have names?"

     "I don't know. Most of them usually do. And they sound really cool."

     The Eyrie and Fyora traded a look briefly and shrugged.

     Illusen scratched her head. "What? It's true. And usually, the name of a weapon denotes its strength, its use and its purpose."

     "Good point," said Reidar. "And I never got to name it while I created the blade for the queen." Here, he bowed again. "The only thing I know about this sword is that you wanted it to be designed for vanquishing evil, and it would shine through the darkness of abhor."

     "Light through darkness," repeated Fyora, stroking her chin in thought. "I remember a word that means 'revelation', and it would be a great name for my weapon. After all, brightness piercing the night is almost like revealing the secrets of the treacherous side and scattering them away."

     "Wow, deep insight much?" remarked Illusen. "What's the word then, Your Majesty?"

     Reidar waved his paw. "I think I know…I've heard of it some time ago, while the faeries were raising me. Was it 'apocalypse'?"

     "Why, yes, Master Reidar! I shall name this new sword - the Sword of Apocalypse."

     Illusen and the Eyrie traded smiles, and clapped. "Those renegade rebels won't know what hit them!"

     While the three continued talking, none of them saw one of the queen's attendants lurked just outside the throne room, listening to their every word. The air faerie took out a twisted, purple mirror to examine her reflection, and the face of a dark faerie looked back. She grinned, a horrible malicious grin, and nodded to herself.

     "So, that stupid Fyora has a spiffy new weapon. Wait till General Julia hears of this! When those goody-goodies are asleep in their beds, I will snatch that lovely Sword of Apocalypse from them. With that powerful blade on our side, Faerieland is as good as ours!" She cackled softly, glanced around the corridors and reverted back to her old self behind a purple smoke screen.

     Agent Deana was about to strike tonight. It would be the beginning - and the end - of the SOA. Those fools don't know what I've got in store for them, she thought evilly. The dark faerie caught sight of a light faerie in the hallway, and quickly reverted back into her disguise. The passerby greeted her with a wave of her hand, and continued down the corridor.

     When she was out of sight, Deana let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps getting the Sword of Apocalypse was harder than she thought.

To be continued...