The Blade of The Princess: Part 2 of 2

K'anda sighed deeply as she walked away from the shore of the lake, hating that she couldn't help more, but at the same time grateful for the sight she'd seen below the glassy surface of the lake. It was slow to begin, but her legs fell into the walking rhythm she was now used to. It felt like ages since she'd left her grand palace back in Zhu'ul, but the truth was she'd only been gone near three weeks.

She was glad, in a way, that she was traveling alone. She'd said less than a handful of words, not sentences, but words since she'd last seen her home land. It was a relief. From all the servants, cooks, tutors, trainers, her nine sisters, she thought she'd never know a moment of silence in her life. But the woods were silent, engaging, and all together deadly. K'anda didn't mind. She saw the beauty in all of it, even the black, twisted, dead trees that had fallen over years ago. Their rotted trunks were now home to a thousand more things hidden from sight.

The morning sun blazed high in the sky, only a few skinny clouds hanging around after the heavy rains last night. The air smelled sweet, like flowers and fresh grass, as the heavy dampness of the lake and its humidity grew further away with each step. The Princess followed the path back to the main road, quietly admiring the trees, the bright leaves, purple and yellow flowers, and all sorts of creatures that had made this place their home. Her golden eyes focused on nothing, letting time pass as she took her time getting back to the road, making her walk more than scenic.

At the main road, her boots kicked up small puffs of soft dirt, the Agaden Mountains her only landmark as she began to push her now experienced body toward them. Mid-morning had come, and with it, hunger. On the road there were no other travelers, and the woods cut back a few hundred paces to protect those on the path. It was a situation that would be troublesome, even to the most experienced travelers, but not to her.

As she walked her steady pace, K'anda bent down and scooped up a handful of rocks the size of her fingertips. They were black and smooth, ringed with sediment. She thought them to be pretty. As she walked, she discarded the few that weren't smooth enough, leaving only four from the bunch. Her long legs carried her at a measured pace, and just like her, things were alive and scampering about. She slowed her steps, studying the waist-high grass around her, looking for movement.

It only took a moment before she spotted her lunch: a Grassling. They were like rabbits, but a bit larger, and instead of white, fluffy fur, they were covered in thick, coarse, green, flat hair that gave them the appearance of grass when they laid flat. Apparently this one was unhappy at the proximity between it and her. It was a terrible mistake, on its part. The princess froze, her boot puffing up one last dust cloud as she made the decision to get her meal.

With practiced precision guided by her magic, K'anda pinpointed where the Grassling would be. She lifted her hand with the stones in it, keeping her golden eyes wide open, and flattened her palm and fingers. Her wrist was right before her face as she let her power awaken, focusing on one of the smooth stones and then drawing a slow, deep breath. Upon a cloud of air she had created, one of the stones floated, aimed and ready, then she blew a puff of air, which she magnified, accelerated, and pushed forward to a blinding speed with magic. The stone left so fast she could no longer see it past the line of the grass in front of her. An arrow could not have been quicker, had it been shot from the strongest bow pulled by the mightiest of archers. Nor could it have been more accurate. Without having to go see for herself, the Princess knew the stone had hit, and gone through, the head of the target. With a small, satisfied smile, Ka'nda lowered her hand and went to retrieve her lunch.

Noon had come and gone. The now full princess sat a few yards away from the road, licking the grease of her recently finished meal off her fingers. Using her powers and her sword, she'd divided the Grassling into what she would eat now and meat that she had dried and would store in the already tanned hide from the animal. She was grateful for the gift of her magic, and the things it allowed her to do. Now with a tight and tidy bundle at the back of her hip, K'anda pressed on.

Suddenly she was running. She hadn't paid attention to the sun and it set on her before she could find shelter. The heavy paws pounding behind her, coupled with hungry growling and frantic panting, let her know how close the Moon Wolf was. K'anda chanced a glance back and in the darkness only saw two red, bobbing eyes as it chased her and threatened to close the gap between them. She'd heard tales of how fast the creatures were, but until she had tried to launch a liquid ball of fire at one, she never knew. Tall grass whipped at her exposed thighs, stinging with each oncoming hit. In panic she'd lost track of the road.

K'anda's legs made for the nearest line of trees, hoping that the hungry thing behind her would be lost, but it kept up. She balked left, so did the wolf, she leaped over fallen trees, so did the wolf, she pumped her long, muscular legs as hard as she could, the wolf didn't care. Its pace was steady, keeping with her. Inch by inch, it gained. She could feel the oncoming attack, the animal letting loose a triumphant cry. K'anda's mind tried not to imagine what the final fight between them would feel like. Tried not to imagine the long teeth rending her flesh asunder. A low branch whipped her face, blurring her vision, another, another. She lost sight of the ill-lit woods ahead of her through the tears in her eyes. She saw the log, lying across the ground at the last second and leaped.

The ground gave way. She was only vaguely aware of the feeling of falling; the panic had driven her almost numb. As soon as she realized what was happening she hit the wall of the hole she'd just plunged into. With a flash of pain and a heavy grunt, the air was driven from her lungs and she was unconscious. She didn't know for how long she fell, or the time that had passed since she'd landed. Her body seemed a vague memory of a lifetime ago. All her senses crept back into her in waves, like things being washed ashore by the great oceans near her home of Zhu'ul. Her eyes saw nothing but dark, she tasted blood and dirt. She tried to breathe, but her nose was stuffed up with dirt and blood, too. Now her body was a rack of ache and pain as she fully came to, all her senses in place.

Before she moved she checked her body, sending tendrils of magic down her length to see if she'd broken anything. She was okay. It seemed the Moon Wolf was not hungry, or foolish enough, to follow her down the hole she'd accidentally discovered was hiding beneath a bed of twigs. She was lying atop something metal, the thin material scraping and sending echoes out into the cave she was in. With a moan and wince, she held her hand up, released her restraint of her ability, and created a ball of bright, yellow fire.

She sat up, trying to survey what she was laying on. She'd never seen anything like it: a carriage but squatter and longer, made of metal with glass windows and what looked like iron discs as wheels. Her face bunched with confusion as she stood, using her other hand to wipe away the blood and dirt from her face. She fed more of her gift into the ball of flame, letting it grow and brighten to the point where she could no longer hold it, even at arm's length. With a grunt of effort, she threw the ball up. It howled and turned and kept going, fed by her until it hit the roof. K'anda's golden eyes were as wide as saucers when it finally hit the ceiling, an impossible distance, and ignited to four times its original size. A prayer to the good spirits fell from her lips.

The cave was more than massive; the ceiling had roots hanging low from the earthen material it was made of. As far as her gifted eyes could see, there were rows and rows of the same kind of grey structure that was under the lake. It stretched for what seemed an eternity. Everything lit by the fireball above was grey with dust or orange with age. More of the short carriages lined veins of what seemed to be roads, their smooth surfaces cracked and broken. The taller boxes were barely standing, pieces of them hanging by wires to a skeletal frame. Metal poles, twisted and bent with age, punctuated the many lines that made up the grid where the rest sat. Flashes of yellow and red reflected off dirty glass sitting in the gaping mouths in the faces of stone towers. Even her entire land of Zhu'ul could not have compared to what was in the cave. Not the size nor the expanse of the dead world she'd fallen upon.

She wanted to bound through it, see and study every crack and crag, but caution crept into her. Apprehension wrapped cold and tight around her, freezing her muscles and pushing them to flee. She looked up to the hole or the direction she though it was and spotted a tiny yellow blotch of light. The wall next to her had been fixed with metal rungs, leading up and out. With a final look she limped toward them, her mind reeling with what she had seen.

It was now, and only now, that she wished she wasn't alone. She wanted to know about this dead world and what it was, why it was, and when the final flicker of life in it had extinguished. She vowed, after she obtained a mate, to return to this place and speak with the dead. Her hand gripped the first bar and aching muscles started pulling her up, toward the world she knew.

The Blade Of The Princess Part 1 of 2. (Original Short)

Her sword cleaved through another one of the giant rodents with ease, severing bone, sinew, and muscle. She wouldn't stop until she had eradicated them. There were dozens of them, coming from all directions of the dark and misty woods. Her armor saved her, as did a protection spell. She spotted the next assailants in her peripheral vision, and let the power she had inside herself awaken and collect in her left hand, the one without the short sword. As fast as thought, a ball of liquid flame appeared in her upturned palm and she flung it at the half-dozen fanged creatures. Though the ball of fire - that could burn any living thing down to the bone in seconds - was near her, she ignored it. She was raised with magic, and it was a part of her. The creatures that looked like giant rats with equally giant, gnashing teeth, burst into flames and screamed a horrible death.

She again began slashing, tearing, ripping through the hordes with her sword, throwing balls of flame and air so compressed it was as thick as steel and sharp as any blade. Soon the threat was no more than gore and ash. Sweat slicked her body, pushed to its limits. Her breathing was rapid and deep, sucking in thick, cold air and pushing it out with effort. Her bare thighs tingled from a slight breeze sifting through the thick woods, her neckline sharing the same sensation as she sheathed her sword. Pulling back bright auburn hair, the fleeting wind cooled her slightly. Her breast plate was heavy, and the thick leather belt round her waist weighed down by the enchanted blade was chafing. Her boots, that reached to her knees, were sweaty. Adding insult to injury, she was covered in blood and fur from her encounter. She wanted to feel clean again, but the nearest town was a day's journey in the opposite direction, and she needed to press on.

With an exhausted sigh, K'anda, the princess of Zhu'ul, started down the long path ahead. Mid-morning sun beat heavily down on her little trail. Her mind was put to the task ahead of her: find a king for her land. Men were of short commodity, sold as slaves, as womankind ruled the lands freely. The last great war was waged and many of the men in her land, and the surrounding kingdoms, were destroyed. Though the war happened years before she was born, the tales were heavy with her people. Old, silver-haired females would share them, telling of the fire that fell from the heavens and burned the lands. Of the monuments that stood proud and symbolized so many things, but were now ashes and rubble. Though she was a day's walk from it, K'anda decided to visit the 'Lake of a Thousand Eyes,' something her elders suggested she do before she wed.

The air was sweet with blooming flowers and the rains that had come days before. Her gold eyes scanned the landscape for threats as the trees gave way to an open field with a dirt trail cut through it. She kept her pace steady, not letting the grand and flat nature of the new terrain spook her. Off in the distance she glimpsed huge, yellow glowing eyes in the dusky tree line that belonged to Leviathan Owls. They were the size of a full-grown man, but could sometimes easily double that. They hunted what they wanted, and hunters were quick and full of pride to show off if they'd ever killed one. The afternoon came in heavy with more sunlight and dark clouds on the horizon. It would rain tonight, and she was still a half day's travel to the Agaden mountain village where she'd choose her mate.

The field she walked in was wide, but the woods bordered it with menacing stature. The forest had been cleared to let people travel without fear of the vicious things lurking behind the giant trees with dark bark. K'anda kept walking, knowing that a wayward house had to be somewhere near. Huts that travelers had set up to stay in for the night were mostly deplorable hovels, but it was better than chancing an encounter with a Moon Wolf. These bloodthirsty creatures bore glowing red eyes, fur as black as coal, and were three times the size of a large dog. Thinking of them made her eyes sweep the waist-tall grass again, coming to rest on a sign that indicated the direction to nearest hut, the Lake of a Thousand Eyes, and the Agaden village. With another, more careful look, she discerned the path to the lake cut through the grass. With quiet resolve, K'anda made the choice to head down it.

The path took the princess through another section of woods, though this time the rodents of unusual size didn't mar her journey. She ate apples picked off low-hanging branches that were brown and sweet with a cinnamon flavor. Red, green, and yellow peppers wrapped in mint leaves the size of her palm supplemented the apples. Although content with a full stomach, she still stank of sweat and blood from her morning encounter. The sky darkened to a bruised red with streaks of yellow and pink swashed through it, while the sun sank behind distant, snow-capped mountains. As she walked, the air changed from arid and sweet to thick and moist. The lake was not far and she would have to spend the night there, hopefully in an empty shanty of a fisherwoman who had long forgotten it.

Finally the dark trees broke on to white sand, and a lake that seemed to have no end. The stars had just begun to shine by the time she'd reached the Lake of a Thousand Eyes. The still water was like glass, reflecting each of the bright stars above. She looked to the left and right, but saw no land on either side, just more water. Along the shore of the monstrous lake sat simple huts, each with one window glowing orange from a carefully lit fire. Though the lake was more than beautiful as it was now, shining like diamonds strewn across black velvet, it wasn't the reason for its name. The miracle of the name came from what happened at dawn, and only to those brave enough to swim or row out onto the waters.

Smoke from the fires built white pillars into the darkening sky, and she used them as landmarks to find one without an occupant. The door swung in with little effort, revealing an iron stove with a chimney, a small bed with a straw mat for a mattress and a single window facing east. The door had a latch on the inside, but the window didn't open. Until then K'anda hadn't noticed how exhausted she was, so the dirty bed looked more fine and comforting by the moment. She swung the stove door open and discovered still burnable pieces of wood inside. Like flexing a muscle, she brought forth the power residing deep inside her and collected it in her palm, tossing the small ball of flames into the hearth to ignite the wood. It immediately caught and she now had an orange hue around the small shanty to go about her business. Though she wanted to throw herself onto the straw mattress, she knew she'd regret not removing her armor and boots first.

The process was quick and well-practiced; soon her sword, belt, leather skirt and chest piece sat across from the bed under the window, alongside her boots. Only white underthings that she wore for modesty remained. The night was cooling rapidly, so she was thankful for the small fire and stove to fight off the chill. The straw mat poked her with coarse fibers and rough straw, but it was more comfortable than she could imagine due to her level of exhaustion. With a long sigh, she let sleep take her. K'anda swam through dreams of her childhood, her sisters, and the palace that awaited her return. Her mother's face, warm and smiling, framed in black hair, and decorated with ice-blue eyes, was the last image she saw before she was jerked awake by screams.

The eyes of the Princess Warrior from Zhu'ul snapped open. She was quickly on her feet and running, undoing the latch and flying out the door onto the wet sand. The moon was high and illuminated the shore perfectly. The ground beneath her feet shook, and the sound of timber cracking and splintering apart filled the air. The shanty two over from hers had been smashed by a giant tentacle. Her gold eyes traced the offender back to its owner and saw the monstrosity: A squid. A squid twice the height of the tallest tree she'd seen today had come ashore to plunder the small, wood shacks. The inhabitants of the shore fled the oncoming attack. It seemed the stories of giants living in the lake were true. K'anda was glad she didn't try to swim the glassy waters at night.

Her royal ancestry provided her with magic. Her kind were rare, and treasured by their parents. That was why, though she was not the eldest, she would be queen of her land. She clenched her jaw with the effort and her arms followed, calling forth powerful lightning that danced down her tanned skin, from shoulder to clenched fist. Her eyes firmly fixated on the target to receive the lethal dose. This was the opposite of flexing her muscles. She relaxed them, using the well-practiced aim she had to direct the bolts flying from her outstretched fingertips to the creature. With a loud 'crack' the night lit up like high noon and her aim proved true. The ground, water, and air shook with the deep bellow of the creature as the white lightning danced from the big burn spot it had just received.

The squid slowly turned its giant, spade-shaped head and body toward the offender, tentacles slamming down on the beach, sending shocks and waves of sparkling sand into the air. Black orbs that were the creature's eyes saw her, standing alone in her white slip of a shirt and panties. She flexed again, bringing forth more power to lay another bolt into the thing, when she was distracted by the four women running in her direction. Calling out a warning, it came too late. A giant tentacle smashed down upon them, their screams interrupted, and cut short. The white sand that flew up was stained with red, trails of sinew and entrails connected the massive appendage to the beach below as it was retracted.

Fury fed her powers, the lightning dancing across her skin turned from white to red, this time. K'anda screamed as she let fly the lethal power, twice as large as the last. It tore across the light brown skin of the squid, leaving a huge gouge. High-pitched whines emitted from the monster as it accepted its defeat and started to slink back into the lake, its cries and moans carrying across the shore. The princess wondered how many had died. In the middle of the chaos of the people, screams, and darkness, it was impossible to tell.

A moon tired of the violence below slowly began to hide behind heavy clouds, and then the rain came: heavy and hard. The ice cold droplets felt good, but she was still tired, and now more so. She walked slowly back to her cabin to let the rain wash off a little of the muck and grime she was covered in. After hanging her things to dry, she went back to sleep, dreaming of what was to come.

Dawn broke through the tiny window, the fire in the hearth dead. She climbed up to consciousness, fighting to come awake. She had to move fast if she were to witness the miracle. She donned her underthings and tied together the rest of her armor and sword, dragging them down to the dock that stretched deep into the lake. She ignored the red spots of blood on the sand when she left her shack, paid no attention to the smashed shacks that had claimed others while they slept. Instead she concentrated on witnessing the miracle. Giant, dark shapes unidentifiable on the surface swam through the crystal-clear waters below. They sought shelter from the coming sun. It was a dangerous time, but she took a deep breath and plunged off the side, into the frigid waters.

Her long, muscular legs pumped and her arms pushed her down, fish and all other manners of creature moving out of her way as she descended. It would happen soon. Then she saw it. The reason for the name of the lake. A giant stone square, still a ways down from her, but large enough to be easily seen. It was gigantic. The stone turned brown and green from the algae under the water, but still some grey parts shone through. There were countless squares cut into the stone face of the giant, dark and staring at their visitor. Then the rays of the sun caught up and suddenly the squares was shining bright, each one giving the sun back its light and with luster. The sight was truly amazing. She marveled at it, drank it in, memorized the details as best she could. Then she noticed the equally giant letters on a rock bed nearby: O, E, T, L, H. She wondered what the word was, originally.

She broke the surface of the lake, gulping in air and finally feeling clean. After calming her breathing she made her way to the dock where her things were. Squeezing excess water from her hair and underthings, she donned her armor and weapon once again. Her duty as the next queen of her land pressed her on. Agaden waited. Her first steps today started the rest of her life. K'anda of Zhu'ul was now near the end of her journey.

An Immortals Tale: Part 6

The Man In The Black Suit
Part 6
"It's Only Stupid If It Doesn't Work"

Jon's body was slow to move, taking it's time to react to the giant sword coming down on him. Even his mind seemed to have taken a small break at this more than crucial moment, not bringing forth anything that was of any use at all. In fact he had to remind himself later why he was thinking of recipes for potato salad later, but now he had to act fast. He did the only thing he figured he could do: Work a hunch. Many years ago Jon heard that even a holy man could control the most demonic of creatures with a gesture of a hand and the right incantation. He dismissed it as stupid. Now he racked his brain to figure out what the incantation was. The whole idea seemed ubsurd but he thought after a second, 'It's only stupid if it doesn't work."

His hand shot out, missing the descending blade by a breath and he made the sign of the cross, backwards. Down to up, right to left, then he shouted as quickly as he could while still being understandable, "Creature of the inferno in the name of The Lord I hereby command thee!" His hand was still pointing at the creature, his eyes wide, muscles tense as rocks, and a heavy sword resting it's razor sharp edge against the crown of his head, just above his hair. The world was paused. Then the sword lifted and the demon before him began to take a knee, begrudgingly as it was, but it complied. Jon laughed like a madman while he scrambled to his feet, trying to get the chalky, white dust off his suit. He squatted before the creature and adjusted his hair, his grey eyes focused intensely.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get those sand grains out of a suit like this? We're going to have a little chat now. Depending on your answers you could either walk away from this or your people can come collect you with a sponge." The demon's eyes were filled with hate and ire, staring at the imoortal as it had to obey every word it was told. "Y....Y-yes....Master..." Jon nodded and let the conversation between two things that should not be begin.

"Who sent you?"
"My clan."
"For revenge?"
"For the honor of justice."
"Because I killed your brother, was it?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Did you know your brother along with five others were at a place with a copy of the Devil's bible and the Spear of Tristen?"
The creature hit it's first wall, "......No. But he was doing his duty to-"
"To the one who abandoned your kind here? To the one that cast you out to be slaughtered on the end of the swords of people like me?"
"........There are things you do not understand..."
"Oh? Like the fact that your kind gets promised a thousand times a day to be sent hom in exchange for your servitude? Or that the Templars still hunt you?"
"Like you know anything, puny human!"
"I'm not human. Far from it. I'm older than your entire race. And I know the promises and the subjugation that your kind has suffered, as well. What's your name?"
"....Krevwath....."
"Okay, Krevwath. Here's the sixty thousand dollar question: What do you know about the ones buying up all the realty the old graveyards stand on?"
"Only one thing...."
"Go on."
"They're human."

Jon stood up and nodded his head, his hand coming up to rub his smoothly shaved chin, deep in thought. Humans mean more trouble than misguided demons and their silly, ancient beliefs. And now he had a solid clue to stand upon as well as the addresses of the graveyards. Money had to be flowing as well as the land moving. He needed to speak to a banker. Usually there'd be some odd nomenclenture that came with the entire banker premise, but this time it was just a banker. Then the issue of the giant, horned, revenge seeking demon at his feet came back around.

Again he squatted before Krevwath and looked deep into the burnt brown eyes of the demon, "You'll not get your revenge today. Or any day. For that matter you no longer serve the one below. You serve me. Now. Go back to your normal life before this quest and I'll summon you when I need you, Krevwath. This is not a mercy. This is my way of showing you the truth of what it is you're claiming to want. Stand and go forth." Jon stood up as did the demon. It stared at Jon for a while then sneered and snorted it's disapproval for all the things Jon had just said. Then it turned, sheathed the giant sword, and walked away.

'Zealots.' Jon thought. 'They make the world blind.' Jon restarted his inturrupted walk to the curb again and his phone chimed, alerting him of new messages. Fingers now wide awake with adrenaline and a mind working a million miles an hour pulled the phone out and checked the newly received news. It was an email from Ricky, the vampiric bartender, with the subject line "Brutal Murder On Capital Street". Jon's face twisted into a puzzled expression as he opened the message and read the first line. Then he froze. The line was plain and easy to read and Jon knew what it meant
.
"Michael Larotche, private banker, gunned down in front of business on capital street."
For once the immortal was behind the line, the enemy a step ahead. And that's never a good way to start a fight. If humanity stood a chance Jon needed to even the odds, and quick. He'd need more than a vial of holy water to do it, so he closed the email and switched to his contact list, scrolled down and hit dial. "Hey there, Peter. I'm going to need some stuff. Be there tonight." He flagged down a passing cab and hung up on the contact named 'Armory'.

An Immortals Tale: Part 4

The Man in the Black Suit
Part 4
"This world is old and so am I"

The wall between the three kingdoms had been breached, artifacts that shouldn't be in the hands of amateurs were, and the devils Bible was here. This was a situation that was bleak at best. So Jon sat in his chair in the middle of his apartment, amongst his books, thinking on the past, trying to remember the last time this sort of thing happened.

Like an encyclopedia he ran through all his encounters in the order they happened, cataloguing anew all the information and events from his past. But nothing connected thoroughly, just bits and pieces, faces and names, parts of Scripture. The farther he went back the harder it was to find anything of relevance. Three days passed as he sat, the world outside moving as usual, the thousands of people unaware of the dangers that possibly lurked in the shadows with plans of....That was it. Jon remembered.

It was right before King Arthur took power in England. Somewhere around 470 A.D. It had been a harsh winter, the snow had killed many and many more sick, England was in dismay and seeking salvation. Twelve men rode horses a few miles outside of London, the countryside still cold although the cities had begun to warm. The night was cold, but it wasn't biting, and the moon hung full overhead.Heavy brown burlap robes cloaked ten of the men and the other two wore peasents clothing. One was young and had blonde hair, the other a man in his thirties with close cropped brown hair and grey eyes. They rode at the front of the two columned train of men and beast.

The young blonde spoke with curiosity and wonder, "Father Jon? How am I to save England?" Jon smiled at the boy and sighed deeply, preparing an explanation. "Well, young ward, there's a sword in an anvil atop a stone, ran through like a Knight ill suited at his job." He smiled and the blonde boy laughed a little, then Jon further explained, "The local folk and even some of the royal court believe that the bearer of that sword is the one and true King of England, chosen by God, himself. And you, my boy, are going to retrieve that sword." The young lad thought a moment then turned back to the Father. "But Father you didn't answer my question."

Jon laughed out loud and hard, "You are a clever boy, aren't you?" The boy beamed with pride. "Okay, okay. Like me, young ward, you've been in the care of the church and we have raised you with the love of God in your heart. With that sword in your hands and a crown upon your head you will help restore faith in God back into the people of this land. That's how, my boy." The ward sat contemplative upon his horse. Jon smiled and nodded, having sated the boys curiosity for now. But before the silence could last the boy asked another question. "Father Jon. Does heaven really exist and if it does...will I have a name there?" Jon expressed his appreciation for the question. He looked back at the ten men behind them, the only visible under the heavy burlap was a silver cross that reflected the moonlight. Then he turned back to the boy. "Yes it does. And though we cannot see it we live in Eden every day. God is all around us and so is the eternal heaven that he lives in. And you have a name, my boy. Your name is Arthur." Young Arthur chuckled and stifled his laughter, checking that the monks behind him didn't hear. "My name...is Arthur!" The young man was so happy silent tears ran down his rosy cheeks and into his wide smile. Jons spirits rose in seeing the delight that gave his young ward, something everyone took for granted so often: A name.

Arthur let the silence finally longer, the weight of his name settling in. The crisp night would hold some new and interesting things yet, Jon thought to himself. Arthur and his smile turned back to Jon, "Please, Father, tell me more about heaven. Why do you say we walk in Eden every day?" Jon nodded his agreement and chose a path of an easy to understand story for the boy, "This world is old, young Arthur, and so am I. Already I've existed for more than 300 years, living as a man, passing the word of God and the world we live in much, much older than even I can fathom. And I'm quite clever. Once. Far before you were born. There was a man who tried to unite heaven and earth. It ended very badly. But. In that very bad act we learned good knowledge: The kingdom of heaven is around us." Arthur didn't seem to understand, so Jon went further into explanation.

"The world is not what you think, Arthur. Heaven and earth and the inferno all exist. And they exist here, all at the very same time we do. But. There's a wall between the three kingdoms." The blonde haired boy looked at Jon with wide eyes, "Kingdoms?" Jon nodded and continued, "Yes, kingdoms. And as long as they are separate we can live in peace. Any breach of that wall and bad things will happen." Arthur drank the whole thing in, the horse beneath him walking a steady pace, then he asked, "Father Jon...If heaven falls to earth what happens to us?" Jon took a moment and decided the best answer was the truth. His tone was cold and hard, "We burn."

The words sent a shiver through the young lad. And he spoke with determination and courage in his juvenile voice. "If I'm to be king...I'll be sure to keep the three kingdoms separate and ensure that heaven remain standing. And I'll guard the gates of heaven and earth alike and make certain no one tries to combine them again." Jon offered the boy a sincere smile and a nod of approval. "Well said, Arthur. But first. Let's get you that blasted sword, yeah?" Arthur nodded and faced forward. "Father, you're very old." Jon winked and from then on the twelve men rode in silence.

Back in his apartment Jon smiled a sad smile for his long lost ward, and said a small prayer that heaven received their protector well. But. Arthur reminded him then and now what was afoot: Someone was trying to unite the three kingdoms.