“Seriously?!?” Orkæn gasped in surprise as the explanation sunk in.

Cyénrû nodded. “It is true. Because I made the blade and enchanted it with my own magic, I am as aware of its resolve as you are. This gives me a special advantage. Even though your sword is indestructible, it can still feel pain. This is no ordinary blade, Orkæn. Because of the way it was made, it gains a partial life upon joining with your essence. And when it feels pain, so will you. This only happens when some enemy entity tries to use destructive magic on the blade. Also, when I had created this fifteen years ago, I called upon the spirits to find one to reside within the blade. That spirit now joins with you, but is not completely fused to your being. The spirit is merely linked to your own spirit, thus remaining an extension of your being. The spirit is female, and her name is the blade’s name. When I joined her to the blade, she agreed to take on the name of the sword. You know her name, for she is part of you now.”

Orkæn looked down at the black metal of the blade. Then he focused on a deeper level of reality, looking through the metal to the very spiritual core. And he saw...

He saw a beautiful black, winged, anthro she-wolf, with similar markings and eyes as his own. And she was nude! Orkæn jerked back, startled, almost dropping the sword, yet somehow, he didn’t. He looked more closely at the spirit. Before, she was smiling. Now, she was giggling, winking at him when she saw the question in his eyes.

Did you stop me from letting go of you accidentally? Orkæn asked her with his thoughts.

Of course I did! She replied, grinning. You wouldn’t think a spirit-bound sword would put up with being dropped every time her master gets scared or startled by something he didn’t expect, now would you?

...I guess not, the boy wolf conceded. He was surprised at the personality this spirit had. How is it even possible that you could control my paw like that?

Well, because that paw happens to be the one holding me, I had only partial control. It’s only when you relaxed control over the paw that I was able to stop you from letting go. In the ghostly window of the metal blade, she appeared to shrug. I had to keep you from getting your head chopped off in battle like a plump chicken at a butcher shop and meat-packing company. Else, how would you ever survive? Listen, you are a very special person, Orkæn. Your destiny is far bigger than any Twilight Wolf could ever imagine. You must survive long enough to deliver that fatal blow against the Kamon Lord and win victory in the final battle. I was created to enable you to do just that. This is why I cannot accept any other master, because I was created for only the Chosen One to wield, and I was created especially for you, Orkæn.

But why do you look like me? Orkæn quarried.

I look like you because I am part of you. I am an extension of your being, just as Cyénrû said, the blade spirit said, so matter-of-factly that she might as well have added the word “duh!” at the end. Because of that, I had to acquire some of your personality traits in order to keep the bond strong. To balance it out, you had also acquired some of my personality traits at that first contact. From you, I became kinder and more considerate, more merciful. I now had to question whether it is necessary to kill certain enemies. But from me, you are now more ready to fight, more competent in battle. Together, we balance each other out.

Oh, Orkæn thought. Well, I am not exactly sure what your name is. Could you tell me?

The spirit scoff. You and everyone else! Everyone kept calling me the Chosen One’s blade without ever using my real name! When I chose you, I had at least hoped that you would already know my name that very first moment yesterday!

I didn’t know your name because you never even told me, the young wolf replied, hurt.

Realizing her error, the female apologized. Your right. I forgot that this was actually the first true interaction between us. I’m sorry for causing you so much distress where none is needed. My name, Orkæn...my name is Lietya. My name means “Light” in the Tongue of the Ancient Ones.

The Tongue of the Ancient Ones? Who are the Ancient Ones? Orkæn asked.

The Ancient Ones are the first Twilight Wolves, before their ten strongest spellcasters wove the great powerful enchantment that searches for candidates for the wolves before the humans were born and then generate a Soul Gem for each at the moment of birth. The name I was given seems only fitting since I am the blade of the Chosen One that is now you.

Oh, okay, now I understood what you meant by the Ancient Ones. Looking up at Cyénrû, he said, “Her name is Lietya.”

Cyénrû chuckled. “I knew the two of you would soon get around to it. But it did surprise me on how much an attitude she could get. It seems like the two of you will get along just fine.”

“But...but we weren’t always of the same thought...”

“Don’t let her mannerisms get you, Orkæn. She has to maintain some independence, else you would always keep getting yourself in heaps of trouble without any warning of the risks or help in the way of escape of any kind. She is the way she is, and for very good reason.”

Orkæn thought that over a bit. Realizing Cyénrû was right, he nodded, accepting the explanation. Orkæn then returned Lietya to her sheath fastened to his belt.

Cyénrû studied the young pup. “Hmm. It looks like you could also use some armor in battle. I know just the thing, for I was also instructed to create the best armor for the Chosen One.” With that, he strode out of the room. When Cyénrû returned, he was carrying an armload of metal armor. Dumping it on the nearest table, he started sorting and arranged the pieces.

“Here’s the armor I made for you after creating Lietya. The armor is exceedingly light-weight, mostly by magic. This same magic also gives it impervious strength and durability. This is the best I had ever made, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to duplicate the feat even if I tried. The armor you see here will never fail you in battle. It even improves your speed and strength, without hindering movements or leaving any part of you unprotected. Nothing can pierce this armor, and even the gaps in the faceguard of the helmet are protected by magic.

“I placed a spell on the armor, and this spell consisted of every type of wards you can think of. Yet unlike the ordinary uses of wards, these get their energy from the blows hailed at you. Even with the wards down, if enemy weapons strike at you in the chest or legs, the weapons will bounce off harmlessly or else shatter. The energy that resulted will thus recharge the wards of your armor. This, I believe, will prove very useful in the final battle.”

“No way,” Orkæn gasped, studying the armor now assembled. Then another thought occurred to him. “But how do we know it would fit me?”

“There are other spells I wove into the metal. One of them adjusts the size and shape of the armor to fit you perfectly without discomfort. Another allows the armor to flex with your body, making the armor like a second skin. A third makes the armor become more compact, allowing portability. Now that the armor is properly assembled, I can thus show you how it can be put away without causing problems.” Touching the breastplate of the armor, Cyénrû willed the magic of the armor to activate. It soon collapsed into several sections, which then collapsed into smaller accessories. Finally, all that remained were a collar, a belt, two ankle cuffs, two wrist cuffs, two wing cuffs, and nine tail cuffs.

And it looked as if they could be put on easily the way they were. And that was exactly what Cyénrû did. He helped Orkæn slide the armor cuffs and collar on, and clipped the wing cuffs on near the shoulders of the wings. The belt Cyénrû buckled slightly above the sword belt to which Lietya was clipped. Then Cyénrû, with permission from Orkæn, transferred Lietya to the new metal belt and removed the leather one. At Cyénrû’s instruction, Orkæn activated the armor. Immediately, the armor pieces expanded to cover his body, joining where the pieces met. Moments later, Orkæn stood fully armored, splendid in the white gold that now adorned him.

Orkæn unsheathed his sword to look at his reflection, and gasped to find how grown up and powerful it made him look. Then he noticed Lietya smiling at him from the other side of the glossy black blade. She gave him a thumb up, followed by a wink.

“Whoa, now that is what I would call a warrior!” Farniadus grinned, clapping Orkæn on the shoulder. “Look how well it suits you! I have a feeling that, so long as you wear this, the Kamons will have to think twice before attacking you.”

Cyénrû nodded in agreement. “It’s yours now. Because of the nature of such armor, it cannot be stolen from you. You can even wear it while bathing or sleeping. So you do not need to fear it ever getting stolen while you are not aware of it.”

“Thank you, Cyénrû,” said Orkæn, putting the armor away, resheathing Lietya, and then bowing his head to him for the second time that day.

“No problem, kid. I always enjoy helping a fellow wolf. Especially if that wolf has a chance to kill that damned Kamon Lord. Remember, when you do kill him, kill him in the names of all those who had suffered because of him.”

Orkæn smiled. “I will. I have my own score to settle, but I will certainly add millions of others in the list of people to avenge as well, your family included.”

Then he and Farniadus left the forge and strode over to the arena to start Orkæn’s training. The arena was the size of a small sports stadium, like the kind where soccer, American football, baseball, and other sports were played with a whole host of crowd to watch. The arena was an ellipse with a major axis of a thousand yards and a minor axis of five hundred yards. The perfect place to practice combat techniques and magic.

Turning to Orkæn, Farniadus began his instruction. “Now we must begin your training. We will stop as soon as lunch is ready. For the time being, however, let’s see how well you can fight with a sword before we begin with your lessons. Equip your armor and draw your sword.”

Orkæn did so, and soon they got busy with the training. It wasn’t long before Orkæn realized that he still had so much to learn. And he was in for a difficult path ahead of him.

To be continued...

___________________________________________________________________________


Wow, sure wasn't expecting that! Ah well, at least Orkæn and Lietya finally gotten to know each other better. And hey, how cool is it to have the best armor in the world, portable, light-weight, comfortable, and indestructible? That is something even I would like to have in real life. To be honest, after rereading this while making the final edits and making changes where needed, half the time I feel as if someone else had written it instead of me. This is just too good a chapter, especially with the part about Lietya's personality. Until next chapter, everyone!

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