Blade of Erogrund

Chapter 32- Discovery

Saracyir was quiet for a moment. "You have stumbled upon a great inquiry that wise minds will no doubt argue for centuries. Is the pursuit of knowledge for knowledge's sake a worthy venture? But I console you that this is not what we seek. To have understanding of this power may grant you control of it which will reap far greater benefits than simple knowledge of its existence. It is for this reason that I recommend we discover as much as we can about it. Does this sound reasonable to you?" 

Mira was touched by the whisper of consolation in Saracyir's smooth voice and nodded. She felt herself take a deep breath and sought out the Voice in her mind, which had since gone silent. 

Several minutes passed before she shook her head. "Nothing. It's as though it doesn't exist." 

Saracyir's eyes narrowed. "Yet you said it roared to be used only this last night?" The elf did not wait for a response, instead bending own to pick up a pebble from the stone floor. "You may open your eyes. Now you said that this Voice has granted a wide variety of powers?" 

"Yes," Mira answered hesitantly. "I can heal, hurt, change thoughts..." 

The elf nodded. "Then perhaps it is silent until the chance to be used. Try to lift this pebble from my palm." 

Again Mira closed her eyes, picturing the small round stone. Every curve and speck of dust on its dull grey surface appeared in her mind. Wherever you are, lift the stone, she ordered. The Voice was silent. 

"Still nothing." 

"Focus," the elf counselled. "Do not request but command." 

Gritting her teeth, Mira continued to force herself to image the Voice as though it stood before her as she nearly shouted at it within her mind. Finally a murmur flickered through her thoughts. 

Foolishness. Never.

"What?" Saracyir questioned, seeing the change in countenance on the still gory face of the girl. 

"It says.... It's refusing," Mira answered, confused. "It says it's foolish." 

"Order it anyway," the elf quietly commanded. 

"I... I can't." 

Saracyir frowned intently. Only the whispering of the wind and the distant clanging of blacksmiths' hammers interrupted the scene as Saracyir held the stone before her and watched Mira struggle, her eyes closed. 

Finally the elf tossed the pebble aside. "No matter. The task itself is perhaps too futile." The elf spread her slender stance and raised her arms with bent elbows until her sword was positioned across her chest in a sharp diagonal line. " Attack me."

Mira's eyes snapped open. She could only gape. "Attack you? Why?"

Saracyir only shook her head. 

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she bent her arm with the sword until it was arranged as she had seen the warriors carry them only the night before. Taking a deep breath she found herself darting forward, swinging the sword with her as she came upon Saracyir.

Without hesitation the elf lifted her own sword and allowed her knees to bend, absorbing the strength of the swing until the blades remained locked against one another after the initial ring of metal to metal. 

From where she stood Mira practically loomed over the normally taller elf who now crouched with her sword above her chest. The girl felt her teeth grit again as she fought to overpower the elf's iron guard. 

"Come," Saracyir ordered calmly, "overpower me. Force me to release my sword." 

Mira threw herself on the arm that carried her sword, struggling to force the elf's sharp blade to waver even a little. Her mind cried out to the Voice for the strength it had lent her only hours previous but to no avail. Her thoughts remained blank save the desperation she felt to break the sword-lock. 

Before she succeeded Mira felt the elf's sword surge upward, throwing her off her balance and onto on the stone. 

Saracyir rose and offered the girl a hand. 

"My apologies, I did not mean to push you back so hard." 

Pushing away her sword Mira gratefully accepted the offered hand and pulled herself up. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dart of movement as her hair brushed aside followed by the flash of Saracyir's sword edge hurtling toward her head. 

The mere sight of the blade ignited a flame deep in the girl. Power surged from her chest to your arms and hands, consuming her will like a roaring lion. The Voice screamed inside her, awoken by the impending iron edge. Before could even blink her hands seized the blade. The metal burned as though it had been sitting in a Dwarven forge of old and shattered in her hands, leaving her palms miraculously untouched. The shards flew in a dazzling arc carried by the wind that would have pierced Saracyir a hundredfold had she not dove to the ground. 

The following moment was broken only by soft fall of metal shards against the stone floor and the heavy panting of Mira as the Voice subsided. Saracyir glanced upward cautiously beneath the tangle of hair that had come undone over her face during her violent dive. 

"I'm... I'm so sorry," Mira whispered. "I didn't mean to." 

The elf cautiously smiled and stood, wary of the tiny iron daggers of metal that covered the floor around them. 

"There is no need to be sorry, Iäneur. That was quite enough for one day, perhaps. Now a rest is appropriate."