Thornblade Chronicles - Volume 1

Chapter 1

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A young boy and an older man stood in a cavern barely lit by torches. The senior was in his late seventies. He had long, white hair flowing to his chest, over his robes of a blue and red mix. His beard was short and matched his white hair. The boy, on the other hand, was about ten. He had short, black hair, silver eyes, and wore a white top over dark brown pants.

"Your task is to gather Ekrite crystals," the older one said, pointing at the large, green crystals protruding from a nearby rock. The boy looked to the crystals, then to the wooden sword he carried.

"Master, how am I supposed to get those crystals with this?" the boy raised his sword in the air. The elder smiled.

"Humor me and try," the elder responded. The boy nodded and ran to the Ekrite, slashing at them but making no progress. He tried again, with all the force he could muster. This time, the sword rebounded, knocking him off his feet. "Again!" the elder ordered. The underling charged at the crystals and used his momentum to try cutting through. The glowing shards emitted a high-pitched ring on impact, knocking him to the ground, while the sword snapped in two. He looked to his teacher with remorse in his eyes.

"I can't," he choked. The elder tossed another wooden sword to the boy.

"There are markings on the sword. Do you see them?" the elder asked. The boy looked at the markings and squinted.

"Enso... Ensorome... vic... victra?"

"That roughly translates to 'enchanted lifeforce' from an ancient language. The sword contains special powers. You may trace glyphs to enhance it in various ways. Draw a bow without its string and try again," the teacher ordered, outlining the path on his forearm, then gesturing to the crystals.

The boy took a deep breath, drew the limbs of a fancy bow on the hilt, and watched in awe as the sword lit up a bright pink color. Without hesitation, the boy ran at the crystals and slashed through them like butter. An immaculate cut allowed the Ekrite to fall freely to the floor. The child dropped the sword and cheered.

"I did it!" he cheered, excitedly handing them to his elder.

"Yes, you did," his teacher ruffled the student's hair. "We call that power 'Bursor.' It allows you to cut through almost any material," he continued. The little boy ran to the sword and began practicing, cutting through more shards.

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After snapping back to reality, the man looked around. The light through the wall revealed it was now late afternoon. He looked at the markings along the sword blade.

"Ensorome victra," he mumbled, rereading the inscription. He drew the glyph on the blade and watched as it glowed pink. He slashed at the bars, which glowed purple again. He began feeling weak again. "These bars... are they draining my energy?" he asked, puzzled by the magic. He looked around the room again. The slashing against the wall made him wonder if he made them all. Maybe his goal was to find a weak point in the wall? It wouldn't explain the cabinet or table being broken.

The swordsman sighed and began analyzing his options. The crack in the ceiling was out of reach. The walls seemed too thick to cut through, with some of the slashes in the walls being deep enough for half the sword blade. The iron bars were protected from Bursor by a similar power. He also noticed damaged obsidian bricks attached to the cell bars. The obsidian bricks were more damaged there than the rest of the cell bars. The power had worn off from the sword by then, so he drew it once more before slashing at the bricks. Within a few slashes, that part of the wall crumbled to pieces, and he was free from the cell.