1. Macabre Marmalade (COMPLETED; EDITING)

XXIX(13.2)

Mab showed up next Friday carrying a bundle, with his milky white sword on his back. Cassandra opened the door and smiled at the diminutive halfbreed.

"Hey, there munchkin," she said motioning the boy to enter. "Todor was beginning to worry about you."

"I ain't no munchkin, Red. And Todor has my phone number," Mab replied grinning back.

"You seem happier. What happened?" Todor asked joining them by the door.

"My mom went on a trip, so I can move more freely now," Mab explained happily."And uncle Carl finished your sword. You owe him two thousand suncrown marks," he said handing over the bundle.

They moved to a living room where Todor used the dagger to open the canvas packaging that Carl wrapped the blade in. Once he freed the blade he took the weapon gingerly taking a sharp intake of breath.

It was a beautifully crafted piece that inspired awe in anyone versed in such things. Todor was grateful that basket hilt wasn't elaborate and that cage around the handle was just three wires on the side. He never practiced with a basket-hilted sword before so he was afraid his knowledge that mostly came from the German school of swordsmanship would go to waste. Ironic then that my warrior spirit asked for the Italian sword, he mused at the split in his knowledge and wants.

"We can start training with human swordsmanship now, right?" Mab asked eagerly, the hope making his eyes shine as he stared at Todor.

"Sure thing squire. If Cassandra doesn't mind me skipping training today," Todor said sending a disarming smile to his girlfriend.

"I have been promising Morg pork cutlet for a while now and never had time. I guess I can cook it while you two kids swing swords at each other," she said grinning back. "I might go buy a few things first," she added and went to the door to get her shoes. "I'll be right back."

Mab grabbed his sword and took it out of the scabbard.

"Shall we go to the backyard to train?" Mab said gripping his blade.

"Wow, hold your horses, squire. Get that blade back into her sheath," Todor said getting up."As a matter of fact leave the blades here and come with me," Todor ordered and got up to his feet.

Mab looked at his milky white sword then at Todor, a mix of confusion, annoyance and strange will to obey. He sheathed the weapon back and left it next to Todor's new sword on the table. Todor climbed up the stairs opening the door of the room that he almost never visited thess days. There he kept his old HEMA gear with sword replicas on their mountings on the wall.

"Wow, so many different types of swords. These are all human weapons used in ages past?" Mab exploded with words racing from one sword to the other. "You should show this to uncle Kurt. Wait, if you had so many blades why did you said you need one from uncle Carl?"

"These are replicas, cheap steel not meant for combat. Most of them can't even be sharpened without ruining them," he snorted, "Hell, most of them would shatter after fifteen minutes of heavy sparing."

"So they are just toys? Why have them then?" Mab asked curiously.

"I didn't have money to buy real, battle-worthy weapons back on ... Mother Globe. And after all, it was just a sport. But I liked having this wall pieces," Todor admitted.

"They all look awesome. So, what now. Master?" Mab asked seriously.

"Master? Why master?" Todor chuckled, taken aback.