Chapter 21

Flint’s skin crawled as he ventured below the building. Something felt off about the air. He couldn’t tell whether it was years of stale air or he needed to worry about sinister entities. Mushrooms grew out of cracks below the stairs. Given the rubble untidily piled around them, Flint guessed there used to be many more of them. Percy hadn’t excavated so much as ripped a path into the lower levels.

As he crept through the basement, carefully avoiding areas that looked unstable, Flint looked back on his interactions with Percy and Mr Mayor. There was no reason for the latter of the two to treat him with hostility. Perhaps an individual with a life quest made him worry that Flint had come for something valuable or powerful hidden within the village. The more he thought about it, the surer he became.

They see a classer as a sign of dark days on the horizon.

It made sense. Flint’s presence and attempts at repairing the fort would draw attention. They likely worried that if a scouting party found him, they’d believe something more was at play. If there were indeed something worth finding and protecting in Lea’s Slumber, the village would be in jeopardy. Flint had no intention of picking up an artifact or using it himself. He believed it was likely in store for the Champion of Equilibrium. However, knowledge of such an existence would help guide his decisions.

Percy appeared to have adopted Flint’s methods of digging using [Shape]. His methods weren’t as precise or clean, but he had made more progress than anyone could be using standard tools. [Builder’s Brawn] had its limits—unless he had a specialisation Flint had never encountered before. Deeper in the structure, things got tidier. Not because Percy had given up his messy ways, but because the tunnels and halls were intact and hadn’t collapsed.

The surrounding support structure suggested the area was built to hold and keep something secure. Metal lined the pillars, and time hadn’t corroded either of them. It meant magic, alchemy, or a rank-eight builder had worked their influence on the structure. Several solid doors lined the walls, and fresh scratches marked them all. Flint spotted a variety of digging tools lying on the floor. They all had glowing runes covering them, but most had suffered damage.

Out of curiosity, Flint tried shaping one of the doors using [Shape]. The ability sapped his energy but failed to make any changes. Percy hadn’t made much headway either. One by one, Flint checked all the doors. They all gave him the same result. Then he spotted something Percy had missed. The old builder had left wax-paper wrappers and his belongs littered all over the place, except the room’s centre where a grand carving sat on the floor.

Time had faded most of it, but Flint could tell it was of a woman lying on the ground with her eyes closed. She held a sword over her breast, pointing towards the floor. Flint knelt on the stone and ran his fingers along the ancient artwork, admiring the craftsman’s skills. A sudden shock made him jerk away.

“Hello.”

Flint jumped onto his feet and looked around the room. His hands shot to the crossbow at his side. Maya and Bjorn had helped him recover his bolts, but they weren’t enough in case a monster attacked. He saw no one. Flint was sure he had heard a sultry, feminine voice, but no matter how much he scanned his surroundings, he failed to find the voice’s owner.

After a deep inhale and exhale, he turned his attention back to the carving. Flint realised the shock wasn’t a physical one. It was his empathic sense. Something had reached out to him. When he knelt and touched the stone again, something below him clicked. The carving parted to reveal a set of stairs leading into the darkness.

Several minutes passed as Flint waited for the voice to speak to him again, but nothing came. After taking a moment to wonder whether it was his imagination, he started his trek into the darkness. A good shake brightened the glass vial’s contents. Twylip deserved a thanks for the gift. If not for it, Flint wouldn’t have made the discovery.

The carving above and the runes covering the wall suggested that Flint had stumbled into the tomb of someone ancient and powerful. He half expected to find the great hero Lea’s coffin. Instead, Flint found himself face to face with a sword in a stone. The weapon’s design and polish were enough to suggest that he had stumbled upon no ordinary blade. Cobwebs covered the basements above, and dust coated everything. However, the sword and an arm’s length circle around it were spotless.

“Hello.”

Flint didn’t have to look around to know it was the sword speaking. Even though Flint never had a history lesson, and no one told him bedtime stories, he knew most legends featured weapons of incredible power. The tales spoke of them cutting through plate armour like butter and could slay the mightiest of enemies. Given what some builders could do, Flint was inclined to believe such tales. However, he always thought the stories of talking weapons were a step too far.

“Hello.”

“Is that all you can say?” Flint asked, chuckling. He carefully approached the weapon to have a look. Emerald vines decorated the black hilt, and golden ruins ran along the blade. “You’re a pretty little weapon.”

A sudden urge to touch the pommel overcame Flint. Even though he despised swords and had no intention of touching the village’s hidden treasure, he gave in to the urge. The world around Flint transformed as soon as he made contact. The rune-covered walls fell away to show him the same scenes he had seen during his fever dreams.

Flint stood up the fort’s outer walls while fae and human arms marched towards them. The flying woman pointed her right hand at him, and fire once again rained on the fort. This time, Flint had no control over his body. He saw himself draw the sword from his belt and hold it with both hands high above his head. White light pulsed from the weapon, extinguishing the flames and turning them into giant stones. Instead of continuing their flight towards the fort, they fell on the enemy troops, crushing dozens at a time.

The vision shifted to show Flint facing the moon mage. She showered him with her bolts of light. Flint didn’t budge. The projectiles dissipated a swords-length from him. The moon mage’s eyes widened, the remaining bolts collected behind her and dissolved to form white wings. She flapped them, taking to the sky. Another white pulse emanated from Flint, and her wings melted away. She dropped to the ground and looked at him with fear.

Flint shook his head, pulling himself back to reality. He felt every hair on his neck, back, and arms standing on end. The sword had made its power clear to him. It carried the ability to nullify fae magic.

“No.”

The Iron Army had faltered too. He recalled seeing countless men and women recoil at the pulse and falter. Flint wasn’t sure how he knew it, but the weapon had the power to interfere with abilities born of skill stones too. The hero Lea must’ve used the sword to force the war to a standstill and then convinced both sides to sign a treaty.

“No wonder the fae were sneaking past the Iron Army’s defensive lines,” Flint whispered. “They’re looking for you.”

Flint felt powerful as he wrapped his fingers around the sword’s hilt. It was heavy but budged when he pulled. Then an uncomfortable feeling pulsed through him. It was like the shock from before but duller. Flint froze. The feminine voice didn’t speak to him, but he could feel a warming embrace in his arms. Invisible fingers slid through his hair, and soft lips parted his.

“No!” Flint said, pulling away from the sword. His heart thumped in his chest as realisation hit. It was his empathic sense. Something was clawing at his mind and trying to influence his decision. Flint refused to be robbed of his will and backpedalled. “Power comes at a cost. If it’s my mind that you want, you can’t have it.”

“Hello?” The words sounded desperate instead of sultry. Flint felt hunger and lust through his empathic as the swords’ runes glowed with the same light as the sun. His palm’s itched, and it felt like only the soft wrappings around the hilt could soothe it, but he knew better. Flint turned his back and ran up the stairs. He traced his fingers along with the carving until he found the tiny runed-dimple he had pressed and activated the mechanism. It responded to his touch, and the floor closed, returning to its old untouched state.

As Flint sprinted through the basement, he made up his mind. Until he identified the Champion of Equilibrium, no one could know about the sword’s existence or location. The weapon had tried to seduce him. It would probably try to do the same to others. If they gave in, there was no telling what it would compel them to do. At the same time, if the fae found out its location, they’d send entire legions looking for it. Flint needed to keep it hidden and secret until the Champion was ready to rise.

No more wasting time. The wall needs completion, and I need to secure this place.

It was a good thing Twylip had returned to her room. Flint was sure that if she saw her now, she’d know something was wrong. It was for the best if he played the fool. During their walk uphill, the pair had agreed on a story. If anyone asked, Twylip would claim Flint had walked her home and made a pass. She’d let him down quickly and after a chat before sending him on his way.

Before returning to the camp, Flint ventured through the ground floor, looking for the exit which led to the village below. It didn’t take him long to find it. Unlike the route leading up to the fort, the path through it was straight. His jaw dropped when he got a good look at Lea’s Village.

Flint guessed the villagers hadn’t given the Iron Army access to their village. Lea’s Slumber probably kept them satiated with regular shipments of supplies. He was sure that if the Iron Council found out what the villagers really had, they’d repair the fort and take control of the settlement. The council would claim their actions were to unify the lands and prevent the worship of false idols. In reality, they wouldn’t want to lose control of such expansive resources.

Lea’s Slumber was no village. In fact, Flint believed it was larger than most towns he’d seen. The Gator Tooth mountains surrounded the almond-shaped clearing, creating an almost impenetrable wall. Fields of varying crops surrounded the settlement’s stone walls, and he spotted an expansive orchard in the far corner too. Several bodies of water came down from the mountains and cut through the area. Most of them disappeared under or around the fort.

Golden and orange lights glowed within and outside the walls, highlighting grand halls, cottages and workshops. Beyond the tamed lands, giant trees grew out of the ground, creating a barrier of foliage. Flint guessed fauna filled them too, giving the villagers plenty to hunt. He could see a couple of fields in the distance with grazing cattle. [Keen Eye] struggled to determine their race, but Flint saw enough. The village had natural defences and enough resources to rely on no one but themselves. They probably had the means not only to supply themselves all year round but the fort and anyone that chose to live on the slope between the inner and outer walls.

Twylip’s vile shone like a beacon in the darkness. Unwilling to get spotted by someone out for a late-night stroll, Flint slipped through the fort and started his journey downhill. He was almost back at the shelter when Maya’s howl sounded in the distance.