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“I’m not here to teach you magic, though,” the strange captain muttered as I alternated between staring at her, at Miss Mireia, and at my hand, above which I knew for certain that I could now create a [Fairy Light]. Despite having never once done it, I could confidently utter the word while forming within my mind’s eye the spell shape I had just felt. Nothing but fear of the unknown was stopping me from trying it.
In one move, Sirth had rendered one of my most treasured possessions, the Crown of Light which I used while adventuring, completely useless to me. At the same time, she shattered my long-held faith that spell magic, despite my ability to summon all elements at unusually high strength, was for some reason beyond my grasp.
Then she substituted in its place the unheard-of and inexplicable information that my access to incantations had to come to me through my bonds as a blood mistress, a requirement that I had never heard of before. Certainly, Aunt Elianora, who had striven in vain to teach me her two fortes, Dark magic and Wind magic, had never mentioned it, and one would think she would know about such a method if it worked that way.
So I had to ignore Sirth’s statement for the moment while I continued my struggle to grasp all these revelations.
But my Servant did not. Mireia pointed out, “I thought it was the most important thing?”
“No, that much you two could do yerself,” Sirth answered, shaking her head. “If it were that simple, Rhea would justa told you t’do it. Like I said before, yer mistress picks it up when her Servants cast magic. She only needs to hear the keyword or spell for the magic they’re castin’ at the same time she feels them castin’ it. You coulda just cast a spell in front of her at any time and showed her that much.”
She turned to me and said, “I’m here to have you rehearse yer magic. Nobody here knows what all magic yer capable of, so they can’t coach you through findin’ it again. But I’m different. I know everything about you.”
“How would you know everything?” I demanded.
“Er…” she scratched the back of her head, then told Miss Mireia, “This is where you need t’step up and reassure her, remember? She hasta trust what I’m tellin’ her.”
Mireia frowned and twisted her mouth. “And exactly how am I supposed to do that? She needs to hear a reason for such a claim! Think about it!”
“Eh…” Sirth frowned, then nodded. “Aye, I s’pose that’s true. Or at least, she needs evidence that I’m tellin’ the truth. What to do…”
She looked at me, clapped her hands, grinned and said, “Right! Let’s introduce you to yer uncle!”
“To… whom?” I wondered as her feathers undulated softly and she seemed to concentrate on something.
“Found him!” she declared. “Looks like he’s in yer closet. C’mon!”
She hopped up and led a charge on my bedroom, with a bemused Mireia getting up to follow. Astonished, I scrambled to my feet while crying, “Wait! What do you mean, he’s in my closet?!”
By the time I entered, Sirth had flung the double doors of a floor-standing cabinet wide open– unlike Ostish, the Dorian word for ‘closet’, ‘cabinet’, ‘armoire’ and ‘wardrobe’ are all the same– to reveal my armor and the rest of my gear hung within.
“What in Heaven has been done to my armor?” I demanded while gaping at the alterations, but Sirth ignored me. Instead, she extracted a bastard sword in a well-made scabbard.
“Hello, Old Man!” she greeted it cheerfully. She didn’t draw it, she simply held it in front of herself horizontally, one hand carrying the scabbard and the other carrying the hilt, as she addressed it. “Got someone t’introduce t’you.”
As she turned toward us while smiling down at it, I was wondering if she’d gone insane. But then a masculine voice appeared in my head, not unlike the voices of grizzled veterans among the Royal Knights.
[My Lady?] it asked. [There seems to be more than one of you!]
“Ah, let’s leave that aside for the moment,” Sirth answered with a wry twist of her mouth. “Fan Li and me still remember you just fine, but Lady Tiana is sufferin’ a bout of amnesia.”
[Is that possible?] the voice asked, sounding a bit shocked.
“It’s a special circumstance,” she explained. All this time, she’d been blatantly speaking to the sword.
“Look here! Are you trying to tell me that voice…”
I chopped off as her grin widened even more. The blade did seem to have a spiritual presence of some sort within.
She nodded. “Aye, it’s this fellow here in my hand. Oh, by the way, most people can’t hear him, so those two have no idea that he’s talking. Meet your Uncle Durandal, the Holy Sword.”
Astonished, I glanced at Mireia and at the maids who had followed us into the bedroom. The maids both looked very unsure about the madwoman who had been talking to the sword, so they were in the ‘most people’ category, but Miss Mireia had a sardonic smile.
“It seems my Holy powers are good enough to hear him,” she noted. “Rhea tells me that even most priestesses would not be able to. But your mother could, and I can, as well.”
She looked over her shoulder at the two maids. “Nobody has gone insane here. But keep what you are hearing right now an absolute secret.”
“Yes, My Lady,” they responded in unison.
She looked a little uncomfortable as she turned back toward us, and muttered, “Although I’m not a ‘My Lady’ just yet…”
Sirth answered, “You’ll be, soon enough. As soon as Rod makes yer concubinage official, right? They’re just gettin’ into the habit early.”
I grew annoyed at their easy banter. Did neither of them understand how outlandish was the claim they had made?
“This is a spirit sword?” I asked. “Like in the legends?”
“A Holy sword, Princess,” Sirth corrected. “On account o’ he’s got divinely gifted powers.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline that never came. She had gone straight past legend into the realm of mythology.
Okay, I’m a good girl, properly raised under Temple doctrine. I attended all my temple school classes dutifully. So theoretically I believe in the idea that gods and goddesses have gifted divine weapons to humankind over the years. But the claim that an item from those old stories was currently resting in the hands of this strange sailor woman…
I rested my forehead in my palm for a moment, then nodded and stated, “Fine. For the moment, let’s say that this is true. Why in Heaven’s name would you claim such a thing is my uncle?”
“Er…” Sirth went to a one-handed grip on the scabbard so she could scratch the back of her head again. “Well, on account o’ yer mum’s mum created him, with some help from the Big Three. Y’know, the top gods.”
“My mother’s mother?” I asked, baffled. Yes, I imagined such a person must have existed at some point, but…
“We told you about her the other day,” Miss Mireia stated. “Lâra, the other of the two patron spirits of this land.”
I remembered the two spirits stylistically rendered on my wedding dress, on the long drapes of my sleeves. One had been Deharè– presumably Mother– and the other had been a spirit I had never heard of. Although that was certainly the name they had used.
“They’re mother and daughter,” I posited.
“Exactly,” Sirth nodded. “Although I’m not quite sure how Lâra ended up patron of Pendor. She was originally a demigoddess in the country that existed before Oste, way up in Atianus. Seems a little far from here.”
“My grandmother was a demigoddess,” I echoed with a flat tone, wondering if this woman was pulling my leg.
“Well yeah. Although you should say ‘is’, since she’s still alive. Yer gramp’s a demigod, too, since he’s a son of Oranos. Yer gran’s mum is Eurybia.”
[She’s telling you the truth, My Lady,] the voice noted. [Your mother is indeed my younger sister, and our mutual mother is the Lady of the Lake, Lâra. And the Fairy King’s father is Oranos, so you have two gods as great-grandparents. Captain, perhaps she would feel the connection to me more clearly if she held me.]
Sirth nodded and held the sword out toward me. I confess to hesitating for a moment, since my hands were bare, but I accepted it, taking care not to touch the hilt. I had noticed that the grip appeared to have no leather, only a beautifully fine textured metal surface. Only dwarves and elves make grips without organic wraps.
Noticing my concern, the captain grinned. “You can touch it, Princess. It’s Svartálfar steel, perfectly immune t’ fairy influence.”
[Go right ahead, My Lady,] the voice agreed.
Deciding to believe them, I drew it. It was a well-maintained blade, in far better condition than anything old enough to hail from the time of myth and legend had any right to be. Although I knew, if it were truly a Holy sword, it would have had supernatural help surviving all these years.
[It’s been a while, My Lady,] the voice stated, cheerfully. [And congratulations, both on the marriage and the children.]
I had to admit that the voice felt somehow slightly more immediate now that I held the weapon, and I could now feel the spiritual presence within the blade clearly, that seemed somehow to resonate within me.
Sheathing the weapon once more, I asked it, “Your name is Durandal?”
[It is, indeed, My Lady,] it replied in an amiable tone. [Although you usually just call me ‘Old Man’. Feel free to continue.]
I stared down at the scabbard and blade in my hand. I had to admit, the weight of it felt terribly familiar. For a moment, I could remember gripping it while fighting an awesome battle, battling a fairy warrior while wielding a level of power that I could only call ‘divine’. Certainly, I had never used powers so awesome.
Was it a real memory? I hesitated to admit that much, but I at least had to admit the sword itself was real, and apparently sentient.
“Was this blade responsible for killing that dragon?” I wondered.
“Nah,” Sirth shook her head. “That happened before you found him.”
“And how did I find him?”
“Kiki led you to him,” she said. “He was lost underground in the ancient city of Oste. Oh yeah, you should get Miss Mireia to teach you [Purification] soon. Although we gotta be careful how you use it, for the babies’ sake.”
She probably had a logical reason to make such a random statement, but I already knew such magic would not be good for me or the babies, so I put it aside for now.
“I’ll make a better acquaintance with you later,” I promised, while placing it back into the cabinet. “For now, I have to sort a few things out.”
[You’re right, My Lady,] the sword agreed. [Future adventures should wait for my grand-nieces to be born.]
I cleared my throat and gave a mild smile. That hadn’t been what I meant, but it was certainly true as well. But really, I had to convince myself I was not hallucinating, regardless of how Miss Mireia and Captain Sirth seemed to also be hearing the voice.
As I closed the cabinet doors, reminding myself to ask later about why in Heaven so much of my armor appeared to have gone missing, I thought carefully, then cautiously addressed the strange sailor woman.
“You implied earlier that this was simply one of many things I needed to learn about. So there’s more?”
“Aye, that there is,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head once again and grinning. “Quite a bit more. But while we’re on the subject of reacquaintin’ you with those you know, we have one more I can introduce you to, right now.”
Almost afraid to ask, I said, “Somebody… here?”
“She is, indeed,” she confirmed with a chuckle. “Touch that stone yer wearin’ as a pendant and use yer [Fairy Sense] on it.”
Since waking up with memory loss, I had been wearing two unusual pendants at all times, except when keeping them at my bedside while I slept. It seems that, before I lost my memories, I had instructed my maids to always incorporate both into my outfit, so they had been making sure I wore them. According to Miss Mireia, Gaia was monitoring the health of my babies through one, but the other, the only one I would describe as a ‘stone’, was a mystery to us.
When I did as she asked, I felt the presence under my fingertips of something inside, not unlike the presence within the sword.
“It’s a spirit stone?” I guessed.
“Say ‘Lucy, Come out’,” Sirth directed.
I then learned that my surprises were only beginning.
