The Blade in the Storm
Rain was bashing harshly on the dirty window of the hut. A small crack in the window allowed the water to dribble through slowly. The only light came from a small lantern on top of a large stack of books. In the corner opposite the window stood a wood fire, with a pot of onion soup placed neatly on top. A powerful knock on the shabby wooden door echoed through the hut.
“Favian, wake up, we need you out here.” said a voice outside the door.
Favian was a tall bulky boy, with long blonde hair flowing down just below his shoulders.
“What? Oh right yes, give me a second please Sigrid, I just need to find my boots.”
Favian quickly hopped up from the worn-down bed he was just lying on. He dashed around the house picking up anything he might need, including his father’s sword. He inherited it when his parents died in the Battle of Beratium. The blade was nearly a metre long, with deep green gems implanted inside the brass grip. In the centre of the pommel lay a small chunk of Eskium, the most prized element.
Favian swung the door open so fast it nearly flew off its hinges. Outside, the rain was pouring, turning the ground into a swamp. In the distance, blue sky was flowing over the tree tops. He glanced around but the village seemed deserted. Suddenly a hand grabbed his left arm and dragged him away from his hut.
“Favian, a troll had breached the main gate, it’s all hands on deck until we can slay it,” said Sigrid.
Sigrid was a beautiful young girl, similar in age to Favian. Her long brown hair smelled like fresh flowers from the nearby forests.
“A-a troll. There hasn’t been a sighting of one in years,” Favian replied.
Favian ran through the soaked fields beside the village towards the main gate. Standing in a small pile of rubble was a towering beast. Its fists were like boulders and its head was scarred and bruised. It held a wooden club in its left hand, capable of killing anyone that got in its way.
The entire village had surrounded it, each person with a sword, spear or bow in their hands. The troll’s back was covered in arrows, with the occasional sword jabbed deep into its flesh.
“STAND BACK!”
A huge boulder came hurtling from behind Favian. It collided with the crooked nose of the troll and shattered on impact. The village fell quiet, the only sound being the rain gently pouring onto the muddy pathway. The troll dropped to one knee, slowly raising its free hand towards his face. The troll poked his bloody nose with its index finger and yelped out in pain.
“Finish it while it’s down!” the chief screamed.
The entire village charged the injured troll, screaming and brandishing swords. Arrows rained overhead and found their mark on the troll’s face. It let out a bloodcurdling roar. Once again the whole village fell silent, the only sound being the ravens fleeing and the rustling of the deciduous trees. The sky above turned from a deep grey to an even deeper purple. The rain came to a sudden stop and the whole village looked upwards. The air started to turn rotten, and the stench of decay was almost unbearable. In the shadows of the forest, multiple creatures, of varying heights emerged. As they approached, the stench got worse, the creatures slowly grew bigger and bigger in front of Favian’s eyes. Their skin was dark grey, each one wearing a full-face helmet, with menacing spiked atop. Their face was long with massive teeth showing. Swords the size of small trees were being dragged on the ground behind them. Favian knew at once what they were. They were Draugar
Draugar were fierce undead creatures. They were only ever seen in the north and in small hordes of six or seven. Favian almost forgot about the troll, but when he turned, he saw it barreling down the hill, away from the village. Favian turned back to face the Draugar. There were at least two dozen, slowly advancing on the villagers. They let out deep, raspy noises. Favian knew that they could kill humans just by looking at them and cursing them with bad luck. The sky above was still churning deep purple as if it were alive. In the distance, over the Hills of Nerviah, thunderstorms started to roll in. Bright white forks lightning struck the ground every few seconds, each one followed by a clap of thunder.
“Thor must be angry,” Favian thought.
As if the god of thunder was listening, a powerful lightning bolt struck a massive oak tree at the edge of the forest. The tree splintered into hundreds of pieces. Luckily it didn’t catch fire as it was raining moments before. Two Draugar were standing close by and got electrocuted, each one collapsing to their knees, before faceplanting in the muddy pathway. More lightning bolts hammered into the earth, missing villagers by the skin of their teeth.
By now, the catapult had been turned around, directly facing the hoard of Draugar. A large projectile had been loaded and set alight. Arrows had been loaded into bows, and swords ready in hand. As the flaming projectile left the catapult, it slammed into a group of three Draugar, who were advancing on the blacksmith’s hut.
Favian held his father’s sword in his hands and slowly crept towards a single beast much smaller than the rest. As Favian got closer, he saw how disgusting the Draugr was. Favian swung his sword wildly in the general direction of the entity. His blade connected with its armour but did very little damage. Right before Favian’s eyes, the Draugr started to grow, its body changing shape and hands reaching to the ground. In the blink of an eye, a great flayed bull stood before him, its flesh dark and skinless. The bull reared up on its hind legs and charged Favian, who jumped out of the way, crashing into a mound of hay. As Favian was struggling to get up, the bull turned around and faced Favian, its eyes as dark as death itself. Then it charged.
Favian closed his eyes, waiting to be impaled by its rotting horns, but nothing happened. When he opened his eyes, the bull was on the ground, ropes around its horns and a silver sword driven into its skull.
“Get up Favian!” Sigrid was beside him now, pulling him up by the arm.
The chief came racing across the muddy village path stopping face to face with Favian. His green eyes stared deep into Favian’s soul. “Your sword boy. I need your sword!”
“What, why?”
“Your father’s sword has power, we need it to kill them”
The chief bent down and picked up the blade by the hilt. He brushed off the mud in his deep blue tunic. He strode over to the bull, seemingly lifeless in the mud. He drove Favian’s sword into its skull, right beside the silver one. He yanked it out and ran towards the blacksmith’s hut, where the three Draugar that were hit earlier, were regaining their footing. He swung the sword with extreme accuracy, decapitating all three at one. Favian watched as they slowly started to turn purple, the same colour as the sky, and disintegrated into a pile of grey dust.
The chief went on a rampage, slashing and stabbing the Draugar. Each one turned into a pile of dust until there was only one left. It was nearly twice the height of the chief. He swung the sword, but the beast parried easily, before slapping the chief with the flat of his blade. The power of the swing sent the chief flying, before slamming into a hut. The entire village fell eerily quiet. The Draugr slowly shrunk to match the size of the crowd. It slowly started to approach the chief, who was groaning in pain in the mud. The beast stood above him, raising his giant blade to finish him off.
Favian moved without thinking, he slid across the muddy ground and snatched up his sword. In one fluid motion, he stood up and flung the sword full force at the Draugr. The blade hit its mark between the shoulder blades of the creature. It crumpled to the ground and turned into another pile of dust to be picked up by the breeze. The entire village was now staring at Favian. Sigrid stood beside him and gave him a pat on the back, before rushing to the chief aid.
“Is he going to be alright?” Favian asked.
“Yes … I think so,” Sigrid said, pleased with herself.
“Thank the go—” Favian froze. He felt something warm running down his chest. As he looked down, a black sword retracted from his back. Favian collapsed to his knees.
“Favian!” Sigrid screamed.
A beast the size of a wolf stood behind Favian. It slowly grew to tower over the village. The Draugr kicked Favian in the back, sending him face-first into the mud. It raised its sword and drove it down into Favian. He picked up the lifeless body and flung it into the woods. The only noise in the village was Sigrid’s low whimpers. The beast’s form shifted again, this time into a grey horse with a broken back with no ears or tail. It turned to gallop off into the forest but collapsed before it got there. The chief stood clutching his side with his left hand, and his right hand extender outward. As the horse turned into dust, Favian’s sword splashed into the mud, disappearing in a puddle of murky water.
