The Sword Collector: Ice and Flame

The two monks were making their way to the cellar down an eerie, cold staircase of white cobblestone. The one leading the way with a bronze candle holder, with the candle already lit, was a young border collie in brown robes. The one following was an old white goat in black robes.

“So, how did you find this tomb, Brother Henry?” The goat asked as he stroked his long, thin beard. He has lived in Northern Star Monastery for a long time now, and yet he has never once heard or read about secret or hidden tombs in the monastery.

“I was in the cellar, getting more coal to fight off this winter’s day, Father Matthew. The light from my candle suddenly went out, and I tripped in the darkness. I landed with my back against the wall, and the wall collapsed with me on top.” As Brother Henry said this, he used his free hand to rub his still-aching back. “After I got up and relit my candle, I saw that the wall opened to a small room with a stone coffin inside. I must admit curiosity got the better of me. I removed the lid and peeked inside.” Brother Henry explained himself as they reached the bottom of the staircase and entered the cellar.

Father Matthew shook his head disapprovingly. Brother Henry should have come to him straight away, instead of meddling with the coffin. All well, Father Matthew thought to himself, what was done was done.

“Who did you find?” Father Matthew asked, interested in who was buried in the tomb.

“See for yourself, Father.” The young monk gestures to the broken wall with his candle.

The tomb on the other side was made of flat, smooth stone for its walls, and its floor was dirt. The shattered pieces of the cobblestone had already been removed. In the centre of the tomb was the stone coffin. Surrounding it were lit candle holders and lanterns, held by other monks.

While looking for Father Matthew, Brother Henry told his friend of his discovery. From there, word spread like wildfire, and every monk had to investigate this finding. There was much chatter amongst them, but everything went silent when they saw Father Matthew entering. All at once, they departed from the coffin, allowing the father to look inside.

Inside the stone coffin were the skeletal remains of what appears to be a feline. On top of his chest, with his hands placed over the hilt, is a two-handed sword made from polished obsidian. By his feet is a black wooden box with strange, curvy runes engraved on it. The runes appear to have a faint, blue glow.

“Surely this can’t be.” Father Matthew said with his jaw wide open. “Saint Zebald?”

“The patron saint of fire and the ender to the Ice Wars.” One of the monks added. “Brother Henry found his lost tomb.”

“That means the sword must be Mountain’s Flame.” Another monk said. The tomb became lively with the sounds of excited chatter. It’s not every day you find a lost tomb of a saint, as well as a holy relic.

“Brothers!” Father Matthew shouted. His booming voice got their attention, and the tomb went silent again. “I understand that we stumbled upon a holy site, and the excitement is overwhelming, but we cannot jump to conclusions.” Father Matthew continued. “Although it does appear to be the resting place of Saint Zebald, we cannot say for certain. Until we have confirmation from experts, nobody touches anything, especially the box.”

At the same time as Father Matthew, the monks looked at the black box in the coffin. The excitement in the air died, and in its place was a tense uneasiness.

“If this is truly Saint Zebald’s tomb, then that box must not be destroyed, unless we want to unleash an apocalypse of snow and ice.” Father Matthew said soberly.

“Now, before I report this to the church, I need professionals to confirm the authenticity of this tomb. Can anyone point me in the direction to find any archaeologists?” Father Matthew asked. He looked at his fellow monks and saw their heads gently shaking.

“I know someone who can help confirm the sword's authenticity,” a voice outside the tomb said. Father Matthew turned to see the most recent guest to the monastery standing near the staircase.

~Five days later~

In the northwest mountains of Everlends, Joan was lying on top of the snowy ground, watching silently from under the branches of a bush. She’s dressed in her usual adventurer’s outfit, but adapted for the cold environment. The outfit consists of a brown jacket (unlike her other ones, this one features a wool lining to ward off the cold), a yellow long-sleeved shirt, thick brown gloves, dark blue snow pants, and leather boots (similar to the jacket, these boots are designed for winter terrain). Hanging from her belt in scabbards are her two leaf-bladed swords with silver coatings. One of them is a short sword, while the other is a bastard sword. Over her shoulders is her satchel, full to the brim of her gear.

Not too far from her hiding place, there is not just one vulpis, but a family of vulpes: a father, a mother, and their two cubs. A vulpis is a fox-like animal and might be considered a distant relative of Joan, evolutionarily speaking. They come in different colours depending on their species. The ones that Joan encountered are in colours similar to her own—dark blueish grey and white with orange tips.

The father was play-fighting with their pups, preparing them for adulthood when they would have to fight their own battles. The mother, on the other hand, was keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, making sure that no threat went unnoticed.

Watching the family of vulpes stirred up old feelings and emotions within Joan. Something that she thought she had buried deep down, a long time ago. She also felt a strange sort of envy towards them, especially towards the pups. For as long as she could remember, she always wanted…

“Joan!?” The loud voice of Joan’s guide called out. “Where are you, Joan?!”

His voice not only woke Joan out of her thoughts but also startled animals. As quickly as their four legs could, they went off running. With a groan, Joan got up from her spot and dusted the snow off herself.

“I’m here, Marvin!” Joan called out, and it wasn’t long before her guide found her.

Marvin is a middle-aged white goat with years of wilderness experience under his belt. He’s dressed for the winter, sporting a woolly hat with ear flaps, a thick brown jacket, a red flannel shirt underneath, grey woolly gloves, blue snow pants, and heavy-duty snow boots. On his shoulders is a large hiking pack, and hanging from the side of it is his hunting rifle for predators, whether they be animals or people. He’s not a man of violence. However, he still understands the rules of the wild very clearly. It’s kill or be killed.

“Please, do not walk off. You can easily get lost in these mountains.” Marvin had never once lost anyone on the job before and wasn’t planning on doing so now.

“Alright then,” Joan said, trying to hide her disagreement in her voice. If it weren’t for Ida's constant nagging about needing someone to guide her to places during her work, Joan would have soloed the journey up the mountains.

“Thank you, Joan. Now, let’s get back on track.” And with that, Marvin leads the way, following a path only he can see through his mind. This time, he made a habit of looking over his shoulder to ensure that Joan was following. “Why did you walk off?” He asked.

“I thought I saw something and went to check it out. It was nothing.” Joan lied. She didn’t want to go into her past with someone she had just met the other day, but she did have a question in her mind. “Do you really think the Davdruhin gods separated us from the animals and reformed us in their image so that we would be their children?”

Marvin, taken aback by her sudden religious question, took a moment to respond. “Well, I don’t think the gods reformed us literally.”

“Really? How so?” Joan asked while tilting her head to the side.

“I believe the verses in the Sacred Book about us being reformed were meant to be taken metaphorically. What I believe actually happened is that we evolved from ancestors similar to animals over many years. But yes, I guess so.” After explaining, Marvin turns his eyes to Joan. “I didn’t think you were all that religious.”

“I don’t see eye-to-eye with the gods,” Joan replied. “Anyway, I think it’s awesome that we can look back at these animals to see just how far we've come. It’s almost like taking a glimpse back to see what we could have been in the past.” Joan continued.

“Not unless your ancestors are similar to the animals used for meat.” Marvin said in a playful counter. This made Joan realise why the cow waitress had given her a dirty look when she ordered the cheeseburger the other day.

“So, if you’re having problems with the gods, why do you want to go to the Northern Star Monastery?” Marvin asked. Almost every person he took to the monastery was either a pilgrim or a delivery person, and Joan did not resemble either.

“The monks there stumbled upon a hidden tomb behind their cellar wall,” Joan said, her voice giving away her excitement. “They suspect the tomb to be Saint Zebald’s. One of the monks called, asking me to come and appraise the saint’s sword, Mountain’s Flame. To make sure that it isn’t a replica.”

Marvin’s ears perked up with interest. “You must be some sort of sword expert then?”

“Oh, I’m more than just that. I’m the Sword Collector.” Joan said, her face shone with pride.

“The Sword Collector?” Marvin gave the name some thought before shaking his head. “Never heard of you, sorry.”

Joan’s smile of pride turned into a frown of disappointment. “I guessed that my fame hasn’t reached the edges of Everlends yet.” She thought quietly to herself.

“So, what is this Mountain’s Flame?” Marvin asked. He wasn't particularly interested in swords, but he was all ears for a good story to pass the time, and he felt that there was definitely one behind a name like that.

“It’s a two-handed sword made from obsidian,” Joan’s tail wagged. She loves talking about swords, especially special ones like Mountain’s Flame. “I wish I could have found it first. It would be perfect for my collection.”

“I see.” Marvin chuckled. “So, it’s made out of obsidian? Isn’t it fragile?” The goat asked.

“Oh, yes; however, Mountain’s Flame has an enchantment to withstand breaking. As well as an enchantment to flex. Oh! It also has an enchantment to alight itself on fire!” Joan explained while visualising herself wielding the sword.

“Who needs a fire starter with a sword like that?” Marvin chuckled at his joke. “Now, who’s this Zebald saint?” He then asked, curious about how a saint, a person close to holiness, has a sword.

Joan grinned as she began to lore dump. “Zebald was the owner of Mountain’s Flame and the patron saint of fire. Years ago, Lilraith the frost demon forged herself a staff that could transform ice into creatures called splicelings. She created an army of splicelings and intended to take over the world, thus starting the Ice Wars. A year into the war, the gods called Zebald to stop her. To help him, they gifted him with Mountain’s Flame. With Mountain’s Flame, he trapped Lilraith inside a blessed wooden box.”

“Why didn’t he kill her instead of trapping her?” Marvin asked.

Joan paused to ponder this question, thinking Marvin had a good point. “I’m not too sure, maybe he didn’t want to kill her for some reason?” Joan then shrugged and continued with the story. “Anyway, after the war, Zebald was sanctified and lived the rest of his life as a monk.”

A thought popped into Joan’s mind, making her chuckle. “Wouldn’t it be funny if, by some freak accident, those monks broke the box and unleashed an ancient snow demon onto Everlends?”

Marvin gave her an anxious look. He did not like that type of thinking, not one bit. “I think you have a weird sense of humour, and I hope you didn’t jinx it.” He said, trying not to think too much about it.

“Oh, please, those monks would be extra careful in that tomb since they believe it belongs to a saint,” Joan said as she playfully waved his concern off, thinking he was overworrying. “Anyways, how far are we from the monastery?”

Upon being asked, he pulled out his map and did some mental calculations. Once he got his answer, he replied to Joan, “More or less than an hour.” As he said that, he put his map away.

“Great, more hiking.” Joan couldn’t help but groan. It wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t trudging through snow almost up to her knees. As well as the cold wind biting at her. “I hope they have good Wi-Fi up there at least,” Joan added.

“Oh, they don’t have Wi-Fi or any phone signal up there. Other than their landlines, I don’t think they have any technology at all.” Marvin said as he led the way up the snowy mountain.

“Really? Why is it that my phone always becomes useless whenever I go on these trips?” Joan swears that every time she goes on her adventures, her phone can’t fulfil its intended purpose: making calls or sending texts.

“Maybe the gods don’t want you to have it that easy?” Marvin said, trying to lighten the mood. Unbeknownst to him, it just made Joan angrier at the gods.

Over half an hour into their climb, they unexpectedly encountered a snowstorm. It started lightly but worsened as they got closer to Northern Star Monastery. As soon as they reached the top of the mountains, they could see a valley below them. In the valley's centre is a large frozen lake, where the monastery stands on an island. But that’s not the only thing that they noticed. Dark formations of clouds hovered above the monastery, and it seemed that the snowstorm was emanating from them.

Marvin felt a great pit in his stomach; he knew something was wrong. Never before had he encountered such terrible weather in his many visits to the monastery. Also, the dark clouds above the monastery were something completely new and foreign to him.

“I think we should turn back and come back another day,” Marvin suggested as he pulled his jacket close to his body, trying to conserve warmth.

“Hell no!” Joan said as she began her way down the valley. She wasn’t going to let some snowstorm stop her. “I didn’t come all this way to turn back now! Also, it’s going to be warm in there!”

Marvin wanted to argue back, but realised that Joan might have a point. If the snowstorm spreads and becomes a blizzard, they might get stuck in it and freeze to death on the way back to civilisation.

As soon as they reached the valley's bottom, they carefully walked across the slippery surface of the lake. Thankfully, their footwear had great traction, making it easy for them not to fall. After reaching the island's shore, they hiked up a small hill, passing leafless trees and boulders. It wasn’t even a small hike before they reached the monastery.

The monastery almost resembles a fortress with its four towers built onto each corner. The monastery and its towers have domed roofs of red tiles, and its walls are white cobblestone. A great greenhouse at the back of the monastery houses all of their herbs and vegetables. The towers and monastery have glass-stained windows that reflect vibrant colours. At the front of the monastery is a massive, circular, glass-stained window above the great wooden door. On the window is the symbol of Davdruhin, the religion to which the monastery belongs. The emblem resembles a circle on top of three lines. The lines on the sides curve slightly outwards while the line in the middle is straight. The symbol represents the unity of the three gods as one, with the gods represented by the lines and the unity being symbolised by the circle. On the other side of the island is a dock house that shelters their small rowing boats. It is their only transportation to and from the island when the lake isn’t frozen.

Joan and Marvin made their way to the heavy front doors, which they opened with a big heave. They did not want to knock and wait for a response. As soon as they got inside, they quickly slammed the door behind themselves, keeping the snowstorm outside.

“So much for being warm,” Joan complained as she shivered. The temperature of the monastery wasn’t any better inside than out. “You would think they would have someone at the door for us, too?” Joan said as she dusted the snow off her shoulders. She thought that it was rude that nobody was at the door to help them open it.

Marvin looked around at his surroundings and recognised the familiar sight of the abbey church section of the monastery. It is very long, with rows of pews and a pulpit at the back. Like at the front, there’s a circular glass-stained window on the back wall.

Marvin’s ears twitched, and his eyes darted. He knew that something was wrong. It wasn’t just cold; it was silent—too silent. He turned to Joan, wanting to express his uneasiness, when he saw something behind her that almost made him scream.

“What?” Joan asked, her eyebrow raised at him, noticing his frightened expression.

“Joan, they did have someone at the door.” Marvin whimpered as he pointed with a shaking finger.

Joan turned around to see a border collie monk in brown robes huddled up in the corner. However, he wasn’t moving. His complexion has a dark blue tint, and his body is covered in a thick layer of frost. On his chest was a stab wound, and it appears that the frost that covers his body was spreading out from it. It was as if the frost came from within the body and spilled out from the opening of the wound. He has his arm outstretched, and in his hand he carries a medallion with the Davdruhin emblem engraved on it. In his other arm, he clutches a Sacred Book.

After seeing the dead body, they suddenly noticed three more dead monks. One of the monks could be seen sitting at one of the pews with his head slung back. The other had fallen between the pews, and only his arm could be seen because it was sticking out into the aisle. The last was behind the pulpit, one hand over a Sacred Book, and the other firmly grasped a wooden pole with the symbol of Davdruhin, which was made of gold and attached to the top. They all looked like the first, frozen with a thick layer of frost that spread out from wounds.

“Damn,” Joan said as she put her hands on her hips. “You would think they would install a heater sooner?” Joan said while playfully nudging Marvin, trying to make light of the situation.

Marvin turned his head to her, his face full of shocked disgust. “Joan, you shouldn’t make jokes about these things! There are dead people here!” Marvin couldn’t believe that Joan would make a joke like that as soon as she saw the bodies.

Joan shrugged. “When you see one dead person, you’ve seen them all.” After saying that, she thought it must have come out colder than intended. All because Marvin’s expression turned into a stern glare. She could tell that Marvin felt that she was being insensitive to the deceased. And she would be correct.

“I’m sorry.” Joan sighed while rubbing the back of her neck. “What I mean is that I’ve seen so many dead bodies that I had to train myself not to think of them. Making jokes is just one of my ways of helping me cope. I guess I’ve become a bit too desensitised.” Joan explained to Marvin, hoping that he would at least understand.

After hearing Joan’s explanation, Marvin nodded in approval. He doesn’t know much about her at this point, but he understands where she’s coming from. “It’s alright, just keep those sorts of jokes and comments to yourself next time.” Upon saying that, a question popped into his mind. “Have you killed anyone before?”

“I haven’t killed anyone who hasn’t tried to kill me first,” Joan responded, trying not to think too much about it. From her answer, Marvin felt confident that Joan could hold her own in dangerous situations and that her swords weren’t just for show. He felt that she would have his back when the going gets tough.

“Anyway,” Joan continued, and as she did, she tapped her nose. “I suspect that the rest of the monks in the monastery are also dead, or else why would they leave the bodies out here?”

“I suppose so. It is awfully quiet,” Marvin said, recalling the times when he was here. He remembers the chants and prayers of the monks echoing through the building. They were quiet, but silent.

“What do you think killed them? I don’t think it’s the cold. They always kept the monastery warm whenever I was here. Even on the oldest of winter days.” Marvin said while trying not to look at the bodies or think about what had happened to them. He wasn’t awfully close to the monks, but being in a place full of frozen corpses was still very unpleasant, especially if whoever, or whatever, killed them is still here.

“I think you’re right,” Joan said as she knelt by the frozen monk at the door. Examining him up and down for any hints. “Look at him. He has a wound on him that looks like it was made from a blade, and I have a feeling that the rest of the monks have similar injuries.” Joan suddenly stood up and dusted off her hands. “Well! Time to go investigating!” Before she could walk down the aisle, she was pulled back by Marvin.

“Are you crazy?!” Marvin tried not to yell as he let go of her. “We should go to the police or maybe the O.O.O.! Not investigating!” Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone to call the police. Upon seeing the no bars on his phone, he was quickly reminded that there was no signal in the monastery.

“There’s no time for that,” Joan countered. “And the O.O.O.? You mean the Order of Oarwind? Oh, hell no! I don’t work with those holy knights!” Joan glared at the goat. She was not impressed with his suggestion, much to his confusion.

“Why not?” Marvin asked. “The O.O.O. specialised in disposing of evil and magical beings, creatures, and items. I don’t have to guess that something unholy happened here!”

“Exactly!” Joan replied with her finger up in the air. “Every time they are involved, and I find a sword that’s remotely magical, they try to steal it away from me!”

“Steal it?” Marvin asked with a genuine look of confusion.

“Well, find it before I can.” Joan corrected herself, much to her annoyance. “The point is that they will either destroy it or store it away where nobody will ever see it again!”

“That’s a bad thing because?” Marvin questioned, still puzzled by Joan’s displeasure with them.

“It’s art! It’s history! It deserves to be preserved and displayed so we can admire and learn from it!” Joan almost shouted her lungs out. “It belongs in a museum!”

“Look, we are getting off subject here,” Marvin said, rubbing his temples. He was not just annoyed by her, but with himself for allowing the subject to derail like that.

“You’re right.” Joan agreed as she took a step down the aisle and in the direction of mystery solving. “I need to find out what happened to the monks.” But before walking down the rest of the aisle, she turned to face Marvin. “Are you coming or not?”

Marvin sighed while looking up at the ceiling. “Why do I feel that I’m going to regret this?” He said as if he were talking to the gods above. “I’m coming,” Marvin replied to Joan as he got his rifle ready. Although this was outside his job description, he still felt responsible for the grey fox. Without another word, he followed Joan down the aisle.