Gumroad
Category:
Fantasy
Publisher: Gumroad
Type: Fiction
Pages: 79
Copyright: Dec 2, 2019
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
A novella that is book one of a series set in the classic but unique fantasy setting, Argonis.
A middle-aged drifter finds a sword with a very famous soul trapped inside, and this leads to an adventure full of magic, mayhem, and a new type of dragon.
Excerpt
Jhevvon sat down in a clearing in the trees, along the side of the road. The suns were heavy that day, being it mid Monsevet, the seventh month of the year. He took off his backpack and set it down beside him. This part of the stump made for a decent seat, and the copse of trees made for nice shade from the summer heat. He rested his forearms on his thighs with a relieving sigh. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, asking for mercy from the Sun Gods. He grabbed his waterskin from his belt to take a drink, though, as he tilted his head back, he caught a glint from between his feet. At first, he thought it was a coin as it was circular. He got up and crouched down, moving the debris aside. He could see that it was bigger than a coin.
As he began to unearth it, he found it was more than a medallion even. He soon recognized it as a knight's heron. He began to dig harder. The ground was soft and damp enough that he could just use his hands, and sure enough, it was a sword. An old one at that. It wasn't completely rusted, but had seen better days for sure.
As he went to grab the handle, a glare ran along its length, and for a brief moment, the sword looked shiny and brand new. He blinked his eyes and the image was gone. When he picked it up, it was lighter than he expected.
"It sure took you long enough!"
"What?" Jhevvon was sure he had heard a voice, but no one was nearby. He instinctively held the sword up in defense, noticing that the brand new look had returned.
"Down here. In fact, you are holding m--"
Jhevvon dropped the sword. What in Haos is going on!? He looked down at the sword that had returned to its rusty, diminished state. Jhevvon rubbed his eyes. He had heard stories that the heat could make you hallucinate, but that it only affected your vision. No stories ever mentioned tactile nor audible hallucinations.
Jhevvon had to sit down. It had been a long day, having walked eleven miles already. There was no doubt an ancient sword was laying before him. The part with which he was struggling, was that it was no doubt a magical sword. Jhevvon had gone through most of his life not experiencing magic first hand. He could vaguely remember the traveling showman he saw as a young boy back in Cartavia. He learned later that those spells were merely cantrips as the show was meant for kids. He had even heard of other magic swords, and had walked by many shops that sold them in his time. What he didn't hear about were magic swords that could change their image and talk to you.
As he was lost in thought, he heard a light rustling noise. He looked down at his backpack to find a squirrel raiding the outer pocket. The pocket with his road mix of nuts and dried fruits. The squirrel ran off as he picked up his bag. The buckle on the pocket had stopped working a long time ago. He brought out the pouch of road mix and began snacking on it. He wasn't sure what to think at this moment.
Jhevvon had lived a very basic life of drifting from town to town. He had become a jack-of-all-trades type, except for fighting and magic of course. He never could bring himself to trust magic. He had always thought that his avoidance of magic is what made it avoid him. Now, he couldn't help but think that magic had it in for him. As if it had some vendetta of touching everyone's life, and since he had avoided it this long, it was getting ready to turn his world upside down. Funnily enough, his gut was telling him to pick it up. It was his gut that had made the choice about magic in the first place, and now it had come full circle, urging him to dive in to a whole new world. Right into the deep end with no swimming lessons. Something else he avoided as the thought of drowning never appealed to him.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shrug this new urge. He knew it was curiosity, and he felt just like a cat. We all know what curiosity does to the cat. To further the notion, he has never been one to question his gut. It has gotten him out of a lot of situations, and if it was telling him to go through with it, it was at this point he got up and grabbed the handle once again. He wasn't sure from where the courage came, but he marveled as he watched the shining luster return.
"You did not have to drop me, you clod."
"I'm... um... What in Haos is going on? How is it that a sword is talking to me?"
"Well, if you must know, it is not the sword. It is I, err, my soul. I am trapped in this damn thing!"
"So you mean you used to be someone and got turned into a sword?"
"I wish it had been that simple, as simple as your brain. What I mean to say is, my soul disintegrated before my very eyes and bonded with my ancient sword as part of my punishment." He finished with mumbling, "Then I had to wait for them to pick this idiot."
"Who is this 'them' you're referring to?"
"Oh, just the Gods."
"Who are you, and why are the Gods punishing you?"
"So many questions!"
Jhevvon could hear an audible sigh of annoyance.
"I suppose you deserve an introduction. My name is King Argonis Vallenmore. I have been trapped in this sword for something like a hundred years, apparently waiting for you."
"Umm... "
"What is it?" he asked annoyed, "Spit it out!"
"If you are who you claim to be, it's been more than just one hundred years."
There was a brief moment of silence. "If you can only hear my voice, I am not sure how else I can convey begging other than, 'Please tell me'?"
Jhevvon stammered for a moment, "It's been 500 years since you died."
"No doubt to this very day."
Jhevvon heard him laugh heartily and questioned just how serious the laugh really was. It did sound crazy to him. It also sounded forced. "Of all the people I've ever heard of, you would be the last person on my list as to who should be punished by the Gods themselves."
"Oh, we are way passed the punishment fitting the crime, my friend. We are well into the realm of someone's personal vendetta."
"One of the Gods has a vendetta against you?"
"There is no reason why any one of the Gods would have a vendetta against me. This falls more into the grudge type of vendetta. The kind for which elves are known."
"But, you're famous for bringing peace to these lands. They named this subcontinent after you."
"Well, I am honestly flattered, albeit a little confused. The world and I did not part on such good terms. In fact, tell me, what do historians say of my death?"
"From what I remember, you died of old age with no heirs to speak of, then there was the reign of the Talonmars."
"Ayuss." He sort of hissed the name.
"That's right. He was the first one, and he wasn't so bad, but his heirs were selfish brats that nearly brought the kingdom to its knees."
"Hmm, that is interesting. Far different than I imagined, but it explains why I did not see anyone for what seemed like years."
It was then the sword nearly leaped out of his hand, and at the same time, Jhevvon felt a strange feeling awash his entire body. He watched himself swing the sword around, as if he knew how to use it. The only thing is, he doesn't know how to use but a dagger.
"Oh, yes. That feels good."
Jhevvon was getting scared as he realized he was no longer controlling his own body. This soul claiming to be the greatest king to ever live somehow had control. Jhevvon wanted to fight for control, but didn't know the first thing as to how to accomplish that.
"Well, I can say one good thing. You definitely stay in good shape."
"What are you doing to me?" Jhevvon managed to fight hard enough to ask.
"What? Oh, I sort of took control. Heh, my apologies. I had no idea that was possible."
Jhevvon shook his head. He had full control again. His head felt a little fuzzy, but he was okay. It was a frightening feeling, and he wasn't sure what to think of it. Nothing he had ever experienced could compare to the sensation of losing all control.
"Trust me, losing control does not get any easier, even after you die."
Jhevvon was struggling to put words together in the first place, and now he knows that Argonis can read his thoughts, too. He felt very overwhelmed and dropped the sword again, except it was by accident this time. At the same time, though, he felt he needed a rest. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around it all. It was a lot in which to take, and he had had a long day already. At the same time, it was going to be dark in a few hours, which is about how long it takes to get to Davius from here. Something told him he shouldn't sleep outside tonight.
He grabbed his backpack and put it on, then turned back to the sword. Even if he left the sword here, his life would never be the same. Somehow, he knew it was coming, whether he wanted it to or not. If it truly is King Vallenmore, then he had a lot of questions. Including, who it was that had such a grudge against whom historians call, The Greatest of All Time.
He assessed the sword for a moment and thought, maybe if I don't touch the handle. He carefully grabbed it by the blade and slid it through his leather belt. To his delight, he did not hear Argonis's voice. With a smile, he continued along the road towards Davius.
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