“When I was a child, my mother would tell me the stories of the Myathians; having such a rare item as the sword would be a sentimental comfort to me, being almost like having my mother back.”
The professor smiled. “I see,” he said.
“My associate shall conduct all business with you concerning this matter. He will act as my personal liaison; whatever he tells you, listen to him.”
As Darben headed for the door, the professor laughed at the thought of something.
“What is it, Professor?’ Darben questioned.
“I was just recalling the last thing the gentleman said to me before leaving that evening. He asked if I wanted to hear a secret. Naturally, I agreed.”
“So what was it?” Darben inquired.
The professor leaned up in order to reach the ear of the taller Darben. “The rightful owner has possession,” he whispered. Darben was bewildered.
“The gentleman said that this was the manner in which this secret was communicated to him. However, when I inquired about the meaning of it, he simply said, ‘he hadn't the foggiest of ideas.’” The professor chuckled loudly. “A very peculiar fellow, he was, indeed.”
Soon Darben was heading back to the States, filled with a greater sense of meaning; of purpose. He relinquished all of his vices; he didn’t want anything to interfere with his quest in finding the Sword of Billum.
But after almost twenty years, and now a very sickly professor Chadwick, Darben still wasn’t any closer to finding the sword. After Professor Chadwick’s death, many more years would pass, but after multiple digs at various sites, it was becoming painfully evident, that the sword would possibly never be found. Yet Darben appeared undaunted by this; he became more determined than ever. But where money and human effort came up short, investments in the technology of the twenty-first century were about to pay huge returns. It started with a phone call from his current associate, Mr. Thomas Melvin.
"Prince Darben, I have just been informed by the men at the site, that they have found something.” Darben was trying to temper his excitement. They had been through this many times before in the past, however, this time much more was expected. They had been using GPS tracking technology with sonar radar to locate anything buried beneath where traditional tools could not reach.
“Very good, Mr. Melvin. Remind the men not to touch the object with their bare hands. I shall be leaving to join them at once.” Twenty four hours later, he made his way onto the site, he was awestruck by just how deep the object had been buried.
Had it not been for modern technology, perhaps it would have never been found. Once inside the tent, he marveled at the shape of the object on the table. At last, could this be the sword? After one hundred and twenty-four years of searching at the cost of million of dollars, he was now possibly standing over the very thing that had been his inspiration for all this time.
“You may leave now,” he ordered the curious onlookers responsible for the manpower and effort to find the sword, however, they would be denied the right to behold the very fruit of their tireless labor. Slowly, he unwrapped the covering the sword was placed in; revealing the insignia of the Myathians. He was dreaming. The sword was in perfect condition; he marveled at how well it had withstood the wear and tear of time. Slowly, with his gloved hands, he pulled the sword from its sheath.
The unique blade was inscribed with the names all of those who had fallen under its skill. He was emotional as he thought about what his father Lucien would say at this moment. The pain he endured as a young mortal because of his scar; the mother/queen who loathed him as a result. The tender love of Louisa. The warm and welcoming smile of Natalia. Softly, he wept. He was now smiling through tears of joy; unable to contain himself. He was overwhelmed by the reality of what was now possible. No more an object of mythical folklore, the sword had been found. It was real! He was holding it in his very hands.
