Infinity Blade - The Secret of Castrair

Chapter 1: Setting Off

Working in the village near the Plains of Koroth, I find myself wandering into the grassy plains. Again. I'm just about to return to resume my blacksmithing when I spot the statue of five men holding down a horse. I know that, a few years ago, Jori, or the God King, hunted down and killed Ausar the Vile, near this very location. I have seen the rough stone figures many times, but my fascination for the statue never fades.

 At seventeen, I am one of the youngest in his village to have a job, but I'm smart and strong enough to have gotten one a while ago, even though I chose to not have one. 

I run my fingers over the hard, grey stone composing one of the men, and stare at the horse for a little while longer. 

Finally, I return to my blacksmith shop, where my greatest work lies, almost cooled off. I look around, seeing my many creations of varying quality. However, the weapon I'm most proud of is a sword made of the best quality steel I could find, and I would be amazed if it doesn't sell for at least 100 Gold. 

The hilt is basic, for I don't have the skills to forge intricate designs yet, but still, it's charming in its own way. I run my hand over the flat part of the blade, and then over the sharp edge. It's a but dull, for I haven't sharpened it yet; there's always the chance that it could harm me while I'm shaping it.

 I put it in the giant fire, and leave it there to heat up. Pumping air in the fire, I watch the blade get redder, and then whiter. Finally, I pull it out. Grabbing a hammer, I simultaneously put the sword on the anvil in the center of the room. I start banging on the metal, the clanging resonating all around the room. The tip of the sword isn't the shape I want it, so I hammer away at it, changing it to the form I desire. As I do, the metal cools down, but it is still malleable. For now. The blade is now perfect, but I need to put leather cord and wrap it around the handle. I do so quickly; my nimble hands are used to this exercise. Next, I need to sharpen it. I take the slab of whetstone, and start rubbing the blade against it. 

Finally, when it is ready, I set the blade down, and put it horizontally on two hooks attached to the wall, designed to hold this specific sword. I now have at least eight swords to spare, hanging on my wall. Tommorow, I have some people who have orders to pick up, and they will give me the sword's worth. The new sword will be saved until it's needed. I turn off the fire, and walk around the village, admiring some of the handiwork of the architects and builders. It's a simple town, not rich not poor, but not on the map. With thirty houses or so, and then fifteen more buildings like shops

It's almost night. Once again, I find myself in the Plains of Koroth. I can't help but think of what had happened during the battle between the God King and Ausar the Vile. I look at the statue one last time, the sun going down, making it seem like a shadow in front of the sun. I walk back to my house, right next to the forge. My comfortable yet simple bed welcomes me, the warmth of the covers ushering me to sleep.

I wake up. There is a red light coming from the window. I run outside, and find a group of surprised and panicked men and women. As I push my way through the crowd, I find out what happened. I had left my fire unattended. A rookie mistake. And now some townsfolk might pay the price for my foolishness. I run into the burning building, grabbing the buckets of water I kept to cool off a sword in its final stages. As I splash the cool liquid over the raging flames, I try to save some of my creations, and of course, the worn down hammer I used to beat the swords into shape. I manage to get my newest sword, and some of the other ones out, and then, when the fire  spreads to the blades, I give up, instead throwing buckets of water on the flames. Some people help, and I'm eternally grateful for that. They bring the empty buckets back, but full of water, and give an example, encouraging others to help. Finally, we get rid of the fire, and I sigh with relief. Then I look at the ruins of the forge, and feel sadness overwhelm me. It's like a wave, bringing doubts, and rage, but I have nothing to blame. Tears stream down my grimy face, which was covered in ash. The few swords I'd saved, there were four of them, no longer glistened; they are coated  in soot. I bring my collection, which includes my hammer, to my house, tears still streaming down my face, leaving streaks in the soot. I let my things clatter to the ground next to my bed, and I try to sleep. 

It's a restless sleep, where I toss and turn, and I wake up many times, nightmares about the fire keeping me alert. I cannot go to sleep. Instead, I walk out of the house, and see a figure stalking down the street. What is it? I try to follow it silently, putting my feet down gently, so as not to alert the figure. It doesn't turn. Good. As I approach the dark shape, my heartbeat gets louder, so loud, that I'm afraid it will alert the figure. I ignore my fear as the human shape enters a house, and I hide behind the window, sneaking a peek. However, I see nothing. It's too dark in the house. I wait. Nothing comes out. I go home.

Unable to sleep, I fiddle with my swords. 

Finally, the sky lights up; it's daytime. And then I hear a scream. I run into the street, where a crying woman points to her house. It's the same one I stalked the figure in. Through her sobs and gasps, the woman manages to get out, "My husband... murdered..." I feel my stomach tighten. Could it have been a coincidence? Or was that figure the murderer?

 My brain is very confused; thoughts go through it, immediately replaced by others, suspicions, or doubts. It gives me a headache. And then I remember. I had doused my fire. Someone had lit the forge on purpose. Could it have been the figure? It all makes sense. Well, it all links together, at least.

I walk inside the building. Blood is everywhere. It's dried off mostly, but there are five words on the wall, scribbled messily: I'm coming for you, Castrair. I shudder. That's my name! No-one except the villagers know my name. How does this murderer know me? I feel a chill go down my spine, and I walk out of the house all wide-eyed and trembling.

 I was so shocked that I couldn't concentrate on anything for the rest of the day, an odd dizziness and a headache persisted, but during the night I slept decently, even though the threat of someone being after me was very real. 

I wake up, but it's still dark. I feel slightly less shocked, but when I see the blood in my room, I scream. Fear and surprise paralise me. How? I'd slept lightly! Rapidly, I grab my newest sword, still a bit dull but sharp enough to cut skin. Even though I'm not good with a sword, I raise it, and a figure steps out from the shadows. I gasp. A Marrow Fiend?! The Titan holds a massive sword made of bones, most likely from its enemies. The shield it holds features an ornate skull in the center, and it seems to shine, even though - like the sword - it's made of bone. The servant of the Deathless raises its oddly shaped blade, and swings it down, but I leap out of the way. Panting with excitement, surprise, adrenaline, and wide-eyed, I watch as the Titan swings its misshapen blade sideways. Its too late to dodge it, so I try to parry. The two swords clang together, making sparks, and I grit my teeth, straining to push the Marrow Fiend's blade away. I succeed, temporarily opening a flaw in it's Aegis form. I strike, my steel sword slicing across the chest of the Titan. It stumbles back, but I attack again. This time, the slash is blocked, but I scratch the Marrow Fiend. It slashes, and I can't dodge. I was too confident. The blade cuts my arm, not too deeply, but deep enough to be dangerous. I leap backwards, grabbing a second sword, and use it to parry the Marrow Fiend's blade. I find it better for me if I have a weapon in each hand, but still, it's difficult to fight the Titan. I block one attack, and push, and the servant of the Deathless is shoved backwards. I slice three times with each sword, lightly hitting the Fiend, but cutting it every time. The damage isn't fatal, but if I keep it up, I could actually kill the Titan! Not losing heart as the Marrow Fiend takes the offensive again, I duck, and then go to the side, dodging the blade of the Titan. Somehow, I manage to take down the beast, exhilaration and adrenaline overwhelming me, making me tremble. I now know that I'm a decent swordsman, and I'm best with dual swords. This'll be a big help if I ever need to fight more Titans, or maybe a Deathless. Wait, I'm getting too overconfident. I like my village. Why leave it in search of adventure? Then I realise. I long for some action, something else than boring life in this town. I feel ashamed of myself, and look at my feet, feeling my face reddening with shame. 

I set to work. Mostly, the hearth and fireplace were made of stone, so it was pretty easy to fix, and soon after, I'd set to making two swords that looked the same, but were a bit smaller than standard. Soon, I'll have finished the second one. I had tried to make a serpent around the guards, and somehow, succeeded. Happily, I keep working on the sword, until its blade is exactly the right shape. I sharpen my swords, and pack some provisions. Just in case, I bring the steel sword I made a few days ago, and then I bid goodbye to the villagers. Tears come to my eyes, but I wipe them away: this will probably be the last time I see this village. "Wait!" cried a man, "I have a horse for you! As long as you promise to use it wisely, to defend people like us." I nod, eternally grateful for the big help. I strap the dual swords to my back, and the broadsword to my belt, and I get on the horse. So it begins. My adventure. Castrair's adventure.