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Marpenoth 13, 1368: Forgive this shaking hand and these tear streaked lines. Father has finally opened his heart to me. For the memory of my mother and the love and respect I hold for my father, I will divulge this secret only to you. I know you, unjudgmental parchment, will listen and record.
Twenty-three years ago, my father was much younger, the same age then as I am now. He was an adventurer by necessity. He had been the center of a large scandal in Suzail, (I must remember to pry about this interesting bit.) and left the city in a rush. Father, or Tyron to his friends, said he wandered for months picking odd jobs and acting as a guide for caravans meandering their way along the eastern trade ways.
It was during one of these guided caravans that father met his future wife, my mother, Murelle. Father describes her as an ivory flower amongst a field of copper. He fell in love the first time she stepped from her carriage and fell flat in the mud. He laughed, she cast a cantrip which made his horse rear, and he joined her in the muck.
Father said it was fate which drew them together. They traveled for two years before getting married. Murelle . . . mother, was fire to father's ice. Steel and magic, they made a very good pair. In the third year of their travels, they inadvertently stumbled upon trouble. (Father calls it trouble, I would call it adventure.)
They were exploring a ruined keep along the borders of Thay and Aglarond. Evening was turning to night, and Selune arced across the sky. They discovered a door hidden in the midst of the ruins. Father said there were archaic runes etched in the stonework. Mother began a spell to translate when she doubled over with pain. (Father said she was attuned to the Weave or something like that.) As she fell to her knees, she began desperately chanting a spell of protection. Father says he saw the true face of evil, a creature black as night with fire for its blood and poison as its bitumen. This . . . thing emerged from the portal and rose to its full height. It towered over father. Then it stretched its twisted arms and tattered wings and launched itself to the stars.
It circled twice and attacked. Father was unable to raise his weapon in time, thankfully mother's spell had taken effect. After the third failed attempt, the creature raised its evil maw and hissed one phrase: Return on the night of the child. Then it shimmered and faded from sight.
Father said it took mother a few hours to recover. When she did, she told him the creature must be stopped. She was obsessed with the destruction of the Bloodseeker or so she called it. Father didn't understand. Mother explained to him that she released this evil into the world when she directed magical energy into the stone portal. It would hunt and it would kill.
They spent the next three years searching for this creature. They always seemed to be one-step behind it. Father said it seemed to know when and where they were. Mother said it knew because they were tied together in an unbreakable bond. It drew its strength from her and she could feel its evil and its glee when killing.
Finally, he convinced mother to settle in Arabel until they could research a means to destroy the Bloodseeker. They spent a few months here when mother discovered she was pregnant. Father said it was the happiest moment in his life next to the day he met his lady love. Mother was upset . . . he said she was almost mournful. (He still hasn't explained this to me.) Father told me mother said one phrase, "I must hold out. This child will be the one to pierce my heart."
Through his travels, father learned the art of weapon-smithing. Mother gave him a block of a strange silverywhite metal and told him to forge a sword to rival all others. It took months of toil and travail. Finally, he formed the sword into a two-handed specimen. It was a marvelous blade. Mother gave father more items from which to fashion the hilt and pommel stone. The purest white remhorraz leather bound the hilt and father inlaid the creamy ivory in the pommel. When he was finished, mother told him to rest and that all would be well. She also told him the Bloodseeker would be waiting for them on the next full moon in the ruined keep whence it first emerged.
Mother was far along in her pregnancy with me at this time. She took the completed sword from fathers' hands and took it to her lab and locked herself within. Father said he was sick with worry. She stayed in the lab for two weeks, and when she emerged she was a shell of her former self. Her eyes were sunken, her ribs protruded, she was so pale as to be almost translucent.
She told father it was time for the birth. He ran to fetch the midwife. When he returned with the woman, I had already been delivered into this world. The midwife took me up as I wasn't breathing. She slapped me and cleared my throat. Mother lay in a spreading pool of blood. She wasn't moving. Father said he saw her lying on the sword. The blood was thick and seemed to be drawn to the sword. Father bent to move the sword and was thrown back by an unseen force.
The midwife saw none of this. Father swears he saw mother emerge from the blood and place her hand on the sword and pass within. He grasped for the shade and instead gripped the hilt. He claims the sword was warm and almost alive. He drew the blade from the puddle of blood, not a single drop clung to its gleaming surface. He said he felt mother's presence in his mind. He was stunned and grieved at the same time. Mother had given her life so he could bear a weapon powerful enough to defeat the beast. Mother sacrificed herself so her child and husband could live without fear or consequence for what she had done a little over three years ago.
The blade commanded father to gather his few belongings and his infant daughter together. He did so and as the full moon rose, he and his goods disappeared, only to reappear in the ruins. Father lay me in the basket he had prepared and stood vigil until Selune graced the sky.
Night grew darker and darker, the moon had long since disappeared. Suddenly, a shape began shimmering into existence. Father stood fast and prepared to strike. When the shape solidified, father stood slack-jawed and silent. Murelle stood before him. She ignored father and bent to the basket. She picked me up and an inhuman cry escaped her throat. A roar of tremendous evil shattered the night as the creature shifted shape to its true form once again.
Father commanded it to lay the child aside. It ignored him. It screamed aloud again, I was screaming as well. (Or so father says.) The creature hissed a phrase, "No, she will not pierce my heart!" The creature then dropped me, but I never hit the ground. Father lunged to save me and caught me before I hit.
The beast used this opportunity to slash down at my father. Claws ripped into his trousers and muscles were torn and blood flowed freely. Again the monster struck as father placed me in the basket. Its teeth tore a chunk from his side and father nearly collapsed. Except the sword took over.
Father stood straight once more. His face calm and peaceful. He spoke, but the words were my mothers. "Tonight foul creature we both die. My heart has been absolved of all crimes against you, mankind and nature. Tonight the sundering I caused so many years ago will be healed. Come to me my dark self and let us be rejoined." Father/mother swung the blade so quickly mortal eyes could not follow. Silver sword met ebony flesh. Blood and bitumen mixed. A light flashed and the sword drew the creature into its depths.
Father said he remembered nothing more until dawn. A small party of woodsmen found us. They healed father and provided nourishment for us both. Father said he spent a couple weeks with these good people and finally could not stand to live in an area with such painful memories. He said he traveled for another six weeks or so before stumbling upon Arylon. Arylon has since been his home and mine.
One last part father told me. The blade which hangs in our smithy is the same blade he bore. Father hasn't touched it since the opening of our shop. He doesn't know that I have.
I know mother is always near. I also know I have an unsung legacy. I am the
essence of both creatures within the sword. I am dark and light, I am
laughter and hate. Oh fate . . . won't you answer me? What happened in those
hours which father doesn't remember?
Submitted by Kimberly Moser
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