Chapter 406: The Confounding Secrets of the Swords
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“Great-grandfather…why the hells didn’t you make an instruction book?” Theresa sighed, lying on the grass and turning her sword blades above her head.
The huntress examined them for what seemed like the thousandth time, turning them, inspecting how they shone in the sunlight, running her fingers over the silk on each hilt.
She searched for hidden catches, a secret spot, or concealed areas that felt magical. Her eyes scanned the blades for any writing or hidden symbols. Anything at all.
But there was nothing. Nothing apparent, even though she was using her sharpened senses.
Frowning and reaching beside her, she picked her bow up from the thick grass, turning it over in her hands. On her birthday, Alex had said the gift was ready for magical enchantments to be added to it. Maybe her great-grandfather’s swords were the same? Or maybe they’d been magical once, but then lost their power?
Closing her eyes, she slowly traced the wood with her fingertips, focusing on the grain and any special markings that might have been left in it. There. There were two areas—one above the grip and one below—put there for someone to insert the thinnest of needles.
“Maybe for one of those mana conductor things Alex uses,” she whispered.
She opened her eyes, laid the bow back on the grass and picked up the blades again.
“Maybe there’s a notch or something on your swords, great-grandfather,” she murmured, closing her eyes and gently running her fingers along the blades, examining one at a time.
Aside from nicking her thumb on a sharp edge, she could find nothing.
“No magic, no hidden anything…nothing,” she muttered in frustration.
With a quick flex of her body, Theresa kipped up to her feet and stretched. Then fell into her fighting stance. All around, the sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the Watchers’ training field.
Bull-voiced sergeants organised recruits into neat marching lines in one area, or guided them through sword positions in another. Some sat on the grass learning compulsory spells that all Watchers were expected to know.
While others wielded blade and staff in unison through intricate drills that created flowing movements that were not only beautiful, but deadly.
Theresa sighed.
If only they’d been able to help her.
Several Watchers had tried helping her unlock any secret that might be buried in the twin swords that could have been hidden in them for generations. They’d offered suggestions, asked questions, done research in their personal library, and even examined the two swords with their magics.
Yet, despite every effort, it had all led to the same conclusion: there was something strange about the blades—they never snapped, chipped or needed to be sharpened—but they held no magic or divinity.
She’d come no closer to figuring out their secrets; if there were any to figure out.
Frowning, she twirled the swords then went through a series of push-cuts, steps, guards and draw-cuts. Drawing on powerful life energies within herself—forged through more than a year of life enforcement practise—to make her body ignite with speed and power, the huntress blurred with every step she took.
Everything seemed to slow around her.
Each blow struck with enough force to shatter brick.
Yet her mind was elsewhere—focused on the mystery of the swords—as her body performed a flurry of motion built from thousands of hours of repeated practise.
‘Notice something,’ she demanded of herself.
The blades pushed through the wind.
Notice something.
There was a hiss as they cut the air.
Notice something!
With a final rush, they carved through an imagined opponent, slashing grass on either side of her. Grass stalks flew, blowing in the wind or landing in her raven-black ponytail. She exhaled and waited.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed.
She was faster, stronger and more agile than ever before. But her swords were no sharper. They would never cut Zonon-In.
“Damn it,” Theresa swore softly, holding the weapons in front of her face, then closing her eyes, she tried guiding her inner life energies through her body and into them. If it was the first time she’d tried this, she might have been hopeful…
…but it was at least the hundreth.
So it came as no great surprise when nothing changed in either weapon.
Frowning, she first tried passing her life energy into one blade at a time, then she tried directing the flow of life force in both directions in case the identical swords had to be fueled at the same time.
No changes.
“Dammit,” she swore again, glaring at the blades.
It had been a frustrating day.
Her mind drifted back to blunt ‘advice’ she’d gotten from a Watcher.
“Look,” the squat man had said. “These swords are sentimental. That’s nice and all—and whatever’s keeping them sharp’s convenient—but you’re a warrior. Just a warrior with no magic to call on. That means your life’s going to rely on just three things: your body, your mind and your weapons. And your weapons aren’t keeping up with your body and mind. Go get better ones before these get you killed.”
At the time, she’d been so angry, she hadn’t stopped shaking for an hour.
But day in and day out, she’d tried breaking the secret of the swords—if there even was a secret—and she’d made no progress. None.
What if he was right? What if there is no way forward with great-grandfather’s swords? They’d served her well, but maybe it was time to go to a local armoury with Isolde or Alex and look for something new. Being injured or literally losing her life clinging to a family legacy was senseless.
“No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Great-grandfather used these. They had power in them then…I think.”
She mulled over the situation.
‘What do I actually know about the legacy of his swords? Not that much really. I know he used them with a vengeance across the seas, but most of those stories were about him being a legend because of his skill, strength, and impossible speed. The blades were mentioned, but only in passing, not as anything special or unique.’
She remembered her grandfather telling the family a story about how
great-grandfather Lu, “slashed through pirates and armour in one strike!” but pirates didn’t wear armour heavier than quilt or leather.
Maybe the swords were just…swords: very well made and with something about them that kept them sharp, but that was it.
“Then why would he keep using you?” she asked the blades, turning them in her fingers. She wished they would answer; if benches could walk away from a cerberus, then why couldn’t blades give their masters’ great-granddaughter some useful guidance?
“If you were so ordinary and he was so powerful, wouldn’t he have traded you in for better swords?”
Of course, the blades didn’t answer.
She sighed, sheathing them and gathering her things. “Why can’t the ancient sorceries and hidden magics of the world help me for once?”
Life seemed quite happy to throw surprise demons, mana-eating monsters, sorcerous cultists and divine conspiracies at her, so why not a helpful, talking pair of swords? Shouldering her pack, she made her way from the training grounds and toward the main castle.
Professor Kabbot-Xin’s office hours had started, and the life-enforcement practitioner knew of Twinblade Lu. Maybe she’d have some insight to offer.
###
The professor’s office wasn’t quite what Theresa expected.
For one, it had no ceiling.
The circular stone chamber was opened to the sky, welcoming in sunlight and warm winds. Atop the rounded walls and dozens of windows, lay mechanisms attached to fabric with a sheen like waterproof coats and cloaks she’d seen wizards around campus wearing. ‘Maybe the fabric’s a retractable cover for the roof and windows?’ She wondered. ‘But, why wouldn’t she use magic to keep the elements out, unless she does sometimes?’
A quick glance around the room showed her that none of the stone furniture—and it was all made of stone—was stained with watermarks from outdoors. Considering that the floor was a bed of fine white sand except for a small wooden platform at the front door where visitors left their footwear, keeping the weather out was clearly a priority for the professor. Above a grassy mat beside the door, a copper basin with glowing water where dozens of fish no bigger than fruit flies lived, hovered inches above the grass.
A quick dip of one’s feet into the basin, and the fish would churn around them like a whirlpool, nipping away dirt, and refreshing and soothing the skin. Theresa’s feet still tingled from their little bites and she wriggled her toes in the sand. Though she was sitting cross-legged on the ground—her blades balanced before her—no sand clung to her skin or clothing, and eyeing the bottom of Professor Kabbot-Xin’s robes while the older woman poured two cups of tea, all she saw was spotlessly clean fabric, free of even a speck of sand.
There must be some kind of magic involved.
The huntress’ eyes drifted to the open sky. Magic to stop sand from clinging to everything, but none to stop the elements?
“Professor, why doesn’t your office have a roof?” she asked.
The professor answered softly, “I believe in teaching and encouraging my students to be mindful of the moment and the world, but imagine if I were then to shut myself away from that world, I think that would see me fail the very lessons I seek to teach.” She glided across the sand with cups in hand, skirting a small white-barked, red leafed maple tree in the centre of the room. It rose from a mound of black earth contrasting the sand. “To be connected with the moment, one needs to be connected to the world if one truly wishes to follow such a path.”
“Connected…” Theresa muttered. “That’s exactly what I’m not feeling. I’m disconnected.”
“Oh?” Professor Kabbot-Xin handed her a steaming cup of hibiscus tea as she sank down on the sand across from the huntress. She cooled the hot liquid with her breath. “Is your training not going well? Perhaps you should return to auditing a few classes with me. It is—of course—your choice.”
“No, that part’s going well,” Theresa said. “I feel stronger all the time. My senses are sharper. I notice more of the world around me. And my spirit’s calm.”
“Then something else?” The professor looked down. “Something to do with those two blades across your lap?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Theresa held up her swords. “These were my great-grandfather’s. They belonged to Twinblade Lu.”
“I imagined so. Congratulations. What a fine inheritance you’ve received.”
“I’m not so sure about that, professor,” Theresa said. She flinched, horrified by her own words. “No, that’s not what I meant…I mean…”
“Take a breath.” Professor Kabbot-Xin smiled and sipped her tea. “Be mindful of your thoughts.”
Theresa took a breath so deep, her whole body shuddered, and—as she inhaled—she quieted her mind, noticing every emotion, every passing thought and every sensation:
Warm sand beneath her.
Cold steel on her legs.
The tickle of her clothing, and the late autumn air on her skin.
Frustration. Fear. Guilt. Worry.
She exhaled.
“More centred now?” Kabbot-Xin asked.
“Yes, I know what I wanted to say.” Theresa gripped the hilts of both swords, holding them between her and the life enforcement professor. “I feel disconnected from them. I think there’s something hidden in them, but I can’t find a way to unlock what that might be. And it’s…worrying me.”
“Worrying you?”
“Yes,” Theresa continued. “If I don’t figure out their secrets, something’s going to kill me one day. Or my partner, or one of my friends…or someone near me.”
“I see. You have quite a weight resting on your shoulders.”
“It is.” The huntress flipped the swords around, offering the hilts to her professor. “You said you knew of my grandfather, so I was wondering if you might have any guidance for me. Maybe a guess as to what the blades’ secrets could be. Or any suggestion on how to know if there’s something hidden in them. Or anything at all. I just…I’ve been trying and trying, and I don’t even know if what I’m doing is the right thing. It’s like trying to wrestle fog.”
“So your goal is to understand your swords, but you don’t know if you are trying the right things. And so you feel lost. You are scared, because if you do not unlock the potential secret, you might let someone down during a life and death struggle.”
“Yes!” Theresa cried. “And our opponents are tougher and the situations affect lots of people. Our allies are also strong, but, by the Traveller, professor, I was in a fight not long ago and most of us almost died. And the whole time, my swords couldn’t even do what swords are supposed to do; pierce our enemy enough to stop her. I know I’m getting stronger and faster. I’m learning more and more about how to fight, but what’s the use of all that if my swords can’t do enough damage to stronger enemies to stop them?”
“That would worry me too.” The professor set her tea cup down on empty air, then took the blades by the hilt. “Well, it is good to seek help. Too many people hit their heads against walls for too long when a helping hand was all they needed for a breakthrough.”
“Right…so I was hoping…” The huntress leaned in expectantly. “That you might know something.”
“Well, I am no expert in metal, battle or magic items. but…” Professor Kabbot-Xin held the swords up before her face and took a deep breath, almost as though she were inhaling some of the blades’ aura. “…interesting.”
“What is it?” Theresa asked.
“There is some evidence that a life force very similar to yours flowed through these blades at one time.”
The huntress half-stood in excitement. “Yes? Yes! That must have been great-grandfather’s! Can…can you see how his energy entered the swords? Maybe I can do the same thing!”
“I cannot.” Her professor threw cold water on Theresa’s excitement. “And…”
She took another deep breath.
“…there is a possibility that you might not be able to either. Not now. Or perhaps ever.”
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“Great-grandfather…why the hells didn’t you make an instruction book?” Theresa sighed, lying on the grass and turning her sword blades above her head.
The huntress examined them for what seemed like the thousandth time, turning them, inspecting how they shone in the sunlight, running her fingers over the silk on each hilt.
She searched for hidden catches, a secret spot, or concealed areas that felt magical. Her eyes scanned the blades for any writing or hidden symbols. Anything at all.
But there was nothing. Nothing apparent, even though she was using her sharpened senses.
Frowning and reaching beside her, she picked her bow up from the thick grass, turning it over in her hands. On her birthday, Alex had said the gift was ready for magical enchantments to be added to it. Maybe her great-grandfather’s swords were the same? Or maybe they’d been magical once, but then lost their power?
Closing her eyes, she slowly traced the wood with her fingertips, focusing on the grain and any special markings that might have been left in it. There. There were two areas—one above the grip and one below—put there for someone to insert the thinnest of needles.
“Maybe for one of those mana conductor things Alex uses,” she whispered.
She opened her eyes, laid the bow back on the grass and picked up the blades again.
“Maybe there’s a notch or something on your swords, great-grandfather,” she murmured, closing her eyes and gently running her fingers along the blades, examining one at a time.
Aside from nicking her thumb on a sharp edge, she could find nothing.
“No magic, no hidden anything…nothing,” she muttered in frustration.
With a quick flex of her body, Theresa kipped up to her feet and stretched. Then fell into her fighting stance. All around, the sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the Watchers’ training field.
Bull-voiced sergeants organised recruits into neat marching lines in one area, or guided them through sword positions in another. Some sat on the grass learning compulsory spells that all Watchers were expected to know.
While others wielded blade and staff in unison through intricate drills that created flowing movements that were not only beautiful, but deadly.
Theresa sighed.
If only they’d been able to help her.
Several Watchers had tried helping her unlock any secret that might be buried in the twin swords that could have been hidden in them for generations. They’d offered suggestions, asked questions, done research in their personal library, and even examined the two swords with their magics.
Yet, despite every effort, it had all led to the same conclusion: there was something strange about the blades—they never snapped, chipped or needed to be sharpened—but they held no magic or divinity.
She’d come no closer to figuring out their secrets; if there were any to figure out.
Frowning, she twirled the swords then went through a series of push-cuts, steps, guards and draw-cuts. Drawing on powerful life energies within herself—forged through more than a year of life enforcement practise—to make her body ignite with speed and power, the huntress blurred with every step she took.
Everything seemed to slow around her.
Each blow struck with enough force to shatter brick.
Yet her mind was elsewhere—focused on the mystery of the swords—as her body performed a flurry of motion built from thousands of hours of repeated practise.
‘Notice something,’ she demanded of herself.
The blades pushed through the wind.
Notice something.
There was a hiss as they cut the air.
Notice something!
With a final rush, they carved through an imagined opponent, slashing grass on either side of her. Grass stalks flew, blowing in the wind or landing in her raven-black ponytail. She exhaled and waited.
Nothing.
Nothing had changed.
She was faster, stronger and more agile than ever before. But her swords were no sharper. They would never cut Zonon-In.
“Damn it,” Theresa swore softly, holding the weapons in front of her face, then closing her eyes, she tried guiding her inner life energies through her body and into them. If it was the first time she’d tried this, she might have been hopeful…
…but it was at least the hundreth.
So it came as no great surprise when nothing changed in either weapon.
Frowning, she first tried passing her life energy into one blade at a time, then she tried directing the flow of life force in both directions in case the identical swords had to be fueled at the same time.
No changes.
“Dammit,” she swore again, glaring at the blades.
It had been a frustrating day.
Her mind drifted back to blunt ‘advice’ she’d gotten from a Watcher.
“Look,” the squat man had said. “These swords are sentimental. That’s nice and all—and whatever’s keeping them sharp’s convenient—but you’re a warrior. Just a warrior with no magic to call on. That means your life’s going to rely on just three things: your body, your mind and your weapons. And your weapons aren’t keeping up with your body and mind. Go get better ones before these get you killed.”
At the time, she’d been so angry, she hadn’t stopped shaking for an hour.
But day in and day out, she’d tried breaking the secret of the swords—if there even was a secret—and she’d made no progress. None.
What if he was right? What if there is no way forward with great-grandfather’s swords? They’d served her well, but maybe it was time to go to a local armoury with Isolde or Alex and look for something new. Being injured or literally losing her life clinging to a family legacy was senseless.
“No,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Great-grandfather used these. They had power in them then…I think.”
She mulled over the situation.
‘What do I actually know about the legacy of his swords? Not that much really. I know he used them with a vengeance across the seas, but most of those stories were about him being a legend because of his skill, strength, and impossible speed. The blades were mentioned, but only in passing, not as anything special or unique.’
She remembered her grandfather telling the family a story about how
great-grandfather Lu, “slashed through pirates and armour in one strike!” but pirates didn’t wear armour heavier than quilt or leather.
Maybe the swords were just…swords: very well made and with something about them that kept them sharp, but that was it.
“Then why would he keep using you?” she asked the blades, turning them in her fingers. She wished they would answer; if benches could walk away from a cerberus, then why couldn’t blades give their masters’ great-granddaughter some useful guidance?
“If you were so ordinary and he was so powerful, wouldn’t he have traded you in for better swords?”
Of course, the blades didn’t answer.
She sighed, sheathing them and gathering her things. “Why can’t the ancient sorceries and hidden magics of the world help me for once?”
Life seemed quite happy to throw surprise demons, mana-eating monsters, sorcerous cultists and divine conspiracies at her, so why not a helpful, talking pair of swords? Shouldering her pack, she made her way from the training grounds and toward the main castle.
Professor Kabbot-Xin’s office hours had started, and the life-enforcement practitioner knew of Twinblade Lu. Maybe she’d have some insight to offer.
###
The professor’s office wasn’t quite what Theresa expected.
For one, it had no ceiling.
The circular stone chamber was opened to the sky, welcoming in sunlight and warm winds. Atop the rounded walls and dozens of windows, lay mechanisms attached to fabric with a sheen like waterproof coats and cloaks she’d seen wizards around campus wearing. ‘Maybe the fabric’s a retractable cover for the roof and windows?’ She wondered. ‘But, why wouldn’t she use magic to keep the elements out, unless she does sometimes?’
A quick glance around the room showed her that none of the stone furniture—and it was all made of stone—was stained with watermarks from outdoors. Considering that the floor was a bed of fine white sand except for a small wooden platform at the front door where visitors left their footwear, keeping the weather out was clearly a priority for the professor. Above a grassy mat beside the door, a copper basin with glowing water where dozens of fish no bigger than fruit flies lived, hovered inches above the grass.
A quick dip of one’s feet into the basin, and the fish would churn around them like a whirlpool, nipping away dirt, and refreshing and soothing the skin. Theresa’s feet still tingled from their little bites and she wriggled her toes in the sand. Though she was sitting cross-legged on the ground—her blades balanced before her—no sand clung to her skin or clothing, and eyeing the bottom of Professor Kabbot-Xin’s robes while the older woman poured two cups of tea, all she saw was spotlessly clean fabric, free of even a speck of sand.
There must be some kind of magic involved.
The huntress’ eyes drifted to the open sky. Magic to stop sand from clinging to everything, but none to stop the elements?
“Professor, why doesn’t your office have a roof?” she asked.
The professor answered softly, “I believe in teaching and encouraging my students to be mindful of the moment and the world, but imagine if I were then to shut myself away from that world, I think that would see me fail the very lessons I seek to teach.” She glided across the sand with cups in hand, skirting a small white-barked, red leafed maple tree in the centre of the room. It rose from a mound of black earth contrasting the sand. “To be connected with the moment, one needs to be connected to the world if one truly wishes to follow such a path.”
“Connected…” Theresa muttered. “That’s exactly what I’m not feeling. I’m disconnected.”
“Oh?” Professor Kabbot-Xin handed her a steaming cup of hibiscus tea as she sank down on the sand across from the huntress. She cooled the hot liquid with her breath. “Is your training not going well? Perhaps you should return to auditing a few classes with me. It is—of course—your choice.”
“No, that part’s going well,” Theresa said. “I feel stronger all the time. My senses are sharper. I notice more of the world around me. And my spirit’s calm.”
“Then something else?” The professor looked down. “Something to do with those two blades across your lap?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Theresa held up her swords. “These were my great-grandfather’s. They belonged to Twinblade Lu.”
“I imagined so. Congratulations. What a fine inheritance you’ve received.”
“I’m not so sure about that, professor,” Theresa said. She flinched, horrified by her own words. “No, that’s not what I meant…I mean…”
“Take a breath.” Professor Kabbot-Xin smiled and sipped her tea. “Be mindful of your thoughts.”
Theresa took a breath so deep, her whole body shuddered, and—as she inhaled—she quieted her mind, noticing every emotion, every passing thought and every sensation:
Warm sand beneath her.
Cold steel on her legs.
The tickle of her clothing, and the late autumn air on her skin.
Frustration. Fear. Guilt. Worry.
She exhaled.
“More centred now?” Kabbot-Xin asked.
“Yes, I know what I wanted to say.” Theresa gripped the hilts of both swords, holding them between her and the life enforcement professor. “I feel disconnected from them. I think there’s something hidden in them, but I can’t find a way to unlock what that might be. And it’s…worrying me.”
“Worrying you?”
“Yes,” Theresa continued. “If I don’t figure out their secrets, something’s going to kill me one day. Or my partner, or one of my friends…or someone near me.”
“I see. You have quite a weight resting on your shoulders.”
“It is.” The huntress flipped the swords around, offering the hilts to her professor. “You said you knew of my grandfather, so I was wondering if you might have any guidance for me. Maybe a guess as to what the blades’ secrets could be. Or any suggestion on how to know if there’s something hidden in them. Or anything at all. I just…I’ve been trying and trying, and I don’t even know if what I’m doing is the right thing. It’s like trying to wrestle fog.”
“So your goal is to understand your swords, but you don’t know if you are trying the right things. And so you feel lost. You are scared, because if you do not unlock the potential secret, you might let someone down during a life and death struggle.”
“Yes!” Theresa cried. “And our opponents are tougher and the situations affect lots of people. Our allies are also strong, but, by the Traveller, professor, I was in a fight not long ago and most of us almost died. And the whole time, my swords couldn’t even do what swords are supposed to do; pierce our enemy enough to stop her. I know I’m getting stronger and faster. I’m learning more and more about how to fight, but what’s the use of all that if my swords can’t do enough damage to stronger enemies to stop them?”
“That would worry me too.” The professor set her tea cup down on empty air, then took the blades by the hilt. “Well, it is good to seek help. Too many people hit their heads against walls for too long when a helping hand was all they needed for a breakthrough.”
“Right…so I was hoping…” The huntress leaned in expectantly. “That you might know something.”
“Well, I am no expert in metal, battle or magic items. but…” Professor Kabbot-Xin held the swords up before her face and took a deep breath, almost as though she were inhaling some of the blades’ aura. “…interesting.”
“What is it?” Theresa asked.
“There is some evidence that a life force very similar to yours flowed through these blades at one time.”
The huntress half-stood in excitement. “Yes? Yes! That must have been great-grandfather’s! Can…can you see how his energy entered the swords? Maybe I can do the same thing!”
“I cannot.” Her professor threw cold water on Theresa’s excitement. “And…”
She took another deep breath.
“…there is a possibility that you might not be able to either. Not now. Or perhaps ever.”
Great-grandfatherwhy the hells didn't you make an instruction book? Theresa sighed, lying on the grass and turning her sword blades above her head.The huntress examined them for what seemed like the thousandth time, turning them, inspecting how they shone in the sunlight, running her fingers over the silk on each hilt.She searched for hidden catches, a secret spot, or concealed areas that felt magical. Her eyes scanned the blades for any writing or hidden symbols. Anything at all.But there was nothing. Nothing apparent, even though she was using her sharpened senses.Frowning and reaching beside her, she picked her bow up from the thick grass, turning it over in her hands. On her birthday, Alex had said the gift was ready for magical enchantments to be added to it. Maybe her great-grandfather's swords were the same? Or maybe they'd been magical once, but then lost their power?Closing her eyes, she slowly traced the wood with her fingertips, focusing on the grain and any special markings that might have been left in it. There. There were two areasone above the grip and one belowput there for someone to insert the thinnest of needles.Maybe for one of those mana conductor things Alex uses, she whispered.She opened her eyes, laid the bow back on the grass and picked up the blades again.Maybe there's a notch or something on your swords, great-grandfather, she murmured, closing her eyes and gently running her fingers along the blades, examining one at a time.Aside from nicking her thumb on a sharp edge, she could find nothing.No magic, no hidden anythingnothing, she muttered in frustration.With a quick flex of her body, Theresa kipped up to her feet and stretched. Then fell into her fighting stance. All around, the sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the Watchers' training field.Bull-voiced sergeants organised recruits into neat marching lines in one area, or guided them through sword positions in another. Some sat on the grass learning compulsory spells that all Watchers were expected to know.While others wielded blade and staff in unison through intricate drills that created flowing movements that were not only beautiful, but deadly.Theresa sighed.If only they'd been able to help her.Several Watchers had tried helping her unlock any secret that might be buried in the twin swords that could have been hidden in them for generations. They'd offered suggestions, asked questions, done research in their personal library, and even examined the two swords with their magics.Yet, despite every effort, it had all led to the same conclusion: there was something strange about the bladesthey never snapped, chipped or needed to be sharpenedbut they held no magic or divinity.She'd come no closer to figuring out their secrets; if there were any to figure out.Frowning, she twirled the swords then went through a series of push-cuts, steps, guards and draw-cuts. Drawing on powerful life energies within herselfforged through more than a year of life enforcement practiseto make her body ignite with speed and power, the huntress blurred with every step she took.Everything seemed to slow around her.Each blow struck with enough force to shatter brick.Yet her mind was elsewherefocused on the mystery of the swordsas her body performed a flurry of motion built from thousands of hours of repeated practise.Notice something,' she demanded of herself.The blades pushed through the wind.Notice something.There was a hiss as they cut the air.Notice something!With a final rush, they carved through an imagined opponent, slashing grass on either side of her. Grass stalks flew, blowing in the wind or landing in her raven-black ponytail. She exhaled and waited.Nothing.Nothing had changed.She was faster, stronger and more agile than ever before. But her swords were no sharper. They would never cut Zonon-In.Damn it, Theresa swore softly, holding the weapons in front of her face, then closing her eyes, she tried guiding her inner life energies through her body and into them. If it was the first time she'd tried this, she might have been hopefulbut it was at least the hundreth.So it came as no great surprise when nothing changed in either weapon.Frowning, she first tried passing her life energy into one blade at a time, then she tried directing the flow of life force in both directions in case the identical swords had to be fueled at the same time.No changes.Dammit, she swore again, glaring at the blades.It had been a frustrating day.Her mind drifted back to blunt advice' she'd gotten from a Watcher.Look, the squat man had said. These swords are sentimental. That's nice and alland whatever's keeping them sharp's convenientbut you're a warrior. Just a warrior with no magic to call on. That means your life's going to rely on just three things: your body, your mind and your weapons. And your weapons aren't keeping up with your body and mind. Go get better ones before these get you killed.At the time, she'd been so angry, she hadn't stopped shaking for an hour.But day in and day out, she'd tried breaking the secret of the swordsif there even was a secretand she'd made no progress. None.What if he was right? What if there is no way forward with great-grandfather's swords? They'd served her well, but maybe it was time to go to a local armoury with Isolde or Alex and look for something new. Being injured or literally losing her life clinging to a family legacy was senseless.No, she muttered, shaking her head. Great-grandfather used these. They had power in them thenI think.She mulled over the situation.What do I actually know about the legacy of his swords? Not that much really. I know he used them with a vengeance across the seas, but most of those stories were about him being a legend because of his skill, strength, and impossible speed. The blades were mentioned, but only in passing, not as anything special or unique.'She remembered her grandfather telling the family a story about howgreat-grandfather Lu, slashed through pirates and armour in one strike! but pirates didn't wear armour heavier than quilt or leather.Maybe the swords were justswords: very well made and with something about them that kept them sharp, but that was it.Then why would he keep using you? she asked the blades, turning them in her fingers. She wished they would answer; if benches could walk away from a cerberus, then why couldn't blades give their masters' great-granddaughter some useful guidance?If you were so ordinary and he was so powerful, wouldn't he have traded you in for better swords?Of course, the blades didn't answer.She sighed, sheathing them and gathering her things. Why can't the ancient sorceries and hidden magics of the world help me for once?Life seemed quite happy to throw surprise demons, mana-eating monsters, sorcerous cultists and divine conspiracies at her, so why not a helpful, talking pair of swords? Shouldering her pack, she made her way from the training grounds and toward the main castle.Professor Kabbot-Xin's office hours had started, and the life-enforcement practitioner knew of Twinblade Lu. Maybe she'd have some insight to offer.###The professor's office wasn't quite what Theresa expected.For one, it had no ceiling.The circular stone chamber was opened to the sky, welcoming in sunlight and warm winds. Atop the rounded walls and dozens of windows, lay mechanisms attached to fabric with a sheen like waterproof coats and cloaks she'd seen wizards around campus wearing. Maybe the fabric's a retractable cover for the roof and windows?' She wondered. But, why wouldn't she use magic to keep the elements out, unless she does sometimes?'A quick glance around the room showed her that none of the stone furnitureand it was all made of stonewas stained with watermarks from outdoors. Considering that the floor was a bed of fine white sand except for a small wooden platform at the front door where visitors left their footwear, keeping the weather out was clearly a priority for the professor. Above a grassy mat beside the door, a copper basin with glowing water where dozens of fish no bigger than fruit flies lived, hovered inches above the grass.A quick dip of one's feet into the basin, and the fish would churn around them like a whirlpool, nipping away dirt, and refreshing and soothing the skin. Theresa's feet still tingled from their little bites and she wriggled her toes in the sand. Though she was sitting cross-legged on the groundher blades balanced before herno sand clung to her skin or clothing, and eyeing the bottom of Professor Kabbot-Xin's robes while the older woman poured two cups of tea, all she saw was spotlessly clean fabric, free of even a speck of sand.There must be some kind of magic involved.The huntress' eyes drifted to the open sky. Magic to stop sand from clinging to everything, but none to stop the elements?Professor, why doesn't your office have a roof? she asked.The professor answered softly, I believe in teaching and encouraging my students to be mindful of the moment and the world, but imagine if I were then to shut myself away from that world, I think that would see me fail the very lessons I seek to teach. She glided across the sand with cups in hand, skirting a small white-barked, red leafed maple tree in the centre of the room. It rose from a mound of black earth contrasting the sand. To be connected with the moment, one needs to be connected to the world if one truly wishes to follow such a path.Connected Theresa muttered. That's exactly what I'm not feeling. I'm disconnected.Oh? Professor Kabbot-Xin handed her a steaming cup of hibiscus tea as she sank down on the sand across from the huntress. She cooled the hot liquid with her breath. Is your training not going well? Perhaps you should return to auditing a few classes with me. It isof courseyour choice.No, that part's going well, Theresa said. I feel stronger all the time. My senses are sharper. I notice more of the world around me. And my spirit's calm.Then something else? The professor looked down. Something to do with those two blades across your lap?Yes, that's right. Theresa held up her swords. These were my great-grandfather's. They belonged to Twinblade Lu.I imagined so. Congratulations. What a fine inheritance you've received.I'm not so sure about that, professor, Theresa said. She flinched, horrified by her own words. No, that's not what I meantI meanTake a breath. Professor Kabbot-Xin smiled and sipped her tea. Be mindful of your thoughts.Theresa took a breath so deep, her whole body shuddered, andas she inhaledshe quieted her mind, noticing every emotion, every passing thought and every sensation:Warm sand beneath her.Cold steel on her legs.The tickle of her clothing, and the late autumn air on her skin.Frustration. Fear. Guilt. Worry.She exhaled.More centred now? Kabbot-Xin asked.Yes, I know what I wanted to say. Theresa gripped the hilts of both swords, holding them between her and the life enforcement professor. I feel disconnected from them. I think there's something hidden in them, but I can't find a way to unlock what that might be. And it'sworrying me.Worrying you?Yes, Theresa continued. If I don't figure out their secrets, something's going to kill me one day. Or my partner, or one of my friendsor someone near me.I see. You have quite a weight resting on your shoulders.It is. The huntress flipped the swords around, offering the hilts to her professor. You said you knew of my grandfather, so I was wondering if you might have any guidance for me. Maybe a guess as to what the blades' secrets could be. Or any suggestion on how to know if there's something hidden in them. Or anything at all. I justI've been trying and trying, and I don't even know if what I'm doing is the right thing. It's like trying to wrestle fog.So your goal is to understand your swords, but you don't know if you are trying the right things. And so you feel lost. You are scared, because if you do not unlock the potential secret, you might let someone down during a life and death struggle.Yes! Theresa cried. And our opponents are tougher and the situations affect lots of people. Our allies are also strong, but, by the Traveller, professor, I was in a fight not long ago and most of us almost died. And the whole time, my swords couldn't even do what swords are supposed to do; pierce our enemy enough to stop her. I know I'm getting stronger and faster. I'm learning more and more about how to fight, but what's the use of all that if my swords can't do enough damage to stronger enemies to stop them?That would worry me too. The professor set her tea cup down on empty air, then took the blades by the hilt. Well, it is good to seek help. Too many people hit their heads against walls for too long when a helping hand was all they needed for a breakthrough.Rightso I was hoping The huntress leaned in expectantly. That you might know something.Well, I am no expert in metal, battle or magic items. but Professor Kabbot-Xin held the swords up before her face and took a deep breath, almost as though she were inhaling some of the blades' aura. interesting.What is it? Theresa asked.There is some evidence that a life force very similar to yours flowed through these blades at one time.The huntress half-stood in excitement. Yes? Yes! That must have been great-grandfather's! Cancan you see how his energy entered the swords? Maybe I can do the same thing!I cannot. Her professor threw cold water on Theresa's excitement. AndShe took another deep breath.there is a possibility that you might not be able to either. Not now. Or perhaps ever.
