Two Moon Eclipse

Ezra woke and found himself leaning against an old apple tree in the late spring sun. It took a few seconds for him to gather his thoughts, waking in a new location. Soon though he rose and after attending to nature he gathered his meager belongings, including what appeared to be an old sword wrapped in a worn blanket. His attempts at disguising it, falling short as the hilt of the nearly four foot blade kept poking out. Luckily for him there was no one around to see it. For if the wrong eyes were to fall upon this particular item he would most likely have to use it, to retain it.

The story of how he came to be in possession of it, is a story for later, it is a story of how the sword had called to him to take it up. Most thought this blade a thing of legend, a thing made from stories told at many tap rooms and inns, but not something that truly existed. Yet exist it did, and most of the stories told of it, fell short. The hands that wielded it in ages past becoming legends in their own right. Now, in this age, it had chosen him to grasp it’s well worn pommel.

Glancing over his shoulder before stepping onto, what could only loosely be called a road, he headed west. He needed to put more distance between himself and where he had started this journey. His thoughts on pursuers, weather real or imagined, still needed to be heeded.

The weeds choking the center of the road told the story of how little traffic this particular road normally saw. He liked that this was so and relaxed his stride slightly because of it. The day wore on into afternoon and he was aware of his empty stomach growling it’s displeasure back at him for being thus so. His store of jerky was nearly gone already and he wasn’t sure exactly when he would be able to secure some more. So he drank some water to still his stomach and ignored the hunger as best he could. Several hours on, as providence would have it, he saw a crossroad coming, down at the bottom of the hill he was topping. A couple of buildings gathered near the intersection, one with smoke coming from it’s stone chimney. Hopefully an inn of sorts.

Ezra slowed, he needed to hide the sword. It wouldn’t do to walk into a strange place with it in his possession. His ragged appearance didn’t fit well with him having it at all. Closer on he saw a thick bramble next to the road and so walking around to the backside, he concealed it carefully. Each step he took away from it caused a strong tug of separation in his gut. He and it were becoming linked in some way.

It was indeed an inn, the sweet smell of fresh warm bread wafting out of the door was enough to bring his hunger into acute focus. As his eyes adjusted to the darker interior, Ezra looked around at the small dining area, which was almost empty. Two hunter looking type men in their prime, an old man sitting at the bar, and a burly fellow behind the bar wiping it down. After giving him the once over, they all went back to their own business.

Walking over to the bar Ezra sat down with a stool between himself and the old man. Wiping his hands on a towel, the big guy came over and said to Ezra, “What’ll it be?” Ezra asked for a pint and then asked about a plate of whatever was in the stewpot. To which the man looked him over again and asked “Got any money?” To Ezra’s nod he said “A penny each for the plate and the pint. Ezra reached into his pouch and put a silver crown on the bar top. The owner, for that is who he was, immediately put his hand over it, and sliding it back to Ezra, quietly said “Put that away and don’t show it again.” Ezra looked at him as the man’s eyes motioned to the two sitting at the nearby table. Ezra nodded, and slid the bright metal back into the pouch, where it settled next to the gold sovereigns. The old man while pretending to have not noticed, gave Ezra another look. The ragged appearance no longer hid the youths true worth. It was a rare thing indeed to see anything other than coppers in this landscape. Looking down he looked at Ezra’s shoes, everyone knew that you could always tell a person’s station by their footwear. Ezra’s, while dirty from the road, still told the truth. He was not what he was pretending to be.

Ezra was halfway through his lamb stew when the old man decided that he would try to strike up a conversation, starting with the weather. “Nice day to be traveling, where you headed son?” he said as nonchalantly as he could. Ezra wasn’t having it but he replied knowing that he needed to play this game out. “ I’m heading east, heard that there was work to be had up towards Whalers bay.” He said with a practiced air. He had said it many times in his head, knowing that he would need several lies concerning his travels. He tried not to engage the man further but to no avail. “I’ve a nephew working on a whaler there, last I knew.” he said between sips of beer. “Half wit that he is, surprised he hasn’t fallen overboard by now.” He chuckled. Ezra was almost taken in with his fatherly demeanor, but knew he needed to keep an arms distance from strangers for now. He realized that he needed to put this place behind him but didn’t want to piss off the man either, so signaling to the owner that he wanted to settle up he also told him to give the old man a pint on him. Rummaging through his pockets he found a silver penny worth ten coppers, which he laid on the bar, thanking him for the fine stew and fresh bread. The old man thanked him profusely for the pint as he rose to leave. The two men at the table seemed to be engaged in a quiet conversation and didn’t even look at him as he left.

The twilight of early evening gave Ezra some cover as he headed back east to retrieve the sword. A moment of panic overtook him as he fumbled for the sword in the darkness, until his hand found it. Then he heard voices approaching. Ezra remained hidden behind the thick thorny bushes, hearing several words in their quiet conversation as they passed by. The one saying “Those fine boots are mine you hear.” It was the two men from the inn, they were definitely looking for him. Ezra remained crouched in the brambles, his left hand gripping the sword. It was starting to leak light from several places in the scabbard. “Shit, shit, shit” Ezra said to himself “What is happening?”

The men had stopped on the road, seeing the strange glow coming from the bushes. The leader who wanted his boots motioned for the other one to go around one end, while he came at him from this side. Ezra stood one hand on the pommel and one on the scabbard. His left arm was shaking, vibrating really. They came at him slowly saying “Easy now boy we just want your goods, not your life. The choice is yours.” Ezra’s answer was to draw the glowing sword from it’s sheath. Gripping it with both hands. The glow became a brilliant white hot light, Bathing the area as if it was midday. Ezra’s arms were shaking, he was starting to lose control, they were starting to glow. The two men fell back, a look of disbelief drawn across their faces. “Can’t be” they managed to blurt out, “Truth bringer!” They turned and ran. Luckily for Ezra they ran east.

Ezra was still struggling to control what was happening to him, he felt so strong, so powerful. Larger somehow. With a focused effort he drove the sword into the dirt, burying it nearly to the guard. The cold earth sizzled and steamed. Ezra let loose the pommel, his breath coming in heaves. The feeling faded some but didn’t disappear completely. After a bit he was able to pull the sword from the ground, wiping it clean with the old blanket. Which he then threw away. He then unconsciously sheathed the sword and belted it on. Hiding it no longer. At the crossroads he headed north, again without a seconds thought.

The next evening saw the two men telling tall tales in a tavern, a day’s walk to the east. A large silent man listened from his stool at the end of the bar. When he had heard enough he rose, his leathers creaking. He towered over those around him, gaining many a look. He paid and left. Gathering his equally large horse, he mounted and headed west.