The Weight of a Sword

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By: Synbios Posted on: August 31, 2012


"Do you know how heavy a sword weighs?"


"Only a few pounds, sir", I had replied to my mentor, who handed me my new longswords.


He merely laughed, said, "You don't understand the question yet, Squire" and went on his way.


"Do you know how heavy a sword weighs?"


"Only a few pounds, sir", I had replied to my mentor, after we had rescued some slaves from Maxillus's caravans.


He smiled, said, "You don't understand the question yet, Protector" and went off, taking the slaves to Pericles to be reunited with their families.


"Do you know how heavy a sword weighs?"


We had just finished putting down an undead infestation in the Azdun Crypts, shortly after I was Knighted by my peers.


I sighed, and replied, "Sir, you've asked me that question over and over again."


"You don't understand the question yet. Look into the eyes of that zombie over there."


I followed his gaze and stared at the lifeless corpse of a zombie youth, and I started. While the face was frozen due to rigor mortis, I swore that the lips were curled into a smile of gratitude.


I turned towards my mentor, but he had already left to join his unit.


I withdrew my bloody sword from my mentor's stomach. He had been captured by those Occultists and had a Chaos lord forcibly fused to him as part of their vile experiments. We mounted a rescue mission, but it was months before we could locate him. By then, the transformation was nearly complete. I had no choice but to battle him before his mind was lost to Oblivion.


Raising a mangled arm to pat me on the shoulder, I could see influence of the Chaos Lord's mutations fade from my mentor with each dying breath. A smile not unlike the one I saw on the zombie youth crept up on his face. Raising his other arm, he silently guided the point of my weapon to his chest, where his heart was. I did not resist. We knew there was no other way.


"Now, my protege, do you know how heavy a sword weighs?"


I said nothing, as I plunged the blade home.


His final words were "Thank you."


"Take these, Page. These ancient swords have served me well in my youth. Keep the mission of the Templars in your heart as you grow into a full-fledged Knight."


As the youth unsheathed the sword with difficulty, he muttered to himself, "...heavy."


I merely smiled and said, "You are beginning to understand."