“All of the Arach weapons - won, bought, found, and passed down for generations - are kept here,” she said. “Many have come from battle. Some have spells of health or healing, battle frenzy or strategy laid on them. Some are more powerful than that. It is your time to choose.” Her last words echoed around the room, gradually fading away.
“How do I choose, Lady?” he asked. He very much feared he would make a mistake.
“Use your eyes and listen to your gut. Feel.” she answered.
Thomas’s gaze roamed along the walls, thinking about all of the lives that these weapons had taken over the years, the centuries. He pressed his own lips together in a thin line. As he waited, he began to quiver inside as the weight of time and agony and death wove their menace into his awareness.
He shook his head, trying to dispel his disquiet. He centered himself again and stood quietly.
Slowly, slowly, he recognized a pull toward the left side of the room. He moved toward the attraction with hesitant steps. He raised his arm and allowed his fingers to lightly touch each of the weapons as he moved carefully along the wall. Sword after sword passed under his fingertips.
He’d almost reached the end of the room when he felt heat on his fingers. His mouth went dry and his stomach clenched with excitement and dread. His hand moved without his thinking to grasp the hilt of a sword at least eight hand spans long - longer and heavier than any he had ever used. The blade rested on a rack above its scabbard.
Carefully he lifted it from its place among these weapons of war.
A graceful extension of the guard curved from the left quillon to a Dragon’s eye stone mounted in the Dragon claw pommel. The grip was wrapped in finest deep brown deer hide. Steel gleamed in magelight. For a moment he thought he saw runes light along the fuller in that gleam. A shiver ran up his arm. Certainty filled his mind and heart. This is mine! He grinned fiercely and thrust the sword to full extension. Its balance was perfect. Recovering, he turned toward Lady Aeden, the sword raised in front of his face in salute.
A deep thrumming sound filled the room.
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