Family Heirloom

Langley had little reason to fear for Crystal.  The girl could take care of herself.  She slipped off from the crew as they milled about outside the dry-dock, debating on where to go to spend their wages.  No one really noticed her leaving and she was quickly swallowed up by the winding streets that tried in vain to appear respectable.  Her hair was a dull brown and her scrawny appearance and bright but tattered dress made her look like any other waif that wandered the streets.  She hummed as the walked.

Bastion was divided into distinct sections.  There was port-side where the dry-docks, harbors, and taverns resided.  Residential areas were scattered across the city and were divided along income, although the desert islands had a small settlement there where their nationality clustered together.  The governmental section was near the northern part of the town.  There were three shopping districts: the free market that featured mostly traveling merchants and outdoor shops, the upscale portion that was unfortunately situated a bit too close to the industry and spent a good deal of money trying to keep the soot off, and the section where a person could get mugged coming straight out of a shop.  This was also where the most interesting things could be found and where Crystal headed.

The houses were tall and crowded and seemed to lean into the street.  Most were multiple stories where the bottom was a shop and the upper levels housing.  Clotheslines were strung from the upper windows and the streets were in need of repair.  Stray cats wandered about and picked fights with the dogs.  Crystal walked down the direct middle of the street and a few people watched her for a moment before continuing along their way.  She stopped suddenly and turned her head to the side, listening.  There were voices, a cat crying somewhere, and the call of seagulls overhead.  And something else.  It wasn’t really a voice and it wasn’t really just a sound, either.  It was a call of its own, a whisper to come closer, but all without words and of everyone on the street and in the houses and shops nearby Crystal was currently the only one who could hear it.  She turned and walked directly to a shop, a squat building with a sign that had long faded and windows that were caked with grime.  She pushed the door open and let it fall behind her with a heavy thud.

The shopkeeper looked up from behind the counter as she came in.  The store contained a wide variety of items, from furniture to jewelry to pottery.  A good portion of it was stolen and so the shopkeeper watched Crystal for a moment before he was certain she wasn’t part of the local law enforcement.  They didn’t really try to shut down the local fences, anyway.  So he went back to his book, keeping half an eye on the girl in case she tried to shoplift.

Crystal stopped in the middle of the store and turned from side to side, her eyes roaming over the shelves of stuff and piles in the middle of the floor.  Finally she stopped and her eyes focused on a corner, hidden by a looming shelf and covered in shadows and dust.  Something sparkled there and she walked closer to see what the shopkeeper had so reluctantly put on sale and was trying to hide from sight.

It was a sword.  A simple straight-blade sword, about the length of a man’s arm with a straight guard and the Stormrider crest set into the base of the blade.  The pommel spread out like a fan and an oval turquoise was set into it.  The hilt was wrapped in leather and a scabbard hung next to it.  The entire thing looked very old.  No one really used broadswords or shortswords anymore – cutlasses and rapiers had taken over.  She put one hand to the guard and smiled.

“Hello,” she said, “You’ve been lonely here, haven’t you?”

The man looked up and jumped a bit when he saw Crystal standing with one hand on the sword.  Carefully he set the book down and carefully walked over to her.

“Nice piece of work, that is,” he said cautiously, “Very old.  Belonged to the Stormrider family and eventually wound up here.  You interested in it?  I can make you a good deal.”

“Awfully quiet.”

The shopkeeper shifted uncomfortably.  There was a glazed and far-away look in her eyes and tone and he was starting to wonder if she wasn’t all there.

“Good quality sword.  Make a nice decoration if you don’t fight.”

“Langley might like it.”

The man leaped on that opening like any good salesman.

“Yes ma’am!  It’d also make a great gift.  And I said I’d even make you a deal.  How about you get that thing down and bring the scabbard too and I’ll ring you up at the counter.”

He scurried over.  Crystal took her time getting the sword down and gingerly held the weapon with both hands, looking down at it.  She rocked back and forth for a moment, on her heels, and the shopkeeper watched her nervously.  After a moment she grew still and took the scabbard and sheathed it.  Brought it over to the counter.  After a moment of confusion with her belt pouch the shopkeeper took over counting out her money for her.  He hesitated a moment as his morals tried to decide whether or not to cheat her and he eventually counted out the correct amount.  The girl may be insane but she was getting rid of that sword for him.

“Right glad to see that thing go,” he said in relief after the transaction was done, “Been bad for business.  Makes people nervous.  Makes me nervous.  Don’t know why.”

“It’ll be fine now,” she said, “Langley is a Stormrider.  He’ll be home then and won’t bother anyone.”’

She walked out the door and it shut with a heavy thud behind her.  The shopkeeper stared at her for a moment and wiped some sweat off his brow.

“He?” he finally said.

There was a single person outside the shop when she exited.  He looked at the sword she carried under one arm and then slipped off into an alleyway.  There was a bit of conversation, all from people that hadn’t heard the shopkeeper’s woes about keeping the weapon in his store for so long.  All they knew was that it was shiny and probably expensive.  A few moments later some men emerged and followed here down one block before spreading out.  Crystal was oblivious to it all, up until the point someone grabbed her by both shoulders and fairly threw her into the nearest dark and secluded alleyway.  This was precisely what Langley had feared but as it turned out, there was no reason to worry about Crystal.

She recovered her balance and slammed against the wall, the sword in her hands.  She opened her mouth to speak as the men gathered around, a few holding knives, and then the jewel on the pommel opened.  An eye, black pupil, blue iris, flicked back and forth between the muggers and then Crystal drew the sword and stepped away from the wall.

At that moment, in the underworld, Mihos was stirred out of his contemplation.  Something had just happened with Crystal – something he wasn’t quite sure about and something he didn’t particularly like the feel of.  He started, traced a circle and created a window into the mortal world.  There was Crystal, in an alleyway, with a sword in her hands and as he watched she stepped once and like a dancer slid the blade along a man’s throat, into another man’s stomach, and then turned and pierced the heart of a third.  They dropped to the ground and she stood poised as the rest fled for their lives.  The eye on the pommel of the sword blinked.  

“This is an interesting and unfortunate development,” Mihos murmured, banishing the window, “and I’ll not stand for it.”
He stood.  The room around him grayed out to black and a circle appeared in front of him, small wisps of green fire.  In that circle a soul manifested, a girl curled into a ball and floating in the ring of fire.  She looked at him with eyes that were not as innocent as they should be.

“Crystal,” the avatar said, “What would you have me do?”

“I don’t want to remember this.”

“It shall be done.  Clean the sword, sheathe it, and take it to Langley.  Remember nothing of what has happened or where you found the weapon.  Do not touch it.  Do not tell Langley what you know of it.  This is my will.”

“It shall be done.”  And the ring of fire vanished and with it went the soul.

Back in the alleyway the eye on the sword, seeing no one other enemy nearby, slid shut again.  Crystal stooped and carefully wiped away all the blood before sheathing the weapon again.  She walked back out into the street, the sword tucked under her arm and stopped and shivered as a chill passed over her.  And her eyes grew glazed again and she frowned in thought, as if she was trying to remember something that had happened a long time ago, and then she lost it again.  

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