Chapter 1

800 CE

The old man walked deeper into the cave; at his side was his ever-present sword, it had served him well in his life. It had called to him in his youth, promising him adventure and fame. He had both now: he was a savoir to his people, he had lived long past what was considered humanly possible, he had fought many battles with his trusty sword and now she was telling him he had one last task to do.

"Well old girl, I hope you are right about this."

In his head he could hear the sword giggle, "You have trusted me thus far, please just a little more."

He had known from the beginning the sword was greater then he, that he was just a stepping stone in its destiny; he could feel the potential in the sword that he was never able to release.

"So this is Avalon, ok I have come to the mountain now what shall I do?" When he spoke these words he could feel a sadness radiate from the sword. "Come now my lady, you have served me well, I have lived a long life, my final fate does not concern me, I've always known how things would end. If my fate has taken me to Avalon where Lord Arthur sleeps then I am proud."

He could hear the sadness in her voice as it echoed in his head. "You have been my friend for longer then a lifetime, and I shall miss you. You have always known I was not simply a sword, I shall remember you and miss you always. Now it is time to sleep my friend until we are needed again," with that, the sword imparted the knowledge of what must be done.

The warrior king spoke aloud, "Here is the sword of mercy, of the same steel as Joyeuse and Durendal, I return her to the realm from which she came, good bye my curtein." With that the old man swung the sword; smashing against the rocks in a blinding flash the sword, and man, vanished from this plane.

Elsewhere in the world

"Damn you to hell, I always knew you would be the death of me." The warrior ran, stumbling through the woods, yelling out loud to himself.

Inside his head he heard the annoyed male voice echo "Hector never bitched this much."

"And I told you from the beginning I am no Hector," the tired warrior sighed.

The voice replied, "That much is clear, he would never have tired after only running a few miles."

The warrior ignored the voice and kept running, he could now hear his pursuers. "Look, where are these lay lines? How am I supposed to get to this Avalon for this thing which you will not tell me I am to do?"

The voice sighed. "I told you before you marched to war with me that I had a task we needed to do, You ignored me AGAIN, that is why we are in the state we are in. YOU must not let these barbarians get me."

Just then, an arrow flew from the tree line hitting the warrior in his shoulder. Stumbling, the warrior turned in time to block the next arrow with his sword; with his left hand he flung a dagger into the tree line hearing the wet thump of the impact into the archer.

"Not bad. Hector would have dodged the arrow though."

Tiring, the warrior came to a clearing; he could hear water running just ahead.

The voice shouted at him, "We are near! Just over this next hill, there is a river which follows the lines, I can open a portal once we get there." The sound of running feet startled both out of their conversation, the warrior sprinted over the hill rolling down the other side toward the river.