Sword of Bitterness

Written and told by David Itamae

In the chaos of the void the world was being formed. As it formed the gods began a civil unrest for supremecy. Zafax the god of Peace and Promise would lead his followers against his cousin the vile god of Strife Astiphontes the originator of the war. In the struggle the world formed from the boundless energy of the gods.

Zafax growing weary of the stalemate before him created three powerful dragons to aid him in his fight. In each he bestowed great power. As the last dragon was made he sent them upon the legions of Strife. In their wake only the screams of the damned could be heard.

The dragons might was so strong that the legions of Strife fled before them. They scattered to the winds of the world only to be hunted down by the warriors of Zafax. Only the stronghold of Astiphontes remained. The guards protecting the stronghold put little resistance before falling to the talons of the mighty wyrms.

As they pounded the foundation of the stronghold Astiphontes looked in horror of his collapsing empire. The dragons closed in upon him and began to attack. As they did Astiphontes raised his arms and from his hands came the sands of change. With glee in his face he yelled words of power into the darked skys.

The sands twisted the bodies of the dragons. Scales became steel and flesh became metal. They shrunk in size and the majesty of the dragons were forever lost. In their place were three special swords. Astiphontes picked them up one by one and spoke. "Tragedy, Chaos, and Bitterness shall you be known for that is all you shall bring."

So many centuries past and the tales of the old world became forgotten. Many legends were now tales and the true meaning lost forever. Though many still sought the powers of the gods So in the search was for the three relics of Astiphontes.

In the village of Captonik a young man was being chased by a group of youths. He was running hard against the wind only blood and tears got in his way. He ran past homes, the stores and even the town moderator. He seemed to be tranced with only fear and danger. His eyes told the tale of hardship.

He finally hid near some brush seeing only if the attackers were still in persuit. Seeming safe he began to gather himself again. As he lifted his head from brush he was greeted with a punch to the face. Then as he hit the ground he could feel the kicks to his ribs. Damn they me he thought to himself.

He searched with his hands for anything around the brush. He tried to scratch the dirt just looking for a rock. Nothing was all he could find. As the kicks became more painful he tried again for his search. As he reached around he felt something cool and hard in his hand. He tried to grip it but it was stuck in the dirt wedged pretty good. He finally collapsed and his eyes grew dark.

He awoke some time later with many hurts. His head throbbed with pain as did his sides. He could feel the pressure as he tried to breathe. He slowly raised up off the ground seeing only the brush with dirt and blood mixed in. He glanced down and saw the object slightly potruding out the ground. He thought to himself well better to have something just in case they come back.

He began to tug at the object with the strength he had left. He saw it give way and he intesified himself. Finally after a few minutes he got enough out before falling to the ground. He panted and hurled but he freed the object from the hole. As he looked upon the earth he saw it was a great sword. He lifted it high in the air letting the sun gleam off the blade for the first time in what seemed to be many years.

The sword was a great wonder to his eye. Of all the smiths he had ever seen noone ever had a sword like this. He looked at the handle it seemed to be wrapped in a fine purple scaley wrap. Smooth to the touch and warm in his hand. The blade was a rich purple that gleemed ever beautiful off the sunlight. As he lifted it he felt a renewed sense of power within him.

He went and swung it arond a few times still feeling the pressure in his sides. He hurried to sit down before he collapsed when all of a sudden he didnt have to anymore. He began to get up and feel the pressure go away. His wounds seemed to almost disappear. Then at last he swung the sword freely and without hesitation. He walked abit taller that night as he went home for the first time without fear.

He came to his home finally with the biggest grin on his face. His grandmother was waiting by the doorway worried for his return. She saw him approach and hugged him greatly. She turned her sights on his arm and saw the sword and became puzzeled. She beckoned him to come inside and sit by the fire.

At last she brought back with her an old leather bound book. Inside she bagan to describe old legends and then she came to the three swords. She told the tale as always with a deeper sense and meaning. Fearing her grandsons safety she told him to cast it away. He looked at her horridly only seeing the power it gave him and stepped back. He only laughed and went to his room.

He awoke the next morning with thoughts of vengence on his mind. The youths that had done this to him would pay. If indeed he did have a sword of power then he would use it to his advantage before he is made a mockery again. He grabbed the sword and headed out into the village.

He called to the top of his lungs the names of the boys who continually beat him. He cursed them and spat upon their names. He only waited a few minutes before the towns people gathered. He smiled and smirked continuing to call the boys. At last they gathered carrying sticks and weapons found in a back alley way. They called back finally and soon they were all hudled in the middle.

The youg man holding the sword began to swing it wildly. He approached the boys who had now surrounded him. The bagan to swing the sticks and edged metal objects they had. He laugherd at their pathitic attack and still swung the sword around in big arcs. He cut the boys around him. Then suddely he finally struck one in the chest.

The sword seemed to lick the blood from the wound and pull it into itself. The boy screamed violently as his life force became drained. The youth could not pull the sword from the chest until it had its fill of spirit. At last the sword was free and again wild swings. At last the boys all fell each with life force pulled in the blade. Once this was complete the sword released intothe youth the hatred of his enemies. Like a spreading poison it moved up his arm and into his eyes.

The eyes glared an unnatural hatred the eyes seeming blood ridden as the sword in hand scared the villagers. So much so they ran away quickly. Upon hearing the comotion the guards rushed forward some riding steeds while others running after. Seeing the dead youths and witnesses giving statments the guards ran to seize the youth. As he turned he fled the city

He ran to again away from everyone he sped past the plains and the forrest. He came to the river bed and sat down. his eyes full of hate. looking at the water far below the cliffs he smiled. He looked around and began to run some more. He looked around and remembered an outpost some days away so he thougt he'd start there.

Suddenly an arrow pierced his chest. Then another. Staggering back he grinned. As he lifted his head he saw 4 soldiers come from out the shadows. Sweinging his sword arm wide he missed the more experenced men. They began to cut at him slicing him widely. He moved back at the pace of the men, facing only the cliff. He looked down and began to swing but the arm was pierced with another blade. The sword now fell to the rocks below.

With no arm and no weapon the wounds on the young man began to open up once more. As the blood dripped to the ground it fizzed like na acid. The guards hacked away at the youth until at last there was nthing left. His carcuss was thrown in the river and washed away.

The guards went back tot he village and apprehended his grandmother. As a local custom if misdeeds could not be punished by the guilty party then their next of kin would suffer in their place. So they bound up the grandmother and hung her by a tree. Of the sword they know not as hard as they searched it was never found. again.