Sword from the Sky

Sword from the Sky - Chapter Eight

THE FALLEN JUBAHN

THE BOY STOOD STIFFLY LIKE A LIFELESS TOY SOLDIER, ready to test, eager to take the path that would lead him towards his final blade. Luca would finally become a man—no longer a jubahn, but a servantu, a true Davinian, a servant of order, of charity, and of peace in arms. It would be a baptism of the sword, a rebirth for the boy with the wooden leg, and Luca stood standing, patiently waiting for his transformation.

His friends had already tested and passed, the last one being Luleh of Heatheranla, who had just finished with her forms. Luca watched as Siel awarded Luleh her Rasplendur, or seventh blade, that which makes one a Davinian Blademaster. Her new glorious blade gleamed against the rays of the sun peeking in from the never-ending windows adorning the glamorous hall. Luca looked on with admiration.

All of the sixth blades had been called. Luca was the last one to test, and it was to be his turn next. He glanced towards his friends, who stared back at him with smiles matching the excitement in the room, and everyone else in the crowd had their eyes on Luca as well, for they knew that the boy with the wooden leg was about to become a Servantu, something that was truly a remarkable accomplishment. All were excited...all except one.

Luca turned to the black bird on its massive perch and saw it cutting him down with its stare. There was uncertainty in the Mor’s eyes, and Prebansa stared at the boy for the longest time, as if it pondered whether it should call Luca’s name or not. Young Luca’s disposition began to turn, and like a runaway train, thoughts invaded his mind—of his mother, of his wooden leg, and of the beast of a lady that had come to claim him as her own. A cloud of unknown fogged his focus, and he was unsure of what the future would bring.

And right when he felt most vulnerable, it came: a voice lingering in and out of the invisible.

Luca, sweet boy. Yes, Luca the cripple, listen to us! You can be a sovereign, a king! Come with us to the sunless land!

But then the voice left as quickly as it came. Luca snapped out of his trance and thought nothing of the voice except for something bordering on the imaginary.

At last, the bird let out a scream, and Siel, being the only one to understand the bird’s noise, stood up and spoke, “Prince Lucanah bal Bune, you are called to test.” Smiles reigned throughout the hall.

Everyone watched as Luca made his way to the ceremonial ring in the middle of the hall. Reaching the center, he stopped and took his stance.

“Begin with your forms,” Siel said.

Outside, unexpectedly, thunder crashed against the distant clouds, and everyone in the hall was taken aback by its ferocious timing. Luca found it fitting to begin his first movement on the heels of that bursting sound. His first movement could not have been executed more precisely, and when he turned to complete his second movement, only his focus could have been superior to his skills. And on to the third and to the fourth and the fifth—perfect, perfect, perfect! Luca felt something inside him that he had never felt before, something unseen, something powerful and inhuman, like a brilliant warm light swimming inside his veins.

All of his forms were coming together, and wide grins bloomed across the faces of the souls surrounding him, most especially, his father. As he neared his final movements, it was becoming evident that Luca possessed skills above the average Davinian. He looked to the crowd and saw only their elated stares matching his gaze. He was proud of his achievements and felt happy to finally be rewarded for them.

But then he turned to Prebansa and saw something different. The Mor’s eyes were callous, and in them he saw pity. But why? Why did the Mor pity him when everything seemed so right? The Mor turned his eyes away from Luca and set them on the rays of the sun peeking in through one of the corner windows in the hall, but this did not trouble Luca. Only one more form to go.