The Journey

Chapter 2 - The Pond

     Drip, Drip, Drip... Water drips from a leaky water pipe above Raj's head. The water was annoying, yet its repetitiveness is what kept him sane. He lay, pondering what had happened and its implications... Why would his grandfather give him a sword of such reputation? Why not just give it to his father, at least he is a soldier (his father was on a quick leave for the funeral), surely he would have more use for it than Raj! For all those hours training with his grandfather, he questioned what was the purpose of his training. Sure, he loved spending time with Joe, but most people in the same relationship would ride horses, tell tall tales, or maybe even farm together, but not them.

     Even with all of the mystery clouding Raj's future, only one path seemed to have a clear result. He would go to the garden (his grandfather's favorite hiding spot) and see if the sword was to be found, if not, he would announce this to his family, if he found it... He really didn't know what would come next. Raj was brought to a hard decision, he could either wait for daybreak, in which he could look for the sword without risking getting caught by his parents sneaking out of bed, or look for it now, take the risk, but have less of a chance of some greedy cousin following him.

     Finally, his logical side overcame his fear of his parents and the belt they wielded. Raj slid out of his straw mattress bed, and opened his window. The night was crystal clear, fog gathering on the horizon, grass wet with early morning dew, and night predators making their final catches before going back to sleep. His family, though farmers, wouldn't probably wake up yet, it was Summer, so there was really nothing to farm. He crouched, slid out the window, and landed on the grass (he was situated on the first floor).

     Pressed for time, he ran across the grass barefoot, and into the fields, later on, he would regret his decision of not running downstairs to grab sandals. Little bits of corn that had escaped the bite of the scythe pricked his feet, making little cuts and marks. After less than an hour of running through the beautiful night, he was at his destination. A small garden cared for by his grandfather in his final years, it truly was a sight to behold, sporting tall sugar cane plants, a deep blue pond in the central, and little frogs swimming in the pond. The cheerful chirp of cicadas surrounded him as he gasped, catching sight of a magnificent blade in the center of the pond. Any doubt in his grandfather fled him, this was a Slade blade, what some commoners thought were solely myths lay in the center of Joe's pond. Molten Gold trails flitted around the inside of the blade, looking like little fairies trapped inside the taker of life.

     Amazed, Raj put his little toe inside of the water, testing the temperature. He pulled back the toe faster than he had put it in, the water was freezing! He wondered what to do about the predicament, but only one solution came to him, he would have to dive in. Now, the pond wasn't that large, but it was still admittedly deep (at least it seemed to Raj at that age). It was at least seven meters in diameter and four meters deep. While Raj and his grandfather had gone swimming a few times, it was not at night, and they had only gone on the hottest of days, so the pond was pleasantly warm. Nature not yielding to him these courtesies, he took a deep breath, and dived in.

     He exhaled as soon as the frigid water touched his body, he scrambled for the top of the pond, clawing for a purchase on the ground. He shook his head, scrambling the loose water particles that had assembled upon his wild mane. He took the largest breath his lungs permitted him, and dove in for one last attempt. The icy depths stung his skin and numbed his fingers, but he dove deep enough for him to search the bottom of the pond, finally grasping the hilt of the sword and (thankfully) accidentally finding the blade's sheath. He re-aligned himself so that his feet were facing the ground, and pushed up, gasping for oxygen when his face hit the surface.'

     Relieved that he had retrieved his weapon, he sheathed it, strapped it to his belt, and started his way back home. As he approached his house, he heard a rooster crow, and was blinded momentarily by the sun rising above the horizon. He used the stealth skill set Joe had given him, and sneaked up into his room, hiding the sword beneath his mattress. He had barely lain down when his mother knocked on his door and told him to wake up. He sighed, and was about to slip his sandals on for a long, tired day of whatever chores his parents put out for him, when he realized that his feet were cut up from crossing the corn fields. He exhaled audibly once more and started to formulate an excuse for his messed-up feet.