Dawn of the Epoch

Chapter XXXIV - Enter the Dahjaat

“The Aempyrean Tribe draws energy from the sun, as you just did. Beams of energetically charged solar wind particles constantly beat themselves against the Earth’s magnetic field. A few of them escape into our atmosphere. You, Hunter, can summon their energy, force it through the field, use it to increase your body mass, and become Dahjaat.”

“Son of a gun. It’s incredible. Tiyana! Check this out!” Hunter spread his arms wide and showed off his giant physique.

Tiyana’s jaw had dropped at the explosion. She had not quite picked it back up yet.

“Now for the tools of your trade.” Virgil’s voice echoed off of the many columns. Hunter still could not tell where it came from.

“First, the swords.” Virgil said.

In front of Hunter, a cloud of smoke burst from the ground. As it faded, Hunter saw two long, thin, straight, lustrous blades with simple black handles. They had small, circular cross-guards and lacked a pommel at the end of the grip. They looked much like Japanese katanas, but without the curvature. He took a few steps forward and picked them up.

“Okay, what are these things?”

“Weapons Hunter. Learn to wield them. These are made of a zirconium-iridium based alloy invented by one of the renowned metallurgists of the Aldenduenum. They were forged by the Dahjaat known once as Hephaestus.”

Hunter held the swords out reverently. He slashed the air clumsily a few times. The blades felt light, yet sturdy.

“I could get used to these. They are so light though.” Hunter said.

“Actually they are quite heavy. You have grown stronger. These blades will cut diamonds if you need them to. Their edges are made from wurtzite-crystal boron nitride.” Virgil said this as if it meant something profound, but the words meant very little to Hunter.

“Are you getting all of this, sweetheart?” He called out to Tiyana.

“No one has actually created the single-crystal form of boron nitride, but, theoretically, it is the hardest substance in existence, harder than diamonds.” Tiyana called out.

She met his gaze and shrugged her shoulders.

“Awesome.” Hunter practically whispered.

At that moment, Hunter lost touch with the adult in him. He became a kid again holding the first pocket knife that his parents allowed him to have. He gripped the blades tightly with eager curiosity.

“Can we start?” He asked softly.

Virgil’s voice answered, “Not yet.”

With another burst of smoke, Hunter saw two straps of black fabric. Small throwing knives with flowing, patterned blades appeared sheathed in the fabric. They were made from single pieces of metal and had no other material surrounding their grips.

“Damascus Steel.” Said Virgil. “I passed the secret down about seventeen hundred years ago, but, sadly, it was lost in the Dark Ages. Such a shame. Here are their partners.”

With another blast of smoke, a pair of boomerangs appeared with similar patterns. Hunter picked up the straps and flung them around his torso.

“What about those?” He asked, pointing to the boomerangs.

“Just tuck them into your robe for the time being.” Came the answer.

Hunter eyed the sharp crystal edges warily and tucked them into the waistband of the robe.

“Nice.” He said.

“Don’t forget the coup de grâce.” Said Virgil.

Another smoke cloud dissipated, leaving a patterned Bowie knife on the ground. It sat sheathed in another band of fabric.