Lucky

Chapter 9

Deaglan swung the sword in front of him as if he were in the midst of battle. He gripped it with two hands – despite the fact that it was a single-handed blade – and chopped up and then down. He shuffled his feet forward, and then quickly back. He dodged to the left, and then to the right. He brought the sword over his head and then swung it down with all his might --

"What are you doing?" Kaie scolded. She hadn't stopped walking, choosing to glance over her shoulder as she spat her venom.

"Nothing," Deaglan said sheepishly. He quickly stood up straight and fell in beside Kaie as she powered on ahead. "I've just never held an actual sword before. It feels different to what I would have thought." Still holding the sword, Deaglan lifted the blade in front of him to get a better look.

It was a simple sword, even by sword standards. The blade was about three inches thick and ran parallel to the point. The metal was a dull steel, the grip was hard and wrapped in soft leather and the length was not much more than a dagger. Despite this simplicity, Mac Germait could not have been clearer in his desire for Deaglan to not have the weapon at all.

"You are only to use this if absolutely necessary," he had told Deaglan when he first gave him the sword. "And even then, try not to actually use it. Sometimes the flash of steel is enough to cower a man."

"Yes, yes," Deaglan had said as he eagerly reached for the sword.

Mac Germait held it out of reach, frowning as he looked from the sword to Deaglan. He seemed to think that Deaglan was a child, incapable of handling such a weapon. But in the end he had relented, knowing that ultimately he had no choice. He was sending Deaglan toward dangers unknown, and as Deaglan was the last hope that any of them had, he had given in.

"Just promise that you will only unsheathe it if --"

"I know, I know," Deaglan had cut in as his hand wrapped around the hilt. He had been hoping that upon holding the sword a natural instincts of sorts would take over. As if he was destined to use it. Unfortunately, it felt as alien to him as a third arm.

Mac Germait seemed to have realized this as he went to take the weapon back, only to hesitate at the last second. Instead he had turned on Kaie, asking if she required a sword.

"I'll be fine," Kaie had insisted. "My scream is better than any sword anyhow."

Ah yes, the Banshee scream. Deaglan had try to pry out of her what this was exactly, but had been unsuccessful in every attempt. Kaie seemed to hate speaking of her heritage, loathing it even. Even just then, simply mentioning her ability seemed to make her uncomfortable. Deaglan tried to catch her eye as he sheathed his sword, but she had refused to give it. Something told him that she wasn't a fan of the topic.

In a bid to find out more about the Banshee, he had actually visited the Great Library on his third day in Falias, at night after a full day of being beaten into a pulp. It was in his struggle to find what he was after that Mac Culit had come to his rescue.

"The scream is a peculiar weapon, even for an Aos Si," the grey-bearded Tuatha had responded when Deaglan had queried. "I've been told that it actually hurts them to do it."

"But it's so powerful," Deaglan had pressed. He thought back to that day in the alley where she had knocked out two Fear Gota with it.

"Powerful and dangerous," Mac Culit continued. "If a Banshee was to overexert herself with the scream, she could very well die. In fact, there are numerous instances of that happening in the past. It was such that eventually they were actually kept as slaves of sorts by the Fomorian, in chains to be unleashed in battle. They would scream until they died, taking out as many as they could – on both sides, mind you. A scream has no favorites. And more to that point...." Once Mac Culit  began to talk, he was hard to stop. "… other Aos Si tend to distrust and avoid them. They simply are too dangerous to be around."