Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 3 of 86

Morning light woke Zach. His hand ached from gripping the sword all night. He tried to lift it now and the blade wobbled. His fingers slipped on the hilt. He could not hold it steady, let alone swing it. A knock came at the door. Raven leaned in, her cat ears pricked forward. "My father wants you," she said. "Now." She looked at the sword in his shaking grip and frowned. "Can you even hold that thing?" "Barely," Zach admitted. She led him up the spiral stair to the top of the great trunk. Homes clung to every branch. Bridges swayed under crossing feet. At the highest room waited the King. He was stocky, gray-bearded, with cat ears like his daughter and a crown pressed low on his head. He studied Zach the way a man studies a stray dog. "So," the King said. "You pulled the sword." He did not rise. "Show me." Zach lifted the blade. It shook in his hand and dipped toward the floor. The King's eyes narrowed. "The sword chose you," the King said. "It made its own portal and reached across worlds to find you. It does nothing without reason." He leaned forward. "A thousand years ago we sealed a sorcerer named Maximus Darkthorne. Now his power grows. The three-eyed monsters are his. The sword woke because he woke." Zach's grip tightened. "I just want to go home." "That is not up to me," the King said. "It is up to the sword. It brought you here to end Darkthorne. Defeat him, and it may open the way back. Refuse, and you may stay forever." The words landed hard. Zach looked at the trembling blade. His path home ran straight through a war he never chose. He had to learn to wield it or die in the first fight. Raven stepped forward. "Father. I'm going with him." The King's ears flattened. "You are my daughter. Not a soldier." "The monsters attacked me in our own forest," she said. "He killed one to save me. I won't sit in a tree and wait." The King stared at her a long moment. Then he sighed and turned back to Zach. "You cannot hold the blade because you fight it. It is not steel to force. It is a partner. Stop squeezing. Let it settle in your hand." Zach loosened his grip. He breathed out. He stopped fighting the weight. The sword shifted, then steadied. The point rose clean off the floor and held there, still as glass. He stared at it. For the first time the blade felt like part of his arm. "Good," the King said. "Now you can begin." He waved a hand. "Go. The kingdom already knows a stranger holds the sword. Some will help you. Some will hunt you before you ever reach Darkthorne." Zach lowered the steady blade. He could hold it now. But the whole kingdom knew his name, and not all of them wished him well.