The city was burning. Datrean defenders were sporadic and shrinking in number with every moment. Chaos ruled the city. The Brinn pillaged and looted with a frenzy. Before, I would have been eager to meet them and drive them off.
But not now.
Malinda still clung to Erjed’s back and throwing my little girl into that violence without good reason was out of the question. Every confrontation was a risk to her, so we steered clear of them as best we could. We snuck through alleys and avoided the sounds of battle. We stumbled onto other civilians fleeing toward the palace, just like us. Erjed joined them, but we stood out in the panicking crowds. Everyone who caught a glimpse of me gaped and envied the man wielding me.
“Let me hold the sword for you, Jed.” One of Erjed’s fellow shovelers had rejoined our retreat. “You’re carrying the girl. You can’t expect to swing that thing like that.”
“I’ll manage.” Erjed shrugged him away and ran faster. “Demons below, everyone can’t stop looking at you.”
“What does the talking sword look like?” Malinda whispered. “Please, Papa, I want to know.”
“Well…” Erjed glanced down at me. “It is long.”
She sighed in exasperation. “Lots of swords are long, Papa.”
“It has a black hilt in the shape of the Great Dragon Limeesi. Adorned in rubies”
“Pretty!”
“The blade itself is white as bone.”
“White? Aren’t swords gray? Did I forget my colors again?”
“No, sweet thing. You’re right. It is a strange color for a sword.”
She was right. I was too distinctive.
“Conceal me. The attempts to take me from you will only get worse.”
Erjed had a sooty apron from his work. He hid me under it as best he could.
“You sound nice, sword,” Malinda was murmuring. “Handsome and smart like a big brother. I’m going to name you Brother Tooth.”
“The sword already has a name, child.”
“What is it?”
Erjed paused, at a loss. “They etched it into the blade, but you know I can’t read.”
For some reason, I didn’t want Malinda to know the name that my father gave me. “Tell her Brother Tooth is fine.”
Her father scoffed. “But why tooth?”
“He has a mouth!”
I laughed. “I am white.”
Malinda was giggling. “I’m good at naming things.”
“She is. I like it very much. Please tell her—.” we turned a street corner and there was the Brinn, ransacking a home. They were focused on dragging a woman and her two children out into the street. Our little group could slip away without them noticing.
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“We have to help them. I can handle that many.”
“Absolutely not!” Erjed hissed. “I won’t take that risk with Malinda on my back!”
“You shouldn’t argue with Brother Tooth, Papa. He’s a sword. He knows way more about fighting than us.”
“Helping people is not our priority. Keeping you safe is.”
“Mama says helping people is always important,” she said stubbornly. “I will be safe. Brother Tooth will protect me.”
“I will honor that trust.”
“Well, I don’t trust you,” Erjed grumbled, but he was already charging toward the Brinn.
I slaughtered them, as quietly as I could because I so desperately didn’t want Malinda to hear the terrible song of my carnage.
I must have done pretty well. When it was over, Malinda furrowed her brows. I could almost imagine the confusion in the eyes that should have been there. “Are they all dead?”
“Yes, sweet thing. They are.”
“Brother Tooth did all that?”
Erjed was offended. “I did some of it!”
“Oh?” I scoffed. “And what precisely was your contribution to my fights?”
“You need my body to do your work, sword. Hold your tongue.”
“I don’t have a tongue to hold.”
Malinda giggled. “Papa, I’m sure you look silly when you argue with a sword.”
Perhaps he did. The family we had just saved didn’t care. They joined our retreat toward the palace.
One cleansed house turned into another and then another. More and more survivors flocked to us. Our strange, but growing crowd fleeing toward the palace made for a strange last bastion for Datrea, but there was hope in the air. I could taste it. With each street, we got closer to escape.
And then, at last, we saw it.
The Palace of Songs was carved into the stone of the mountain on which the whole city teetered. I could hear the stone songs that had made it. They were ancient and glorious songs, still untouched by the destruction of the Brinn.
The marble promenade leading to its white steps sang clearest. We followed the intricate mosaic sprawling up to the grand entrance and I heard the songs of the craftsmen who had done such majesty, so very long ago.
Erjed’s fear brought me back to the present. People were already crowding the stairway leading to the entrance, but no one was entering.
The doors were closed.
Erjed looked back. A horde of Brinn was just starting to swarm up the promenade behind us. “We have nowhere to run!”
He was right. For what I assumed were security reasons, this promenade was the only street to the palace.
If the palace didn’t let us enter, everyone would be trapped.
Erjed shouldered through the crowds up the stairs. “Let me through! Let me through! I can get us in!”
It was a writhing mass of pushing and shoving and shouting, but those who heard him let him pass. Eventually, finally, after so long, we were at the entrance of the palace.
The door was a masterwork of obsidian and black steel and gold, inlaid with white jade and moonstone. I could hear their songs; they were mathematically precise, perfect even. A choir of stone, fire, and steel bound it all together to depict winged angels falling to demons down below.
I prayed I would not have to deface it to get inside.
“Open the door!” Erjed looked back to see the rear of the crowd start to be cut down by the Brinn’s red fang blades. “We are of Datrea! Please! Give us sanctuary from the Brinn!”
No one opened it.
Erjed banged on the door; it didn’t budge. “Listen! I hold the last sword of First Steelsinger Daened! The greatest blade our forges ever will make! Let us in!”
Suddenly, from beyond the door, someone began to sing.
I had been born to the sound of steelsong. They had been songs of making, songs that build and protect and maintain.
This… this was a song of death. Every verse, every note, beautiful and intricate though they were, imparted one mandate.
“Die.”
The Brinn approaching crumpled lifelessly to the floor.
And so did Erjed.
I felt his life be ripped from my grasp, drained away by something through the door. It was as swift as it was excruciating. Through the pain of our sudden separation, I used the last of my command over his body to force him to fall forward. I would ensure the last act Erjed ever did was break his daughter’s fall. He would have liked that.
Malinda shrieked as we both fell. She landed on her dead father and I landed on the marble steps on which he lay.
Then the doors opened.
Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate all the support I have gotten during the transition to move this story to Royal Road. Do tell me what you think! I love comments and often respond to them
I will be posting a chapter every day until July 30, 2025. Make sure to follow the story and come back to read more!
Who is better at naming swords?
