There are stories known to the people of the Mountain of a sword with power so strong, it can bestow death on anything that it touches. The story of this magnificent sword has been passed from generations but people believed it to be just that - stories.

However, there was one lad with black hair and gray eyes that believed that the story may have something in it. He belonged to the court of the King - an apprentice to the Advisor to the King. He was to take the position if anything went wrong with the Advisor. He spent years running behind this sword - through books and scrolls written by great scholars. He pieced together information from various sources, he was adamant to bring the sword to the Kingdom, to his people.

Finding information about this weapon was no easy task, there were barely any scriptures and most scrolls from scholars were incomplete, their research incomplete due to their death.

It was said that the sword was forged with a special element found in the roots of the Tur mountain. It was said that maker of the sword succumbed so badly by its power, that it lead him to die of insanity. Therefore, there were no records of this sword, it's making or where was it hidden.

Danton Marcus put on a dark cloak and pulled the hood to his face. It was a poor attempt of disguise but this is all he had and the fact that most people in the palace did not care about him enough to remember his face. He could easily go by unnoticed - the disguise was for the people outside the palace. He had decided to visit the village in which the maker died. It seemed to be the source of all the rumors, maybe, he believed that rumors were based on some facts.

He went to the palace stables which held the malevolent creatures of dark, named the Rakh. These creatures were vicious even if their appearance seemed like that of any horse. There were black beasts, a creature of shadow with hypnotic green eyes.

His Rakh was named simply - the Beast. It was weaker than all the other Rakh, its bones protruded in odd angles, it was not well fed. It was a gift from his mentor, it was supposed to be a joke and was not supposed to live for so long. But Danton gave up all his time and resources after this creature, he had willed it to survive and it did survive.

This Rakh was the only friend Danton had.

He mounted the Beast and held onto its mane. The Beast blustered and stomped his feet, ready to please its master, waiting for his command.

"To Agyar," Danton said and the Rakh bolted. His surrounding was blurry as the beast moved in lightening speed. Mountainous terrain may be hard for other creatures, but it was easy for a Rakh.

Danton journeyed for a night and reached the village of Agyar at dawn. The village was small, comprising of ninety decent people that Danton had never met. There were poor and most of them were blacksmiths.

Danton tied his Rakh to a wooden fence of the house he had planned to visit. The house of the maker. He knocked the door softly, well aware of the fact that the inhabitants of the house were asleep. He had no idea what to expect, he had no idea who lived in this house.

"Who is it?" A voice of a young girl came from within. She sounded groggy, but Danton felt no guilt on waking her up. He was a man on a mission, he finally found a lead, he would not give up.

The wooden door opened and Danton's gray eyes widened as he gazed at a gorgeous woman he had encountered. She was younger to him by good five years, he believed. She had emerald eyes and long platinum hair till her waist. Her body curved so elegantly that Danton felt drawn to her, a pull so strong that it muddled up his thoughts.

"I believe I do not know you, sire." She looked surprised to find him standing there.

"My name is Danton Marcus. I belong to the King's palace and I have come here to seek information from you." He finally spoke, his voice soft and firm.

"I am afraid I do not have the information you seek, sire. I am only a young girl."

"It is the sword that was made by a member of your family," Danton stated bluntly, watching for her reactions. She inhaled softly, he didn't hear her but her chest movements made it evident. Her eyes widened ever so slightly and her hold on the door loosened a bit.

She knew something, at the very least. Something, that was not told to anyone. A piece of information that had passed from generations.

"I know nothing, sire. I only know that the blade was forged by my great-grandfather. He died of insanity and left little or no information in regards to the weapon." The sentence was rehearsed and she said it convincingly. But Danton knew better.

"May I come in?" Danton raised his eyebrow and took one step near her.

"I do not..." she hesitated, "Yes, sire."

She opened the door wider to let him in. He took a step inside and the scent of something sweet hit his senses. The smell was intoxicating and made him feel dizzy. Did she smell like that?

"Tea, sire?" She asked and her voice brought him to his senses. He looked at her, his heart thudding, he could hear it. He nodded in response and then took a seat closer to the fire. The night was cold.

"Tell me about your great-grandfather." He asked.

She smiled as she came towards him to set the kettle on the fire for the water to boil. She kneeled down in front of him and the shadows of the dancing flame made her even more beautiful. Her skin was creamy and he wondered how soft it was to touch.

"There is nothing to tell, really, sire," she said. "Nothing that you may not already know."

"He was a wanderer, my great-grandfather. He was born into a family of blacksmiths but he did not like it. He did not want to be a blacksmith, so he left his family, he left everyone to wander into the Mountains. No one in the village heard of him for years. It was fifteen years later, when he returned, there was a strange glint in his eyes apparent. I, only know rumors,sire. He also carried a strange parcel with him, something that he held close to his chest. He told the villagers that he wanted to correct his mistake, that he wanted to go back to being a blacksmith. He had realized that he had been stupid, it took him fifteen years!" She laughed, the sound was melodious.

"The villagers believed him," she continued and her voice held him captive, "They gave him a small hut and the head blacksmith welcomed him with open arms. He worked day and night and everything resumed to normalcy. It was strange, though, he stayed unmarried for a long time. It was as if no woman caught his interest. After six years of remaining in his village, when he was celebrating his forty years of living, he announced that he wanted to marry my great-grandmother, she was only fifteen."

"How old are you?" Danton interrupted.

"I am fifteen, sire." She looked at him quizzically.

He looked at the fire, he could hear the steam rushing from the nozzle of the kettle. Soon, they would hear a whistling sound.

"Continue."

"My great-grandmother told my grandmother that before that day, she had never noticed that the man was interested in her. It was pleasing and surprising at the same time. He had become quite a favorite in the village, with his tales of wanderings liked by both children and men. They married happily and within two years, he retired from his work as a blacksmith. He got income from a goat he had bought with his savings. She gave good milk. However, every night he went from his house to work on this gift that he was making for my great-grandmother. He told that he will give it to her when she gave him a child."

"It was the sword made of whatever he had found while wandering."

"Yes, sire. My grandmother was born after three years of their marriage. Most of the villagers thought of my great-grandmother to be barren, but she knew she was not. After a lot of praying and healing, my grandmother was born."

"Did he give her the gift?"

"Yes, sire. He gave her the gift and when the sword touched her, it seems that it drained the life out of my great-grandmother. She grew pale and her skin withered, it was almost as if she was decaying from the inside."

"What did your great-grandfather do?"

"He stood there horrified clutching onto my grandmother who was only a few days old. Then he gave my grandmother to the midwife, grabbed the sword and ran away. No one followed behind him, they thought he was grieving."

Danton leaned forward. His mind had formed a question while listening to the tale. He could smell her sweet scent but he chose to ignore it, he was intrigued.

"Did he touch it with his bare hands?"

"I do not know, sire. This is all I learned from my grandmother who learned it from the midwife."

"But you told me that when you great-grandmother touched the sword, it looked as if her life drained out from her. Yet, when he touched it, nothing happened."

"Yes, I believe so, sire."

"Interesting."

"But this is a tale told so often. Surely, you knew it, sire."

Danton remained quiet as he pondered over his theory. It had been in the back of his mind for long but after listening to the tale, he was convinced. If only he could prove it.

"Is there nothing else?" He asked out aloud, even though the question was meant for him. The kettle had whistled, yet in his daze, he had not heard. He didn't even notice when the girl moved away from him towards a place she may call her kitchen to pour him some tea.

"Nothing, sire."

"Did he ever return?" He asked.

"Three years later with nothing. He did not even seem to remember that his wife had given him a child. He did not recognize my grandmother or anyone for that matter."

"When did he die?"

"Within a year after him returning."

"He said nothing?"

"I do not know, sire." She handed him the cup, her hands trembled a little as he held her gaze. Could she be feeling the same thing as him? He stood up abruptly and the tea fell on their feet. She gasped loudly and started apologizing.

"I should go."

"Oh yes, sire. I am so sorry. I can be careless, sometimes." She told him.

"Do tell me, what is your name?"

"Estelle Knightey, sire." She responded as she straightened her back and looked at him with her mesmerizing emerald eyes that could suck his soul.

"I wish you luck, Estelle. Thank you for everything."