Read Online Spellscribed Tales: First Refrain by Kristopher Cruz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kristopher Cruz
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they tended to get buried with them.
As Joven walked among hundreds of years of his family's history, he could easily see from any point in the room the only weapon that did not follow that rule. In the back of the room, opposite of the entryway, was the Inheritance.
The bipennis axe was given to the Guardians by the first Spengur himself. Though his name was lost to time, the weapon had developed the tradition of being named after the last one to die wielding it, but simply referred to as the Inheritance by others. The haft was crafted of dark wood, stained from pommel to head with blood so many times, it seemed black in the dim light. The handle was wrapped in thick leather straps carved with ancient barbarian letters. The axe head was some kind of milky white steel, whose crafting technique was unknown to any member of the family. The face of one side of the axe head was carved in a relief of a hundred barbarian warriors at the ready, while the other bore the same one hundred warriors lying dead of terrible wounds. A white steel spike adorned the top of the axe head, making it a weapon of many talents.
Joven had grown up hearing stories about the things that someone could do with that axe. He’d heard of warriors cleaving through men in plate armor, chopping through dragon scales, and shattering any weapon that got in their way. He’d also been told about the dangers of the axe. While powerful, the owner was in no way invincible. In fact, every single wielder of the Inheritance had inevitably died in battle holding it.
Joven was brave, but he was not yet brave enough to take up the Inheritance. Besides, his father had taken it up a few times during the Bloodfrost rebellion. And his mother would outright murder him for trying to walk out of the house with it.
Joven ended up collecting a battle axe, mace, shortsword, several throwing knives, since they were more portable, and a number of other weapons with varying degrees of utility. He decided against a long blade, and stopped at his room to bring the broken pieces of his old weapon to his mother..
Joven walked back into the kitchen and handed it over to her. Leona started looking over his old broken bastard sword. The blade still attached to the handle was barely 4 inches long, snapped near the dull portion of the edge.
"Joven." She said, focused on the broken edges of the sword. "Did you lock blades with him during the match?"
She was referring to when two swordsmen would push against each other by locking their swords together by the guard. Joven thought back. "No." He replied. There were a few moments when we pushed off each other's swords, but it never slid into a lock."
Leona frowned. "Then did you run into any other swordsmen that locked with you before the match?"
Joven scowled. "No. What's this about?"
Leona held up the broken handle, staring into the jagged broken edge. "Because there's some damage to the blade I can't account for."
"Mom," Joven replied. "I exchanged blows with Korvos for over five minutes. You can't possibly account for every time our weapons clashed."
Leona rolled her eyes, still examining the sword. "You keep telling yourself that, honey. There's some scratches along the blade near where it broke that didn't match any of the hits on your weapons. Didn't you inspect the weapon before you went to the match?"
Joven nodded. "I went over my weapons the night before. Everything was pristine and oiled."
Leona looked up at him, irritation on her face. "Then the blade must have been sabotaged."
Joven blinked, confused. "Cheating?" Joven asked. "It's not like Korvos to cheat."
Leona looked Joven in the eyes. “The house was locked up last night. No one could have gotten in without..." she said, her voice hardening.
Joven felt a brief moment of panic, remembering when that voice meant he was about to get into serious trouble.
"Uh..." Joven muttered, trying to change mental tracks. "Talen spoke to me last night before he
As Joven walked among hundreds of years of his family's history, he could easily see from any point in the room the only weapon that did not follow that rule. In the back of the room, opposite of the entryway, was the Inheritance.
The bipennis axe was given to the Guardians by the first Spengur himself. Though his name was lost to time, the weapon had developed the tradition of being named after the last one to die wielding it, but simply referred to as the Inheritance by others. The haft was crafted of dark wood, stained from pommel to head with blood so many times, it seemed black in the dim light. The handle was wrapped in thick leather straps carved with ancient barbarian letters. The axe head was some kind of milky white steel, whose crafting technique was unknown to any member of the family. The face of one side of the axe head was carved in a relief of a hundred barbarian warriors at the ready, while the other bore the same one hundred warriors lying dead of terrible wounds. A white steel spike adorned the top of the axe head, making it a weapon of many talents.
Joven had grown up hearing stories about the things that someone could do with that axe. He’d heard of warriors cleaving through men in plate armor, chopping through dragon scales, and shattering any weapon that got in their way. He’d also been told about the dangers of the axe. While powerful, the owner was in no way invincible. In fact, every single wielder of the Inheritance had inevitably died in battle holding it.
Joven was brave, but he was not yet brave enough to take up the Inheritance. Besides, his father had taken it up a few times during the Bloodfrost rebellion. And his mother would outright murder him for trying to walk out of the house with it.
Joven ended up collecting a battle axe, mace, shortsword, several throwing knives, since they were more portable, and a number of other weapons with varying degrees of utility. He decided against a long blade, and stopped at his room to bring the broken pieces of his old weapon to his mother..
Joven walked back into the kitchen and handed it over to her. Leona started looking over his old broken bastard sword. The blade still attached to the handle was barely 4 inches long, snapped near the dull portion of the edge.
"Joven." She said, focused on the broken edges of the sword. "Did you lock blades with him during the match?"
She was referring to when two swordsmen would push against each other by locking their swords together by the guard. Joven thought back. "No." He replied. There were a few moments when we pushed off each other's swords, but it never slid into a lock."
Leona frowned. "Then did you run into any other swordsmen that locked with you before the match?"
Joven scowled. "No. What's this about?"
Leona held up the broken handle, staring into the jagged broken edge. "Because there's some damage to the blade I can't account for."
"Mom," Joven replied. "I exchanged blows with Korvos for over five minutes. You can't possibly account for every time our weapons clashed."
Leona rolled her eyes, still examining the sword. "You keep telling yourself that, honey. There's some scratches along the blade near where it broke that didn't match any of the hits on your weapons. Didn't you inspect the weapon before you went to the match?"
Joven nodded. "I went over my weapons the night before. Everything was pristine and oiled."
Leona looked up at him, irritation on her face. "Then the blade must have been sabotaged."
Joven blinked, confused. "Cheating?" Joven asked. "It's not like Korvos to cheat."
Leona looked Joven in the eyes. “The house was locked up last night. No one could have gotten in without..." she said, her voice hardening.
Joven felt a brief moment of panic, remembering when that voice meant he was about to get into serious trouble.
"Uh..." Joven muttered, trying to change mental tracks. "Talen spoke to me last night before he
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