Pallavi met Omari in the main hall. There also stood the headmaster and the king and his guard. She glanced at Omari and he knew. She bought him as much time as she could, but like they discussed in secret, now would have to be the moment she announced to the king that Omari was ready. They couldn't hold it off any longer.
She stepped forward and bowed. The king nodded and she pulled herself up to face him. With a heavy heart, Pallavi told him, "Your majesty. Omari is ready to go out onto the field."
Omari's eyes closed and he felt a pain tighten in his chest.
The king smiled, "Oh, that is wonderful to hear. We will debut him when the snow melts. The weather has currently made it troublesome to travel, so we shall wait on that."
Omari internally let out a sigh of relief. That'd at least be a couple more months away. The snow's been crazy lately, so at least he had more time bought thanks to that. The war usually wavered during the winter season anyway. No one wanted to fight in the snow.
King Elijah turned to him and hummed, "Then the Hero Omari will be ready to go when the flowers bloom."
He begrudgingly nodded and the king and his men left.
-
Omari was solemnly staring out an open window in an empty hallway, watching heavy snowfall until Tutzi came by. He was holding a potted plant that bore a strange coloration. He approached Omari and noted, "This winter's gonna be a long one."
Omari glanced at him and wondered, "Really?"
"Hm, spring is a long way off."
"That's good."
Tutzi's brow raised and Omari turned to him, saying, "I wish I had your job, Tutzi. You won't be ordered to kill anyone."
The witch's eyes widened and he grew a troubled expression. He stepped closer and whispered, "Is that why you hide from your sword training?"
"Ah, you noticed," he forlornly sighed. He felt depressingly hopeless at the moment, so he didn't put much effort into the facade. He… He didn't want to use this facade in front of Tutzi anymore. He liked Tutzi. So he didn't care. Even if it somehow got him in trouble. Even if there were consequences. "To tell you the truth, I also don't want to die either. But you'll just call me selfish."
"I wouldn't call you selfish," Tutzi tried to counter, but the wavering in his voice betrayed him. Omari knew afterall many believed it to be cowardly to not fight for your country. Some are more privileged than others, those who don't have to spill blood. But there have been plenty of children swept into the military that didn't get to have the luxury of opinion or choice. They were just pushed into the mold of a soldier. Brainwashing themselves to believe it was okay. That everything will be okay if they follow orders. In Omari's eyes, he felt it to be too tragic.
"It's okay," he huffed. "You aren't the first."
Tutzi stared but then tried to reassure him, "But aren't you very powerful now? Surely you won't die on the battlefield with those powers."
"There's no way to make sure," Omari sighed. "Knowing that Hóngyè has eight powerful generals… It's really hard to say. And becoming Malta's 'Hero', they will certainly target me."
Tutzi thought and then wondered, "Like the general Tao Liu?"
Omari hummed, "Tao Liu…"
"He captured you, didn't he?" Tutzi felt bad. In his understanding, the cruel Hóngyèse general probably did terrible things to Omari in his capture. It must be one of the things that frightened him into returning to the army.
"He did," Omari muttered. "I heard he's recovered from his wounds and is being sent to the south again."
"Yes, I heard that too," he nodded.
"That general…" Omari's gaze lowered. He really thought he killed him and felt so relieved to hear the news that he survived. Thankfully he didn't murder him. He would feel awful since Tao Liu was probably the best captor on either side. If Omari was captured by him again, he could at least expect some civility and not to be treated inhumanely.
But then again, since he is a hero and Tao Liu is a general, then that means they are sworn enemies now. But… Omari was finding that he didn't like the thought of that. He felt conflicted and hesitant. Because Tao Liu… he protected them all from Omari's uncontrollable power. Every living person there, Tao Liu shielded them with his powers at the expense of his well-being. Omari saw how he looked afterward, like his life was barely hanging on a thread. So, to this 'hero', he couldn't find himself pointing a sword at Tao Liu. He hoped they wouldn't cross paths again in the future, so he won't have to.
Omari shook his head and mumbled, "Let's not think about that right now." He turned to Tutzi with a calm smile, "You're headed to your greenhouse right? Can I join?"
Tutzi perked up and grinned, "Okay!"
-
Pallavi and Omari were practicing their skills and conversing at the same time. Omari asked, "Did you find anything else about the sword?"
She replied, "Our specialists have determined that its radiocarbon dating is about over five thousand years old."
Omari blinked in surprise, "That old?! How is it still intact?!"
"The cultivation energy that it is infused with keeps it new," she responded. "We are determining that it may even be a Heavenly Artifact."
Omari stopped in his conjuring and looked at her with horrified amazement, "A Heavenly Artifact?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Though I do come from a culture of polytheism, I have never witnessed anything god-like in my life nor have found any evidence, so I was always skeptical. But there are many artifacts that have been considered heavenly ranked that have been recovered. Those artifacts usually don't have much magical power or energy left in them anymore, and are just husks of what they used to be."
"Many religions also discuss gods descending down from the heavens, but those types of written records and oral stories have ceased in the past three thousand years. So it is hard to determine if all of these past acknowledgements of gods were just stories. This sword is probably the biggest piece of evidence that gods had existed in this world."
"You're so calm about it," Omari noted, feeling like he was losing his mind from such a revelation.
"I'm just not getting my hopes up," Pallavi explained. "Though this object's powers are ranked to god level, that doesn't mean it wasn't just created by a powerful cultivator. Before all the sects were wiped out by the Hóngyèse emperor, there were plenty of legendary cultivators in the past. Some were so powerful, they could reach immortality or vanquish thousands of demons with one fell swoop."
He was a bit intrigued by such a statement, but Pallavi was the magical historian here. She knew best. But that got him thinking, "But Pallavi, there are plenty of demons in the world. Why would you be skeptical of a heaven if there is definitely a hell?"
She sighed, "Because pain is a fact of life. I can believe there are demons because there is so much pain in this world, and believing in pain is easier than believing that someone will save you from that pain. I have never been saved from my pain. I have had no one to offer me salvation, I always had to save myself from my own suffering. So I believe in pain because it has always been there for me. And if demons cause pain, then I'll believe in them too."
Omari's gaze lowered, wishing that wasn't true. He had a moment of reprieve roaming the halls of this magic school. But she was right, pain will just return. He had no happiness to look forward to and even if he did, he had no idea where to search for it. He would just have to be prepared for his pain when it comes.
Pallavi then wondered, "Have you been contacted by that spirit in your dreams anymore?"
"No, not yet," he replied.
"I spoke with a colleague about that and I wanted to try something they advised me to do," she said.
"Oh? What is it?"
"She suggested a seance," Pallavi answered. "Perhaps we are dealing with someone deceased that used to be the owner of the sword or was slain by it."
"Ugh," Omari grimaced. "A ghost. Creepy..."
"It's not all that bad," she said. "I had a few classes back in the day that had us summon and talk to ghosts. Perhaps we can call this one out and talk to it."
"Maybe," he huffed.
"Come on, let's try it," they sat down, legs crossed as if to meditate. She muttered a strange tongue under her breath as they closed their eyes. Omari softly breathed in then out, waiting for something to happen. The candlelights flickered and the room grew warm. He then heard a humming coming from his left, which was odd because Pallavi was to his right. He opened his eyes to see where it was coming from but found himself suddenly in that white space. His gaze widened in surprise, looking around to see nothing but pure white.
Omari stood and called out for Pallavi, but received no answer. He then started wandering around this place, seeing what he could find. It felt like he was walking about for hours until he saw a dark blur far off in the distance. He jogged to it and discovered a shadowy figure. It was hunched over, digging into some dresser's drawer, obviously looking for something.
They dug and dug, mumbling to themselves, with tears in their voice, "Where is it? I put it here, didn't I? Where'd it go? Oh no. I didn't mean to lose it. He'll be sad."
Omari stared at the figure, but before he could say anything, he felt something hit his toe. He looked down and discovered that he had lightly kicked a silver ring. He gazed at it, then bent down to pick it up. He held the piece of jewelry in his hands, seeing that it had a golden gem embedded into it.
He turned to the figure and asked, "Is this it?"
The figure's shoulders jumped and turned around. Omari was caught in shock as he saw them show bright vibrant red eyes.
Suddenly he felt like all the air came back into his chest and his gaze snapped open, finding himself back in the meditation room. The loud noise he made startled Pallavi and she came closer to see him gasping for air. She questioned, "What is it? What happened?"
"I-," before Omari could say anything, he felt something in his fist. He opened it to discover the ring from the vision was resting in his palm.
Pallavi glanced down at it and asked, "Where'd you get that?"
Omari stared at it then muttered, "I-I don't know."
-
Pallavi held the ring up to the lamp, seeing it glisten in the light and said, "You pulled something from the other side."
"Is that bad?" Omari nervously wondered.
"Not now," she remarked. "But it gives us another clue."
"Do you think it comes from the same time period as the sword?"
"It could be even older," she responded. "Don't know what this gem is. I'll have to ask an expert."
"I see."
"That's enough experimenting for today," she stated. "Take a break for now."
"Alright."
-
Pallavi, Jessi, and Omari ventured into town with armed personnel. Three guards followed to a special location where they had an appointment at. They walked to the blacksmith district where news occurred of Malta's most famous blacksmith Phoebe Reed had returned back to her shop after a year's long excretion to acquire new materials. She was known for her skilled craftsmanship and expansive knowledge of the art.
They crossed by her shop where they heard loud clanking inside and let themselves in. The group entered to see many types of swords, shields, and knives hanging on display all over the walls. The whole shop was a large studio room where past the counter they could see Phoebe herself working on her latest broadsword. She slammed the hammer down, lighting sparks that illuminated her face. Phoebe was about a seventy-year-old lady who had broad shoulders and thick muscles. She wore a tube top and cargo pants as they watched her work on the blade. Years of age wrinkled her face, showing it to be more angular with her cheeks protruding.
Phoebe had very light-colored skin that had many red blotches all over. Her brunette hair which was sprinkled with white and gray strands was put up in a small ponytail. She looked up to the crew of youngsters that came inside and stopped her work. She called, "Will be with you in ten!"
She then continued hammering, not paying much mind to the others who were left to admire her shop. During their wait time, Jessi pointed out to Omari and Pallavi all sorts of different sword styles that she found absolutely fascinating. She was very excited to be there, gesturing here and there with stars in her eyes. Omari would at times point out a sword or two that she could ramble on about how beautiful they were. And in all honesty, even Omari could tell that they were truly made by such a skilled crafter.
When ten minutes passed, Phoebe stopped clanking away and took the hot blade to a cool barrel of water that she dropped it in. She took a dirty towel, wiped the sweat off her brow, and crossed past the counter to their side. She sniffed, snorted, and spit on the floor, stating, "You're all here early."
"We apologize for that, Master Crafter," Pallavi nodded. "We left sooner than we thought."
"Hmph," she breathed through her nose, and went to the front door to flip the open sign to closed. She turned to the others and said, "My office's this way. We can discuss the sword in there."
They all followed her to a side room that stemmed off deeper into the building and down a narrow hallway. There were some side doors that must have led to the stairs on the second floor, but they instead went to the back, into her office at the end of the hall. They all entered, seeing a cramped place with disorganized files and sample minerals used for the metals of her swords. Phoebe walked to her desk, landed in her swivel chair, and propped both feet up over the table. She wore large army boots that were caked in mud and had rocks lodged into the indentations of the soles.
She languidly gestured to them, "Sword."
Pallavi nodded and Omari gave her the blade that was concealed in fabric. Phoebe unwrapped the weapon and the moment she saw the hilt, her hands stopped. Her eyes fell at the shine and muttered aloud, "This is…" She gently removed the rest of the fabric to see the whole sword. The blacksmith held it delicately with both hands as she finished, "The most beautiful piece of work I have ever seen."
Phoebe glanced it up and down, truly admiring the shape and form of this weapon. She remarked, "I had no idea swords could look like this and now I feel inadequate. Seeing this… I'm afraid I'll never make a blade as lovely as this."
"You are a master," Pallavi noted. "You might know the grand history of this sword. Could you say where this one comes from?"
"Not at first glance," she honestly replied. "Looking at it… and that nothing has existed like this in recent history. I must say that this is a few thousand years old. Perhaps from a culture that ancestored… Hóngyè."
She seemed to be right on the money so far.
"This isn't what I expected the Hero Omari to be wielding," she remarked.
"Why's that?"
"Because of the weight… the shape," Phoebe gazed at it, "It doesn't look like it's been used much at all."
"What does Master Blacksmith mean?" Jessi inquired.
"I mean look here," she sat upright, pulling her legs down and showed the sword. Omari, Jessi, and Pallavi all tried to see what she was showing them. "I can tell this thing is infused with magic, that's why it hasn't deteriorated by weather erosion over the years and has remained sharp. But here." She traced her finger over the blade, "There's not really any obvious scratch marks that it's been used. Most swords have at least some indentations to display that they may have cut through bone or have been dropped. Maybe it's because of this sword's magic, but there is not a single sign that this weapon has ever been used."
"But I've practiced with it," Omari noted. "I've had to sword train with it."
"I see that," she replied. "But those are rather new scratch marks. I'm looking for something old and can't find it."
Phoebe wondered and looked at Omari, "It doesn't appear to mend the scratches over time. You have been handling it for months but nothing has faded." She gazed at the blade a little longer then asked, "Mind if I test something?"
"What're you going to do?" he wondered.
"I'm going to make a small scratch on the steel. It will be a tiny mark. I want to use that as an indication if the sword eventually regenerates over time."
He thought about it then nodded, and she took a small chisel and hammer from her desk, laid the blade down, and started lightly tapping it. She did it a few times in one spot, stopped, showing an obvious mark. It was four small circles together.
Phoebe stated, "This will be your indication if it fades over time. If it doesn't, that means this sword has not been used much in the past. No great hero wielded it into battle. Which would be interesting."
"But what does that mean?" Jessi questioned.
"It means…" she contemplated. "That either the hero didn't have much time to use it, never got the chance, or… it could have been a gift."
"A gift?" Pallavi repeated.
"Mm," Phoebe nodded. "Many cultures, when receiving swords or other weapons as gifts, try to handle them as little as possible. Usually favoring putting them on display rather than actually using them in battle. They wanted them to last."
"This sword really could be for decoration?!" Omari said, absolutely flabbergasted. This sword? This sword that can transform him and create great seas of Black Gold?! What?!
"I'm not saying it was made to be a decoration," Phoebe answered. "But its shape and weight, it very much could be. And that it hardly showed any use is also solid evidence. But that doesn't mean it was made for that. The receiver of this blade could have also just found it to be too precious and would rather keep it intact forever. Wearing it as a beloved ornament or something."
Omari then recalled that he found this sword embedded in a wall rather than it being in a tomb or just lying around. So maybe all the superpowers it came with were just an added bonus? It was hard to tell.
"I see," Pallavi hummed. "Our experts also believe it to be old and from Hóngyè. But we also theorize that it could be a Heavenly Artifact."
"Whoa," Phoebe's eyes widened in amazement, looking back at the sword. "Really?"
"Yes."
"That could explain why I haven't seen anything like this," Phoebe pondered. "A blade not made from this earth but from the heavens would be a rare object indeed."
"Mm," Pallavi nodded. "Well, with your expertise, we hope to uncover the secrets of this grand weapon."
Phoebe peered at them then answered, "I would be interested in helping."
-
They handed her sketches of the sword and let her borrow it. Pallavi put a tracking spell on it, just in case something went awry. They headed back to the school, but since it was the middle of the day and they were far away, they stopped to eat lunch first. The whole time they were walking, Omari felt oddly naked without the sword. It had always been by his side or close by for almost a year and now it was nowhere to be seen. It was a very odd feeling and he never thought he'd get attached to such a bothersome thing.
The group stopped by the Bell Brooks Cafe where the guards secured the area and allowed them to enter. The public was still allowed to procure tables and take orders, but the guards and Jessi were still vigilant. Pallavi, Jessi, and Omari sat at a table, waiting to order when the bell rang and a familiar face entered.
Omari turned to see his old nurse colleague Maliha enter the cafe, seeming to be minding her own business until her eyes made contact with his. She froze in place and had an array of conflicting expressions appearing on her face, but then she smiled. Maliha moved to approach his table, but the guards stood up, Jessi hearing and following suit. Though when she saw Maliha, she immediately called them off, "It's alright. She's an old friend."
They sat back down and Maliha joined their table. She sat between Jessi and Omari and said, "I haven't seen you two in a long time." She faced Omari, "I've heard a lot of crazy things. Like you're some prophetic hero?"
"No prophecy," Omari shook his head. "Just a random sword I found that gives me magical powers."
"Wow."
"Ehem," they turned to see Pallavi, waiting to be introduced.
"Right, Maliha, this is one of my new teachers, Pallavi Kapoor," Omari stated. "She teaches magic."
"Pleasure to meet you," Maliha lifted herself up to shake Pallavi's hand. "I'm Mailha Qasim, an army nurse."
"Ah," Pallavi realized and shook her hand. "So that's how you three know each other."
"Sure is," Jessi chuckled. "Maliha and Omari both worked as nurses and had to patch up all my scars plenty of times."
"I'm surprised to see either of you," Maliha remarked. "When coming to the capital, I didn't expect to run into you two."
"What're you doing here in the capital?" Omari asked.
"I am supposed to meet with political officials to discuss future medical supply agreements," Maliha sighed. "I am the representative."
"Anything to get you off the battlefield," Omari hummed.
"Agreed," Maliha huffed. "Speaking of which, I can assume you won't be returning to your position as head nurse."
Omari's eyes fell downcast as he replied, "No… I will be put on the frontlines when spring comes. Which… is about a month away."
Three out of four at the table became gloomy but Jessi tried to interject, "It's okay. He's been practicing, he'll be so skilled that he could wipe the floor with any Hóngyèse soldier."
Omari grimaced. Jessi, you know that's not what he wanted to hear.
"Ah… is that so," Maliha sighed.
"And what of you, Maliha?" Omari tried to divert the attention. "Where will you be stationed after you're done with your work here?"
"Hmm…" she thought then answered, "This conference should take about a month or so, and then I'm supposed to be stationed in the south for a year."
"Where?"
"In Ar-ban," she replied. "If I'm lucky, I'd like to be stationed there for longer."
"Ar-ban…?" Omari wondered. "That's not too far from your hometown."
"Mm."
"Isn't that the great walled city in the desert?" Jessi questioned with interest.
"Yes," Maliha said. "I'm supposed to help any soldiers retreating from war who want to take sanctuary in the city. It should be a smooth job."
"Huh… jealous…" Omari pouted.
"It's nothing to sneeze at," Maliha smiled. "I'm glad I managed to grab the position."
"Mhm," he nodded. "It sounds like a good job. I am happy for you, Maliha."
She hummed, "Thank you."
-
A couple of days later, Pallavi approached Omari and handed him back the ring. She said, "Our researches predate it to be about seven thousand years old."
His eyes snapped open in surprise as he looked it over. This little thing had really lasted that long? That's insane!
"There's not much remarkable about it, but that little gem," she gestured to it. "It isn't a gem at all, it's tree sap."
"Tree sap?" Omari questioned.
"Yeah," she nodded. "We haven't figured out what type of tree it came from, because if we do, we can probably pinpoint where it originally comes from. But that may take more time."
"Will you tell me by letter when I go back to the battlefield?" Omari asked.
"Yes, absolutely," she hummed. "Your powers, sword, and ring are quite the mystery to uncover. I will make sure to get back to you on it."
Omari smiled and said, "Pallavi."
"Hm?"
"Thanks for everything," he told her. "You've helped me a lot, and I'm grateful."
She stared at him then nodded.