Volume 01 - Chapter 3: Three's a Curse (Part 05)

Each of us struggling to stay awake, we trudge through the moonlit streets of Gamaloth to Marigold’s house. I begged Mizuka to let us take a nap, but she insisted we waste no time in retrieving her fragment.

Marigold answers our knocking on her door in an instant, claiming she couldn’t sleep from worrying about her book and whether or not we’d run into danger chasing the thief.

“It was nothing we couldn’t handle,” says Mizuka. “And you needn’t worry another second.” She sidesteps to reveal Millie, who hides beneath her hood.

Marigold gives a slight yelp upon seeing her. “I-It’s you!”

“I’m sorry!” Millie extends the book held in both hands with head bowed deep.

Collecting herself, Marigold accepts and hugs it tight. “Thank you,” she says to each of us in turn. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” Mizuka pulls up Millie and removes her hood. “And what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for stealing your book.”

“And what else?”

“…I’m sorry for hitting you.”

“Good. You have every right not to, Marigold, but I ask you forgive this foolish little girl. Her crimes were not committed out of malice.”

“Who are you calling foolish?!” Millie grabs at Mizuka, who once again dodges her.

“So long as I have this book back, all is well.” Marigold takes Millie’s hand, flashing her that warm, grandmotherly smile capable of turning even the most ill-behaved child’s heart to mush. “I forgive you.”

“Isn’t that great?” Mizuka doesn’t bother masking her sarcasm. “Now, as mentioned, we’re very interested in the contents of your book. Might we take a look and ask you a few questions about it?”

“Of course, come on inside. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please,” I say. Otherwise, I’m off to dreamland.

Gathering in her living room, Marigold serves us each a cup of black tea, the three girls pressed against each other on the short couch, myself in a straight-backed chair. A few minutes of stiff sipping in silence pass before Mizuka dashes straight to the point.

“Does this tome tell of the sword in the stone?” She points at the book Marigold placed on the table before us.

“Not the one here in Gamaloth, but there is mention of a sword; two, I believe. But,” she opens it to the middle, “several pages are missing, so their names have been lost.”

I start to ask about the missing pages, but Mizuka motions for me to keep quiet.

“I see…Can you tell us anything else about the swords or the book itself?”

“With pleasure. I’d say to read it yourselves, but I’ll have to read it for you. No one but myself and a handful of scholars can read the ancient language in which it’s written. As my ancestors taught their offspring, so too my mother taught me this strange but beautiful language. Sabigo is its name.”

“Very well, please do.” Mizuka relaxes, sinking into the couch cushions.

Marigold flips through the book with eager eyes and assumes the tone of a mother reading her children a bedtime story.

Long ago, there existed a pair of swords—sister swords. Forged one right after the other by the greatest swordsmith in the land. Both blades cast from the hardest steel, the older was dipped in gold, the younger in silver. Equal in both power and beauty, but destined to be separated. The older was to be kept under lock and key until one worthy of wielding it appeared. The younger had a curse placed upon it and disappeared, never to be seen again.

“Their story seems to continue, but as you saw, those pages are missing.” Marigold closes the book and folds her hands. “Forgive me. I can’t imagine that was much help.”

“No, thank you. I’m sure it will prove useful. Tell me, does the book mention anything about a stone or a lake south of Gamaloth?” Mizuka winces, gripping her forehead.

Marigold presses close to Mizuka. “No one’s ever asked me about the lake. Where did you hear of it?”

“I…we’ve been.” She nods her head my way. “It lies in a forest just outside his village.”

Marigold frowns, looking each of us over with curiosity. “Few know of it. You’re searching for something far greater than buried treasure to pawn…aren’t you?”

“Indeed. But that something needs to be kept secret.” Mizuka stands and stares hard into Marigold’s mousy eyes. “What do you know of this lake?”

“N-Nothing much. An old story passed down through my family along with the book.” Retreating, she breathes deep and begins her next tale.

Several centuries ago, there was a young man. About my age, tall, brawny, focused, and always working toward a singular purpose. What this purpose was, he never said, but his pursuit of it took him all across the known world. He passed through Gamaloth when the town bore another name and spent a few nights with Marigold’s ancestors.

During his stay, he asked countless questions about the area, several regarding a stone and a lake. He believed treasures were associated with them and needed to find them. One of the many books he carried told of how the stone and the lake functioned as guardians of each treasure. Only someone with both unwavering strength and a kind heart would be worthy to claim both. The first of which he strove toward every day with constant sword and strength training. His obsessiveness regarding the treasures bordered on the insane.

Finished resting and collecting information, the young man departed to the south and never returned. The book of legends was something he left, apparently by accident. Although the missing pages suggest he tore out what he needed and abandoned the rest.

“Those treasures he spoke of must’ve been the sister swords. Don’t you think?” Marigold raises a hand to her pale cheek.

“Perhaps…Is there anything more you can tell us?”

“…No, that was everything. The story was no doubt much longer, but the finer details have been lost over time.”

Mizuka moves toward the hallway. “Thank you for your stories and your time. And sorry for keeping you up so late. We’d better be on our way. If we can do anything to repay you, just say the word.” Mizuka bows, pensiveness in her half-smile.

“No, no, you’ve done enough by returning my precious book to me. As for sharing my stories, it was my pleasure. Allow me.” She slips past Mizuka and leads us to her front porch. “And you, little one.” She faces Millie.

“…Yes?” She peeks out from behind Barmaid.

“I won’t ask why you stole my book, but if you ever need any help, you’re welcome here. Us poor folk of Halivaara have to look out for each other, right?”

Millie gives a hesitant nod and hides under her hood.

We bid Marigold farewell and descend her creaking steps.

“Wait,” says Marigold, body rigid. “I do have a request, but don’t feel you have to fulfill it.”

“Of course.” Mizuka faces her. “If it’s within my power, I’ll see it done.”

“It’s nothing much. Only…if you find those treasures, those swords, would you show them to me? I’ve heard and read about them since I was a child. Seeing them would be a…a dream come true.”

“I cannot guarantee such a thing but will promise nonetheless. I’ll bring you those swords as soon as I reclai—when we find them.”

“Thank you…take care now. Drop in anytime. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Waving, Marigold slips behind her door as we depart.

“Now what?” I ask the painful question once we reach the center of town.

Everyone casts quick glances at one another in silence. Mizuka fumes as she paces with heavy footsteps. Barmaid pushes her fingertips together while having a staring contest with the ground. Millie teeters in place, struggling to stay awake.

“What else? We return to the sword in the stone,” barks Mizuka.

“To do what?”

“Reclaim it.”

“…How?”

“We’ll figure it out when we arrive.”

“I somehow doubt that, seeing as we’ve learned next to nothing.”

“Quiet, servant boy. All we can do is try, so that’s what we’ll do.” She faces Millie. “You can go home now.”

“W-What for? You said you were going to help me.”

“And we will, but you’ll only prove a hindrance from this point on—you’re apt to fall asleep where you stand. We’ll return once I remember how to break your father’s curse.”

“…Promise?” She extends a pinky finger.

Mizuka raises an eyebrow, and I tell her how pinky promises work. “Ah,” she performs the ritual, “I…promise.”

“Thanks. And,” Millie hugs Barmaid, “goodnight.”

With that, she scurries southwest into the black of night. We face our ultimate destination—the park containing our prize. How we’re to claim it, none know, but our feet ferry us there nonetheless. As if some unknown force compels us toward it. A sense of unease seizes my chest, but there’s no turning back now. A hero presses on no matter the chaos swirling in his heart.