Gazing down from the hilltop to the seemingly endless road that stretched
out before her, Cassandra gave a heavy sigh. What was she doing? Why was
she here, by herself, setting out on a journey when she didn't even know
where she was going? She wasn't an adventurer. She wasn't trained for this,
and she didn't know what she was doing. She wasn't prepared for the journey,
much less the confrontation waiting for her at the end of it. She had no
business doing this... and yet she could not bring herself to even look
back, for fear her resolve would break and she would return home with the
task undone.
She would have to manage somehow, she told herself. Her sister had done
it, after all. She found herself wishing she had listened more closely
to Sophitia's tales of her adventures--when she was willing to talk about
them, that was. Then again, she'd thought it was all over, that there would
be no more need for her family to be dragged into the affairs of gods and
demons.
Yet there she stood, staring at the road that would only be the beginning
of her quest. Conflicting concerns fought for her attention. Where would
she sleep the night? What would she do for food? She had a few gold pieces,
but her sister's tales had spoken of lands far away and travels over mountains
and seas and deserts, and she knew what little she had would not last.
It would have to take her as far as she could stretch it, and then... she
would find ways.
She did not know much of the wide world, beyond what she had picked up
from Sophitia's descriptions of it, but she gathered it was less than a
friendly place, even for a swordmaiden. Worse still, the very evil she
sought to destroy would attract the worst kinds of people. Even before
she reached the end of her quest, she would have to fight, and while she
had no doubts about her own ability to meet those challenges, it was one
more difficulty added to a task that already seemed overwhelming.
It was, she told herself, a fool's errand. No, it was worse than that...
even fools did not charge blindly after some evil they hardly understood,
especially when they had so little idea of where they might find it, or
even what to do if they did.
Yet her sister had done exactly that. Twice, no less, even after the
first time she had come back on the edge of death, saved only by the mysterious
woman from the East who had carried her home. These same weapons that Cassandra
now held, Sophitia had borne to battle against the demon sword, and returned
again. Of course, Sophitia had been given Hephaestus' oracle as a guide...
but she had no more experience the first time than Cassandra.
She closed her hand tightly around the hilt of her sword. Hers? No, much
like this quest, it was something she had stolen, had taken for her own
when it truly belonged to another. There were so many others who could
lay claim to the weapon and to the shield that was its companion. Rothion,
her brother-in-law, who had forged the arms in a labor of love. Sophitia,
her sister, for whom they had been made, and who had wielded them through
countless battles. Hephaestus, god of fire and forge, to whom sword and
shield had been dedicated after Sophitia's second and triumphant return.
Yet her hands held them now, and her feet bore them on their holy errand.
She wondered again why she was doing this, even as the answer still burned
into the palm of her hand. The shard's heat was searing even through her
glove, as though it would burn cloth and flesh alike, yet it left no mark.
That heat, though, and the angry red glow of the metal were a constant
reminder of the evil that had returned once again to menace her family.
There was no mistaking the dark energy that surged even through this small
shard of the demon blade.
She could not see it, could not feel it, without thinking of her sister.
Even being near to this fragment had brought Sophitia pain, the wounds
once opened by similar shards aching anew. More disturbing than that were
the reactions of her niece and nephew, who had fought over the shard so
that they had to be restrained. Had they all been infected by the blade's
dark energy? It reminded her of one of her sister's stories, of the men
who had wielded the weapon, and of the dominion it held over their souls.
Was the darkness of the demon sword to hover over her family for another
generation?
She would not have it. Soul Edge would not have power over her sister
or any other of her family. Sophitia would not have to take up this fight
again, would not be troubled by this darkness a third time.
Fear. There had been fear in Sophitia's eyes, and that had stirred something
in Cassandra's soul that she could not hold down. Taking the shard herself,
she had run to the shrine on the mountain, the very place where this had
all begun. Sophitia had received an oracle there, and a quest... Cassandra
had gone seeking only an answer for her fury.
What had happened then, she still as not sure she understood. She had
screamed to the heavens at the gods for inflicting this pain on her sister
once again. She had shouted her rage until she collapsed at the altar's
foot. Then, as she pleaded for another answer, she raised her eyes to the
altar itself... and the holy weapons which resided there.
Sophitia had her own life now. She had her husband, and her children
to care for, a family that needed her. The gods be damned if they thought
they would put this burden on her again. They could find another champion.
Perhaps, she thought with a twist of irony, they had.
When she first saw her sister's old arms, the resonance was undeniable.
That sword and shield had done battle with the demon blade before, and
the presence of its shard seemed to awaken something within them. She'd
picked up the sword, and in that moment felt something new. Could it be
that this was the answer she had sought?
She wondered what her sister had thought when she visited the shrine
and found the sword and shield missing. Had she known, then, that Cassandra
had taken up her quest? Was she angry? Would she worry? Probably; Sophitia
had never been the kind to foist her work off on others... but that was
one more reason this had to be done.
She turned her eyes away from the shard, looking back to the road ahead.
It was a long journey ahead of her, with nothing to guide her but a faint
sense of leading. Was it the fragment that gave her this direction, the
dark power of Soul Edge reaching out to be reunited with the whole of the
blade? Or was it something higher, more noble? Had Hephaestus looked kindly
upon her even in her rage, and deigned to bless her efforts in spite of
it?
She wanted to believe that. This felt right to her, even in the face
of all the reasons it should be wrong. She hoped it was true; she knew
well the might of the evil she would face on this quest, and she knew she
would need that kind of help. She would have to trust that it was so, that
the holy arms she bore would provide her with their protection. She had
no doubt of her own skill, but with the stories her sister had told, she
knew there were powers beyond skill at work here, powers for which she
had no other counter.
No... there could be no doubt in her mind, in her heart. She had to believe,
had to trust with each step that she was doing the right thing. She had
to trust in her skill, trust in her heart, trust in the divine powers that
had protected her sister through two such journeys--trust that those powers
would lead her safely home again when all was done. She could not delay;
if the demon sword was truly awakened, and she knew that it was, there
would be others seeking it as well. There was no time for hesitation, and
none for fear. She would have to be swift, and strong, if she hoped to
bring the horror of Soul Edge to a final end... and bring peace to her
family once and for all.
She tightened her grip on the sword, holding it up before her, and as
it gleamed in the morning sun she knew, somehow, that she would succeed.
This was her quest now, given to her by the gods, just as it had been to
her sister before, and she could not fail. Drawing in a deep breath, she
took her first steps forward onto the long road ahead.