10 The Sword of the Immortal IV

"If so... please teach me to be strong." Amon's words echoed in the isolated space.

Lya thought it was a good choice of words. He wasn't asking her to lend him her strength, nor was he asking her to make him strong. He asked her to guide him, so he could become strong himself.

Lya smiled hearing that, meeting his steel-like gaze with hers. It felt really strange, the boy seemingly turned into a different person as soon as he realized what chance he had in front of him. However, the moment she saw those unwavering eyes she had decided on her answer. A single word.

"No." She said softly.

The boy was taken aback. He probably never expected this. His face flused a bit, but his ears turned bright red in shame.

"Why?" He asked with a confused expression. He was certainly wasn't sure that Lya would accept his request, but going through all of the trouble of healing him and pressing herself to just deny him like that didn't make much sense to him.

"We are fated, yes. But do I know you?" She looked at him, her blue eyes shining with a ferocious light.

"Why do you want to be strong? How would you use such power? What kind of person are you? What kind of person do you want to be?" She stepped forward at each question, her voice full of authority. Amon's face paled as he started stepping back.

"Can you guarantee to me that you will always think like you do now? Can you guarantee that you will never throw everything away and disregard everything and everyone because you think you are right?" Her voice turned louder, the fierceness in her eyes grew stronger. Amon paled even further, overwhelmed by the stream of questions.

Then, she made a long pause, as if taking a breath.

"Who will you become?" Was the last thing she asked. Not in a loud voice, nor with those piercing eyes, but looking down, almost mumbling to herself. She knew better than anyone that eternity might always be the same, but those that experienced it would certainly change.

Amon was silent for a long time, dumbstruck. He was surprised at her reaction to his request, but all the questions she asked made some sense. He took a deep breath before opening his mouth. The first thing he said after that barrage of questions was quite simple.

"My name is Amon Skoller." He said in a calm manner. Lya's brow perked up as she heard that. It was almost as if she recognized the name.

"I don't know the answer to most of these questions, nor can I give you the guarantees you want, but I can answer one thing." He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. "I want to be strong so I won't be weak."

It was an obvious statement. People would certainly laugh at him if he said it to anyone else, but Lya didn't. Even if it was obvious, it still could be interpreted in many ways.

"I want to be strong to protect the ones dear to me. Nothing more, nothing less." He finally said, his eyes as calm as his words.

Lya closed her eyes. They certainly were different. A weak breeze blew past her. She always found it funny, how Alexei loved to feel the breeze by the lake so much, while all she could do was watch and imagine how it felt.

"What would you do if you lost everyone you hold dear? If you lost your reason for being strong? What would you do then, Amon?" Her eyes were still closed as she asked.

Amon didn't answer. He didn't because he had no answer. He truly didn't know what he would do if he lost Daniel. He was even less sure of what he would do if he ever lost his mother. Just the thought of it gave him fright.

"The stronger you are, the longer you live. That means that the stronger you are, the more you will outlive the ones dear to you." Lya said, opening her eyes.

"That is a reason I will not accept. The answer is still no." She gave her final words on this matter.

The breeze blew stronger, hitting Amon, making his clothes flutter and messing his hair. He had a terrible expression on his face. One of disappointment and regret.

"Still, we are indeed fated. We do not need to part ways." Lya said. She flickered her fingers and the crystalline ring flew into Amon's hands. "You can hold unto it for now, even if you cannot use it."

Amon looked at the ring with attention. It was crystal-blue and translucent, as if made of ice. A few silver runes were inscribed in it, so small that they weren't visible unless one took a closer look.

The ring seemed to be too big for his small fingers. He looked at Lya, but she just gave a light nod, telling him to go on. He quietly put it in the ring finger of his left hand. The ring shone with a dim light, and seemed to contract, perfectly fitting his finger.

He extended his fingers and raised his hand against the sky, appreciating how the ring glowed in the sun. Lya waved her hands again, and the black sheath on the ground floated to her. She gently sheathed Brightmoon in it, and offered it to Amon.

"You can take me and Brightmoon with you." She said with a light smile. Amon carefully took the sword in his hands, feeling its weight. He strapped it to his back, making sure it would not fall.

"Thank you." He said to her with all of his sincerity. Lya simply nodded.

"Uhm…" He suddenly looked flustered and agitated, as if he had remembered something important.

"What's the problem?" She asked, coking her head.

"I don't know where we are or how to return to the sect?" He said, looking away. His ears reddened.

"Is it close? Can you draw a map for me to see?"

"Yes, I can!" He said, his hopes renewed.

He picked dried branch on the floor and slowly drew the map he remembered from what Daniel showed him. He pointed at Hell's Keeper with the branch. "The sect is here."

He slowly made his way to the Red River, tracing the path he took with Daniel until they reached the riverbank where they searched for artifacts. "The raft I was in dragged me for a few hour from this point. I was unconscious, so I don't know where exactly we are."

Lya nodded hearing his words. However, it was not enough. She didn't recognize much of the landscape. It had certainly changed in the years she was isolated from the world.

"Is there anything else you can show me?" She asked him.

Amon thought for a while, and his face suddenly lit up. He carefully drew an irregular circle in the west part of the map, as well as a bunch of crisscrossing gashes in the southeast.

"This is the Scorched Lands." He said, pointing at the irregular circle.Then, his finger made its way to the gashes. "These are the Scars."

"They are remains of a war that happened centuries ago." He said, turning to face Lya. She had a deep frown or her face, as if she was trying to puzzle a few things together. "Was it not enough?" He thought to himself.

"Ah, I almost forgot!" He held the branch firmly, and in a single stroke almost divided the map I two.

"This is the Sword Abyss. It is hundreds of miles long and is a really dangerous place. It is what named our sect, the Abyss Sect." To his surprise, Lya's eyes widened. Her face paled and she had a strange expression.

"Have you seen it before?" He asked, confused. Lya recovered somewhat, and tried to put on a blank face, but failed miserably.

"Yes, I have." She said, her voice trembling, her eyes misty, as if she was about to cry.

Amon said nothing, deciding to keep silent. Lya seemed greatly affected by it. He never expected to see her so vulnerable all of a sudden.He sat down, looking at the lake and feeling the breeze as he waited for her.

"We are not far from your sect. Luckily you were only dragged a few miles away." She said after a few minutes. She didn't look at Amon, but was looking at the skeleton instead.

"We need to bury him." She said. She tried to sound indifferent, but her voiced trembled slightly. This didn't escape Amon.

He walked over to the skeleton and looked at Lya as he pointed to the spot it was lying. She just nodded, her eyes blank and lifeless. Amon carefully moved the skeleton away and started digging at the spot it had been with his bare hands.

Lya raised a hand to stop him, and waved her other hand. The air seemed to undulate as a huge chunk of earth rose from where Amon had been digging.

Amon gently placed the skeleton in the newly dug grave, and looked at Lya.

"Do you have any words you want to say?" He asked carefully. She shook her head.

"I already said all I wanted to long ago." She said, her sadness evident.

She quietly approached and Amon stepped back. She leaned over and kissed the skeleton's forehead. A few tears streamed down her face and fell into it. They simply went through the bone, as if they had no substance. They left no sign of ever existing.

"What was his name?" Amon asked carefully. It didn't feel right to not know the expert's name after all of that.

"Alexei. Alexei Vine." Lya said softly. Amon nodded in silence before bowing to the skeleton lying in the grave, expressing his gratitude.

Lya then lowered her hands, making the chunk of earth still floating mid-air fall in place, covering the skeleton.

All that remained in the isolated space was the lake and the scarred landscape.

"Let's go." She said, as her figure slowly blurred and finally dispersed.

"I'll be waiting for the day you find an acceptable answer." Her voiced made its way into his mind, melodious and ethereal.

Amon nodded without saying a word. He knew it was best to not speak. He was also not surprised at Lya's disappearance, as she was a Sword Spirit. She had just returned to Brightmoon.

He turned away from the lake, taking firm steps in towards the boundaries of the isolated space.

---

In Hell's Keeper Mountain, there was a certain room. It's walls were of a deep blue and the floor was completely black. Runes made of light connected to each other, forming words that slid across the room and twisted around themselves in a strange manner. A thin layer of ice covered everything in the room, and a cold mist made it difficult to see.

It was an incredibly spacious room, being able to accommodate at least one hundred people. However, only one had the right to use it. A middle-aged man was sitting in the center of the room.

He had black hair and a straight nose. His features were sharp, and he gave off an oppressive feeling. He wore robes as black as his hair, and a curved saber laid in his crossed legs.

A layer of frost covered his black hair, and his clothes and his chest wasn't moving, as if he wasn't breathing at all. He seemed to be frozen to death. Suddenly, a cracking sound was heard.

The man slowly opened his eyes, and released a long breath, making a thick white mist flow from his mouth. He slowly raised his hands, looking at a thin golden thread tied around it. Numerous ornaments of different shapes and sizes could be seen attached to the golden thread.

The man looked closer, and saw that a small, inconspicuous sword-shaped green ornament had cracks in it. After a few moments, it finally gave in and shattered, falling apart.

The man didn't mind one bit. He just flickered his finger and sent the remains of the ornament flying to one side of the room. He was just a bit surprised. He didn't think that his son would manage to hold unto the talisman he had given him for ten whole years. He had completely forgotten the existence of that particular talisman.

He took a deep breath and returned to his meditation. Unmoving. Unbearably cold. However, it didn't take long before he was disturbed again.

A light knock echoed in the room, making the man sigh. He then flickered a finger, making the mist and the frost on him disappear. The layer of ice and the cold in the room, however, remained.

"Come in." He said, his voice as cold as his surroundings.

A small door hidden in a corner of the room opened, and a youth entered the room. At first he seemed to be affected by the cold, but a burst of energy exploded from him, and his body started emitting steam as his temperature rose to fight the cold. Every step he took made the ice at his feet melt.

Looking at this, the man gave a satisfied nod. His son's progress was fast as usual.

The youth had black hair and eyes, very similar to the man in front of him. Also very similar to Daniel. He had a handsome face, that exuded an heroic bearing that he could not hide. He had a prideful air about him, but didn't feel unapproachable.The youth bended a knee and kneeled on the floor.

"Father." He greeted. His father gave a light nod.

"You may speak." He said as his son stood up.

"Daniel is gravely injured. I heard he was attacked by a grown Direwolf in the Scavenging." Jake said, worry all over his face.

"He did use his talisman…" The man said, stroking his chin. His expression hadn't changed one bit at his son's words.

As he realized this, Jake's expression turned sour, feeling sad for Daniel. Their father was truly a cold man.

"The Elder Council has issued a hunt mission to take down the beast. I accepted it." He said, still trying to read some emotion from his father. "I'll be leaving with Karen and Joshua for a few days, so I came by to tell you."

"What if I say no? You still haven't finished you final round of purification." The man's voice was still cold, but a hint of annoyance could be felt in his tone.

"Well, Master already allowed me to go, so I'll be off. I just stopped by to notify you." Jake said as he bowed. A half-hearted, shallow bow.

Then, he turned around to leave, leaving behind a trail of steam and puddles of water as he walked out of the room. His father's brows pricked up, but before he could say anything, Jake was already gone.

Jake left the room greatly upset. The only reason he came by was to tell his father about his brother's predicament, but he got no reaction at all. Was it really worth to value strength to such lengths, to the point of ignoring your own blood?

Jake started rushing away to the place he would meet up with his companions. He would hunt that Direwolf down, even if to just avenge his brother.

Towards his older brother, Jake felt a mix of longing, love and pity.

Towards his father, Jake was starting to feel more and more disappointment.

Abyss Sect's Second Protector Lawrence Meyer could only sigh looking at his son. Jake was certainly starting to enter his rebel phase.

He sat down again and returned to his meditation. A new layer of frost covered him, and the mist covering the room formed anew. This time, no one disturbed him again.