The Wind from the West. Part 18

I am the Knight. I'm new. Be nice to me.


Russia. It's been too long, hasn't it? I remember these streets--I remember the wind that blows through these hills. But are these my memories? I looked down at the sword in my hands. It was pretty normal looking, without any major ornamentation, but it was still beautiful. There was something about it that was a lot more than met the eye. When I held it I felt powerful. But that's not the only thing the sword was doing to me. When I dropped my guard I felt my memory warping, combining with the sword's former owner.

The sword was given to me by my uncle--an uncle who I never knew--hell, an uncle who I never even knew I had until a few days ago. He died. And for some reason he left me this sword. I put it back in its scabbard on my back and kept walking. I wasn't quite sure where I was, what town I was in, but I was looking for answers. Because of the sword I was starting to gather information from my uncle's life, but I wasn't clear on everything. All I knew was that there was a nagging feeling in my chest, pulling me in this direction, toward Russia and now north, into the cold.

It occurred to me that I didn't bring anywhere near enough clothes. My hands were red and shaking and my ears were colder than I remember them ever being. It was hard to adjust from the heat of Alabama, where I'd spent all of my life, to the cold of this place. Right then I was in a small town, but there was no one else around. They were probably smart enough to avoid the cold, to stay inside and snuggle with their ladies around a nice cozy fire. But hell, I had no ladies, and I had no fire. All I had was a sword and a light coat and a mysterious force that was pulling me forward.

I thought for moment of my family back in Alabama, but didn't think too much of it. They'd be fine without me, and I'd have a hell of a good time by myself. But the one thing I couldn't stand about all this was that I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing. I knew I wanted to find out about my uncle, and what his mission for me was, but it seemed like he was just trying to live through me by using this sword. But whatever he meant for me, I felt something strange approaching from ahead. I pulled the sword back out, and even though I had no training whatsoever in combat, when I held it I felt powerful.

I turned left into an alley and saw something there, moving apparently just beyond my plain of vision, and yet there it was. It looked like heat waves, like mist. I raised the sword at it.

"What are you?" I said.

"I am the Rakasha," is said. It's voice was strong but faint, like he was growling at me from inside my head.

"That doesn't really help."

"I am what you would call a demon, I suppose."

"Oh. Jolly good, then, right?" I raised the sword higher, not sure what would happen next.

"I just wanted to see what you looked like. I knew your uncle. Fought your uncle. But our relationship was more complicated than that."

"Does this mean we have to fight?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Probably." And then he was gone, carried off into the wind.

"Shit," I said to myself. I put my sword back on my back and kept walking, drawn by an invisible force into the nakedness of this landscape.


-The Knight