THE DRAGON SWORD

Chapter Two

The sky above the battlements churned like a storm of fire and shadow. Lightning streaked across the heavens, illuminating the jagged fissure that had split the ground. Gideon Justiceborn tightened his grip on the Dragon Sword, its radiant light clashing with the dark, seething energy of the blade wielded by the woman before him.

She stood as an enigma fierce, commanding, and unsettlingly familiar. Her obsidian armor glinted in the eerie glow, and the Blade of Shadow in her hand seemed to drink the light around it. Her smile was sharp and calculating, but her crimson eyes betrayed something deeper: recognition.

“Brother,” she said again, the word dripping with both mockery and strange affection. “Do you feel it? The bond that ties us? The truth that neither Roderic nor your precious academy dared to tell you?”

Gideon’s chest burned where the mark had appeared, pulsing in rhythm with the tension in the air. He felt a pull toward her, as though the very forces of fate were entwining their paths. But his voice was steady, his resolve unshaken. “I don’t know who you are, but I won’t let you twist the truth to your will.”

The woman laughed, a sound that sent shivers through the assembled knights. “Oh, how noble. Just like Aerioneth himself. But tell me, Gideon…” Her gaze bored into him, unrelenting. “Do you even know why that sword chose you? Why does it burns in your hand while others falter before its light?”

Roderic stepped forward, his blade raised defensively. “Enough! Leave this place, shadowspawn, or face the wrath of the White Knights.”

She turned her attention to the commander, her expression softening into something akin to pity. “You think your title frightens me, old man? I’ve seen kingdoms crumble under lesser blades than mine.”

Without warning, she raised the Blade of Shadow, and the air around her rippled with dark energy. Tendrils of shadow lashed out, striking the stone walls with a force that sent chunks of rock tumbling into the courtyard below. Knights scrambled to shield themselves, their courage wavering in the face of such power.

Gideon didn’t move. His heart pounded, his thoughts racing, but a strange calm settled over him. The Dragon Sword felt alive in his grasp, its warmth steadying his nerves. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his eyes locked on hers. “What do you want from me?”

Her smile faded, replaced by something more genuine something that looked almost like sorrow. “My name is Lysandra,” she said softly. “And what I want, Gideon, is for you to see the truth. The Light and the Shadow were never meant to be enemies. They are two halves of the same whole. Together, they can bring balance or destruction.”

Gideon hesitated. Her words were like a seed planted in his mind, growing roots of doubt. He glanced at Roderic, whose expression was one of pure defiance, but also…fear?

“Don’t listen to her lies!” Roderic barked. “She is an agent of the Dark Lord, sent to corrupt you and claim the Dragon Sword. Stand firm, Gideon!”

Lysandra’s eyes narrowed. “Of course he’d say that. The Light fears what it doesn’t understand.” Her gaze softened as she turned back to Gideon. “You’re stronger than their fear, brother. You can choose your own path.”

Before Gideon could respond, the tension snapped like a bowstring. Lysandra lunged, her Blade of Shadow carving through the air in an arc of dark fire. Gideon barely had time to raise the Dragon Sword, its radiant light clashing violently with her blade. The force of their collision sent shockwaves rippling through the battlements, throwing knights and debris in all directions.

The clash wasn’t just physical it was a war of wills. The Dragon Sword burned hotter in Gideon’s grasp, as though urging him to fight, to push back against the encroaching darkness. But with each strike, Lysandra’s words echoed in his mind. Was she truly his enemy? Or was she something more?

“Focus, Gideon!” Roderic shouted, charging forward to join the fray. His blade swung toward Lysandra, but she moved with a dancer’s grace, sidestepping his attack and retaliating with a shadowy tendril that knocked him back.

“This isn’t your fight, old man,” she said coldly. “You don’t belong in what’s coming.”

Gideon surged forward, his blade meeting hers once more. Sparks flew as Light and Shadow collided, the energy crackling around them like a storm. He gritted his teeth, his muscles straining under the weight of her strength.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded, his voice ragged. “If we’re truly connected, why attack the academy? Why kill?”

Lysandra’s gaze hardened, and for the first time, her composure cracked. “Because they would rather see the world burn than accept the truth. They’ve lied to you, Gideon. Lied to all of us. The Dark Lord isn’t the monster they’ve painted him to be.”

Her words hit like a hammer. Gideon faltered, and she seized the opening, knocking him back with a surge of dark energy. He skidded across the stone, his breath knocked from his lungs.

Roderic rushed to his side, pulling him to his feet. “Don’t listen to her! She’s manipulating you!”

Gideon shook his head, confusion swirling like a storm within him. “Then tell me the truth, Roderic! Why does she know about the Dragon Sword? About me?”

The commander’s face tightened, his usual stoicism faltering. “There are…things you’re not ready to know, Gideon. But trust me when I say this: she is your enemy. Nothing more.”

Lysandra stood at the edge of the battlements, her blade lowered but still radiating dark power. “You see it now, don’t you?” she called out, her voice carrying over the howling wind. “Even Roderic can’t deny it. You were never meant to be their pawn, Gideon. You were meant to be so much more.”

She extended her hand toward him, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. “Join me. Together, we can end this cycle of war and lies. We can forge a new path one where Light and Shadow stand as one.”

Gideon’s mind raced. He glanced at the knights surrounding him, their faces a mixture of fear and hope. He looked at Roderic, whose sword remained raised, his stance unwavering. And then he looked at Lysandra—at the sincerity in her eyes, the raw passion in her voice.

“I don’t—” he began, but his words were cut off by a sudden, ear-splitting roar. The ground beneath them trembled, and the fissure widened. From its depths emerged a massive creature, its body wreathed in flames and shadow. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Gideon, and it let out a deafening bellow.

“The Dark Lord’s herald,” Roderic muttered, his face pale. “This…this is what she’s brought upon us.”

Lysandra’s expression shifted to one of grim determination. “This is what happens when you cling to the past, Roderic. The darkness grows restless, and it will consume everything if we don’t act.”

The creature lunged, its massive claws raking through the air. Gideon didn’t think he moved. The Dragon Sword guided his hand, its light flaring as he met the beast’s attack head-on. The impact sent a shockwave through the battlements, but he held his ground.

“Gideon!” Lysandra shouted. “You can’t face it alone! Use the power of the mark!”

He hesitated, the burning sensation in his chest growing stronger. The mark pulsed, its light intertwining with the energy of the Dragon Sword. He could feel the power coursing through him, but it was wild, unrestrained.

“Don’t listen to her!” Roderic yelled. “That power will corrupt you!”

“Gideon, trust yourself!” Lysandra countered. “You’ve always been more than what they’ve told you. Let go of their chains and embrace what you are!”

The creature roared again, its fiery breath scorching the air around them. Gideon’s grip tightened on the Dragon Sword. His  heart pounded, his mind racing.

This was his moment. His choice.

With a roar of his own, Gideon thrust the Dragon Sword into the ground. A wave of light exploded outward, meeting the creature’s darkness head-on. The air crackled with raw energy, the battlements shaking under the strain.

When the light subsided, Gideon stood at the center of the destruction, his chest heaving. The creature was gone, its form dissipated into smoke. But so was Lysandra.

“She’s escaped,” Roderic said grimly, lowering his blade. “And she’ll return with greater forces.”

Gideon stared at the spot where she had stood, her words still echoing in his mind. The mark on his chest burned brighter than ever, a constant reminder of the choice he had yet to make.

As the knights began to regroup, a single question consumed him:

Was Lysandra right?

Far below, in the depths of the fissure, a pair of crimson eyes glowed, watching, waiting.