And so Zeke passed his days, every day.

  And every night, he dreamed the sword was drowning him.

  He hated training. Papa was kind, but holding the dreadful sword was torturous.

  Over time, Zeke became increasingly irritable. He slayed the shade, over and over again, but even as the fights became increasingly difficult, he never felt progress.

  “What am I supposed to be doing?” he shouted at Papa one day after several rounds of combat practice. “I swing the sword. I kill the shade. Nothing changes. What’s the point? What am I doing wrong?”

  Papa calmly blinked at Zeke’s outburst. “Several points. One is to familiarize yourself with Lilith's horde. You will likely face several before your story ends. It’s important you know how they move and attack.

  “Second, you’re rejecting yourself. You’re rejecting the sword. It’s a part of you, yet you hate it. You’ll never master it that way. You need to embrace it.”

  Zeke scoffed. It was easy to say. Embrace prison. Embrace isolation and insanity. In a haunting, absurd way, it was almost beautiful. He tried to do as Papa ordered. Zeke took a slow breath and tried to surrender. His left hand caressed the ivory grain and detailed engraving. It felt smooth and strong. Closing his eyes, Zeke ran his fingers along the blade, accidentally nicking a finger. A drop of blood ran down the blade.

  Papa interrupted pensively, “But maybe we have been going too slow. Alright. Let’s speed things up.”

  Papa waved his hand and the cainkin shade evaporated into swirling darkness. With his other hand, Papa gathered more shadows and molded the darkness into a human shape.

  As the shade took form and definition, Zeke had an increasing foreboding. The shade’s brow, cheekbones, and jaw, its shoulders and shape, were all so familiar. Zeke felt an emotion he’d only read about in the books at home: hate.

  Zeke hated the man this shade resembled. Adam. Without knowing, he knew. This was the monster that trapped him for thousands of years. Murderer. Betrayer.

  Zeke launched himself at the shade. Casually, it blocked. Zeke attacked again and again, but nothing went through. Shade Adam was too fast. It went on the attack, and Zeke could barely deflect its blows, the dreadful sword was so heavy.

  Zeke took a kick to the chest and fell to the ground and then rolled away.

  Papa said, “You’re fighting two opponents. Stop fighting the blade and focus.”

  Shade Adam slowly stepped toward Zeke.

  Zeke pulled himself up. He embraced his rage and let it flow into the Ivory Blade, and then he swung it.

  Then the strangest thing happened. Zeke felt something, and then the edge of the blade disappeared and reappeared in the air next to Shade Adam, and as Zeke swung the Ivory Blade, the edge fell in the same arc, cleaving Shade Adam’s head.

  “What just happened?” Zeke asked.

  “You did it! You used your power. You doorwaed the edge of the blade. Again!”

  Shade Adam reassembled and attacked again. Zeke barely deflected in time. He jumped back and tried to cut from afar, as he did before, holding the thought and intention in his mind. Nothing.

  Shade Adam dashed forward and threw Zeke to the ground.

  “Use your power!” Papa ordered.

  “I’m trying!” he shouted. What am I doing wrong? Zeke wondered. He imagined reaching into the sword, where he sent his rage and hate. He concentrated on how it felt as the blade doorwaed itself. Zeke swung the sword. Nothing.

  Shade Adam attacked again, knocking Zeke to the ground.

  He tried again and again. Nothing.

  And again and again, Shade Adam knocked Zeke on his ass.

  Finally, Papa said enough.

  “Hey, you made a breakthrough today. Not only did you access your power for the first time, you’ve grown closer to the blade. You’re a much stronger fighter. I know today was hard, and I know being around the Ivory Blade takes a lot out of you, but I want you to appreciate this moment. Be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you, of the hard work you put in, and the progress you’ve made.”

  That lifted Zeke’s spirits immensely, even while holding the dreadful sword. He was surprised to feel both joy and grief at the same time, and in that moment he realized the misery he’d been feeling was grief. Zeke had never grieved anything before, so he hadn’t recognized it earlier.

  “Why am I like this? That shade was Adam, wasn’t it? How do I know that?”

  Papa gently took the dreadful sword and returned it to his shadow pocket, saying, “Your memories are stored in your brain, in your vessel. But your vessel has to experience a thing for you to remember it. Your soul has been around for many thousands of years, and it doesn’t remember the same way your vessel does. You have no memories of Adam, or being trapped in the Ivory Blade, but your soul remembers, and your vessel is reflecting that fear and anger. Sometimes ‘intuition’ is when the soul knows something your mind hasn’t figured out yet.”

  Papa conjured a shadow carpet to carry them home, where a surprise awaited them.

  Bright, colorful explosions surrounded their stone cottage.

  Aunt Gwen was back.

  Aunt Gwen was very small and young-looking. In fact, she looked like an 8-year-old child, but she was wise and a powerful illusionist. She had pixie shock-white hair and wore dark clothes and a jacket with lots of pockets.

  Zeke waved excitedly and ran the rest of the way home through vibrant, playful illusions. Aunt Gwen was waiting on the front porch with a playful grin. Zeke knelt to hug his aunt.

  ‘What’s new?’ he signed. ‘Did you bring me anything cool?’

  Aunt Gwen laughed and signed, ‘Of course! Your mama told me you’re a man now. It’s time I give you a man’s gift. No more candies. Anyway, your mama and I ate them all while we were waiting for you.’ Gwen laughed again. 'Now where did I put that darn thing? Oh, ha. Right here! How embarrassing.' Aunt Gwen uncinched one of her belts and handed Zeke a sheathed longknife.

  It was a quarter the size and weight of the Ivory Blade. He drew the knife from its scabbard. The edge was one-sided and gently curved. The handle was unadorned yet elegant, with a small knuckle bow guard. Made of good steel and razor-sharp, this was a discreet weapon of a master assassin.

  ‘My big sister Morgan gave me this longknife. One day, you’ll meet her. Now I give it to you, my darling nephew. Carry this and know that you’re loved and supported.’

  Zeke hugged Aunt Gwen again and thanked her profusely.

  Then they all sat down to eat dinner. Mama had prepared a mushroom risotto with fish and carrots. Aunt Gwen lit the room with dancing, sparkling pixies.

  ‘Tell us about the war,’ Zeke asked.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Aunt Gwen sighed sadly, ‘The war is over. We lost. Now we hide and survive. We wait for hope. We move refugees into safe homes, like this one here. There aren’t many left. With 3 Ikons, Adam is still godly powerful. The Shell Gauntlet gives him control over water and air. Adam’s Crown gives him unlimited energy and connects him to every familiar on Eden. The Steelfeather Band makes him intangible at will, so he can’t be touched. On top of that, he has an army of zealots and familiars all over the world, all looking for the lost Ikons. Looking for you. But we’re still here, and that means he hasn’t won yet. And maybe one day, if we’re lucky, we can liberate another Ikon or two or three. Even one more Ikon could change the scales. But that’s a bridge to cross another day. In the meantime, how are your new studies?’

  ‘Grueling. But I used my power for the first time today!’

  Mama and Aunt Gwen both reacted excitedly. The pixie illusions burst in surprise like tiny fireworks. Papa smiled and ate his carrots.

  ‘But it only happened one time. I swung the Ivory Blade and it cut something far away. I don’t know how to replicate it yet, but Papa and I are gonna train until I master it.’

  Mama and Aunt Gwen were beaming with pride and joy.

  ‘Of course, you will,’ signed Aunt Gwen. ‘And when the day comes those skills are needed, we’ll be there alongside you.’

  That night, Zeke dreamed he was running. Or was he jumping?

  He was fleeing something- no, someone. Adam.

  Someone was with him. Someone helped him.

  Betrayal. A stab to the heart.

  Adam’s smug, perfect face leering down at him.

  Then emptiness. Stretching out forever.

  No escape.

  Ezekiel woke screaming and drenched in sweat.

  -8-

  And so Zeke passed his nights, every night. For years.

  His usual care-free nature buried itself under depression and resentment. He considered hating his parents. He hated his own cowardice and fear. He hated these awful feelings. More than anything, he hated that damn sword.

  One night, Zeke woke from another night terror. His bed was soaked, again. A crazy thought came to him. What if he ran away? The caves were massive. He could forage mushrooms and bugs forever. His parents might never find him.

  Zeke knew it was ridiculous, but he wasn’t thinking. He was still panicking after the night terror. He grabbed a bag of supplies and tiptoed out of the house, his heart pounding in his chest as he ran away from home and into darkness.

  He ran for a long time through caverns he’d been forbidden to venture. He foraged a light breakfast using a lantern crafted from glow bugs.

  Zeke felt a wave, like a light breeze, and he knew he’d been caught.

  Here in the dark, there was nowhere to hide from Papa. He walked out of the shadows as if through a door, instantly at Zeke’s side.

  Papa looked concerned but remained silent.

  “Leave me alone!” Zeke yelled, finally. “I don’t care about the world or your war! I’ll stay here forever and they’ll never find me. I won’t touch that damn sword, and you can’t make me!”

  Papa looked devastated and conflicted. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he said, “Okay,” and stepped back into the shadows.

  Zeke was stunned and alone. Did Papa mean it? Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Would he leave Zeke?

  Zeke started sobbing. He was so scared and ashamed.

  What was gonna happen now? Did Zeke ruin everything?

  Zeke couldn’t go home that night. Instead, he stayed up exploring the vast cave system. There was still so much he hadn’t seen, even after spending his entire childhood here. But eventually, Zeke realized why this particular cave route had been forbidden: it was nearly barren. He found a couple bugs, but after a day, Zeke got hungry and cold enough to go back home.

  Mama was waiting at the table with a warm hug and a bowl of oats with berries. She poured hot water over the oats when he sat at the table.

  Mama didn’t mention his absence last night except to embrace him and say, “I love you so much, and I’m glad you’re back. Please don’t scare me like that again.”

  “I won’t, Mama,” Zeke promised.

  That’s when Papa walked into the kitchen. He was carrying something small in his arms.

  “Hi, son,” he said with a smile. He didn’t look angry or disappointed as he sat down at the table across from Zeke.

  Papa continued, “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I went for a walk. While I was out, I heard screaming. An ocelot was raiding a nest of minks. This little guy was the only survivor.”

  He pulled back a blanket to reveal an adorable baby mink. His eyes were open and curious. He had black fur with little white booties.

  “Would you like to hold him?” Papa asked.

  Zeke nodded enthusiastically and accepted the tiny bundle. As the little mink stared up at him, an incredible peace came to Zeke. He felt himself relax and take joy in the moment like he used to do.

  Animals had that effect on Zeke. Growing up in a cave, the pet goats were his best friends. But he’d been so wrapped up in training and his misery, Zeke had forgotten how much he loved his home and his family.

  “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday,” Zeke said quietly. “I didn’t mean it.”

  Papa smiled sadly. “I know, son. But what you said got me thinking. I need to tell you a story, about what happened after I stole the sword… after Lilith did this to me,” Papa touched his scarred face, “I spent years wandering Eden, looking for your mama. Her island was destroyed. I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. So I searched for years. And in that time, I saw people grow up. I saw them have kids and raise them, and as I watched them, something broke in me a little bit. I realized what my life had always lacked: parents. Lilith wasn’t so much my mother as she was my queen and master. And my father… well, the less said about him...

  “So when I finally found your mama again and we made the plan to make you, I was so excited but also terrified that I might hurt you like Lilith hurt me. So I begged your mama to take the lead for a few years because I didn’t trust myself. To tell you the truth, I’ve been terrified this entire time. But seeing you hurt yesterday, I realized something: I would do anything, give anything if I could take this pain away from you. I’m your father, and I love you more than anything in the world.

  “If you want to hide, I’ll help you hide. If you want to burn the world, I’ll help you burn it. I’ve been training you because I believe it’s the only way you’ll live a long life, but if you won’t train, I won’t make you. Take a few days with your new friend and think on it. No matter what you decide, I’ll support you.”

  Zeke didn’t need days to decide.

  He loved his parents. He trusted them. And if they said he needed to master the Ivory Blade, then he would. Embarrassed by his outburst, Zeke returned to training the next day, determined to improve. His parents never mentioned it again, but they loved him even more fiercely than before.

  Zeke’s skills didn’t improve very much, but his strength developed rapidly. It took him months to master the doorwaed blade technique.

  The secret was so obvious in hindsight.

  After a particularly rough session with a training shade, Zeke bumped his head against a rock, and a drop of blood fell from his brow onto the Ivory Blade. When he swung the sword next, Zeke felt a familiar sensation, and the blade carved the shade in twain at a distance.

  His blood activated the sword’s power.

  Specifically his blood, as nothing seemed to happen when Mama or Papa bled on the sword. Whenever Zeke’s blood touched the blade, all he had to do was focus, and he could cut anything, anywhere he could see.

  -8-

  By Zeke’s twentieth birthday, he hardly recognized himself. His arms and shoulders had filled out. Little scars marked his body like a tapestry. Fresh bruises were a constant, and harsh worry lines cracked his face and forehead. He had no frame of reference to compare, but Zeke had grown up fast and lethal.

  Were it not for Dook, Zeke would surely have given in to misery. Dook was what he named the baby mink. Dook was free to roam and hunt, but he always came home to sleep in Zeke’s warm, soft bed.

  Mama said it was important Dook could survive on his own, so Zeke spent most of his free time acclimating Dook to the outdoors and helping him learn to hunt. Dook was a vicious little killer to be sure, but so cute. He loved bathtime and playing chase. Zeke played with Dook every night after training, and those little games helped Zeke remember joy and himself.

  Early one morning, while Zeke was snuggling Dook in bed, an explosion shook the ground and woke him up. Dook fell out of bed and scurried to his favorite hiding spot.

  Zeke grabbed his longknife and put on clothes. Then he ran outside to find the sky was falling. Literally. The cave ceiling had been blasted wide open, and sunlight was cascading into their home like a revelation from on high.

  Blinded by the light, Zeke had never seen so much direct sunlight before.

  He could barely see, but he heard Papa’s voice next to him shout, “We’re under attack! Take the blade and run with Mama. I’ll be right behind you. Go!”

  Papa threw the Ivory Blade into Zeke’s arms and pushed him away. “Go!”

  Zeke shuffled back, squinting and closing his eyes, reaching out for something to hold onto. A hand grabbed his tightly.

  “Hurry, this way,” Mama said and pulled him into a run. Zeke stumbled but Mama kept him upright.

  Zeke’s vision was returning but he had to look down to shield his eyes.

  Zeke briefly glanced back and saw Papa fighting a swarm of bizarre, flying leaf monsters. He was all on his own, and wielding a shadow sword and shield. Papa launched himself off the ground and summoned shadowy black wings to fight the plant-like, insectoid aliens in the air.

  Papa was careful to stay out of direct sunlight, where his shadow constructs would break down.

  “Hey!” Mama hissed. “Don’t look back.”

  Zeke did as he was told.

  Mama led him to a corner wall Zeke had never explored closely. It looked like a nondescript dead-end until Mama pushed a stone aside to reveal a slide.

  As Mama moved the rock, Zeke couldn’t resist looking back to see how Papa was faring. Papa was still midair but bloody. The leaf/bug monsters had torn large chunks of flesh from his already mangled body.

  Suddenly, a beam of light blasted from above and struck Papa in the chest. He crashed into the ground. The leaves swarmed on him.

  “No!” Zeke shouted. Some of the leaf creatures heard and flew toward them.

  “Time to go,” Mama said, pulling him and pushing him down the hole. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  That’s what Papa said.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” Zeke shouted, but he was already sliding into the narrow, dark escape, still holding the dreadful Ivory Blade.