Destiny of the Sword

Silas subtly moved onward as the others tried to piece together the history this cathedral was host to. Their voices rose higher than Silas’ fondness, but he said nothing as he left them to their debate. He eased his way through the war rubble, making every effort to progress without any further disturbances. And then he saw a separate room ahead with a dancing light trickling out. To his surprise, the light was coming from a row of burning torches on the room’s outer wall. Even though previous signs pointed to this kingdom being unoccupied for decades, the torch light implied they weren’t alone. So he advanced with caution—his hand on a ready sword. With the chatter of his companions another room and a faint whisper away, Silas walked past a line of decorative warrior statues as he surveyed the area. Most were colorless, stone figures similar to humans. But one stood out—bright colors and a curvy female build. She was a beautifully formed goddess. The statue had a base which was three feet high, making the entire height of the mystifying goddess stand nearly nine feet tall. She was draped in purple and blue coverings with white trim along the edges. The goddess’ golden hair sparkled and flared wildly while her yellowish eyes fixed a gaze on whoever stood before her. The only unfitting aspect presented in the statue was that her face, arms, and hands were portrayed with a grayish skin tone—a feature which collided with an otherwise vibrant and lively work of art. Still, Silas found it difficult to look away from her. Her beauty. Her mystery. Her familiarity. The statue was almost humanlike. In fact, her face and figure looked a great deal like a human female, except her eyes were slightly larger and more rounded than a human. Silas gazed into those eyes, and the goddess seemed to stare right back at him, watching his every subtle twitch. He was infatuated by the magnificently captured sculpture, but Silas had lingered long enough, and he could hear his companions’ chatter getting closer. One last glance was all he would spare the goddess of this ancient kingdom. He looked into her eyes again... but she wasn’t staring at him anymore! Her attention was beyond him in the direction of his party! Silas instantly thought his eyes had deceived him. How could a statue appear differently than just seconds before? He rubbed his eyes hard and refocused on the goddess... but she was still looking past him. But then, suddenly, her eyes turned back onto him like a nightmare coming alive! Her stare was cold and vicious. Silas felt his heartbeat quicken as her eyes judged him and questioned his presence. He felt the urge to say something—but at that moment, words failed him. “Who are you?” the goddess abruptly demanded, in a deep, dark voice, breaking from her subterfuge stance while leaning down toward him. Silas’ mouth opened—but no words came out, and all he did was stare back at her in complete disbelief. “Tell me your name!” she insisted, further rattling his sanity. His once lovely goddess now seemed more like a wicked sprite only born of campfire tales. Silas concentrated solely on calming his racing nerves, but she demanded an answer of him with her devilish stare! Finally, he opened his mouth. “Silas. Silas Halifax,” he carefully answered.