Frey’s Mansion
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Zahara feels a sense of dread encompass her, but subdues it and enters what seems to be a large hall. She sees the other door next to her and realises that it exits to the very same hall as well. Turns out that her choice didn’t matter after all. Paintings of several iconic events in history adorn the walls, and at one end of the room, a large cauldron sits in a furnace, radiating a terribly golden glow. She sees a man engrossed in the contents of the cauldron. Alerted by her footsteps, he turns around to face her.
“I see you’re finally awake,” he says. “The name’s Frey. Mercer Frey.”
“Where am I? What’s going on?” she asks, confused.
Frey studies her for a moment. “It’s almost time to fill the mold, so if you would excuse me…” With that he turns away and heads to the cauldron and turns it to its side. The metal flows into the mould slowly. Frey takes it over to a basin filled with water and dunks it in.
A plume of steam billows from the basin as the metal cools. The water hisses and boils away as it comes in contact with the hot metal inside. After a few seconds, Frey takes the mould and drops it to the floor.
It shatters and Zahara sees metal gleaming; a slightly curved blade, forked at the tip like a serpent’s tongue which has several runic inscriptions along its length.
“The blade of Zulfiqar!” Frey proclaims as he inspects the craftsmanship. “Wrought from Damascus Steel, fit for hunting demons from beyond the realms of mortals. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.”
As this happens, two figures appear from one of the other rooms. One seems to be a young girl, probably in her early teens. An old man walks beside her, with a beard greyed by age, who seemed to be her father.
Frey turns around to see them. “Zahara, meet Manal and Kane. They have kindly consented to help me in my quest.”
“Quest? What do you mean by quest?” Zahara asks, a feeling of uncertainty building up within her.
He tilts his head to one side and walks towards her, blade in hand.
“This sword has been designed to help me in my quest to rid this world of all things evil. However, I require one final ingredient before the blade can attain its full potential — dragon blood.”
Zahara’s senses go into overdrive. Frey had looked directly at her while saying dragon blood. And his face still had that look of distrust directed at her. Distrust that was slowly turning hostile.
Like a lamb to slaughter, she had been led here. Manal and Kane were looking at her intently, but she could sense that they were poised to attack at any moment.
“And how lucky am I to have gotten dragon and demon together delivered to me in one fine package,” he laughs. He lunges at Zahara, the sword raised to her heart.
Glossary:
Frey — an Iranian mythical king, he is an emblem of victory, justice, and generosity.
Zulfiqar — Known as the spine-splitter, this double-pointed scimitar was named after one of the stars of Orion’s belt.
