Chapter 8:

As the sun set over the sleepy village, Lisbeth ushered Thomas, now twelve years old, to his bed.

"Go to sleep, my child," she said, "Tomorrow's a busy day. After your lesson, you're going to help me tend to the fields, alright?"

"Of course, mother," Thomas said with a smile.

As Thomas climbed into bed, Lisbeth was momentarily overcome by a coughing fit.

"Mother," began Thomas, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," assured Lisbeth, lightly tapping her chest, "Everything's fine, I just…"

Just then, Lisbeth was interrupted by a loud and frantic knocking at the front door.

"Who could it be at this hour?" she wondered.

"Lisbeth!" cried a familiar voice from the other side, "Open the door, please! I really need to speak with you!"

"Stay here, Thomas," she commanded.

Thomas nodded and remained in his bed while Lisbeth answered the door.

"Lisbeth!" said Harold, standing at the doorway, "May I come in, please? It's quite chilly out!"

Before Lisbeth could reply, Harold invited himself in. He was not his usual prim and proper self, instead appearing unshaven and disheveled. As he stepped near her, she could smell alcohol on his breath.

"Harold," she said, "I'm well aware that I've fallen behind on payment, but now is really not a good time. It is late and…"

"Shhh," said Harold, "I know, Lisbeth, I know. Please forgive my rather (hic) unkempt appearance, it's just…You see, today marks the fifth anniversary of Evelyn's passing."

"Oh dear. I'm terribly sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

As Lisbeth and Harold spoke, Thomas approached his bedroom door and spied on them through the small opening.

"Why, yes there is!" Harold exclaimed, "I can only imagine how lonely it gets around here with Robert gone all the bloody time. Perhaps you and I can (hic) keep each other company, yes?"

"No," Lisbeth replied sternly, "I've made this very clear to you already. I could never betray Robert. You will just have to find someone else…"

"But I've always loved you, Lisbeth! You were the one who lifted my spirits when Evelyn passed and filled my heart with joy and warmth when I was at my weakest…Please, Lisbeth? Your husband need not find out."

As Harold advanced on Lisbeth, she backed away in fear.

"Harold, please," she begged, "You need rest. Just go home!"

From behind the doorway, Thomas' hands began to tremble with a mix of fear and rage.

"I can make it all go away," Harold promised, "All of your debt to me will be gone if you do this for me. Young Thomas will get all the (hic) education he needs and you may finally have peace of mind. What do you say now?"

Lisbeth contemplated for a moment, and then lowered her head in shame. Placing her hand on her left shoulder, she began to remove her dress.

"Yes," said Harold, "That's it…"

Impatiently, Harold wrapped his arms around Lisbeth's waist and pulled her close to him, causing her to yelp in surprise.

"Stop it, Harold!" Lisbeth cried, "Not so fast!"

Enraged, young Thomas burst through the doorway and charged towards Harold as fast as he could.

"NO THOMAS!" Lisbeth cried, breaking away from Harold, "DON'T!"

Before Harold could react, Thomas pushed the man with all of his strength, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto a nearby table, breaking it in half. Lisbeth wrapped her arms around Thomas and pulled him close to her. Together, they watched Harold struggle to his feet while clutching his aching back.

"RAAAGH!" he cried, "THAT'S IT!"

"Harold," began Lisbeth, "Listen…"

"No," he snapped, "You listen: It's over! I'm not some charity for you to abuse as you please. Whatever deals you and I made are off! No more financial aid, no more lessons for Thomas, no more…ANYTHING! And you have him to blame for that!"

As he spoke, he pointed at Thomas, who glared at him defiantly.

"Please Harold," Lisbeth, "We can still work something out!"

"There's nothing to work out! Don't you ever contact me for anything again, understand?"

With that, Harold stormed out of the door. That would be the last time he and Lisbeth ever spoke.

"M-Mother?" Thomas whimpered.

Lisbeth let go of Thomas and sunk to the ground against the wall. Thomas knelt down beside her.

"What have you done, Thomas?" she sobbed.

"I thought he was hurting you," Thomas replied, "You looked sad and I wanted to help you. Just like you said you'd always be there for me…I want to be there for you as well."

Without saying another word, Lisbeth embraced her son.

"What happens now, mother?" Thomas whispered.

"I don't know, Thomas," she said, "I don't know…"

-End Flashback-

"The noise came from somewhere round 'ere," said a voice.

As Thomas came to, he could hear the sound of mercenaries closing in on his location. Looking around, he found himself to be in a large, partially-flooded room lined with columns. Still dazed from the fall, Thomas was unsure of how to proceed, until he felt someone grabbing his back. Thomas looked up and saw Harold standing above him.

"Sir?" he whispered.

Harold placed a finger against his mouth and led Thomas to a small alcove in the wall where both men sought cover. Moments later, three mercenaries entered the room and looked around.

"I don't see nothin'," said one of them.

"Come on," said another, "Let's regroup with the others!"

Once they were in the clear, Thomas and Harold stepped out from their hiding spot and breathed a sigh of relief.

"If you don't mind me asking," began Thomas, "What the hell has gotten into you? Why on earth did you come down here?"

"I-I-I don't know..." replied Harold.

"You mean you've no idea why you stole our map and ran into Camelot without any plan of action?"

"I-I saw no other option! I…Had to set things right."

"'Set things right'? Sir, what aren't you telling me?"

Harold whimpered for a moment before breaking down.

"Oh, Thomas!" he sobbed, "This is all my doing! I'm the reason the Bird of Passage found this place!"

"What? But how?"

"Remember back at the shop? When you left me alone in that room?"

-Flashback-

As Harold stood in the room, waiting for Thomas to return, he heard a noise behind.

"Ah, Thomas," he said, "Thank God..."

Upon turning around, he saw Alura instead, advancing on him.

"You?" said Harold, backing away in fear.

"Allow me to tell you a story," Alura began, "Millenia ago, a warrior-king created what would come to be known as 'Excalibur' from a single fragment of Soul Edge. When he died, each of the two swords ended up under the protection of secret tribes. Years later, a mad knight stole Soul Edge, killed the tribe watching over it, and wreaked havoc across the known world.

An old warrior was chosen by the other tribe to wield Excalibur and destroy Soul Edge. He succeeded, but both swords were damaged and lost. That old warrior came to be known as the 'Edge Master', and is the very same man travelling with your friend, Thomas."

"What?" said Harold, "That's impossible! That was thousands of years ago. He would have to be..."

"Immortal? Why, yes. You see, when the two swords clashed, it released forth a burst of energy that permanently stopped his ageing. Don't believe me? Ask him yourself."

"What on Earth does this story have to do with anything?"

"Earlier, you presented me with a very interesting dilemma; how does one threaten a man who no longer fears death? The answer: You offer him life, of course!"

"You mean...You can cure me of my ailment? Make me immortal?"

"Excalibur can make most anyone immortal, but that is a secret Edge Master seeks to suppress. It is why he has devoted his eternal life to finding and destroying the two swords; he believes no soul is worthy enough to live and die on their own terms like him."

"But if you found Excalibur instead, you'd let me use it, correct? What would you have me do?"

"There is a map, but it is broken into three pieces. Your friends have one, while Fenrir and I know the location of another. All we need is the third piece in order to find the spirit sword. Your friends came to you because you possess a lead. Take them wherever they need to go, just make sure to leave us a teensy trail of breadcrumbs, hm?"

"I don't know...Can I really betray Thomas like that?"

"Trust me, this way is much better for everyone, ja? We get our sword, you get eternal life, and your friends will all be spared pointless, agonizing deaths. Think about it...Just make sure this conversation stays between us, okay?"

As Harold pondered the deal, Thomas and the others appeared at the window behind him. Alura backed away, smiling.

"So I did my part," Harold explained, "I left them a trail of whatever I had on me – Pieces of cloth, food crumbs – And as a consequence, they were never far behind us."

-End Flashback-

"So," began Thomas, clenching his fist, "It was you…"

"She assured me this was the best course of action," Harold pleaded, "I obviously didn't mean for this to happen! She had promised me no harm would ever..."

Without warning, Thomas grabbed Harold by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall.

"YOU IDIOT!" he cried, "You took the word of an assassin? What in the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Shush, Thomas!" Harold pleaded, "You'll give away our position!"

"I don't care!" Thomas yelled while slamming Harold against the wall again, "The Birds have done nothing but try and kill us since our paths crossed, yet you actually believed they would honour your deal?"

"I know," Harold said, breaking free from Thomas' grasp, "I came to that realization once we'd arrived in Winchester, but by that point it was too late to shake them. Believe me, I have nothing but regret for what I've done. I just…Couldn't bring myself to tell you sooner."

"So you regret what you've done, eh? Well, that just makes it all better, doesn't it? God, you are nothing but a worm; a greedy, self-serving parasite, infecting the lives of everyone you've ever known! That is the reason why you haven't a friend left in this world!"

Harold buried his face into his hands and sank to the floor.

"I know, Thomas," he sobbed, "I know…Please forgive me!"

"It's just like all those years ago; helping my family in our time of need – Not out of kindness or compassion, but so that you could have your way with Lisbeth! Did you really think I'd forget about all that and move on just because you were 'kind' enough to let me live and work in your shop? HA! No wonder I ran from you!"

Harold continued to cry while Thomas paced around the room in frustration. As Thomas observed his pitiful former boss, a look of regret came upon his face. Had his words been too harsh? No, he thought, Harold deserved it for what he did. And yet…

"Where are we, anyways?" Thomas finally spoke after minutes of silence.

After collecting himself, Harold opened the map and held a lantern up to it.

"According to this," he said, "We're somewhere on the second floor."

"Does the map say where the tablet is?" asked Thomas.

"No, but the map makes note of a secret entrance in the foyer, locked by some sort of mechanism. Perhaps it's there?"

"The foyer, huh? Right, well like it or not, we're in this together now, so if you're truly willing to set things right, then help me find that tablet. Ready to get moving?"

"Before we go," Harold began, "There's something else you should know. I overheard some of those mercenaries earlier. They had an Aval soldier with them – A hostage, most likely – They may be using him as a guide."

"All the more reason to hurry up then," noted Thomas, "Just be careful in here. This place is centuries old and one wrong move can bring it all down, alright?"

"Of course."


Back in the village, Edge Master and Alura continued their battle. Alura laughed madly as she twirled in place and passed the ringblade from wrist-to-wrist, keeping Edge Master on the defensive.

"Oh my," she cried, "This is so much fun!"

"Enough, Alura!" Edge Master snapped, deflecting another attack, "This needs to end now, before it gets worse!"

Edge Master backflipped to put some distance between himself and Alura. In response, she rushed him, pressing her ringblade up against his staff.

"I know you fought Fenrir once before," she said, poking her head through the ringblade, "He told me all about you!"

Suddenly, Edge Master pushed Alura off of him and delivered a low attack, which she blocked. He then followed that up with a kick that struck her in the face, knocking her back. For a moment, the two eyed each other. As blood dripped down from Alura's nose onto her lips, she sensually licked it off.

"Since that day," she continued, "I looked forward to challenging you. Oh, what joy it will be to watch you lay in pieces, breathing your last. My last - And greatest - kill before leaving that incestuous cult for good."

"Sorry to disappoint, Alura," began Edge Master, "But I am on a mission, and no one will be killing me today."

Alura's smiled instantly turned into a scowl as she lunged for her opponent once more.


Nearby, Geweldich continued his battle against Fenrir. The Aval knight slammed each of his swords down on Fenrir, who raised his ringblade and blocked each blow. Using his superior strength, the Dane pushed Geweldich back, then performed a leaping slash that Geweldich blocked by crossing both swords in front of his face. The impact sent him sliding backwards several inches.

"Ah-Ha!" boasted Geweldich, "Is that the best you've got?"

Fenrir smirked and spun the ringblade around his forearm, forcing Geweldich to maintain his guard. The knight slipped to Fenrir's side and kicked him in the ribs, knocking him off balance. As Geweldich went for the kill, Fenrir quickly recovered and deflected the attack on time.

"Don't know when to quit, eh?" said Geweldich, side-stepping another blow.

Geweldich recommenced his assault, trying to force his way past Fenrir's defense. He deceived Fenrir into blocking high by feinting, and then landed a low strike that sliced Fenrir's thigh, causing him to howl in pain and sink to one knee. Satisfied, Geweldich reconnected his two swords at the hilt and held them up to Fenrir's throat.

"Now," he said, "Surrender, or…What the?"

Alura's raven, which had been circling above the village for the duration of the battle, dove towards Fenrir's location, as though sensing he was in danger. The bird began to aggressively peck at Geweldich's face, distracting the knight. Smirking, Fenrir collected his ringblade.

"Goddamned bird!" screamed Geweldich.

With his gaze obstructed, Geweldich was unable to detect Fenrir's strike. As the ringblade lodged itself in his ribcage, Geweldich cried out in agony. Fenrir then pulled out the blade and slammed it down on Geweldich's right shoulder, creating another gash and sending the knight to his knees.

Tossing aside his weapon, the Dane placed both of his hands on Geweldich's back and slammed his knee into his gut twice. He then lifted Geweldich by his back and spun him around twice before letting go, sending the knight flying through the door of a nearby burning house. With Geweldich seemingly dead, Fenrir grunted and resumed heading for Camelot, his leg injury hardly slowing him down in the slightest.

The race was on and Fenrir would stop at nothing to claim the prize.