Mayer had told Rethi and I to walk out towards the open plains where I usually trained to wait and so we did.

The young man beside me was seething with indignation, furious that he’d be left out of something that was integral to him. I wasn’t anywhere near as worked up, maybe because it didn’t concern me as much, but I could see when the boy was coming from. It’s entirely possible that I simply expected this sort of stuff.

Mayer, at his core, was a man of mystery to us. His history was largely opaque to me, and even the parts that I did know about were convoluted and highly specific at best. I knew about his involvement with Ryan, the Champion from the last war, and knew enough that he was a soldier of some note during the war itself and, obviously, came to Virsdis from Orisis for unknown reasons.

For him to have a powerful blade was almost a no-brainer and being told that he was going to pass it on to Rethi was pretty par for the course. In a way, I was more Mayer’s equal than an apprentice, Rethi was the one to truly fit that role.

I learnt most of what I know myself, though Mayer did spark most of what I did learn. Rethi had grown close to the older man, treating him almost like a grandfatherly figure. Mayer taught the boy everything he knew of combat, mostly against me as a practice dummy. The sword style Rethi was taught was ‘standard, military grade stuff’, in Mayer’s own words, though it was easy enough to see that was an understatement.

Mayer had refined that sword style through Gods know how many battles and experiences. To say that it was a standard sword style was almost an out and out lie. Though Mayer was humble to a fault, generally, and hadn’t exactly been jumping at the chance to give his own personalized sword style an actual name. Though his student has a different idea about that.

The poor boy seemed blindsided by this, and I had the instinct to reach out and comfort his confusion and frustration, but I thought that it might be best to just let him find his way through it, along with learning more about Mayer’s plan for him.

In the distance I saw Mayer slowly walking towards us, in his hands an object wrapped in rough cloth, like you’d find made into a potato sack. Rethi and I waited patiently for the man to finally stop in front of us, silent and sporting a dour expression.

“Rethi, Maximilian…” The older man began, “there is much that I have not told you of my past. Some of that past I will talk about here.” I nodded, unperturbed. Rethi’s jaw and fists clenched, but he had the sense to wait for the man to continue.

Mayer started to unwrap the cloth from about the sword. It was a slow, methodical process, and it was only due to my natural empathic abilities that I was able to see the man’s feelings.

It was… confusing. This blade was something that he never wanted to see again. It instilled in him equal parts of hope and strength, will and fear. A relic of his own past that terrified even him.

The cloth wrapping slowly unfurled from the blade, revealing an odd, but entirely mundane looking blade. It was maybe a little bigger than the standard sword that Mayer had trained Rethi in, though it was a lot wider than normal. The usually thin blade made for manoeuvrability and lightness was replaced with a wide and thick double-edged blade.

There was seemingly no grip, leaving only a raw tang to grab. No pommel or even a handguard, though the wideness of the blade served similarly anyways. The colouring was odd, even in the light of the sun slowly setting. It was a bronze colour, but looking like it was severely burnt, dark scaling covering the blade. Honestly, the blade looked half finished.

Looking towards Rethi, I could see the confusion and disappointment on his face. He felt like he was being cheated, for sure. Maybe even being tricked, not that Mayer made a habit of that. Though Mayer didn’t let the silence linger too long.

“This blade is named Hindle. It is the Divine sword of Light and was my companion through much of the Champion War, as well as for many years after that.” Mayer grabbed the metal tang of the blade, and in that moment we Rethi and I both saw the blade in truth.

The blade roared to life, the metal shining brightly, though not gaudily. It looked no different in form, but it now shone with the light of the evening sun, warm and confident even as it slowly hid behind Orisis. The metal that looked so tarnished before glowed with a radiance I didn’t know was possible, as if it were a window to the sun itself.

“This blade was created untold millennia ago, gifted by the First One of the Sun to who he considered his mortal son. A warrior of untold might and unparalleled greatness. However, all must die, and so the blade fell into the hands of a Keeper—and thus the Court of Mysteries. Hidden from the world.” Even as Mayer spoke, I could see the man change. The smile lines that coursed through the old man’s skin like dried-up river beds slowly crept away, leaving the man who looked in his sixties fall in age to ten years younger. I could feel the bewilderment from Rethi, his eyes wider than dinner plates, staring at the man he had known to be impressive all this time, but realising just how impressive was still a shock.

That was the thing. Mayer radiated power like nothing I’ve ever seen. The only other comparable people are Armament and Gallar, a First One himself. Mayer’s presence was overwhelming, standing in the field and radiating like a miniature sun, an ironclad monolith of security and a symbol of hope.

Suddenly I could understand why the Hearth Court’s first pick was Mayer.

“However,’ Mayer said, his voice just as radiant as his presence, “I can no longer use Hindle.” The light sputtered and died, the radiance that had so quickly become normal disappeared, leaving me feeling cold in spite of being resistant to the climate in general.

“W–” Rethi started, confused, “Why?” Mayer grinned sadly.

“It’s nothing special, Rethi. It’s not that I am too old, or too weak to use Hindle, but that I don’t have the will for it anymore.”

“The will?” I asked, gently probing the man. Mayer nodded, a dark cloud of emotion shadowing his thoughts.

“I was a strong young man, prideful and righteous. I’m proud of who I was, even now.” He looked out to the distance pensively. “I was like that for many, many years. Decades upon decades. And when the Champion War began in earnest, Armament appeared before me and granted me Hindle.”

“Wait, how old are you exactly?” I asked, eyebrows scrunching up. Mayer’s grin broke through the dark cloud of his emotions.

“Old.” He replied unhelpfully, “I was close to dead when the first Champions arrived, life being extended because of my ability to shift, but I was night on close to one-hundred and thirty. After Ryan came and Hindle was granted to me, well…” He gestured to himself. The de-aging from earlier had mostly diminished, but there had been a noticeable permanent effect. Hindle had de-aged him from an age where his deathbed was just around the corner to a middle-aged man.

“You’re saying that sword makes you immortal?” Rethi gaped, but Mayer laughed.

“Not immortal, child, but pretty close to it. It’s nothing like Champion healing, or whatever Max has now, you’ll still die from having your head lopped off, but other than that you can’t die from old age or sickness and become highly resistant to ether of all sorts.” Mayer shrugged casually. The effects of the sword were great, but nothing of interest to me. Though that put my brain onto something else. After doing some quick mental math, I realised that Mayer was a whopping one-hundred and thirty years old before he received Hindle, roughly, and that was around when he met Ryan. It’s been seventy odd years since then, according to the man himself.

“You’re two-hundred years old, Mayer.” Mayer just snorted.

“No need to make me feel any older, Max.” Rethi gaped at his teacher’s age.

“I’m not even close to the oldest person you’ve met. The both of you.” Mayer accused jokingly, as if his pride was being assaulted.

“That Keeper? Was he the same Keeper that took the sword from the original wielder of Hindle?” Rethi asked, dumbfounded. Mayer shook his head.

“No. The Keepers are ancient but are still mortal. I do not know much about Armament, but from the way the depictions of the Keepers change over time, Armament has been a Keeper for quite a few thousand years.” Rethi still seemed mind boggled by that, and honestly, I couldn’t help but to be either. I had expected the age with Gallar being probably millions of years old, but Mayer? He was almost ten times my age. I may as well be a two-year-old in his eyes.

“Anyway. It has come the time to return the blade to Armament. It was something I always knew was coming, but for it to happen in conjunction with your appearance on Virsdis is simply bad luck. However, Armament seems to be allowing me to let the sword go to the next generation. And I have chosen the next wielder of Hindle to be you, Rethi.” Rethi knew all this but was still dumbfounded by Mayer’s declaration.

The pure power that Mayer had shown, just holding the blade totally recontextualized Mayer passing it onto Rethi. In essence, the man was offering a young boy true power and agency. As for me? I felt blessed in a totally different way than I already was. In the past few hours, I had felt so many unique emotions from other people. Awe, fear, anger, sadness, elation, happiness…

“Are you seriously crying, Max?” Mayer said, his face morphing into a wry amusement, Rethi spinning around and looked at me, shocked. I chuckled as I wiped the tears from my face with my sleeves.

“What’s with those faces, guys. Can’t a man cry?” Rethi just looked concerned.

“W– why are you crying?” he asked anxiously. The boy hadn’t ever seen me cry, and I could feel his emotions flare strongly. I was a strange and alien creature to Rethi. A literal Demigod. I can’t fault him for thinking that I’d be above emotions.

But I wasn’t.

I walked forwards towards Mayer arms outstretched. He rolled his eyes at me, but he put the Divine Weapon aside and returned the gesture. I hugged the comparatively small, and much older man strongly.

I could feel the emotion well in him, and I started to get a real idea of what passing on this blade meant to him.

In some ways it was an absolution. To give the blade to someone else, for some else to take the burden of its power and the weight of the actions taken with the blade. But in other ways it was an act of mourning. This blade, however estranged he had become from it, had been his partner in truth, the last symbol of himself left after the war.

He was passing everything that he was worth down to Rethi, and even then he knew that he didn’t have the time. We were on a schedule that finished with the worlds dying. He didn’t even have the luxury of training the young boy for years to come, to allow him to perfect the blade and surpass him in every way.

With that I pulled back from the man, nodded to him solemnly, and left, leaving them to speak properly.

---

Maximilian had left a few hours ago and since then Mayer and Rethi had been sitting across from each other, the divine blade he was set to inherit, Hindle, laying between them.

Rethi, the beggar boy. He was going to wield a divine blade, of all things.

Every word out of Mayer’s mouth was unable to quell that excitement. The massive number of options that opened due to that ragged looking sword was mind fuddling.

“Rethi.” Mayer said gently. “You need to understand that inheriting this blade… it isn’t fun, or good. It feels so at first. The power at your fingertips is astounding, the ability to do anything.” Mayer recounts wistfully.

“But it doesn’t stay that way forever. Soon it becomes chains that bind you. In every moment you wonder how you could be using that power better, more efficiently. How could you save more lives, defeat more foes. The obsession will destroy you, if you are not careful.”

Rethi took it in. He understood, he really did. He understood the risks of power. In fact, Max had talked about it at great length. He had taken in what the man was trying to teach him, but always thought that it was a worry for the actually powerful, not children with a sword, like him.

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to the tall form of Max, strongly hugging the old man in front of him, tears leaking from his eyes. Did Max know that he was going to get this sword? That he was going to find this power somehow?

“I understand, Master Mayer.” Rethi said to the older man softly, “But what choice do I have? For months I’ve wondered what use I’d be to Master Max, out there on the battlefield he’d find himself on. I have no doubt that Master Max would find something for me to do, maybe even something great. But now Alena is a life shifter…” He stopped, the silence laying heavy on my shoulders until the wielder of Hindle looked up at Rethi with a small smile and spoke.

“That’s good. To feel useful, to contribute, to be accepted amongst your peers is a valuable aspiration, though as all-consuming it may be. Know that Maximilian will need you just as much as you need him. He will always be more powerful than you, in one way or another, but you will one day stand amongst the most powerful people alive, as I once did. And your commitment to use that power for your friends…”

“That’s what you need to hold on to, potentially at the cost of everything.”