Chapter 14

W hen the mysterious woman who commissioned the enchanted blade left his forge, Roderick consulted a map. He quickly made the calculations that it would take him nearly four days to ride from Bridgefort to the queen's castle in the far north of the Mystic Vale. The quickest way was to go through the Wyldwood Forest, something he was not too keen to do. There were stories the forest was enchanted or haunted or both.

Thinking of that, he snickered. Here he was worried about an enchanted forest, when he would have an enchanted blade at his side. He needn't worry about the forest.

If he was going to personally hand deliver the queen's dagger, he needed to start right away. He closed his forge, shuttering the front of it. He took his horse and rode to the edge of town, where there was a copse of trees. It was here he discovered the willow tree with the lustrous, rainbowlike bark. He had never seen anything like it before.

He dismounted outside the thicket, patting the horse's neck. The willow tree stood tall in the center, the top of it just visible over the other trees. He ducked and stepped under the willow's elongated branches with their pale green leaves and paused there. The other trees blocked out the afternoon light to the willow tree, but even so, the iridescence of the bark was visible.

He placed his palm on the smooth trunk of the tree and closed his eyes.

"Mystical forces that dwell," he said, "grant me your favor for the forging of this spell."

Through his connection with the tree, he sensed it come alive.

"Allow me to create this enchanted blade," he continued, "from the tree where dreams and rainbows cascade."

The tree's branches shuddered, rippling around him.

I grant you the favor to forge this blade, through whispered secrets here in the shade .

The tree said this in his mind, granting him the permission to once more the use its bark to forge the blade.

Tell me, dear one, it said in its mellifluous, soft voice. Who will wield this blade?

Whenever he decided to forge an enchanted blade, he received consent from the tree. It wanted to know who would be the one to wield the blade.

"I'm to take it to the queen of the Mystic Vale," he replied.

Silence descended. He didn't know much about the tree. He had stumbled upon the copse of trees by accident. The foliage around the willow formed a circle and stood like tall sentries, hiding it from any passing visitor who would only give it but a glance. But Roderick, with his connection to the elements, sensed there was something different about these particular trees. He'd stepped through them and found the willow, its long branches swaying slightly in the breeze.

When he connected with the willow, he had sensed the presence of something ancient and magical deep within it. It was willing to share its magical properties. Why it chose him, he wasn't sure. He used bits of the bark when he forged the steel, as well as using his own bit of magic to infuse within it. He didn't really understand how it worked, only that it did.

He'd made three blades. One for himself, one for the king, and one for an elven noble passing through town. He said it was a gift for his son and he wanted it to give him strength, courage, and confidence. Roderick hadn't heard from the elven noble since then, but he hoped the blade had done just that for his son.

Now, the willow's branches swished.

The Queen of the Mystic Vale is not the rightful ruler, it said.

"How do you know this?" he asked.

There is unrest throughout nature, especially in the Wyldwood Forest. Unrest I do not understand.

Roderick remained where he was, his hand against the trunk as he considered the tree's words.

"Should I not enchant the blade?"

Another pause, then, You should, but chose your recipient wisely, dear one, for all is not what it seems.

Cryptic words from the ancient willow. His brows drew together in question.

"What does that mean?"

You will have your answer when the time comes. Now, go forth and forge your blade.

"Thank you, ancient one," he said.

He took the dagger, which he'd strapped to his side, and scraped a bit of the bark from the trunk, placing the shards in a small wood container to keep it safe. He bid farewell to the willow tree and returned to his forge where he began to work.

Roderick spent long hours in his forge working on the blade. He mixed the bark shavings within the steel when he placed it in the fire, heating it up and then placing it on the anvil to hammer it into the shape of the long, straight blade of the dagger. Since the queen's messenger didn't specify what type of dagger, he decided to make it into one best used for thrusting and stabbing.

When he finished the blade, it shimmered with the rainbowlike steel mimicking that of the bark from the willow tree. When the light caught it, it had a sort of iridescent glow. He finished the handle in a barrel shape, making it rounded and perfect for the palm. Now that the blade was complete, it was time to pack his saddle bags for the long journey north.