anny bolted to the left at a dead sprint, eyeing the ever-growing cloud of sooty smoke. He was getting closer. Turning the corner, he found himself at the center of the island, the Pool of the Mageknight was in front of him; a sickening circle of fallen knights surrounding it. Above him, the black cloud drifted endlessly upward. Danny traced it to the source, one of the four high towers that surrounded the pool was now little more than a pile of rubble. An unexpected cry of pain drew his attention to the right where a strange group of individuals surrounded what looked like the last living Knight of the Light.

Syndil stood in front of the knight, Danny was sure of it. Although he couldn't see his face, he recognized the silver Bonded leveled at the Knight of the Light's throat, as well as the Elf's, long, black hair, unkempt and drifting in the breeze. Syndil sported an intricate suit of silver armor, inlaid with shining blue veins of an unknown material that seemed to glow despite the waning sunlight. Three dark figure stood behind the captive knight, Danny failed to recognize them. Their skin was pitch-black, as if covered in soot, their eyes sparkled like sapphires, but without pupils and devoid of emotion. They wore no obvious form of armor, only robes of dark fabric.

"Gran Shadows," Danny whispered. He realized he shouldn't have said anything when Syndil's ear twitched in response and the three Shadows twisted their attention in his direction. They had all heard him.

Paying him no heed, Syndil flicked his wrist, angling his Bonded in a quick horizontal swipe.

The knight, his once-shiny armor battered and soiled with dust and blood, gripped his throat and dropped to his knees.

"No!" Danny yelled, taking three steps forward, but stopping as one of the three Shadows began to advance.

"No," ordered Syndil, stopping the Shadow mid-step, his back still turned. With a second flick of the wrist, he flung the small accumulation of crimson from the blade of his Bonded, leaving the brand unstained and shining. Sheathing his sword, he spun on his heel and greeted Danny with a sweeping smile. "Good morning, Squire Firoth," he said, as if they were meeting under normal circumstances.

"How could you!" Danny freed the sword at his side with a resounding ring of metal.

Sensing the threat in Danny's tone of voice, as well as his actions, the nearest Shadow advanced, only to be stopped by Syndil's outstretched hand. The Shadow produced a subtle hiss, apparently it had never been ordered in such a manner.

"You'd have done well to stay clear, Mageknight. My ability to control these Grans is somewhat limited, I must say that they seek your destruction most of all." With a mere look, Syndil forced the closest Shadow to retreat.

In that split-second, Danny noticed a white-hilted sword in Syndil's opposite hand, the most interesting feature was a silver band at the tip of the handle with an intricately carved eagle, wings outstretched and beak down as if to begin a dive. Memories of his father flooded his mind; he'd seen that very ring on the middle finger of his father's right hand as it passed by his face time and again.

"Father," he whispered.

"What was that?" Syndil asked, returning his attention to Danny. The Gran Shadow appeared appeased, for the moment, it returned to the proximity of the other two.

"Return the Bonded you stole," commanded Danny. His voice was loud, but controlled.

"I am afraid this Bonded is most crucial to my plans, Mageknight," said Syndil, holding the sword up, revealing a matching white wooden sheath.

"You will return my father's sword."

"...Your father's sword? Now, how could you have known that?" Syndil asked evenly, suggesting a genuine interest in the answer.

"Sir Bartlett told me."

"That old Dwarf is alive, is he? Most interesting," Syndil said with a shrug. He paused for a moment of thought. "I give you my word that once I am finished with this Bonded, I shall return it to you personally. After all, it was with your help that I was able to obtain it in the first place."

"I helped you in no such way," argued Danny.

"Ah, but you did, Squire Firoth. Without the description of your father's ring, I would have never known which Bonded to seek." For emphasis, Syndil angled the stolen Bonded before him, hilt-first and displayed the most obvious aspect that marked the sword as Danny's father's, the emblem of the eagle.

Danny's eyes lingered upon the eagle-crested ring that detailed the tip of the pommel. His heart sank. "You were never interested in me as the Mageknight. It was my father's Bonded that you desired all along," said Danny in a whisper, more to himself than the Elf.

"Partially, Squire Firoth, but the fact that you seem to carry the abilities of the Mageknight was an added bonus. In any case, as I said, I will gladly return the blade to you once I have finished with it. You have my word."

"Your word means nothing to me now," spat Danny, gripping the hilt of his sword with both hands, taking an offensive stance.

"And nor should it, Danny. However, you have it nonetheless." Syndil looked as if he was about to say more, a loud thunderclap caused him the slightest hesitation. A funnel of black clouds broke free of the swirling storm that encompassed the island and descended like a forming tornado.

Even Danny was surprised as the vortex grew larger in shape and faster in speed, touching down a short distance beyond the trinity of Gran Shadows.

"I am afraid I have run out of time, Squire; I must bid you adieu." With that, Syndil gave Danny his back and turned toward the whirling cyclone.

Rage stirred within Danny as he watched the Elf turn on him. "No!" he yelled, striking his right foot forward. He fought against the current of the windstorm and charged. His anger focused his mind as he entered into the Ghostsight. His sword whistled through the turbulent air, angled downward, aimed for the broad side of Syndil's back.

Quicker than Danny could predict, even with the Ghostsight, the Elf sidestepped to the left and spun. However, even though he was unable to foresee the movement, Danny could foretell where Syndil would end up. Fueled by an unrestrained fury, he followed through with his attack, connecting with open air and allowing the sword to pass harmlessly through the empty space that Syndil had only recently occupied. Permitting the pull of the sword to carry him full circle, he spun on his heel and pointed the sword downward so that it scraped against the stone of the street. Danny forced his attack, twisting the hilt into an upward line that scraped across Syndil's armor from hip to shoulder.

The Elf's surprised expression was priceless as Danny's sword carved a path of white sparks, denting Syndil's armor at the hip and breastplate.

Intent on finishing the duel, Danny reversed the momentum and brought the blade back down over the left side of Syndil's brow. However, his attack stopped inches from the Elf's face, blocked by the sheathed blade of the Bonded that had once been his father. Seeing the ghostly image of the Elf begin to move against him, Danny disengaged and retreated. Moving just in time, he avoided a sideways cut from Syndil's Bonded as the Elf unsheathed his sword and leveled a slashing attack, all in one smooth motion.

Syndil traced a silver arc through the space that Danny had just occupied, missing the swell of his chest by mere inches.

Danny angled his sword before him, maneuvering into a defensive stance, he was sure that Syndil would press the attack. Yet, the Elf stood perfectly still, investigating the thin line that indented his armor from the meat of his left hip to the curve of his right shoulder. However, the Gran Shadow standing behind him refused to wait; it took the initiative and stepped forward.

"No," Syndil ordered, turning on the dark creature.

This time, the Gran refused his request. It raised its alien hand, three pointed-fingers and a thumb, instead of the usual five Human fingers. Extending its right arm outward, the Shadow spread its fingers wide and pointed its palm toward Danny.

His training with the Ghostsight had only prepared him for a duel with one opponent. Whatever the Shadow had in mind, Danny could not predict in time.

As if answering Danny's thoughts, the Shadow planted its left foot forward. A series of tiny, glowing orbs of blue began to form around its extended hand, starting at the points of the fingers. Growing in size and intensity, the radiant globes floated into the palm, melding into a much larger scintillating sphere.

Mesmerized by the display, Danny snapped out of it as the Shadow's fingers snapped straight and forced the palm-sized orb to burst forward in a beam of potent blue energy. The ray doubled, tripled and quadrupled in size until it dwarfed Danny with its diameter, leaving him no room to dodge it. Standing his ground, Danny steadied his footing, tightened his grip and angled his sword in a downward swipe, meeting the initial concussive burst of the beam. Pushed back by the sheer power of the attack, Danny could feel his feet sliding against the stone as he managed to split the shaft of energy in half, the intense heat of it incinerating the sleeves of his robes. His footing began to falter and his arms grew weak. He couldn't hold out.

However, just as he began to lose hope, a streak of silver, followed by a flash of white, caught his eye to the right. A figure wielding two swords appeared in front of him and severed the blue beam from top to bottom. Yet, even the last bit of force from the ray proved too much for Danny. Thrown backward, he tumbled across the stone street before coming to a stunning stop, his back thudding heavily against the Pool of the Mageknight. The concussion forced the grip on his sword to waver as it clanged against the stone beneath him.

Disoriented, Danny looked down, discovering that the blade had melted and was beyond repair. Looking up, he saw the outline of his savior, battling the wave of blue energy in his place. Although still dazed, Danny could make out some familiar features of the figure.

Danny notice that he carried a series of seven blades, five remaining in a unique fan-like scabbard strapped across his back, while wielding the other two in his hands. The most obvious characteristic was the pointed ears that marked him kindred of the Long-lived, an Elf.

"...Calador?" Danny questioned, no more than a whisper.

As if empowered by Danny's utterance, the Elf swooped both of his blades upward, forcing the angle of the crackling beam in the same direction. The sapphire ray traveled skyward, puncturing a hole in the swirling black clouds of the Eye. The shaft of azure light dissipated, allowing rays of sunlight to trickle through the dark clouds and linger for the briefest of moments before the raging storm swallowed them up once again.

The Gran Shadow advanced, but stopped in order to investigate Syndil's silver Bonded, which lingered just below its pointed chin, caressing its neck.

"No," said Syndil, his tone never wavering as his eyes locked on Calador. "Disobey me again and I will have your head."

The Shadow hesitated, its expression alien, unreadable. Then, taking a single step to the rear, it retreated. However, the Shadow's gaze remained fixed forward upon its prey.

"Are you alright, Squire?" Calador asked, his focus just as cautious. He didn't turn to face Danny.

Danny looked himself over, finding his robes tattered and burnt; the skin of his arms and face was raw and blistered and his body was bruised. Investigating his sword further, he noticed that it had halved in size, the blade had melted nearly to the hilt.

"My sword is useless," he said, retrieving the ruined blade, holding it before him in emphasis. Realizing that Calador couldn't see the damage, even if he was facing him, he tossed the now-worthless sword down next to him, the warped steel clanging pitifully upon the stone.

"Good," said Calador. "You shall not need it, you are not permitted to stay."

Danny was about to argue but he was cut off as Calador continued.

"You will run as quickly as your feet can carry you, run to the Castle of the Light where you will await further orders." Calador's voice was stern and rigid, leaving no room for argument.

"I am afraid he will not be permitted to leave," said Syndil, matter-of-factly, a smile curling up the side of his mouth. As the last syllable left the Elf's mouth, the three Gran Shadows disappeared in a disorienting display of speed, reappearing at the edge of three of the four roads that led out from the center, while Syndil casually moved to block the fourth. "We shall finish what we started so many years ago, my old friend."

"Friend!" spat Calador. "You are a traitor, a thief and a liar. I once honored you as a master of the sword and kindred of the race we share, a rival against whom I could measure my own skill. I even respected you after you took my eyes as well as my Bonded. However, what you have done this day is unforgivable and before this futility goes any further, you will tell me why."

"Why?" Syndil's smile simmered to a smirk. "Look around you, Calador. The Light grows weaker with every passing day. Our numbers dwindle with every drop of the moon and setting of the sun, while the Shadows extend their grip over this world. We are losing this war."

"You are a coward!" Calador yelled, his grip tightening around the hilts of his blades, causing his knuckles to whiten.

Syndil stepped forward, angling his Bonded downward in one smooth motion. "Call me what you will, Calador, but you must sense it as well. The Light has settled their hopes on the return of the Mageknight. Yet, there he sits, a mere shadow of the legend foretold in the literature. His power will not be enough to offset the influence of the Shadows."

Calador maneuvered into an offensive stance. "So, now you show your fair-weathered allegiance, backing the surest winner, betraying those that trusted you with their lives."

Syndil mirrored the movements of his opponent, leveling his Bonded before him while still holding the sheathed blade of the stolen Bonded in his opposite hand. "It was an easy enough choice. What is the alternative, to die fighting for the side you know will eventually lose, only to end up as some poor soul trapped in a sword for an eternity? I think not, that's not for me."

Calador scoffed. "So, instead, you choose to betray your own race as well as those you have sworn allegiance to, all the while manipulating a mere squire in the process?"

Syndil's smile widened as he sighed ever so softly. "'Tis inconsequential, my old friend, for I have made my choice. Now, you must make yours. I have not the time for any more discussion on this matter, and I fear you are impossibly far from changing my mind in any capacity. If you wish to finish this rivalry between us, now is the time and the place."

Calador gracefully twirled his blades in front of him, planting his right foot forward. "I am not your old friend, Syndil, but you must know that you are now my new enemy and I will stop you."

Syndil responded in kind, weaving his Bonded in a light-footed salute, the elegance of his movements just as smooth as the Elf opposite him. "I accept your challenge... my new enemy."

"For the Light," challenged Calador, using his forward foot to push off with as he began a headlong charge.

Syndil smiled and raised his Bonded above him. "Sever, Kryssagrim," he said, leveling a single downward slash in front of him. The blade of his Bonded pulsed with a silver flash, sending forth three individual pressure waves of white light that whistled as they sliced through the air and barreled down upon Calador.

Without missing a beat, Calador angled his swords around him in a speedy display. Parrying each attack in turn, he cut the waves in half, causing them to dissipate around him with a harmless soft hissing as he continued his charge. The surprised expression on Syndil's face was instantaneous as Calador leveled an attack of his own just below the chin line.

His sword found nothing but air. Syndil easily ducked the swipe. Pressing his assault, Calador followed up with a series of slashes and lunges. However, the speed of both Elves proved equal and Syndil met his opponent blow for blow, using the stolen Bonded as an offhand weapon.

Spinning away, Syndil retreated to a safe distance and settled into a defensive stance.

"Interesting," he said with a smile. "I see you remember Kryssagrim's first Awakening."

Calador twirled his blades around him, loosening the muscles of his arms. "How could I ever forget your old tricks."

Syndil's smile widened as he took the other Elf's comment as a compliment, rather than the insult it was intended to be. "Be that as it may . . . how is it that you are able to block my Bonded's Awakening without a Bonded of your own? You know as well as I that a Bonded's power can only be blocked by another Bonded, yet I specifically remember seeing yours shatter into at least seven pieces during our last duel."

"Exactly seven," said Calador, bringing both of his blades to bear and bringing them together. However, instead of the usual clang of metal meeting metal, something that one might expect to hear as two swords met, the blades produced a soft hissing, followed by a swirling wisp of sapphire smoke as they melded into one. The hilt of the newly-formed longsword changed and reformed, taking on a more intricate pattern, yet still appearing incomplete. The blade changed as well, elongating, gaining a soft blue glow.

Syndil's smile softened in the face of the display, from surprise or fear, Danny didn't know which.

"Most interesting," said Syndil.

Reaching behind him, Calador pulled another blade from the sheath on his back, the lowest on the left. Slightly smaller than the new sword in his opposite hand, the hilt of the third carried a similar pattern to the other, the engraved lines cut off as if it belonged to a larger whole.

"You had the seven pieces of your Bonded re-forged into seven individual swords," said Syndil, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. The Elf's smile returned to its former glory as he angled his Bonded to the left side of his body. "I am impressed, Calador, but it will not save you. Sever, Kryssagrim," he whispered. He leapt to the right and leveled his Bonded for three quick slashes, creating nine waves of silvery light that whistled through the air, aimed directly for Danny.

Danny attempted to roll out of the way; he closed his eyes, knowing that he would never make it in time. However, just when he expected to feel the first of the nine surges upon his back, he heard a loud series of pops and felt nothing more than harmless puffs of air flow around him. Opening his eyes and inching his head upward, to see what had happened, he saw Calador standing in front of him, both blades angled in a defensive position.

"Calador," Danny whispered, as he noticed a splash of crimson plummet to the right of the Elf's feet. He followed the trickle of red to a gaping wound that ran from Calador's right wrist to his upper bicep.

"Most impressive, Calador," said Syndil in a mocking tone. "Your skills have definitely improved, you managed to block nearly all of them. However, I knew that you would not allow the last to hit the squire and that you would shield him with your body. You always were so predictable."

Danny had never felt so helpless. Syndil was using him to distract Calador. The wound on the Elf's arm was his fault.

"...Calador!"

"Never mind me, Danny," interrupted Calador, bringing his two swords together, melding them into one. A wisp of dark energy formed around the newly-created blade as it grew slightly longer and became a dull black, seeming to draw in the light around it. The pattern on the black hilt shifted, causing the engraved grooves to twist and turn, yet still they appeared incomplete.

"Blind, Enigmir," said Calador, angling the sword before him.

Danny shifted his eyes to Syndil, yet he was too slow to see the surprise upon the Elf's face as a large sphere of utter darkness engulfed him.

Reaching behind him, Calador unsheathed a fourth blade from the scabbard on his back, stepped into his own globe of blackness and disappeared from sight.

The rounded edge of darkness stopped a few feet from where Danny crouched, appearing almost as a solid but he knew otherwise, Calador had stepped through it without the slightest resistance. Although he couldn't see beyond the black curtain, Danny heard the sounds of combat echo from within the blackness.

Feeling more helpless than ever, he unsheathed the dragon-hilted dagger he'd received from Tyramear. The blade felt good in his grip and brought him some much-needed confidence. However, after investigating the dagger, peering at the distant Gran Shadows and then looking from blade to Shadows once again, Danny returned the small brand from whence it had come, it was useless. He needed a real weapon. In that instant, a distant longing called to him from behind. Looking up, he met the solid stone eyes of a statue, one of the four sculpted Knights of the Light that watched over the Pool of the Mageknight.

The Bonded of the Mageknight.

Standing up, he leapt to the edge of the pool and peered down into the crisp, clear water. The familiar sight of the sapphire-hilted sword floated just beneath the surface. For a moment, Danny found himself lost in the swirl of the blade, its edges crafted to sleek perfections, the blue brand's soft inner light beckoning him into its depths. It felt as if the blade was calling to him.

"You can do this," he told himself as he inched his right hand toward the calm water. A series of ripples swelled out from the point of contact as he lowered his fingers into the water, the waves distorting the image of the sword. Seeing his chance, Danny spread his hand wide and reached for the hilt, only to feel the flow of water filter through his fingers, the Bonded of the Mageknight was now just to the left of his grip.

Yanking his hand from the pool, Danny cursed himself. The draw of the blade increased, yearning for his touch. He didn't quite understand what he was doing wrong. If he truly was the Mageknight, then only he could pull the sword from the water. Why can't I do it?

"Think," he whispered.

Behind him, somewhere within the globe of darkness, the sound of combat continued, the Gran Shadows stood in an unwavering vigil.

"I have to do something," Danny whispered with new-found confidence. "Calador needs my help. My father needs my help." Focusing his concentration, he entered into the trance that Syndil had taught him, controlling his breathing, clearing his mind. The Ghostsight settled over the Bonded within the pool, causing a silhouette to appear around the sword, which seemed to waver backward and forward as the ripples in the water began to settle. Taking a deep breath, he leveled his right hand over the water once again and reached down for the second time. The water stirred in response to his touch, causing the reflection of the blade below to waver and warp. Putting his hand farther into the tepid water, Danny gasped with surprise as the ghostly image of the blade dodged to the right of his fingers, while the real image remained in place, inches from his grasp.

Ignoring the impulse to keep moving toward the obvious reflection, Danny shifted his grip to the location of the Ghostsight's image, hoping the actual sword would appear there momentarily. Closing his hand around what appeared to be nothing but water, he felt the cool touch of something solid. Then, within the blink of an eye, the Bonded of the Mageknight appeared within his grasp, the ripples of the water lapping at his bicep.

In one smooth motion, Danny pulled the blade from the pool, freeing it from the depths as the water dripped down his arm. Holding the blade before him, he tested its weight and found it much lighter than expected. It almost felt as if it weighed nothing at all, it was light as a feather. Taking a couple of practice swings, the blade whistled as if it were cutting the air itself.

"I did it!" Danny said to no one in particular, and then...

Greetings, Danny Firoth, said an unfamiliar voice that seemed to echo from all around him.

Danny turned in every conceivable direction, but found no one. "Who's there?" he asked.

You may call me Magear, said the deep-toned voice.