As blood poured out of the shadow mantis body and onto the ground the sun rose to vanquish this horrible night. Alston stood there absolute still gripping the enchanted sword tight.  

Alston had small tremors course through his hands in an intermittent pattern like response.  The tremors soon faded away and his hands no longer shook. Courage had infected his blood and killed away the doubt and fear he had.  The blade gleamed crimson, blue and white. This came as a surprise to the young wizard. Such evocations cast upon weapons only last a few uses.  This blade however seems to retain the power.  " Alston, may I see the blade? " The young wizard ask the new warrior if he could observe his blade while all together ease his mind that everything is okay.  Alston then looked at the enchanted blade he carried about with him on their travels.  It had always been just a sword. Normal and nothing special. Just a weapon to carry about on travels for the little inexperienced protection he could provide with it. Only now it was an instrument of power.  An emblem of one's courage gained. Not only did this sword **** the shadow mantis but also carved out a new warrior inside of one whom wasn't. The young wizard understood this in a moment realizing why the sword has not lost its enchantment. For Alstom and the sword have ascended together. The young wizard then remembered what he had told Alston before the shadow mantis arrived. " Trust in yourself and then trust in the blade." The young wizard may have inadvertently invoked the spirit of this man, this father, and also invoked the sword and somehow bonded them together spiritually. Many invocations used by the lineage of wizardry are mostly discovered by accident.  This happens to be another moment.  Only the young wizard did not understand how it happened. It was quite difficult to remember every detail which is important by all measure.  The position of his staff, his stance, the tone of one's voice, and the emotion given.  So much was happening at the time there was no time to remember it all.  Perhaps just an early morning breakfast and the start of a journey together could render some lost memories.

Alston gave the enchanted blade to the young wizard with a smile as he walked toward his sleeping boys to wake them and start breakfast.  The young wizard held the enchanted blade and turned to Alston. " Your new blade needs a name."

Demons fight in the wilderness wide
They attack you from behind
And I loved to fool myself
About sparring with them

Truth lies with the moss
Covering the sword that never saw a fight
After I fled to hide behind the field
Where far further I yield

There sits rocks that plays the part of walls
protecting and sheltering me
My back down on a callous mattress
My eyes up on a clouded night

This is where I lie

The Lord God is our sword and shield
As we walk upon this battlefield.
We are called to stand up and fight
For justice, for truth, for all that is right.
Here upon this solemn hill, we stand
We will overcome by God's might right hand.
The Lord is my fortress and my strong tower
In His wake, mercy and grace shall flower.
Take up the Rosary, lift high the Holy Cross
All that I am or have, I count it as loss
For, without you, I am nothing.
Your very breath is my life
Your death paid the price
Without your love, I am empty and hollow
Without your voice, I cannot follow
Without your light, I fade away
Lord, I need you, everyday!

Upon the gate
Words inscribed
"TRESPASSERS BEWARE"

Behind me mist recedes
Steep cliff revealed
At the brink I tense

My footsteps echo as
The gate looms larger
Damp black rocks under

Hits me the tortured's howls
As I step across the threshold
Legs steady, eyes set

Dense fog obscuring
Flame and body
The torch flickers

A winding path I follow
Patient and unwavering
With sword unsheathed

Cold wind announces my destination
Before me the chasm yawns
From my hands the flickering torch
Fell boucing down jagged rocks

I grasp the hilt of my sword
Light refracting off the blade
I hold it outward through the fog
Its light dimming by the minute
And await the terrors to come

Rumbling from the distance
The gate crashes down
Darkness falls upon this realm
The chilly wind picking up
All sounds coming to a halt
I close my eyes

Steps unsteady as I pick my way
Not knowing how many
Gasping I pull my feet back
As it touched empty space
Then tentatively I inch
Forward with a heavy breath
Until I stop at the very brink

For a minute staying still yet
With a lurch I slip into the chasm
Cloak billowing above me I
Flail around in a frenzy
I feel the cool hilt still and
Point the sword downwards
Taking a deep breath and
Bracing for the impact

Blessings and Curses, two Edges of the same Sword
A Swordsman is one Ordained, knowing When and How
To Unsheathe, to Cut, to Pierce, to ****, only for Good
But if used only for his Good or sheathed rather than ****
He then is a Renegade, condemned by the same Sword

He pulls a sword from a rock
And the crowd cheered
And he was worthy
And he will bring war

To those who are unworthy
.
And he will graze their fields
.
And he will burn their temples
.
He will reveal his true form, eating all the children of those who are not worthy
.

Dear fierce,
and little warrior.
The battle you are fighting
will not be won overnight
and your sword is so heavy.
You deserve to put it down;
you deserve to rest.

she was a princess
who desired for a sword and horse
not a prince
who could fight her battles
when she got the
crown on her head
and same power

—an echo sword cuts through the sounds,
time is made of glass. Fragile as the brokenness
in pass.

—a dagger tilt into the chest. The very part,
where all sores dawn. Rising until you see
the pain appearing as heavy breathe.

—sheath; putting away sharp ends of past hurt.
Piercing deeply as longing to be free. The battle
is plenty, as the many who feel so alone.
You aren't the first!

In these blade works, working hard to survive,
on the killing of time. To bat an eye; swinging on
the looks of acting out of pride.

—it cuts anyone deeply, fighting to survive,
fighting in the many struggles of this LIFE.

Is it to hold a knife in defence, or attack,
the question of every human being.