"
"Sire, I am no swordsmith."
The warrior held the blade in hand, extended the handle toward
Demo. "Take it. Return it to Zeus. Tell him one whose name
remains forever unspoken would have the broken sword of Cadmus.
Let Vulcan fashion it and put thereon an edge that will not
fail. 'Til you return, Clothos shall spin no more, nor Lachesis
measure, nor Atropos wield her shears. And none shall pass
through these portals to tomorrow."
The warrior held the blade high, brought it down flat against
his knee, and the metal snapped. He handed the broken weapon to
Demo. "The gate is there."
He pointed to the darker recesses of the cave. "Quickly, now,
to Olympus. I wait impatiently."
Zeus listened in quiet amazement, the broken sword in his hand.
In anger he tossed it down and it faded into oblivion. "You
shall meet with it by the tarn, in good time. It is not given to
me to know of this shadow land. Of its existence only am I
informed. The Ancient Ones - they knew! Strangely, they told me
nothing! Must even the Gods pass through those portals? I know
not. Here, take it. The sword of Cadmus. It, too, was broken.
Well, Vulcan has applied his skills. This edge shall never dull."
The warrior examined the sword with critical eye. "The
craftsmanship of Vulcan leaves little to be desired. I see the
break in the blade. It matters not. There is no weakness now.
You have done well."
His visage reflected an expression that might be construed as a
smile.
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