Chapter Text
“It’s your choice Cain. Either use your Horadric arts to repair the sword, or your dear Leah dies a horrible death!” Maghda ordered imperiously as she viewed Deckard Cain’s distressed and bent body forcibly kneeling to her.
Cain grimaced as he looked up at Maghda. “All this pain…this destruction…What is this sword to you?”
Maghda glanced at the three broken pieces of sword arranged in front of Cain. “To me, nothing. To my master – Belial – everything!” she declared. Tired of his insolence, she lashed out at him, her poisonous moths enveloping Cain as he yelped.
“Uncle!” screamed Leah as three of Maghda’s cultists continued to funnel their energies directly into her, preventing her from running to Cain’s side. Rage overwhelmed her, blinded her. She sucked in a deep breath and then screamed as a wave of pure energy flowed through her, instantly killing the five cultists in the room. She grabbed the side of her head as the force of the blast caused Maghda to turn towards her.
“Your rage is overwhelming, girl,” Maghda coldly noted. “You win this round. But if the sword cannot be mine…” Maghda turned to another man bent besides her, opening a black portal beneath his feet. “…I’ll claim the one it’s bound to! In the end, the blade shall be mine!” Cain continued to gasp in pain as the unnamed man’s desperate yells filled the room.” She and the man disappeared.
“Uncle!” gasped Leah. She ran to him, crouching by his side, tentatively reaching out but afraid to touch and cause more pain. “You can’t die…” she whimpered.
Cain focused his remaining energy on the three pieces of sword now faintly glowing, floating in front of him. “Nothing can stop that now. But there is one last thing I must do…The sword must be made whole…” He reached out in front of him weakly extending his hand. The three blade pieces instantly fused, a beautiful and deadly whole sword now laying in front of him. “Just as I suspected. The sword is of the High Heavens! The Stranger is an angel! Heed the journal..The truth…lies within.” Cain weakly gasped, as the Horadic energy and remaining life left his body as he collapsed.
Leah said his name in horror and slumped down, her shoulders shaking as violent sobs shook her frame. El’druin now lay formed near her, the blue gem shining brightly at the center of a sunburst pattern etched into the hilt.
--
You closed your eyes inhaling the delightful scent of the almost empty café au lait nestled in your hands. After taking a sip, you opened your eyes and looked around, checking to see if anyone was trying to get your attention in the small Starbucks café. You checked your mobile and sighed. 10 minutes remained in your weekly office hours. As an Adjunct of History at the local community college, you did not have your own office due to lack of space. Instead of using the common room offered to all faculty, you decided to offer hours in the nearby Starbucks so that you could at least satisfy your caffeine fix. Your favorite barista, Hazel, caught your eye as she dumped a bag of whole coffee beans to ground for another round of fresh coffee. You eagerly stood up and stretched happy for the distraction. While you should probably review your Revolutionary War presentation notes before class, you had given this lecture quite a few times and thought the extra caffeine boost couldn’t hurt.
“Any plans for the weekend?” you asked Hazel as you approached the bar.
“Well, I’m going away for the weekend with George to meet his family,” she responded shyly. “George’s sister is visiting his parents, and George thought it would be a good time to meet everyone.”
You clapped your hands excitedly, “How wonderful! You two are too cute.” The front door opened, and you decided to retreat to your table, flashing your mobile into the scanner and grabbing the fresh cup of coffee off the counter as you started walking away.
You couldn’t deny you were a smidge jealous that you did not have someone smitten with you, but it was hard to have an active social life when you were balancing multiple part time jobs to pay rent, purchase food, and have enough left over for treats and rewards for working so hard in the first place. You told yourself you could relax once you finished teaching winter courses, but you knew that would never happen. Not if you wanted to impress the Dean and earn a full-time faulty position.
You checked your mobile and dropped it into your checkered bag along with your laptop and wireless mouse, pulling on your favorite black fleece jacket. You hoisted the bag on your shoulder smiled at Hazel, offering a tiny wave as you started moving towards the entrance. Checking to make sure you did not leave anything behind, you pushed open the door and briefly closed your eyes as the cold wind hit your face. You grimaced taking a step and then –
You paused. What was that awful smell? You opened your eyes to glance around and jumped backwards as several chickens brushed against your legs. You gasped as you watched people on horseback trot through the streets and then had another realization – the streets, the people, the town, everything was different. You quickly turned around to run back into the Starbucks when you realized there was no Starbucks – only something that looked suspiciously like a stereotypical historical tavern. You groaned. Clearly you either fell asleep at your small table or you finally lost your mind due to stress. God, you hoped not. You liked your mind. So, still sleeping? Yup, that must be it, you reasoned with yourself. Hazel will gently wake you any moment now and you and her will share a laugh at the preposterous idea of chickens running down the street.
You were frankly impressed by the level of detail in this dream as all your senses seemed to be engaged. The sunlight felt warm on your cheeks and it almost seemed like you were sweating in your fleece. The awful stench of butchered animals wafted from a journeyman’s cart near you and people seemed to have started noticing you as well. You clutched your bag tightly as a rising surge of panic started giving way in your chest. Why am I still dreaming this?
“Excuse me, miss” came a voice behind you as you realized you were blocking the entrance to this “tavern”. As you moved over, you watched a man in his thirties walk past you noticing he seemed to be carrying various shiny objects.
“Umm, excuse me, sir, but what is going on? I..uhh, well…” you anxiously stuttered trying to piece together a logical sentence as the man stopped and gave you a confused look.
“I mean,” you bit your bottom lip, “What year is it? And where am I?”
“It is 1285 and you are standing in Westmarch. How do you not-”
Unfortunately, you never heard the rest of the sentence as the rising panic finally overwhelmed you and you blacked out.