In a liminal space stood a man clad in a black cloak. He waited upon paved stone etched with intricate patterns, surrounded by walls so dark they seemed to swallow all light. Their surfaces rippled gently, like waves upon a still lake.
“Thought you might be here, Mister Lude.”
From one of the walls emerged the upper torso of a man with a bandaged face. He carried a black slab which, even within the bizarre room, stood out for its appearance.
“Zadu,” Lude replied, breaking his silence. “I was not expecting you so early.”
“I have your order with me, exactly as you asked.”
Smiling, the bandaged man stepped fully through the wall and tossed the black object forward. No sooner did it strike the floor than the liminal space violently distorted, and a series of loud crashes echoed through the unnatural darkness.
The black-cloaked man, his face still hidden, simply watched as the intricately carved stone shattered and split, fractures running up to his feet.
“Indeed, this is it,” he said. “Well done.”
Zadu cocked his head. “Is it really that valuable? By my reckoning, the guy who wielded it was the real threat.”
Lude didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his right hand, and the black club lifted from its shattered cavity in the floor, hovering in midair as if defying gravity. Once it reached chest height, it began to slowly revolve, and he studied it in silence.
“What is it, anyway?” Zadu eventually asked. “Nothing normal is that durable. And there’s no way it should be as heavy as it is.”
“The answer to your question is something that even we elves, with all our deep wisdom, have yet to fully comprehend. For a mere human such as yourself, it would be a futile endeavor.”
“Yeah? And here I thought knowing everything was your people’s thing.”
“This, we believe, is the final legacy of an ancient civilization—the architects of the dungeons scattered across the world. It is the culmination of all their technology and engineering. But all you need to know is that it is unique and irreplaceable.”
“That so? Sounds pretty valuable.”
“I know that tone. I would advise not doing anything you might regret. There is no point in ascribing a value to something when no one in existence truly understands its worth.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t thinking about stealing it from you. I mean, when it comes to strange old junk like that, I can’t think of anyone who’d pay more than you do. So long as I get what I’m owed, you won’t hear me complaining.” Zadu shrugged, his words taking on a teasing tone as he observed how engrossed Lude was in the mysterious object. “Still, it’s not like you to be such a chatterbox. You must’ve really wanted that thing. It’s crazy hard, sure, but what else is so great about it?”
“What staggering ignorance,” the black-cloaked man said at length. “This sword is not merely ‘hard.’ It is made of Ideal Matter, a material that should not even exist. It rejects all outside influence, one-sidedly enforcing itself on the material world.”
“You’re kidding. How come I’ve never heard of it, then? I dabble in alchemy, and a material that strong sounds like a bad joke.”
“Does it not go without saying? It is the pinnacle of long-lost technology. Modern science could strive for tens of thousands of years and still fail to produce even a single particle. Yet the progenitors accomplished that and more, first creating this ridiculous material, and then working it into the form of a weapon. Is it good? Is it evil? It is solely unique, beyond the reach of moral philosophizing. That it even exists in this world is a contradiction.”
With that, Lude returned to studying the floating blade.
“Even with it right here in front of me, I find its existence hard to believe,” he continued. “The people of the old world created it for a single purpose: to vanquish the gods themselves. Someone must take up that mantle again—someone who understands this weapon’s significance.”
Zadu laughed. “‘Vanquish the gods,’ huh? Guess you were right—that sounds like something only the elves have any business with.”
“I shall take my leave shortly, and this sword will come with me. This city is not long for this world. Along with the other nations in the vicinity, it will soon be naught but dust, lost to the desert sand. But before then, I have one more job for you.”
“Do you, now? You certainly are busy. Well, I’m always open to more work from you—if the price is right, that is.”
“Kill the previous owner of this sword. Money is no object.”
Zadu’s expression darkened slightly, and he scratched his cheek. “Well...guess I could do that, yeah. It’ll cost you more than you’re thinking, though. An extra three or four zeroes on the end, at least. Won’t be worth the trouble otherwise.”
“When I said money is no object, I meant it.”
“Ah, yeah. I forgot you elves have a not-so-little nest egg stashed away back home. Gotta admit, I wouldn’t mind visiting. Just to see the sights, mind you—the legendary home of the elves must really be something.”
“Do not hold your breath. Even if you attempted to visit, our home was constructed in such a way that outsiders would never be able to enter.”
“Just thinking aloud, is all. No guarantee I’d make it out alive anyway, right?”
“I must depart. Follow me once you are finished, and you shall receive your pay.”
“Payment on delivery again, huh? Can’t say I’m too pleased about that, but I’ll make an exception for you, Mister Lude. For a fee, of course.”
“That is acceptable.”
With the sword floating alongside him, the black-cloaked man approached one of the walls and placed his hand upon it, causing its dark surface to ripple. He stepped through and promptly disappeared from sight.
“Now, then...”
Zadu looked at the wall that Lude had passed through. As its dark, marshy surface rippled, it revealed a grand desert city shimmering under the harsh sun—the capital of his birth nation, which had once served as his base of operations.
“What to do?” he mused. “If everything’s getting turned to dust anyway, I could snatch up a magnate or ten and make some pocket money from their ransoms...”
He poked out his tongue, which bore a silver piercing, and slowly licked his lips as he stared out over the city. Then his arms dropped to his sides, as though he’d suddenly lost all interest.
“Nah. I’m not a kid anymore. These days, I’ve got a real job.”
Zadu laughed, seemingly unbothered by the disorienting ripple of the liminal space around him. He touched the image of the city he knew so well, then was swallowed by the black wall, just like the cloaked man before him.