Wielder's Rising Read Online Free PDF Page A

neck.
    “No!!!”
    Traven was jerked from his thoughts as Studell let out a scream.  At first he didn’t know what had upset the philosopher so much.  Both Studell and the captain were staring over the side of the ship.
    “What have you done, you big oaf?” Studell screamed as he shook his finger at the large captain.
    “What have I done?” Captain Willie yelled back.  “You’re the one who tried to grab it out of my hands!”
    Traven stared aghast at the deep blue water as the realization hit him that neither the philosopher nor the captain was holding his sword.  They had dropped his sword into the depths of the ocean!  He watched as the ship sped away from where the sword had been dropped.  In despair he stared at the patch of water as he felt the sword stop falling and come to rest on the ocean floor.  What was he going to do without his sword?  It was his most valuable and useful possession.  Not only had it been wrought by the ambience, but it was his main form of protection.  It had felt so natural in his hands.  No other weapon had ever felt the same.  He needed the sword!
    He gave a start as he felt the sword growing closer.  He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but somehow he could tell that it was.  As the feeling increased, Traven stretched out his hand, willing the sword to come to him.  Suddenly the sword burst out of the ocean in a spray of water and flashed through the air into his open hand.  His mouth dropped open as he stared at the dripping sword.  Both the philosopher and the captain looked on with disbelief as the ocean water continued dripping off the raised sword and onto his sleeve.
    What had just happened was impossible.  He didn’t want to believe what he had seen.  Was he going crazy?  He knew of no way to explain what had occurred, but he had seen it with his own eyes.  He could feel the hilt molding once again in his hand and could see his awestruck expression reflected back at him in the shining blade.  His sword had returned to him.
    “What in the . . .” the captain sputtered.  “How could . . .  I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed as he finally finished a full sentence.
    Traven felt the same way as the captain sounded.  He began to feel slightly unsteady on his feet, and it was more than just the increasing consistency of the large waves.
    “I think I’ll take Traven back to our quarters to get some more rest,” Studell announced as he grabbed his arm and began leading him back to the stairs.  Traven let himself be led down the steps and into their small cabin as Captain Willie continued to stare from behind them.  Studell helped him sit down on the bottom bunk with his hand still tightly gripping the sword.  His lightheadedness started to dissipate as he closed his eyes and rested.  Even with his eyes shut he could tell that the philosopher was pacing quickly back and forth in the cramped room.  He rubbed his head with his free hand.  He wondered if the philosopher might have an explanation for what had just occurred.
    “Philosopher Studell,” he began, “what just happened?”
    “What just happened?” the philosopher asked quizzically.  “You tell me, young man.  You did it!”
    Traven glanced down at the stone on the hilt of his sword.  It must have had something to do with the might stone.  There was no other explanation.  The stones had magical properties.  What he couldn’t figure out is why nothing like this had ever happened before with the sword.
    “Light the lamp,” Studell demanded.  Grumbling, Traven got off the bed to light it.  He had been enjoying the dimness of the room.  It didn’t bother his head as much.
    “Not like that! Sit back down.  I want you to light it using the ambience.”  Traven sat back down leaving the lamp unlit.
    “I don’t think the stone works that way,” he responded.
    “Don’t use the stone.  I want you to light the lamp by yourself.”
    “I can’t do that,” Traven said in