The children squealed excitedly as their grandfather continued his pantomime, forcefully tugging the imaginary blade from the charred body and holding it aloft.
“I say to you, my brethren, we are a brotherhood. We rise where our fallen have lain and strike out at the heart of darkness. No forces of evil shall prevail over us for we have virtue and honor on our side. Together we shall trample out the darkness, uncover their deception and expose them to the light. Though they sought to slay us, I shall take their blade and strike out at them, sever their limbs and leave the rest to wither in despair!”
“The troops cheered wildly at Eleon’s words,” Grandpa continued, in his natural voice. “As a symbol of his pledge, Eleon took the blade and slashed at his own hand, making a solemn blood vow. His oath was simple, with a pure eloquence, but because of the black magic in the blade it was also completely binding. Eleon vowed that he would never lay down arms against the armies of darkness; that he would continue on through the afterlife as a beacon of hope to a weary world racked by evil. Had it not been for the blood, those would have merely been pretty words but from the instant the first drop of blood dampened the blade, the curse was bound. The rest of the troops were so inspired that many of them joined in the oath; their blood fused them into an unbreakable pact together against the damned. None of the men had even the slightest clue that their lives would be forever altered but what is done in blood cannot be undone.”
****Please return for Part 11 on Monday, November 18th****