Sword & Saturday — When Silver Is Better
But keep it polished and shining!
The gleam of steel is typical for swords, be they foil, épée, saber, broadsword, claymore, or any other form. But in some cases, silver is better. For one thing, it has often been portrayed as having magical powers. Silver crosses keep away vampires, and silver bullets kill them. It is also seen as a symbol of purity. Thus, silver chalices, platens, and candlesticks bring a glow and sense of spotlessness to religious rites. And silver is used to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage. Full moons are often described as silvery, too.
That image of power and purity inspires many of us in our writings, as well. So a sword with a silver blade was definitely the weapon of choice for my heroine Krystaline Mondall in my WIP currently titled The Wiccan Files.
There’s a certain pattern to these special weapons. First is the finding:
“…Do you have a silver sword?”
“The diary says I do, and it’s called the Sword of Deliverance. No idea where it is, though.”
“We have to find that sword.”
“And when we do, you’ll have to carry it with you always and stay near me, ready to do what you must.”
Margaret nodded, her eyes growing moist and her bottom lip trembling.
Krystaline put the diary in a pocket of her long gown. The two women began another search, this time for that sword. Graethm followed them around the courtyard, landing wherever they were searching. The last place they looked was that underground room in the main residence that the three villagers had insisted on seeing. When Krystaline unlocked and opened the door, Graethm flew through the doorway and now perched on a pile of boxes next to a large wooden chest. She had removed the spell that made the place look unused and dusty. The labels on the boxes were now visible, showing that they held things used by Wiccans in their observances.
“Here?” asked Krystaline, going to the wooden chest that now gleamed with some power within.
Graethm hooted and said, “It awaits you, Daughter of Lord Reginald, the Great Wiccan.”
“How do we get that lock off?” asked Margaret, tired from their search.
Krystaline looked around and found a large stone. She managed to lift it and carry it to the chest. Then she smashed the old, rusty lock. It fell off in pieces. She dropped the stone and raised the lid. There were only two things in it—a sword and a leather scabbard lying side-by-side. The sword was pure silver, with a two-foot-long double-edged blade, a hilt wrapped with leather straps, and a large, polished piece of cobalt mounted into the hilt tip.
Then, of course, comes the use, showing the powers that sword possesses beyond merely slicing flesh:
Then Krystaline…pulled the Sword of Deliverance out of its scabbard. “It might not pierce Nergal in his original form,” she thought, “but he’s in a human body now.” She held the sword with both hands, the silver blade pointing toward him. That metal flashed brightly, casting its light on Nergal. He howled as if a pack of hounds were devouring him and fled Edward’s body, knowing that the blade could pierce him inside his human host. Edward slumped to the floor…
And again:
Beatrice was lying on the sofa and seemed to be asleep, her red hair spread across the pillow, her light grey nun’s habit loose around her.
“Let her go,” said Edward, picking up Krystaline’s staff with the opal and pointing it at Nergal, the Destroyer, as Krystaline once more pulled the Sword of Deliverance out of its scabbard tied round her waist.
The Destroyer turned to him, sending out a bolt of lightning. Krystaline deflected it with the silver blade of the Sword of Deliverance, sending the lightning toward a wall where it burned a hole.
Krystaline pointed the blade at him and declared, “Oh, Sword of Deliverance, I beseech thee to chase the spirit of Nergal out of this man and into my staff created by the gracious consent of Druantia, Spirit of the Trees, from the branch of a mighty oak in the woods on Mondall Estate.”
She said it a total of thirteen times. The body of the homeless man Nergal had possessed backed away from the sword with its gleaming silver blade and out onto the balcony. Nergal didn’t seem afraid this time as he had in Columbus. He just kept stepping backward. The body fell over the railing, but Nergal’s spirit hovered there—a faint figure with stag antlers on his head. His eyes flamed yellow. He turned away and faced out over Lake Michigan.
And yet again:
But the van didn’t slow down. Instead, it speeded up and whizzed past the wooden barricades that had flown aside at their approach as the Sword of Deliverance shot out a bolt of silvery light. Pieces of that barricade now lay on the grass along the road as did several members of the Darke Coven who had jumped out of the way. The car followed.
And so on through the book.
Yes, when it comes to magical swords used to fight loathsome demons, silver is definitely better than steel!
[Please note: These quotes are from a work in progress. Anything and everything might change as I continue working on it.]
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NOTE: My text and images are all human generated. No AI content ever!
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Thanks for reading. If you’ve been enjoying my flash fiction on here, please check out my first book of short stories (a couple are actually novelette length), newly published by Wordwooze Publishing. (I even designed the cover.)
A scammer on Amazon is now selling paperbacks of my book for $26.11. Avoid Amazon! Or be sure to buy the $16.99 version posted by my publisher.