Into the Ghostroom: A 4th Century Sword and Sorcery Adventure

In the end, there came a day when the old man finally gave in to his fears. He had waited for so many years, but it was no longer enough. It was time to tell his great-granddaughter of a truth that she would never be able to accept.

She was only eight at the time and he had been hoping that she would never have to know. But after her mother's suicide and her father's abandonment, it left his daughter all alone with him, and he could not bear to see himself fail her as well.

When the girl returned home from school that day, her grandfather rushed her into his study where he pulled out an old wooden box and handed it to her.

"This is something I have kept secret from you all your life," he said as he opened up the box and revealed its contents. "These are your great-grandfather's swords."

Thalassa reached out and touched them one by one, feeling their weight in her hands. They looked ancient, like they had been forged centuries ago, but they were still sharp as ever. She was about to ask her grandfather about them when he stopped her.

"Before I tell you why I've kept these from you, I must warn you first," he said solemnly. "These swords were magical and dangerous. There were two of them: a golden sword named Sunlight, and a silver sword named Moonlight. They were created hundreds of years ago by a powerful mage known only as The Shining One. He gave these swords to my ancestors for safekeeping because he knew that even though they possessed great powers, they were equally dangerous."

"You mean these swords can hurt people?" Thalassa asked, looking up at him with fear in her eyes. She slowly put the swords back into their box and closed it shut again with trembling fingers. "I don't want them anymore... I don't want any part of this..."

"No! You misunderstand me!" the old man said quickly. "These swords cannot hurt anyone or anything unless you will it yourself with your mind! You must understand that while they possess great powers - far greater than our own - they can only be wielded by someone who has been chosen by fate."

"What? Chosen by fate?" Thalassa's eyes widened in shock and confusion as she stared at him in disbelief. "But how? Who in our family has ever been chosen by fate?"

"That is exactly my point," the old man said heavily as he leaned against his desk and sighed heavily with exhaustion. "I wanted to keep this from you because I feared for your safety... But since everything has happened... It is better if you know now." He took a deep breath before continuing on hoarsely: "Your mother was never meant to wield those swords..." His voice trailed off sadly before he continued on resolutely: "...And neither are you..."