[ IP ] Theory sucks ...

`` Focus!'' he snapped, his white beard flicking back and forth with each syllable. I rolled my eyes and looked towards the damned owl that served the old man as a second pair of eyes. 
 
 `` I'm here,'' I answered in exasperation, unrolling a scroll and skimming it. *The Building of Vayus* the title read and I sighed. *Another history of the city? * 
 
 `` In body, perhaps,'' the old man answered. `` But in mind you are far away. Tell me, young warrior woman,'' he continued mockingly. `` What monsters are you fighting today in that head of yours?'' 
 
 `` Old men who bore villagers to death,'' I answered testily and he chuckled. In front of me, Alberth scribbled notes on his parchment, following every word the old man said. I glanced towards my sword, thinking of how enjoyable it would be to thwack him with the flat end a few times. The old man coughed at me and I looked back towards him. `` What?'' I asked. 
 
 `` The building of Vayus was not without action if it is boredom you are so worried about,'' he explained patiently. `` The hill tribes killed many young men and violated countless young women before our forefathers drove them back into the mountains.'' I shrugged. I had heard the story a dozen times. All the old ladies weaving baskets down in the market assumed I would be delighted to hear them drone about how the city was when they were born a hundred years ago. And this wrinkled old man with his protruding nose and his beard that curled down to his toes was even worse. Each day, he badgered me about my studies until I caved and read another scroll while he talked and talked. *I'll be as old as him by the time I'm done... * I thought to myself. 
 
 ``... They never recovered Sir Arvan's mighty sword.'' the old man droned on and I perked to attention, scowling for having missed the first part of the story. `` Some say Nature claimed it as her own and that it is at the core of the largest tree in the Dark Forest. Others say it is at the top of the tallest mountain, sitting in the first place the sun shines each morning and the last place it shines each night.'' 
 
 `` Why is this sword so special?'' I interrupted and the old man finally smiled at me. 
 
 `` Ah, now you are interested, I see.'' I rolled my eyes but nodded, leaning forwards on the rock I sat on. Alberth had stopped his incessant scribbling and now looked up towards the old man. `` This sword was not crafted like any other sword. A small man made it, the last dwarf, some say. The steel was forged in the embers of a phoenix and cooled in the watery blood of a kraken. Invincible, some say it was, and light as a feather but capable of slicing through steel and stone and even dragonhide as easily as butter. Varonis she was called, hero in the Ancient Tongue.'' 
 
 I stood abruptly, my parchment falling to the ground as the feathered pen drifted down after it. The old man smiled at me knowingly. `` Do not bother, young lady. Men have spent hundreds of years and entire lives seeking that sword. But each time they find the thickest tree, there is another a bit thicker and each time they reach the tallest mountain, they look up to see a taller mountain.'' I shook my head vehemently. 
 
 `` I will find the sword,'' I stated with a shake of my head, remembering the clearing I had come across as I strolled through the depths of the forest a few moons past. I had thought it was a clearing at least, but when I looked up I saw nothing but leaves covering an empty space larger than a dozen castles. I grabbed a scroll from the pile that lay against a tree trunk and scowled as I read the title, searching for another. `` Here it is,'' I said, pointing at a line near the middle of the script. `` Greatness is not a man's size but what he does with the size he has.'' The old man stared at me curiously and tilted his head, urging me to continue. `` It is not the tree with the largest trunk. It is the tree whose leaves claim the most ground. And it is not the tallest mountain but the mountain that when you look upwards, you see naught but the gods.'' 
 
 With that, I grabbed my sword and my sack filled with stale bread and a waterskin and turned towards the Dark Forest, the mountains rising behind it. The branches of the trees leaned down to snatch at my arms and unseen animals scurried around the underbrush and I felt a thousand curious and hungry eyes tracking my every step. *Varonis*, I whispered to myself. *Varone. * Heroine. 
 
 ***** 
 
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