Harry Potter And The Mad King Of Swords

It was a while ago. In another world. When the General was still gaining power. When he still sought after it like a madman.

He had been scouting around a forest. To make a mental map for anything he could use against the enemy.

Nothing was noteworthy. Except for a young looking man sitting at the edge of a pond. He gazed into the water. The man was the calmest person the General had ever met. He had the eyes of a dead man. With a sheathed blade next to him.

The General stared from a distance. He decided to check it out. Not a very smart move, but he held his life in little regard.

He sat on the ground next to the dead calm man and stared into the pond.

The dead calm man spoke in a quiet mellow soft tone, "What is it that are you looking for, young soldier?"

The General responded with a glimmer of extreme want in his eyes, "Power."

The man with a soft and seemingly uncaring face asked, "Why is that?"

"I don't like the world, so I want to change it."

The man spoke gently, "I see. What will you do once you reach that point?"

"To hopefully become someone like you."

"So what type of person am I to you?"

"Someone who's finished it all and can rest now."

"That's nice."

"Could you teach me anything?"

The man stared into the grey clouds, "Of course. Stand up."

The General stood up, took a deep breath, and took a few steps back. The man got up and faced the General. Grabbing his sword as well.

He gripped the hilt with one hand and grabbed the sheathe with his other hand, with the sword on the right side of his body. He took an iaido stance in preparation to draw. The air got thinner and heavier. The man spoke in a cold voice, "Get ready."

The General took another deep breath and took his double edged sword out. He took a stance and wielded the hilt with both hands, with the sword in front of his body, and the tip of the blade pointed towards his enemy. He studied the other opponent. Based on the sheathe of the weapon, it was a one edged sword, and the General had the range advantage.

The tension rose as they stood in their stances for what seemed like forever. Then, eternity was abruptly ended as the General lifted his sword up and swung down, while moving towards the man. In response, the man drew his blade, revealing a broken sword.

They flashed past each other and the man sheathed his broken blade. The General smiled bitterly and spoke, "Ah, what a shame."

He stared at his sword as it split in half. The man turned around to face the General.

He spoke to the General with somewhat emotion, more than he'd shown before, "Follow me, young man."

He General followed. They walked around the pond and eventually, were lead to a small hut.

The man walked inside and came back out with a sheathed double edged blade with a golden guard, "Once upon many years ago, I had been entrusted with the swords of my past comrades. All of which are now dead. I have one more sword from back then. This is that sword. It's brothers and sisters have already gone. It's the third and last sword of this type the Blacksmith made. I give it to you as I deem you worthy. Keep it well."

The General took the sword with much care and marveled at it. He looked at the man and bowed. The man spoke, "Well, I'm finished now. Take this broken blade. Perhaps you may find use for it."

The General stared into the man's eyes and asked him, "What is your name sir?"

"I'm just a survivor of a dead era. My name is not important for now. Maybe I'll tell you later, but you must go now."

As the General was shooed away, he thanked the man profusely. Soon, the General had left, and the man was alone again. He laughed at how he had given a treasure to a stranger. He was sleepy, tranquil, and happy how the day went. He went to bed and slept. Waiting for the day the world would change, like how his did.