Peter never grew accustomed to the unwelcoming chill of the cave. It was not merely the absence of heat that made him shiver. Always, as soon as he appeared in the cave and glanced up at the sword, he felt as if he stood without armour before an army of uncountable number, all of whom could strike fear into the greatest warrior’s heart. To step forward was as if he was impaling himself on their spear tips, or asking to be pelted with their arrows. The nightmare that was that cave haunted him always, but it also presented a challenge he was determined to beat.

Peter glared at the sword in the stone. The symbol of the dominance and battle-hardened hearts of his ancestors and their loyalty to the God that had given them his power to wield. 147 times Peter had tried to take it. Had thought he was worthy enough only to be rejected. The first 23 times, he's been blasted back fiercely enough to nearly kill him. Then he'd managed to make his siblings fall in line following John's attempted assassination. Peter could still remember waking to find his brother driving a dagger towards his heart. The brother he'd never paid much attention to. His book-loving brother who'd always spent more time in libraries and in his mother's quarters than he'd ever spent in the training yards. Peter had felt an overwhelming rage when he'd seen that always passive brother make such a move. Not at his brother though. No, Peter had been enraged at his own negligence. How had he allowed his brother to think that this crown, this warrior's pride and bloody position of power was within his passive reach?

"Fall in line or die, brother".

His one and only warning to John. He'd seen terror in his brother's eyes. A sudden realisation that not only had he made a mistake in trying to kill Peter, but he'd desired the wrong thing. That he was not enough for the position and that if he was to survive to an old age, he'd have to find ways to help rather than hinder Peter's rise to power.

"They'll stop you. With your mother dead, your support has come to influence you, or turned to me or the others," John had told him. His knowledge of the court surprising Peter. John's ambitious mother was thorough in her education.

"Then let them," Peter had said, "The more they think they're getting what they want, the more compliant they will be".

"But, your reputation will-"

"Reputation?" Peter had laughed, "The only reputation of mine that truly matters is my ability to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies and a never ending fighting spirit and loyalty into the hearts of my people".

John had taken a bit longer to understand that. He'd seen it eventually though. He'd seen it in the hearts of their other siblings. In the Lust Driven Priestess that had knelt before Peter when he was just 14, begging him to allow her businesses to remain open at any price. Peter had demanded her loyalty, she had proven it to him in the best way she knew how. For a Priestess of her caliber and loyalty to swear herself to a single individual...it was unheard of, and the beginning of a reputation that had been more than beneficial for masking Peter's true motives and actions. Peter had conducted more crucial deals in his bed than he had anywhere else.

All until Saorise Caramort.

That woman. To refuse his advances despite her interest...she was not one to bow easily. Even if she'd been on her knees before him, it had been more than clear to Peter that she was not a pawn he could use. She would do as she was told, but within reason. She would tell him if his plans were stupid. She would knock sense into him if he got to big for his britches. The thought of it was a source of frustration and anger for Peter. No one told him what to do. No one could beat him. He was Excavor's symbol of Victory, he was going to hold The God's weapon.

Because he was worthy of it. Because there was no one else who could. Because no one else truly knew what was at stake.

The horrifying image of those demons fighting each other for the first privilege of slaughter here flashed across Peter's mind as he reached out for the sword.

It was his, he'd won the East. The place no one had been able to take in ten thousand years. This was by far his largest victory yet.

Peter's fingers brushed the stone, and the biting cold instantly jabbed up his arm and into his heart. Peter froze for the shortest moment. Then his heart beat, and his fingers slipped inside the stone.

Peter's eyes widened. Yes! Yes! Finally a victory that Excavor acknowledged. Finally the sword was his!

Just as his hand had slipped inside to his wrist, he suddenly hit a solidness once more. Peter's celebration stopped short, his grin of victory freezing. His heart beat once more, then a great jolt of power rippled out from the sword and into his being. Peter flew back with so much force that his eyes shot open and he felt the air leaving his lungs.

Peter gasped, his hands clawing at the carriage door.

Lady Eloise and Lady Selene awoke at the disturbance, and upon laying eyes on Peter, their gazes filled with concern.

"My King?" asked Lady Selene.

Lady Eloise shifted to beside Peter immediately.

"Selene, get him on the floor of the carriage, knees folded up to his chest, quick!"

Selene reacted quickly to the order like lightning, and Peter found himself on the floor of the carriage.

"In through your nose, Peter, in through your nose," Eloise spoke calmly.

She held his head cradled slightly forward to meet his knees. Peter closed his eyes at the fear of lost air, then, after a tense moment, he managed to breathe in, his lungs opening up once more as the chill left him.

After a few silent moments, Peter sat up, then stood and opened the carriage door and jumped out, marching away.

"My King!"

"Your Majesty?"

Peter ignored them. He ignored them all.

Several hundred metres from the carriage he finally stopped. He'd been closer than ever. The stone had accepted him. He'd claimed a worthy victory. Yet, he'd been rejected. One step forward, two steps backward.

Would he ever reach that sword? Would he ever be what Excavor wanted?

Peter rose his face to the sky and roared.

"URGH! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!"