A Sword That Doesn't Exist

Swords are more than just weapons. They are artefacts. Symbols of their owner's status or martial prowess. Whether you have the slightest idea about fencing or not, a sword illustrates that you mean business.

It is no coincidence that the acquisition of a powerful sword often marks the hero's moment of transformation. Perhaps highlighting that the protagonist has accumulated enough wisdom and strength to turn the tides and go on the offensive to achieve the impossible. After all, no mere fool can leverage the Excalibur from its stony prison.

Moreover, a sword's martial nature is precisely what imparts its relevance as the instrument of a warrior; the progenitor of change. Whoever holds onto the hilt has the capacity to bring about the end of the old and carve reality in their fashion.

"The mythological hero, reappearing from the darkness that is the source of the shapes of the day, brings a knowledge of the secret of the tyrant's doom. (...) Transformation, fluidity, not stubborn ponderosity, is the characteristic of the living God." (Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces)

But really, what is the measure of a true legendary sword? What is it about the most powerful sword in the world that makes it more useful to the hero than just about anything, should their conquest necessitate more than just a high power level? What if there was a weapon guarded so heavily, demanding so much, that the mere path getting there would require far more effort than would be realistically expected from even the most valiant of knights. What if ― and pat yourself on the back, because you knew it was coming ― the knight herself was not even that keen on swinging a sword to begin with.

Needless to say, the holy sword is little more than the embodiment of the hero's first goal: the quest to achieve power and use it to vanquish the evil of the world, once and for all. In claiming the holy sword for themselves one surpasses the fallow physicality of their frame and becomes a vessel of the new order. Thus the properties of the sword itself ― its size, shape and durability, are of tertiary importance. Its source isn't nearly as important as its purpose, save maybe for the truly devoted lore enthusiasts.

This lead me to think that in order for a holy sword to merit its alleged relevance, its origin must be traceable to the hero's own nucleus. What metal the blade is made out of will not matter should the demon be not of this world to begin with, and if a hero cannot channel their strength into it, the sword is just a fancy double-edged knife. A hero needs to embrace their legacy before their sword can truly manifest its whole potential. It is by making peace with who they are that their instrument can realize its strength.

This is especially true for a heroine like Hornet, a heroine who despises violence and wishes to do without it, but has to embrace it in order to transcend. A protagonist setting out not to slay the dragon, but to befriend it, has no rock to pull the sword out of. Their ultimate weapon is a sword that doesn't exist in the world they inhabit.

I had a lot more to say on this topic but soon after I began writing I realized it would inadvertently spoil way too much, so I had to contain myself for the benefit of my readers. At least now you know.