“Broom tips?” Siouxsie asked. We already have some.” The twins held their brooms with one hand while the other reached up to part the bristles. Morell and prince Damron must not have known that witches keep long spear heads concealed in their brooms as they each looked shocked to see the long, deadly tines protruding.

  “Ah, but yours are not made of lyythium.” He held them a little closer. “These are indestructible.”

  “Nothing is indestructible.” The prince remarked with suspicion. “Even stone can be smashed if hit hard enough. I’ve never even heard of lyythium”

  “That is because you do not cohabitate with gels. Gels are swell its true, they can do a great number of things. But even when they expire, their remains are something of a miracle. Generations have lived here with me. I’ve studied them for hundreds of their generations. When they die, they turn to a fine light blue liquid that’s the color of a spring sky. If one should pour that liquid into a form and put fire to it, a flash petrification takes place and they become lyythium. What started as mere curiosity became something much more. Over many years and many experiments. Here, take these and insert them into your brooms.” Siouxsie and Robert reached out and took one, surprised at how incredibly light they were before unscrewing their old spear tips and inserting the new ones. The tips were triangular at the base, the three sides coming together to a tip so fine that neither dared test its sharpness.

  “They weigh almost nothing for their size.” Noted Robert.

  “Another of its many fine qualities.” Bohga nodded. He held his hand out and Siouxsie gave him her broom. “See here.” He reached back to the wall behind him and plucked an old stool from where it sat. With the stool in front of him, he raised the broom and held it dangling tip down only a few feet over the thick stump fashioned on three legs. When he let go, Hoxley expected it to stick and maybe fall over like a dropped kitchen knife. Instead, the broom struck with a weighty “Thunk!” and not only stuck into the stool but drove itself all the way through.

  “How did you do that?” Morell asked.

  “The lyythium has strange properties with motion. It carries unnatural power whichever way it is thrown. Bohga held the stool down with one hand and had to grunt to pull the broom free before giving it back to the witch girl. “And the spear tip has three sides. Very lethal.”

  “Why is that more lethal?” Asked the prince.

  “Because triangular wounds do not close like a slash or a simple puncture. A spear is not a toy. But if it is to be used then it should be well made and sharp.”

  “Thank you very much!” Said Siouxsie, who then elbowed her brother for a response.

  “Yes, thank you!”

  “What else is in there?” Morell asked as the witches returned to where they’d sat before.

  “What indeed.” Said Bohga, turning his gaze away from the twins and back to the contents within the box. Next his hands produced a sizeable weapon half the length of Hoxley’s pugil with a bulbous, but ornately cast head on it. All of it the frosted blue color of Lyythium.

  “Behold, the only mace I have ever crafted. Cast in the finest sand collected from riverbeds.” The cyclops said looking to the red-haired boy “Why don’t you see how it feels in your hand?”

  “Me?” Morell asked.

  “Yes, why not you? It’s a fine gift if I ever saw one. Take it.” Morell stood up from where he sat and approached slowly, watching the light glint off the strange glint that shone off the item.

  “Is it heavy?” he asked.

  “Perhaps you should feel for yourself.” Morell sized up the thing and stepped around to the middle where he could evenly hold the massive weapon. The cyclops saw his apprehension ad dropped it into his hands. Morell would have fallen on his face if not for Bohga catching him and keeping him upright. The boy’s face was a mask of wonderment.

  “It…it doesn’t weigh anything at all!” He whipped it about. “I’ve played with sticks that aren’t this heavy!” The mace head swung around in such a threatening manner that even Bohga leaned away from its path.

  “Try it here.” The titan suggested. Bohga picked up the punctured stool and set it down in front of the opening of the cave. “Give it a good strong up swing from the ground up and see if you can bat it out the door.” Hoxley gave him a good amount of room. The face with the red hair atop it grew the most wicked grin as its owner held the mace in the center with one hand and playfully bobbled the bulbous end with the other. When Bohga was clear of his path, Morell made a stutter step to take a swinging stance and gave a mighty shout.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Be gone, evil wooden stool!” He shouted. The swing was strong and accurate. When the lyythium mace struck the stool, it didn’t knock it out the cave entrance as much as it made the stool with a seat made of an entire foot thick wedge of tree trunk shatter into a hundred pieces! Everyone cowered or took cover as the immediate area was suddenly showered with minute wood bits and bark splinters. But of all those present, none looked more in awe than the boy holding the mace.

  “That’s unbelievable!” He exclaimed as he looked at the mess around them. “I didn’t know I could hit that hard!”

  “Ha ha!” Bohga laughed as he stepped closer to the boy and took the weapon. “A fine swing! That stool will never threaten another soul ever again! The lyythium has strange properties that give its wielder added ability. It increases the strength and its motion does not regard other solid objects as equals.” Bohga waved the mace just a little before striking the side of the cave with barely a tap. Everything trembled and shook, the impact point left deep cracks spiderwebbing into the stone. When everyone had a chance to see the damage done, he handed it back to Morell. “Do not strike that which you do not intend to flatten. It could easily split a skull or mash a mighty warrior to a pulp.” Amazed, the prince immediately got to his feet and stood next to the chest.

  “Do you have gifts in there that are suitable for a prince?” he asked.

  “Why, one would think that any of these items would be suitable for royalty. Didn’t I give you sword already?”

  “No, Bohga, you haven’t.” said the prince

  “Yes, well, my mind isn’t what it used to be. Be patient, heir to the east, I’m sure we can find something in the box for you as well.” The cyclops hands went back into the chest. “Let’s see what we can find. Hmmmm. Oh, he we are, it’s in the bottom.” The cyclops reached down and grabbed the chest from the bottom, shifting the contents to one side, before setting it down again. Bohga reached in and pulled out a sizeable disk that once turned up upright was recognizable as a shield. While far too small to defend a cyclops, it was the perfect size for someone of Prince Damron’s size. He presented it to the prince, concave to the floor to show that two thick leather straps were attached to the inside. It glistened a frosty blue in the light of the cave. The prince took the shield and slipped his arm though it. He looked so surprised at the manner in which it could be easily wielded.

  “It’s so light!” He exclaimed. “Do you have a matching sword? I demand you give me one to match!”

  “There are no swords.” Bohga said with a sour look. “If you are unhappy with what I’ve given you,” he held out his big grey hand. “Then you should return the shield and be grateful for the stomach of food I have so freely provided.”

  “No!” The prince held the shield out of reach. “I’m sorry! It’s a fine shield! Please let me keep it!”

  “I shall, but you have a great deal to learn, your highness. Someone who may rule one day should know that when he’s not surrounded by those loyal to him, his kingdom begins and ends where the reach of his good will lies.”

  “I-I’ll remember that.” he said.

  “If you can, then the gift is yours to keep. The shield should suffice on its own as it carries the very same properties as the mace. It can stop and absorb great motion and strikes with little abuse to its wielder. And should you choose to strike with it, the lyythium delivers a greater blow than a normal shield. Here, strike the wall in the same place as I have with the mace.” The prince did as he was told and swing the shield to strike the wall of the cave with the edge. Everything trembled. When he pulled it away, everyone marveled at the sharp, foot wide gauge left by the shields edge. “I see you have a metal sword. Coupled with this, you should be a formidable opponent against someone twice your size. More than you expected, yes?” Bohga asked the boy.