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Ammon was a unique young man. He was tall, well built, and brought his

long blond hair over his shoulder in a ponytail. But, it was his spirit,

which you could almost see, that made him so unusual. He seemed too kind

to fit in this world, but it wasn't like he was clueless about the

corruption around him; he always know what to do and say to get the best

results.


Ammon was also in search for something. Though, not even he knew what.

Now, at age 21, he was a traveling man, and one day happened upon a

quaint road side town on his motorbike. When entering the residential

zone, he heard a wispering in his head. It made only one word which he

couldn't make out. He was drawn almost magnetically on his cycle to a

back street lined with mobile homes. Hesitantly, he parked in front of a

hugh garage sale filled with just about everything. A short bald man came

out to greet him. " 'Afternoon! What can I get ya'?" Ammon stood blankly

for a moment. "I guess I'm here for something... something out of the

ordinary. Got anything like that?" "Out of the ordinary 'huh?" the man

repeated, "Yeah, I got some interesting peices out back labeled with 'out

of the ordinary'."


He was brought into a small backyard with a long table to one side. On

the table was delicatly placed many interesting artifacts. "Is this what

you were looking for?" The man said. "Hmm." Ammon stepped forward to get

a better look. As soon as his eyes fell on the sword, he heard the voice

in his head again. It was much clearer, and the word which was sounded

out could be recogized. It was his own name.


The bald man turned away to tend to other customers. Slowly, he drew

near the sword. The handle was short, making it a one handed weapon. The

thin, ore-edged blade was offset forward from the handle, then ran about

two feet and angled back at the top. There were also two clawlike

projections over the handle, supposedly for protection. Then there was a

large blue circular jewel over the base of the blade, and when Ammon

gazed into it, it gazed back. "Ooh, that one doesn't come cheap..." the

bald man was back at his side making a gesture at the weapon that was,

(Ammon failed to realize) in his hand.


It would be easy to understand, why a normal, bald guy would be so

frightened when he saw his customer pass his hand over the jewel of one

of his prized peices and make the blade edge vanish into this air. "How

much would you like?" Ammon said pleasantly, putting the condensed

version of the weapon in his backpack. "uh...sputter... for you?... two

dollars..." the man seemed fearful for his life. The payment was made and

Ammon sped off to the nearest motel.


In his room, he withdrew the bladeless artifact from his pack and laid

it in his hands, looking into the jewel. The wispering came back to him.

"Ammon, ... it is you... I've waited so long for you to find me again."

"Who are you?" Ammon softly spoke aloud. "You once named me Axys, after I

was forged many millenia ago." "Millenia...", it was hard to believe.

"Your spirit is so good and kind, Ammon. I was able to place it into

another body each time you died. But its been many hundreds of years to

find the right kind of body this time."


The jewel flashed, and Ammon's mind was flooded with memories of long

ago times of battles fought, lives saved, and friends made with this

sword as his companion. Suddenly, he understood and knew what needed to

be done next. "Alright Axys, let's go first thing in the morning." Then

he stopped and thought. "Y'know, I really should go back to that man at

the garage sale and thank him..." The jewel flushed a shade of red.

"Nah," said Axys, "Neither he, nor his ancestors cleaned me up once..."