When Tor woke, he found himself in a kind of void, only everything felt bright and warm. His head throbbed as he pushed himself up. He seemed to be standing on solid ground but was oddly floating. He looked around and screamed. A giant, blue dragon loomed above him.
"What the hell is that?" Tor yelled, fumbling for his sword.
"Shut up!" the dragon boomed. Tor fell silent, staring up at the hundred-foot beast.
"P-please don't eat me!" he stammered, holding his arms up.
The dragon peered down, curious. "You're scared, yes?" it asked.
Tor nodded. "Yeah, kinda intimidating."
The dragon sighed, then, slowly, impossibly, shrunk to Tor's height and shifted into a human form. He wore an elegant shirt, tie, and slacks; his hair was blonde, his eyes blue, and he looked about twenty. With a casual wave he summoned a cushioned chair.
"Welcome to my mental space. You are inside the sword Aries. I am Bahama."
Tor felt some of the fear drain away. "Really? You're Bahama? How did you get that chair?"
Bahama blinked. "You could've asked me anything… and you asked about the chair?" He looked Tor up and down. "This is my space. I make what I want."
"Why am I here, Bahama?" Tor asked, fingers tracing the fabric of the chair.
"I brought you," Bahama said. "You will take my sword and mete out justice to Malakar."
"You helped Rowen win," Tor said. "So why pick me for the sword?"
Bahama's eyes widened. "You don't know your lineage? First: you possess no elemental energy, so you can adapt to mine. Second: you're a direct descendant of Rowen Lloyd, the so-called 'God of Hunters.'"
Tor's jaw dropped. Bahama lay back in the chair, unfazed and almost bored.
"You mean I'm related to the greatest hunter ever?" Tor nearly shouted.
"Yes." Bahama sat up. "If you accept my sword, you must do three things: save as many people as you can, root out any injustice you find, and finally, confront Malakar himself, to destroy him and his beasts."
Tor nodded. "Of course. That was my plan anyway."
Bahama laughed. "Grand goals, and you can't even use a basic combustion technique! What a fool. I think we'll get along well."
"Certainly," Tor said, clenching his fist. "Now how do I get out of here?"
"Through the door behind you," Bahama replied. Tor blinked, there was a door where Bahama had said. "And go to Crescent-Moon Lake in the Sparrow Mountains. A man named Ben Watkins awaits you there; he'll teach you to wield the sword. Now be off."