I marched with purpose as I walked straight to the back, ignoring the surprise from Daphne. As I got close, my speed lessened as my fear disappeared. The sword was not Excalibur. It couldn’t have. We made that sword out of special metal and so heavily enchanted that the chances of it being broken were near impossible. Instead, it was Claidheamh na Fìrinn. The Sword of Truth in modern English. Merlin named it, far better than what I was going to name it. The silver sword with a very unique look. It was more curved, with a wave in the center with what used to be white runes. The hilt had a ruby red gem. The grip was black leather, still in decent condition, but showed wear and tear.