Greetings, O curious reader! Hast thou also entered this realm of blissful procrastination that thy scholarly sufferings may be alleviated?
Fear not, for thou wilt soon ward off deadlines with a lightsaber of thine own. I myself shall instruct thee in its fashioning, which happily requires nought but the most commonplace, easily-procurable materials.
[Disclaimer: As Arthur is a largely fictitious character, what he considers a worthy weapon may not perform so well in actual combat. Readers, likewise, must duel at their own risk.]
Lightsabers excel in many areas where traditional swords lack, but it is their terrific convenience that really sets them a class above other weapons. Obviously, they penetrate swords and armour and are virtually weightless, but in a pinch, they can boil water very quickly, make excellent fly swatters, or even simultaneously chop firewood and light it on fire.
If thou wouldst fabricate this invaluable instrument, then read on in thy illuminated manuscript—Merlin tells me that in the future they literally are illuminated! Firstly, however, I see fitting to give some account of my unlikely possession of this weapon. It was during a particularly boring quest that I met a fantastically astonishing character. A jaded knight by his own pronouncement, Sir Luke possessed neither horse nor armour, yet little did I doubt that he really could walk on air as he claimed, for rocks would levitate at his bidding. Most unintelligibly spake he of a great rebellion in far-far-away Galilee and of his sunken ship which sorely postponed his return there.
Obviously, he could not offer any good reason for being in Britain, nor could I think of any, and as such, I challenged him to the obligatory duel. The moment he drew his weapon, though, I cried out in astonishment, for I knew it was no ordinary sword. Regrettably, Excalibur has never been the same since. He was trespassing, though, and after the rather short-lived duel he chivalrously offered to instruct me in the replication of his own sword as compensation for my melted one. His instructions I shall now relay unto thee.
What Thou Must First Acquire:
Whilst the average 5th century commoner does not have access to some of these things, Merlin keeps me well-stocked:
- One normal-sized LED light (Sir Luke used a certain gemstone, but magical futuristic lamps such as these work better)
- Three small button batteries
[Note: In most areas, LED lights can often be found already attached in a plastic casing to batteries and a switch of some kind. These assemblies are commonly used for built-in flashlights on lighters or pens. I usually look for these and salvage them as they help bypass several intermediate steps for connecting the bulb to its power source.]
- Tape (normal tape. From the future.)
- Straw—not dried grass, the plastic kind—of lightsaber-y color
- Shiny foil tape (or regular aluminum foil and double-sided tape)
- Pliers (although optional, these will make thy life easier)
- Copper wire thin enough to tie or wrap around things
Building Thy Lightsaber:
If thy power source does not come pre-assembled (though I highly recommend using one that is), thou must first combine the light-up elements in as simple a way possible. Stack three button batteries and attach the LED as shown below (this may require cutting one of its wires shorter).
Make sure to fasten everything securely with lots of tape. Leave the circled end of the LED’s wire free, and wrap copper wire around the end of it to extend it slightly. To ignite the weapon in this case, one must simply hold said wire onto the battery stack manually.
Additionally, thou canst join battery to bulb with a switch, as I did.
Now cometh the fun part! Take the straw and observe how easily it fits over thy bulb apparatus. If it fitteth loosely, tape around the LED until the blade shoveth firmly into place over it:
Once the blade’s position satisfieth thee, use tape to permanently attach it and give the hilt an even, consistently cylindrical shape:
Finally, thou canst use foil tape (or aluminum foil) to instantly transform the unsightly electrical skeleton into a working lightsaber!
Well! That’s finished then! Whosoever readeth this, I thank thy fingers for their tireless scrolling and hope thy replication of this noble weapon stickest not in any stone. It would be no use trying to get it stuck in one either; it would slice right through, and either way, would be an awfully doubtful path to kingship.
Now, I simply must wait for that Baker fellow to return with the agreed payment of remote-controlled car parts for this article. A worthy gift, surely, though I wish I could instead keep this literally-illuminated manuscript. Doubtless, I’m happy he will find someone else to write his next installment, but I’m afraid quill pens will never feel the same after its marvellous built-in letter selection board.
Photo Credits: Timothy Baker
Cover Photo, Original: https://www.google.com/search?q=king%20arthur%20tapestry&tbm=isch&hl=en&tbs=isz:l&sa=X&ved=0CAIQpwVqFwoTCKjMk7up4vkCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAC&biw=1080&bih=666#imgrc=4aB8UgNNUqzNEM