The sword didn't leave my side after that day.
Kael called it a Sword Womb — a rare, soul-forged weapon that bonds with its wielder at the core of their being.
They were mostly myth. Stories whispered by old warriors around fire pits. Blades that choose their bearer. Blades that whisper back.
I didn't choose this thing.
But it chose me.
---
It started with whispers at night.
Not loud. Not evil. Not demanding.
Just… present.
> "Why do you tremble in your sleep?"
> "Why do you flinch when your mother hugs you?"
> "Why does your heart cry out for numbness?"
I told myself I was imagining it. That maybe the sword had just left a magical hangover or something.
But deep down, I knew.
The sword wasn't just some fancy weapon.
It was alive.
And it saw everything I tried to hide.
---
Three Days Later
Kael trained me every morning. Mostly to get me moving — sword swings, balance drills, breathing techniques.
Even as a toddler, he expected effort. No whining. No shortcuts.
> "The blade you carry feeds on your soul," he told me. "If you're weak — it will eat you."
Awesome parenting.
Elira, on the other hand, would sneak me honeyed bread and whisper, "He forgets you're still just a child."
But she never told him to stop.
She knew what this world was like.
She knew what I'd need to survive it.
---
That Night
I sat alone near the edge of the forest, the cursed blade resting in the dirt beside me. Fireflies glowed faintly between the trees. The moonlight — all three moons — bathed the world in soft hues of silver and violet.
I looked down at the blade.
Sleek. Cold. Hungry.
> "You gonna say something creepy again?" I whispered.
> "…Only if you lie to me again, Sakamoto."
The voice was female.
Soft, lilting, with a slight teasing edge.
Like someone who'd laugh at your pain but still hold your hand afterward.
> "Why do you fear your new life?" she asked.
> "Why shouldn't I?" I muttered. "I was nothing in the last one. A drunk. A joke. A coward who couldn't even—"
My voice caught.
I never told anyone that I died trying to take the easy way out. That I didn't just get hit by a truck by accident.
The sword was silent for a long moment.
> "…You tried to die.
And yet you live."
> "You still fear love.
Yet you crave it."
> "You pretend to laugh.
But you miss the taste of your tears."
> "You're broken, Sakamoto."
> "But broken things... make the sharpest blades."
That was when I asked her, quietly:
> "What's your name?"
> "You may call me Niris.
The Blade of Burden."
> "Until your soul breaks me... or I break you."
---
Later That Night
Elira found me sitting there, still holding Niris, my eyes unfocused.
She didn't scold me.
She sat beside me, wrapping a soft woolen shawl around us both. Her voice was barely a whisper.
> "Your father sees a warrior in you."
> "But I see… a boy who's been carrying something heavy since before he was even born."
I didn't answer.
She leaned her head against mine.
> "You don't have to say it. I just want you to know… even if you never tell us where your eyes have been, or what nightmares live inside them… I will always love you. As my son."
I bit my lip.
Hard.
I didn't cry.
But I was close.
---
The Forest Shifted
Suddenly, the wind changed.
The trees… shuddered.
The fireflies all scattered at once.
Elira's head snapped up.
> "Sakamoto. Get inside."
> "What's wrong?"
> "Now."
She stood.
And then I saw it.
A shadow in the forest. Something huge. Covered in smoke. Moving without sound. Its eyes glowing like ember shards.
Niris pulsed in my hand.
> "Ohhh…"
"It begins, little broken boy."
"You may want to survive this one."