Chapter 2: The Sword That Knows My Name
Kael gasped as the sword's energy surged into his body.
It felt like fire and ice at the same time—his veins burned, his muscles tensed, and his eyes blurred as if they were being remade. Images not his own flickered through his mind: war-torn skies, cities swallowed by shadows, a hand drenched in blood reaching for salvation.
And through it all… that voice again.
"You are mine, Kael. And I… am yours."
He staggered back, the blade still in his grasp, its weight shifting to match his strength—as if adjusting to him.
For the first time in his life… a sword had chosen him.
And not just any sword. This one was alive.
"W-What are you?" Kael asked, his voice shaking.
The runes along the blade glowed faintly, and the wind whispered the word:
"Astral."
Before Kael could process it, footsteps crunched behind him.
"Kael?" a voice called out—stern, familiar.
It was Master Rudo, the dojo's leader and former war hero, flanked by two senior disciples. All three had swords drawn, eyes wary.
"What happened here?" Rudo demanded, eyes narrowing at the crater, then at the sword in Kael's hand.
Kael didn't answer. He couldn't. He still felt like the ground was spinning under him.
Rudo stepped forward. "Put it down. That thing… it's not natural."
"But it—" Kael started.
"I said put it down!"
Kael's instincts flared. He stepped back, gripping the sword tighter. It pulsed in his hand, responding to his fear.
The disciples moved to flank him. One raised his blade.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, orphan."
Kael's eyes sharpened. In that moment, something inside him shifted.
He was no longer the blade-less boy.
In a blur of movement, Kael swung Astral.
The air split.
A gust of raw energy exploded outward, flinging the disciples back and cutting a deep scar into the ground between them. Sparks flickered from Astral's edge. The sword thrummed, alive and eager.
Kael stared at what he'd just done—he hadn't even meant to attack.
Rudo's eyes widened. Not in anger… but in recognition.
"That sword… no. It can't be." His expression twisted into something Kael had never seen before—fear.
"You… you need to leave, Kael. Now."
Kael took a step back. "What?"
"You don't understand what you're holding. If the temple finds out—if the Order finds out—you'll be hunted."
The clouds above were already churning again. Something far greater than Kael had been set in motion.
"I didn't ask for this," Kael said, his voice low.
"No. But now you carry it. And the world won't let you live peacefully."
Kael turned, the blade Astral humming softly at his side.
He looked one last time at the place that had raised him, then walked away.
Down the cliff.
Into the unknown.
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To be continued…