KEIICHI MIURA

A variety of weaponry decorated the wall in front of me, displaying the artistry and diversity of battle tools. With their sparkling blades and robust hilts, swords, maces, and other armaments were lined up. Among them all, though, it was the daggers that drew my attention because their nimble and discrete character matched my favoured battle style.

My cherished dagger had succumbed to the wear and tear of innumerable conflicts, necessitating the purchase of a new weapon. Its once-sharp blade has faded with time, with the edges losing their sharpness and accuracy. It now lay like a memento of bygone conquests, with its mission accomplished and service rendered.

Fortunately, I had amassed a little quantity of currency through my efforts and journeys. With these funds, I set out to obtain a new weapon that would not only outlast its predecessor but also serve as an extension of my own talent and drive.

A pair of magnificent daggers drew my attention; their distinct charm was difficult to resist. As I concentrated my attention on them, it became clear that these twin knives had an enigmatic nature. They radiated an air of unfathomable mystery and concealed power, bathed in a deep, jet-black tone.

A voice from behind jolted me out of my concentration as I was entranced by the picture before me. I turned to confront an elderly woman, her weathered features reflecting a lifetime of experience. Curiosity peaked, and I inquired about the origins and importance of the mesmerising daggers.

With a pleasant grin, the woman introduced herself as the store’s proprietor, saying that she had taken over when her husband died. She talked with a tinge of sorrow in her voice, the weight of her loss palpable.

"These daggers," she explained, "are relics from the mystical 14th realm." They were made from a unique and powerful mineral found only in that realm. If you look attentively, you’ll notice an incantation delicately engraved on their blades."

"This incantation is one-of-a-kind and deeply personal," she said. "It registers with the chosen wielder, forging a strong bond between the daggers and their true owner. The daggers will answer with a simple recitation of the spell, returning to the grip of their real lord."

Curiosity combined with eagerness as I asked about the cost of the daggers. The old lady appeared to enjoy my great interest in the artefacts, her eyes sparkling with a nostalgic gleam. She reacted with a kind grin, appreciating the bond I had with the incredible weaponry.

"Young man, it appears that you have a true appreciation for these daggers," she said. "I leave the determination of their price to you in honour of my late husband and the spirit of our adventuring days. This little shop is only a reminder of the heritage we once shared, and it gives me great pleasure to transfer these remnants on to deserving hands."

Her remarks struck a chord with me, echoing the sense of fate that had led me to this point. Here was a lady who, like me, had stepped into the unknown. The metropolis that surrounded us had previously been a small town built from the ambitions and endeavours of the first venturers who ventured to traverse the paths of the ninth limbo.

Inspired by her narrative, I offered a reasonable offer, cognizant of the importance these daggers represented in terms of both material worth and metaphysical power. The transaction was completed, and a surge of energy coursed through my body as I gripped the twin daggers in my hands. It was as though the weapons recognised their new keeper, and an incantation that was both foreign and oddly familiar inscribed itself in my consciousness.

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The sensation was intense, as if a latent link had been reawakened, linking me to the daggers on a deeper level. The invocation struck a chord within me, its power coursing through my blood. It was an occult relationship formed between the daggers and me, a hidden language of mastery.

**

I found refuge beside a tranquil river on the outskirts of town, armed with my newly acquired weapons. As I sat there, a strange sight struck my eye—a little creature unlike anything I’d ever seen. It looked like a lizard, but its three tails gave it a unique appearance. I approached the thing with caution, intrigued.

However, when I got closer, an incomprehensible phenomenon occurred in front of my eyes. The once-vibrant shape of the monster began to wither and die, as if the essence of life were being drained from its very existence. Its motions slowed and its vitality dwindled until, ultimately, it succumbed to the weight of sadness and lay motionless in front of me. The realisation hit me with an overpowering intensity at that moment—I had accidentally caused this creature’s fate.

The gravity of the situation engulfed me, destroying whatever illusions or romanticised ideas I had about the power I had lately discovered—sol-weaving.

In my thoughts, the haunting words of the ancient Avyl from the council of Avylrath reverberated. "This boy reeks of death!" Those remarks had a profound meaning, revealing the truth of my life. Everything started to make sense, like a puzzle piece suddenly slotting into place. My fundamental core, the nexus of my existence, was intimately linked to the domain of death.

My early years had been spent in the lonesome embrace of a cemetery, a sad place where the deceased find everlasting rest. I developed my identity on those solemn grounds, surrounded by tombstones and the murmurs of long-gone spirits. As an orphan abandoned by my parents, the cemetery became my refuge, my haven from a world that had abandoned me.

The realisation of my link to death separated me from the commonplace, leaving me to explore the consequences of my unusual upbringing.

I made the intentional decision to leave Earth, hoping to escape the doom that seemed to be closing in on me. Unlike others, I had no desire for money or a conventional existence. Even though it was meagre, the cemetery kept me alive.

My urgent yearning to escape the grips of death was the motivating factor behind my choice to embark on this unbelievable adventure. Seeing the unavoidable fate that every human being faces, I found myself unable to accept the hard fact that all we strive for in life ultimately amounts to nothingness when we die.

Regardless of riches, prestige, or achievements, the instant of death equalises all humans. Everything eventually returns to dust in the grand scheme of things, leaving me to contemplate the actual purpose of existence. This existential quandary spurred my drive to seek something beyond the ephemeral nature of existence.

I wanted purpose and importance that transcended the brief moments we live.

The absurdity of my circumstances did not escape my notice. It was as though fate had played a cruel joke on my ambitions. Here I was, at a fork in my path, realising that in order to move on, I needed to perfect sol-weaving—a talent closely linked to my very nexus, which happened to be "death." The same thought I had been so desperately attempting to avoid had suddenly become an essential component of my journey forward.

It felt as if the world was putting my determination to the test and forcing me to face my innermost anxieties square on. When my nexus connected with mortality, how could I learn the art of controlling sol, the essence of life force? It felt like a contradiction, a harsh cosmic irony that left me feeling conflicted.

In the face of this cosmic irony, I realised I couldn’t just dismiss or ignore my death nexus. It was an inherent part of who I was, and I had to find a way to include it in my own weaving journey. As I dug more into the practice, I realised that this power may be used as a last option, an ultimate measure in times of desperate necessity, rather than as a tool of control or supremacy.

I swore to myself that I would only use the full scope of my sol-weaving powers on the most dire of occasions. It would be a safety net, a last resort after all other choices had been explored. I was aware of the risks of interfering with the delicate balance of life's energy, but I was also aware of the duty that came with this ability.