“What is that?” I curiously asked, soon to regret it.

The molten blue fires of Hell’s Deep snuffed out into tendrils of black smoke. Nuria’s fiery guts cooled and hardened to a dark char. But emerging from the lava rock was the smallest of flames. Never in the thousands of years of my existence did I ever see such a strange creature. The single white flame, small like candlelight, radiated blinding light as intense as the sun.

Small, it may be, but that tiny candle flame burned hotter than most things I felt before. Waves of scorching heat whipped the group of onlooking adventurers. They all shuffled back, grunting with hisses while shielding their faces with their arms. I looked at Nuria in a new, respectful light, as in one move, it made all of the adventurers’ weapons and metal pieces of their armor combust into white flames.

Screams and panicked shouts burst from the crazed crowd as they scrambled away, some jumping around to put out the fire consuming their clothes. To their dismay, patting themselves down only transferred the undying white fire onto other parts of their body. Only after sprinting a good distance away did the flames on their belongings go out. But everything within the vicinity caught fire—even the ground. It rippled in a pure white fire.

Strangely, I did not burn. Gael’s bag, however, did, along with his anvil, and hammer—pretty much anything metal and inanimate.

What an odd fire… it burns metals, but why not me?

And then the strangest of things occurred. A miracle!

What’s this? What is going on with my body?!

I trembled from tip to pommel, something my body had never done before. Even Gael glanced down at me with widened eyes. Shocking, I know. I moved on my own! Albeit, not of my own intention. But I felt it! My body trembled by itself!

Movement was supposed to be inherently natural to me. I was supposed to be able to soar through the air and cut the winds. Speaking was also to be natural to me, as it was with all my siblings. Even if I could not speak, if I could have at least moved, Father would not have discarded me. But those ‘ifs’ were now useless things—unchangeable things of the past.

However, why was I only starting to move now? Why in the presence of the white fire? What was Nuria?

Like a baby unable to control its body, I sensed the movement but could not make my body yield. But the feeling alone lifted a heavy burden off of me. I was not useless as Father cursed. I was not just a dead sword. I was the greatest being to exist—a magical weapon on par with a god! The second part is yet to be seen, but still! My destiny is just waiting to happen! I know it!

“Oh, Nuria! I could kiss you!”

I could not tell if the blade of my body quivered in fear of melting, or if it vibrated in resonance. The latter, I presumed, because I did not fear even a dragon’s breath. With all the odd jobs I’ve done through the years, I can say with certainty that the white fire burned even hotter than dragon’s fire. But only Origin Fire could melt the bonds of Cosmic Nether binding the infused alloys of my body. Not that I was looking to be smelted.

Yet, even if I would melt, I’d still kiss Nuria.

But on second thought, maybe not…

Dotted with its smiling slime face on the small white flame, Nuria eyed me like a hungry wolf. The strange creature was determined to melt my body. I honestly did not know what Nuria was. What if it was comparable to Origin Fire? I gulped, uncertain if I could resist Nuria, who was ready to consume me.

“Wait, Gael,” I quickly said as Gael lowered me to the monster waiting to devour me. “Hold on. Let’s think this through, yeah?”

Obviously, no response.

“Time out, my guy! Wait! Pause! Stop! Nooooo!!!”

“Priiiii!”

Nuria, the white fire monster, touched the blade of my body and I heard a loud snap.

“Oh, Great Spirit! Help me!” I called out to divinity in a moment of despair. “It’s eating me! Nuria is eating me! Breaking me piece by piece!”

I closed out the world, shutting my vision while waiting for my demise. Never would have I thought to die this way. More deafening cracks reverberated into the surroundings. Nuria munched on me, chewing with mouthfuls of crunching.

Yet, oddly, I did not feel anything. No piercing pain, nor any liquifying of my metal flesh. Which should not be the case if Nuria was eating me into a dead, smelted pool of metal.

I peeked a glance, and I saw the cute white flame binging on something. But it definitely was not me. Luckily, even while touching the white fire, my body did not break or melt either.

Phew. I breathed out in relief.

I was not at all worried… Not at all. I knew my body was amazing. Only the Flames of Origin could smelt me down, which it seems Nuria was not.

But then what was Nuria? And more importantly, what was the thing that Nuria was gobbling down? It was translucent, and I only saw it now that Nuria somehow pulled it out of me. The little flame happily chewed on some opaque and translucent thingy, chain-like entrails of sorts, squirming and rattling in fear as it came out from the blade of my body.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“What the heck is that? A parasite?!”

I’ve lived too long and seen many things—one of them being parasites coming out from my once-upon-a-time Orc owner. That was a story in itself. Maybe another time. But seeing something similar getting pulled out of me shocked me to the core.

Do magical swords get parasites? Isn’t that an organic creature problem?

The world was full of strange existences. But I was not entirely certain I could even call the thing being eaten a truly living being. Maybe a spirit of sorts? It was definitely more ethereal than physically stable, and more chain than parasite entrails. But it definitely had a purpose.

“A divine seal? And how did Nuria find it?” Gael whispered, almost unconvinced. Looking at my pristine body, gleaming from a thorough cleanse, Gael now realized my greatness. “But why was this sword sealed?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Immediately, Gael gasped, dropping me flat on the white flame as if I were a suddenly talking sword.

I clanked on the ground while Nuria groaned under my weight. “Puuuuu…”

“Owww… that was rude!” I complained, groggily lifting myself up from the dirt and small pebbles, hovering a bit off the earth.

Instantly, Gael’s eyes widened, and he quickly snagged my pommel floating in the air. Yanking my hilt close to his face, the caped weirdo whispered, “Don’t move or say another word.”

“What? Why- Wait. You can hear me?”

“Shush! Not another word, sword! We have comp-“

Gael said something else, but his words slipped straight through my mind. I was still processing the unbelievable moment happening after years of falling upon deaf ears. But what were these new sensations I felt!? The pointy tip of my body bobbed up and down as if I was wiggling my toes. I froze, astonished by the new feeling. I tried it again…

“Oh, Great Spirit! I can move! Gael, I can-!”

I then knew why the frantic Gael told me to stop speaking.

“Gaee-eeeel,” flirtatiously called out a voluptuous woman in a dark suit of smooth, ebony armor.

The woman strutted over with bad intentions, parting the crowd of adventurers while leading her entourage. Her steps confidently landed one foot in front of the other, accentuating her curves.

As she approached, I sensed something strangely familiar about the crafted piece of armor she donned. The lady aside, the armor was unique, hugging the lady’s curves too fittingly. It was as if the armor conformed exactly to the lady’s figure and adjusted for her every movement. A sense of familiarity tingled in the back of my mind. I knew this armor. Oddly, it too, did not catch fire. I was certain we were related—distantly, of course, seeing how we were of different classes.

The brunette with full lips and gleaming blue eyes stopped mere feet in front of Gael. She cared not about the peddler but eyed me and the white flickering flame with greed. Nefarious intentions hid behind the alluring voice that spoke, “Hmmm… Who are you speaking to, Gael?”

“Nuria, that’s who,” Gael instantly replied to the lady, untruthfully dodging the question. Slyly, he slowly drew me to his side, trying to not draw attention to me. “You dropping by to finally sell me that talking armor of yours, Iza?”

“Wannabe peasant!” Shouted an all-to-familiar voice, echoing deep from the depths of the metal clinging to the lady’s figure. The talking armor confirmed my suspicions, he was a cousin of mine - Sable. “You dare speak such blasphemous words?!”

“Now, now, Sable. Never would I sell you, my darling,” she said, patting the shoulder plates of the armor. The lady then looked at Gael with disdain and scoffed, “Now what might someone who doesn’t even dare enter a dungeon possibly want with my dear Sable?”

“It wouldn’t exactly fit a guy like me, Iza, even if I wanted to wear it for protection,” Gael said, eyes directed at the curves of the ebony armor. However, Gael’s eyes which were flashing with greed told me his true intentions. “I just wanted to see how an artifact from the lost ages ticks. Maybe I can recreate it.”

The lady and her party of high-ranking adventurers burst into laughter. “Haha! Good one, Gael. Your comment is so ridiculous, it’s funny. Recreating artifacts from the Golden Era? What a pipe dream.”

“Who knows,” Gael said with a shrug. “Dreams may come true.”

Her group laughed even harder.

“Hahahaha! Oh, poor Gael. Unlikely. Impossible even. Choosing to be an Artificer is not a viable path in the current age that lacks resources. Everyone knows the only creators of Artifacts these days are the Dungeons,” the lady said, glancing at Nuria who flickered with groans. “Hmmm… Smooshed your little pet there, Gael.” Then looking at the blade of my shimmering body, she asked, “Did you just burn down the road to clean that sword? Where did you find it? Must be a good sword if it didn’t melt under those flames.”

“Bought it off an old man on the streetside of the bazaar,” Gael truthfully said, then mixing in lies. He definitely lied about the next part. I was nothing of the sort. “The thing was as rusted as a log overgrown by mushrooms. It may look shiny on the surface, but the years of uncare have deteriorated its integrity. The thing is brittle. I was planning to show everyone how I would reforge it.”

“Ah, your little demonstrations. They are very convincing, I admit. Even I was convinced and had you repair a dagger of mine.” The lady then paused as if waiting for the perfect moment. “Oh, wait! You didn’t repair it, but broke it instead, right? How about you give me that sword, and I’ll call it even?”

Gael now laughed, “Hahah! Now you’re the one being funny, Iza. Why tell a made-up story? Everyone saw that dagger I repaired for you. I even infused an added fire bonus. You snagged it away, saying you did not ask for the additions and did not pay. Remember?”

Murmurs buzzed in the crowd as the other group of adventurers glanced and talked behind Iza’s back.

“I remember no such thing except for you breaking my dagger.”

“A whole one that you took back without paying?”

“Are you selling the stupid sword, or not?”

“Changing topics? Fine. No. It’s not for sale.”

“That’s all you had to say,” the lady said with a smile. But moving close to Gael’s ears, Iza whispered, “I’ll remember our friendly interaction today, Gael. Best not to meet me in the dungeons. Oh! Thanks again for the free additions to my dagger.”

Shoving Gael aside, the lady clanked on as her armor snorted. The crowd dispersed a path for the party of five as they trotted down the dirt path splitting the Dwelf Plains to the mouth of the Stygian Dungeon.

One problem left, but many others surrounded Gael.

“Ya bastard! Yer fire creature burned ma stuff!”