Nuria waved its tiny arms in the air as it bobbed excitedly on top of Gael’s head. Freaked out, I backed into a corner of the room, hovering on guard above Gael’s bed.

Wafts of noxious blue-green smoke sizzled from my body as remnants of a viscous black goo evaporated in the air. While inspecting me earlier, Gael pulled out a concoction from his bag, one he said was supposed to ‘polish’ off the layer of residue after being roasted by Nuria.

Polish? More like trying to melt me!

Gael, however, restlessly paced back and forth from wall to wall in his rented room.

“How can this be??? How can it function without a form of energy source? How did Master Groland fuse mythical metals with opposing qualities into stable billets to forge weld? It was as if the great Master melded all the original elements of creation into one sword. How is that even possible?!”

Gael immediately halted, and he jerked in my direction as I floated above his bed. His piercing yellow eyes looked like they wanted to dissect me at this very moment.

“Hey! I’m warning you! Don’t look at me like that. Whatever you’re trying to do, don’t even think about it. Even dragon’s fire can’t melt me.”

“Che.” Gael clicked his tongue. “Not even dragon’s fire? Maybe if Nuria can evolve to its next form, I can try-“

“Nope. Don’t even. I’ll run away!”

“Damn it! Why did I tell you!?”

Although Gael’s iffy inspection of my blade opened more questions, he did find out a few interesting points. The most important being that unlike my siblings, I did not need to be bound to an owner to collect mana in order to function. I was like the fleshy ones! I had my own mana source! Where, no one knew. I didn’t exactly have a heart or any jewels. But who cares?!

Finally! No more odd jobs! I’ll just run away!

“So no funny business, got it?” I said, inching towards the closed drapes covering the window.

Hands up, Gael repeated, “I got it! I got it! So don’t run away! I promise not to melt you down! I promise!”

“Really?” I asked with skepticism, stopping as my round pommel pushed the drapes and tapped the glass window. It was nice being wanted for a change. But by no means did I want to be smelted down. I’d probably die, I think? I needed more insurance from Gael. “Oh, ho, ho. After what you did? You tried, remember? You stuck me into Nuria’s white fire. You tried to reforge me! Murder!”

“A misunderstanding! I didn’t know you were a supreme talking sword before!”

Supreme? My hearing perked up. I liked the sound of being called supreme so I kept listening. “Ok… I’m listening. What else about me?”

“Actually, didn’t it turn out for the better? It’s likely because of Nuria’s flames you can even talk and fly around right now.”

I looked at the happy, jiggling ball of red fire on Gael’s head. Cute, but what a tiny, little devil.

“…Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”

“Right!? Nuria ate the divine seal, remember? Maybe she’s the key. I think your true self is not entirely unlocked either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can I show you?”

I hesitated.

“No funny business,” Gael said while raising his right hand higher in the air. “I swear.”

“What do you want to do?” I cautiously asked.

“It’s actually on the now revealed blade of your body. If you want, I can point to it from here.”

Gael stood in the middle of the small room, a few steps away from the twin-sized bed below me and the window.

“Alright. But I’m watching you. I’m not afraid of busting out of here. I’m warning you.”

Gael fervently bobbed his head up and down, nearly flapping off his black hood.

“Point,” I commanded, “from there.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Funny how the tables have turned. Previously, I tried to persuade the vigilant Gael, but now he was the one trying to convince me.

“There,” Gael said, pointing his right index finger at me, “Above your handle guard. See the darker portions of the complex crisscrossing mosaic pattern extending all the way to the tip of your blade?”

I took a closer examination of myself. Gael was right. A forged art piece composed of a grand starry cosmos was ingrained in the fibers of my body. For so long, my body was caked in grime, and I forgot how beautiful I actually looked.

I couldn’t help but compliment myself. Aren’t I, like, really amazing?

But Gael was right. Something was different about the pattern. I was already breathtaking as it was before, but now? It was as if a small portion of the interconnected mosaic pulsed alive. Like stars awakening and flickering in the risen night sky. But wasn’t I already alive?

Confused, I asked Gael, “Why is part of my body glowing as if it just came back to life? It’s never done that before. Is my body separate from my consciousness? How does that work?”

Gael shook his head. “I’m not sure. If I had the skill and knowledge, I’d have already made my own talking sword. But seeing how your body has dark parts that are yet to glow, I surmise you have yet to fully awaken.”

“Not fully awakened? So what did I awaken? What can I do? What’s my power?”

“Well, from what I can tell, the parts of the mosaic that shine are actually from the infused Vulcrum Ore, also known as the Stones of Vanishing Void. It’s probably the most commonly found of the mythical ores, which is an overstatement, as Vulcrum Ore is still rarely seen. But the stones appear and disappear at random. You’ll never know when you may suddenly run across the elusive metal.”

“So Feinstein didn’t just make it up, afterall… Voidcutter, the name he once gave me does have merit.”

“Huh? Feinstein…” Gael pondered with a frown, yellow eyes squinting as if pulling a fleeting memory. “Feinstein? Why does that sound familiar?”

“It should,” I told Gael. “General Euliad Feinstein was ironically the discriminated, mix-blooded human-elf, who led the Alliance to victory over the Demoids and the sudden invasion from the Cold Ones.”

“The Great War… General Feinstein… Voidcutter—the blade that was never drawn but always by the General’s side. Rumors said he drew powers of the void from the sword to obliterate his enemies.” Gael's eyes glued onto my form. “There may be truth to the rumors then.”

I wanted to shrug. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t sense anything from my body at that time.”

“You wouldn’t have, since the elements in your body still slumbered.”

I felt a big grin coming on. “Buuuuut… Now my powers are awakened! I can manipulate space and cut the void like that nimble buff guy, Euliad! Shall I test it?” I said, pointing at Gael.

“Absolutely not!” Gael exclaimed, waving his hands back and forth in front of him. “Not here! You’ll ruin Patty and Harold’s inn!”

“Hmmm… True. Patty did seem like a nice fleshy lady. A plump one. Do they have unwanted competition? I can eliminate them and send them to the void.”

“NO! Don’t you dare!”

“I jest, I jest. Loosen up, Gael. I cut foes, not friendlies. But I do need to test and see how my ability works. Find me a place, New Owner, or I will.”

Gael quickly turned left and right, probably looking past the walls of the room, and was thinking of a better place in case I got bored. I was trigger-ready.

“The Ghostly Plains! The grasslands beyond the western half of Dwelf City. It’s a desolate area where only plants live. And supposedly the lingering spirits of warriors buried in the once bloody battlefield. You can test yourself there.”

“The Ghostly Plains? Near the Stygian Dungeon? Which reminds me, do you ever plan on entering the Dungeons?”

“Never!” Gael shouted in an almost growl. “Those monsters… Why in the world would I ever go down those hellholes?!”

I was most confused by Gael’s reluctance. Especially since some older Dungeons harbored what he needed the most. Those monsters had something gold and silver couldn’t buy.

“Well, because you can find the mythical elusive ores you speak of. You want to be an Artificer, right? Techniques aside, you’ll need nearly extinct ingredients to experiment on in order to craft better items. Dungeons sometimes manifest them. Especially if it knows the bait can draw more prey.”

Gritting his teeth, Gael hissed, “I hate Dungeons. I never want to step foot inside them. They took everything away from me and my brother.”

I started to get a better picture of Gael. Seems like he was an unfortunate victim of the repercussions of war and the subsequent birth of the psycho Dungeons.

Although I couldn’t exactly relate, I knew how it felt to lose everything. Not all of my previous owners were bad. I lost some good ones. Caspian, Natasha, Don Don, Minks, Euliad… Silkie. I miss you guys. I really, fucking miss you guys.

Losing them hurts—still to this day. Suffering was a consequence of long life.

“It is unfortunate for the terrible events that have happened, Gael. But you can’t help what has already come to pass. However, you can take action now to shape the future. Why not take some back of your losses by taking advantage of the Dungeons? Use them to become a great Artificer and then destroy them by taking their cores.”

Gael did not immediately respond. He seemed to ruminate over my suggestion. Frowning, his head occasionally turned side to side, as if he fought himself. Suddenly, Gael took out the anvil from his bag and placed it on the floor with a thunk.

After breathing out the ending of the heavy turmoil warring inside of him, Gael walked towards the door.

Grabbing the doorknob knob, Gael spoke with firm determination in his voice, “I need to talk with my brother. Stay here with Nuria until I return.”

Nuria jumped off and bounced on the anvil.

“You’re in charge, Nuria. Keep an eye on the sword and don’t burn anything. Shout if you need me.”

“Pi, pi, pu!” Nuria said with a salute.

I groaned as the door clicked and locked shut. “What the hell just happened?”

“Ri, ri, pu!” Nuria said with a commanding tone with its two hands held at its waist.

I turned and glanced around the furnished room. Did Gael just lock me inside as a prisoner and to be babysat by the dinky fireball?