I uttered a string of curse words, and paced around the room trying to figure out what to do next. This sword couldn’t be the Edge of Nothing. That’s crazy. It’s too valuable. She’d give it to somebody important, like Captain Wen.

I looked at it. Its black coloring seemed to drink in the light from the window. The rubies refracted light in a way that darn near stunned me. I touched it. It felt cold, like lamp-post in January cold.

Well, I had to know either way. I grabbed its hilt. A thrill of power shivered up my arm. That was bad.

I fished out my slate and looked at my inventory. It said—

‘Edge of Nothing +5 Improved spellcasting focus. This sword is forged from hammered—’

I dropped it on the bed.

What was I going to do? I couldn’t go into combat with this thing. This was a clear sign of Sofia’s favor, and a clear weapon of the enemy. As powerful as it was, what would I be saying to Bernadette, to Rachel, to wield this thing in front of them?

Would I be jeopardizing my relationship with Caleb?

No, I couldn't use this. I couldn’t even look at it any longer. The more I learned about it the more I could be seduced into using it. I tossed a pillow over it. The hilt stuck out from — I tossed a second pillow. Then a blanket.

There came a knock at the door.

I cursed.

My feet scrambled to put me between whoever it was and this cursed thing.

I opened the door just a crack. Braelyn stood outside, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“I was just working out,” I said.

“Right. Of course. I am to escort you to the royal armory,” she said.

“Right now?” I asked.

“You think you can refuse the king?”

“No. But I need to take care of something real quick.”

“As long as it’s quick. I will take care of another task and be back to retrieve you. Can you be ready in ten minutes?”

“Won’t even need that long,” I said.

She screwed her face up to show her displeasure, then turned on a heel and left.

Great. Now she thought I was more of a weirdo than I already was.

What do I do with this damn thing? Do I toss it into a moat?

And what? Give a random peasant an evil sword?

Should I bury it?

What if I was given the choice to use that evil sword or someone I cared about got hurt? What if I really needed it? I’d be an idiot to bury it.

So what do I do? Leave it here?

Then I realized that I had the perfect solution.

My weapon sympathy ability. I could stuff it in a pocket dimension and pull it out any time I needed. And if I never needed it, nobody would ever know I had it.

I spent the next five minutes reading and re-reading the full ability tool-tip for weapon sympathy. I had to get this right.

I then spent the next ten minutes getting the magic ritual down. I had to touch the runes as they glowed at the right moment and in the right order, then touch the sword, then, just, a bunch of other really boring stuff. My Mageknight class was an intelligence caster. My 13 intelligence meant I was allowed to take it, but that didn’t mean I was great at it.

The sword winked away and I was finally rid of it. In the passphrase box on my slate I typed in the phrase “forgive me for what I must do.”

Look, I get it’s a little melodramatic, but it’s also not something I’d ever say out loud accidentally.

There came a knock on the door. Cool. Great.

I walked over, and opened it.

Braelyn was there again, with Bernie and Rachel. I smiled at them and entered the hall.

The elven woman walked fast, and Rachel and I struggled to keep up without jogging. Bernadette jogged.

“Hey,” I said, slowing to walk next to Bernie. “How is it going?”

“Fine,” she said.

“So, you want to go out sometime?” I asked.

Bernie stopped in her tracks. Rachel did too. Braelyn typed in her slate.

“Do I want to go out?” she asked, eyebrows raised as high as they could go. “Go out where? When?”

“Uh. Probably somewhere in the city? Tomorrow?”

I feel like I had messed up somewhere, and wasn’t sure how.

“The grand opening of the King’s Opera House is in three days, there is absolutely going to be an assassination attempt, and I don’t even know on whom. I barely have time to eat. I can’t just ‘go out with you.’”

“Oh.”

“There’s a nice place probably fifteen minutes from the castle,” Rachel offered.

“I could procure the king’s carriage to and from it,” Braelyn offered. “Shave that down to five minutes. Frinella’s Tavern?” she directed to Rachel.

“Yeah!” Rachel answered. “That’s the place! Wonderful seafood.”

“Oh it’s delightful,” Braelyn agreed.

Bernie just looked from me to Rachel, then back again.

“Oh, so I’m crazy for trying to make sure we aren’t all stabbed in our sleep.”

“I’m not saying that,” I offered. “And you don’t have to.”

I started walking again. This was a bad idea. I’d messed everything up.

“No,” She grabbed my hand. “Just wait. Maybe I can make this work.”

I gave her what I hoped was a winning smile.

“Ugh. What is that face?” She asked.

“Anticipation?”

Stolen story; please report.

“You really want to go out with me? Now? Why?”

“Uh. I mean. Why not?”

I looked to Rachel. She shook her head in disappointment. Braelyn had her head in the palm of her hand, rubbing the space between her eyes.

I hadn’t thought this through.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, and walked off.

I sped after her.

“Hey. I know I’m impulsive, and I don’t always do the right thing. And I can be an idiot. But I really like you.”

“Yeah, I said I’d think about it.”

Rachel gave me the ‘cut it out’ motion by chopping across her throat. I felt like maybe I could salvage this.

I took her hand.

“I’m useless at these kinds of things. But I want to do right by you. And I think you could maybe enjoy it.”

Bernadette’s brown eyes searched mine. Somehow she looked better than ever. Having good food, and a place to sleep had done wonders for our health.

“I think that a date would be nice,” she said. “But I really am trying to keep us all alive.”

“What if I helped you find the spy?”

“You help me find the spy, and I’m yours. For a date. I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Great!” I said. “Let’s go get a new sword.”

We walked down the hall.

The first checkpoint was at the stairs up. These guards seemed freshly rotated, and took their job seriously. Braelyn showed them an official written order to visit the armory, and we were on our way.

More stairs. I hated stairs. Why did they have to put the armory at the top of a tower?

The second checkpoint was a set of guards that sat at a simple wooden table playing cards. Cal was there too, playing cards, but as he wasn’t one of the Prophesied Heroes, he must have just been here to be nosey. They all stood at attention as soon as we arrived.

Seeing that simple table I was struck at how a lot of the furnishings at the castle seemed fairly new, and simple. Good craftsmanship of course, but free of the kind of fancy gold or silver embellishments I would expect of someone with vast wealth.

I figured maybe that was just how Caleb was. Had he sold off the previous king’s furniture, and had cheaper ones made? Speaking of, the tapestries on the wall were only of Caleb, his deeds and his family.

I put this information in my head away for now.

After Braelyn showed the letter with the official seal of the king, the guards raised a large steel and wood grate from the door with a massive iron key. Then they opened the sturdy oak door behind it with a small brass key.

Inside was a large semi-hemispherical room with thin arrow slits allowing light, and dark shapes all about. Braelyn waved her arm and the chandelier lit and light flooded the room, shining off weapons and armor. Revealed were also many empty armor racks and pedestals. Several of the weapons here were clearly sized for giants. There were also chests along the back wall that had who knew what.

My pulse quickened. I felt somewhat like I felt when walking into a toy store at the mall, back when I was young enough to be excited about such things. My mom was always pretty strict about our spending, but when I was with my dad I always left with something.

Bernie and I both found ourselves in front of a short cavalry saber with blue jewels embedded in the hilt in the shape of a snowflake, that hung on a wooden plaque reading ‘icetooth.’ I smiled at her. She couldn’t reach it, so I got it down and handed it to her. She pulled out her slate to check the stats and I moved on.

The next weapon I found was a shortbow called ‘provoker.’ It had the head of a goose engraved on the top and bottom of the limbs. I fished out my slate.

Provoker +2. This shortbow was made for the daughter of the Elven King, and is deceptively strong, hitting for twice its draw weight. Additionally, arrows fired from this bow chase previously struck targets. Even around corners.

Yeah, this seemed made for me, and my 10 dexterity. If I read it right, I’d only need to hit once and subsequent arrows would keep hitting them. What a nasty weapon. I think I was in love.

Wait, ‘daughter of the Elven King,’ was this the queen’s bow? I put it back.

“Braelyn?”

“Yes?”

“How many weapons are we allowed to take?”

“You are allowed two items. They may be weapons, armor, or anything else as long as it is two.”

“Thanks.”

I needed a sword too, so I wasn’t tempted to use the one I just got. Luckily, Rachel approached me with a sword in her hands.

“Check this out,” she said, offering her slate. I took this opportunity to scope out her stats first.

Oriana the level 9 Starbound Barbarian.

HP 92, AC 17 (unarmored)

STR 19 (+4)* DEX 16 (+3) CON 18 (+4)

INT 10 (+0) WIS 12 (+1) CHA 9 (-1)

Items: Belt of Ogre Strength (sets strength at 19)*, Gloves of the Pugilist (double damage from unarmed strikes and improvised weapons), Necklace of Second Chance (grants Fighter’s second chance feature)

Abilities: Rage (twice per day, halves all damage received, increases own damage by 25%, grants a 50% boost to athletics skills), unarmored defense (grants a boost to defense equal to constitution and dexterity bonus, and increases movement speed by 50%), Against Destiny (rage uses per day may reset when attempting to thwart fate, uses of rage gained in this way are doubled in potency). Shimmering Movement (instantly appear anywhere within 120ft of you, once per use of rage).

Skills: Athletics, Insight, Sleight of Hand, Social Drinking

Shimmering movement seemed scary. Teleporting barbarians sounded like a nightmare to have to fight. Good thing she was on our side.

The tooltip on the sword said:

Fascinator +2: this weapon was made for a bard that wasn’t quite as charming as he’d like to be. Improves spellcasting. Provides a free casting of the spells command and charm. When not in use, it can be shrunk to the size of a broach.

“It’s decent,” I said. “But despite the boost to my spellcasting score, I don’t really need the spells. Bernie has charm and I have command. I was hoping to find something that improved my healing.”

Rachel frowned and took her slate back. Braelyn piped up.

“This may be more to your liking,” she said, directing me to a sword with a hilt shaped like angel wings. This one wasn’t hanging on the wall. It was in the outstretched arm of a statue — a very naked statue of Caleb.

I was hoping for a fig leaf, but there was no such censorship to be found.

At the look on my face, Braelyn said, “yes, that seems to be most people’s reception to this statue. The queen had it made as an anniversary gift. The king thought it best he kept it here.”

“How did they know what—” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“The queen made extensive life-drawing sketches for the sculptor’s benefit.”

“That answers that question,” I said. My mind was struck of things to say for the moment. Rachel piped up.

“That’s kind of erotic,” she said. “There must be real passion in the relationship. I figured it was a political thing.”

Braelyn’s lips quirked into a smile.

“One doesn’t start a war with one’s own father for ‘politics.’ My sister, for all her faults, loves Caleb like no other.”

“That’s nice,” I said.

“Well,” Braelyn replied. “I sometimes wish things had gone differently.”

“Caleb cool with you talking like that?”

“He couldn’t stop me,” she said with a smile. “And he often prefers I speak my mind anyway.”

She twirled a finger, and a spectral hand fetched the winged sword. It floated to me, and I took it.

The handle was wrapped in bronze wire, and felt solid in my hand. The pommel was marble threaded with gold. The crossguard was of the same material, but shaped to be like wings. A single pink ruby was set on either side of the crossguard. The blade itself was a little short, less than three feet, but it shined with a bronze color.

Were this thing actually made of marble and bronze it would be far too soft to be an effective weapon, so it must be packed with all kinds of magic. I swiped open my slate.

Redeemer +3. Forged by a hero of ages past to avenge her fallen lover, this sword has seen dragons, and giants succumb to its razor sharp edge. What it lacks in martial might, it makes up for in staggering utility. Can be used as an improved spellcasting focus. Grants a free use of the spells levitate, and bless. Further, while wielding this weapon, each use of a healing spell in the course of a single day is doubled in its potency from the use before it.

‘Doubled in potency,’ sounded amazing. I wondered if it was cumulative. It had to be, right? And it would boost my spellcasting, make spells like ‘sleep’ land easier.

“Where did he get this?” I asked.

“A gift from Uchechi on acceptance of his intent to marry Mia.”

“And I can have it?”

“Only on the condition that it be returned to the vault once it is not needed.”

I took Redeemer, of course. It wasn’t as powerful as the one I’d hid, but was probably more useful for my skill set, all things considered. I also took Provoker.

Bernie took Fascinator, and shoes that helped her run faster. Rachel found a bag that was larger on the inside — which was super helpful for the party overall — and magic bracers that increased her armor class.

With our swanky new magic items in tow, we left the armory.