[ Oliver POV ]

I look at the back of Mr. Avarit as he walks out of my office. Unable to look away from him without something to draw my attention away like a subconscious voice telling me to look at him, that he is interesting. After he left the room I looked at the different things he sold me, they feel less interesting now. I checked them with my ability again and found that whatever he did, did not affect my ability and that everything is of the same value. I look at Sydney, who was shivering slightly and holding her head in hand. I ask her what was wrong.

“ That man is not fully human, when I tried to control him my ability was getting diverted by something, so I stopped probing after not finding any hostile intention from him. Another thing I did not say was that it was not me who was making the rat claw away those vines it was the rat itself. The poison, hex or curse whatever that dagger secretes, does not just take blood but also vitality, it caused a primal fear in the rat so great that it overwrote my ability-infused commands.

I even feel a slight consciousness in that dagger. It was not there when I first came into this room, but after that flower bloomed I started feeling a slight consciousness in the flower. Then when the flower wilted it transferred to the dagger. As I do not feel connections in plant-based creatures even if they are intelligent like dryads, I was curious. I tried to look into its mind and what I felt could not be described into words. I felt unending hunger, thirst, want to propagate and even more foreign concepts. Trying to control is a faraway thought, just remembering those thoughts sends shivers down my spine.” She says sitting on the floor almost sobbing.

I look at the dagger in slight horror. Sydney has worked for me for many years. This is the second time she has broken down like this. The first was when she tried to control an aberrant shadow wolf pup that was refusing to open its eyes yet was moving around fine, later it was found out that the pup was a void touched and was put down. So seeing her react to a dagger that had been just crafted and killed a single creature the same way as a void touched being, I was shocked.

I tell Taylor to put that dagger on the floor and disconnect his aetheric tether with it. Taylor does so immediately and steps back. I activate a spatial isolation array on that dagger. I tell Taylor to swiftly get our item inspector, Mr Joerge here. He runs at a remarkable speed out of the door.

After a couple of minutes, he comes in through my office door at full speed while carrying a middle-aged man, who has an unremarkable face, slightly messy brown hair and pitch-black eyes like black holes. He seems a little disgruntled at being princess-carrying, but when he sees that a spatial isolation field is active he gets serious. I quickly tell what I heard from Sydney and tell her to go home early.

Mr Joerge asks me to cancel the spatial isolation array to look at the dagger. I oblige to his request. He steps closer to the dagger and looks at it with a distant gaze. He says with a voice which seems to come from nowhere yet echoes everywhere,

“In the human keep, where hearts beat,

Blood Bloom stirs, begins its dark deed.

Wooden dagger, unspoken lore,

With thorns that thirst for crimson gore.

In blood-filled rites, it claims its prize,

From trembling souls, a sacrifice.

Each drop it drinks, each life consumed,

Flesh and blood entwined in bloom.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Beware the blade, its hunger keen,

For in its wake, a crimson sheen.

Blood Bloom, a rose of blood and despair,

In its embrace, most find mercy rare.”

After saying those words he looks away from the dagger. He asks, “ So that was one of the creepy ones, where did you get this one? It is something because I only get those for something with a great tale behind it or it’s created from something exceptional or by someone exceptional. From those words, it doesn’t feel like a great tale.” I then tell him about Mr Anavrit, after hearing that he asks to look at the ingredients to make this dagger. I show the tray with the leftover materials. He looks at each of them, when he looks at the spriggan wood he scrunches his face and says, “ I think I know why that dagger is suddenly coming alive or undead I should say because he used wood from a blight spriggan with the necromantic attunement. You gave him this just to show his skills?” I look at Taylor perplexed and he answers that he picked those from the latest shipment of bone-attuned spriggan wood.

Mr Joerge then continues, “ But just that does not give it that kind of description from my ability. You said that he gave you some other items. Show me those.” I much agreed to his requests. He systematically goes through everything but the last three items that were sold me and finds everything normal and as Mr Anavrit described. But as he uses his ability on the ‘ Cloak of Wilds’ he stops and says in a cryptic voice,

“From shadows deep, where whispers sigh,

A cloak of twilight, born to fly.

Threads of longing, woven fine,

By defiled hands, once intertwined.

Lost from the wilds, a child forlorn,

Yearning for what the woods adorn.

In mimicry of nature’s grace,

The cloak takes shape, in sacred space.

Yet beneath its folds, a darker hue,

Echoes of the past, in Twilight’s brew.

A longing deep, a yearning vast,

In the embrace of shadows, it holds fast.

Oh, cloak of secrets, veiled and sly,

Bearer of dreams that fade and die.

In the defiled child’s silent plea,

A fleeting glimpse of what used to be.”

He looks at the cloak in renewed intrigue. He then quickly looks at the ordinary-looking seashell and starts saying,

“ From the depths of sorrow, a shell did form,

Wishes whispered, memories warm.

In the heart of a child, defiled by man,

A melody born, both gentle and grand.

With each gentle breeze, it sings its song,

A lullaby sweet, serene and strong.

In the embrace of its soothing tune,

Dreams take flight, under the moon.

But beneath its shimmer, secrets hide,

Echoes of love, now lost, denied.

In the seashell’s sigh, a gentle plea,

To find solace in the depths of the sea.”

As we hear these cryptic poems about these items I wish I could ask their creator for the stories behind them. Before I could get too lost in my thoughts Mr Joerge asks for the masterpiece of Mr Anavrit. I oblige to his request, takeing it out of my vault and hand him the ‘ Seed of Prismatic Aether’, he stills and in the creepy voice he again says,

“From the cradle of nature’s lost child, a seed unfurls,

A crystal prism, where destiny swirls.

Infinite paths, in its radiant hue,

A canvas of wonders, awaiting the true.

Guardians of nature, with wisdom to impart,

Their essence imbued in every part.

The child once pure and bright, now stained and defiled,

Yet within, hope is silently beguiled.

Through whispered touch, a world takes shape,

As souls entwine, and destinies drape.

In the glow of the seed, a prophecy foretold,

Of boundless potential, yet to unfold.

But shadows linger, in its fractured gleam,

Echoes of guardians, in a silent dream.

Their legacy woven, in each growing vine,

In the heart of the seed, their sorrow and blessings entwined.”

As I hear the tale of this seed I truly think about who or what Mr Anavrit truly is.