Drenar doesn't question Joey as she slams her ID badge on the reader and throws the doors open to the archives. "Drenar, have any other powers manifested since you started using that dagger?" she asks while pushing past row after row of books, and strange devices hidden behind glass cases.

"I have no idea. It pierces shielding, and it carves through mage steel inserts on Talon's body armor like its butter. I cut up some guys pretty badly doing that." She's still moving at a rapid pace, and they keep pace with her. "Joey, is this a really good use of our time, where are we going?”

"Drenar, what I’m looking for could be more important than Volkir’s journals." She takes a left then deeper into the room, and grabs a journal that's still sitting on a table. "Crosomer's academic journals, from earlier. I don't know which ones are super useful yet, but I'm taking all of them, because they might be useful later if we survive this." She grabs one, then two others, and stuffs them into her satchel, and hands it to Drenar. It's surprisingly light, and they shouldn't all fit in there. Is this a compressed dimensional space? He doesn't have long to ponder the idea. "There is something else here too important to leave behind. The Talons will only get it over my dead body."

"Uh, you're starting to scare me a bit Joey, details please," Angela asks firmly, and has to duck low to keep her draconic body fitting through the hallway, and she keeps her wings tucked tight. Her tail does knock a few books down, much to her annoyance. Joey looks between them, then relents before speaking at a quick pace.

"Okay, so about a year ago, a Valkyrie showed up, looking for some material analysis. Zameren punted it to me and Kyle that day, and I talked with her for a bit. She brought in a sword. But the problem is, the sword blade was missing. When we ran the analysis, we determined the blade was out of phase. You can sort of see it, but from a dimensional perspective, it's not all there. Powerful artifacts are typically created for use by a single wielder or a small circle of individuals, to prevent misuse, or to bond the weapon to a user for maximum potency. A soulbound weapon. Like Drenar's drakensoul Alex, in a way."

"Okay, but why is this so important?" Drenar asks.

"It's you two! No one I've known has ever picked up a Valkyrian weapon and it just started working. It could be a genetic link, or tied to a personality, a strength of will. This is where it starts to really break with my understanding of magic on a fundamental level. But you both can use it.”

"Joey, you can use it, too, and Julia as well! The blade didn't disappear, and the runes were still active when you held it!" Drenar pushes back. She's still navigating deeper into the archives, and he sees some objects that look sinister in nature behind thicker glass, and mage steel cages. Daggers and knives shouldn’t look so sharp that they could cut your eyeballs merely by peeking at them. "Are you sure it's not just defective, or maybe it doesn't have those kinds of protections?"

"Those possibilities seem quite narrow. There was also another oddity, she had a missing arm. She used a golem arm replacement integrated into her armor on her left arm, at the elbow." That was enough to keep Drenar listening. "And you know what else?"

"Uh…no?" She turns to face him and Angela, and she's got this dead calm composure.

"Can you still hear a crystalline ringing chord right now?" They both look at each other and slowly nod.

"I can, but it's faint. There's… another chime…higher pitch…at the extreme edge of my hearing." He doesn’t even know when it started, but it’s noticeable, now that she was calling it out. Because I was looking for it, maybe? All he does know is that it makes his veins tingle. There is something magnetic in the draw of that sound, the closer he gets to it.

Joey looks at him and Angela, eyes sweeping the room. "Both of you point to where it's coming from, same time." They both point in the same direction, just off to their right. And her eyes are alight with fascination. "Perfect. Follow me."

"Joey, what's so important about this? We have hostiles on the front door!" Angela protests. “What is in here that could be more important than the journals?!”

"Nothing happens without a reason. Cause and effect. The artifacts are calling out to wielders. There is something about these weapons and equipment that transcends normal magical nature.” For a person he’s barely known for more than three days, he’s banking it all on Joey, he realizes as she continues talking.

“The Valkyries are the closest thing in the world we have to true heroes. If I'm right, there's a reason that the crystalline note I keep hearing is getting louder.” She presses forward through twists and turns, deeper into the shelves, and there’s a bang at the bulkhead door–the Talons must have started getting to work on it. “I just realized that I've heard crystalline notes every time I walked down here, ever since Kyle and I put the sword in storage."

"Okay, so why can we hear a sound no one else can?" Drenar pushes back. "Is there something about us that’s different?"

"Drenar, do you know why you didn't hear the dagger before Friday?" Joey asks. He draws a blank–he doesn’t know what triggered it.

"No. Actually, I don't."

“Alright, short version then. The Awakening process creates a massive surge of mana generation in the body to prepare it for the initial transformation, and some of that mana crystallizes in the bones and organs.” She continues pushing forward at a hurried pace, and he realizes it aligns with what Nick and Levine had been talking about earlier. "Here’s where it starts to get strange, though. When a person is closely linked to a weapon or magical object, in some cases, people have reported auditory hallucinations, the weapon shakes in their hand, or they can feel some kind of static or current of energy when they're nearby. It's some weird resonance thing between the mana in someone's body and the mana integrated into the device. It's not quite a physical response so much as an aetherial one, if that makes sense. A resonance of the soul."

"And I thought I capped out on craziness when I started sprouting feathers and scales," he comments. "Why's a Valkyrie just ditching their weapon to collect dust?”

"I don't know. We were tasked to check the material. The Valkyrie never came back for it. And I never questioned why."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Did you catch her name?” Angela asks. Joey shakes her head

“No. She was in a full suit of armor. It’s part of their discipline training, you’ll rarely see them out of uniform. Their armor is an exceptionally compact magitech system the envy of the world. Kyle’s tried harder than anyone to replicate it, and he’s probably the closest anyone’s gotten. Something I noticed was the missing arm, and she had green eyes and maybe dark hair.” Angela doesn’t notice, but Drenar pauses–that sounds awfully familiar.

No. It couldn’t be. She’s been dead for six years. She’s gone.

"Hang on. Are we delusional? How’s a defunct magical sword going to help?" Even Drenar can't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"That ringing didn't get louder until you guys got here. Ah, here it is." She pulls open a drawer a short distance away, and pulls out a sword and scabbard. Drenar winces, that ringing tone just went up by what felt like several decibels, but it’s the most calming, comforting crystalline sound he's heard. The sound recedes just a little, and he examines the exquisite weapon. It's a broadsword of Nordic or Scandinavian design, judging by the length of the sheathed blade and the handle, and has a grip of a banded, textured leather-like material. The crosspiece is made of that slightly green metal and has runic etches traced into the orthogonal surfaces. A single hex-cut emerald rests deep within the hilt, visible on both sides, and he swears it's gleaming with an inner light.

Drenar, I know this sword. Joey and Drenar let out a sound of surprise.

"What do you mean, you know this sword?" he asks.

I held it. I wielded it. I died protecting her legacy.

This is Lyssa's sword…Luminari. This is the fabled blade of the Valkyries, an implement of Justice! More than any other moment in his life, Drenar knows this is important, even if he doesn't know why just yet.

"Hey you two, you're both freaking out now, and that's mighty scary because I have no idea what Alex is saying. We have got to set up a psychic radio for the two wayward dragons inside us to make this easier!" Angela huffs impatiently. He holds out a hand, to slow her down, because this is getting overwhelming.

"Okay, one at a time. Alex says this was Lyssa's sword, His wife. She was a Valkyrie, too. And he was able to hold it and use it. But…Alex, this was seven hundred years ago. This can't be the same one!"

Drenar, my memory is full of fragments, but this is not one of them. Now you need to pick it up right now and see if it will respond to you, or this is a wasted trip. There's an uneasiness to this simple motion. He takes the hilt and sheath from the cloth that it has been wrapped in from Joey, and she nods.

"Drenar, there's a reason you guys are here. Whether it's utter dumb luck, or these artifacts are calling out to you, or literal Fate–which I really don't subscribe to, for the record–we need every edge we can get."

"If this thing possesses me Angela, make sure you stop me before I cause lasting harm," he says uneasily before he grabs the hilt. It feels light. Far lighter than it should be, given its size and length. And there is a palpable feeling of comfort when his fingers wrap around the grip, and that crystalline sound intensifies.

Alex…I'm no hero. That job was reserved for my mother.

It's not something you're born as or born into. It's what you become when the moment calls for it. Anyone can become that person, with the right drive and strength of will. With those reassuring words, he feels the tension relax in his body. This moment might break him if nothing comes of it…but if something does…

What happens next?

He takes a slow breath and pulls the blade from the scabbard.

He feels the material catch, and the sword practically flows out of the scabbard. The silvery blade is the purest silver color he's ever seen, and the metalwork is flawless–like the blade was grown from a single crystal of metal. Runes trace the broad faces, the secrets of their intent unknown and foreign to him. The length is slightly shorter than he'd expected for a broadsword, and the flats taper to an impossibly sharp edge, and converge to a single sharp point on the end. He feels a vibration in his hand, and the blade glows slightly green.

"Uh, guys? Y'all might want to step back? Because I have no idea what is about to happen." That crystalline note is louder, almost deafening, and he can feel his hand shaking. Joey braces herself just as the gem in the hilt comes to life with an inner light. He shields his eyes with his free hand.

The world goes white, and he can't see anything. Nothing else exists but the white, and the sound of his heartbeat.

Slowly, his vision comes back. It's a less intense white. All around him. He's standing in it. There's no floor, no sky, no walls. He feels weightless, as if at the apex of a roller coaster ride, plummeting straight down.

He glances down. The sword is gone. Did I drop it? Where am I? It didn't teleport me, at least I don't think. Okay, think! If it didn't teleport me, then what am I seeing? A fugue state in my head? This doesn't feel like a dream. He tests his motions. His limbs work. He can feel his skin when he taps a finger to his nose. He looks around–up, down, everywhere. He still feels like there's a certain sense of 'up' that he normally associated with gravity.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he calls out. "Hey, I found a magic sword, and it did something weird. Please tell me this isn't me being dead for picking up the wrong magical artifact, that would seem really not cool for it having no warning label."

No response comes.

Okay, that's not working. How much time has passed? Twenty seconds, maybe. He checks down at his watch, except it's gone. Bad habit. I had to pick one day to start facing down my fear. Great. It could have been an eternity, and Asqualia could be burning wreckage by now. I've got places to be and people to protect.

He tries to step forward, but it feels like he's moved nowhere. He doesn’t even feel the floor. Is there a floor here? This place is screwing with my head. It's like staring at an infinite vanishing point but in every direction. What it feels like is a migraine that isn't going away anytime soon. "Hey, operator, I need my limitless gun rack, armor, and that sword, because Joey's going to kill me if I don't bring it back."

The deafening silence is his response. He can hear his own heartbeat if he listens closely–a calm resting state, and he lets out a soft exhale. “Well, that was worth a try. Okay, Alex, your thoughts on the matter?"

There’s no response. Drenar taps his foot and finds no resistance. He can't even use that as a stimming mechanism right now. "Alex, we're soul-bound. I could use some help figuring out where we are. Or when? Maybe we even why we are? This place is going to cause utter madness soon, I can tell."

"I sent him away. He…would have been too emotional."

Drenar turns to the source of that voice, knowing that someone else being here in this strange place, is a portent of even stranger things to come.