The Mark Of Rebirth

Kaboom!

The noise of what seemed to be an explosion reverberated through the left side of the Shadow Phoenix base, where Kaelith was wandering aimlessly, boredom etched across his face. The sound rattled the walls and sent a shockwave through the floor beneath his feet.

‘What was that?! An explosion!’

His heart raced as he spun around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. Panic surged within him, and without a second thought, Kaelith began sprinting in the direction of the noise. His loud footsteps echoed through the empty, dimly lit halls of the base, each step quickening as the sense of urgency grew.

As he rounded a corner, the corridor stretched out before him, dimly lit and lined with doors leading to who-knows-where. At the far end, he spotted two figures silhouetted against the flickering overhead lights.

‘Who could that be? If memory serves me right, the only people in the base are Tokei, Nanik, and Farthington. Oh, and that woman we rescued… It must be two of them.’

Yelling across the hallway to catch their attention, Kaelith shouted, “What happened?!”

He kept his pace steady as he approached, his eyes narrowing as the figures came into clearer view. He recognized the broad-shouldered frame of Nanik, standing tall and calm, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them. Nanik was rubbing his chin, lost in thought, his gaze fixed on something ahead. Beside him, slumped against the wall, was the maroon-haired woman they had saved earlier. Her expression was one of utter defeat, her body language conveying exhaustion and frustration.

Kaelith slowed his pace as he drew nearer, his breath heavy from the sprint. Nanik turned to meet his gaze, a casual smile playing on his lips.

“Ah, you’re here. Do you need something, Kaelith?” Nanik asked, his tone nonchalant, as if they weren’t standing in the aftermath of what looked like a bomb had gone off.

Kaelith blinked, a bit taken aback by the calmness in Nanik’s voice. “Uh, not really. I came because I heard what sounded like an explosion. What’re ya’ll up to?”

For a moment, Nanik was silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as if deep in thought. Then, as if a light bulb had flickered on in his mind, he suddenly blurted out, “Oh really? Then, could you come here for a second?”

Kaelith hesitated, his instincts urging caution. He took a few tentative steps forward, his eyes darting between Nanik's expectant gaze and the maroon-haired woman, her expression a mix of frustration and curiosity.

“Sure…” he replied, uncertainty lacing his voice. “What exactly happened here?”

With a relaxed demeanor, Nanik responded, “Ah, about that, I was simply attempting to remove this sword that got stuck in the wall, but it's been giving me some trouble.”

Kaelith's mind raced. ‘This is what he considers simple? Simple is harvesting crops from the field, not ripping swords out of walls!’

Trying to understand his role in this unexpected scenario, Kaelith asked, “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Oh, it's not that difficult,” Nanik said, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just go and try to pull that sword out of the piece of the wall.”

“What? I thought you already tried, and since you’re stronger than me, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway…” Kaelith protested, skepticism evident in his tone.

Nanik patted Kaelith on the back, his touch both encouraging and insistent. “Come on, what's the worst that could happen?”

Kaelith paused, weighing his options. The promise of 10 aero was tempting, and his curiosity was piqued. Finally, he relented, “Alright, fine. Just pay me 10 aero and I’ll do it.”

Instantly, Nanik replied, “Done. Now go on,” gesturing for Kaelith to approach the embedded sword.

Taking a deep breath, Kaelith stepped forward, each footfall echoing in the silent hallway. The sword stood before him, its blade shimmering from the hallway’s overhead lights. The chunk of concrete encasing it bore cracks from Nanik's previous attempts, but the sword remained stubbornly lodged.

He glanced back at Nanik, who watched with keen interest, and then at the woman, whose eyes followed his every move. Gathering his resolve, Kaelith wrapped his hands around the hilt. The metal felt surprisingly warm to the touch, sending a tingle up his arms.

‘Here goes nothing,’ he thought.

With a firm grip, he began to pull. At first, the sword didn't budge, resisting his efforts. He adjusted his stance, planting his feet firmly on the cracked floor, and pulled harder. A faint hum emanated from the blade, and yellow veins of light wrapped around the blade and the wall as if trying to keep them together.

Suddenly, It felt as though the sword began to suck in his mana like a voracious black hole. The yellow veins of light slowly began to dim.

The sword began to give way, inch by agonizing inch. The concrete encasing it crumbled, pieces falling to the ground. Sweat dripped down Kaelith's brow, his muscles burning from the exertion. With one final heave, accompanied by a burst of blinding yellow light, the sword broke free, sending him stumbling backward.

He landed on the floor with a thud, the sword clutched tightly in his hands. The hallway was momentarily illuminated by the residual glow, which slowly faded, leaving only the ambient lighting.

Breathing heavily, Kaelith looked at the sword, its surface now serene, the veins of light dormant.

Nanik approached, offering a hand to help him up. “Well done,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “Seems the sword chose to cooperate with you.”

The maroon-haired woman stared in disbelief, her eyes shifting between Kaelith and the sword. “How... how did you do that?” she whispered, surprise evident in her tone.

Kaelith shrugged, still trying to process what had just transpired. “I... I'm not sure. It just... happened.”

Nanik gazed at the sword with a serious expression while reaching into his pocket to produce the promised 10 aero. Handing it to Kaelith, he added, “A deal's a deal.”

Kaelith accepted the payment, still trying to process what had just transpired. He turned to hand the sword back to its rightful owner when a voice echoed in his mind, clear and commanding.

“Halt, child, lest thou commit a grave mistake in your ignorance.”

Startled, Kaelith whipped his head around, his eyes darting between Nanik and the maroon-haired woman. Neither of them had spoken, and both looked at him with puzzled expressions.

“Huh?” he muttered, confusion growing as he searched for the source of the voice.

“Quit thine fruitless pondering, for I rest in thine hands,” the voice continued, its tone resonant and authoritative.

Kaelith’s gaze fell back to the sword in his grip. The metal seemed to pulse faintly with a hidden energy, and he felt an inexplicable connection to it, as though the weapon itself was alive, communicating with him.

“What in the world…” he whispered, his voice trailing off as the reality of the situation sank in.

‘In my hands?’ Looking down at the gleaming longsword in his hands Kaelith began to contemplate, ‘The only thing I’m holding is this sword…’

Seeing as Kaelith had suddenly paused in the middle of handing the sword to Cordellia, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is something the matter?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of concern and impatience.

Kaelith’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The voice in his head was unnervingly clear, and the idea that it was coming from the sword he held felt both absurd and undeniable. He glanced down at the weapon again, its polished blade reflecting the dim light of the hallway.

"Quite so," the voice reiterated, its tone insistent yet oddly polite. "Now, would you please retract me from being given to the young lass? Cordellia, was it? She is not quite ready to wield me in earnest."

Kaelith swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the hilt. The sword felt different now—heavier as if it carried weight beyond its physical form. His thoughts spun in a whirlwind of uncertainty, but the voice’s command was unmistakable.

“Kaelith?” Cordellia’s voice brought him back to the present, her tone more urgent now. “Is there something wrong?”

He hesitated, not sure how to explain what was happening. How could he tell her that the sword, an inanimate object, was speaking to him and advising against returning it to her? He glanced at Nanik, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious but not yet alarmed.

Kaelith took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I… I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think this sword—” he paused, searching for the right words, “—I think it’s trying to communicate with me?”