Despite the chaotic interactions Hazahnahkah had with Knife and Lahahm, he was grateful and thrilled to have met them. They were proof there were more people like him out there—weapons with souls. Best of all, Hwayoung continued to speak with him by every firelight and at each sun’s first sight. She was extremely observational, and had caught that Hazahnahkah was quick to say as much with as little as possible. She confirmed it with ease.

  “As powerful as you are, it seems difficult for you to use your Third Terror to write? Should I try to speak to you through yes, no, or maybe questions?”

  A pond was nearby. Hazahnahkah altered the frequency of wind so that it blew the surface just right—so precisely that words spelled out. He was improving.

  GOOD IDEA.

  The girl giggled. “You can just say yes.”

  Hazahnahkah laughed too, although she could not hear him. He could not spell out the word for laughter without seeming cold. He didn’t know how.

  YOU ARE WRONG REGARDING MY FIRST TERROR.

  Hazahnahkah had been meaning to correct her for a while, both to build trust and to make sure there was no confusion later.

  “Huh? Really?”

  MY FIRST TERROR IS POSSESSION. I HAVE ONLY USED IT ONCE.

  The girl jumped at this, almost letting go of Hazahnahkah. Her palm reddened, tighter. She stared into the pond long after the words were gone. Whatever was on her mind now was a mystery. Humans always held more in their minds than they said.

  “That’s interesting. Possession is… your sister’s Ramble…”

  DO I REALLY HAVE FAMILY?

  The girl stiffened, suddenly unsure herself but choosing to continue anyway. “Many always said you had a sister sword, Vrast. That she possesses those that wield her. Maybe myth got your Rambles swapped up. December 11th and September 6th made the same mistake with you. I actually thought you were Vrast myself for a while… until of course I cost Nazaki his arm… then I realized who you were, what you were.”

  Hazahnahkah quickly replied to this. The letters in the water were messy, emotional, drifting apart from the moment the wind wrote them.

  MY PRIDE. MY FEAR. MY FAULT.

  “We share the blame,” the girl said. “Nazaki said that you gave him dreams. I always thought the sword… sorry I mean you… that you chose him. That although December 11th gave you to me… that you were no longer mine once I took Nazaki’s arm. But then those men came speaking of dreams. Then they served Nazaki. It all happened so fast. I doubt Nazaki even told anyone else in the village, he never liked his parents too… It all seemed so strange to me. That Hazahnahkah would summon travelers through their dreams? It wasn’t like in any of the stories I heard of you. It’s not how you operate. You use your Third Terror the most… and that was why I chased them. It wasn’t anything honorable. I was scared… and I guess confused too.”

  I AM SORRY.

  “It’s okay. But it’s clear someone else gave Nazaki dreams. And I think that was your sister. If December 11th carried you all that time, then doesn’t it make sense he had Vrast too? June 33rd told me December 11th fought you with a knife and lived… What weapon could survive you but your sister?”

  Serpent’s breath! Hazahnahkah shivered at the possibility. Could it really be that Knife of all things had been his sister? Though Knife was not at all a sword… she was a blade. They both spoke too. But Knife never made any indication of any of this. She hadn’t even introduced herself until Osayn. Even when Ysan was shot in that tower by December 11th, Knife did nothing. Even when Ysan fought December 11th, Knife did nothing. Even when December 11th died, Knife did nothing…

  December 11th!

  Hazahnahkah had nearly forgotten. The reason Hwayoung came out was because she was looking for December 11th and the other Orphanspawn… but now the man was dead… and who knew how far September 6th had teleported with her tower.”

  MYSTERIOUS SISTER. NOT SURE. OSAYN VILLAGERS KILLED DECEMBER 11TH FOR HIS CRIMES. ORPHANSPAWN TRAVEL FAST AND FAR. TIRED.

  Knowing the conversation was now finished, Hwayoung laughed. “And we never even used the words yes, no, or maybe.” She failed to hide the disappointment in her voice, however.

  Again Hazahnahkah was fatigued. If an emergency came, he might be needed, and he had pushed himself so hard with this talk that he almost didn’t get that last word out.

  The sword’s Third Terror was growing in his precision, his power, his persistence. This was the most he had ever needed to use it before. More than any battle. More than any tragedy. Speaking with Hwayoung was making him more capable of control, of communication, of even his combat prowess. He could feel it. No enemy had tested him as his conversations with Hwayoung had.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  And so many things were now mysterious to the blade. The sword wanted to keep speaking. He wanted to keep asking. He had so much more to communicate. About Ysan. About December 11th. About the scraps and rags of memory left within him. About Knife. About Hwayoung.

  They didn’t get the chance. There was a presence approaching them. Hazahnahkah prepared himself and focused. It was a weapon. A familiar scent. Lahahm and his wielder. While it was amazing he had survived, he had not had the good time that Hwayoung had.

  “Water?” he asked, promptly before collapsing.

  “Lahahm?” Hazahnahkah asked, wondering what had happened to the man.

  The spear was silent as well, but for a different reason. He was snoring.

  Of course, no one could hear it.

  Hwayoung walked away to a nearby pond. It was murky, bubbling, and perhaps filled with dead things from the storm. “Haz?” she asked. “Can you purify this?”

  Haz?

  Hazahnahkah wondered now if he had just earned a nickname. No one had given him such a personal and informal one either. He responded in tune as Hwayoung dipped him in the water. Utilizing his Third Terror he expunged the filth—rotting algae, toxic metals, and swarms of bacteria—unraveling at the molecular level. Organic waste dissolved into harmless carbon dioxide and water. Heavy metals like mercury and lead were compacted into solid nuggets that fell to the bottom of the lakebed. Pathogens disintegrated, their cellular walls rupturing, their deoxyribonucleic acid unwinding into nothingness. For the final touch, Hazahnahkah restructured the water’s lattice, aligning its molecules into pristine harmony. The lake became more than clean—it became perfection, a mirror of liquid clarity so pure it could have been distilled by the cosmos itself.

  Hwayoung stared in awe, then ran back to the man and dragged him over.

  Hazahnahkah spelled out words in the lake.

  HE CANNOT DRINK, FOR HE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT DRINK IS.

  The sword had said this so Hwayoung was not surprised for what came next, although she still was—Hazahnahkah activated his Third Terror once again to collapse the earth the man was on into the lake. He let the man float for a while. It had healing properties. It took minutes for even his deepest scars to disappear.

  The man, battered with thorns, rashes, and burns, awoke smoothly as the lakeside pulled him back. He introduced himself quickly: who he was and that he was sorry for the trouble on the petal sea. His name was Galfarys, and he had earnest eyes. He had noticeably sharp ears, dark greyish skin, and long straight hair with a crown of bramble he had made in funerary honor of the men who died in the Seasonal.

  Hazahnahkah was not surprised to find Galfarys surviving the ordeal. His talents were quite enduring. It seemed Swordpriests were as powerful as The Fawn Cities rumored.

  Health (source of vitality and abilities): 47,800

  Energy (source of stamina and abilities): 33,700

  Agility (speed of actions): 14,000

  Regeneration (rate of recovery per hour for Health and Energy): 45

  Tenacity (resistance to unwanted effects): 8000

  Strength (physical or mental reality manipulation potency): 1,900

  [Galfarys’s Abilities]

  Swordpriest: Capable of mentally controlling objects. Only 7 objects can be used at one time. When [Swordpriest] is active, Galfarys can activate any ability he controls from a controlled object as its source.

  Safety Field: Usually active unless Galfarys is pooping, showering, or washing one’s hands. Uses 1-10 Energy per hour, depending on range. Notifies Galfarys of anything entering the field and provides limited vibrational perception for up to ten miles. Weaker or softer objects permanently retain shallow crisscrossed diamond markings from the field.

  Supportive Swordwork: Galfarys can expend 25% of his Energy on an object reinforced by [Safety Field], granting it a human sized barrier equal to 25% of his Energy as Health. Can be reapplied while the object remains intact.

  [Galfarys’s Equipment]

  Lahahm: This spear is sleeping so deeply that analyzing its electromagnetic vibrations and characteristics seems impossible. Wake up, man!

  Wedding Bangle: This bejeweled bangle has mystical properties. If the bearer is [Galfarys] then a shield is gained equal to 50% of his health for a maximum of 2500 Health. This recharges at a rate of 1 Health every second.

  Zolgolgan Swordcoat: +15% to Agility and Tenacity.

  Gleamwood Keepsakes: Ceremonial Swordpriest accessories. Combined, they grant +500 Regeneration.

  Bramble Crown: Unarmed attackers occasionally deal 5% of their own Strength as damage to themselves. This item also increases damage taken by 5%.

  Dreamcatcher: This strange little trinket catches dreams that are not their own. It’s a popular gift to new parents in The Fawn Cities.

  It seemed the man’s brainwaves were also more focused on Hazahnahkah than he wanted to let on. Interested or not, it was probably best Hazahnahkah lay low and let Hwayoung decide how comfortable she was about revealing who she carried.

  “Do you know if Nazaki died?” Hwayoung asked.

  Galfarys bowed his head. “He’s alive.”

  Hwayoung shifted uncomfortably. “So where is he?”

  “North.”

  “How do you know?”

  “My dreams.”

  Knife. Hazahnahkah didn’t understand exactly what she was planning with these people, especially when she had already gotten away with Nazaki. Hwayoung threw her arms into the air. “And you still believe these dreams despite the fact it’s gotten you here? Most of you killed?”

  “As was fully intended. Only those who did not listen to the preparation their dreams gave them have been lost. The Seasonal is the only way to reach the one true Hazahnahkah. We were warned of it well ahead of time.”

  “Others? More than you survived?”

  “The group I washed up with… yes… although they did not like me…”

  “What? Why?”

  “They found me… annoying.”

  “I see. What is north? Why go there?”

  The man hesitated. He sighed through his nose, then pointed into the sunlit mist beyond. “We are not permitted to share our dreams with those who do not have them. But these woodlands are treacherous, and I am in need of a hand.”

  Hazahnahkah could feel Hwayoung’s urge to glance at him, for she knew that Nazaki’s men had been misled. However, she kept this to herself. The real mystery was who these people were, from where they had come, and why Knife had chosen them.

  Hazahnahkah shouted at Lahahm to ask him. Surely the spear would know, but he quickly proved no more insightful. Hazahnahkah had never seen anyone, any tree, or even Knife herself sleep so deeply.

  “Lahahm wake up!” Hazahnahkah shouted. “Is it true? How do we get back? If I know where we are and where we must go I may use my Third Terror to teleport us.”

  But Lahahm snored away, oblivious to their predicament. Hwayoung didn’t seek help from Hazahnahkah though, she took the challenge in stride, leading their venture towards the northern hinterlands, and most importantly, leading Hazahnahkah. They wondered together, and to themselves, what this dream of the One True Hazahnahkah truly was.