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I remember… I was someone’s second sword.

I was forged for a great purpose, for a great hero who had lost a blade like me- was no longer worthy of it.

I was created… to be… ‘easier to wield’ I think…?

So long as he’d stay- so long as he was ‘unbound to duty, but true nonetheless’ he’d be able to carry me- he’d be able to use me.

It haunted him.

Whatever happened to his first blade kept haunting him.

He’d speak to me, telling me stories of great battles and the will of the deities that he followed. He must’ve thought he was talking to himself, but I was there.

I listened.

He sounded resentful.
He sounded tired and scared.

I wish I could’ve done more.

He abandoned me on this lonely mountain and told me he’d return one day, when he'd feel worthy again. I stayed, and continue to wait for him to this very day.

He never did return for me, but I will not lose faith. One day he will return.

He stayed true, he is still worthy, even if he doesn't believe it anymore. I know he is worthy- because I am his blade.

…I truly believe he is worthy- he'll always be…!



……He’ll come back one day……






……he really will……








………………………………………


………I miss him………

………I will be able to help him this time………

………I know I will………






………Please………

………Give me a chance to prove myself………