Namayah my man, you are just as crazy about swords as I am. Grab on to that awesome piece of art and never let go. :’3 Well… at least not for now… wanna know where this leads? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for me to finish my
“A Hidden Paradise” novella to find out! :F
This is a vague version of how it all started.
Namayah crawled over a pile of rubble into a small room. The ceiling had since long collapsed and the azure moon shed its light over the destruction within. Marble walls had been scorched black from incredible heat and anything
and perhaps anyone within had turned to ash. But there was something there, the hair on his arms and neck raised as his feet touched the floor.
“Where is it?” Namayah whispered and closed his eyes letting his senses tune in to whatever had drawn him there. His breathing quickened and his skin tingled as he stepped closer to the source.
And there it was, so vulnerable, so beautiful, a gem amongst the destruction. Namayah sank to his knees and watched a shard of steel shimmering beneath the ash. He held his breath and reached out for it. It felt cold against his
fingertips but a thin stream of warmth greeted his touch and vibrated up his arm to his heart.
Namayah carefully brushed the ash away with his hand, revealing more and more of that was a long graceful sword. The uncovered steel blade glowed with a pale white light and Namayah marvelled at the intricate engravings of runes
wrapped in vines and leafs. A beautiful azure blue crystal had been set in its guard.
The longer he looked at it, the stronger the urge to pick it up grew. Somewhere in his mind he knew he shouldn’t. But he already longed for that heat he had felt, however faint it was.
“It must be cursed…” He thought, the Laerthri said any relics of old should remain where they belonged, but this sword… he had the strangest feeling that it belonged with him. He reached out again and allowed his fingers to wrap
around the sword’s grip. The heat returned stronger this time and his eyes immediately teared up. He ran his hand along the entire length of the blade feeling not even the slightest bump or flaw on its surface. The sensation
made him shiver and he pressed the sword against his chest embracing it like a lover.
A sword forgotten, abandoned without a purpose. This was not a fate for such a perfect weapon. Again he studied every detail of it with no concern that someone probably worried about where he had gone by now. Cursed or not, he
craved to have it at his side forever.