The day my Sword arrived

"Jace! Ready for your story?" I heard my Dad shout from his room.

"Yeah, I am!" I replied, my voice trembling with excitement, ya see- when you're about to get a soul-blade, you need to be told a story. Supposedly, that increases the chance of you getting a well-suited weapon.

I see my dad's bright smiling face, similar to my own but rougher, with a scar splitting his ear and dragging down to split some of his lip, too. he looked scary, but also really nice, like a guy who got into a fight by accident.

"All right, kid, let's get you laid down for sleep while I tell you the story." he smiled as I slipped into my bed, and He pulled out his weapon, single throwing axe. He had always told me that its hidden ability was that it could multiply up to 20 times.

"supposedly. over 200 years ago, the great gods began a war amongst themselves, and amid the war, a tall man with no facial features had walked into the middle of the battlefield, and with a wave of his hand, annihilated the gods around him, save for one, the young god of Knights,"

"Why did he spare that god?" I asked. He looked to the top right of my room and hummed in thought.

"I don't quite know, perhaps he would have felt bad if he killed a young god," he replied. I nodded, agreeing that his answer made sense. "Well, anyway, the man said to the god that he is going to return when the young one has grown and that when he does, he expects a battle to end all battles"

"That's cool and all, but what has that got to do with soul-blades?" I questioned again, slowly dozing off.

"Well, it was said that the gods need people to worship them to gain strength, so the knight used his godly powers to create weapons, and that every weapon has a bound soul. Supposedly, using these soul-blades is enough to be considered worshipping that god. And that when the faceless man comes back to kill the god of knights, the whole world will raise their blades and give the Knight enough power to avenge the other gods."

As my eyes grew heavy, I heard my Dad mutter that when the time comes, a hero will need to rise, and this hero will hand the knight his weapon, and together, the god and the hero will raise It and bring a single strike onto the faceless one, killing him.

After that, I felt a kiss on my forehead, and everything went blank.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

I awoke with a pained and muffled scream as I felt something enter my stomach, and opening my eyes, I saw my weapon. It was a beautiful sword, having stained black steel and a fiery purple aura. It was shaped like a traditional arming sword and had an intricate design carved into the guard and pommel.

My mind wandered along the intricate blade, and even though it seemed to be a regular sword, I could sense something emanating, it felt like a strong emotion, like some kind of compassion but it was different and I couldn't quite tell why. I don't know how I could just... tell.

My arm stretched out to the handle, gripping the handle and slowly pulling. Pain filled my brain as I screamed again, this time accompanied by me screaming for my father. Soon, his figure appeared in my doorway, smiling at the sight, before his face dropped.

"Jace... let go of the sword..." I looked at him confused as I continued to yank on the sword, now having only the tip left inside me. "JACE I SAID LET IT GO!"

I saw my Dad lunge forward in slow motion as the tip exited my stomach. A purple haze burst from the sword, knocking my Dad back and sending a shock wave around the room. Action figures fell, clothes piles scattered, and my door slammed against the wall.

I saw my dad's face contort to anger, then sadness before back to anger. "You silly boy! I told you not to touch it, you have an arming sword, the weakest weapon!" he hissed before taking a breath and seeing my now scared face.

"I'm sorry, son. I shouldn't have snapped," he sighed as he sat against the corner of my bed. "I just thought you might want something better, but I forgot that you can't change your weapon..."

I looked at my sword, still shaken, and nodded. suddenly, purple whisps of smoke began to circle the blade, shaping the scabbard for my new sword. "It's ok, dad... but i guess, tomorrow, we should register my sword?" I questioned, to which he patted my back and nodded

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