Haruki stood before the dragon spirit, bewildered. Her fingers clenched involuntarily at her side. What does all this mean? How am I supposed to make sense of this madness? she wondered. She could not yet grasp the knowledge that had entered her soul—the memories, the feelings, the painful and glorious experiences carried by the presence now living inside her. Nor did she fully understand the swords the dragon spoke of; she only knew the old stories, fragmented and incomplete.
The legend Aunt Hanna had told was far from whole. Over time, as it passed from generation to generation, details had been lost or twisted. The people had long dismissed it as mere myth—a childhood dream, not reality.
At first, the dragon showed no resentment. It understood how forgetful humans could be, how oral memories faded with each retelling. But as the conversation turned to the swords, its anger deepened, shaking the very air with its voice.
"So you know nothing of our final battle?" it rumbled. "Nothing of the oath we swore? The swords in which we willingly sealed our spirits—do you understand that?"
Haruki took a step back. The spirit's fury wasn't physical, yet it shook her to the bone. This was no trivial anger. How am I going to bear this?
"I thought... you died heroes... that you fell in the war..." she said hesitantly.
"Fell?" the dragon interrupted sharply. "No! We turned to dust, as time decreed. But before our last breath faded, we left instructions behind. Four swords were forged—our scales embedded in the hilts, our hearts' essence sealed in the pommels. We did not imprison ourselves—we were locked away by you, as per our final will."
Haruki's heart hammered, her breath quickened, and her fists clenched tightly. This is more than I ever imagined. Is this really my responsibility? "So the sword... it's not just a weapon?"
"No. It's a legacy. An oath. A protection." The voice softened briefly, as if cloaked in mourning. "We did not give our lives—that was taken by time. We sacrificed our eternal rest. And you… have forgotten us."
Silence stretched long. Haruki looked around the glowing light and pulsing shadows—a world that felt unreal yet painfully real.
"You wanted me to open the urn," she said softly. "But you didn't command me. I just... felt I had to."
"Because your blood spoke for me," the dragon replied, voice low and clear. "The blood of one of the four eternal bloodlines. The key isn't an object. It's you. Your heart, your memories… your ancestors' legacy."
Haruki's eyes widened. "Then... the sword is still there? Beneath the sand?"
"Yes," the voice rumbled. "The body can part from the blade… but the soul has already moved on. And now... there's no turning back."
"The awakening has begun. The swords must be retrieved again. All four." The dragon's voice surged with power once more. "There will not be just one warrior. There are four of you. And the world... will burn again, Haruki. The question is no longer if you're ready. It's whether anyone will remember our sacrifice."
Haruki's heartbeat quickened. Fear and doubt mingled across her face. The dragon spirit stood before her, its gaze blazing.
"There are four swords," the spirit said deeply, its voice slow and threatening. "Each awaits its heir. You carry only one."
Haruki took a step back, her voice rising and trembling.
"I am not a warrior! I never asked for this! I don't want this fate! It's not my burden!"
The dragon's face hardened, fury igniting anew. Its voice tore through the space like lightning.
"You never had to ask! It was never your choice! This is your destiny—whether you fear it or not, it is! The path lies before you, and you cannot turn away!"
"But... I'm just a girl..." Haruki whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I don't know how to fight. I'm not worthy."
"Worthy?" the spirit snarled. "That's not the question! Courage isn't the absence of fear. Courage means moving forward despite it. Will you protect or die without trying?"
Haruki stood broken, weighed down by fear, but the dragon's gaze made one thing clear: there was no escape.
"This path is yours. Accept it, or be destroyed. But you cannot run."
She bowed her head, lips trembling as tears finally spilled free.
"How can you expect me to bear all this? A girl who only wanted to live now carries the fate of the world?" Her voice cracked, trembling with pain and helplessness.
The dragon spirit stepped closer, its eyes no longer just angry but reflecting an ancient, deeper sorrow.
"You did not choose this. But now that the soul is inside you, your fate is bound to it. You do not have to save the world alone, but you must start the process. Others will awaken too, others will find their swords."
"But what if I'm not enough?" Haruki asked quietly, doubt threatening to paralyze her.
"You are enough." The dragon's voice softened yet remained firm. "Not because you are strong or brave, but because you are the one who accepts it. The sword is not only in your hand but in your heart. Strength isn't in the weapon—it's in you."
Haruki slowly lifted her head, her gaze steadier.
"And if I'm not who I'm meant to be? If I fail?"
"Then you have already begun the journey. The path itself is the struggle, the learning, the sacrifice. You are not alone, but you are the first. This is a beginning, not an end."
The dragon spirit vanished briefly with a soft sigh, then reappeared, speaking as if from eternity itself.
"Now you know. There is no turning back. But you are not alone. Your sword awaits you, and with it, your fate. It's your turn now, Haruki."
Haruki took a deep breath, and for a fleeting moment, she felt she might truly face whatever lay ahead, even as the fear swirling in her heart began to take hold.
The dragon spirit sensed this—the rage and fury still burned within, but now its voice softened, as if trying to soothe the girl herself.
"I see your fear, Haruki," it said calmly, a trace of human empathy in its once menacing tone. "My anger hasn't faded, for I cannot forget the sacrifice. But now, I face not an enemy—but you."
For a moment, the dragon's eyes softened, and the tension in the air eased.
"I will help you on this path, though it will be hard and painful. When you return to your body, you will remember all that I carry: knowledge of herbs, martial arts, strategy, and survival."
Haruki's eyes slowly brightened with hope, though doubt still lingered.
"But..." the dragon continued, "since you are still weak, you will not be able to use this knowledge fully. You won't understand everything at once, and your body will not obey immediately."
The spirit's voice shifted to a painful but steady promise.
"I will bring these out of you, slowly, step by step. Through pain and blood, but every step will make you stronger. It won't be easy, but I won't leave you alone."
Haruki nodded, her fists clenched over her chest, the first true spark of resolve lighting her eyes. Around her, the dragon spirit began to fade, like mist retreating before the sun.
"Now go back, Haruki. Your body awaits you—and the fight. But never forget, you are not alone."
Her eyes filled with questions; her voice was quiet and uncertain.
"But... what herbs, what martial arts, what strategies can I gain if I can't even use them yet? I'm not a warrior, and I don't know how to apply any of this."
The dragon spirit was silent for a moment, then answered in a low but firm voice.
"All I know will live inside you. Not immediately, not all at once. Gradually, step by step. As your body and soul grow stronger, these abilities will open to you. The knowledge doesn't come tomorrow—it comes when you're ready."
"It is not expected of you to know and use everything right away," the dragon said, "but to open yourself to learning and growth. The pain you endure, the trials you face—all are part of the path that will shape you into a warrior."
Haruki closed her eyes slowly, and amid the deep uncertainty, a faint new hope stirred within her.
Suddenly, the dragon spirit's voice grew strong and commanding, echoing through the space and almost shaking the air itself.
"Haruki! If you love Daiki, you must return NOW!" it called sharply, urgency burning like fire. "The arrow wound is grave! There is no time to hesitate!"
Its eyes blazed, its power raging, but beneath the fury lay worry and love.
"The wound won't heal on its own! Darkness is creeping in, and the demons gather! Those who are wounded transform slowly into demons—the world will be swallowed by shadows if you do not act!"
Haruki's heart pounded wildly. The dragon's words were now all about urgency and a life-or-death battle.
"There's no more time! Go back, Haruki! You must save him—and the whole world!" The dragon's voice was both stern and pleading. "The path is hard, but if you want to fight with him, not against him—go now!"