Genevieve allowed her fingers to trace the blade.
The two of them were sitting outside the cave after finishing the stew that Aiden had cooked from the boar meat. Nothing could beat a meat stew following a storm.
"Is it going to break?" he asked.
"It looks fine," she said. "Did the shopkeeper say it was going to break?"
"It has one foot in the grave," he assured her. "I was worried it would break during a fight, but it can cut through anything with ease."
"We can test it," she said and summoned her blade. "Let's exchange a few strikes."
"It might break!" Aiden protested with widened eyes.
"It's better if it breaks against me, than against an enemy," she said before throwing the jagged blade at him. Aiden caught it and backed away from her.
"I can see the logic in your words, but my heart isn't ready."
"Are you afraid?"
"Only of impressing you too much," he retorted. She gave him a grin and threw herself forward, and the two blades met each other.
Aiden found himself flying toward the cave's entrance and rolling inside, while Promise flew from his hand and stabbed the walls. It impaled the walls and got stuck, while Aiden kept rolling for a few seconds.
"You didn't hold back at all!" he protested as he jumped from the ground and dusted himself off. Aiden stormed out, ready to give her a piece of his mind, when he found her in shock.
"That blade didn't break," she said with an astonished gaze as she raised hers. It was a violet blade, almost translucent, but pulses of energy washed over it. "This weapon has been gifted to me by my master—its sharpness is unmatched."
"I can tell," Aiden said as he rolled his eyes. "You just sent me flying."
"But your blade… did not break," she muttered as she pointed with her sword at the impaled Promise. "It remained a single piece."
"You wanted to break it?" Aiden looked at her with betrayal. "I bought this with all the money I had."
"I wanted to gift you a better one," she said with a slightly embarrassed expression. "Now it seems like a child's toy next to this blade."
"You are overselling it," Aiden said as he pulled Promise from the wall, and it was indeed unharmed. "It's just an old sword."
"Don't underestimate old swords," Genevieve said while shaking her head. "They carry more soul than some humans. Do you know its name?"
"I do," Aiden said with a nod.
"Have you ever called for it?" she asked.
"I'm not crazy."
"You wouldn't be," she said with a cold expression. "A swordsman who's afraid of calling for their blade doesn't deserve it."
"I'm not afraid," Aiden said. "It's just embarrassing."
"It would be, if you receive no answer."
"You think the blade would answer me?" Aiden asked her with furrowed brows. "You might be the one who's crazy."
"Can you just shut up and do as I say?" she asked him with an exasperated sigh. "Raise the blade high and call its name—muster all the conviction you have, otherwise the blade won't answer."
"And if I fail?"
"It will never respond to you again. You have one chance."
"Great. I'm not pressured at all," Aiden said with a sigh as he stared at the blade, and then at Genevieve's serious expression. He realized she wasn't joking.
His expression turned to the blade. Aiden pressed the hilt to his chest and closed his eyes. He envisioned the name in his mind and attempted to understand why it was called Promise.
It could be a promise of revenge, rising, reunion, or destruction.
Aiden had no idea—but he was willing to listen to its story.
He opened his eyes.
Genevieve gave him a nod.
Aiden grit his teeth and raised the sword toward the sky.
"Promise!"
His shout echoed in the cave and throughout the forest.
A few moments passed.
And then, there was nothing.
"Now that's just—" Aiden began, but a tremor interrupted his words.
The blade trembled.
And a voice echoed.
"Again," it demanded.
Genevieve and Aiden shared a glance. They both heard it.
This time, Aiden called out with conviction.
"PROMISE!"
The world split open.
A shockwave exploded with Aiden at the center, sending Genevieve backward. Black mist surrounded Aiden as cracks appeared on his sword. The mist began to infiltrate him, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
"Better," the voice answered. "But not yet."
The mist then began to disappear.
Genevieve rose from the ground, confused as she stared at him.
"That sword… answered," she muttered with a grin. "It has accepted you as its master."
"I feel like it rejected me," Aiden said with a frown as he stared at his cracked sword. "It looks worse than before."
"That's just the exterior shell," she said as she advanced forward. "You were about to unseal the weapon, but the process almost killed you—you are still too weak."
"I did just send you flying," Aiden shot back with an offended expression. "You should watch your tone, young lady."
"I'm twelve years older than you," she said while flicking his forehead. Aiden staggered back as his forehead turned red. "This blade is far more valuable than you think—valuable enough to get you killed."
"Are you having some evil thoughts, Genny?" Aiden asked while rubbing his forehead.
"My bound sword is one I would never betray," she said while unsheathing her sword. "And why would I crave yours, when you promised to fulfill my dream?"
"Ah, who said I wanted to fulfill that promise?"
The sword trembled.
Aiden almost dropped it.
"I guess we know why it earned that name," Genevieve said with a grin. "You will have such a hard time in the future, Aiden."
"I have no doubts about that," Aiden said with defeat. "That reminds me, can you repeat what you said earlier?"
"Repeat what?" she asked in confusion.
"Just tell me how you don't crave my sword, but very slowly, like you don't really mean it," he said with a serious expression.
Genevieve stared at him in confusion, and then it clicked—her eyes widened and her face turned red.
Aiden was about to laugh when he felt his feet leaving the ground, and then his body slamming into a giant boulder.
He deserved that.