Intense Training Amidst the Darkness
The night hung thick over Mythra, illuminated only by the faint glow of the pale moon reflecting the shadows of ruined buildings in the distance. In the back yard of an old, crumbling factory, Lesendra stood with the obsidian diamond sword in his hands, its soft blue glow gently illuminating the space around him.
His body was still covered in wounds, but his eyes shone sharp with determination. Across from him, Seira stood holding two short swords, her face serious but attentive.
"If you just swing that thing recklessly, the sword will kill you before it kills the enemy," Seira said firmly.
Lesendra took a deep breath, raising the sword with both hands.
"Then teach me. I have to control it."
Seira nodded, her eyes flashing coldly.
"Alright. But don't expect me to go easy on you."
With light steps, Seira suddenly lunged, slashing one of her short swords toward Lesendra. Reflexively, Lesendra tried to block with the obsidian diamond sword, but the wild energy from the weapon made his swing too forceful, forcing Seira to leap back. Lesendra staggered, nearly losing his balance.
"See? You're forcing the power too much. Feel the flow of the energy—don't fight it," Seira instructed. She attacked again, her movements swift, exploiting small openings. Lesendra blocked more cautiously, trying to follow the flow of the sword's blue energy that pulsed in his hands.
They fought with a quick, sharp rhythm, the clash of blades ringing through the air. Each swing of Lesendra's sword sent out blue flashes slicing through the night, but Seira continued to dodge, countering with agile movements.
"Focus! Don't just slash wildly! Listen to your sword!" Seira shouted, aiming her blade at Lesendra's shoulder.
Lesendra closed his eyes briefly, trying to hear the flow of power within the obsidian diamond sword. A faint vibration reached his ears—not a whisper, but a ringing, like the song of metal flowing through the weapon.
He opened his eyes, deflecting Seira's attack with a smoother movement, channeling the blue energy along the sword's length instead of letting it burst out uncontrollably. His strikes became more precise and deadly, forcing Seira to retreat a few steps.
Seira gave a faint smile.
"Getting better. But you're still too slow."
She dashed forward, her twin blades slashing rapidly. Lesendra blocked with his golden hand, which now shone more brightly, parrying steadily and spinning the sword to create a small swirl of blue light that deflected Seira's attack.
Lesendra gasped for air, his body trembling violently.
"I'm not perfect… but I'm starting to understand the flow of its power."
Seira stepped closer, patting his shoulder.
"It's not about perfection. You're learning to harmonize with the sword, not just master it. That's the key to defeating them."
Lesendra looked at the obsidian diamond sword, now glowing more steadily. Its blue light no longer flared wildly, but flowed like a gentle river, ready to erupt at any moment.
"I'll keep training. Until this sword truly becomes an extension of myself."
Seira nodded.
"And I'll be here to make sure you don't die in the process."
They stood in silence under the night sky, accompanied only by the sound of the wind and the faint flicker of the sword reflecting the moonlight. This training was just the beginning of a power that would shake Mythra.
Seira's Secret and the Changing Light of the Sword
The night in Mythra seemed to stop spinning. Lesendra and Seira were still standing in the back yard of the old, crumbling factory where their intense training had just ended. Lesendra was panting, his golden hand still faintly glowing, while the obsidian diamond sword, planted in the ground, pulsed with a soft blue light.
Seira stood a short distance away, gazing at the sword with an expression that was hard to define—a mix of awe, fear, and sorrow.
"Lesendra…" she whispered, her tone dropping deeper, full of restrained emotion. "You… you have no idea how much danger you're carrying right now."
Lesendra looked at her in confusion, his hands trembling as he gripped the hilt of the sword.
"What do you mean? I'm just trying to destroy the gods, to free Mythra."
Seira stepped closer, her eyes glinting faintly in the moonlight.
"That sword… it's not just a weapon. It's not just the ultimate weapon. It's… a key."
Suddenly, the sword's glow shifted—from a soft blue to a warm gold, then flaring into a fiery red like boiling blood. Lesendra gasped, tightening his grip on the sword, but the colors continued to change. From red to a deep black, then slowly fading into a blinding white.
"What's happening?!" Lesendra cried out, eyes wide as he watched the chaotic light. The sword vibrated violently, emitting a low rumble that shook the air.
Seira gazed at him, her eyes glassy with held-back tears.
"That sword… it's not just an ancient rebel weapon. It's made from the essence of the gods' own power. Each color represents a stream of energy flowing through Mythra—blue for truth, gold for courage, red for sacrifice, black for darkness, and white for… immortality."
Lesendra froze, his hands shaking.
"So this sword… it's not just for fighting them?"
Seira nodded slowly.
"It's not just a tool of destruction. It's a tool of choice. Those who aren't strong enough will be destroyed by its own power. But those who are… will possess a power even the gods themselves can't imagine."
The sword's light continued to swirl wildly around them, making the air pulse, the ground tremble, and Lesendra's hair whip around from the storm of energy. He clenched his fist, his eyes glowing red as he struggled to contain the torrent of power surging into his veins.
Seira stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper.
"And you, Lesendra… the sword chose you not because you're strong. But because you're different."
Lesendra stared at her, his eyes burning but confused.
"Different… how?"
Before Seira could answer, the sword's light suddenly peaked, flashing a blend of blue, gold, red, black, and white in one blinding burst that shattered the silence of the night. Lesendra was thrown back, landing on his knees, while Seira shut her eyes as if shielding herself from the light.
As the glow slowly faded, Seira's soft voice barely broke the silence.
"I… was part of them, Lesendra. I used to be part of the Dark Throne."
Lesendra stared at her wide-eyed, his breath caught. The sword's glow had dimmed to a faint shimmer, but its mystery deepened, and a secret between them began to unfold.
The night in Mythra felt unbearably still after the light of the obsidian diamond sword faded. Lesendra still knelt, trembling, his hands clutching the sword now only shimmering faintly. Seira stood a few steps away, her face pale, her eyes staring blankly as if burdened by a heavy weight.
"Seira…" Lesendra's voice was hoarse, heavy with confusion and a buried anger.
"What do you mean? You're one of them? From the Dark Throne?"
Seira closed her eyes for a moment, drawing a deep breath.
"I… I used to be their hand. Long ago."
Lesendra looked at her in disbelief.
"Their hand? You worked for the gods?"
Seira nodded faintly, her eyes glistening in the sword's soft glow.
"I wasn't just an ordinary human, Lesendra. I used to serve the Dark Throne—not as a soldier, not as a mere follower, but as part of the inner circle. I know their secrets, their systems, how they manipulate this world."
Lesendra remained silent, his eyes red as he stared at Seira.
"Then why are you with me now? Why help me fight them?"
Seira lowered her head, her voice raspy.
"Because I was sick of it, just like you. I saw how they destroyed families, killed children, drained the people, sacrificed anyone to hold onto their power. At first, I believed them—that the gods would bring order. But it was all lies. I was just a puppet in their hands, and I ran. But I was never truly free… until I met you."
Lesendra stood still for a moment, his golden hand clenched into a fist.
"Then why didn't you tell me from the start? Why wait until now?"
Seira met his eyes, her voice almost trembling.
"Because I was afraid. Afraid you'd think I was a traitor. Afraid I'd lose the only person who trusted me… even though I don't deserve that trust."
Silence hung between them. The night wind in Mythra blew softly, carrying the scent of dust and metal. Lesendra stared at Seira for a long time, then slowly stood, though his body still trembled.
"Seira…" he whispered.
"I might be angry. I might feel betrayed. But I also know… if it weren't for you, I would've died in the Bone Labyrinth. You saved me."
Seira lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm just trying to make up for my mistakes. I want to destroy the Dark Throne not to become a hero… but because I want to free myself."
Lesendra stepped closer, placing his golden hand on her shoulder.
"We both have dark pasts. But what matters is that we're here now. Together. If we want to bring down the Dark Throne, we have to trust each other."
Seira lifted her face, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"You… still trust me?"
Lesendra nodded, his eyes burning with determination.
"I can't fight them alone. And I trust you want to destroy them too. So we'll do it. Together."
Seira wiped her tears, offering a faint smile.
"Then we'll move forward. Together. Until the Dark Throne falls."
They stood side by side, gazing at the burning city of Mythra in the distance. The faint glow of the obsidian diamond sword shimmered softly in Lesendra's hand, as if acknowledging their bond—not just as allies, but as two people carrying scars from the past, now fighting for a future of freedom.