Chapter 1

In a bustling city, Zephyr watched as a young child marvels at the weapon materializing before them. It was a knife in its ethereal form.

"Look, Mom! I'm finally able to materialize my armament!" The child chorused excitedly, and began to wave it around.

The mother smiling, chastised "Don't wave it around like that, you'll hurt someone."

The World had rapidly changed in the span of 5000 years, the normal animals evolved into powerful monsters, while the people began to receive weapons at their birth made from their spirits. Called "Armaments".

But in all the changes there was one child named "Zephyr" who was born without an armament. It was said that due to a problem with his birth that caused it, causing his mother to perish at his birth.

As Zephyr grew up in this world of powerful monsters and people wielding Armaments, he faced numerous challenges and hardships. Being born without an Armament made him an outcast, The loss of his mother at birth added an extra layer of sorrow to his life, as he always wondered if he was somehow responsible for her death.

Zephyr's upbringing was unique. His father, had died when he was 13. So he was forced to take care of himself with his family's modest fortune.

Zephyr watched the interaction between the mother and son pair with unknowable eyes.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he continued walking.

"The lady said it would be around this street... Ah there it is."

The building stood nestled on the corner of the street,  adorned with a wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze, displaying the name "Rusty lantern Inn".

Pushing open the creaky wooden door, they were greeted with a cozy interior that exuded the comforting feel of a home away from home.

He walked up to the counter and booked a room for 3 days.

Laying on the bed zephyr began to sigh. "All that walking turned my legs into mush."

He dozed off recounting the interaction between the mother and child.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, the exhaustion finally took over, and Zephyr succumbed to the peaceful embrace of sleep. His breathing deepened, and his body relaxed entirely, allowing him to surrender to the realm of dreams.

In his slumber, Zephyr found himself in a dark place surrounded by what seemed like mossy bricks and rocks.

"A Cave, way to go brain, how did I even come up with this kind of dream." He joked dryly.

He walked around browsing the place until he felt a slight tug from somewhere.

'What's this feeling?'

Tug

"That way huh.."

Tug

"A cave inside a cave.. what even"

With a deep breath, he decided to follow the mysterious call, slowly walking towards the pull of the unknown.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached a vast underground chamber. At the middle lay a sword riddled with rust.

"...do I have a secret rusty holy sword wielding hero complex inside my brain or something?"

Upon closer inspection zephyr rapidly denied that thought.

"Still though why is a rusty sword in a cave inside a cave here, inside my dream no less...,  Also this feels too real."

Tug

'again..'

Intrigued and undeterred he ventured forth, guided only by the enigmatic tugging sensation. Carefully, he peered down to inspect the rusty sword and felt an unfathomable and concealed power.

The tug became almost irresistible, pulling him towards the sword.

"A sword in a cave inside a cave, what could go wrong."

With a deep breath, he brought his hand to the hilt. The moment his fingers wrapped around the rusty grip he felt an inexplicable connection, as if the sword itself was calling out to him. Its presence seemed to resonate deep within his soul, and an ancient power stirred within the blade.

He was overwhelmed by a torrent of vivid and haunting visions. These visions were of a world in turmoil, consumed by chaos and devastation at the hands of a dark and malevolent being. He saw towering cities reduced to rubble, forests consumed by flames, and oceans turned into maelstroms of destruction. The being responsible for this cataclysmic upheaval emanated an aura of pure malevolence.

Amidst the ruins, he witnessed pockets of resistance, brave souls standing against the encroaching darkness. These valiant individuals wielded weapons infused with light and hope, fighting fiercely to protect what remained of their world.

As the visions unfolded, he was jolsted awake.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Gasping for breath, he found himself back at the dimly lit room in the inn.

his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The visions had felt so real, as if he had been transported to another realm entirely.

He took a few moments to regain his composure, trying to separate the lingering echoes of the visions from the present moment. With trembling hands, he reached for the nightstand to steady himself,

Clank

For a moment, he stared at the fallen sword, his thoughts were presented in the room.

"Did I just rip out a sword from my brain..?"

The idea that he had somehow "ripped out" a sword from his own mind sounded preposterous, yet he couldn't deny the strange reality of the situation. He wondered if the visions were a result of the sword's power or if they had been triggered by some hidden knowledge buried deep within his subconscious.

He cautiously examined the blade from the bed, Half-expecting it to vanish like a mirage, but it remained tangible and solid. The engravings on the blade were just as vivid as in his dreams, and the connection he felt with the ancient weapon was undeniable.

"It looks kinda different..., It looks more lighter-ish"

He knew that he had to seek answers and guidance.

'but where do I even ask..,'

The thought of asking other people about a sword ripping out of his mind made him cringe.

"Who would believe me, a sword appeari-.., wait that kinda sounds like an armament hahahahah... WAIT!"

At those words, He willed the sword to him. as if responding to his command, obeyed the unspoken desire and launched into motion.

Swish

With a swish of its blade, the sword flew through the air and landed perfectly in his outstretched hand.

He stood there, stunned and amazed, as he held the sword aloft, watching the engravings shimmer in the soft light.

A mix of awe and trepidation washed over him. The sword's willingness to heed his call confirmed the profound connection they shared. It was no ordinary weapon; it was an extension of his own being, a bond that transcended the physical realm.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Cool

This is some arthurian legend shit going on here.

7/28/23