Chapter 8

The sun's dying light filtered through dusty windows as Sami finished scrubbing the kitchen. She leaned back to admire her work - every surface now gleamed brighter than when first built, not a trace of dirt remained. A sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips, glad to have the space spick and span once more.

Stepping outside, she scanned the yard for Yuri. Near the treeline, her lover wrestled with their massive "pet" turtle, Shelby. Even now, the island puller's appetite seemed insatiable as it snapped and snarled, trying to gobble down food faster than Yuri could shovel it in.

Only Yuri possessed the skill and strength to feed the hulking beast without losing an arm. Any fool who dared approach its gaping maw would find themselves swiftly consumed. Shelby's colossal size demanded constant sustenance, taxing even Yuri's endurance.

Sami watched awhile, always amazed by Yuri's way with the creature.

Though its bites could crush boulders, around Yuri it acted almost tame. Once sure her partner was okay, Sami turned back inside.

The mound of treasures hauled from the last expedition still waited, demanding her attention. "Best make use of this time," she muttered, beginning the labor of sorting their findings. Coins, runes, relics and artifacts in various states of decay needed organizing if their value was to be discerned.

With Yuri occupied outside, the task fell to Sami alone.

She carried armfuls upstairs to the library, their vast collection cramming every shelf and surface.

Books of every subject, from every age and in varying conditions needed categorizing. Which were valuable additions to their knowledge, which duplicates could be sold or exchanged? Each volume required inspection as she sorted. Lost in the familiar work, her mind soon wandered as her hands worked automatically.

She thought of the large golden ball residing in their basement. Yuri couldn't allow herself to leave such a huge amount of treasure behind, so she brought it home with them. Sami wasn't sure how good of an idea that was, nor what to do with it now. They couldn't sell it, nor use it due to the monster trapped inside.

She let out a deep sigh before finishing organizing the bundle of books she held in her hand, and heading back downstairs to the living room to get more.

As she walked into the living room, a whisper brushed Sami's ear, dragging her from her musings. She spun, finding nothing but empty space and dust motes dancing in fading light. "I must have imagined it," she decided, returning to her sorting.

But the whisper persisted, seeming now to emanate from the far corner, where a tantalizing black rapier rested in its scabbard.

"Weak one..." a voice echoed from the blade, sending a chill up Sami's spine. She froze, eyes locked on the sword as an uneasy feeling crept over her. Darkness started swallowing her surroundings. She felt cold and warm at the same time. "What kind of Scollerahip is this!?" Sami asked.

The voice came again, this time from the shadows, a whisper that crawled across her skin like a living thing. "Weak one..."

Sami hugged her arms tight, breath misting before her. The darkness was complete, yet in the distance, a glimmer caught her eye - faint and flickering, as if struggling to stay alight. 

She took a hesitant step toward the light, boots scuffing over stone. All around, the shadows deepened, pressing in. A memory surfaced - the tomb's cramped passages, hewn rock closing in on all sides as the stone army advanced relentlessly. She had fought to the point of exhaustion, limbs leaden, every parry and dodge dragging her further toward collapse. 

"You've known failure where others would prevail," the voice murmured. Sami winced. She saw it again - the glint of stone blades closing in for the kill, felt the crushing impact as the golden golem's fist sent her crashing into solid rock. Her vision swam with stars as battered ribs screamed in protest. Blood filled her mouth, hot and metallic on her tongue.

"Time and again you've stared death in the face, and blinked." 

A fresh memory rose unbidden - Yuri falling, pale face twisted in agony as crimson bloomed across her tunic. Sami cried out, lunging to aid her friend, but the shadows swallowed her outstretched hands. She fell to her knees, heart pounding, as Yuri's lifeblood stained the ancient stones.

Doubt curled cold and heavy in her belly. How could she protect anyone, least of all her partner, in such a state? Another step forward, and the light grew nearer - yet with it came a fresh wave of memories, parading her failures and close calls before her mind's eye. 

The tomb. The golem. Yuri's pale, still form. More followed, each etching itself deeper - the wyvern's slashing talons, the assassin's blade at her throat, poison coursing her veins as antidote proved too slow. She was drowning, lungs burning for air, when suddenly the visions receded. Darkness closed back in.

"You know the truth - your weakness is a wound that will not heal." The voice was a caress now, promising balm for her pain. "But I can mend what is broken. Forge you anew from steel instead of flesh. No one will stand against your strength, if only you accept my offer."

Sami hesitated, the light flickering before her. She found herself wondering - Things could have been different back then if I was stronger. Maybe, he wouldn't have left if I was stronger. If I was stronger, maybe I could have found a cure for Yuri's illness already, and saved her from her suffering...

The oppressive darkness retreated slowly, as if loath to release its hold. A new light emerged to fill the void, its radiance banishing the lingering shadows. But this light was no mere flicker - it shone with a brilliance that momentarily blinded Sami. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes, waiting for her vision to adjust.

When it did, she found herself standing adorned in formidable black and red armor. The polished steel glimmered in the light, unmarred and untested by battle. She felt a surge of unfamiliar strength coursing through her veins.

Her newfound prowess left her feeling light yet sturdy, swift yet resilient.

In this vision, her power was put to use shielding Yuri from the cruel grasps of Vishios monsters wanting to harm her, and even helping her find a cure for Yuri's debilitating illness.

Sami saw herself supporting her lover, carrying her when her legs grew weak and holding her steady when coughs wracked her slender frame. Gone was the pallor of sickness; color bloomed once more in Yuri's cheeks. Sami smiled at the sight, her laughter ringing out as carefree as in days past.

Yet this new self wielded power for more than protection alone. In her hands was an enigmatic black-rose rapier, it's edge singing as it cleaved through a relentless tide of adversaries. Faceless foes fell before her onslaught, unable to stand against her strength. Purpose and potency coursed through her with each precise movement, a song of steel. She loved it.

The vision started disappearing, going out of her reach. Sami reached out to touch her vision-self once more, yearning to feel the solid reassurance of armor beneath her fingers, and power in her veins. Her heart raced at the sight of such purpose and prowess, yearning to connect with this version of herself that knew no weakness or doubt. "I could give you this strength," the whisper promised from the shadows.

But before she could make contact, the doors slammed open with a resounding crash. Yuri entered, leaning heavily against the frame as if the effort of walking had drained what little reserves she had left. "Sami?" Concern laced her voice as she took in Sami's strange expression. "Are you well?"

Reality crashed back in with brutal force. Sami gazed down in bewilderment at the black-rose rapier clutched in her hand, its vines unfurling to twine around her trembling fingers like living manacles. Panic gripped her then as the vision's allure dissolved, leaving only fear and confusion in its wake. She tried casting the sword aside with, but the vines resisted, thorns digging deep.

Pain flared as muscles strained against their hold, and with a gasp she finally tore free.

"Darling, let me help," Yuri said, hurrying to her side. Worry creased her brow as she took in Sami's distress. Sami shook her head mutely, breathing hard. The rapier lay abandoned across the room, an omen of the surreal darkness that refused to fully relinquish its hold.

Gasping for breath, still grappling with disbelief, she managed a breathy, "I'm fine..." Her voice trembled, caught in the web of uncertainty.

Yuri's focus held steady on the ominous blade. "That thing again," she muttered, suspicion narrowing her eyes to wary slits.

Confusion laced Sami's inquiry. "What do you mean again?"

Yuri's tone grew somber, her words carrying weight. "When we first treaded into the hidden study, I heard strange whispers. Then, I'm not sure what exactly happened, it was like I was put under a trance. All I know is that the sword was at the heart of it."

Surprise etched Sami's features. "Then why did you bring it back with us?" She asked.

"Me? No, I didn't bring it. Why would I after what it did to me?" Yuri replied.

Yuri's widened eyes snapped back to the sword, its ominous presence intensifying.

The conversation shifted to the sword's fate, Yuri advocating for immediate disposal. She advanced toward the weapon with determination, but Sami intervened, fingers closing around Yuri's hand.

"NO!" Sami's urgency rang clear. "It's too reckless. Whatever this thing is, it's a clear menace. We can't risk leaving it for someone else to stumble upon and unleash chaos."

Yuri remained silent, her gaze locked onto Sami's.

Concern etched across Yuri's face, Sami reassured her, "I'm fine, don't worry. Blades are no match for me!"

She proposed a solution: "I'll seal it, chain it up and stow it in the basement until we can safely get rid of it. This way, we won't unwittingly sow trouble in our wake."

Reluctantly, Yuri agreed, their unspoken understanding sealed in their locked gazes.

With the black-rose rapier carefully swathed in towels, Sami set her plan in motion while Yuri's vigilant eyes lingered on the sword.

—

The cloaked figure moved through the labyrinthine alleys, his feet skimming the cobblestones with a nimbleness born of desperation. Each step seemed to echo in the eerie silence of the night, amplified by the urgency driving his escape. Shadows danced around him, cloaking his form in a veil of mystery as he darted through the winding pathways, chased by the relentless clatter of armor and the echoing shouts of the kingdom's guards.

His pulse raced in synchrony with his hurried steps, a rapid rhythm echoing the urgency of his flight. With every turn, he hoped to outmaneuver his pursuers, darting through narrow passages and vaulting over obstacles, driven by a fierce determination to evade capture.

Corner after corner, he wove through the ancient streets, his breaths shallow and rapid, the air thick with anticipation. The occasional glimpse of moonlight briefly illuminated his silhouette, the cloaked figure darting into the night like a fleeting specter.

At a stroke of luck, a covered cart laden with textiles offered a momentary sanctuary. The fugitive, in a daring move, slipped into the concealed recesses of the cart, concealing himself among the folds of fabric. Heart pounding against his ribs, he lay motionless, every muscle taut, praying for the concealment to shield him from the keen eyes of his pursuers.

The guards, relentless in their search, scoured the vicinity, their footsteps resonating through the narrow lanes. The fugitive dared not breathe, waiting in agonizing silence, the tense moments stretching into an eternity.

Finally, a subtle shift in the atmosphere signaled the departure of the guards. He cautiously emerged from his clandestine refuge, sliding out of the cart with cautious grace. Leaning against the nearest wall, the exhaustion of his desperate escape enveloped him. With a flick of his hand, the hood of his cloak fell back, revealing the visage of a Glaciadenti, his features marked by the unmistakable marbling of blue and white that bespoke his heritage.