A New Sword
It wasn’t the same. It was heavier, bulkier, everything looked and felt wrong about it, but something called to her about it. The way it broke open, the way the cylinders gleamed so faintly with a unique, interesting potential, it kept her eyes open. How it worked, how it operated was easy enough to grasp, but the curse in her mind was to figure out how to make the weapon work as a whole. That kept her admiring it, even as she tugged it from the rack it seemed to languish in, declaring it her own, declaring it hers.
It was really just a new sword.










