Of Particular and Peculiar Paranoia
Khira woke with a start, arm flailing out and knocking over an empty bottle as she jolted upright. She took more than a moment to survey her surroundings, blinking away the blurriness of the world to reveal her mess of a workshop. The Keeper woman groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as reality set in and the land of sleep and dreams faded away.
“Ugh… another dream, another glimpse into the past. Not something I’ll ever get used to…”
As she pulled herself up from the couch that was her makeshift bed she glanced around the room, eyes settling on the ominous sword suspended above her workbench, a flamberge covered in small rifts and fang-like protrusions.
“Still no change. I admit I was half expecting you to turn back into a normal sword once Starlight was destroyed and yet here we are a moon later and nothing.”
Ever since she had returned from that incident her mind had been abuzz with nothing but more questions, some justified and others bordering on paranoia. Was the blade /really/ just created as a prank or did Starlight have an actual goal in mind? Did she know it would be effective against her to the point of piercing her own defenses so utterly? That it would be brought against her? That she would die while impaled on it? Khira closed her eyes as she played the scene over again in her mind. The childish voidsent cackled with laughter as that very blade ignored her attempts to block it and plunged through her stomach and into the snow behind. No screaming nor crying just… playful laughter. Moments later, unable to bear an ally’s pugilistic assault, she disintegrated into nothingness. They had all seen it, felt it even, the end of a life. Khira shook the memories away and moved over to the weapon, peering at it hesitantly.
“Could it be possible I wonder… that you somehow managed to survive after all of that? I mean what am I even saying!? You were just a child, there’s no way you could have known that the circumstances would have aligned. She never would have raised it against you, or any weapon, so even if it was possible that this sword could be some sort of fail-safe phylactery of sorts there was no reason to ever think that…”
She shook her head, hands clenched as she let out a frustrated growl.
“No… no, enough. The thought of something like that is little more than paranoid speculation with no basis at all. Besides… I’m sure the Whiteseer would have known if something like that had occurred anyway. No, this is nothing more than a void cursed sword that eats aether and that’s final.”
The woman turned away from the blade, grabbing a jacket from the end of the couch before heading up the stairs and then out the door. As she left the sword just hung there, twitching and hissing as it always did, no different than before.
