The days passed slowly.
Each morning, I awoke with a weight on my chest—the feeling of being hunted, though by nothing I could see. The air was heavy with uncertainty. Every time I looked at the Echo of Arcanum, now strapped to my back instead of clutched in my hands, I felt a deep, gnawing unease.
I hadn't asked for this. I hadn't asked for the responsibility of the sword, for the power—or for the failure.
I was supposed to be learning how to use it, but every time I tried to focus on the blade, it seemed to mock me. It felt like something that belonged to someone else, someone more capable, someone who knew exactly what to do with it. I wasn't ready.
I couldn't even defend myself from a golem. How could I possibly fight whatever else was out there?
Sitting by the campfire, I stared at the glowing embers, feeling the warmth against my hands but not truly feeling the comfort of it. The crackling of the fire seemed to mock my thoughts, each snap of the wood louder than the last.
"You're lost in thought again," Lira's voice broke through my reverie, her voice as cool and distant as it had been the first time we met. "Are you always this distracted?"
I blinked and turned to face her. She stood on the other side of the fire, her cloak falling around her like a shadow. Her glowing eyes gleamed in the dark, piercing through the mist and smoke. I didn't know how long she'd been there.
I exhaled sharply, forcing a half-smile. "I'm not distracted, just… thinking."
"Thinking?" She tilted her head, amusement dancing on her lips. "Or brooding? There's a difference, you know."
I clenched my jaw, feeling a flicker of irritation rise in my chest. "I'm not brooding."
Lira's smile widened, but she didn't argue further. Instead, she took a step closer to the fire, the warmth seemingly doing nothing to change the chill in her presence. Her eyes shifted to the blade at my side.
"You know, you're not going to get anywhere by sitting around. You've got potential, but potential without action is wasted." She crouched down near the fire, her voice softer now. "You've been given a chance, Kaito. A chance to change everything. But you're afraid of what it means."
I stared at the sword, the flames dancing in the steel of the blade. Her words cut deeper than I wanted them to, stirring something within me that I hadn't been willing to face.
"I'm afraid because I don't know what I'm doing," I muttered, finally admitting it aloud. The words felt heavy, like they were scraping against the walls I'd built around my heart. "I can't even control the magic in this sword. Hell, I couldn't even protect myself from that thing. I'm not ready for this."
Lira's gaze softened for the briefest of moments, but she didn't offer any immediate comfort. Instead, she stood up and walked over to me, her footsteps silent in the grass. She stopped beside me, looking down at the blade, then back at me.
"The Echo of Arcanum doesn't care if you're ready," she said quietly. "It chose you because you have something within you that it needs. But that doesn't mean it's going to make it easy for you."
I looked up at her, feeling my frustration grow. "What is that supposed to mean? If I don't have control over it, what good is it? What am I supposed to do?"
Lira was silent for a long moment, her gaze thoughtful. "The blade is more than just a weapon," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It is a key, and a key is only as powerful as the one who unlocks it. To control the Echo, you must first understand it—not just in a logical sense, but in a deeper, more visceral way."
I frowned. "You're talking in riddles again. What do you mean, understand it?"
Lira's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "The blade is tied to the essence of magic itself. It responds to your emotions, your instincts. When you doubt yourself, it doubts you. When you fear the power you hold, it becomes as uncontrollable as the storm. And when you hesitate, it hesitates with you."
She was right. I'd felt it—the way the sword had resisted me, even in the brief moments when I tried to focus its power. It was like trying to hold onto a wild animal, unwilling to be tamed.
"You have to let go of that fear, Kaito," she continued. "Fear is the enemy of control. It clouds your judgment. It weakens you."
I swallowed, my throat dry. "You make it sound easy."
Lira smiled faintly, her eyes piercing through me like she could see the doubts swirling in my mind. "You're right. It's not easy. But nothing worth having ever is. It takes time. It takes patience. And most of all, it takes trust—trust in yourself, and trust in the blade."
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of her words. Could I trust myself? I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't even know who I was anymore. The Echo of Arcanum had thrown my life into chaos, and now, every day was a battle to hold onto something—anything—solid.
"You keep telling me I have potential," I said quietly. "But it feels like I'm just fumbling around in the dark."
Lira's gaze softened just a little, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Sometimes the darkness is where we find the light, Kaito. Sometimes, when we feel like we're at our weakest, that's when we're closest to discovering our true strength."
I looked at her, feeling a strange pull inside me. There was something about the way she spoke, something that made me want to believe her. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't telling me everything. She knew more than she was letting on.
"How do you know all this?" I asked before I could stop myself. "How do you know the blade so well?"
Her eyes darkened, just slightly. "Let's just say I've had a lot of time to learn. And some lessons are learned the hard way."
I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could speak, she raised a hand to stop me. "You're not ready for the answers to those questions, Kaito. Not yet."
I bit back my frustration and nodded. I wanted to demand answers, to know why she had been watching me, why she seemed to know more about the Echo of Arcanum than she was letting on. But I knew it wasn't the right time. Not yet.
"Fine," I said, forcing a hint of resignation into my voice. "So, what now?"
Lira's smile returned, but this time it was softer, less guarded. "Now, we train. And you begin to understand what it means to wield the Echo of Arcanum. And when you're ready, when you've faced the darkness within you, then—and only then—will you be ready to face what comes next."
With that, she turned, her cloak swirling behind her as she walked off toward the edge of the camp.
I watched her go, the firelight casting flickering shadows on her figure. Her words lingered in my mind, but the doubt that had taken root in my chest only deepened.
Could I do this? Could I ever control this power? Or was I destined to fail before I even started?
I glanced down at the Echo of Arcanum, the blade glinting in the firelight. I didn't have the answers. But one thing was certain.
I wasn't going to stop trying.