Chapter 6 The Weight Of Secrets

The cave of the hermit grew darker as he spoke, and his voice wove on, the tale of power and peril. Nervousness tingled up Mina's spine with every sitting word as she leaned closer to Kaiza. “The Blade of the Abyss is shackled by an ancient pact,” the hermit said, his frail fingers carving patterns in the air. “Its power is born of the blood of those who stood against the gods. To use it to its full effect, you must earn the right to it. It demands sacrificing a piece of you that you can never get back.” Kaiza’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of sacrifice?” The hermit’s expression turned grave. “That depends on the wielder. The sword will take a toll for what it most desires from you. For others, it is what makes them weak. For the others, their memories or their humanity.” Mina tightened her grip on Kaiza’s arm. “There has to be another way. We can’t keep giving pieces of ourselves to something so … so dangerous.” The hermit shook his head. “The blade is not simply a tool. It is a living force. If you want to reverse your curse, you’ll have to face the price of your wanting.” The fire in the cave’s hearth crackled as Kaiza and Mina stepped outside to talk strategy. Above them, the stars glittered coldly, indifferent to their plight. Mina hugged herself, shivering as the night air penetrated her bones. “Kaiza, we can’t trust him,” she said, her voice only a whisper. “My goodness, what if the blade takes something from you that you need in order to live? Kaiza’s expression was grim. “Centuries have passed, Mina, since I drew breath. I’ve lost more than I can count already. If there’s even a chance that this blade can end my curse, I must try.” There were tears in Mina’s eyes, unshed. “But what about me? I… I can’t do this alone. If the knife takes you from me …” She could feel Kaiza's hand on her shoulder, steady and reassuring. “You won’t be alone. Whatever it takes, I’ll make you safe.’” She turned away, the emotions battling inside her. “I don’t want to lose you, Kaiza. You’re all I have left.” He didn’t answer right away, staring out at the horizon. The weak light of the dawn started to crawl into the mountains, and the floor of the sky became golden and crimson. “We are going to do this together,” he said finally. “But we should be prepared for whatever comes next.” The next morning, the hermit took them deeper inside the cave. The air hung cooler, and the walls felt as if they were crushing in on her; the needles of fungi cast their weak illumination. Finally, they arrived at a chamber featuring a pedestal, its surface covered with faintly pulsing runes. “Here, place this blade,” the hermit’s voice was reverent. “The pedestal will cause the first trial to be visible.” Kaiza, his hand on the hilt of the Blade of the Abyss, paused. He looked at Mina, who nodded reluctantly. He drew the weapon and placed it on the pedestal. The runes ignited, illuminating the shadows that danced eerily throughout the chamber. A low rumble roared through the cave as the pedestal started to sink. The air thickened, and a voice, low and resonant, filled the room. Kaiza, bearer of the Abyss, you seek redemption. To lay claim to it, you must confront the sins of your past. Step forward and let the trial begin.” Kaiza’s jaw tightened. “Stay here,” he told Mina before moving into the circle of light that had come to rest around the pedestal. Kaiza stood in a familiar place. It was a village, its streets filled with simple wooden houses. The smoke and ash hung heavy in the air. He recognized it immediately. “No,” he whispered, as his heart sank. “Not here.” The village was where one of his worst failures was located. Years before, in a last-ditch effort to shield its citizens from savage raiders, he had unleashed a power he couldn’t tame. The devastation left in its wake had taken a staggering toll on human life, reducing the village to rubble. Ashen figures stalked from the light, their faces contorted with pain and rage. They were his villagers he hadn’t saved, their shapes translucent and ghostlike. “You just left us,” one of them said with a sorrowful tone. “You came to protect us but brought only devastation.” Kaiza’s chest tightened. “I had no intention of it happening. I tried to save you.” A girl stepped forward, holding a tattered doll. “Your good intentions don’t mean a damn. We trusted you, and you broke that trust.” Kaiza dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his hands. “I… I’m sorry. I’ve borne this guilt for centuries. If I could undo it, I would.” They surrounded him, whispering words, shouting things. He felt the weight of their pain pressing down on him. “Kaiza!” Mina’s voice rose above the din, sharp and clear. He glanced up, and there she was, at the very edge of the vision, with blazing determination in her eyes. “You don’t have to go through that alone,” she said, crossing into the pool of light. “You’ve done something—whatever it is you’ve done, you’ve spent centuries trying to atone for it. That has to mean something.” The spectral forms faltered, their shapes unstable. The young girl’s stare relaxed. “Your remorse is genuine. Maybe… there is still hope for you after all.” The figures blurred, and their voices lingered. “Seek redemption, Kaiza. But remember, it’s a path, not a destination. In the blink of an eye, that vision faded, and Kaiza was once more in the chamber. The Blade of the Abyss pulsed faintly on the pedestal, its surface unmarred. Mina rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but his face looked pale. “I… I believe I passed the first trial.” A voice of the hermit broke the silence. “The blade has embraced your resolution, but your path is not yet at an end. Each trial will challenge a new aspect of yourself. Get ready, because the next will not be so forgiving.” Kaiza straightened; determination emboldened him. “We’ll be ready.” Mina looked at him, concern written on her face. She couldn’t ignore the fact that whatever the blade’s trials were steering them toward was far blacker than either of them could fathom. But for the moment, they had no other option than to move forward.