AmethYst

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Time for what?" Lilith murmured, her brow furrowing.

Crimson grinned mischievously. "A lot happened while you were out," he teased.

Before Lilith could press for details, Crimson's eyes caught the gleam of the sword in Lilith's hands. His posture straightened, curiosity lighting up his face. "Wait... did Lance give you that?" he asked, pointing at the sheathed weapon.

"Yes," Lilith replied simply, her tone carrying a hint of pride.

Crimson extended a hand eagerly. "Can I see it?"

Before he could touch the sword, Lilith pulled it back sharply, her glare like a warning shot. Crimson froze, then retreated a step with a sheepish grin. "Sorry," he muttered.

Lilith, ignoring him, turned her attention to Miles. She stepped forward and held the sword out with both hands, her stance reverent. "For you," she said gently, her voice laced with an earnestness that made Miles lift his head.

He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, "What is this?"

Lilith smiled warmly. "The sword my brother made for you," she explained.

Miles hesitated, then reached out to grasp the hilt. He turned it over in his hands, his expression shifting to awe.

"Hmm, this one's way better than any of the junk Crimson ever conjured up for me," Miles said, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"Excuse me—" Crimson started indignantly, but Lilith silenced him with a sharp glare. He crossed his arms, mumbling something under his breath.

"Unsheathe it!" Lilith exclaimed, her excitement breaking through her calm exterior.

Miles obliged, sliding the blade free.

The katana was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The tsuba was shaped like a dragon's open maw, the blade emerging from it as if forged in the creature's fire. The steel gleamed with intricate patterns—fire, lightning, and water swirled along its length, their artistry so vivid they seemed alive.

Miles tilted the blade, marvelling. "This is... odd for a katana. The handle's sharp at the end, like a harpoon. What's with that?"

Before Lilith could respond, Miles brushed his finger against the pointed end.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, jerking his hand back. A drop of blood pooled on his fingertip.

Lilith stepped closer. "What is it?"

"It pricked me!" Miles replied, frowning at the weapon.

The blood was drawn into the blade as if consumed by some unseen force. The etched patterns began to glow, each taking on its elemental hue—the fire burned in a vivid red, lightning sparked in electric blue, and the water shimmered in soft aquamarine.

The cave was bathed in the light of the sword's power. The air hummed with energy.

Miles's grip faltered, and he dropped the sword. The blade hit the ground with a metallic clang, the glowing patterns fading instantly.

"What just happened?" Miles asked, his voice shaky as he stared at the now-dormant katana.

Lilith bent to pick up the sword, her expression serious. "Looks like it's bound to the one who wields it. Maybe it's chosen you."

Crimson, still lingering near the shadows, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's cursed," he muttered.

Lilith shot him a glare. "It's not cursed."

Miles met her gaze, his hand still trembling. "Then what is it?"

Lilith's eyes softened. "It's your strength, Miles. You just have to trust it... and yourself."

The moment hung heavy in the air, the echoes of the sword's power still lingering like a storm waiting to break.

Lilith carefully placed the sword back in Miles's hands, her fingers brushing his briefly. Miles slid the blade into its sheath with a smooth, deliberate motion, then turned to her with a soft smile. "Thank you," he said quietly, before casting a sidelong glance at Crimson.

"Honestly, Crimson, how come you can't conjure up anything like this?" Miles teased, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Crimson rolled his eyes dramatically, arms still folded across his chest. Miles. My mana doesn't allow for anything fancy.

Lilith, unable to hold back, giggled at Crimson's frustration. "It's true," she said, voice light. "Crimson's mana doesn't work like that. He's more about brute strength than enchanting things."

Miles gave Crimson an exaggerated look of pity. "Oh, so no dragon-themed katanas for you, huh?"

"Let's get going!" Crimson exclaimed as he led the way out of the cave, with Lilith right behind him. But Miles stayed back. Crimson turned to him, "Aren't you coming?"

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The light in Miles's eyes darkened, his expression deadly serious. "No," he said, his voice flat, cutting through the moment. "We're not leaving yet. Not until I kill Grey."