Daiden experienced a blur. His memories meshed with the existence of his sword, pulling him into a presence far from his time. He fell into a slumber. His eyes slowly opened to a new world. He felt no arms, no legs, merely his head, at the start of a long, serpentine body. Daiden lost control and resigned to the role a spectator. He hunted for information, as much as he could. To the left, he noticed an old sign.

Rebellion Grave.

Daiden adjusted to the darkness. The clouds shielded from the moonlight, and the stench of death permeated the air. The landscape resembled a forest in the permanence of autumn; the blood red leaves shimmered with an odd radiance, grass, plants, and shrubbery as well. At the base of thicker trees, Daiden noticed large, translucent minerals, clouded with impurities, but with a strong, crimson colour. Despite the stench, the forest appeared to be lush with life, soaked with and fertile from the blood and decay.

[I don’t remember when my mind was given a body. I stood apart from my brethren, with jade scales and a smaller form. I felt hurt, alienated.]

Daiden heard the voice from inside his head. He felt the slightest of emotions and embraced everything. It burdened his mind.

[Mother mentioned that I was special. I live because of her. I’m happy because of her.]

Daiden smiled. From the simplicity of thought, he recognized this chapter as a part of Takshaka’s youth.

[She rules a portion of Rebellion Grave. Every day, I admire her strong body and blood-coloured scales. I can’t gain any nourishment from the blood. My scales refuse it. I wonder if my mother lied.]

Daiden choked with sadness. As the seconds passed, his mind assimilated more closely with Takshaka. He struggled to maintain a distinction between their minds.

[I can’t eat. I can’t drink. My body refuses everything from Rebellion Grave. I can see even my mother look at me with pity now. She doesn’t think I’m going to live much longer. I feel weak. I cursed at the gods for making me jade, for making me different.]

[When the seasons changed, the forest stirred with violence. It was time for war.]

“Why?” wondered Daiden, with a pained expression.

[I hid. Mother told me I would die if I participated. Rebellion Grave needed a ruler, the old king had died. The Blood Naga, the Crimson Trolls, the Dark Goblins, they were all at war. But then something happened. I was caught by the Troll King Candidate.]

[Mother fought and pled for my release. But the Troll King Candidate refused to yield. It sought my death. I saw only anger in his eyes. He raised his cudgel and intended to smash my hungry, weak body. Mother cried.]

“Stop!” yelled Daiden, without a voice. He experienced the story as a fragment of reality. His body trembled with instinctive fear. He engraved the Troll King Candidate’s appearance into memory in that moment. His eyes traced to every detail – from the strangely red skin, to the large, hard, rounded belly, and immensely muscular limbs. Daiden felt the rage from the Troll King Candidate’s eyes gnaw at his soul, underneath thick and frizzy hair. Its wrinkled face distorted, and its cheeks yielded to hundreds of sharp teeth. The tumours across the creature’s body resembled the crimson element deeply embedded around the trees in Rebellion Grave. It was an odd sight, more so in comparison to the elegant Naga Queen Candidate, Takshaka’s mother.

[Something happened though. I watched my mother weep with happiness at the sight of a man, an outsider, with an aura of lightning.]

Daiden watched the silhouette swing an aeter-made sword, doused in blue, elemental lightning. It cut the crude cudgel without effort, and the Troll King Candidate next. When the latter slumped to the ground, lifeless, the outsider nodded with a kind expression and disappeared. But even with the departure, Daiden and Takshaka both experienced a transformation.

The residual, blue aeter coagulated and assumed a more visible form. Takshaka’s scales reverberated in its presence, and slowly absorbed the aeter without rejection. Daiden felt his once weak body, Takshaka’s body, strengthen significantly after the process. He gulped; the Naga Queen Candidate trembled in witness of the situation as well.

[Mother realized it first. She revealed the phenomenon as an act of destiny. I could absorb fragments of my greatest fascinations and make it my own. I could absorb Sword Aeter. How did I know? How did I know? When I saw that man dance with flawless form, I rejoiced with all my heart. It was sin, to think of the world outside Rebellion Grave, but my mother yielded. It was all she could do to ensure my survival. I wanted to become a swordsperson. I yearned to create something transcendental, a transcendental form!

Could I change shape, I wondered?]

Daiden’s chest hollowed as he returned to Mioverold. The last of Takshaka’s young words persisted, on a loop, in his mind. He sweated from the experience, drenched almost.

“I almost lost my individuality in there…” thought Daiden, with a sigh. He then addressed Takshaka, “I’m only allowed this much for now, is it?”

Daiden shook his head, slowly. He noticed the book disperse from his hands; it resembled the Mioveroldian Page in function. With a smile, he recounted the story and related to it. He felt a stronger bond forge between him and Takshaka – both lost, as children, yet determined for change.

“Thinking of which,” said Daiden, suddenly, in a whisper. “Something should have changed, correct?”

Daiden pulled the Mioveroldian Page and glanced at its contents. He then grinned in earnest.

[You have peeked into the truth of Takshakan Swordsmanship.]

[You now specialize the path of the sword. Your insight has allowed the transformation of your aeter.]

[You are now in possession of Sword Aeter.]

The Mioveroldian Page paused for a moment. Daiden almost put it away but caught the aeter-made page flare with more information.

[Ehedus has now recognized you as Takshaka’s Descendant. This classifies your existence in Mioverold.]

[Would you like to read the specifics?]

Daiden nodded without hesitation.

[Class: Takshaka’s Descendant (Normal)

You have inherited the will and story of a mythical being. But you are insignificant without accomplishments. Build your accomplishments and grow into a myth. Ehedus will reward you based on the epic you write.

You are mildly resistant to abnormalities. You are slowly becoming one with the sword.]

“This…this is…could I really, actually make something of myself here?” stammered Daiden. His arms weakened with anxiety; he remembered his promise, but the acknowledgement and support from Mioverold meant something else entirely. It burdened his shoulders. “I need to hurry to Mutuba Village!”

***

When the armour dropped, Aelius washed away from his role as a Godvildian High Lord. Within the walls of Sol Sanctum, he stripped from his clothing. Aura squirmed at the sight. She needed him and gasped in revelation of her intent. Her fingers trembled excitedly, as she brushed against a scarred, battle-hardened body.

Aelius gently removed Aura’s green shawl and lifted her off the ground in an embrace. He moved with concern and sharply focused on her gaze. His force pushed her onto the wall, and she dug into his back with pleasure. It didn’t bother him. She felt the warmth of his aeter flow in her body, and her face distorted to a savage, lustful expression. She didn’t want him to stop, not once he was inside her.

“There is something I must confess,” said Aelius, in a whisper, separating from a kiss. “I despise those that belittle my comrades, my brothers.”

Aura failed to comprehend the words at first. She simply moaned with satisfaction. She felt the heat more strongly in her body now, and then more, until it sparked a sense of discomfort. Aura repeated the words in her mind and screamed immediately after, almost. Her head smashed against the wall, with a hand on her mouth. She struggled and kicked at Aelius, writhing in indescribable pain.

“I must apologize; I could have made this faster, but the quality of aeter here, it’s just so poor,” said Aelius, feigning sorrow. “But the least I can do is help you finish. Right?”

In that moment, the heat tempered Aura into redness. She cried repeatedly but failed to move Aelius from her mouth. With another thrust, her body exploded, splattering blood and flesh against the walls. Without expression, Aelius quietly manipulated his aeter to burn away the stains on his body. He redressed and exited, finding Magellan at a distance from the room.

“Are you sure that was wise, High Lord?” asked Magellan, out of concern, aware fully of his master’s volatility.

“You heard Void Helena, General,” reminded Aelius, with a shrug. “Matters of the bedroom in Sol Sanctum, she couldn’t care less about it.”