Shenian brought her dad, Falyar, to the edge of the forest. It was still night. She observed carefully the clearing illuminated by a lantern above the door to the house, her bow ready.

"There!" she pointed at the bench where the lower half of Kaldir's body sat, cut at the waist.

"Oh my stripes, you were right!" Falyar grumbled in utter shock. "Is that, is it really Kaldir?" he asked his daughter with disbelief in his voice.

She slowly nodded and searched with her eyes for Kaldir's upper torso.

Then a Lynxarian walked out of the house, his shoulders slumped.

"I will end him right now!" Falyar muttered and touched the ornamented handle of his sword.

"No, father, wait!" Shenian pleaded, "It wasn't him, this one has already killed the murderer, look!" and she pointed at a human, lying dead nearby.

"Are you sure, Shenian?" Falyar asked.

"I am, father. I saw the fight. I mean, look at him. His eyes are haunted, back bent forward, his step heavy. That is a man who has just lost everything. It must be Hewin, we need to help him," Shenian begged her father.

"We'll see about that, come on," Falyar replied and they emerged from the tree line.

Hewin stood in front of the house of his parents feeling numb. He did not dare to visualize in his mind what he just saw inside. He was sure he would go mad, or maybe he already was. My mom and dad are gone, the feeling washed over him and left him trembling. Just after his father explained to Hewin why he was sold to slavery, and before going through the process of forgiving his parents, Flesha took them from him. Why did Flesha act so strange? Why did he speak in a different language?

"Hey, you there!" a voice came from the dark.

With his feline eyes, Hewin was able to see in the night. He saw two Lynxarians approaching slowly. One was a tall man with black fur covered by white stripes. He was majestic and carried a sword at his waist. Next to him, a young girl with pitch-black fur and glowing green eyes stepped lightly, a bow in her hand.

Hewin recognized them. It was Falyar, Enyar's father. And the girl was Shenian. Hewin realized, he did remember her. But he was suddenly very confused about which memories were attached to Enyar and which of them to Shenian. His head began to hurt and throb.

"Mr. Falyar, Shenian. I...I don't know if you remember me but I am Hewin, son of..," Hewin turned to the house, then burst into tears, fell on his knees, and started to shake terribly.

"Steady, boy, steady," Falyar spoke calmly and hugged him. Falyar saw this many times when he served in the royal guard. Boys who saw too few winters, their souls crushed by the terrors they saw in battle. It was of no use to ask them directly, to try to snap them out of it forcefully. Usually, it helped to tell a story or some nonsense, just to provide a thread of normality that the wounded mind could lean into and climb back to sanity. And movement, that helped too.

"I see you have a sword as well. Swords have stories to tell, you know. We can go slowly to our house and I'll tell you about mine. Then, if you want, you can tell me about yours," Falyar spoke. Hewin was still shaking but met Falyar's eyes and did not protest. Falyar lifted him up slowly and Shenian jumped in to support him from the other side. They started to walk, carefully step by step, Hewin hanging onto them looking to the ground.

"I can make a mint tea at home, father," Shenian proposed.

"Good idea, that will help you, Hewin," Falyar agreed and continued:

"So about my sword. It is one hell of a sword, Hewin. It was made a long time ago by Dagovan Starfriend for Shudan, the king of Lynxarians. To create a weapon for his mighty ruler, Dagovan tamed a star and borrowed its light to forge the sword. The king named it Lynxbright after he had slain hordes of enemies in battle, for when the sword touched flesh, it radiated light. The king had a gift of foresight and he saw in the future that Lynxarians will suffer, living at the edge of society and being exploited by humans. To avoid such destiny, Shudan tried to turn every corner of the world into his empire for the Lynxarians. But soon the light of the sword began to fade until it was totally lifeless when it cut down the king’s enemies. Eventually, rust covered the blade despite the king’s efforts to clean it. Shudan, disappointed with the sword, threw Lynxbright angrily away after the battle at Samarhund where he had suffered terrible losses from the human armies. But this, Hewin, was according to Lynxbright’s plan, for it was meant to be used for a just cause, not for darkness and endless slaughter. Thus, it waited for a different master, covered by rust and forgotten on the battlefield.

After a decade of sleep, Lynxbright shook off the rust and made itself visible by shining brightly. A wandering hermit almost stumbled over the hilt protruding from the ground. He took the sword to his tent nearby and used the glistening blade as a mirror when he regularly shaved his head and beard. However, he was old and died after two summers, leaving Lynxbright hanging in the tent. But Lynxbright didn’t mind. It was pleasant to serve a peaceful purpose after years of cutting flesh in Shudan’s hands. Now it was rested and ready to move.

Next winter, there was a snowstorm and Lynxbright was not hopeful that somebody would find him until the spring. But it was lucky. Xylandra, a monster hunter, found the hermit’s tent when seeking shelter from the storm. She was a human, and Lynxbright felt happy when she took it with her the next day, for the sword sensed that Xylandra’s main drive was to make the world a little bit safer. Lynxbright was particularly proud when it cut the head of a werewolf that molested several mountain villages. The beast almost had Xylandra on its claws but Lynxbright blinded the werewolf by coming alight at the right moment. There, the sword learned that it was able to be radiant even before cutting into the flesh of its master’s foe. For years, Lynxbright was Xylandra’s pride. The blade became notorious and since those times is known as Lynxbright, the Ender of Terrors.

But, in its heart, Lynxbright knew Xylandra isn’t immortal and it felt the urge to return home to Lynxarians. The sword wanted to give them a second chance. However, despite Lynxbright’s wish to return, it was patient, for it knew time is a precious commodity only for living things. So it continued to help Xylandra in her work until the day came. Xylandra descended into a valley with a ghoul’s head in her backpack and met a group of hungry and desperate Lynxarians. It was as Shudan predicted and probably as Shudan caused himself by his campaign, Lynxarians were at the bottom of the food chain, hunted by vengeful humans and their civilization huddled on the small island of Waterrest. But Xylandra herself did not have any quarrel with Lynxarians as she knew from her line of work that some individuals are monsters and others not, whatever race they were. So she camped with the Lynxarians, shared food with them, and exchanged stories. They were, of course, curious about her sword. She drew it and Lynxbright flashed with golden light to get everyone’s attention. Seeing it, the Lynxarians dropped to their knees and clasped their hands together in prayer. They knew this sword and its origin in the forge of Dagovan Starfriend. They asked Xylandra if they can touch it and when she agreed, the sword shone even brighter. The monster hunter saw it as a sign. A sign that maybe she is getting old for this profession, a sign that Lynxbright, the Ender of Terrors, has the chance to return home and so should she. She told the Lynxarians that she wouldn’t need the sword anymore since she wanted to spend her last years in peace and joy from a work well done. Xylandra offered them the blade on the condition that it will be used to protect, not to destroy. They accepted the tremendous gift and Lynxbright illuminated their journey to Waterrest. When they arrived, they were celebrated as heroes and the sword returned to the royal palace. However, since the new king Amargast was anxious about repeating Shudan’s history and wanted to honor Xylandra’s request, Lynxbright was entrusted to the royal guard. There it came to me and I take care of it to this day," Falyar gently tapped the hilt.

Hewin was no longer shaking. He was walking almost by himself. Seeing that it helped lift Hewin's spirits, Falyar asked: "How did you get your sword?"

Hewin slowly lifted his head and whispered: "I found it inside the anvil boulder after I had recited a strange inscription."

Falyar raised an eyebrow: "Well, that sounds like the beginning of a big story, boy."