Clan Forestbloom, a noble family that has lasted for more than 100 years, is famous for the sword style of the same name. They have served the royal family of Windshire for all those years. The head of the family, a wood elf by the name of Chikara Forestbloom, recently had his arm twisted to help the owl soldiers get close to the palace so they could get to the obelisk; the family sword was taken by the soldiers and kept in an old, abandoned mansion somewhere.
Finvir, Aster, and the Forestbloom twins walked through the winding roads of Kawa until they reached the edge of town. Finvir asked the twins, “ So where is this sword?”
Derron looked back at the two “My sister and I have discovered that it is being held inside an old abandoned noble home just a few miles away.” He pointed towards the woods “We should get there around noon if we are fast enough.” Salena nodded in agreement
“Alrighty kids! Field trippppppp!” Finvir called in a happy-go-lucky tone and started walking towards where Derron pointed, they walked for a few hours, and by the time they reached the old mansion, the sun was high in the sky.
The once-majestic building shows signs of age and neglect, with its wooden beams weathered and darkened by time. Moss and ivy scale the walls, wrapping around the wooden lattice of the shōji doors, some of which are torn or hanging askew. The roof's curved, black tiles are chipped and cracked, with patches missing, exposing the wooden understructure.
The mansion's sliding doors and windows are partly open, creaking softly in the wind. Sometimes, they sway in synchronization, creating an off-putting harmony, if you can call it that. Fallen leaves blanket the stone path leading to the entrance, framed by a broken torii gate partially hidden by overgrown bushes. The garden, once carefully maintained, has become wild and unruly, with tall grasses and bamboo shoots encroaching on the pathways.
All four of them crouched down and hid behind a tree as they watched the owl soldiers walk around the abandoned estate.
“So how do we want to do this?” Aster asked as he counted how many there were outside
Finvir put his finger in a thinking motion and smiled as he started to explain his plan “So we will have the twins and you assault the front to distract them while I use my blink to get to the second floor.” he looked at Salena “That is where you said the spies found it right?” She nodded and Finvir continued “So they will be too focused on you three to notice me slip in, get the sword, and slip out.”
They all nodded at his plan while Finvir smiled and pushed them out of their hiding spot as he climbed into the tree. “See you all after this.” With that, he jumped from the tree and into another towards the dilapidated estate
Aster took a deep breath and joined Salena and Derron as they walked towards the building. Derron yelled out getting all the owl soldiers' attention, “MY NAME IS DERRON FORESTBLOOM, AND I AM HERE TO RECLAIM MY FAMILY'S SWORD!”
The Soldiers looked at each other and laughed loudly, one of the men walked towards him and laughed “Look kid, we don’t give a rat's ass if you were the emperor's son so why don't you run off and go play with traitor papa~” The man put his hand on Derron’s head and push, but instead of getting the desired effects. The man screams out as his hand flies off and lands below him on the ground.
The owl soldier stared in shock at his severed hand, blood spurting onto the overgrown path. Derron didn’t hesitate—he spun, katana flashing, and sliced the man’s throat. Around them, the other soldiers froze, their jeers dying as their comrade crumpled.
“Now!” Salena barked.
Aster’s fingers trembled as they drew a dagger across their palm. Blood welled, shimmering crimson before hardening into jagged spikes. With a flick of their wrist, the projectiles tore into two soldiers’ legs, sending them sprawling.
Chaos erupted. Derron and Salena moved in tandem, blades whirling like storm winds, parrying strikes and carving through armor. Aster ducked behind a moss-crusted statue, their breath ragged. Focus. Like Finvir taught you. They pressed a bloody hand to the earth, and tendrils of scarlet snaked across the ground, tripping a charging soldier.
From the rooftop, Finvir watched the skirmish below, a faint smirk tugging his lips. Kid’s got grit. He turned to the shattered window, its paper panes fluttering like ghostly wings. The void mark on his hand pulsed as he blinked inside, landing soundlessly in a corridor choked with dust.
The mansion’s interior reeked of mildew and iron. Faded tapestries depicting cherry blossoms hung in tatters, and the floorboards groaned underfoot. He crept forward, ears straining. Muffled voices echoed ahead—two guards, arguing.
“—stupid sword’s cursed, I tell ya. Saw it glowing last night.”
“Shut it. Brown’ll skin us alive if we lose it.”
Finvir peered around the corner. The guards stood before a rusted iron door, their owl masks tilted in agitation. He squeezed his sword hilt, the blade extending with a whisper.
A flicker of movement. One guard gasped as Finvir materialized behind him, sword plunging into his ribs. The second fumbled for his weapon, but Finvir’s dagger found his throat before a scream could escape.
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He rifled through their keys, unlocked the door, and froze.
The room was a shrine—candles dripping black wax, walls scrawled with void runes. At the center, on a pedestal of bone, lay Tsubaki. The blade gleamed unnaturally, its steel veined with obsidian threads. A low hum filled the air, vibrating in Finvir’s teeth.
“Well, ain’t you a pretty little trouble,” he muttered, reaching for the hilt.
The moment his fingers closed around it, the runes flared. Shadows lashed like serpents, slamming him into the wall. His vision blurred, and a voice—cold, ancient—rasped in his mind:
“ Mine. ”
(Outside)
Aster ducked as a sword whistled overhead. They countered with a blood-whip, slicing the attacker’s cheek, but more soldiers surged forward. Derron and Salena fought back-to-back, their katanas a blur, but fatigue dulled their strikes.
“Where’s Finvir?!” Salena shouted, parrying a blow.
A scream tore from the mansion’s upper floor. The ground trembled, and cracks splintered the walls. Black tendrils erupted through the roof, writhing against the sky.
Aster’s blood ran cold. “Oh gods—he triggered a ward!”
The twins exchanged grim looks. “Go!” Derron ordered. “We’ll hold them off!”
Aster sprinted for the mansion, dread clawing their throat. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.
Finvir’s POV
I writhed, the void’s grip crushing his ribs. The sword’s hum crescendoed, and the shadows coalesced into a figure—a specter with hollow eyes and a crown of thorns.
“ Thief, ” it hissed.
“Not… stealing…” I choked out. “Borrowing!”
I focused on the mark, feeling the void’s chill surge through me. With a roar, I pushed. The shadows recoiled, and for a heartbeat, the pressure eased. I lunged, seizing Tsubaki and smashing it against the pedestal.
The blade shrieked. The specter dissolved into smoke, and the runes dimmed.
Panting, I staggered to my feet. The sword’s obsidian veins had faded, but its edge still gleamed wickedly. “Note to self,” I wheezed, “ask more questions before grabbing cursed antiques.”
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Aster burst in, eyes wide. “You’re alive!”
“Disappointed?” I tossed them the sword. “Wrap that thing up. We’re leaving.”
Below, the twins dispatched the last soldier. Derron glanced up, nodding as Aster and me descended.
“Did you—?” Salena began.
“Yep. And it’s a chatty one,” I grumbled, rubbing my bruised neck. “Let’s cash in before it decides to redecorate my insides.”
As we retreated, Aster glanced back. The mansion’s shadows twitched, as if something watched.
Narrator’s POV
(A hour later at the Kawa the adventurer's guild)
The guild hall buzzed with its usual clamor—adventurers swapping tales over steaming teacups, clerks stamping quest permits, and the faint clatter of practice blades from the training yard. But as Finvir shouldered open the heavy oak doors, the room fell silent. All eyes snapped to the blood-splattered quartet, their clothes torn and singed, and the sword in Aster’s trembling hands.
Tsubaki pulsed faintly in the sunlight filtering through the paper lanterns, its obsidian veins glinting like cracks in reality.
“By the gods,” whispered a grizzled Nord at the bar, ale sloshing over his tankard. “That’s the Forestblossom blade.”
Derron and Salena strode ahead, chins high, but Finvir lingered in the doorway. His void mark burned icy-hot beneath his glove—a warning. Aster hovered close, their pink eyes darting between the staring crowd and the sword.
Chikara Forestblossom emerged from the back office, his silk robes sweeping across the tatami. The clan patriarch’s stern face faltered as he saw Tsubaki. “You… retrieved it.”
“Not without drama,” Finvir grunted, nudging Aster forward. “Kid did most of the heavy lifting.”
Aster flushed but placed the sword into Chikara’s outstretched hands. The moment the patriarch gripped the hilt, the guild’s lanterns flickered. A low groan echoed through the rafters, and the mural above—a battle between dragons and samurai—rippled as if alive.
Chikara staggered, his knuckles whitening. “The curse… it’s still tethered to something.”
Finvir’s jaw tightened. Of course it is.
Before he could speak, Seldom shouldered through the crowd, his hulking frame parting adventurers like wheat. “Let’s see that blade, old friend.” He snatched Tsubaki and squinted at its edge. “Yep. Void-touched. Smells like Inanis’s cheap cologne.” He tossed it back to Chikara. “Stick it in a sanctified vault.”
Chikara nodded stiffly, but his gaze lingered on Finvir. “You’ve drawn unwanted attention, outsider. The owl soldiers will come for you now.”
“They were already coming,” Finvir shrugged. “Might as well give ’em a good show.”
Aster tugged his sleeve. “The reward…?”
Aster’s POV
The guild clerk slid a jingling pouch across the counter, her smile strained. “Fifty petals, as promised. And…” She stamped my adventurer card with a flourish. “Congratulations, E-1!”
I beamed, tracing the freshly inked rank. E-1! I'd jumped a grade in hours. But my triumph faded as they glanced at Finvir.
He leaned against a pillar, face ashen, absently massaging his gloved hand. The void mark’s corruption had spread—thin black tendrils now peeked above his collar, creeping toward his jawline.
“Master?” I approached, voice small. “Your… neck.”
Finvir jerked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar.” Seldom loomed behind them, arms crossed. “That’s void rot. You’ve got maybe a year before it eats your brain.”
“Thanks for the optimism,” Finvir snarled, but Seldom grabbed his wrist, yanking the glove off. The mark seethed like a living bruise, its edges clawing up his veins.
Seldom whistled. “You’re leaking chaos, mate. Better fix that before you go brain dead.”
“How?!” I blurted.
Seldom grinned. “Find the source. That Obelisk Brown’s after? Rumor says it’s a void anchor—could stabilize his mark. Or kill him faster.” He winked. “Fun gamble, eh?”
Finvir snatched his glove back. “We’re done here.”
(Later, at the Guild Stables)
Derron and Salena bowed deeply as Finvir tightened his horse’s saddle. “Our clan is in your debt,” Derron said. “If you seek the Obelisk, we’ll aid you.”
Finvir waved them off. “Save the heroics. Just keep Brown off our backs.”
As the twins departed, I fidgeted with my new E-1 badge. “So… to the capital?”
Finvir stared northwest, where storm clouds gathered over the Emperor’s palace. “Yep. Time to crash a royal coup.”
I opened their journal, scribbling furiously. Void anchors. Obelisks. Leaking chaos. “Will it hurt? Stabilizing your mark, I mean.”
Finvir mounted his horse. “Everything hurts, kid. You just get used to it.”
Narrator POV
As they rode into the dusk, neither noticed the owl perched atop the guild’s torii gate. It cocked its head, eyes glowing void-black, and took flight—straight toward Brown’s camp.