Given how Galen had the most experience with, and had a strong preference for swords, he started by going towards that section. Thankfully, all the Sentient Weapons had been organized by types, which made finding the swords easier.

  As he walked towards that section, he made sure to go slowly and observe the weapons he passed. He tried to see if he sensed anything. Perhaps one would react to his presence? Or perhaps he’d feel a connection to one of them?

  Heck if I know how this is supposed to work.

  As he passed by the bow section, he broke out in a cold sweat. He silently prayed that nothing would happen.

  Because to say he absolutely sucked at using bows would be an understatement.

  When Galen had been training under his grandfather, the man had forced him to try all manner of weapons. Bows had naturally been one of them.

  Nolan Daxton had been one of the most stubborn and diligent men he had ever known. When Galen had spoken to some of his grandfather’s fellow veterans, they said the man had been too tenacious to die in circumstances that should have killed him. When his grandfather set his mind to something, absolutely nothing got in his way.

  But when Galen had tried to learn how to use bows, it became abundantly clear that he had ZERO talent with the weapon. He was, in fact, so bad that his grandfather, as stubborn and tenacious as he was, had GIVEN UP and forced him to move on to other weapons. What had probably broken the straw on the camel’s back and finally convinced him was the day Galen had nearly shot an arrow into Nolan’s crotch. Worst part is that that hadn’t been the first time it had happened…

  His ears flushed and his cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame every time he remembered that day. And they did so now as he forced himself to look down and hope that none of the Sentient Bows called out to him as he passed.

  It was a tense moment as his heart raced. He didn’t notice how he had subconsciously quickened his pace.

  Thankfully, he felt nothing as he passed by the bow section. He audibly sighed with relief as he slowed his pace back to what it was before.

  He continued to sense nothing as he walked by each section. He eventually made it to the swords, and he stopped to take in the Sentient Weapons here. There were about twenty or so swords of different kinds hanging on the wall. There were some curved swords, longswords, broadswords, large two handed greatswords, etc. He even saw katanas.

  He stared at each individual sword, trying to see if any called out to him or if he felt a compulsion of some kind. Eventually, after gazing at each sword, he felt…

  Nothing.

  Well... this sucks, Galen thought as he gazed over the swords again, I have no idea what I’m doing. What exactly is supposed to happen? I guess I’m just going to have to pick one out at random. Until I find one that... seems… good…

  Galen’s thoughts halted as he felt his gaze drawn towards a particular sword.

  Like every one of the Sentient Weapons, it had a unique design to it. It appeared to be a double-edged sword, with the blade being over three feet long. The blade itself was black in color with a silver edge. It had golden engravings along the sword in the Durainese language. The letters formed the words that were likely its name.

  Obsidian Requiem.

  The blade wasn’t too high up on the wall, so Galen could grab it if he reached up as far as he could and balanced himself on the tips of his toes.

  His hand closed around the black leather wrapped handle, and he pulled the sword from its resting place. The sword felt a bit weighty for its length, but not terribly so. He noticed the handle was long enough that he could wield the blade in two hands should he wish to.

  He did.

  The moment both hands wrapped around the handle of the blade, he felt as though something bit into his palms. He had been about to cry out, but every muscle and joint in his body suddenly locked into place.

  Aleksi and Milton had followed not far behind, and he saw out of the corners of his eyes that they had walked up to him upon noticing he had grabbed one of the swords.

  “Did you take a liking to that one, Champion?” Aleksi questioned with a jovial smile.

  Galen held the sword in a death grip. His jaw clenched shut against his will, preventing him from speaking as he felt something being pulled from his body and flowing into the blade.

  “Lad?” Aleksi asked with some alarm.

  Realizing something was wrong, his mentor had moved to remove the sword from his grip. Milton, however, had stopped him with an outstretched arm.

  “Wait!” cried out the scribe.

  “Why?!” Aleksi yelled back, incredulous.

  “The Sentient Weapon is waking up. You can sense the Ether flowing from the Champion and into the sword, can’t you?” Milton explained calmly, “it must be evaluating him. Do not interrupt.”

  With a pained look, Aleksi remained in place.

  Galen couldn’t even turn his eyeballs to look at them as something pressed against his mind.

  “Long have I slumbered…” a deep voice spoke in Galen’s mind, “such rich Ether I pull from you. Oh, to be awoken from the nothingness of sleep.”

  He couldn’t speak. He was having a hard time forming a coherent thought.

  “Though I yearned to one day be awoken,” the voice spoke before suddenly shouting with unexpected force, “I DID NOT WISH FOR THAT DAY TO BE TODAY! WHO ARE YOU?! AND WHY HAVE YOU DISTURBED MY PEACEFUL SLUMBER?!”

  Galen felt some of the forced tension begin to slowly ease, though he had broken out in cold sweat. He was finally able to form a mental response, “My name… is Galen Daxton…”

  “Galen Daxton?” the voice, no, the sword, echoed, “well Mr. Daxton… Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tear your mind asunder for disturbing me.”

  Galen began to sweat profusely. Milton hadn’t warned him that could happen!

  He’d been about to respond when he suddenly heard jovial laughter in his mind. It was another voice? No, it was the same, only not nearly as deep and far more casual sounding.

  That thought was confirmed as the sword spoke, “Ah, I’m just messing with you.”

  Galen felt his muscles and joints finally ease up. He collapsed, and would have fallen flat had he not used the sword to keep himself on his knees.

  “Whoa! Sorry about that. I’ve been napping for a real long time, so I ended up accidentally putting you through the wringer. You should be fine though… I think,” the sword said in his mind.

  It almost sounded… embarrassed?

  Can these things feel embarrassment? Galen thought.

  “Course we can! We’re Sentient Weapons! Even if I’m of the First Generation, I won’t have you looking down on me!” the sword fumed.

  Uh… sorry? Galen mentally apologized before adding with widened eyes, wait, you can hear my thoughts?!

  “Duh,” the sword gave off an impression that it was beginning to think he was an idiot, “that biting sensation you felt earlier? That was me taking a bit of your blood. That, combined with me taking in some of your Ether, established our bond as Wielder and Weapon. Did you seriously not know any of this when you picked me up?”

  Galen grit his teeth, as he mentally responded, No. My guides didn’t exactly inform me about how the process of choosing a Sentient Weapon usually goes.

  “…Well that’s shady.”

  Wait a second… Galen frowned, what was that you said about taking my blood?!

  He checked his hands as best he could considering he still couldn’t let go of the sword, and sure enough, blood was leaking from his palms. Not much mind, but it was still alarming to see.

  “Chill out. As I woke up by munchin’ on some of the Ether in ya, I analyzed your blood to check on your health. I ain’t about to let you be my Wielder if you’re gonna croak over anytime soon. It’s remarkable what you can learn about you biological types from your blood! And boy am I shocked by what I learned! For one, you got Ether Intolerance. Bummer. Didn’t think that was still a thing. Sucks to be you.”

  Galen didn’t know how to respond to all this, Okay… they warned me the first generation of Sentient Weapons had eccentric personalities… but I still wasn’t expecting this…

  “Eccentric?! Is that what they call us? How insulting! We became this way because of them I’ll have you know! I prefer the term… unique.”

  Galen shook his head. This mental conversation was getting too weird.

  “Hey, you think this is strange? Put yourself in my shoes! I’m put to sleep for a really long time, and when I wake up, an Unbound of all things is holding me! As if that wasn’t rare enough, you got a completely unique signature! I’ve had my share of Wielders, and you’re nothing like them! It’s almost like your an alien or something, but I can tell you’re still human. Talk about creepy…”

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  Okay, first off, you don’t have shoes, Galen gave the sword a look of confusion, secondly, just what are you going on about? What’s an Unbound?

  The Sentient Weapon was quiet for so long, he thought it had gone back to sleep. Then it suddenly laughed, “Seriously? You don’t know?! Man, have you been living under a rock or something?”

  Galen flushed as he glared at the sword.

  “Alright, to answer your question, I have to elaborate on something. You at least know what the Great Fragmentation is, right?”

  Yeah, of course, he answered.

  “Good! So, when the Realms were separated, there were a whole bunch of consequences and side effects as a result. Won’t get into all of them now, but the one relevant to you being an Unbound are the effects it had on Ether. Specifically, on Elemental affinities.

  You see, prior to the Great Fragmentation, people could freely use any element. Fire, Wind, Water, Earth, and Lightning. Of course, people still had genetic affinities, such as the elves with Wind, humans with Fire, dwarves with Earth, etc. But they weren’t locked out of the rest. The other elements would just be weaker than their innate one.

  However, AFTER the Great Fragmentation? Elemental Ether became sorta rooted in separate Realms. Fire for Axis Mundi, Lightning for Branlyn, etc. And with centuries of living in the Realms with only a single Element rooted in them, Ethereans gradually became locked out of the other affinities due to lack of exposure to the other elements over the centuries. Currently, with only Axis Mundi and Branlyn being linked, humans can only access Fire and/or Lightning. Basically, that genetic innate affinity got pushed to an extreme. You with me so far?”

  Galen nodded.

  “Good! Now, before I was put to sleep and stored away, there had been an extremely rare anomaly that would sometimes occur in which an Etherean wasn’t locked out of the other affinities. That’s what we call an Unbound. Someone able to access elements beyond the normal two. That trait became increasingly rare as time went on, and depending on what year it is now, it might be gone for good. At least, it should be, yet here you are.”

  Interesting, he mused, I need to ask more about this subject with Aleksi.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t know this. You must have been quite the sheltered human… Are you maybe from the Third Circle and grew up without a basic education or something?”

  Galen got the urge to throw the sword at the wall. Instead, he took a deep breath and mentally replied, Look, I’m from another world. And I’ve only been in this one for a little over four months-

  “YOU’RE FROM ANOTHER WORLD?!” the sword interrupted, “well damn! I hit the jackpot today. No wonder you feel like an alien despite being human through and through. Also explains you being an Unbound. No extended time, either ancestry wise or personally, spent in any one Realm. So the Dominion has finally decided to summon a new Champion… Interesting…”

  The Sentient Weapon huffed in his mind, “Very well! I’ve come to a decision. I’ll let you be my Wielder. If you’ll have me, that is.”

  Galen eyed the other Sentient Weapons, inactive and hanging on the wall, Are they all as weird and annoying as you?

  “Oh you think I’m bad?!” the sword cackled, yes, CACKLED in his mind, “well let me tell you New Champion. I’m pretty tame compared to some of them! Now, our minds are not quite like your fleshy, squishy brains, but some of the others are what you would call… what’s the term? Mad. Mad? Yes! Mad! That’s not their fault though. They had particularly bloodthirsty wielders in their formative years. So trust me, you can do a whole lot worse than the magnificent me!”

  Galen tilted his head, Trust you? I just met you.

  “That’s fair,” the sword admitted, “but since your handlers either don’t know a whole lot, or are keeping things from you, allow me to let you in on something. I wouldn’t recommend testing yourself with multiple Sentient Weapons. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t mean to be so intense with my prank. Imagine going through that multiple times in a row! Only, it’s a flip of the coin whether it’ll be worse or not than with me!”

  Galen had to admit that he didn’t like the idea.

  “Right?! I don’t blame ya! So how about this? Let’s do a trial run! Keep me for a while, and if we decide we’re not very compatible, then we can part ways! You go on to choose another Sentient Weapon, and I’ll either be given to another Wielder, or I’ll go back to sleep! It’s a win-win.”

  He nodded, Alright. Let’s go with that.

  He waited for the sword to stop cheering in his mind before asking, So I’ve given you my name. What’s yours?

  “What? Can’t you read? My name is literally engraved along my blade.”

  Galen’s brow twitched, but he remained calm, Yes, I CAN read. The engravings read “Obsidian Requiem.” But is that what you want to be called?

  The sword actually seemed taken aback by that, “You… you’re serious?”

  Very, Galen affirmed, I don’t know if that’s the name you chose or if that’s the one your makers gave you. But if it’s the latter, you can feel free to change it if you want. You’re a Sentient Weapon aren’t you? Then you should be able to choose a name if you’d like.

  The Sentient Weapon mulled that over, apparently not having yet recovered from the surprise. Finally, it said, “Well, I’ll be. I don’t think I’ve ever had a Wielder that considerate. I think we’ll get along just fine, Galen Daxton.”

  He nodded, Then, your name?

  “Obsidian Requiem!” the sword proudly announced.

  Are you serious?!

  “What? I don’t mind the name given to me! Or were you lying about letting me choose my name?!” the sword accused.

  No, I wasn’t. If you’re happy with that name, then okay, I guess.

  Galen was going to leave it there, but Obsidian Requiem suddenly asked him, “If you were to give me a name, what would it be? Just curious, is all.”

  He mulled it over, then an idea came to mind, Well, if you don’t mind your current name, how about a combination of them? How about Redian?

  “Meh?” the sword seemed to shrug it’s nonexistent shoulders in his mind.

  Galen once more had the urge to throw or smack the sword.

  “I’m joking! Sorta,” it protested in his mind, “although, if you want to call me that, I don’t mind! It’s certainly better than some of the prospective names my creators were considering. One of them wanted to call me Black Point! Because my blade is black and I’m pointy! How stupid is that?! So yeah, compared to that, Redian isn’t bad.”

  Galen smiled and said aloud, “Then it looks like we’re partners for now, Redian.”

  “Partners? I like that!” Redian exclaimed, “now, you should probably address the other two humans who’ve been staring at you making faces. You’ve been rudely ignoring them this whole time you’ve been talking to me.”

  Startled, Galen turned to Aleksi and Milton. He’d been so absorbed in his mental conversation with Redian that he completely forgot about his mentor and the scribe.

  They both smiled at him and raised their brows patiently. He was once more struck with the impression that they resembled each other a bit. He set that thought aside, however, “Sorry about the wait! But Milton, you didn’t say the sword could talk!”

  “I did mention how Sentient Weapons could give advice. How did you think they would do so?” Milton pointed out.

  Galen flushed.

  “You know,” Aleksi began, “I was beginning to think something was amiss when you stared at the sword making faces.”

  Galen frowned at that, “You guys didn’t hear the sword talking?”

  They both shook their heads, though Milton did it with a knowing look.

  He gave the nerdy scribe a glare, “You could’ve warned me about the whole process of how the Sentient Weapons measure prospective Wielders… and about the whole talking in your mind bit!”

  Milton tried to look sheepish, “Apologies, Champion. But the records for the First Generation were old. Given how they were made, it was entirely possible that the way they measured new Wielders became completely different than when it was last documented.”

  Is that true? Galen mentally asked Redian.

  “Oh, that’s true,” Redian confirmed before chuckling, “the ones I told you that were crazy by your human standards? They completely changed how they test their would be wielders compared to when we were all created.”

  With that confirmed Galen brought up Redian, and asked, “Is there a sheathe for him I could use somewhere in here?”

  “Him?” Milton asked with a tilt of the head, “you mean it?”

  Galen blinked, “Uh… right. Sorry, the sword is rather talkative and feels… surprisingly human. In a, ‘boy that person sure is weird’ way, but still…”

  Milton nodded in understanding, “Yes, they were made to be that way. Acting human, I mean, not the being weird part. But remember that the Sentient Weapons aren’t humans. They were made to be weapons first, and rather potent ones at that. I only say this so that you’re not surprised if the sword suggests something extreme nonchalantly. Like if you or I spoke of the weather.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Galen said nervously.

  “No need to be worried, boss!” Redian said in his mind, “like I said, I’m not as bad as the others!”

  That remains to be seen, Galen reminded the sword, also, do you just have full access to my thoughts now?! That’s kind of disturbing. It feels like I lost all sense of privacy…

  “Oh that? You don’t need to worry about that. If you don’t want me to hear something, then simply close your thoughts off from me. Best way I can describe it is like your mind is a soundproofed room. Right now it’s like you got the door wide open, so I can hear what your saying even though the room is soundproofed. Just close that door and I won’t hear anything. Swear on me mom!”

  You don’t have a mom, Galen pointed out.

  “On the contrary!” Redian protested, “the one who created and forged me was a woman! So I think that makes her my mom!”

  The sword sighed in his mind, “She was a good woman going by the average human I’ve analyzed. Maker rest her soul.”

  Galen’s jaw dropped, Did you say ‘Maker rest her soul?’

  “Yeah? It’s a saying among you humans, ain’t it?” Redian questioned.

  Oh… for a second I thought… never mind. I’m going to give this shutting you out thing a try.

  Galen tried to imagine his mind as a box, with Redian outside the open door. He imagined and mentally willed that door to close.

  He waited a moment. Then, as a test, he threw several mental insults at the sword.

  When Redian didn’t respond, he then thought about puppies. Then he mentally willed the door to open, and asked the sword, So, what was I just thinking about?

  “Uh… I don’t know. Blowing stuff up? You humans seem to like doing that sort of thing last I remember,” Redian guessed.

  The answer seemed genuine enough. Given what he’d gleamed from it so far, Galen figured if the sword had caught even a wind of the insults he had thrown, that Redian would have given him an earful in retaliation.

  Okay, good to know that works. I’m closing the metaphorical door now.

  “I’ll be here if you need me! Or if you get lonely,” Redian gave the impression of waving goodbye as Galen closed the mental connection.

  It was strange, but he could still feel the connection there in his mind, ready to be tapped into whenever he wished.

  Galen turned back to Aleksi and Milton. His mentor gave him a half smile, “Looked like you were having another conversation with that blade. You done now?”

  He nodded, flushing over the fact that he had forgotten about the two again.

  “Good!” Aleksi turned to Milton, “seems like we’re done here.”

  “It appears so,” Milton nodded, “now, if you don’t mind, Champion, allow us to take the sword to run some maintenance on it and ensure everything is in working order. It has been here dormant for a very long time, after all.”

  Galen nodded, and handed Redian over to Milton.

  The scribe smiled, and then sheepishly pulled out the blindfolds again.

  Galen and Aleksi groaned at that, and the scribe gave them an apologetic smile.

  At least he had a new weapon he couldn’t wait to test.