Night had deepened into silence.
The stars overhead blinked faintly through a veil of drifting ash and mist, and the remains of the Temple of Shadows stood like bones beneath the sky. Eren sat alone by the altar, Akreth lying across his lap, the runes along its length now dull and dormant. Elira had gone to gather herbs from the nearby grove, leaving him with nothing but the sound of his breathing and the presence he could feel just beneath his skin.
It was a strange thing. The sword no longer felt like a weapon. It felt like a second heartbeat. Like a pair of eyes watching from inside him. He tried not to acknowledge it, but even in the silence, it spoke.
Not in words. Not in language. Just... pressure. Emotion. A hum in the marrow of his bones.
Regret. Longing. Hunger.
He placed a hand on the blade's flat, running his fingers slowly across the etchings.
"What are you really?" he whispered.
No answer.
But the sword felt warm, warmer than before. As if it had been waiting for the question.
Suddenly, the air shifted.
Eren froze. A presence swept over the clearing not physical, but undeniable. Like someone had walked across his grave.
Then
"You seek to understand me?"
The voice didn't come from the forest. It came from within him. It echoed inside his thoughts, low and calm and cold.
He clutched the sword instinctively, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Who are you?"
"No name remains. I was forged and forgotten. Buried with the first oath... broken with the last."
The runes on the blade flared briefly with a dark crimson light.
Eren felt something press against his mind like a door creaking open. Visions spilled through the gap. Shadows of ancient battles. A city burning under moonlight. A man with golden eyes standing atop a mountain of corpses, Akreth in hand. Then darkness. Endless, choking darkness.
He gasped and pulled his hand away from the sword, heart hammering.
The vision stopped.
But the presence lingered.
"You were human once," Eren said aloud, his voice trembling. "Weren't you?"
No answer.
Only silence... and sorrow.
Elira returned not long after, carrying a small pouch of herbs and a polished glass vial.
She paused when she saw his expression.
"You heard it, didn't you?"
Eren nodded slowly. "It spoke to me."
She knelt beside him, placing the pouch down with care. "It doesn't speak to everyone. Only to those it deems strong enough to bear its truth."
"What is its truth?"
She looked away for a moment, then answered, "That there's no such thing as power without price."
Eren closed his eyes, leaning back against a cracked stone pillar. "It showed me something. A city. Fire. A man with golden eyes. Was that real?"
"I think so," she said quietly. "Some of the oldest texts mention a war long before recorded history. A bearer who burned half a continent to keep a promise."
"Was that the first wielder?"
"No one knows," she replied. "But every bearer dreams of him eventually."
He let out a shaky breath. "I don't want to become that."
Elira placed the vial in his hand. "Then learn from him. Don't run from the sword. Command it. Shape it. Or it will shape you."
Eren stared at the vial its contents shimmered like liquid light and drank.
It was bitter. Then cold. Then, suddenly, warmth spread through his chest, and the pain in his ribs began to dull. Not gone, but bearable.
He stood, slightly steadier now.
"Elira."She turned to him.
"You said you once loved someone who carried the blade."
"Yes."
"What happened to him?"
Her lips parted, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she walked to the broken altar and ran her fingers across a set of markings there, almost lovingly.
"His name was Cael," she said finally. "He believed Akreth could be redeemed. That it wasn't just a curse but a soul seeking release."
Eren moved beside her. "And what did he do?"
"He searched for the origin of the sword. Followed whispers and half-truths into forgotten places. He found something. But whatever it was, it changed him."
She looked at Eren then, and her voice dropped to a whisper.
"He stopped being Cael. One day, he looked at me and didn't recognize my name."
Silence stretched between them.
"I'm sorry," Eren said.
"I don't need your sorrow," Elira replied. "I need your resolve. I couldn't save Cael, but maybe you can save yourself."
He looked back down at the blade.
"Akreth," he said softly. "I don't know what you are, or what you've seen. But if I carry you, it will be by my terms."
The runes on the blade did not glow. But they pulsed. Once. As if acknowledging his vow.
He turned to Elira. "Where do we go next?"
She smiled faintly.
"To the ruins of Serathei. Where Cael's journey ended."
"And mine begins."