That night, Leia sought solace in sleep, her arms enveloping Xander in a tight embrace. Tears silently cascaded down her cheeks, betraying the burden of emotions she carried even in slumber. Xander lay awake, nestled in his mother's embrace, his mind swirling with a tumultuous mix of thoughts and emotions.
Evelyn's words from their last encounter echoed in his mind, lingering like an unspoken riddle waiting to be unraveled. They danced alongside the new, unknown feeling stirring within him, an unfamiliar sensation he couldn't quite place. It was an uncharted territory of emotions that surfaced amidst the chaos of the day.
As Leia slept, unaware of her tears, Xander found himself enveloped in silent introspection, contemplating the uncertainties that now clouded his life. He mulled over Evelyn's cryptic remarks, wondering about their significance and what role they might play. Alongside those thoughts, the inexplicable emotion tugging at his heart weighed heavily on his young mind, a silent companion in the stillness of the night.
Needing to clear his mind, Xander delicately removed his mother's hand from his embrace, ensuring not to disturb her slumber. He gently descended from the bed, landing soundlessly on the floor, and silently made his way out of the room. The night welcomed him with its cool embrace as he stepped outside, the weight of the recent events still lingering in his thoughts.
Alone in the quiet courtyard, he wrapped himself in a cover and strolled beneath the starlit sky. But this time, the solitude felt deeper, more profound, as if he was truly alone with his thoughts without anyone following him.
As he wandered, a chance encounter presented itself – the presence of two passing guards patrolling engaged in a conversation.
Xander, concealed in the shadows, overheard snippets of their discussion. "Can you believe the lord wants to hire some new man servants just to make more children with our existing maids?" one guard remarked, prompting a bemused response from his companion. "Well, the lord might get into trouble if they don't provide more manpower as the king demands when the time comes," the other guard reasoned.
A tinge of disdain colored the first guard's words. "Damn, luckily we are not below than average," he muttered. The second guard dismissed the matter with a nonchalant tone, "It's their problem to think for." As the guards moved away from Xander's concealed vantage point, he absorbed the unintentional revelation about the lord's intentions, further adding to the complexity of the unfolding narrative.
Feeling a sense of safety, Xander emerged from his concealment and continued his solitary journey. This time, his steps led him beyond the familiar grounds of his usual haunts. He ventured into a nearby wide field, its expanse secluded from prying eyes and shielded by the curtain of night.
Standing alone in the vast openness, Xander paused and cast his gaze upward. 'Blackrose, come to me," with a subtle gesture, he beckoned towards the expansive night sky, as if calling out to something unseen. The field, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, became a canvas for his silent contemplation. The rustling of grass and the distant hum of the night created a symphony of solitude around him.
He waited in the stillness of the night, hoping for some response to his silent call, but as minutes passed without any sign, Xander began to relent, resigning himself to the quiet solitude once more. As he turned to leave the tranquil field behind, a sudden, unexpected occurrence shattered the serene atmosphere.
A projectile hurtled towards him with remarkable speed, impacting the ground with a tremendous force that sent shockwaves through the once-peaceful landscape. Reacting swiftly, Xander managed to evade the collision by sidestepping away from the immediate danger. In the center of the impact crater lay a backsword, firmly embedded into the earth.
A smile tugged at Xander's lips, a glimmer of recognition and intrigue dancing in his eyes. It seemed that despite inhabiting this new form, some remnants of his old power lingered within him.
With a sense of curiosity and determination, he strode towards the black sword, intending to retrieve it. He grasped the hilt firmly and attempted to wrench it from the ground, trying various angles and exerting all his strength, yet the sword remained steadfast, firmly anchored within the earth. Despite his efforts, the blade refused to yield.
Seated amidst a mix of disappointment and nostalgia, Xander's heart sank with a sense of loss. The sword, once his trusted companion through the tumultuous ages of his reign as the Demon Lord, now seemed to reject his touch. Despair weighed heavy upon him, an unexpected pang of abandonment squeezing his heart.
Yet, as he reminisced about the person he once was, a spark of determination flickered within him. Rising from his desolate state, Xander steadied himself and once again gestured towards the backsword known as Blackrose. With a firm resolve, he uttered a single word: "Thorn..."
In response to his call, black petals resembling roses materialized around the sword, swirling and converging before shooting toward his outstretched hand. As the petals settled, a transformation occurred - in his grasp now lay a sleek black dagger. Xander gazed at the dagger with satisfaction and acceptance. "Well, this might suffice for now," he murmured to himself, contemplating the significance of this newfound weapon.
Unbeknownst to him, a presence lingered in the shadows, an observer silently watching his every move. However, that revelation was reserved for another time, a mystery yet to unfold in the intricacies of fate. With a sense of purpose, Xander walked away, the faint moonlight casting a mysterious glow around him as he ventured into the shroud of the night.