I walked back into the village, the blade still pulsing in my hand, its faint whispers a constant presence in the back of my mind. My body felt heavy, like I'd run miles with no rest. The fight with the marauders had taken everything out of me, and the sword had drained whatever strength I had left. As I passed by the familiar cottages and market stalls, I noticed the villagers staring at me some in awe, others with fear. I couldn't blame them. I wasn't the same person who had left for the caves. There was something different about me now. Something darker.

I tried to ignore the whispers, the weight of the sword pulling at me. I could feel its power, both the light and the dark, fighting for dominance. But I couldn't think about that now. I needed rest. I needed—

Marco?" A soft voice cut through the noise in my head, stopping me in my tracks.

I turned, blinking through the haze of exhaustion, and saw him standing near the well. I didn't recognize him at first, though there was something familiar in the delicate curve of his face, the way his eyes sparkled with curiosity. He was… beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. His dark hair, long and wavy, framed his face perfectly, and he wore a soft, flowing tunic in pale lavender that fell gracefully to his knees, cinched with a thin belt. His features were gentle, almost feminine, with high cheekbones and lips that curved into a subtle smile.

"I—I saw what you did," he said, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on the sword. "You saved the village."

I felt a flush rise to my face. It wasn't just from the compliment—there was something about him that made my heart race. "I… did what I had to," I replied, my voice sounding more hoarse than I intended. "I'm not sure I know what's going on anymore."

His gaze softened, and he took another step forward. "I'm sure you did. It's just—" He hesitated, glancing at the blade. "That sword… it's different, isn't it?"

I couldn't help but smile at his caution. "That's one way to put it."

He moved closer still, until he was standing right in front of me. His presence was calming, like a cool breeze on a summer day. "I'm Elias," he said, offering me a small, delicate hand. His fingers were slender, his nails neatly kept and painted a soft pink. "I live on the edge of the village. I've… heard of you, but I don't think we've ever met."

I shook his hand, surprised by how soft his skin was. "Marco. But… you already knew that." I smiled, feeling the tension in my chest ease for a moment. He smiled back, and for a second, the weight of the sword didn't feel so heavy.

"I did," Elias said with a playful glint in his eye, letting his hand linger in mine for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. "But I didn't know you were… well, like this."

"Like what?" I asked, a little unsure of what he meant.

"Brave," he said simply, his smile widening. "I mean, facing those marauders and that sword… it must've been terrifying."

"It was," I admitted, feeling a strange urge to be honest with him. "But the sword… it kind of has a mind of its own. I didn't really know what I was doing. I still don't."

Elias's expression turned thoughtful as he studied the blade in my hand. "It's beautiful," he said softly, though his tone was cautious. "But I can feel something… dangerous about it."

"You're not wrong," I muttered, looking down at the sword. Its surface seemed to ripple under my gaze, dark and light constantly shifting. "It's powerful, but I don't know how much of that power is… safe."

Elias's eyes flickered to mine, concern written across his face. "Maybe you don't have to figure it out alone."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, biting his lip before glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "I'm not exactly helpless, Marco. I know it might not look like it, but I've studied… things. Ancient things. Magic, artifacts, relics. Maybe I could help you understand the sword better. Maybe even help you control it."

I stared at him, surprised by his offer. He looked so gentle, so delicate in his flowing clothes and soft demeanor, but there was a quiet strength behind his words that made me believe him.

"You'd do that?" I asked, a little skeptical. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough," Elias said,

his tone steady.

"And besides, it looks like you could use a friend." His eyes softened, and there was that smile again, warm and genuine. I felt my heart skip a beat, something I hadn't expected. I nodded, unsure of what else to say, but grateful for the offer. "Okay. I… I could use a friend." Elias's smile brightened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I felt a small sense of relief wash over me. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to face the darkness of the sword alone.