The silence in Kai's workshop stretched thin, a tense quiet that pulsed in sync with the strange energy radiating from the blade in his hand. The cultivators watched him, eyes glinting with suspicion, and Kai knew he was caught in the center of something far larger than he'd intended. His instincts screamed to set the weapon down and back away, but his grip on the hilt remained firm, as if the blade itself was holding him in place.
The lead cultivator's face was stone-cold, his gaze flicking from the blade to Kai's face. "You're playing a dangerous game, blacksmith. Only those sanctioned by the Emberhold Guard are permitted to handle weapons of this magnitude. Celestial Blades are restricted to our order."
The term resonated with a gravity Kai could feel but didn't fully understand. He had heard rumours of Celestial Blades—legendary weapons, each imbued with an ancient soul and crafted under the stars by masters of a lost art. These weapons, it was said, could amplify a cultivator's spirit power a hundredfold. But Celestial Blades were relics, whispers of a past era, and Kai never thought he'd see one, let alone hold one in his hands.
Kai's voice came out low but steady. "I didn't steal this. I found it broken, discarded with the scrap metal. I only repaired it."
The lead cultivator sneered, his hand hovering over the hilt of his own blade. "Even touching a Celestial Blade without clearance is an act of treason. But repairing it? That's impossible. No ordinary blacksmith could bind themselves to a Celestial Spirit."
One of the other cultivators, a tall woman with a jagged scar tracing her cheek, stepped forward. Her tone was sharp, accusatory. "You must have forged an illegal bond. The spirit within that blade would only allow itself to be restored by one it deemed worthy."
Kai's grip tightened. "I didn't bond with anything. I'm just a blacksmith, trying to do my work."
"Is that so?" The leader's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Then perhaps you'd be willing to prove it by handing over the weapon. Let the Emberhold Guard decide if it's worth keeping or melting down."
A chill settled in Kai's stomach as he looked down at the blade. He didn't fully understand the bond he felt with it, but the thought of giving it up felt as impossible as giving up a part of himself. "This blade… it doesn't belong to you. It's bound to me."
The cultivator's gaze hardened, and he drew his weapon with a swift, practiced motion, the gleaming spirit energy around the blade casting an ominous light across the room. "Then you leave us no choice."
The air in the workshop grew heavy with the scent of molten metal and the tension of impending violence. Kai's heart pounded in his chest as the other two cultivators followed their leader's example, drawing their weapons and stepping forward, their postures coiled with menace.
Suddenly, the blade in Kai's hand pulsed again, the energy surging through him in a wave of warmth. A voice—ancient, powerful—whispered to him, a single word that held the weight of command: "Stand."
As if guided by instinct, Kai raised the weapon, the blade's spirit merging with his own resolve. "I don't want a fight," he said, his voice calm despite the fear rushing through him. "But I won't hand this blade over."
The lead cultivator sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "So, you think a blacksmith can face the Emberhold Guard? Very well." He lunged forward, his sword aimed at Kai's chest, the edge gleaming with a deadly precision.
Before Kai fully realized what he was doing, he swung his blade to meet the attack. The sound of clashing metal rang out, the Celestial Blade's spirit flaring with a blinding light that forced the cultivators to recoil. The lead cultivator staggered back, his expression flashing with shock as he looked at his weapon, now chipped along the edge.
"Impossible…" he muttered, gripping his weapon tighter. "No Celestial Blade could be wielded by someone like you."
Kai's pulse thundered as he raised the blade, the strange warmth of the weapon guiding his movements. The woman with the scar circled him, her own weapon glowing with an eerie green light. She grinned, a cruel glint in her eyes. "If you really are bonded to that blade, let's see how long you last with it."
Kai's thoughts raced. He had never fought with a weapon like this, had never even trained as a warrior. But the blade's spirit was feeding him memories—flickers of battles long past, of ancient techniques lost to time. The blade seemed to move on its own, blocking, parrying, each motion precise and fluid.
Yet he knew he couldn't keep up with trained fighters for long. With each clash, the cultivators grew more aggressive, determined to overpower him. Kai's strength was waning, and he could feel the blade's spirit pushing him, urging him to something he didn't fully understand.
Finally, the cultivators surrounded him, weapons raised for a final blow. Kai braced himself, his heart pounding, his vision narrowing with fatigue.
And then, the workshop door burst open, flooding the room with light.
A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the morning sun. Kai's breath caught as he recognized the robes of the Emberhold Council—a deep crimson, lined with silver symbols. The figure stepped forward, revealing a face weathered by age yet sharp with authority.
"What is the meaning of this?" The voice was cold, cutting through the tension like a blade. The cultivators froze, lowering their weapons.
The lead cultivator swallowed, bowing low. "Master Ashan, this blacksmith has bonded with a Celestial Blade, in direct violation of our laws. We were apprehending him."
Master Ashan's gaze drifted over the room, landing on Kai. His eyes were sharp, analyzing, and the weight of his scrutiny felt as heavy as the blade in Kai's hand. "And yet, he stands unharmed," Ashan observed, his tone unreadable. "A mere blacksmith, able to deflect three of Emberhold's elite?"
The cultivators shifted uncomfortably, the lead one clenching his jaw. "With all respect, Master Ashan, this weapon belongs to the Guard."
Ashan raised a hand, silencing him. "This weapon is older than the Guard itself. Its spirit is bound to this blacksmith, and I would know why." He turned to Kai, his gaze piercing. "Tell me, boy. How did you come by this blade?"
Kai swallowed, searching for words. "It… called to me. I found it in the scrap pile. I only wanted to repair it."
Ashan's eyes narrowed. "And yet, it awakened." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Tell me, blacksmith, did the blade speak to you?"
Kai hesitated, the strange warmth pulsing through his grip. "Yes," he whispered, just loud enough for Ashan to hear. "It told me to… run."
Ashan's expression shifted, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. He looked down at the blade, his gaze distant, as if remembering something long forgotten. "Then it seems the blade has chosen."
The cultivators exchanged uncertain glances, but Ashan remained focused on Kai. "You may not understand the depth of what you've found, blacksmith, but a Celestial Blade's bond is not something that can be undone easily. If the blade has chosen you, then you must answer its call."
Kai's heart pounded. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Ashan said, his voice barely above a whisper, "that you are marked. And the Council will come for you."
With that, he turned to the cultivators. "Stand down. The boy's fate is now in the hands of the Council."
The cultivators hesitated but obeyed, stepping back with sullen expressions.
Kai released a shaky breath, but before he could ask more, Ashan met his gaze one last time, his voice low and urgent. "Leave Emberhold. If you value your life, follow the blade's call… and don't return."
Kai's blood ran cold as Ashan's words sank in, and as the master walked away, he left Kai alone with the blade and a heart pounding with fear and questions.
With Emberhold's Council on his trail and a forbidden blade in his hand, Kai realized his life was no longer his own.
The whisper came again, faint but insistent: "Run."
Kai turned and fled into the dawn, the road stretching endlessly toward the Wildlands and the unknown.