It was dark now, and the castle was surprisingly quiet. Especially given how many sorcerers lived here. Still, I enjoyed the peace as I made my way back up the stairs to my guest room. I opened the door, quite ready to playfully tease Daava about the fun night she must have had. But then I saw Daava in the corner of the room—sobbing while holding herself wrapped in my pink school cloak.

Raging protective instinct fought for control. For a moment, I had no idea who I was. So that I had to force myself to stay soft. Stay Lilly. At least until I knew for sure that nobody had hurt her. This seemed to be enough to put my inner darkness on standby.

I rushed to Daava's side and said, “What happened?”

Daava shook her head, having seemed prepared to answer my unspoken question. “When Day-Blee started to look at the sword … and talk about it … I … my brain just …” She let out more sobs, unable to get the words out.

“It’s okay,” I said, making my hushed tone as soothing as I could. I took her head in my arms and began to softly stroke her hair.

But Daava shook her head and said, “I really hurt them."

"Dayo-Blee?" I asked. "How?"

But Daava shook her head sharply. "No, the sword! I know I hurt it. I could feel all the pain I was causing it. Questioning it! Trying to fix it!"

I shook my head, staring at the weapon on her back

"I’m the problem, Lilly!" Daava gasped, her eyes bloodshot and almost ... otherworldly. "If I could just do this right, say things right, then we wouldn't even be here! I've been messing everything up since the moment I started this! I know it, the sword knows it. Even you know it! You're just too nice to-”

Again, the instinct to destroy flared.

“No,” I said, holding the top of her head just to keep a grasp on the softer part of myself. I kissed the top of her head repeatedly and said, “You’re the smartest person I know! And one of the gentlest. You’re doing what you think is right. And I trust you.”

“Then why does it happen like this with almost everyone!” Daava demanded, turning on me with a sort of mad desperation in her eyes. “My family thinks I’m a traitor. I ran away from Dayo-Blee. I hurt the sword even more than the Master did! And you? Don't pretend I'm not hurting you!" Daava turned sharply, staring through a wall as her tone became hollow. "Making you watch as it ... as it changes me.”

I shook my head. “But ... I figured it out! The enchantments can be healed; they can be fixed! You were right all along, Daava, and I’m so sorry I didn’t see that. But I did trust you, and I would never stop trusting you.”

Daava pulled back a little, her face stained with tears as she looked at me with a little bit of hope. “They can be healed?”

I nodded, also pulling back to reveal the pink gem that now looked like a solid glass anklet fused around my foot. “It’s a long story but-”

A sudden crash interrupted me, coming from somewhere outside the room. I quickly helped Daava to her feet, and the two of us ran out of our room to the balcony.

There, I saw a settling cloud of dust. Beneath it were the splintered remains of scaffolding, along with something else. It took me a moment to recognize that it was Dayo-Blee—collapsed in the center of the rubble.

Unmoving.

Together, we rushed down the stairs to them. It didn’t take long for the other residents of the castle to join us. All of them with the same looks of fear as what I now felt. Dayo-Blee was unconscious, their guplium-like skin torn in places, opening up the scar tissue beneath to the elements.

I lowered the top of my dress to create a healing atmosphere. Immediately, the goo began to mend where it was broken. I nearly went to use my power directly, when something emerged from the shadows.

At first, I thought it was just too dark to see the figure clearly. A brown leather helmet hovered above a full body of matching armor beneath. Behind it were great, sewn wings connected to mechanical gears. But when it got closer, stepping into the light, I realized that it was no person. It was just … armor ... moving on its own!

“What the hell is that!” shouted dryad, as the plant entity connected to him rattled threateningly.

The armor paused in its tracks for just a moment, casting a glance toward Dayo-Blee. It looked between each of its gauntlets, as if realizing for the first time what it had done. Then it curled its fingers almost like claws and took another step toward them.

“We have no idea!” I replied, already cycling my magnetic force through me. In a blink, I unleashed my power without warning—directly at the armor entity. This sent it flying back—striking violently against more scaffolding and tool benches.

Instead of staying down, however, it immediately shot upward on its great wings. Like a bird of prey, it flew across the second floor, as if waiting patiently to choose what it would like to strike.

Friss and Nills suddenly emerged from above, stretching their serpentine body over the railing to hit it with all the power of a cobra. I heard a crack before Nilsss screamed out in pain. She and Friss had literally just punched solid armor; but there was nothing inside to wound!

Nilss and Friss slithered down to the first floor, retreating, with the armor chasing right behind them. It seemed to slow itself in the chase, as if savoring the moment.

Right as it had nearly collided with them, a black hole opened up in the armor's path. Daava had used her portal magic to teleport it, so that its momentum sent it right into the solid stone ground.

Seizing the opportunity, the dryad stepped forward and shot waxy vines from their body. This slowed the entity enough for the dwarf to jump onto its back. Their robotic scorpion tail penetrating the armor over and over, but to no effect.

“Why are they doing this!” Nilss gasped while, while I grasped her arm, to heal it. “I can sense them … they’re … like us!”

My mind spun, trying to make sense of the armor being a fellow mutualist. If it came from the Master ... did that mean that it was an enchantment? No, not one enchantment, but many. Every piece, its own mind, all working together! Without anyone even there to use them!

The armor bucked the dwarf, and the dryad had to release his hold to catch his falling comrades in time.

Daava stepped in front of it, her sword aimed. Like last time, the sword ignited furiously against the oncoming enemy. As soon as it was in front of her, Daava leapt into an impressive somersault, slicing beneath her. Her sword cut directly into a wing—severing it entirely and filling the area with a smell of burnt leather. All while the wing let out a high-pitched scream.

The armor crashed into the ground. What was left of it didn’t stay down long, however, before it was charging on foot.

Then a blur of pink divebombed it.

It was Pasithea!

I worried for a moment that she would simply be crushed by one of the entity’s leather gloves, but—to my surprise—she managed to touch the other wing. In a blink, it fell limply to the ground. As if the magic had just been sucked away.

Whatever this enchantment was, pixies could nullify it even without healing it!

The entity glanced briefly at the sword in Daava's grasp. And then began to sprint toward the entrance of the castle. It was retreating!

“We’re not losing it!” Daava shouted as she began to run after it.

I turned to the Mutualists and said, “Take care of Dayo-Blee.” Then I turned and went after her.

Without time to use the lift, I followed Daava in diving into the lake water below. I then swam to shore and began sprinting. Despite my best efforts, however, I soon lost sight of both Daava and the armor.

“Fuck!” I shouted, cursing myself through all my worry.

What if this had been a trap to lure Daava out? What if I couldn’t find her? What if she were captured and something horrible happened? My mind continued to spin awful scenarios as I alternated between frantically speed-walking and then running in short bursts.

It was in immense relief when I eventually found Daava with her hands on her knees, also panting. Her sword was again pinned to her back. “The … thing … got away.” She winced and let out a pained gasp.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, approaching quickly.

However, Daava waved me off. “We know where it’s going. The final lair of the Master.” Then Daava turned to me quite suddenly and said, “When we were in the room, you said you know how to heal the sword?”

I nodded eagerly.

Daava unsheathed it tenderly, as if trying to hide something, and then held it in front of me by the hilt and blade.

I looked at Pasithea, hoping she would understand what we were asking of her. Sure enough, she took flight and hovered over to the weapon. Pasithea extended out her palms to sense it, but then suddenly scowled and shook her head. She then turned her hands into fists, much like when she had drained the wing enchantment of all life.

"Don't hurt it!" Daava shouted, her tone protective and desperate in equal measure. She shielded the weapon away from the pixie with her full body.

A sharp feeling pulled the air from my lungs, and I gestured at Pasithea to move aside. “It's okay … maybe I can do it.” I reached a hand to my breasts and squeezed a bit of milk. I then approached and sprinkled some droplets onto it.

As soon as I did, the blade flared with orange color, evaporating my milk with a rageful hiss before it ever touched the metal.

“Fuck!” Daava shouted as she dropped the blade, fresh burn marks now covering her arms. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

I thought she was apologizing to me at first, but all her frantic attention was on the sword. Daava closed her eyes and winced as if under the barrage of words I could not hear.

“Daava!” I said, now very worried.

However, Daava shook her head, clenched her jaw, and wiped away something forming in her eyes. “I … I shouldn’t have let you push that onto it. I shouldn't have gotten Dayo-Blee or the Mutualists or you involved. It's my fault. It's all my fault!”

"... Daava ..." I whispered.

But with those words, the sword again released a cooling balm. Clearing her arm in an instant from the scorchmarks.

Daava breathed a sigh of relief that almost seemed more emotional then physical. Then, without another word, she began marching forward.

I tried uselessly to get her to stop and just talk with me. However, I was barely able to even keep up with her. But I was able to see the sword on her back. Sitting there, all its magic still hidden from me. Feeling almost as if it were mocking me.

Making the shadow inside me only burn hotter. Filling me with the desire to rend metal and hear its metallic screams. Yet beneath the rage was something worse: disgust that I wasn’t able to stop this. That I was trying to heal that which needed to be destroyed, even when a pixie seemed to know the truth. And, more than anything, that I was only watching while that which was precious to me was being lied to and hurt.

Pasithea brought me back to myself when she landed on my shoulder, her glare also on the sword. Her demeanor was nothing like the one with which she had treated Bunny. An enchantment ... a creature ... that had wanted to be helped.

Which made me wonder ... what if ... the sword didn't? What if the sword was exactly what it wanted to be?