Kaelen floated in the midst of the trial, the roar of the twelve Concept magics now nothing more than a distant echo, as though the universe itself had decided to take a breath. His lungs burned, his limbs trembled—not from physical strain, but from the immensity of what he'd just endured.
Before him, the Blade of Eternity hovered in midair, its mended form radiating a brilliance that seemed older than time itself. The cracks and breaks that once marred its body were gone, replaced by veins of light that pulsed like the heartbeat of a living being.
But all that didn't bother Kaelen at the moment. What did though made his mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "…You're telling me… a god—an actual god—has been in my hands this entire time… as a sword?" His voice cracked in disbelief. "How in the name of all the realms does that even—" He stopped himself, dragging his hand through his hair. "—How did you even end up like this?!"
