The Sword Arrives
Five days remained before the Theoms Tournament. Atta stood in the moonlit gardens of Siant Athepia, waiting nervously. His request had been granted—Princess Izza was bringing him the Sword of Derona.
He stiffened when a hand smacked the back of his head. "Ouch—!" He spun around, only to see his sister giggling in a simple black gown, her identity hidden.
Atta pouted. "That's not fair, Sister. I'm fifteen now—you can't just hit me like a child."
Princess Izza laughed softly and ruffled his hair. "You'll always be my little brother. How are you? It's only been a few days, but I already miss you."
Atta's annoyance melted into a smile. He dropped onto the grass, patting the spot beside him. She sat, her warm presence making him feel at ease.
"You look more mature," she teased. "Are you sure you're Atta, and not his body double?"
"Not funny," he huffed. "But yes… I'm learning a lot here. Like how to stay awake all night while listening to my roommate snore."
Izza chuckled. "So, Prince Atta is having a hard time as a commoner?"
He shook his head, voice quieter. "It's new, but I'm enjoying it. Don't worry—I'll get used to it."
She smiled proudly. "Father and Fiza miss you. We all do."
Atta gazed up at the starlit sky, whispering, "I miss you too. It's hard—this is the first time I've ever lived outside the palace. But I'm trying to be strong."
Izza's eyes softened, then grew serious. She gestured to a long wooden box resting beside her. "Here. The Sword of Derona. You know it's one of the five most powerful magical blades in existence, right?"
Atta's gaze locked on the box. "I know… but I need it. I don't want to lose in the tournament."
"Then open it," she urged. "Show me how you'll wield it."
Atta rose and approached the box with reverence. He lifted the lid, revealing a curved crimson blade, its surface gleaming faintly as though alive. The black iron hilt felt heavy with history. As soon as his fingers brushed the handle, a shiver ran through his entire body—its magic searing into his veins.
He stepped past Izza, the sword humming in his grip. His eyes closed instinctively, and when he opened them again, his irises glowed red. With one swing, he unleashed a slash toward the distant mountains. The blade's energy tore through the forest in its path—hundreds of trees cleaved cleanly in two.
Atta froze in shock. His hand trembled. "I-I didn't mean to go that far…" He turned his head slightly. "Sister, can you… fix the forest?"
A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Izza's voice was soft, but firm. "It's powerful, Atta. Don't use it carelessly. Take care—I'll be watching over you, my little brother."
In the next instant, she vanished into the wind.
The garden fell silent—until a deep, sinister voice echoed inside Atta's mind.
"Boy… we should talk."
Azeon had awakened.
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To Be Continued....