Saryn looked at his own hands, coated in the blood of the specter, before looking back down at it.
The specter was clean, pristine, simply untouched, almost as if Saryn's violence never occurred, or rather it never mattered. The specter wore a disappointed look, breathing calm and steady, a sharp contrast to Saryn's rapid and ragged breaths.
The specter began deteriorating, and before long, it transformed into a shadow which reformed seconds later, sitting down leisurely beside Saryn's pitiful state.
The lilac blade was stabbed deep into the white nothingness in between the two, pulsing steadily.
Once.
Twice.
Over and over like a heartbeat.
Saryn's hands drooped downward to his knees, as he twisted around slowly, watching the specter with caution.
The specter matched his gaze, but its cold, cyan eyes were sharp and concrete, unlike Saryn's fearful and weary gaze.
…
"What fight did you think you were winning?"
"I-"
"No. You were fighting like somebody who doesn't know who he is."
Saryn's fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"I know who I a-"
"Who are you then?"
…
"You merely only know who you fear you are."
Saryn couldn't muster a response, staring blankly into the endless void as if it would grant him the answers he wished for.
Not the truth.
But lies that could comfort him.
The blade rhythmically vibrated beside Saryn, as he turned his head toward it, watching the reflection in the metal.
It was only "the" reflection in the metal, for he couldn't accept yet that it was "his" reflection in the metal.
The reflection looked back at him, with his same fear in its eyes.
Not monstrous.
Not impure.
Just lost…
…
The specter broke the silence.
"Mirrors don't lie, that isn't just a reflection… it's yours."
Saryn gritted his teeth slightly.
"And it's a reflection you must learn to acce-"
"I don't want to!"
…
The specter rested his hand on the pommel of the greatsword.
"Then you don't deserve this gift."
"You think the blade wants your strength." It carried on shortly afterward, "And so, you believe you are missing the strength to take control."
"But… strength is the one thing you never lacked."
Saryn's jaw clenched.
The specter's voice became low, almost gentle.
"What you lack… is direction."
The blade pulsed again, brighter this time. The lilac glow washed over Saryn's face, illuminating the exhaustion carved into his features.
Saryn swallowed hard. "Direction? I-I know what I'm doing."
"No." The specter said simply. "You know what you're running from."
Saryn's breath hitched, the same speechless feeling hitting his tongue.
The specter tapped the flat of the crystal lilac blade with his fingertip. The metal thrummed in response, as if it understood the conversation better than Saryn did.
"This… isn't a weapon for killing your fears."
Another heartbeat resounded from the blade.
"It's for carving them out."
Saryn stared at the blade, at the faint crack in the pommel, at the dormant navy vein running through its core. It looked incomplete. Unfinished. Waiting.
Waiting for him.
Not the version of him he thought he was, or rather the version he was chasing.
But instead, waiting for the version of him that he was running from.
Saryn's chest tightened painfully.
"I don't…" He said with a lack of air. "I don't know how…"
The specter finally smiled - not cruelly, not mockingly, but with a strange, quiet warmth.
"That… is the first honest thing you've said." The specter replied, a tinge of care threading around its every word.
"How can I be… like you?"
The specter was slightly taken aback by Saryn's question.
"Be like me?" It replied. "I am you."
"In this space, I'm the copy… you are the original." The specter muttered.
"So why… why do I lack everything you have?" Saryn turned away from the blade.
…
"You don't lack anything that I have."
"I am but another piece of you… a piece you've buried deep, believing it didn't belong to the rest of your puzzle."
…
Saryn's breath trembled.
The words clung to him like lava seeping into the cracks he had spent so long believing weren't there.
The lava hurt.
It was so painful.
But he knew it would help him.
Fix him.
Mold him.
The specter watched him patiently. Its posture was relaxed and calm, mimicking the quietness of the void surrounding them.
"You see it now."
Saryn didn't answer. He didn't trust himself to.
The specter leaned back slightly, resting its palms on the white nothingness beneath them. "You think this place is testing your strength. Your skill. Your will." Its eyes narrowed. "But it's testing your honesty."
Saryn's fingers twitched, finally relaxing.
'Honesty?'
Honesty with himself.
The blade pulsed again, brighter, the lilac glow washing over his skin. It wasn't warm. It wasn't cold. It was… aware. Present. Like it was waiting for him to stop lying.
Saryn swallowed hard. "Im not-"
"You are," The specter spoke softly. "You're terrified."
Saryn's breath hitched. "Of what?"
The specter tilted its head. "Of being less."
The words hit Saryn like a truck, shattering whatever disbelief remained in his heart.
He turned back again toward the blade, watching quietly, knowing it was peering back at him.
The specter also gazed at the greatsword from the other side.
"You think your blood makes you impure. You think your past makes you unworthy… You think everything about you is… wrong."
Saryn's chest tightened painfully as he felt a lump form in his throat.
The specter tapped at the flat of the blade yet again, another low hum resonating with Saryn's very soul.
"The blade." The specter spoke with confidence and warmth. "It isn't judging your blood."
Another pulse.
"It's judging your truth."
Saryn watched with silence, drawing out the meaning from the specter's words, attempting to muster up a counterargument, and yet he knew nothing he could say would be a suitable rebuttal.
Any combination of words he could spit out would pale in the face of absolute truth.
The greatsword waited for him.
"I don't… I don't know how to be what it wants."
The specter smiled in response - small, sad, but painfully human.
"I don't know how to-"
"That's the point." The specter cut Saryn off.
The void rippled, as if agreeing.
The blade pulsed again, brighter than before, the glow reflecting in Saryn's eyes.
For the first time, he didn't look away.
The specter rose to its feet, stepping back, giving him space.
"Go on."
"Reach for it."
Saryn's breath caught.
The blade waited.
Alive.
Aware.
More sentient than he felt.
And for the first time in his life…
He reached not for power.
But for himself.