Chapter 2 || Nya's Blade

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- Kai's POV -

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Iris had trugged to her home a few houses down from mine, so Tali being Tali decided that she'd race me to the front door.

I beat her, of course. She claimed it's because I'm sixteen and she's eleven, but I, being an older brother, teased her and told her that she just sucked at winning.

We both pushed through the front door and yelled "We're home!" simultaneously. We dumped our bags onto the ground, then slumped onto the couch with a heavy tired sigh.

"I'm up here! And pick your bags up from the floor and put them in your rooms!" Mum replied, her voice muffled and coming from the attic.

"Pfft," Tali let out, waving her hand. "Who cares?"

"I care, thank you very much!" Mum yelled, making Tali curse.

Grumbling, we picked up our bags again and went to our rooms, where Tali stayed and I left quickly after chucking the bag onto the floor. I went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple and some bread before heading into the backyard.

For some reason I've always prefered being outdoors rather than under a roof, and today was no exception. Our yard was sunny and open, with large oak trees standing against the fence.

Before I could sit down I heard a loud bark from behind me. I turned around, then was thrown backwards when something large leaped up.

"Hey, boy! Get down, you big lump!"

Rudy was our dog - a huge grey ball with a habit of almost licking your face off. I pushed him back onto his four paws and ruffled his head while he panted happily.

Sitting down next to him, I took a huge bite into my apple.

For a teenage guy, I was smack bang in the middle of an awfully plain part of my life. I had great mates, an awesome family, was pretty popular, but not that unique of a legacy-in-the-making. People often asked me about my dad, if anything. Even though he retired from swordsmanship years ago, he's still pretty famous for being the best - and youngest - swordsman from East Minecraftia. And he still has a big head about it.

"Kai!" someone yelled from inside the house. "C'mere and help me out!"

I sighed melodramaticly, then called Rudy and went back to the house.

***

"Mum," I said slowly, my gaze slicing up the messy landscape, "why is there so much stuff up here?"

I felt her shrug beside me. "It just clogged up overtime. Now c'mon and help me clean it out."

Mum was quite pretty for someone her age; she had vivid blue eyes that were passed down to Tali, and light-brown-almost-greying hair that was pulled up into a bun on top of her head. She had smile lines deeply forged into her face, and, right now, she was covered with dust.

The attic, however, was the exact opposite of pretty. There were chests wide open and spilling out, piles of who-knows-what spread all over the floor; there were even cobwebs in practically every corner. I'd been up here one other time in my life to help mum clean, when I was practically a toddler. It was a pretty locked-away part of the house.

Mum was really talkative, so much so that an average hour long conversation with Xavier could have been done with her in twenty minutes. She liked telling stories, too, which I still enjoyed listening to - not that I'd tell her, though. She would often ramble about the time her dad sent her to one of the unexplored jungles, dozens of miles away - it's where she met Dad, she says, and almost died an alarming amount of times.

"I'd kill to go back there sometime," she laughed. "Just so see how it's changed."

"Are people living there now?" I asked, emptying a chest full of old clothes.

She tilted her head. "I'm not sure. Considering how much everything's growing now, probably, but it may have been too dense for even a small town."

We kept picking up random topics - that was the best thing about her; I could just talk to her about anything. She was a pretty decent mum on anyone's standards.

''Muuuum!" Tali's muffled voice sounded from downstairs. "I need help!"

She sighed. "I'll be back in a sec. Do you mind moving that chest over there -" She pointed to a large stack of chests pushed against the opposite wall - "over to the empty corner? Thanks, Kai." Then she hurried down the stairs.

I guessed she meant the chest on top of the stack, but when I picked it up I realised it was a lot heavier than I expected, even though it looked completely normal. I tried to move backwards and gain balance, but I tripped on some damn piece of something and fell, hard.

The chest hit even harder, but for some reason it bounced and hit the bottom of the pile it came from. Before I could even move the entire tower of storage toppled down on top of each other and on top of me. They opened and spilled out Notch knows what all over the floor, practically drowning me in obviously useless possesions of many weights.

Groaning, I shoved all the loose stuff off me, including a lot of old clothes and books. When I looked dispairingly back at the pile - the huge pile of stuff I would nodoubtedly have to clean up before Mum found - I realised that, in its place on the ground, a trap door was nestled carefully away. Weird, I thought. Considering the fact that no one ever comes up here anyways. Why would you need to hide something? Well, that's what I presumed it was for.

I stood up and kicked some books out of my way before getting back down on my knees beside the trap door. It was covered with dust, and from the looks of it whatever was below it was filled with cobwebs. Apparently this little corner hasn't been cleaned out even longer than the actual attic hasn't.

I tugged on the door, but it was closed tight. It ended up having to do the put-your-whole-weight-into-it-thing, and as expected I landed painfully on my ass. But at least it was open now.

Peering down, I checked out what this odd storage or perhaps fox hole of a safekeeping place seemed to be in charge of hiding. To my complete unsurprise, it was a chest, covered with layers of cobwebs which made it all that more eerie, like I had just discovered evidence of a ghost's existance. I reached down, muttering fustratedly about stupid goddamn cobwebs everywhere, before getting a strong enough grip on the chest to hoist it out of the whole.

I could faintly here Mum arguing with Tali in the living room below, and I suddenly caught on to my own secretive and purposefully quiet-as-can-be actions over the last ten minutes. Usually, if I were to find something, I'd ask Tali or Mum about it, but this time was different. I don't know what it was, though. It almost felt like when I'd opened the trapdoor its muffled click had started something bigger than a simple little find in an attic. I mentally punched myself. I was being ridiculous and even hearing my own thoughts made me embarrased, which was entirely more stupid and just made me more annoyed. Goddamn it, I cursed to myself and at myself.

Shaking my head, I cleared my mind of that distraction and leant over the old and clearly hardly ever unlocked chest I'd just pulled up. It resembled a normal chest, lock, colour and all, but it didn't feel the same. It felt . . . formidable.

Then I realised that it's probably not the chest that's giving me the creeps; it's what's inside.

I'm split into three on the matter, one saying 'No! Go ask someone about it first!', the other saying 'Adventure awaits', and the last telling me to ''Put it back and never let it see the light of day again'.

I go with the second option, though. There's something mysteriously inviting about the chest and whatever contents were inside. Something compelling.

So I open it. It swings loudly but not as loud as I'd expected, its hinges surprisingly smooth. A strong sense of curiousity pulls me past a faint feeling of dread.

I'm slightly confused and completely in awe about what I see. A sword - a diamond sword - was lain on the bottom, glinting with a sharp blue that seemed almost too acute to belong inside such an old and weary looking container. In fact, it looked so new I doubted it had ever been used before. But who . . .

Dad, of course. He'd been a swordman for years, so of course he'd have plenty scattered around in weird places. I've stumbled into many before. But . . . Swordsmen use their swords. This was was completely lacking any signs of wear, its blade better than any I'd seen before, its handle pure and unscathed leather, with not a scratch anywhere in sight. It was almost an unholy sight, something so coldly perfect. But that wasn't all.

I wanted to hold it, wield it, own it like nothing else ever before. Its shimmering iceiness was so drawing, so beautiful and deadly, so much so that I needed it, needed to use it and have it and cut final breaths short with it -

I slammed the box shut. Then I dragged the heavy chest over to the largest shelf in the room, placing it behind a huge stack of others, until it was undistinguishingly different. I stared at it for a while, hearing my own voice in my head, realising that my sweaty palms were so because whatever that thing had made me thought had scared me to death. End their breaths. Cut them short.

I dug nails into my arm and abrubtly turned around, walking away from the sword like I'd broken my brain. My legs felt sluggish and a sick feeling whirled around in my stomach, making my head hurt and mind get confused.

What was that?

I decided I didn't want to know. But no matter how much farther away I got from that chest, the settling dread didn't lessen. If anything it got worse because I knew at the back of my mind I'd started something. Like a voice, chanting and singing, "Haha! It's too late to go back now, you've ruined your chance!". I didn't know what, I didn't know what and it was terrifying and made me want to fall asleep for a long time.

I crashed into Mum without even realising she'd finished her argument with Tali and had started to walk back up into the attic. I had my head down and turned in the direction to my room.

"Hey, I'm really tired. Can I sleep for a bit?"

I felt her gaze on the side of my head. "Sure. Are you alright, Kai?" she asked.

I nodded. "Fine."

Amongst my own anxiety about who knows what, it was just there, I managed a clear thought: Sleep, and you'll feel and think better tomorrow. Who knows, maybe you just imagined all those weird vibes from the sword? You're just tired. Sleep.

So I did, but the unsettling memories of me holding the blade, its blueness twinkling like an all-knowing gaze, followed me into my dreams.

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- a memory from long ago -

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"We'll find her," he whispered, his voice trembling with the guilt of a thousand sinners. "We will.".

But the other boy - the one with the eyes of the ocean at night - did not feel comforted by his friend's hopeful words. He could only imagine every outcome of their mistake. Every outcome except the one he was hoping for.

"She couldn't have gone far," said the first boy, shaking from both cold and despair, "She's so little."

"Little enough to be stuck, but big enough for them to notice," said the blue-eyed boy. His thoughts were inhabited by fear that drove him forward on this cold, winter night. Snow fell across his shoulders but he did not care. The sky could have collapsed on his back but he would have found some way to keep moving. He would find her.

The other boy, his best friend, raven-haired and skinny, struggled to keep up. His eyes stung from tears and harsh wind. "Don't say that. Don't say it. We'll find her. She'll be safe - everyone is looking for her."

The most the blue-eyed boy could do was nod.

"We could have told the adults what we did," started the raven-haired boy, taking gulping breaths as they powerered through the unforgiving night, "and then they could have found her earlier. Please, Steve, can we -"

"No!" he shouted, suddenly, his voice piercing through the storm surrounding and encasing them. "They can't know. My parents," he trailed, squeezing his eyes shut, "they would never forgive me."

"Yes, they would. I know them."

"It's too late now. We have to find her ourselves. This is our fault."

And so they continued their treck in silence, each step taking them further towards an outcome that, deep down, they both knew was inevitable. No monsters wandered across their path. They were either cold, or as the boys both feared and knew, were preoccupied.

They reached the clearing with heavy hearts and limbs. The blue-eyed boy dragged himself towards the now almost hidden deep hole in the ground they'd dug, the haze of snow clouding his vision, stinging his eyes, freezing his hands. His friend followed with steps weighed with the burden of a murderer, steps that matched the blue-eyed boy's own.

When they looked upon their mistake, their one most deadly mistake, their souls were reaped by the claws of a killer's guilt. But they both knew their souls had already been destined to wither the moment they remembered the girl they'd left behind.

The hole was empty, and as were their hearts, cold, icy, and buried under the layers of regret and suffering neither of them would ever forget.

Not even the snow could numb their hatred for themselves that night.

Not even the snow could hide what they had done.

Not even the snow could smother the flames of betrayal lit inside the forgotten girl's heart.

Flames that would burn beyond mortality. Beyond rivalry. Beyond vengence.

Flames that would set alight the end of the world.

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I hope that was at least 10% worth the, like, 3 month or whatever wait it took me to write this damn chapter. Sorry bout that, by the way. My bad :(

Wowwwwwwwwwwwwww that took a long time to write. But I have an excuse this time!!!!!!!! A good one!!!!!!!!

A single word: Homestuck.

Yeah.

Anyways, hoped you liked!

QOTC:

Who's your fictional crush? (i can safely say mine's vriska oh myg od i love her so much)

See you guys next chapter (which will hopefully be soon!!!!!!!!) Bye!!!!!!!!

- Jazz (serket heheheheh)