They placed Michael in what looked to be a large bedroom. Everything here looked foreign to him. There were two, tall glass windows that gave him an open view of the green courtyard, another door that branched into a bathroom, and enough space to house more furniture that he didn't want to touch. As he sat blankly along the bed, he felt a strange sense of unease by how clean and spacious the place was. Was this how nobles lived?
They told him to stay here and promised to come back. He didn't know what else to do but knowing that they had an entire operation dedicated for underground human-killing entertainment, he couldn't question them further.
You're scared, the voice said in his head, of what's going to happen next.
Michael had never let go of the sword. "You…can read my thoughts? The entire time you could read my thoughts?"
Obviously, the voice said, and my voice doesn't sound weird at all. Not more weird than the way you run.
"If you can read my thoughts, do you know about my memories?"
Nope, the voice said quickly, I can't go that far.
"Thank goodness."
You're funny, the voice giggled in his mind.
He twitched. He never had someone compliment him before, especially coming from a girl.
Oh, what's that? Am I teasing you?
Michael spun around trying to find the voice. He never grasped the idea of this magical talking sword. The voice seemed so close to him as if she was speaking directly into his ear. Even the sound of her laughter was something to get used to.
Alright, I'll knock it off. I'll tell you what I really am.
The sword glowed in his hand until the entire weapon shimmered in a bright light, deconstructing itself into a greater mass. Michael couldn't take his eyes off it. This sword looked too small to produce something so bright. He had never seen anything like this. Until the light submerged and instead of the sword's hilt he held, it materialized into another person's hand.
The sword had transformed into a young girl. She had long dark-brown hair flowing down her back and ears, and the same golden eyes that glowed like the sword. Her face looked sarcastically witty and beautifully smooth. She wore a dark dress over her body and tight wrappings around her arms and legs, decorated like the hilt of his sword. More than that, Michael thought she looked like a skinny kid just like him.
"I am Evelyn!" she stood proudly in front. "I am an ego sword!"
Michael studied her. "An ego sword?"
"A magical sword that vanquishes evil!"
"You're…the sword?"
"I am the sword." she said, totally smug. "And I saved you from absolute death. I believe you are in debt to me now."
"Are you a god or something?"
"No, I'm a sword."
Michael scratched his head, trying to wrap his mind around this.
"Look, I'll show you." she gestured. "Give me your hand."
Michael grabbed her hand and there was a flash of golden light, then she turned right back into the same sword he held from a few moments before.
See, the voice said, I told you.
Michael yelped at the sight of a ghost appearing beside him. It was her, again, but her form looked like an apparition.
What did I scare you, she laughed, you're too easy.
"What am I looking at?"
This is my spirit form, she floated around Michael, I'm able to talk into your mind with this. Nothing too crazy to know, right?
Michael shuddered. "This is really freaking me out."
Evelyn flashed back into her physical form. "See?"
"Do…you have to always hold my hand for that?"
"Yep," she shook it. "That's our bond, and I choose you as my master!"
"Master?" Michael said as if that word had some weight. It was still bouncing around his head.
She frowned. "You know, I thought you would be more excited that I chose you but it sounds like you're doubting me."
"Because none of this exists, how—how does this even work?"
She groaned and laid beside him. "I thought we would conquer the world but it sounds like you don't even want me."
"No, no," Michael flustered. "I—do want you."
"Really?" she pouted. "Or are you saying that to make me feel better?"
"I mean, you saved me right? I wouldn't have lived against that magical beast if it wasn't for you."
Evelyn felt his hands. "Yeah, that's right."
Michael thought her hands were soft. This was the first time he's ever talked to someone of his own age. And even a girl, at that, since they weren't even allowed to work in the union. He even thought she looked pretty. And for someone like that to call him master, crossed so many lines He never knew he believed.
"I need a bath," Michael pulled away his hand. "They'll probably ask me something whenever they come back."
Evelyn sat up. "Can I come with you?"
"No!"
"What," she scoffed. "Are you really that scared of me? You know that I'm just a sword, right?"
Michael looked at her body. "No—no, we can't bathe together!"
Evelyn groaned, rolling around the bed. She even acted like a child in front of him. From the sudden help in battle, Michael found it hard to tell if this was even the same person.
***
An actual bath with clean water was a luxury for him. He didn't want to mention the amount of dirt that came off his body but excused it since he's practically gone through hell. Michael wasn't afraid of death. His mother told him stories about adventurers and how they'd die every day, just trying to make him avoid following in their footsteps. But that just made his journey more intriguing. The idea of an adventurer, exploring new land, fighting off beasts, and being a hero for the kingdom. There's not any other kid that wouldn't want anything different.
Michael stepped out of the bath and looked in the mirror. They've bandaged his arm but he didn't suffer any other major injuries. Apart from bruises, none of this was new to him. He tried to style his brown hair. He looked hard in the mirror for any streaks of dirt he probably missed.
Then he wondered why he was trying so hard to look presentable. He was a slave. He wasn't trying to impress anyone.
But somebody outside that door, Michael felt the decency to change.
There was some spare clothes left behind in the bathroom, probably from the previous winners in the arena. Michael assumed this place was the holding room until they processed through the person's crimes and contemplated if they wanted to free them or not.
Those nobles only cared for their sick entertainment, Michael thought, would they really think it would be a good idea to release a criminal back into the public? He also thought this entire room could blow into flames if they wanted to.
Michael unlocked the door. "I'm done—"
Evelyn threw another pillow. "I thought you left me, what's the matter with you?!"
"What's the matter with me?" Michael threw one back. "You kept trying to open my door when I was naked! You're the crazy one here!"
"But why would you lock it!?" she yelled back. "Do you hate me or something?!"
"Why wouldn't I lock the door from you?!"
Evelyn threw pillow after pillow. She stopped after running out, seeing that Michael hasn't thrown any back.
"I wasn't going to leave," Michael said. "I'm not sure if you notice but, you're a girl, and I'm a boy. We can't share the same bath."
"Yeah, and who wrote that rule?"
"Everybody who lives in this kingdom."
"We're in a kingdom?"
Michael stared at her, realizing she was stuck in that cellar for probably ages before he had picked her up.
Evelyn sighed and rolled around in the bed again.
"Do you...remember anything before you bonded with me?"
She thought hard to herself. "No, not really. I just thought you would be a pretty good bond."
Michael sat beside her. "Are you…I don't know—cursed?"
Evelyn punched him. "You see me turn into a sword and think I'm cursed? How dare you!"
"Hey—ow, stop! I'm sorry—ow!"
"I'm not cursed," she pouted. "I already told you, I'm an ego sword."
"I still have no idea what that means."
"Then it's not my problem," she turned away. "Don't you ever assume I'm cursed."
"Sorry, really, I mean it."
She punched him again, this time more soft. "You're supposed to treat me like I'm a queen. Ego swords are supposed to rule over everything."
"Did…someone tell that to you—ow, hey!"
Michael wrestled her back. He couldn't believe it but he was actually laughing. How long has it been since he was filled with happiness like this? And it just so happens to be with another girl that he found attractive. Was his life really getting better? Was this the freedom he imagined all along?
Even the sounds of her laughing. It made something in his chest ache. Was it because she was his first genuine friend?
Then there was a knock at the door.
They both sat up and looked at each other.
"Mister Velo?" a man said on the other side. "Mister Velo, are you done—"
"No, wait!" Michael called back. He took back everything he said about this girl. She was the absolute worst person he's met.
Evelyn was running away from him and she couldn't be laughing any louder. Michael chased after her, knocking away any furniture that she climbed over. Was all girls like this, Michael thought to himself, he even apologized yet it appears it still wasn't over.
"Give me your hand," Michael yelled quietly. "Now!"
Evelyn stuck out her tongue.
"Mister Velo?" the man said. "Is there something wrong—"
"No!" Michael shouted back. "Just—give me a second, wait—stop! Evelyn—I mean, no!"
Michael dashed around the table and tackled her to the floor. Her smile while she looked into his eyes. He didn't think he'd ever forget it.
The door opened. "Mister Velo—"
Michael reached for her hand and transformed her back into a sword.
The man wore a suit with the most elegant mustache Michael has ever seen. His gray hair was combed to the side like your typical noble maid. He looked around, taking in the sight the room was totally trashed. Tables were turned upside down, chairs being tripped over, the bedding was across the room, and pillows scattered all around.
Michael tried to look normal as if he wasn't the culprit..
"That's strange," the man scanned the room. "I could have sworn I heard another—"
"Nope," Michael nervously laughed. "It's just me. I just wanted the chance to—break everything?"
The voice was laughing in his head.
The man looked down on Michael. "Well, Mister Velo, if you can come with me. We're done with processing your file."
Michael walked along the man in the halls. Everything had seemed so shiny, so new, far from what he's seen in the union.
"You were a worker, back in Alanor?" the man said. "What makes you round back here to the capital?"
"The capital?"
"You're in Aldoria, a long way from Alanor. That is why I asked you about your business here."
"They put me in an arena, then I had to fight a magical beast—"
"Ah, yes, no need to explain. But you had no criminal record, you were just a slave. Why would you even compete against something like that?"
Michael looked at his sword. "Because…I didn't want to be a slave anymore?"
"I see."
This guy sounds like he doesn't even care, she appeared as a ghost beside Michael, I'm pretty sure forcing some criminals to fight underground goes against a couple of rules.
"I feel like he can't do anything about it," Michael said to her. "There's probably people higher than him that controls that."
The man looked at him. "Excuse me?"
"Oh," Michael nervously laughed again. "Sorry, it's a habit, I talk to myself sometimes."
He looked down at Michael with even more disgust than before.
You realize nobody can see me like this, she waved her ghost hand in front of Michael, you're the only one that can.
"I know," Michael mumbled. "Just…have to get used to that."
The man took him outside of the building, what looked like an entire rich estate for nobles. Michael will definitely brag about the privilege of being inside one of them later on. And to also think there's an arena, sitting directly underneath this place.
"Now, listen closely," the man lowered himself to Michael's eyes. "You saw nothing that transpired here. You were never here, you never knew this place at all, and you will never return. Do you understand?"
Michael nodded his head.
"Good," he closed the gate in front of him. "Now leave, before I call the guards for you trespassing."
"But…I thought I could get rewarded? You know, I'm the only person that made it out alive."
"That is your reward."
"You can't spare me a few coins?"
The man inhaled. "Guards!"
Michael turned around and ran. He thought about being arrested and sent back to the union that he forever hated. And to think that Evelyn would be there too, made him sick to his stomach.
After running into some people, apologizing, and away from the sight of those guards, Michael tried to find where he actually was.
The city of Aldoria was far different from Alanor, having much more developed buildings and a bigger population. There were actually more people roaming the streets compared to Alanor where they had actively avoided the parts where slaves were kept. And the people passed by Michael without inching away in disgust. Just for a spare of clean clothes was enough to squeeze him out of his slave life.
Still the parts of this city were separated by your status as a noble or commoner but Michael was still new to this place. He upgraded from a slave, to a lost child.
What do we do now, she said, or are you just going to keep running?
"No more running," Michael assured. "I think it's time I stopped running."