In Sept Village, the streets were very lively due to the size of the village.
Voices overlapped in the air, echoing against the buildings, mixed with the distant clatter of metal and footsteps rushing past. The smell of iron, dust, and warm food drifted through the streets.
Akira had never seen a place as big as this before.
His eyes moved from one building to another, struggling to take everything in. The ground beneath his feet felt unfamiliar, smoother, almost foreign compared to the rough paths of his village.
The two boys stopped moving to stand still in one of the main streets.
The flow of people continued around them, brushing past their shoulders, some glancing briefly before moving on. The noise did not stop, not even for a second.
Akira then wondered why Haru had stopped.
A faint tension settled in his chest as he turned slightly toward him.
Maybe he was stressed by the large population of the place and now wanted to turn back.
The thought lingered, uncertain, as Akira observed him more closely.
But he was surprised to see a big satisfied smile appear on Haru's face.
That smile felt completely out of place in the middle of the crowd, almost as if Haru belonged here more than anyone else.
He then looked at Akira and said:
Haru's eyes gleamed slightly, reflecting the movement and light around them.
"We are going to find a blacksmith or a weapon collector, maybe they can tell us more."
A brief silence followed, swallowed immediately by the noise of the street.
With a quick glance, Haru pointed at a shop of recently acquired weapons.
The sign above the entrance creaked slightly with the wind, the wood worn but still sturdy.
He thought that it was obviously there that they could get a deep expertise on the sword, on the initials A.Z and on the foreign language engraved on the blade, maybe even more about the materials used and even the one who forged it.
Akira felt a slight excitement rise inside him, mixed with a strange nervousness he couldn't quite explain.
The two set off to go to the shop.
Their steps blended into the constant movement of the street, the ground vibrating slightly under the weight of passing crowds.
By pushing the door to enter inside, a strange smell entered the noses of the two young boys.
It wrapped around them instantly, soft yet persistent, clinging to the back of their throats.
That of a mixture of mint and lavender.
The scent felt almost out of place among the metal and dust, like something carefully chosen to hide another odor.
The man at the counter surrounded by swords seemed young for an expert.
The light from a nearby window reflected faintly on the blades behind him, creating thin lines of brightness across the room.
But appearances can be deceptive, thought the two young boys.
Akira's grip tightened slightly without him realizing, his eyes scanning every detail.
They arrive in front of the owner of the shop.
The wooden floor creaked softly under their weight, each step echoing in the enclosed space.
He puts the sword on the counter and Haru asks him to tell them more about the sword in front of him.
The metal made a sharp, clean sound as it touched the surface, drawing the man's full attention.
"Tell us what you know about this sword."
The man then answers that the sword is not a rare piece but that he can still make the effort to take it back to give a good sum to the two young boys.
His tone was calm, almost too calm, as if trying to smooth something over.
Haru immediately interrupts the man.
A slight tension appeared in his posture, his shoulders straightening.
"We are not here to sell it and stop taking my friend and me for fools. Despite your effort to hide your joy when you saw the blade, I noticed that it was far more interesting than you wanted us to believe. Now speak and tell us everything you know, hoping that it is not in vain."
A brief silence fell.
Even the air seemed heavier.
The man, very disappointed, then asks Haru:
He let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter.
"Well, if your desire is not to get rid of it, then it is useless for me to use tricks to make a good deal. About this sword, I can tell you more about the material."
Haru looks at the man and he seems extremely disappointed.
His brows lowered slightly, frustration flickering in his eyes.
"What, only that? You cannot tell us more about the writings on the sword and the initials?"
The man remains silent, snaps his fingers and says that with some writings it is possible that he could know more, because now he, like the two boys, seems extremely curious about this very strange sword.
The sharp sound of his fingers echoed briefly in the shop.
"Wait here."
During the absence of the man, Akira moves toward the other swords so that he too can have his own sword.
The faint metallic smell grew stronger as he approached the display.
Most were inferior and the best ones cost a fortune.
Small tags reflected the light, numbers written in careful ink.
But despite the enormous price, they only seemed like old junk compared to Haru's sword.
None of them carried the same presence, the same silent weight.
But still, he tells himself that one of them can do the job at the beginning.
His fingers hovered slightly above the hilts, hesitant.
The man returns.
The door behind him closed with a dull sound.
Akira rushes to the counter to hear more about the information he was able to get.
His heartbeat picked up slightly, anticipation tightening his chest.
The man came back with a thick book.
Dust lifted as he placed it down, the pages worn from years of use.
While flipping through it, he then tells Haru and Akira what he knows for now.
His finger slid across the lines, stopping from time to time.
"I will first talk to you about the material used for the blade while I look through all the initials that are currently in my book. For the material, it is a high-nickel steel. You can see yellowish grains that show a certain purity. It is rare to have a blade in nickel, but with visible yellow residues, it makes it even more unique. It is truly a very rare and unique piece. Having it in possession is a real blessing."
The man runs his finger over the lines to check each word before finding a similarity between the initials A.Z and several people, but the confirmation of the former owner remains uncertain.
His eyes narrowed slightly, focused.
He has already eliminated one of the men from his list because it is impossible that one of his swords would be here.
A faint hesitation crossed his face, as if something did not make sense.
Haru remains really disappointed but he managed to know that his blade is one of the best.
A faint frustration lingered in his expression, but behind it, a quiet pride began to settle.
Akira moves toward one of the swords that had caught his eye and asks the man if he can take it to make it into a legendary sword and that at that moment he will bring it back to him.
The blade felt slightly cold in his hands, its weight unfamiliar yet strangely reassuring.
"Can I take this one? I will make it into a legendary sword, and when I do, I will bring it back to you."
The man starts laughing until tears come to his eyes.
His laughter echoed loudly in the shop, breaking the heavy atmosphere that had settled earlier.
But Akira lets him know that he was a cursed child.
The words fell sharply, cutting through the laughter like a blade.
"I am a Cursed Child."
Despite his reluctance, he accepts unwillingly.
The man's expression shifted, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared.
He tells himself that thanks to the two young boys, he was able to touch and analyze a blade that he would never have been able to see in his life.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Haru's sword, almost regretful.
"…Fine. Take it."
Akira and Haru then leave the shop.
The door creaked again as they stepped outside, the scent of mint and lavender fading behind them.
Both of them had the same idea at the same time, to have a duel to see which one of the two was the best.
A silent excitement passed between them, visible in the way they glanced at each other.
But for today they did not have the time.
The sun had already begun to lower, casting longer shadows across the street.
The way back would take them the rest of the day and Akira had to return home before the sun started to set.
A slight urgency settled in his chest as he looked at the sky.
Arriving near the village, Haru takes Akira's sword and tells him that he will go hide it with his in the hole.
The wind had become softer here, carrying the familiar scent of their village.
"I will hide it with mine."
Since Haru has no time restrictions, he can go there.
His tone was casual, almost carefree.
Akira returns home on time, his parents do not ask him any questions this time.
The house felt quiet, almost unusually calm.
When night falls, Akira once again cannot sleep.
The darkness wrapped around the room, broken only by faint traces of moonlight.
This time he was too impatient to face Haru, to use his own sword for the first time.
His fingers twitched slightly as if remembering the grip of the handle.
And that night he manages to fall asleep with a smile.
A soft warmth remained on his face even as sleep finally took him.
The next day, he gets ready very quickly to go outside, which alerts his parents.
The sound of hurried movements echoed lightly in the house.
But they could not keep him locked inside during summer and despite everything they remain happy that for the first time Akira has a friend.
A quiet relief settled in their eyes, even if they did not say it out loud.
Going outside, Akira tries to find Haru but he does not seem to be there yet.
The morning air felt fresh, slightly cool against his skin.
This frustrates Akira who wanted to use his new sword immediately.
A small tension built inside him as he walked.
While walking in the street, he goes to the largest square of the village and sits on a bench.
The wood beneath him felt rough, worn by years of use.
On the bench next to him there were three children, one girl and two boys.
Their voices were low, almost blending into the background.
The older of the two boys, who seemed to be the same age as Akira, stared at him intensely.
His gaze did not waver.
« What… who is that… why is he looking at me like that… despite me being a cursed child most people are used to my presence but him it feels like it is the first time he sees me his face is really strange his skin is very pale and his eyes are really very dark he might be dead or even worse »
A cold sensation ran along Akira's spine.
The young boy gives chills of anxiety to Akira.
The air around him suddenly felt heavier.
He is not comfortable until Haru arrives.
The tension in his shoulders remained until that moment.
Akira was really happy to see him again.
Relief spread instantly through his chest.
The two then go toward the hiding place of the swords.
Their steps became quicker, more eager.
After the same short path, they finally arrive.
The familiar rustling of leaves greeted them.
They remove the leaves and each grab their swords.
The metal reflected faint light as it was uncovered.
At first, they try to fight as best as possible but they were very afraid of hurting each other.
Their movements were hesitant, careful.
Until the moment when Haru accidentally cuts Akira's arm.
A sharp sensation spread instantly.
Akira has a small tear that falls from his eyes but he remains happy.
The sting lingered, warm and real.
The cut was not serious, after one or two days it would already be healed.
Blood traced a thin line along his skin before stopping.
Throughout the day they continue to fight but in vain.
The sound of blades clashing echoed lightly in the empty space.
It was time for Akira to return home.
The sky had already begun to change color.
After that day, time passes, each day Akira returns more and more injured but his parents simply think of cuts from thorns or falls.
Their concern never reached suspicion.
Three months later.
The air had changed, heavier, warmer.
Akira and Haru had now gained confidence in fighting, whether in handling or even taking hits.
Their movements were sharper, faster.
But frustration takes over Akira day by day, for three months he has never managed to beat Haru even once.
The thought weighed on him constantly.
« Why… I am supposed to be different… »
He always found it strange because he was a chosen one, a unique being, while Haru remains quite normal despite everything.
That idea stayed, unanswered.
Haru approaches Akira and helps him get up.
Their breathing was heavy, uneven.
They hide their swords and they have to leave.
The leaves covered the blades once again, hiding their secret.
Haru looks at Akira and says to him:
A soft smile appeared on his face.
"You will see, soon we will be able to change the world. If we continue like this, we will be able to do it. Yes, I believe in my dream… no, our dream. Come on, let's go home, little brother."
Akira and Haru return to the village.
The path felt familiar now, almost comforting.
For both boys, these moments spent together were surely the most beautiful they had ever experienced since their birth.
A quiet warmth followed them.
Each had found a friend, a brother on whom they could rely to achieve their goals.
And for the first time, neither of them felt alone.