Chapter 10 – The Sword Chooses

The temple had fallen silent. The air was thick—heavy with tension and unspoken fear. Shadows danced around the broken pillars, and the glowing embers of their small campfire flickered like dying memories. Then Kael broke the silence. “Why the hell are we even listening to this guy?” he snapped, standing and pointing toward Ravaa. “We don’t even know what he is. We should just take the sword and sell it.” His voice echoed sharply off the cold stone. Ravaa didn’t flinch. He stood still—serene, golden, timeless—like he had seen a thousand arguments before this one and already knew how they’d end. “You don’t choose the sword now,” Ravaa said, his voice quiet but firm. “The sword chooses you. Your fates… they are no longer your own.” Zayn scoffed, arms crossed, leaning against a broken archway. A crooked grin played on his lips. “So what now? You’re the Rakshak? The chosen one?” he said mockingly. “Because if that’s the twist, I’ve got a bag of credits ready to bet against it.” Ravaa turned to him slowly. “No,” he replied. “I’m not the Rakshak. I was only chosen before the Rakshak. I was meant to guide… not to rule.” “So Nyra is the Rakshak?” Lilu asked, wide-eyed, half-hoping for something magical to unfold. Nyra tensed. She hadn’t spoken, but her hand tightened on the sword. “No,” Ravaa said. “None of you are. Not yet. The sword will decide. It must. That is its design.” A long silence. Riven stepped forward, eyes narrowed, his voice low and careful. “Why would we trust a sword? Or you? Why should we turn our backs on the Demon Chief and start… whatever this is?” Ravaa’s glow dimmed, ever so slightly. The firelight caught his expression—one of deep sorrow, not judgment. “Because the demons are the reason your parents are dead,” he said quietly. The words hit like thunder. Lilu blinked rapidly. “What…?” “You knew our parents?” she whispered, voice cracking. Ravaa turned to her, nodding slowly. “I knew them all. And everyone who’s lived across the nine realms. All except the demons. They were never born… They were created. Twisted from elements meant for beauty into things meant for ruin.” Kael’s fists clenched. “So they weren’t even alive?” “Not truly,” Ravaa said. “Not like you. And they’re spreading, corrupting every realm. Males are enslaved or slaughtered. Females used for—” he paused, his voice tightening, “—for pleasure. And those who rise, who dare resist, are hunted.” Zayn muttered under his breath. “This is messed up…” “So what,” Kael barked, “we’re supposed to just kill Rashka? The god-king of demons? Just like that?” Ravaa shook his head. “It’s not that simple. The sword knows what must be done. When the time is right, it will tell you. It always does.” Nyra, silent until now, lifted the sword. It gleamed for a moment in the firelight. Cold. Heavy. Silent. “Then tell us,” she said. “Sword… what do we do?” Everyone watched, breath held. Then, just below the bottom-most empty gem slot—a line of glowing spirit script appeared, shimmering faintly in pale blue light. Seek the door in the East. Kael stepped forward, squinting. “So this is our location then… We’re being led.” “Not led,” Ravaa said. “Tested.” The fire crackled. No one spoke for a while. They were tired. Frustrated. Caught between a mission they no longer believed in and a truth they weren’t ready to face. So one by one, they laid down—near the broken walls, under a shattered roof open to the strange night sky. The stars overhead were twisted, burning in impossible patterns, like symbols meant for minds far older than theirs. Nyra sat by the sword, her eyes unmoving. Kael lay down with arms behind his head, staring into nothing. Lilu curled up beside Riven, who kept one eye open. Only Zayn looked back at Ravaa as he drifted to sleep. “Are we just pawns to you?” he asked. Ravaa didn’t answer. He stood alone, watching the sky, where the stars themselves looked afraid to shine. And in his mind, a question echoed louder than all the rest: Are these the ones? Are they worthy?