The campfire light bathed Asahi’s hands in a flickering orange glow.
The nights in Hoshino were quiet. The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves was a sound they hadn't heard back when they were treading across the scorched sands. The sound of living leaves rubbing together. The sound of a world that wasn't dry.
Asahi rested his greatsword across his knees, wiping the blade with a cloth. Suddenly, his hand stopped.
"...What is this?"
A fissure ran through the center of the blade. The sword, forged from the same ore as the veins of Kyozou, had seen its cracks deepen ever since they crossed the border of the sands. He had known that. But now, as the firelight filtered through the steel, something was shimmering deep within the crevice.
Koyoi sat up, still huddled in his blanket.
"Asahi? What’s wrong?"
"Come here. Look at this."
There was no anger in Asahi’s voice. That was rare enough that Koyoi approached him without hesitation.
Inside the gap of the crack, tiny crystals were lined up in a row. They pulsed with a faint green light, caught in the reflection of the fire. Koyoi caught his breath. It was the same color as the crystals he had seen emerging from the bark of the trees since they entered Hoshino.
"Is it... alive?"
"How should I know? But this thing isn't just breaking. Something is growing out from the inside."
Kuon closed his codex and adjusted the focus of his prosthetic eye on the sword. A pale blue light crawled across the surface of the blade like an insect. Kuon remained silent for a long time. The fire popped, sending a spray of sparks into the night sky.
"...It is only a hypothesis."
"Spit it out."
"There is a possibility that this ore shares the same composition as the strata of Hoshino. It would be logical if the foundation veins of Kyozou were originally mined from this very region."
Kuon narrowed his artificial eye and began scribbling in his codex.
"Before 'The Law' governed the world, minerals and plants existed here without distinction. Minerals grew crystals, crystals struck roots, and roots carried names. If that sword was forged from a segment of that ancient cycle—"
"Are you saying the smith screwed up?"
A thorn of defensiveness entered Asahi's voice. Kuon shook his head.
"Not a mistake. A change in purpose. It was never intended to be used as a weapon. That ore is a fragment of the world’s cycle itself."
Silence fell over them.
Only the crackle of the campfire remained. In the distance, the trees of Hoshino swayed in the wind, the rustle of leaves washing over them like waves on a shore. Koyoi watched Asahi’s profile as he clutched his drawstring pouch to his chest.
Asahi didn't move the sword from his knees. The green of the crystals flickered in the dancing light. His knuckles had turned white where he gripped the hilt.
"...Asahi."
"Just stay quiet."
But his voice wasn't harsh. Koyoi closed his mouth, leaving his words unsaid.
A long time passed. The fire burned low, the charcoal pulsing like a red heart, yet Asahi remained still. Kuon closed his codex and dimmed the light of his prosthetic eye, looking down. Koyoi realized he was waiting.
Finally, Asahi spoke.
"Kuon."
"Yes?"
"If this thing wasn't meant to be a weapon... then what was it?"
"I do not know. There are no records. It is a fragment of the world from before The Law."
Asahi let out a short breath through his nose. He lifted the sword and ran a finger along the glowing fissure. Koyoi saw a faint vibration travel through his fingertips as he touched it.
"The user decides what the tool is."
Asahi’s voice was low and steady.
"I’ll be the one to listen to what this thing wants to be."
With that, Asahi spread out his cloth and began to wrap the sword with deliberate care. The usual roughness was gone. He moved as if to avoid the crystals, checking the position of his hands with every turn of the cloth to ensure he didn't touch the crack.
Inside his pouch, Koyoi felt the Shinteki—the divine drop—tremble ever so slightly. It vibrated at the same frequency as the hum coming from the earth of Hoshino.
"...Asahi."
"What?"
"Does that sword feel... a little warmer than before?"
Asahi didn't stop wrapping the blade. But the corner of his mouth twitched, just a fraction.
"You're imagining things."
Kuon reopened his codex, a faint light returning to his eye.
"It is not an imagination. It is synchronizing with the ground temperature of Hoshino. The ore in the sword is remembering the warmth of its home soil."
"Since when does a rock 'remember' anything?"
"In the world before The Law... perhaps they did."
Asahi returned the wrapped sword to his back and tightened the leather straps. He stood up and looked out into the forest of Hoshino stretching beyond the fire. The living trees swayed in the night breeze. To eyes that had seen nothing but sand for so long, the depth of that green felt almost impossible to believe.
"Go to sleep. We walk again tomorrow."
"What about you, Asahi?"
"I'll take the last watch."
Koyoi crawled back into his blankets. Before he closed his eyes, he saw Asahi sit back down by the fire, resting a hand on the sword at his back. His expression looked as though he were straining his ears, listening for a sound only he could hear.
The night in Hoshino was deep, and it smelled of warm, fertile earth.