A New Hand Touches the Blade

After seeing all that I went through to get a new body, just to save some young boy.

I fell from my sheer idiocy.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" The young boy quickly shouted. He began shaking me. Yet I did not respond, the only thing I was doing was large breaths.

Granted I didn't command the body to do this, I assume my feeling are showing throughout my puppet. Yet who cares anyway.

I left my strong puppet damaged beyond repair just to save a weak boy.

I could barely think of anything else, just replaying this situation over and over again through, what I could best describe is my mind or whatever sort of mind an enchanted weapon could have.

I titled my puppet's head to the boy, to see what I saved and if there was any potential.

The boy had short dark blonde hair, one of his eyes was swollen shut but the other just had bruises, I could tell he had bright green eyes, his clothes were ragged and torn to shreds, he looked around the age of 10 or 11. I could probably guess a more accurate description yet I have no interest in doing so.

I used the arm of the puppet to try and lift myself up, it appears my hunt for a new body must continue.

Yet instead of rising up, I fell again. I was confused by this at first, I didn't command the body to do that? Then I felt pain all over both my bodies.

All the pain that my puppet body has gone through is finally being recognized.

This utterly confused me, how am I able to finally able to feel pain?

Then in utter dread I quickly understood.

My puppet is starting to gain control of his body back, and it's instinctively trying to push away my control over it. And without my control, all of the pain and emotions are violently starting to resurface.

Like a twisted cacophony, my voice and the original body's voice became to scream and grunt in pain.

In moments of clarity throughout this pain, I looked to the boy. While he wasn't saying anything, he look up and down my body. He used his hands to cover my chest wound.

While it is a futile effort, I shall give credit to the boy for his consideration.

And I guess that is all I need to convince me, not like I needed much convincing, to use this next body for a short time.

I tried to speak using the puppet's mouth yet it refused to obey me. I tried moving my limbs yet it is painful and near impossible to do so.

The pain only continued to get worse, as now my connection to the puppet is forcibly getting removed, yet not quick enough as I can still painfully feel the body's wounds.

"I..I," the boy started stuttering, "I can go find someone! Surely someone nearby knows healing magic!" The boy began to get up and run near the exit of the alley.

Then in my firer instance with the former owner of this body, in perfect synchrony are voices intertwining to yell,

"NO!"

The boy immediately stopped and turned around to look at us.

"The sword... The sword." Are voices said in a raspy and painful tone?

The boy slowly came closer, he kneeled on both legs to see my sheathed body.

Now I was going to say 'take the sword,' yet this original body wanted to 'destroy it.'

What came out of our mouth was," ta-, de-, ta' de," in a repeating fashion.

The boy looked at us in confusion and sadness, yet he made no movements. He just watched and listened to this dying body.

In a final moment of desperation instead of focussing on talking I took control of the boy's right arm and ripped the sheath off the body, tearing the belt of the scabbard holster on the body and holding it up to the boy.

The original owner in complete shock stopped taking control over his own body, I then took this moment to have one final say in the body.

"Take it." I proudly said in only my voice.

The boy looked at me, and then the body I was slowly losing control of.

His hands began to hover over me, and the arm that was holding me was beginning to waiver, 'what if he never. takes me?' I thought to myself.

'What if I am forgotten here, who knows how long I shall lay in this alley before someone takes notice of me.'

There was silence for a short time after that, probably only a few seconds. Yet it was the longest part of my life. It felt even longer than the time I was entombed in that catacomb.

Yet before more existential dread washed upon me, the boy gently laid his hands upon the scabbard and took me away from my former puppet's grasp.

I then immediately cut the connection off of my former body. Even though I could possibly have dominion over two bodies, it is not worth it to carry around a soon to be useless corpse.

The body let out a silent shriek and violently laid down his head against the ground.

My former puppet is now no more, and my new one is ready!

The boy looked at the lifeless body. The emotion... was hard to detect. In fact, everything around me was hard to detect.

Everything is so hazy so dark, everything is getting dizzy and darker.

'What is happening to me?' I thought to myself. Yet I couldn't think of an answer. Maybe I should rest.

Yes rest, when was it the last time I took a rest. What do the mortals call suspended animation activity that they all do?

Ah yes sleep, I remember that from the memories of my former puppet. I think I should give it try, it seems like a fun activity to escape this dizzy world.

Then the world became darker, and my eye that was so perfectly embedded into the hilt of my body similarly darken as well.

That was when I first tried to action known as resting.