The Sword Woke Up

Beilin woke inside a sword and felt old hands move through her memory. One careless young wielder was already copying the same habit that had ruined every owner before him. She had to guide him through dance steps, blade angles, and public tests while pretending she was only a weapon on a wall. Then a child’s drawing of a house appeared, perfect down to the last beam, even though she had never visited it. Her family knew that house. That detail made her hands shake in private, because the blade still remembered fear before her mind could explain it. When an old classmate finally came back after a long absence, Beilin saw how much had changed in the group, and how much had not. The person clo...