Returning Memories

Myra closed the book with red, sleep-deprived eyes and gazed out the window, barely able to think around the torrent of words and images roiling in her mind. "It's almost dawn," she thought, only slightly surprised by the faint blue light on the horizon.

One passage from the book stuck in her mind: "Though the relics remaining from Zairu are few, one is a highly unusual metal alloy, composed of steel, mythril and orichalcum, the latter two being very rare metals found in only specific areas around the world, the foremost mythril mine being located about twenty miles from Vale, the capitol of the Valin Kingdom.

This alloy, while unnamed in most of the world, will here be called Zairulian steel, as it was referred to in multiple legends of the lost kingdom. This alloy has many remarkable traits, two of which are especially so. First and foremost, it serves as one of the finest conduits for magic that a mage could ever hope for, being able to channel magical energy almost without limit. Enchantments placed upon this alloy last far longer than with any other object because of this; there is a recorded case of a single spell cast on it lasting for over a century. Second, and much more intriguing, is its ability to bond with those who come into contact with it. For this reason, this alloy was mostly used to create weapons and tools of surpassing quality. In addition, weapons made of this alloy did not always exist; they would appear when their wielder called upon them, and disappear when they were no longer needed. Many of the blades of legend have been composed of this alloy, including such famous examples as Gungrir, Gram, and Hrunting. Only one method is known to undo the bond between weapon and wielder: kill the wielder, and the weapon will bind to the next person to hold it.

Myra shuddered as the implications of those words hit her again. She lifted her hand, palm outward, and focused briefly. Light flashed in front of her, and a beautiful sword with a blue-green blade and a helix pattern engraved into it fell into her waiting hand.

"Father..." Myra murmured. "Is this what the book was talking about? Zairulian steel?"

The blade shimmered in the light, as if in answer.

Myra shook her head, dropping the sword and watching it fade away with another flash of light. "I need to sleep," she thought. "I can ponder this in the morning...er, afternoon."

With that, she turned toward her bed and collapsed onto it, asleep in moments.

The End

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