"Thank you," said Valthor, as Tizrin handed the rapier back to him. "What's the verdict?"
The little rabbit-man artificer looked up at him. "Well," he said in his soft, almost furry voice, "it isn't cursed. It's just... bound to you, somehow. And it's a pretty basic magic weapon, enchanted to make it more likely to hit and to do a bit more damage... except, it has some hidden magics sealed away. Abilities that haven't been activated yet."
"Oh?" asked Valthor. He'd grown up around dark magics and even less savory practices, but he wasn't a spellcaster himself.
Tizrin nodded. "Oh yes, and what's very weird is that its bond to you is connected to the seal. You'll still need to attune to it, and after that maybe you can figure out how to unlock more of it."
"Thank you," Valthor said again. "I will."
It was later, alone in his room, when Valthor would draw the blade again and study it. It felt good in his hand, light and ready. He made a few passes with it, then sheathed it again.
Well, she was definitely my sister, then. What were you up to, Mother? He could make no guess on that front; he simply didn't know his mother well enough. She had taught him magical theory, shown him the bladesinging style she used with her sword, asked him questions designed to to make him think about his other siblings: what they wanted, how they went about getting it. She had never never discussed her own feelings about the rest of the court or her interactions with them, though.
What were you up to?
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