Fate Coiling Sword

Chapter 1: Golden Prize

Beta read by Shigiya, Solitary heart and Neoalfa

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What would one consider a curse?

A wish or a desire  of someone to inflict harm to those who they loathed at their very core and those they wished to see suffer without end. A step away from death but still not considered living, a fine line between two extremes where the outcome always ended in a tragedy. One side reveling in the misery of another, cruel and unforgiving. A path very few chose even against their worst enemy.

What about the path of a corrupt soul? Going through a hellish moment of physical and mental torture done to them at every waking moment. Feeling their inside twist and turn by vile creations of another—yet still clinging to that little light in the darkness. One that offered a bright smile in their darkest hours and stopped them from becoming a monster.

What about being forced to live for a brief moment? Cursed to see one's life drain away while being powerless to change anything. Locked in a cold and dark box with no one but yourself and the life that slowly drained away. Always looking through the window at others with a fake smile hiding all the rage. Trapped in a luxurious cage for years, all alone with the knowledge of being abandoned for another.

Others had different meanings for the word.

For some, the real curse could be none other than themselves. Being the source of all the misery caused to their loved ones, they looked at with hatred and scared eyes. Reaping what they sow, the horrifying aftermath of their actions, which they had little to no control. Yet they had no one else to blame but themselves and the gods. To live secluded, praying to be forgotten and never let such tragedy happen again, by chaining down their emotions and living in permanent loneliness.

He wished to change their lives. To symbolize the hope that he would be there for them no matter how much time flew by and how far gone some of them thought themselves to be—no matter what happens. They could hate him for his actions, they could push him away all they wanted, and he would always come back with a smile.

He could see their dreams. He could feel their pain and know their fear.

To save them, he didn't want to regret anything. He wanted to make all the tragedies that happened into meaningful things by believing that his path was right. Neither would he ever ask for something in return. Simply seeing them smile would bring all the joy in the world.

"I am the bone of my sword…."

He would make it happen, no matter what obstacles came to block his way. He would make them smile, no matter who dared to intervene. His body was made of swords, and his will was straight and unwavering to the tempering of fate.

Cutting down everything…

Nothing will make him back away from the vilest to the holiest, from the weakest to the strongest.

"Steel is my body, and fire is my blood."

He was initially broken, devoid of purpose, yet given one at the end. A promise which he adhered to until now. To become a hero was his promise…

He was going to save them.

"Giving up everything to create countless swords."

Save them from themselves and others.

Save them from the twisted cogs of fate.

A war had started.

Not a war between countries, but a war between people. Where the most brutal of death was the final outcome, a tradition usually held every sixty years yet came earlier on its fifth cycle. He despised this war with every cell in his body, once that he wished never came to be, to ignore the calling… yet in a deep corner of his mind—he hesitated.