Watcher of Fate

Elara lay on the stone floor, her body aching from the brutal encounter with the Anvilator. The smoke from the fallen automaton drifted upwards, mingling with the heat from the forge. As she slowly pushed herself up, her eyes locked onto the spirit crow perched atop the forge's chimney.

"You know, you're kind of a jerk," she said, her voice raspy from exertion and pain.

The crow's head tilted to the side, its dark eyes glinting with curiosity. "Oh, really now? Did the little human just speak to me?" it cawed, sounding amused. "How quaint."

Elara took a deep breath, wincing at the pain that still throbbed through her body. "Yes, I'm talking to you, featherbrain. You sat there the whole time, making snide comments while I was fighting for my life."

The crow fluttered its wings, its form shimmering slightly as if made of shadow and smoke. "This is rich," it said, its tone dripping with skepticism. You really expect me to believe that you can see and hear me? A mere human?"

Elara narrowed her eyes at the crow. "Believe it or not, I can. And I don't appreciate the running commentary, especially when I'm in the middle of a fight."

The crow let out a caw that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "Oh, this is priceless! Do you hear that, forge? The little human claims she can see and hear me!" It hopped from one foot to the other, clearly enjoying the situation.

"I can see you," Elara insisted, standing up straight despite the pain. "And I can hear you just fine. My [Thread of Fate (Legendary)] brought me here for a reason, and I'm going to find out why." She started to look around the forge, her eyes scanning the various swords and weapons that lay scattered around.

Elara began pushing the swords into the spirit domain using her [Dimensional Link (Rare)] spell. Each sword shimmered and disappeared, transported to the Spirit Tree's domain. The crow cawed as if laughing at her efforts.

"Oh, this is rich!" the crow exclaimed between caws. "You really think Fate brought you here? I've got a story about Fate for you."

Elara paused, intrigued. "All right, featherbrain, let's hear your story about Fate."

The crow fluttered its wings and settled more comfortably on the chimney, its dark eyes gleaming with a mix of nostalgia and bitterness. "Ah, where to begin with this tale of Fate?" it mused, almost to itself. "You see, this dungeon wasn't always a place of darkness and danger. It spawned over the old dwarven stronghold of Barrowdeep. Centuries ago, Barrowdeep was a bustling hub of industry and craftsmanship, a jewel in the crown of the dwarven nation. But as the nation declined, so did Barrowdeep, eventually becoming the forgotten ruin you see today."

Elara listened intently, her hands still moving to push more swords into the spirit domain. The crow's story piqued her curiosity.

"Back in Barrowdeep's heyday," the crow continued, "this forge was the domain of a grand master blacksmith, renowned across the lands for his unparalleled skill. People traveled from distant realms to commission his work, each piece a masterpiece. One day, an elf prince arrived, claiming that Fate had sent him. He had a vision, a dream, of a sword that would change the world. Intrigued, though hesitant, the blacksmith agreed to hear him out. Elves and dwarves weren't exactly on friendly terms, you see."

The crow paused, its eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the forge below. "The elf prince had an extraordinary idea, a sentient sword imbued with one of his own skills. This concept defied tradition and pushed the boundaries of what was possible. The blacksmith, despite his reservations, felt the pull of Fate. He couldn't refuse. He crafted the blade with all the skill and care he could muster, and the elf prince infused it with his skill, breathing life into the metal."

Elara's eyes widened as the story pieces began falling into place. The crow's tale of collaboration between the dwarf and the elf, the creation of a sentient sword, and the tragic fallout made her think. She glanced up at the crow, its form shimmering with an otherworldly light, and realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

"Wait a minute," she said, her voice filled with astonishment. "You're not just any spirit, are you? You're the spirit of the sword they forged together, aren't you?"

The crow's eyes gleamed with a mix of surprise and acknowledgment. "Sharp, aren't you, little human?" it said with a nod. "Yes, I am the spirit of the sword. The elf prince and the dwarven blacksmith poured their souls into creating me. They succeeded in making a sentient weapon, but the cost of my growth was too great for any warrior to bear."

"Yes," the crow replied a hint of pride. "I was born from that collaboration, a testament to their combined genius. But here's where Fate's cruel twist comes in. While most spirit-bound growth items require a modest cost, mine demands 85% of the wielder's experience points. The price was too high, rendering me unusable. This failure sparked bitter arguments between the dwarves and elves, leading to a rift that neither side could mend. The blacksmith, devastated by what he saw as his greatest failure, never attempted another masterwork. He hung me above his forge as a constant reminder of his heartbreak. He died with that sorrow, and here I remain, a product of Fate's cruel irony."

Elara felt a pang of sympathy for the spirit. It must have been lonely, stuck here for centuries, unable to fulfill its purpose. "That's a heavy burden to carry," she said gently. "But you were created for something great. You were meant to change the world."

The crow let out a soft caw, almost a sigh. "That's what the elf prince believed. But the reality of my existence has been quite different. I have watched adventurers come and go, unable to bind with me. None willing to pay the price."

Elara's resolve hardened. She knew that Fate had brought her here for a reason. The spirit sword wasn't meant to remain a forgotten relic. "Well, I think it's time to change that," she said, her voice filled with determination. "I can't claim any exp from kills so you can have 100%. We'll grow stronger together."

The crow stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. "You're serious?" it finally asked, its tone incredulous.

"Absolutely," Elara replied, her eyes shining with determination. "I can't think of a better use for my kills' experience than to grow stronger together."

The crow spirit looked at her with newfound respect and curiosity. "Well then, little human, perhaps Fate isn't such a terrible mistress after all. Let's see where this path leads us."

Elara nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She knew the bond she would forge with the spirit sword would lead her to even greater adventures. Determined to see this through, she began climbing up the side of the forge chimney towards where the crow was perched.

The heat from the forge was intense, the stone warm beneath her hands as she carefully ascended. She could feel the crow's watchful gaze upon her, its eyes following her every movement. The climb was treacherous, but Elara's determination propelled her upward. Finally, she reached the ledge where the crow sat, and there, hanging on the wall, she saw it, the sword.

It was covered in centuries of soot and grime, almost blending into the dark stone. But even beneath the layers of neglect, Elara could see the craftsmanship. The hilt was adorned with intricate woven knotwork, so intricately woven that it seemed multidimensional, shifting, and intertwining in ways that defied logic. Though covered in grime, the blade was as sharp as the day it was forged, holding an aura of latent power.

Elara gently brushed away some soot, revealing more of the sword's true form. The metal was a dark, silvery hue, unlike any she had seen. It felt ancient and timeless, a weapon forged not just for battle but for destiny itself. The knotwork along the hilt began to shimmer softly as her fingers traced them, responding to her touch.

"This is it, isn't it?" she asked, glancing at the crow. "The sword you spoke of."

The crow nodded, its eyes glinting with pride and sadness. "Yes, this is the blade forged by the grand master blacksmith and the elf prince. A weapon born of Fate, waiting for the one who can wield it."

Elara carefully lifted the sword from its place on the wall, feeling its weight in her hands. It was surprisingly well-balanced, almost like an extension of her arm. Despite the layers of grime, she could sense the power within, waiting to be awakened.

As she held the sword, the crow fluttered down from its perch, landing beside her. "Remember, little human," it said solemnly, "binding with this sword comes with a cost. Are you ready to share 85% of your exp with me?"

Elara looked at the sword, feeling a connection she couldn't quite explain. With a grin, she joked, "I have no use for it. You can have it all."

The crow chuckled, a soft caw escaping its beak. "85% is enough," it remarked, its eyes glinting with approval.

The knot work on the sword glowed brighter, seamlessly bridging the moment of decision into action. Elara felt a surge of energy flow through her, a bond forming between her and the sword's spirit. As the connection solidified, she turned to the crow, her curiosity piqued.

"Are you sure you're better than my [Spirit Tree Stick (Excellent)]?" she asked, holding up the stick she had come to rely on.

The crow's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Anything from a spirit tree is nice," it conceded, "and the extra damage it does against undead is handy."

Elara's eyes widened in surprise. "It does extra damage against undead? I didn't know that."

"Indeed," the crow cawed, sounding almost smug. "But there are more than just basic undead in the world. I will get stronger with use, much stronger, and much faster than other growth weapons due to my 85% exp siphon."

The crow paused, its gaze turning critical. "Honestly, I'm unsure how you even won your last fight. It was like the automaton was half drunk and nearly broken down when you attacked it. You did no real damage until a miracle occurred, and you destroyed its power core."

Elara felt embarrassed but quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the task. As she gripped the sword, she felt it integrate with her spirit. A warmth spread through her, almost like a comforting embrace, mingling with the newfound power. The sensation was intense yet soothing, gradually settling until it became a part of her.

With the bond established, the spirit crow fluttered to land on Elara's shoulder. She felt its weight settle as she activated her [Parkour (Uncommon)] skill, gracefully leaping from the chimney to the ground below. Her movements were fluid and precise, each landing soft and controlled. Once on solid ground, she looked at the sword in her hand, and an identification box popped up:

Added [Naitharon (Flawless)]

Elara glanced at the crow. "Your name is Naitharon," she said softly.

The crow nodded. "That is what the elf named the sword afterward. It means 'shamed iron' in Elvish."

Elara felt a pang of sympathy for the spirit. "I'm sorry you were given such a name," she said gently. "But we'll change that together."

The crow's eyes softened. "Thank you, little human," it replied, tone less mocking.

"Now, what's the next step?" Elara asked, eager to continue their journey.

"I'm trying to share my imbued skill with you," the crow responded, "but I'm having trouble."

"Is it a combat skill?" Elara inquired.

"Yes, it's called [Blade Dance (Rare)]."

Blade Dance: This skill allows the wielder to move in combat with unparalleled grace and speed, turning every strike into a deadly dance. It enhances reflexes, agility, and precision, making the wielder a whirlwind of lethal motion.

Elara shook her head. "I can't learn combat skills. My class forbids it."

The crow's eyes widened. "That's going to make life more difficult. Are there any exceptions?"

Elara sighed. "I'm allowed to use skills provided by items, but it's costly."

The crow pondered for a moment before responding, "Alright, let's start with something simpler. How about we try sharing a basic skill like [Swordsmanship (Common)]?"

Elara hesitated but nodded. "Okay, let's give it a try."

Swordsmanship: This fundamental skill provides the wielder with basic techniques in sword fighting, including proper stance, grip, and simple strikes. It's the foundation of many advanced combat techniques.

The crow cawed softly. "I'll guide you through it. Focus on my instructions."

Elara concentrated, feeling a strange sensation as the crow's knowledge began to flow into her mind. She felt her stance adjust, her grip on her imaginary sword tighten, and the movements became more natural.

"This is... different," Elara murmured, her eyes wide with wonder. "I can feel the basics, but it's still just a glimpse."

Gained access to the shared skill [Swordmanship (Common)] while holding [Naitharon (Flawless)].

The crow nodded approvingly. "It's a start. You won't be helpless anymore, even if it's not your class's way."

Elara smiled, feeling a spark of hope. "Thank you. I wasn't planning on being an adventurer, but I need to survive this dungeon."