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(Edited for formatting)

Attenuation time with a magic blade can vary wildly, depending on the age and strength of the blade, its sentience, and the will of it's bearer.

The occasion where I'd claimed mine, tearing it from the rotten hands of a lich which promptly rose in furious battle, didn't offer much opportunity for quick bonding.

That is, until the undead wyrm broke through the cavern wall, thundering it's challenge and throwing Thagror the Barbarian aside with a sweep of it's tail, Hellreaver ringing with a crash to the stone. I threw my trusty yet un-enchanted blade aside and fumbled my newly acquired magical weapon from its sheath. Holding it before me, I rushed through the words I'd been taught, arcane and senseless to my ears but charged with power.

holy shIT WHAT?! The voice echoed as if from a great distance before thundering into my head.

I staggered from the impact, looking up to see Tatiana mid-flurry, dual wielding her weapon Spiteblade and a lesser enchanted as she weaved a metallic blur before the wyrm.

"Um, Blade?" I muttered, unsure of the next step.

How many years I sleep, and I wake to this.

Aelric the Paladin strode before the undead creature, wielding the massive Dragonstooth in both hands before him.

"I don't really like it either," I pleaded with the weapon, "could you please...?"

Ugh, is that Hellreaver? What an ass. I've been at the sides of kings and emperors I'll have you know.

"You're about to join me between the teeth of an Undead Wyrm if you don't do something... magical or whatever."

Hmph. Fine.

The sword shuddered in my grasp, flaring with light so bright I shut my eyes to it and fell to my knees. After a moment everything seemed to still, and I blinked my eyes open against the afterimage the sword had left. The wyrm's open maw hovered feet away.

I leapt backwards, tumbling and quickly gaining my feet before leveling the sword in my hands at the creature. "Sword! Blast! Fire!"

Are you serious? Is this your first time? Look around, idiot, everything's still.

I did so, and turned my eyes back to the glossy metal in my hands. "Wow. How?"

Because I'm not a weak, fleshy mortal. The sigh was inaudible, but clearly felt. Have you ever bonded a magical item before?

"Um, no. This would be a first."

The sword let me know, in no uncertain terms, how displeased it was with this current arrangement. Well, we're gonna get nowhere fast as we are. What's your name?

"Rilidan. And, uh, what's yours?"

Jeff. Now, I need you to open-

"Wait, what, Jeff? Is that what you said?"

Yes, and in fact I projected it directly into your mind. I can only assume the echoes there disrupted that.

"Yeah...but...Jeff..."

Ask one more time and I will snuff out your life force like a guttering candle.

"Ok. Jeff. What do we do next?"

Normally you would lead this, but open your mind and I'll form the bond.

I followed these instructions, and felt a stronger awareness of the sword in my hands, almost a soft thrum between my palms and the hilt.

Ok, now hold me up, level with the Wyrm's forehead. No, idiot, I need slack in your arms to move, I'm going to stab it. Don't drop me. This time freeze will break in just a moment.

And suddenly the world arounds roared back into light and motion, and Jeff the Blade pierced deeply through the skull of the undead creature, a blast of dark magic ripping from its animated corpse. The rest of the party gathered around, congratulating me with hearty handshakes and stress-relieving laughter. We admired our handiwork before moving to collect our hard-won loot.

I paused, glancing down at my new sword. "Thanks Jeff." I whispered.

Don't talk to me. I can literally hear your thoughts. Another one of those sighs. This is going to be a long binding.

"There's always the chance I could die quickly."

Don't give me false hope like that.

"We're gonna do great, Jeff."

Shut up and go find something shiny.

Adrian laughed.

“Yeah. His name is Jeff.”

Darren narrowed his eyes. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! I actually named him Jeff.”

The sharpshooter scoffed at that, Pinpoint slung over his shoulder.

“The name of a guardian’s weapon is to be taken extremely seriously. It’s a unique reflection of the very magic composing it and you called it Jeff?!”

“I was like, 14 then! I kinda just thought it was funny, you know?”

Darren sighed. “What does Jeff do, then?”

Adrian raised his sword as it resonated with great energy.

“Today’s your lucky day. You get to see a live demonstration!”

The guardians approached the headless godborn. It appeared to have a humanoid figure and was riding on a horse. According to Darren, it was a dullahan, a rare and deadly species of godborn. Nevertheless, this was what Adrian had travelled the world for. He was sure of it.

Darren opened fire on the dullahan, raining down homing bullets on the beast. It lashed the air with its spinal whip, trying unsuccessfully to parry. Sensing an opening, Adrian stabbed his sword into the ground and channeled its power.

A line of ivory spikes jutted out of the ground from the blade towards the dullahan. One of the stalagmites managed to impale its body, pinning it in place. It struggled uselessly, flailing around with its whip.

“Keep your distance!” yelled Darren. “There’s no telling what that whip can do!”

“Calm down! I’ve got this.”

Adrian simply pointed Jeff at the creature and its blade extended in an instant, penetrating its skull. One dullahan, dead.

“I don’t get it. What does Jeff do?”

As the dullahan melted away, its eburdoreum whip stayed intact, rushing to Adrian’s sword like paper clips to a magnet.

“Our weapons are built from godbone, each with its own domain, fire, sky, wisdom. Jeff was forged from the bones of the skeleton god.” Adrian said as the sword and whip merged into one. “And that’s what makes him the strongest of them all.”

r/PostPrototypes

Love it!

OP should read Seven Blades In Black by Sam Sykes

Jul'rad and Kerian sheathed their swords, and I marveled as the world--once resplendent in marvelous lights--started to dim back to the natural gloom of the midnight moon. Hellreaver in particular, a nasty flaming sword that both cut and burned through swathes of enemies, had a tendency to light up both cave and nighttime alike. Hellreaver belonged to Jul'rad, and he earned it from a Fairy Queen while he was on his first adventure.

How I envied him. His sword was spoken of in legends and envied even by kings.

Of course, that didn't mean that the rest of my comrades didn't have impressive swords. Kerian had Spiteblade, the Drinker of Souls. Like its brother Hellreaver, Spiteblade wasn't forged by human hands. Born in a land far from us and made by fae that were no longer among us, the magics that gave birth to it were strange and undecipherable to us. All we knew was that it had the capability to deal catastrophic damage to the undead, who were nigh invulnerable otherwise.

While it didn't glow in unholy hellfire like its counterpart, it did glow a slight, ethereal blue that captivated me in the late nights when Kerian decided to tend to it. There was no source of the glow, Kerian wasn't quite so experienced in magic, but that didn't stop the blade from glowing all the same.

We had a running bet that it was glowing from the power of the souls that it devoured. I tried not to think about that.

"Well, we might as well set up camp, then," yelled Charmy. She was a chipper young dwarf that barely came up to our waist. Unlike the rest of her kind, she was bouncy and bubbly, and never without a wide, face-splitting smile on her face. She had come to us rather early in our journey, and invited herself into our party most handedly. "We won't be moving much further without any light and the local monsters don't seem to like us moving at night."

The other two grumbled amongst themselves, but they eventually relented. It was an arguing match whenever I decided that it was time to camp, but for some reason they were always willing to stop when Charmy called for it.

I didn't know whether it was because of Charmy's goodwill, or her inherent beauty, and honestly I wasn't going to ask. She was an easy way to keep them in line, and for that I was grateful.

"Get your things unpacked and set to doing your jobs. I'll start to work on the campfire."

The three of them nodded at me, before getting to work on their own tents. As a druid, I personally didn't enjoy tents. I enjoyed sleeping under the night sky and feeling the forest dirt on my back. I watched as they set off, making sure that they were doing their things, before sitting down.

Spirits of the forest, heed my call. Let the fallen branches be recall.

The tittering of field mice and the low, droning hoot of the single active owl responded to my plea. They arrived shortly, carrying old, dry branches that I could use for the campfire. I nodded and thanked them for their service before letting them back into the forest.

One fire spell later and the campfire was set.

"Charmy. We're all ready for you."

The young dwarf looked up from her project, her telltale smile already on her face. Again, she was a bright and kind and bubbly little thing, who didn't look as if she could hurt a fly. The sword she was currently sharpening, however? That didn't fit her visage at all. It was a large broadsword with nasty jagged edges and a black and red tinted blade. There were magic insignias forged directly into the metal, and they glowed with every stroke of the whetstone along the edge.

It was a truly nasty weapon, one I only got to see in action once. Charmy did not enjoy fighting, another trait she did not share with the rest of her brethren, but she did enjoy creating weapons. Her most recent weapon, Dragonstooth, was her shining masterpiece, and she took meticulous care of it.

It was already a legendary blade. I was sure of it. She said that she had made it from the scales and claws of an Ancient Dragon. I couldn't even imagine what it was like to face an Ancient Dragon. Even their corpses radiated enough strength to taint the land for centuries.

"Gotcha! I'll be right over!"

I nodded as I watched her carefully sheathe Dragonstooth, a blade that cared very little for whatever was placed in front of it. It cut and sawed and tore through any and everything it touched, and Charmy was surely a terror on the field as she carved a path through her enemies.

The stark difference in behavior was so jarring that I had to remind myself that Charmy in combat and Charmy out of combat was the same person. Rather than dwell on the thought, I rose from the firepit and made my way into the forest. If the others saw me go, they didn't say anything. They were already used to my own antics as a druid, and they understood how I preferred the company of the local flora.

As soon as I was surrounded by the oaks and far enough away from the fires, I took out my own sword. It wasn't a legendary blade that could glow in the dark and capture souls, or burn with eternal hellfire. It wasn't a legendarily crafted blade that could slice through anything with a single swing.

Rather, it was a normal shortsword. One that was surely too short for me. It was more akin to a dagger in my large hands, and since I fought with magic it wasn't something that I ever used in combat. I doubted my companions even knew that I had this. If they did, they would ask me why I carried around something that I never used.

Of course, I couldn't use it. A single swing would have been more than enough to snap it in two. And I couldn't have that. Not again.

"Glorious Starlight, Jeff," I whispered. My voice, which would rouse dryads and inspire forest nymphs to dance, was barely strong enough to spur the errant blades of grass that I trampled underfoot. "How went your day?"

I unsheathed my sword, and I smiled as a faint glow, barely stronger than firefly light, emerged from a crack that ran through the middle of it. This was a short sword that I had in my youth, and I used it liberally alongside my best friend as we travelled the forests of our hometown. I had wanted to be a swordsman, you see. As did my friend. Things... did not work out in our favor.

"My day was fine, old friend," Jeff responded. "I reckon it would be better if you tell me what we did while I was stuck in your sheath."

I smiled at the familiar snark in his voice. It was comforting, if not sad to hear. Still, I did owe the old goat a rundown of the day, so I sat myself on a log and prepared myself to tell a story.

There have been a lot of famous enchanted weapons recounted in the tales of Bards and in the lorebooks of Wizards.

There was Svarlang the Shiny- a Paladin's blade, it could blast apart undead and demons with it's Holy Radiance. Medral the Metoric - a hammer that could smash through anything, for nothing was stronger than the starmetal it was cast from. There was Vandrung the Vicious, a stilletto imbued with a point so sharp and a poison so deadly that even Dragons would jump back in fear to avoid its merest scratch. And then there was Jeff. Just Jeff.

Jeff was... different. Special. Not your typical sentient enchanted blade. Not the sort of weapon carried forth into battle by Heroes. Jeff wasn't particuarly dangerous looking or even very impressive. Definitely not flashy or intimidating. Jeff radiated more of an air of quiet, practical efficiency. He came with a nice sheath and his own whetstone, oil, and polish kit.

Despite Jeff's unimpressive appearance he was considered the treasured right hand of monarchs. A Kingmaker, the foundation stone of mighty empires. With Jeff's help a kingdom could flourish and grow, the people could live in plenty with low taxes and well run civil services. For Jeff bore a mighty enchantment, he was created with +5 Accountancy and +5 Civil Engineering.

Jeff the mighty blade of Logistics and Budgeting was truly one of the greatest enchanted blades of the Age!

Appreciate it!

Long ago, the Jade Emperor, ruler of the heavenly realm, commissioned his finest smiths to make him a sword.

But to craft this incredible object is no easy task. The Jade Emperor is a perfectionist and only expected the best of results. So the smiths had to scout the far, far away land, fetching the most exotic and resistant materials.

They must fly higher than the clouds, capturing the gleaming sunlight of the primordial Sun Lord into a crystal flask.

They scattered among the four directions, retrieving the finest mineral from each local Mountain spirits.

They travel deep into the soil, seeking the scorching heat of the center heart of Mother Earth, where they will forge the weapon.

And after nine days and nights of working endlessly, it is here, the legendary weapon!

Do not judge by its simple design, young man, for this is not just any ordinary sword.

Perfected by the heaven’s smiths by the request of the Emperor himself, this is a powerful blade with a swift that can plunge a massive land into a roaring sea of his divine flames, vanish all forests and boil all rivers.

Hence, the name “Jade Emperor's Fiery Flood”. And only the greatest of all heroes, and wield it with absolute skill.

Long, wrinkled fingers reach out, gliding on the shiny metallic blade that perfectly reflects the shopkeeper’s hand, “But people nowadays call it ‘JEFF’. The name is not nearly as matching or extraordinary, but it’s probably for concise and convenient.”

The warrior had been sitting on a chair, listening intensely, clearly drawn by her story. His eyes widen with glittering sparks in it, and his grip on the sword only tightens after the story has ended.

“Ma’am, I would like to purchase this sword, please.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t expect you would…”, the shopkeeper seemed genuinely surprised, “It’s a magical artifact after all, I don’t think it’s appropriate to sell it away.”

Clash–

A heavy leather bag was placed on the table, right in front of the old lady, giving out crystal sounds. Without dropping a beat, she unties the rope around the bag’s mouth and opens it, only to be blinded by the amount of shiny gemstones stored inside.

The warrior insisted eagerly, “500 pieces of rare diamonds, I hope that’s enough.”

The old shopkeeper closed the bag once again, looking up her grin only grew wider, “I think this is just right. The sword is yours.”

As the warrior exited the shop and was soon far from sight, the shopkeeper sat back on her rocking chair, deviously counting the diamond pieces, “Young people are so easy to trick. With that worthless sword, I got this amount of rewards, a fantastic bargain.”

.

.

.

Far from the weapon shop, the warrior soon meets up with the rest of his adventure gang at the edge of the woods.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah, I got it. Can’t believe she actually fell for the fake cash. And it was quick, too.”

“She’s old anyway, of course she has terrible eyesight.”

“Alright, we got a lot of fake swords to report to the guards. The ‘Hellreaver’, the ‘Spiteblade the Drinker of Souls’, the ‘Dragonstooth’, and now the ‘JEFF’.”

“Pfff– JEFF.”

“That old hag just JEFFpardized herself, am I right?”

''-Ugh.'' Gemma groaned as she opened the chest. Why did that stupid dragon HAVE to swallow it? It was all sticky and weird, and her teammate and her had to wait for ages for the stomach acid's effect to wear off. ''I really hope this is worth it.''

Instead of the gold and jewels they all expected, the chest only contained a sword, lying on a dusty cushion. There was some kind of complicated symbol graved on the handle. Gemma cautiously took it, lifting it from the inside of the metal container. To her surprise, the blade started shining a vivid orange as soon as the fresh wind blew over it.

''-Waaaaah... It's good to take a nap. How long have I slept?''

''-What the actual hell?'' the adventurer yelled, dropping the sword.

Clang! The metal hit the ground, and the light turned violet.

''-Aouch! Is that any way to treat a millenial sword? Wait... Am I millenial? When... What... What year are we in?''

Therry, the team's most clever member (That wasn't a lot to say, honestly), crouched down next to the chest and inspected it closely.

''-I'd say it's been forged nearly three centuries ago. Can I see the sword?''

''-Naah! Don't let that dirty green man touch me!''

''-Hey! First of, I'm not dirty, second, I'm a goblin, and third,'' he scooped up the sword, which was now radiating green light, ''I'd say you're as aged as the chest. Conclusion, you aren't millenial. Catch!''

He tossed the sword to Gemma, who instinctively caught it.

''-So, three-centuries-old-sword, what's your name?''

The sword emitted a noise that sounded like coughing, and dramatically announced:

''-My name, O unknown knight, is Jeff, forged by-''

''-Wait, what?''

Gemma almost dropped the sword again.

''-Your name is Jeff? Who even named you?''

''-I'll let you know, knight, that I belong to Enid the Great, Ruler of all lands. She, of all, named me the way I am.''

''-That's a weird name. Also, who's that Enid?''

The sword let out what seemed to be a gasp, even though it had no visible mouth or nose or whatever, and turned blue.

''-You don't know Enid? How?! She is the most known ruler of-''

''-Yeah, yeah, ruler of all lands, you said that alrea-''

''-I know Enid! I know her!'' Therry said, happily jumping.

''-Hah! See? The goblin knows her!''

''-The goblin probably knows more on anything that the rest of the team.'' Gemma sighed.

''-The goblin has a name!''

The other two members of the team shared a look.

''-Well,'' Emmy said. ''Gemma, since you don't have a sword yet, guess that's yours now.''

''-I mean, that's the best choice.'' Logan raised his shoulders.

The sword turned violet again.

''-I'm not going to be hers all of a sudden! Give me back to Enid.''

''-I case you haven't realised,'' Therry chimed in, tapping the ground with his feet, ''Enid's probably in the afterlife by now. She lived more than three centuries ago. No one survives that long.''

''-I-''

''-It's that or you're back in the chest.'' Logan cut the sword off. ''Which do you prefer?''

''-Uh...''

The sword started glowing pink and fell silent, as if it was thinking.

''-I'll come with you, if you try and find Enid.''

''-Deal!'' Emmy shouted before anyone else could say anything.

''-Emmy! Now we have to do it, stupid pointy-ear!'' Therry hit her in the arm.

''-Don't call me that, green-skin!''

''-Hey, calm down!'' Logan stepped between the two before the argument could escalate. ''We'll do it, okay?''

The sword shined gold and let out what seemed to be a joy scream.

''-Yeeeaaaahhh! Let's go, adventurers! Go on, O my swordless knight. Find Enid!''

''-Jeff, I didn't agree to find that unknown Enid just for you to refuse to be my sword! Plus, you can't say no, or we'll leave you in the chest.''

Jeff huffed.

''-Well, O my not-so-swordless knight, go find Enid!''

The goblin, the elf and the human looked at each other.

''-Is she arguing with a sword?'' Emmy started.

''-A magic sword.'' The goblin pointed out.

''-Anyways.'' Logan looked at the sun, slowly descending in the sky. ''Let's go, we need to be in town before the sunset.''

I like it. Reminds me of reincarnated as a sword anime.

Thank you kindly. Haven't seen the anime, but the plot seems intriguing. I'll take the compliment!