Of all the entities in Alliance Castle, none was as miserable as the Star Dragon Sword. If only it could've moved about on its own, it wouldn't've needed the steady procession of fools, dolts, incompetents and weaklings that had wielded it through the millennia. If only it could've moved, it would've run away, maybe to the blacksmith in Kuskus Village. Now there was a fellow who recognized an inherently superior being when he saw one. Or maybe it could strike up a conversation with that Kahn guy, who seemed to have a bit of sense.

But no, it was stuck here in this castle, waiting to be taken up by the same brawny idiot who'd left it in a cavern full of monsters years before. This yokel only had one redeeming quality: a personal vendetta against Neclord the vampire, which meant the sword might get a chance to face him in battle.

Star Dragon Sword existed to slay vampires, and for this it was willing to put up with a lot, even flesh-creatures and their ways. Once every last undead was destroyed, the sword intended to go dormant for a nice, long rest. Forever. No more mortals and their ingratitude, their incessant inane chatter, their eating and drinking and sleeping and snoring!

Not to mention that other thing they were always doing, that it sounded kind of like the halfwit was doing right now. The sword opened one jaded eye, and, sure enough, its unworthy slave had brought another guy back to the room. The nerve, wasting time kissing when there was important work to be done!

Star Dragon Sword made a throat-clearing noise, having noticed that humans did that when they wanted to get someone's attention, then prepared to remind the hulking dimwit for what had to be the sixteenth time today that there was a vampiress downstairs who desperately needed to be hacked into tiny little pieces, burned, and the ashes scattered.

"Don't start," Viktor growled at it. The only reason he kept the conceited, obnoxious weapon in his room in the first place was that he was afraid someone would steal it, and he wasn't very happy about having it in the first place. In fact, he'd abandoned it in the Cave of Wind at the first opportunity, only retrieved it under duress, and planned to throw it right back in there the instant Neclord was confirmed dead.

Star Dragon Sword didn't know that, of course. The fool was being obstinate again! "It would only take ten minutes!" it whined impatiently. The vampiress tantalizingly close, just a short trip downstairs! If only the sword could make Viktor understand how much, how very much, it exulted in destroying undead, how badly it wanted to rip her apart!

"What would only take ten minutes?" Flik asked, startled. He knew the sword was supposed to be sentient, but hadn't given much thought to it before. "You mean it's been watching us all this time?" He pulled away, relieved they were both still mostly dressed and disturbed at the idea of an audience, particularly one this mean and sarcastic. Viktor complained about the sword's attitude all the time. He never would've taken it back if Neclord had been vulnerable to the old stake-in-the-heart treatment.

"Come on, it'll be fuuuuuun!" Star Dragon Sword said, trying to sound persuasive but only succeeding in being annoying, as usual. Mortals always had such a weakness for "fun," whatever that was. They were so easily distracted, so easily swayed. Worse, they died at the drop of a hat. It must be terrible to be a flesh-creature, almost as bad as having to depend on one to move around.

"What would be fun?" Flik demanded.

"The pest wants me to go downstairs and kill Sierra, right now. It's been bugging me about it since she got here."

"But she's one of our allies."

"Try explaining that to Mr. Vampire Slaying Sword here," Viktor quipped as he rolled over and picked Star Dragon Sword up.

Well, that was an improvement! "Good, let's go!" the sword chirped happily, believing it had finally made its point and would soon be rending the vile undead creature below. She was probably asleep. It would be able to pierce her heart with the first blow. Ahhh, that would be sweet.

"It sure has a weird idea of fun."

"You're fine ones to talk!" Star Dragon Sword snapped. "Can we get going now?"

"Maybe it doesn't know what real fun is," Viktor suggested. He used a large corner of the sheet to clean the sword off and winked at Flik once he had the nuisance's vision blocked. Fortunately Flik caught on fast and winked back. "Maybe...it needs to learn."

Star Dragon Sword was shocked speechless. Surely the lout didn't mean --!!

"Mmmmm...that would feel good, Vik," the blond purred, playing along. "Metal heats up really fast."

Viktor held the stunned sword at arm's length and pretended to examine the hilt. "Sturdy, smooth construction. It could give you years of pleasure!"

"Decades," Flik agreed, leering at the sword in what he hoped was a suitably lascivious manner. It took all his willpower to keep a straight face.

Never in its long life had the sword ever imagined being subject to such indignities. How dare they! "LET GO OF ME, YOU MUSCLE-BOUND OAF!" it shrieked. "I AM THE MIGHTY STAR DRAGON SWORD! YOU CAN'T -- CAN'T--!"

"Oh, but I can." Viktor grabbed a conspicuously convenient bottle of oil and dribbled some over the pommel. "Butterscotch, my favorite."

At that moment the sword regretted not having more mortal traits, especially sleeping. Not being able to sleep meant not being able to faint, and it would've given anything to faint right about then. It wouldn't even mind returning to the Cave of Wind, just as long as these ungrateful, horrible creatures put a stop to this.

More oil on the grip, smeared almost to the crossguard. "Behold, the 'mighty' sex toy!"

"You wouldn't," it whimpered, aghast.

"Try me."

"Please, I'll do anything. Anything but that."

Viktor grinned wickedly at this uncharacteristic humility. He'd never heard the sword say "please" to anyone. Indeed, it never had. "I don't know... he's been looking forward to it."

"Please, I'm begging you."

He pretended to consider this a long moment. "You'll have to do something for me in return."

"What?"

"Stop bugging me about Sierra! And quit interrupting us while we're...you know..."

"I'll try."

The two men feigned conferring. "I guess I can let you off this time," Viktor finally drawled, "but one slip and the deal's off. You know what that means." He rose, pulling his shirt on, and Flik followed suit. "Now we're going out -- without you." He dumped the sword on the bed, and the two men left in a hurry.

Helpless to move, Star Dragon Sword had nothing to do but bitterly contemplate the ceiling and listen to the men pad down the castle hall. It sounded like one of them was barefoot. "I'll get you for this, bumpkin," it sneered. "Just you wait! No one treats ME this way!"

Flik and Viktor could hardly contain themselves long enough to get out of earshot. They collapsed laughing, leaning on walls, chairs and each other.

"I...always...SAIDitwasa...painintheass!" Viktor gasped between belly-laughs.

"Easy...forYOUtosay!" Flik retorted, doubled over from laughing so hard. For an hour after that, just looking at each other triggered another laughing fit. Eventually they decided to go down to the tavern for a pitcher of beer, and it was a good thing they were the only customers at that hour, otherwise someone might've asked what was so funny (or why Flik was barefoot), which just would've started them laughing again. Viktor crashed in Flik's room that night because he was afraid they'd tip the sword off by losing their composure again. Arrogant at the best of times, there was no telling how Star Dragon Sword would react if it found out it had been the butt of a joke. Or, Viktor thought idly, the joke of a butt. At least maybe now it would quit pestering him.

Thereafter Viktor was careful to place the sword in the wardrobe whenever they used his room, and, true to its word, it never mentioned Sierra or bothered them again, although sometimes they could hear it making weeping or sighing noises in there, and once or twice they heard it whine, "I wish I'd never been forged!"

Viktor muttered under his breath, "I wish you hadn't, either."

Author's notes:

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Escape Talisman: 500 potch
Lion Rune: 10,000 potch
Putting your ego-sword in in its place: Priceless
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Actually, I have trouble picturing this pairing. They seem more like buddies or rivals.

This is another idea that pounced on me in the middle of the night.

- silver