Of Scars and Daffodils

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AN: comments appreciated :)
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Sam liked the woods behind his house. Since he was a kid, it was his playground and he would wander for hours, looking at the flowers and playing pretend. Now as a teen, he paid attention to the crunch of dried leaves with every step, the feeling of damp bark under his fingertips, and the earthy smell mixing with the scent of ozone. He enjoyed the quiet and the feeling of isolation. The experience was ruined sometimes by the strings that led back home and the shiny metal fence near the end of the property line, but he didn't mind most of the time. He knew it was to keep him from getting lost in the blur of sepia and fern.

He did mind this time, however, cause a little ways beyond the fence, there was something shiny and pastel, which didn't belong in the deep forest. He was curious and it was close enough to make out a vague shape, so he would still be able to see the light glint off the fence. Sam knew he should go back home, his dad was gonna call soon to check in. Maybe he could convince him this was important and get him to come back early. They would do this together and he would gain more trust from him. Or he could do this himself and prove he's independent enough to get the forest back

Sam made his choice and jumped the fence.

Well, more like crawled over the fence. He wasn't athletic enough to jump over a fence that was up to his chest. Once he stabilized over the other side, he looked back over to the shining... something and walked over. He folded his legs underneath him and had a clearer look. And was very grateful he did this by himself.

It was a sword, although much much bigger that the ones that were typically described in fantasy books and movies. It was buried in the ground and it seems the force used was so great the ground around it was shoved out of the way and out to the surface. Placing his hand on the rocks, Sam felt they were partially eroded away and weren't sharp at all. Moving his hand up from the rocks to the giant sword, he displaced dew and grime to reveal metal, cut in a way that made the blade look like pastel crystals. He didn't dare touch the sharp edge, because, even with his sight, he could tell it would cut his hands like a scalpel and he needs his hands. He shook them off while shifting up to his knees to be face-to-face with the hilt.

The hilt was gold and smooth to the touch, the hand guard looking plate like. The inside had a small dirty pool from the recent rain and had moss growing on the inside. Glancing down, Sam noted that the rest of the sword, while not as bad, still had moss and actually some ivy near the base. The sword had been here for a long while, but this was Sam's first time ever seeing it so it couldn't have been here for that long. What a strange sword.

He wonders if he could pull the sword out. It looks like it's really stuck in there, though. He gives it a hard jab to see how loose it is but nothing visibly moves. He sits back on his ankles and thinks. What exactly would he get from pulling out the sword? He doesn't know how to use one and this one, glancing back at the edge, seems uncomfortably sharp to even have in his hands. And how would he hide it? His dad definitely wouldn't let him have it even if he wouldn't know for a month or so. His dad is due to call soon too, so he doesn't have the time. It would be cool to have a sword though. Sam makes his choice.

He wraps his hand around the grip and pulls.
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He's late for work. Well, it's more volunteering than an actual job and he wasn't paid. Anyhow, today's been a bad day for Krystel. And it only just started. He got to work 45 minutes late, red faced with his hair sticking out,basically sprinting out of home. He took a pause however when the lobby was empty. The polished stone room that would normally be bustling with other workers now dwarfed him. The lights were still on and the doors were unlocked so it shouldn't have been completely abandoned but the silence proofed otherwise.

"...Hello? "

His call was left unanswered other than his echoing footsteps. Was it a day off he wasn't told about? But he was specifically told to do maintenance today. He was pacing to fill the silence but the sharp sound ended up sounding more haunting and lonely than comforting... Could his boss have left a note? The secretary desk was piled full of papers and documents. The secretary deserves this day off; she was always swamped with documents and phone calls. This giant workload, although, did make it difficult to find anything. If there was a note, it would be there but it would take so much time to find it. At a glance, there wasn't anything obvious. Should he still work? Well, Krystel should be working, but he never did it by himself.

He steeled himself and walked down the stone corridor.

By himself, the corridor was intimidating. He knew where it led and what was behind the door, but knowing doesn't make him any less nervous. The door was always creaking like it hasn't been oiled in years but he knows that he himself oils it every weekend, but the creak never gets better. He subjected himself to the creak again, so much louder in the silence. He feels ready to jump out of his skin.

No matter what, however, Kris can always count on what's behind the door to make him speechless. The stone hallways shift into jaded rock and crystal clusters softly glowing in the darkness. The silence shifts into something less eerie and something that leaves you frozen and slack jawed. He's gotten used to it enough that he doesn't stop for longer than a skipped step, but he can never help looking around at the soft pastels.

It's also a useful skill that makes him notice that blade before it cuts his head in half.

It moved again, not unusual, but normally it takes a week not 10 hours.

Kris side steps the blade, careful to not hurt himself by accident again. And he inspects the sword for anything unusual.

No matter how much the blade moves around the cave, it always stays on the roof and more never gets revealed. The blade looks as sharp as ever, looking the same as the day Kris ran into it, literally. The color is the same as yesterday, so it hasn't shifted forms...

Nothing

Then why'd it change positions?

Glancing at it's old spot, again, nothing was amiss. Not even a gash in the stone for it to peek through, which was typical. He should report this when he finishes doing the inspection.

But when he turned back to the blade, he was greeted by an odd sight.

Movement

Movement?

Kris was sure it wasn't an earthquake, cause he would be shaking too. He lifted his hand up to the ceiling to see if it was that, but the jaded stone was still. The movement was worrying, per say ,but this hadn't happened before and Kris was panicking.

He grabbed onto the full side, he wasn't that scared, to see it he could feel the nature of the shaking from the shaking itself, but as soon as he did, it stopped. Was it that slight? Bewildered, he kept grip, which would turn into a giant mistake.

The sword gave an upwards jerk and... it was shirking? Wait no, not that. It was... being lifted?
In his confusion, he failed to notice he was being pulled with it. Well, he did but by then it was too late.

I should have gone back home

And there was a flash of light.