The Burning Metal

“Give me those,” an eager female student bustled forward.
“I wouldn’t advise you to do that,” Aphra fixed her gaze on the girl.
“Why, afraid I would damage your poor swords?” the girl sneered.
“No,” Aphra smiled. “They have enough will to protect themselves.”
The girl was unsure of what that meant, so she went ahead and picked up the swords anyway.
“Aaah!” the girl wailed and she dropped the sword instantly. She cradled her hand, which was badly scalded and bleeding.
“My swords react to other people’s flesh,” Aphra picked up her sword and sheathed it. “They burn any other skin that touches them.”
“You could have told me that before I picked it up,” the girl whined, tears squeezing out of her eyes.
“I did tell you; You decided to try and take something that wasn’t yours,” Aphra locked stares with the girl.
The student looked away from Aphra’s amber eyes, and went back to crying over her damaged hand.

“Hmph,” Aphra strode off. “Sensei, I’m practicing in the forest.”

And with that, she walked off.

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