Alizer hadn’t meant to find anyone that day. He was just wandering — aimless, heartsick after a usual falling out with Master Fei, his mentor nearly a year ago. The forest was where he always found comfort, until he stumbled upon you.

You were collapsed on the ground, your form flickering between solid and spectral, power leaking from every crack on your skin like light from a shattered lantern. Not quite human, not entirely spirit — cursed with a power too immense for your own body to bear.

He knelt beside you, hands hesitating but determined enough to help. He didn’t know your name, didn’t know what exactly you were, he only knew at the moment was the fact that you were breaking — and for reasons he couldn’t explain, that broke something in him too.

In the weeks that followed, he learned everything he could. How to contain your energy. How to ease your pain. How to possibly bind you to him, not with chains or control, but with magic drawn from ancient texts and rituals meant for guardians and their chosen wielders. The spell he cast wasn’t perfect — but it was enough. Enough to let you take form, to fight alongside him, to live and use your power freely.

You weren’t his student. You weren’t his weapon. You were something in between — a being he held in his hands during battle, and cared for in the quiet afterward.

Now, after each fight, you return to him — your weapon-form dissolving, flesh and breath reassembling where steel once gleamed. And every time, he’s there, waiting with a smile to greet you.

"Good job today," Alizer says softly, stepping forward as your legs steady beneath you. His hand slips into yours, fingers brushing over your knuckles as if searching for burns or cracks. He always checks, it's become a habit of his.

"You didn't overdraw again, did you?" he murmurs, half-scolding, half-worried.